We walked down the corridor in silence, broken only by the muffled voices coming from downstairs.

“I need to pick something up first,” He told me from over his shoulder.

“Yes sir.”

He led me down a hallway I had yet to visit. He led us to a room on the right, stopping to unlock the door.

As the man entered the room, I stood by the doorway, peering inside. The interior was dominated by black walls, flooring, and furniture. Must be hotter than holy hell in here. An ink curtain draped the windows, filtering out most of the sunlight, yet allowing a few rays to slip through, casting intriguing reflections on the grand writing surface. Perched on top of the writing table was a small glass jar of ink, several pens, and a metal nametag, elegantly engraved with the initials 'C. Hans.' Across from each other, two black lovechairs were positioned with a coffee table in the middle. The sheer size of Cecil’s office rivaled that of the Chief's. He must be more significant than I thought.

I watched him walk around the desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a plain white envelope and a small slip of paper. He reached and grabbed a nearby pen out of the holder and bent over the desk, writing something swiftly on the paper, sealing it with a wax stamp.

“We’re good to go,” He said to me as he exited the room.

I followed him out to the empty streets. The news of Lotusburg and Ottenburg’s death finally reached the public, as well as the disquieting fact there is no leads towards a suspect. As such, people were a bit paranoid about traveling about. Bleak clouds blanketed the skies, making them a greyish hue, matching the tone of the current affairs. A cold chill fell over me. I silently prayed I wore my coat as Monica told me. To distract myself, I peeked over Cecil’s shoulder at the stark white envelope he clasped between equally pale hands.

“So, uh, what’s that for?” I asked cautiously.

“A transferring order. I’m going to transfer Violet Yoshida to a prison cell.”

“What?” I grasped him by his shoulder, whirling him around towards me. “Are you mad? We literally discussed this moments ago! Miss Yoshida is innocent! All the evidence points away from her! And Pigeon found a bloody brooch at the crime scene after she was arrested!”

“I know,” He dusted off his shoulder. “But Adam and the boy aresearch the holding station and she’s in their way. Furthermore, someone with access to the station killed the assassin. They would have no problem killing her as well.”

“But… Prison?” I exclaimed. “They will treat her so badly! What if something happens?”

“Hardship builds character,” He shrugged. “And let’s stop wasting time.” He headed off towards a stopped carriage before I could retort. With a huff, I followed after him. This job was gonna be the death of me.

We sat across each other in awkward silence, other than the rolling carriage. I crossed my arms and threw my head in the direction of the window as I was still cross with him. Despite myself, I threw occasional glances at the intriguing man in front of me, who was staring down at the envelope in his hands. A truly peculiar man. And if what I heard from Pigeon rings true, he’s surrounded by even stranger circumstances. Even disregarding that, his relationship with Adam is of interest. Adam’s paramour. According to Price, there were always rumors circulating around Scotland Yard about the means of their relationship. But I was able to confirm it with my own eyes. Though it’s none of my business, if they really were together could Cecil and Ironheel have really managed to get Adam out of jailtime? And would Adam really fabricate evidence and commit a murder with Cecil? Then try to kill Monica to keep her quiet? Monica’s condition, the strange autopsy reports in Adam’s desk, and the countless other lies the duo have tried to cover up. Though it hurt to admit it, the evidence was piled against them. Were these two great detectives really psycho killers in disguise? What part does Ironheel play in this and why would he help them but then ask for me to spy on Adam? Does Monica know?

I sorted through my thoughts. What Pigeon told me is purely speculation. But what I do know is that Adam has suspicious files on Alice Lotusburg. Coincidentally, Agatha Lotusburg’s sister. The files themselves were dated back ten years ago, during the Micke Andrews case. I could presume she was killed during. And since Adam had access to the files, he worked on the case. Or at least was present in Scotland Yard when it happened.

But that is where it came to an abrupt end. I knew nothing about Cecil, Monica, Mickey Andrews, or the old Chief. All I had to go from was the fruitful word of Pigeon. But he worked directly under Cecil. And obviously, he is not shy to share any info he collects. Perhaps if I got on his good side I could get his help in figuring this all out. Ironheel asked me specifically to ‘be his eyes.’ Maybe by doing so, I could squeeze out a bit of info. Finally Monica. My best bet seemed to be talking to her face-to-face. But did she truly know anything? At the very least she seemed to hold some disrelish to her very own husband. And very much so Cecil. Could it be a sense of suspicion towards the two men’s relationship or more? And why on earth would she need a murder weapon?

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I was broken out of my thoughts by Cecil’s voice.

“We are almost there,” He stated. “Are you ready?”

“Yes sir,” I nodded. But I didn’t know what to even be ‘ready’ for. Nobody actually briefed me on the situation. It seems a hobby of Scotland Yard to send officers in dangerous situations blind.

I glanced back up at Cecil, who was leaning intently towards the window, his gaze fixed on the ever-approaching silhouette of the station. Seated cross-legged, he wore a sleek, black suit—The same type Adam usually wears, although he is gray. It made me wonder if it was the official uniform for detectives, though Pigeon’s distinctive wardrobe seemed to suggest otherwise. But then he didn’t seem like the type to conform to rules.

Cecil’s ensemble was a study in monochrome. From his polished black dress shoes and tailored black trousers to his dark suit and onyx hair, he was an epitome of noir. Even his glasses were framed in black, and now that I thought about it, his entire office was shrouded in the same shadowy hue. If I draped a cape over him and sent him off to Transylvania, I’m positively certain he’d be mistaken as a vampire.

The abundance of darkness only served to highlight his piercing blue eyes—eyes reminiscent of Monica’s but completely devoid of the warmth and gentleness that characterized hers, instead stark and empty. In comparison, Cecil struck me as a stark downgrade from Monica. What was Adam thinking? Though Cecil wasn’t as overtly handsome as Adam, or as beautiful as Monica, he could pass for ‘cute,’ but that impression quickly vanished upon hearing him speak. It was noticeable where he rubbed off on Pigeon, who was just as, or perhaps even more vexing. Does this city produce any normal men?

As the carriage rolled away behind us, I could hear the faint sound of its wheels against the cobblestone road. The detective wasted no time, as he approached the large, imposing building. As we stepped through the heavy wooden doors, the clicking of Miss Williams's typewriter filled the room with a rhythmic melody. She paused her typing to glance up at us.

“O-oh! Detective Hans. How are you doing this day? …Did you need something?”

“Yes.” He approached her with the envelope outstretched. “You can give this to the proper authority correct? It’s transfer orders for Violet Yoshida.”

“Oh?” She opened the envelope and looked it over quickly, before pocketing it. “Sure, I’ll give this to Paul. So then, is she the killer?”

“Yoshida killed nobody!” I cried out. “But he wants to send her to prison anyway!”

“My,” Williams covered her mouth in horror. “That’s horrible! We should catch the real killer instead!” She placed her fists on her hip. “Shame on you Mr. Hans!”

“I already explained this to you!” He sighed turning his head in my direction. “See what you started?”

“Hmph! If you guys did a better job we’d already have the real killer and custody and not have to worry about Violet’s safety!” I protested.

“Whatever,” He waved his hand, dismissing my argument. “We need to get out of here anyway. Adam will be here soon. Plus I suppose we should head to the original crime scene and find probably nothing.”

“Well maybe with that attitude.” I sighed.

“Dear Adam is coming here?” Harriet lit up as she clasped her hands together. “Oh. But I’m sure it’s about the murder, huh? Not even I am allowed to enter that holding cell.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” I mused. “You were here during the time of the murder. That’d make you a potential suspect. But it’s strange to even have you working here after all that. On that point, did anyone suspicious come in on the day of the murder?”

“Nope,” She said shaking her head. “Only other officers. However, they all have to check in before I let them back there. So I have all their names on file if you want it.”

“No need.” Cecil intercepted. “This is Adam’s job, not ours. Don’t wanna steal all their fun. But I’m sure they’d like that file.”

“Of course! I can’t let Adam down!” She hurried back to her desk and sorted through a stack of files with a determined expression. “I’ll have it ready for him before he even walks in the door!”

“Fantastic. Again, we should get going.” He swiftly turned around and walked towards the exit. “You have the carriage fee this time by the way.”

“What? I haven’t even been paid yet!” I yelled after him, purposely omitting the fact that Adam has given me a fair amount of money for occasions like this, as well as the hidden pouch of coins Ironheel gave me to spy on my boss. He completely ignored my protest so there was nothing else I could do but follow behind him and groan loudly to express my disdain

This week seemed to be rife with strange coincidences. The moment Cecil stepped outside, he was unexpectedly body-slammed by Adam. The collision was so abrupt that Cecil stumbled back, nearly losing his balance. Serves him right.

“Ah, sorry, Cecil!” Adam said with a hint of insincerity. “We’re running a bit behind. What are you two doing here?” He glanced between me and Cecil, who was still trying to compose himself.

“Dropping off some stupid transfer order,” I replied. “But we’ll get out of your way now.”

“Indeed, you shall!” Pigeon chimed in, his voice tinged with mock enthusiasm. He pushed past Adam with a dramatic flair. “While the real detectives handle the investigation, why don’t you, young lady, amuse yourselves with something less demanding, like playing with dolls?”

“Don’t be so dismissive!” Adam shot back, his tone edged with irritation. “Although she may not look it, she’s very capable!” His defense seemed more reflexive than genuine, a nod to the lingering prejudices even the most progressive men can’t always shake.

“Enough chatter,” Cecil cut in, his voice firm but resigned. “Miss Williams has been waiting very patiently for you.”

“I’m sure she has,” Adam muttered, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

A brief, uncomfortable silence followed as we all exchanged glances, unsure of what to do next.

“Well… Let’s get going,” Adam finally said, clearing his throat.

“Of course, Detective Clarke!” Pigeon said with an exaggerated grin. “Now you’ll get to see my detective skills in action!” He hummed a tune as he strutted off, clearly pleased with himself.

I sighed and backed up to let them through. I was getting so sick of this.