1.
Arthur Kirkland awoke with a crick in his neck and a sour attitude, and really who could blame him? This was the third time that night he had woken up and for once it wasn't his own doing and instead a quiet, but incessant knocking that stirred him from his dreadfully light sleep.
With a groan he rose from his bed and felt his nerves grating as the knocks grew slightly louder. He pulled his robe off the back door and pulled it on, tying it tightly. He rolled his neck and finally shouted towards the door, "I'm coming!"
He slid out from his bedroom, past his small living room and wrenched his front door open. As he stared at the unwelcome guest he felt his mood darken.
"Have you any idea what time of night it is, sir?" He asked, his words dripping with loathing.
The small, almost timid man before him looked floundered at the response he was receiving from the Englishman. "U-uh yes, sir, Mr. Kirkland, sir," he stuttered, shrinking back at another dark look.
The man at Arthur's door was a young one, dressed in a detective uniform that was clearly too large for him. His attitude, with the too big uniform made him skeptical of the man's profession. Arthur couldn't help but be reminded of a child dressing up in his father clothes, his uniform hanging on him in such an ill way.
"I'm really sorry about the time, sir, but see I was sent by-"
Arthur groaned. "I don't particularly care who sent you, especially if you're with the police force. Tell those imbeciles that I have no interest in anything they might need," he snapped, gripping his door and threw it shut. However, the detective desperately held out his hand preventing Arthur from closing it.
"Sir, please, it's rather important!" He tried, pushing against the door as to not be shut out by the Brit.
"Everything's important to somebody, but I don't particularly care," he said, leaning against the back of the door hoping to just get the man to leave.
"There's been a murder!" The man tried again, growing desperate.
Arthur clenched his fist and pulled the door open, causing the other man to fall forward. "There's plenty of murders in this town it would seem and if our police force would simply do it's job-"
The young detective held up a quivering, yet oddly determined hand in hopes of shutting the man up. "Listen here, sir. My name is Matthew Williams and I am apart Commander Braginski's squadron-" At this the detective heard a frustrated sigh, but kept speaking, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. "And he said you are the only person who would be able to help us with these strings of murders that have been happening the past few months. I'm not supposed to say this, but the murders that appear in the paper are far worse than we allow them to say. It's a slaughter and Braginski is calling it to end now...sir."
Arthur raised a brow at this and frowned. "If I'm correct this 'slaughter' as you put it has been going on for nearly 3 months now. Braginski is only now calling an end to it?" He asked.
The confident air that Detective Williams had managed only moments before, disintegrated at the question. "I...don't always agree to the Commander's methods, but yes he's putting full force into stopping whoever it is, sir."
"Why?" Arthur asked.
"Why what?"
"Who was murdered that would prompt such a sudden determination in our police force to stop this killer?"
Matthew looked at his feet, growing pale. Arthur noted that the pale man before him sucked in a breath of air, almost as if he was trying to calm himself.
"I-it was a long time coming of course," he tried. "B-but this one hit rather...close to home for all of us…"
"All of these murders hit close to home for someone, who in particular died this time?" Arthur stated, coldly.
"H-her name's Amelia Jones, she's my partner's sister."
"Is this Braginski pushing for the solving of the crimes or your partner, Detective?" He asked.
Matthew sighed. "Could you please come along with me to the crime scene?"
Arthur eyed the young man with a curious look, actually taking in the man instead of looking at a cop who was too small for his own clothes.
"Fine, I'll come," Arthur agreed.
Matthew looked at the man with a look of surprise. "T-thank you so much, Mr. Kirkland, sir. It means-"
"The world to you, I know," Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll be out in just a moment, I imagine you have a carriage ready?"
Matthew nodded.
"I'll meet you down there then," he said and closed the door before the detective would have anything else to say.
Arthur gave his eyes a rub and moved to the bedroom to ready himself for what was certain to be a tiresome and long day.