The morning at the Livingston mansion began with a gloomy, gray light filtering through the heavy curtains. The storm outside the window had subsided, but there was still tension in the house, rolling over all its inhabitants. It seems that even the walls of the mansion have absorbed the lingering atmosphere of anxiety.
Arthur Havelock felt that the solution was close, but he lacked important fragments to complete the picture. Every member of the family seemed suspicious, and to get to the truth, it was necessary to look deeper into their emotions and motives. The murder of Lord Livingston exposed hidden wounds in their relationship, and Havelock realized that before moving on, he needed to better understand the emotional background of each of them.
He started the morning by visiting Margaret Livingston. The widow was still in turmoil after the last conversation, and her internal conflict was obvious.
—Lady Livingston,— Havelock began, approaching her gently, "your condition is understandable. However, I need to understand what motivated your husband and those around him. You said you couldn't stop him. Can you tell us in more detail what you were talking about?
Margaret was hunched over in her chair, her face was pale, and her hands were shaking.
—Edmund... he was obsessed with immortality,— she began, her voice low, almost a whisper. "He believed that the ancient rituals of the Order of Eternal Light would give him something... more. I tried to stop him, but the further he went in his search, the more distant he became from all of us. He became a stranger... even for myself.
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Havelock listened intently to her words, trying to read between the lines. Her pain was obvious, but was there an ulterior motive in that pain? Could a widow have killed her own husband to rid herself and her family of his obsession?
— Did you hate him? Havelock asked suddenly.
Margaret looked up at him with tired eyes. She was silent for a long time before answering:
— I hated it... or loved her to the point of despair. It's hard to tell the difference at such moments.
After talking with Margaret, Havelock went to his eldest son, Harold. Yesterday's conversation showed that he was hiding something. Havelock hoped that pressure and delving into emotional details would help him uncover this internal conflict.
Harold was in his office, nervously flipping through old papers. His face expressed fatigue and hidden anxiety, but he tried to maintain a semblance of calm.
—Mr. Havelock," Harold greeted dryly, trying to hide the obvious tension in his voice.
—Harold, we both understand that your behavior speaks volumes," Havelock began, not letting him go into excuses. — Tell me about your father. What was your real connection with him? We know that your name is associated with his business, but what was outside the business?
Harold pursed his lips, looked intently at the detective, then away, and finally sighed.
"We've always had a difficult relationship,— he replied. — I knew he was against my ideas. He didn't want the changes that I saw as the future of our family. My father was... old-fashioned. Stubborn. It was impossible to negotiate with him.
Havelock took a step closer, carefully watching Harold's expression.
— But it's not just about business, right? There was something more. Your dislike seemed deeper than just disagreement about business.
Harold didn't seem to want to answer, but he couldn't stand the pressure.
"You're right," he finally admitted. — I was never his real son. He always preferred Eliot. To him, I was just a tool, his follower. And when he went deep into his crazy research... I realized that my father was no longer in control of himself. I... wanted to escape from this madness. But now his madness has consumed me too.