Ten years later
My eyes blinked open. The room was pitch dark, other than the delicate moonlight seeping through the window and lighting up the carpet. I rubbed my eyes and shook the tangles out of my hair as I looked up at the clock, quietly ticking the seconds away. 2:30. Right on time!
I slipped my hair in a ponytail and slowly opened the door. The prolonged creek made me cringe, yet I didn’t hear Adam or Monica steer. I tacitly made my way toward Adam's desk, avoiding the squeaky board and tiles.
I sat on the leather chair and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I got to my destination unnoticed! Now for the hard part.
I looked down at the desk. Three drawers were on each side. I put my hand on the small knob of the drawer on the top left and jingled it. Locked. Not a surprise. I shook the rest, all six of them were locked. I sighed, but I was expecting this. I stood up and scanned the room. Luckily the moon was on my side, as the large window behind me cast a large spotlight in the middle of the room. If I was Adam where would I hide the keys of something I want nobody to open?
I scanned the bookshelf behind me. It was lined with books and useless trinkets and a photograph of him and Monica wearing unnaturally stiff expressions. I picked up a book with a worn orange spine and looked behind it. If it was anything like the detective stories I’ve read in the papers one of these books is either a level or has a small compartment under it. No such luck. I picked up the next. Nothing.
I groaned with the defeat. If it was on this shelf I had no chance of finding it before dawn broke. I scanned the room again. There was a small coffee table in the middle of the room besides this, there were no other hiding spaces, other of course, than his bed chambers.
I shifted through papers on the table, all just files about recently solved cases, nothing that’d help me now-wait. A file caught my eye. I removed it from the pile and placed it back on the table. I leaned back on my heels as I read:
Alice Lotusburg: Deceased
Age: 19
Birthday: April 4
Date of death: October 2 1871
Cause of death: Poison
Alice Lotusburg, isn’t that? No, we were solving Agatha Lotusburg’s death. But could these two be related? I looked at the small picture at the bottom of the file. The picture was grainy, regardless I recognized the surroundings.
Her body was curled up at the bottom of winding stairs. The flash of the camera reflected off the marble floor. Her baby blue dress was ripped and visual bruises covered her face and arms. Did she fall down the stairs? But I thought she was poisoned. I examined her appearance the best I could. Her hair, a similar length and color to the portrait in Agatha’s Lotusburg. Same house, similar appearance, and same last name, they had to be sisters. But the crimes happened ten years apart! Yet, the two sisters were poisoned. This couldn’t be a coincidence, right? It seems Adam didn’t think so either. Why else would he have a file from a decade ago in a pile of recent ones?
I read over the file before placing it back in the file. He wouldn’t mind if I asked him about it, right? I stood up and made my way to the cupboard. Some new interesting information, but not what I was here to find. One last place to look.
I slowly opened the door to Adam’s bed chambers. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I looked around the room taking in the surroundings, this is the first time I’d ever been inside. Long black curtains covered the windows making it hard to see, but I was able to make out a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser on the far left by the door. I scrutinized the bed until I was able to make out Adam’s figure. Asleep. Thank god. Let’s just hope the keys are in the dresser and not the nightstand.
Silently, I crept across the room towards the dresser, my movements deliberate and cautious. My fingers traced the smooth surface of the dresser's top, searching for any sign of the key. Nothing. With a faint sigh, I pulled open the top drawer, relieved to find it unlocked. To my disappointment, it was filled with neatly folded clothes, no key in sight. The second drawer yielded the same result.
Undeterred, I moved to the third drawer and cautiously inserted my hand. Initially feeling only emptiness, my fingers suddenly brushed against something cold and metallic. Curiosity overcoming caution, I explored further, my hand tracing along a long, cylindrical shape until it ended in a small hole—a gun. Startled, I withdrew my hand swiftly. Beneath where the gun had lain, I discovered a small square of leather topped with a metal badge, this must be his detective badge which means this drawer is reserved for his work essentials; could the desk keys also be here?
My search intensified, and at last, my fingertips encountered a thin circle, unmistakably a keyring. Carefully, I sifted through the keys until I found the one I sought. Bingo!
I closed the door and hurried back over to the door until I was overcome by a pang of guilt. Was I really sneaking into my mentor’s bedroom to steal his keys? Was I crazy? Sure, he was a bit suspicious but being a weird crime? But at the same time, neither is being curious, right? Maybe he is just a weird guy but she couldn’t shake the feeling more was going on here. I mean, he kissed Cecil! Being unfaithful to your wife is hardly innocent so is it so much of a stretch to assume he’s doing other things as well? Either way, I already had the keys, no reason to put them back after that whole endeavor. I mentally apologized to him as I hurried back to the desk. I’d have to buy him flowers sometime.
I put my keys in the first draw. Luckily they were the right keys and the dresser opened with a ‘click!’ I looked inside. A neat stack of papers sat snuggly in the drawer. Nothing of interest yet. I picked up the stack and flipped through. More papers about cases. But why did he go through all the effort to lock them up? There has to be something.
I was just about to cut my losses when I caught Alice Lotusburg’s name again. I quietly removed the yellowed dog-eared file and read it over. It was the same one on the table! Why have two? I looked closer.
Alice Lotusburg: Deceased
Age: 19
Birthday: April 4
Date of death: October 3 1871
Cause of death: Blunt Force
Wait what? I held the paper closer to my face. This is incorrect, right? I raced towards the coffee table and snatched the other file. I swiftly but quietly tip-toed back to Adam’s desk and read the first file over once again:
Alice Lotusburg: Deceased
Age: 19
Birthday: April 4
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Date of death: October 2 1871
Cause of death: Poison
I was right! The date of death and cause of death are different! I scrutinized the photos. They were the same on every file, and the names were the same. It’s both Alice Lotusburg so how could this be possible? And why is one locked up? I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. It was screaming at me not to ask Adam about it. I revoked my previous thought of consulting him about the file.
The contents of the first drawer were intriguing, to say the least, but time is limited. Time to go to the next.
I unlocked the drawer beneath the first. The lock was rusted and difficult to open as I had to jiggle it several times. Seems as if this one hasn’t been open in a while.
I inspected the inside. Several objects I didn’t recognize: A broken watch, a dusty brooch, a golden locket, and a strange doll. Adam certainly had strange interests. But nothing of concern. I closed the drawer and went on to the next, the drawer on the top left.
This one opened quickly and the drawer slid out with ease. Inside were only a few slips of paper. I picked up the first one, a half sheet in pristine condition. I held it up to the moonlight. A short sentence was written neatly in black ink:
If you’ve changed your mind about one thing or the other; The usual place.-C
Ok, ominous. Does this man have any normal confidants? I reread the note, and there was nothing I could decipher. I put it away and pulled out the next. It was a full paper folded neatly. As I unfolded it I was instantly greeted with the sight of words scrawled all over the page. Like its predecessor, I held it up to the light. From top to bottom, it was covered in small delicate lettering. Very similar to the one on the last page, other than a bit of water damage running the ink in the middle of the page. Could it be from the same person?
I tried it read it, but despite the neat lettering, the small words made the reading strenuous. At the very top of the page, I was able to make the first few sentences:
As always, do this discreetly and scrupulously. Any mistake will doom us both. Deliver the new autopsy report. It’ll give us both an alibi and botch the investigation. Next
I wasn’t able to make anything out past that. What the devil does this mean? Why would Adam want to botch an investigation? Or maybe it’s just evidence. But then why is it locked up in his desk?
As I approached the last drawer, my mind was racing with thoughts, but I tried to push them aside. Inserting the key, I twisted it with anticipation, but it didn't budge. Frustrated, I shook it vigorously, wondering if it was broken or if I had the wrong key. As I continued to shake it, a low creak caught my attention, emanating from Adam's room. I immediately froze, a sense of unease creeping over me. Hastily, I relocked all the drawers, ready to escape at a moment's notice. Fortunately, I heard nothing further, but it was a clear sign for me to abandon my post.
I rushed back to my room until coming to a rapid stop. The keys! I left them on the desk.
With a deep sigh, I crept back to the desk and snatched up the keys. But what to do with them? I got them out of Adam’s room, but he seemed to be stirring. Could I risk it? I gripped my forehead as I worked through my dilemma until an idea came to me. Maybe I didn’t steal them. Perhaps I found them on the ground when I grabbed a cup of water in the middle of the night. And like the diligent protégée I am, I return it to him in the morning. Flawless. With a renowned plan in mind, I finally retired to my room, exhausted. Despite my fatigue, my running thoughts kept me up.
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I made my way to the kitchen. Sunlight seeped through the windows warming the floor beneath my feet. I was greeted with the tantalizing aroma of toast and backing. The slight sizzling of the pan became louder and louder as I got closer.
Monica stood over by the marble countertop, taking pieces of toast out of the toaster and placing them on one of three plates. Aureate locks were weaved into a plait. She wore a delicate baby blue gown that reached her ankles. She hummed quietly to herself. Adam sat at the table, hands in his lap as he stared languidly at the ceiling. Brown hair scrupulously combed back and his signature well-tailored suit. He bounced his leg rhythmically, as he was nervous about something. He looked towards me at my footsteps.
“Good morning,” I greeted the two. Neither answered. I sucked in a breath as I approached Adam, jingling his keys. “I found your keys last night while I was getting a drink of water. You oughta be more careful.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Well, that was easy.
I dropped them in his hand. I gave him a sweet smile to try and lighten the mood but he just blinked at me. It seems tensions were still high from the previous night. As I sat in the chair across from him I tried to create conversation.
“So, what’s the agenda for today?”
“Not sure yet,” He replied curtly. “But you should examine the body sooner or later. You are a forensic scientist after all.”
Ah, that’s right. I’m supposed to be a forensic scientist, not a detective. However, it proved difficult to do my job with no prior knowledge and being surrounded by only detectives.
“About that,” I brought a nervous hand to the back of my neck. “I’ve been thinking, I don’t know much about this whole forensics thing. But you, Chief Ironheel, Detective Hans, Detective Price, and previously Monica are all detectives. Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to become a detective instead?”
“Nonsense,” He waved away my concern. “That is exactly why you should be a forensics scientist. There are many detectives already investigating the crimes. We don’t need another.”
“But I don-”
“I am your boss am I not? This was part of the deal, remember? I take you in, you help the Yard by working to be a forensic scientist. We have not many of those.’
“Err, I guess.”
He clearly did not like that suggestion. Monica placed a plate of toast and bacon in front of me.
“You better eat up sweetest! You’re a growing girl. Unfortunately, we are all out of eggs.” She sighed as she fixed Adam a plate. “Perhaps you can go get us some?”
“Uh, sure if I have time.”
She hummed in approval as she put a plate in front of Adam.
“You know,” She began leaning over his chair. “Maybe you should let our dear Mayla become a detective as she wishes. She’ll have a knack for it, I can smell it! Unless…” She stood back up and brought a finger to her chin and furrowed her eyebrows in fake confusion. “Is there a reason why she shouldn’t work alongside you?”
“What? No! It’s just… We have enough detectives.” He shot back as he fingered the bacon on his plate.
“Hmm, whatever.” She shrugged as she receded into her room. “Adam, do the dishes. And don’t forget the eggs!” She shouted back towards us.
I ate my breakfast in silence as I watched Adam run a soapy rag over a plate, and then place it on the drying rack. I watched his lean figure. He ran a soapy frustrated hand through his chestnuts lock after dropping the plate into the murky dishwater. His back was towards me but I could sense his tiredness in his slow movements and apathetic cleaning job. Understandable of course, it’s been a busy few days. Especially for him apparently, being involved in some clandestine operation with suspicious implications. Despite the blaring red flags, there was no actual evidence for any crime other than “gross indecency” but I’m not that kind of person. Although the unfaithfulness to Monica is quite despicable. Overall Adam was shadier than a willow tree. Who exactly is this man?
Lost in my thoughts, a sudden jingling sound broke the quiet morning. Glancing down, I noticed a pair of keys protruding from Adam's pocket. Could they be the missing keys to the elusive last drawer? The idea seemed far-fetched; why would he carry such specific keys around? Even if they were the ones I sought, obtaining them discreetly would prove challenging. The notion of reaching towards his backside was out of the question and potentially disastrous. It seemed right now my only option was the waiting game
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” He flicked the water off his hands as he turned towards me.
“Stare? You flatter yourself too much!” I retorted. “You take forever to clean you know. So, where to now?”
“As I stated before. You are off to the morgue to do your job.”
“And what about you?”
“Does not concern you.”
“Ugh fine.” I stood up and walk towards my room to get dressed. Adam followed closely behind as he scrawled something on a piece of paper. He handed to me before I entered the room.
“Here’s the address. I’ll pay any carriage fees. After you are done, come back here.”
“How helpful. Thanks.”