In all the skills that Old Jack taught me, I considered my spying skill to be the best. It was the only skill that Old Jack had ever praised me for, and he was stingy with praise. He said I had great peripheral vision and that I controlled it well. I believed him because I had spied on him once. I pretended that I was studying a book when I was actually reading what he was writing. He didn't notice it, I know, since he doesn't like it when someone meddles with his stuff.
But now, I doubt it. Maybe at that time, Old Jack just didn't care whether I read what he was writing or not.
“Why are you peeking at me?” the woman asked, her pale blue eyes still staring at me, as if she would know if I were to lie or not.
I fixed my sitting position, faced her, while rubbing my nose, pretending to be embarrassed. “Uhm… It's just that… It's my first time seeing someone so beautiful,” I said, not lying. I've seen plenty of women and even had quite a few exes myself in high school, but I admit no one can compare to her in terms of looks. If you put my last ex beside her, I'd say that she would look plain.
“Okay,” she replied, clearly not interested in continuing the conversation as she resumed reading the book.
It's not like I'm interested either, not gonna lie. I don't want to associate with any girl myself. The time of me fooling around had ended a long time ago. I now have more important things to attend to. A dream to follow.
I retracted my gaze from her and started to check my things for the second time when she suddenly spoke, “You act well…”
Her words surprised me, but I didn't show it. Better to play ignorant. “What do you mean?”
“For someone trying to be embarrassed, you stared at my eyes for too long,” she said, not even sparing me a glance, her eyes still on the book.
“It's not like I have a choice. Your eyes are very charming, you know that?” I looked down, then looked at her eyes. “To the point that I can't help but be drawn to them.”
She met my eyes, and I looked away. I don't think she's suspicious of me anymore, is she? I played with my pocket watch, flipping the cover over and over.
“I know… Many have said it. All were smooth talkers. Sadly, you're not any different despite how you act.” She shrugged.
Interesting… It isn't every day that you get to see a woman like her. Tough and sharp. I raised my hands, showing that I gave in. “Okay, you got me! I just thought maybe being shy would strike you differently?” I said playfully.
“Quite the opposite, in fact,” she replied, flipping the book off its page. I gulped as I saw her tuck her hair behind her ear, showing her fair skin devoid of any scars or pimples. Seriously, how can someone be this beautiful?
“May I ask what you are reading?” I tilted my head, trying to peek at the title on its cover. But she closed the book before I could even see it, hiding it under her arm.
Her pale blue eyes glared at me coldly, her salmon lips opened and closed before she declined me flatly, “No… Just mind your own business.”
“I insist. The travel bores me, and I have a quarter of an hour left before I arrive at my destination. I couldn't bear that. A companion such as yourself can help to spend some time. Maybe we have something like a common interest that we could talk about?” I smiled as sweetly as I could. Maybe with this, she will change her mind?
I really need some company. And I can't request better company than her. She caught my interest. But that's just it, nothing more.
“Ah,” I said as I remembered something. I turned to my case and took a book with a hard red cover. When I checked my things earlier, I was surprised to see it in my case. I mulled for a long time over how it got there, but suddenly remembered that my things dropped on the floor when I woke up. Maybe it got included when I picked it up from the floor.
I showed it to her. “Look, I love reading too! Especially books on psychology and mystery. I got this from our local library before I boarded. A Century-Old Mystery is its title. Have you read it yet?”
She paused and shook her head, but I noticed something light up in her eyes. My mouth curled up slightly. Heh, I think I got her interested.
I started to tell her the introduction of the book, without wasting any time. At first, she was hesitant, but my storytelling got her hooked, and soon she was listening like a kid with her head resting on her hand. She nodded then and there, sometimes meeting my eyes.
The story goes like this: There was a family who was murdered on their farm, in the town of Heliss—Maria and Joseph Stark, their 4-year-old son Bren, 12-year-old daughter Jesse, and their maid Ann. Their bodies were found in the barn stacked on top of each other, with penetrating wounds coming from a pickaxe. While Ann was found on her own bed not breathing. The narrator is a young detective who's assigned to solve this case that has remained unsolved for the past 20 years.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The murderer actually resided on the farm for three days following the crime, according to the findings made by the young detective. A Wednesday mailman found the family dog tied up to a post, calves being fed, and meals being served in the kitchen even after the family had passed away. Neighbors had reported seeing smoke rising from the chimney. The bodies were found the following day.
What made this story more interesting is that the young detective discovered that Ann was actually hired three days before she was killed, replacing the previous maid who had quit 3 months earlier due to the house being “haunted.” According to the maid, she reported to the family that there were voices and sounds of footsteps in the attic, but they decided to ignore her, telling her that she didn't need any excuse as they would let her leave.
In the end, the young detective failed to solve the case. Despite repeated arrests, no murderer has ever been found, and the files were closed.
“Do you think it was the ghost?” I asked her as I finished telling the summary of the book.
She's now laid back in her seat, hugging her thick book in her arms. She turned to look at me and shook her head, “Ghosts aren't real.”
“Yes, but they probably are in this book. This is fiction; we can't cross out the possibility, can we?” I said.
“Humans hold more mystery than anything. If it's indeed a ghost… then it's a bad book. There's no use in thinking and solving the mystery if that's the case.”
“Oh?” I said. So she's interested in this kind of thing. I held my gaze on her as I caressed the book's cover. I felt the rough edge of it in my hand. “If it's not a ghost, then who do you think the murderer was?”
“The maid, Ann. She was the murderer,” she said. I was surprised as I heard absolute certainty in her voice.
“Why do you think so?” I asked.
“You said the bodies were found in the barn, but Ann's was on her bed. Isn't it strange?” She said, her lips touching the head of the pen in her hand. I don't know when she got it. “Why was her body the only one not in the barn?”
“Maybe because she's a maid? And the murderer has a habit of classifying his/her victims?” I answered. Now, this is getting more interesting.
“No, I doubt it. There's something off… suspicious about her. And besides…calves being fed? And meals still being served? If it's not a habit of a maid, what is? She opened her book, scribbling something on it. So it's not a book but a notebook, huh?
“But she's dead, isn't she?” I asked.
“Yes…and no,” She said, still writing.
“What do you mean?” Her hand paused as she turned to look at me.
“There's a drug that makes you seem like you're dead. It could send someone into a deep hypothermic state, make their vital signs nearly invisible, and lead a knowledgeable medical technician to presume someone is dead..” She explained.
“You don't mean?”
“Yes, she took that drug… at least based on what you told me,” She eyed me suspiciously. Looks like she thinks I left out some part of the story.
“You're right… they thought Ann died due to smothering as they saw her face covered by a pillow.” I grinned. “Seems like I forgot to tell you?”
“So she faked her death by that… that settles it then,” She toiled at me and resumed writing.
She's really good! She reached the same conclusion faster than me! I remembered sleeping after I solved it, and she figured it out without breaking a sweat! How unfair! I felt my pride beginning to crumble.
But she ignored one thing, how come nobody solved it in the past twenty years? I also tried to ask Old Jack about it, but he just scoffed at me, told me I'm green.
“It's no use thinking about it. It's fiction… the author can make the characters dumber however much he/she likes,” She said as if reading my mind. I'm surprised, but more dissatisfied with the answer.
I think there's more on the surface. Some mystery hidden underneath. I'm just short of knowledge right now. But, maybe someday I will discover it? I hope so.
The sound of a whistle resounded, signaling that we arrived at our destination, Godham. Time really runs fast when busy. I put the book in my case and stood up from my seat without wasting any seconds. I controlled my breathing, calming my nervous heart. It's my first time in a big city; I hope all goes well… I patted my inner pocket, where the envelope was.
I saw the woman also preparing her things. Looks like this is also her destination. “I'm thankful for the company. You really made this arduous journey fun. I hope I see you again next time and discuss more mysteries..”
But I doubt it. I doubt there will be a next time. It's a shame. I left the train and waited for no reply. She had already served her purpose. There's no use for dilly-dallying, but I'm sure that if I offered my hand, she would take it and shake it. But I have no intention to hold another girl's hand. Not anymore.
I managed to squeeze through the crowd and got myself out of the station. My senses tingled, and every hair on my body stood. I always read that Godham is the best and worst city. But they did it no justice. My eyes widened at the sight. My ears, nose, and touch doubted things. In front of me was a city full of Gothic buildings. The clock tower showed its magnificence in the center. Roads made of brick extended to every nook of the street, with carriages racing through them. But what caught my eyes was the architecture in the far end of the horizon, where the sun rises, surrounded by walls and men in dirty white suits.
My nose caught the lingering smell of gunpowder, the smells of piss on the wall, shit in the sewer, and semen on the street. My ears caught the clattering hooves of horses, shouts of men, groaning of women, and whistles of the police. My touch was on my suit pocket, cut open on the outside, as the heaviness of coins felt dreamy.
The sun was yet at its peak. But, I felt it was already night. In the midst of it was something that slipped my mind.
I forgot to ask the woman's name.