Lenox descended the grand staircase once more, navigating his way to the kitchen with growing confidence. He only took one wrong turn this time, the map in his pocket remaining untouched.

The kitchen was bathed in the muted light of an overcast day. Outside, pale grey storm clouds loomed, their presence punctuated by the gentle rhythm of raindrops against the windows.

As Lenox entered, he found Maurice had prepared a plate for him. An omelette sat atop it, its delicate folds promising a rich taste. The aroma of peppers, onions, and ham wafted up, making Lenox's stomach growl in anticipation.

"Good morning, Master Lenox," Maurice greeted him. "I trust you slept well?"

Lenox nodded, suppressing a yawn. "Morning, Maurice. Actually, it was one of the best nights of sleep I've ever had. Though," he added, remembering, "I did wake up in the middle of the night. Saw Samantha acting a bit... odd. She was baking cookies, of all things."

"Ah," Maurice said, his eyebrows rising slightly. "That explains the misplaced utensils I found this morning." He turned to the sink, filled with soapy water, and began cleaning the dishes. Over his shoulder, he asked, "How's your hand, by the way?"

Lenox glanced down at his bandaged hand, grimacing at the sight of dried blood stiffening the wrapping. "I haven't checked yet. Doesn't hurt, though."

Carefully, he began unwrapping the bandage. The dried blood had given it a strange structure, causing it to unroll like a miniature roller coaster. As he reached the innermost layer, the wrapping became sticky, the metallic scent of fresh blood hitting his nostrils. Unable to see through the red-stained fabric, he rinsed his hand in the sink.

"Huh," Lenox said, surprise evident in his voice. "It's... healed." He stared at his hand, perplexed. He'd had his share of injuries before - broken bones, cuts from briars, bruises from lacrosse - but none had ever healed this quickly.

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Maurice glanced over, seeming unsurprised. "Wooden splinters, right? Those tend to heal pretty quick. You're lucky you didn't catch an infection from that 'Sloshed Sea-Bass' place."

"Yeah..." Lenox trailed off, lost in thought about the miraculous recovery. Shaking himself from his reverie, he added, "Oh, Maurice – I wanted to arrange for Davy's dog to be sent to a lab for a private autopsy. Could you help with that?"

Maurice chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "So he convinced you, just like that? Well, I suppose it's not much money to you. But that's not really my area. You'll want to speak with Reginald about that sort of thing."

"Do you know where I can find him?" Lenox asked, glancing around the kitchen.

A crisp voice answered from behind him, each syllable perfectly enunciated. "You need only call for me, Young Master Aspect. I am at your service."

Lenox startled, nearly toppling his chair. Before he could fall, Reginald's hand steadied the chair, setting it right. Lenox hadn't heard a single sound to indicate Reginald's entrance - no creak of wood, no footsteps on the tile mosaic floor.

"You should be more cautious, Young Master Aspect," Reginald said, his tone neutral. "We wouldn't want any accidents."

Lenox's voice was sharp with poorly disguised irritation. "Maybe if you stopped popping out of the walls like a Scooby Doo villain, I wouldn't need to be so cautious."

Reginald, seemingly oblivious to Lenox's frustration, continued, "I understand you need an autopsy arranged. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Lenox said, "Yes, actually. I was wondering if you had any information on a local historical society. I saw the state of the lighthouse yesterday and thought funding its restoration might be worthwhile."

A slight smile graced Reginald's usually impassive face. "An admirable idea, Master Aspect. I believe your best course of action would be to visit the town library. While its collection is more extensive than most towns of this size, it pales in comparison to the Emerelda's resources. However, the proprietor should be able to assist you. You might also inquire about the orphanage, given your upcoming speech. I can't promise a riveting conversation, but it should prove informative."

Lenox nodded, resigned. "If that's your recommendation, I suppose that's where I'll head next."