Dinner was splendid and It was even better than most of the five star restaurant that I've eaten. It a five-course meal course with soup, salad, scallops, black sea bass for the main dish, and chocolate fondant for dessert.
During the dinner I had found out the identity of the two other guests. The unfashionable and shady looking young lady is Issy Ross. She's a renowned mystery author with the pen name of Emily Black; her books are always best selling in its first week of release. It was a bit disappointing and surprising, in an interesting way, that one of the best selling authors in mystery fictions would look so, I don't know how I would describe her… depressing? No wonder her books are always depressing, with the main character dying at the end or faced with a tragic event. She also has a bad habit of biting her nails every time she's nervous, which is all the time.
The other man, the one I saw standing by the window is Cullen Blake. A handsome young gentleman in his late twenties is a well-known investor and a billionaire. He doesn't talk much and has a mysterious aura around him, very similar to Mr. Holmes. Although he's polite, way more than Mr. Holmes of course, there's something about this man that is a bit off. I can't tell his intentions but he seems to be interested in our detective as I caught him observing Mr. Holmes.
We were about to finish our main course when Mr. Vance broke the silence. "So when is this Mr. Finch coming?" he asked turning at Garland who was just standing beside the door, close enough to tend to our impending needs.
"My employer has some things need to be done this night but as soon as his duties are accomplished he would be presenting himself. He hopes that you, sirs and madams, would enjoy your stay in the Golden Finch estate before his arrival. Before that, we, the servants, would give our best service to make your stay comfortable." The butler said politely. Well that is if he plans to meet us at all.
"Well that if he plans to meet us at all." I heard my thoughts actualized but figured that someone was just having the same thoughts when the other guests turned to Sherlock Holmes. Curiosity was flashed in their eyes then the journalist asked. "What do you mean by that Mr. Holmes?"
The detective looked at him with amused eyes. "It must be very comfortable for you people living in that little brains of yours, going here without knowing anything." I suppressed a laugh. This man should be thought how to act humane.
Some of the guests looked at him with offended eyes while some were surprised. The journalist raised a brow. "Care to emancipate us since you are so intelligent, Mr. Detective?"
Sherlock Holmes rolled his eyes. "All the evidences are presented to you yet you don't observe. Use whatever's left in your brains and think. Eleven people, most likely related to each other, are invited in a secluded island, with no means of leaving except the will of an invisible host. What do you think would happen?" Mr. Vance looked at him with confused eyes. "What do you mean?" The detective leered. " Seeing that we would not be able to leave the island for quite some time, the best case scenario is murder, journalist sir, murder." That's true. Well if not, it's definitely something interesting.
"What makes you think that we would not be able to leave the island?" Mr. Vance inquired. Once again the detective rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should start watching the news, so we would have a use for you."
"I am the news."
"Yes indeed journalist sir, but of irrelevant facts." Okay, now I am trying very hard not to laugh. This man is just hilarious.
"You're a psychopath." The journalist spat. The detective was about to retort but I beat him to it.
"Sociopath" Mr. Holmes and the other guests turned to me. "A totally sexy sociopath." I said looking at the detective's gray orbs. The man looked surprise but I could see a tint of amusement. "High functioning is the adjective. Ms. Adler." Mr. Holmes said without breaking our eye contact, it lasted for almost a minute until Hector Kay cut off.
"Uuum, why don't you sing for us Ms. Adler?" He requested; most probably his attempt to ease the tensed atmosphere, a nice person through and through. "Yes Irene! You should sing for us!" Vivian exclaimed.
"Yes I haven't heard you sang live for a long time." The director added. "It would be an honor to hear the best contralto in the country to sing for us."
I smiled at them and said. "I would love to, but pity, I'm not very comfortable singing without accompaniment."
"Oh, I think Mr. Holmes plays the violin." We all turned to the butler. "I remember putting a violin in his room along with his other luggage. I could bring it here if you're fine with it, Mr. Holmes." The butler suggested. So he plays the violin, now that's more interesting.
Sherlock Holmes flashed an irritated expression. "Why would I want to play the violin in front of these people?"
"Why Mr. Holmes? Are you unconfident in your musical skills? Don't worry, my singing is good enough to compensate." I said trying to stir him up. The man raised a brow. "Are you challenging me, Ms. Adler?"
"Oh yes Mr. Holmes, yes indeed." The man did not break from my intense gaze.
"Garland, bring my violin." Got you.
"Yes Mr. Holmes."
After a few minutes Garland came back with a black case and handed it to the detective. He opened it and revealed an old but well maintained violin. "Shall we start Ms. Adler?" He said standing up.
I grinned and stood up as well and went to the center of the room facing the dining table where our detective stood. "Bach's Erbarme Dich." I said looking at him. "Can you play it?"
He did not answer but instead he started playing the first movement. We were all stunned. He's good. I couldn't help but just stare at him and be awed. Oh that's unexpected. He has the skills on par with the best violinists. The music industry just lost an exceptional violinist when this man had decided to become a detective. I was lost in my thoughts and his astounding performance until he flashed a glance at me as a cue to my part.
Erbarme dich, mein Gott, I started.
um meiner Zähren willen!
Schaue hier, Herz und Auge
weint vor dir bitterlich.
Erbarme dich, mein Gott.
The first part ended with us occasionally giving glimpses on each other until the rest of the song concluded.
Erbarme dich, mein Gott,
um meiner Zähren willen!
Schaue hier, Herz und Auge
weint vor dir bitterlich.
Erbarme dich, mein Gott.
After the song ended, the guests were speechless until someone stood and clapped followed by the others but me and the detective were completely lost in our world. "You're quite good." Sherlock Holmes said. I beamed at him suggestively. "Oh, you're not bad yourself Mr. Holmes." I replied.
"It would be troublesome if you underestimated me Ms. Adler." Now I am very tempted to go through lengths to reveal what else this man has to show.
"Have you ever lost to anyone Mr. Holmes?"
"Never Ms. Adler. Defeat is not my field of expertise." I can't help but chuckle at his reply. "Oh don't worry Mr. Holmes, there's always a first for everything." I said going back to my seat.
"That was wonderful Irene!" Vivian said. "Thank you Vivian."
"Splendid as ever. It's a shame you never agreed to my projects, I think you'll make a great actress as well." Roland commented. I saw Caroline rolled her eyes. That's why women are troublesome, such a strong instinct of competitiveness.
"I don't think I am fit to act Roland." I replied.
"So talented yet so humble, I am compelled." Mr. Ryder said suggestively with a wink. Ugh, disgusting. Youth.
"Yes Ms. Adler! I've heard you sang from the telly before but I never imagined that the real performance was this… breath taking." The lawyer, Mr. Kay praised. "And Mr. Holmes was quite splendid as well! Are you a professional violinist?"
"Oh please." The detective replied uninterested while enjoying his dessert.
After the dinner, the guests stayed in the lounge except for the mysterious investor, the arrogant model, and the depressing novelist. I chose to stay as well since I still want to observe the other guests, besides, Mr. Holmes is staying as well. Me and the detective occupied the two single couches near the fireplace. No wonder he sits here, it's the best place to observe the guests.
After quite some time, I figured three things: first, Caroline Rayne and Ronald are definitely acquainted but are pretending to not know each other. I remember Caroline Rayne starred in one of the movies Ronald directed so they must know each other. Second, Vivian seems to be weary of the journalist, he must be black mailing her, but what for? The journalist seems to be black mailing other guests such as Caroline and Ronald but I do not see any connection between him and the designer. Lastly, everyone in this house must be connected to each other, directly or indirectly. There must be something more to these connections. I have to figure it out or I won't have pieces for the puzzle.
After an hour, I have decided to give up since it's probably the best I could get for tonight. I'll just wait for something to happen and the pieces would reveal themselves, it's not like I'm in a rush anyway. I am not here to save lives, solve a case or whatever, I'm just here as an audience after all.
I stood up and bid farewell to the other guests. I was already at the door when Mr. Holmes called for me and said that he would accompany me back to my room. I teased how he's such a gentleman and all he said was "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just also going back to my room." We walked to our rooms together, which happens to be conveniently across each other.
"Goodnight Mr. Holmes."
"Goodnight Ms. Adler." I heard him say before I completely closed the door.
Now then, what should I do? I went to my luggage and started fixing my things. I heard a rumble and looked out the window. It must be the storm, it's coming. I went towards the glass pane to look at the clouds and saw lightings and heavy clouds starting to multiply. I smiled at the sight; shall we make things more interesting?
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" I heard Vivian scream.
I went up from the bed and took a glimpse at my clock. It read, 6:45. The heavy clouds and the strong rain makes it hard to distinguish day from night. It seems like the storm had already made it to this place. I took my night robe and went out of my room. I easily found where the source of the commotion is, which is in the lounge, because I saw Mr. Kay, Caroline Rayne, Mr. Vance, Vince Ryder, Vivian and her husband outside the door.
I went inside and saw Mr. Holmes kneeling over the lying body of Ronald, with a tiny glass in hand. Judging from how he uses it, it must a magnifying glass of some sort.
I went over to check Ronald's body as well. From the looks of his lips and his complexion, it doesn't seem to me that I need to check his pulse. He's dead.
I examined the inside of his lips, his nape and fingertips. "It's poison." Said Mr. Holmes without looking up. "Yes, Cyanide poisoning." I added.
I felt Mr. Holmes stopped from what he's doing and glanced at me, I didn't bother looking back for I was busy looking for the source of the poison. "How do you know its Cyanide?" I eyed him, is he suspecting me? The thought made me grin.
"That dark pink skin and that black vomit around his lips." I started.
He looked at me with curious eyes. "Yes those are symptoms of Cyanide but it could also be Mercury, Arsenic and Belladonna."
"The smell of bitter almond Mr. Holmes." I said. "Cyanide." I continued and finished with a wink.
"The police! Call the police!" Vince Ryder hollered. "It's pointless. The police or anybody on that matter can't go here." The detective said. He's right. "Vivian Call Garland." I instructed the dumbfounded designer, snapping her back to reality.
Vivian did not waste another minute and rushed to look for the butler. After a couple of minutes she went back alone. "He's not here, even the other servants are not here." Oh crap.
I heard Mr. Holmes rushed to the telephone and made a troubled face. Even the lines are cut huh? Now what do we do?
All the guests are now gathered on the right wing lounge for we cannot move the body of Ronald from the left wing lounge and nobody really wants to stay in a room with a corpse in it, maybe except a particular guest.
The right wing lounge was pretty much the same as the left, the furniture, the paint, the designs, everything is identical except positioned oppositely. Me and Mr. Holmes sat beside the fire place while the rest was on the other side of the room. It's funny because if Ronald was here it would be exactly like before, it seems like everyone had marked their place. Now the problem is, what do we do now?
First, I have to sort out what happened. Ronald has been poisoned and is now dead. All the lines of the telephone had been purposely cut and the weather is disrupting the signal from our mobile phones. We cannot go out of the house either for the same reason. The most peculiar however is that there are no signs of any of Mr. Finch's servants. I checked the dock from my window even the yacht is not there anymore. Well it's not like we could use it with this weather. The best we could do is to stay put and wait for the storm to subside.
Regarding the death of Ronald, I can only think of two possibilities, it's either he was killed by the servants of Mr. Finch, or one of the guests killed him, but that hardly matters to me. I'm not that interested on who killed who, I'm more interested in the reactions of the people in this room.
Vivian, her husband, Mr. Ryder and Mr. Kay seems to be acting normally. Distress of the situation and a little bit of fear, especially Vivian but she's being comforted by her husband so she'll be fine. The journalist doesn't seem to care or even astound by the situation, I could even say he seems to be in high spirits.
The businessman doesn't seem to care either, although, he seems to be interested in Sherlock, who is sitting next to me palms together and looking at the other guests, for I could see him occasionally glimpse at the detective in the corner of his eyes.
The bizarre reactions came from the novelist, Issy Ross and the actress, Caroline Rayne. They are eliciting symptoms of intensive fear and anxiety. Fear and anxiety is reasonable considering the situation but what they're showing is a bit over board. Caroline just sat there looking down with shaking arms, while the novelist was constantly biting her finger nails while time to time looking at the other guests specifically, Sherlock. I have an idea about the novelist but I'm not sure about Caroline, I need a link between her and Ronald.
"It's that Mr. Finch! He's trying to kill us!" said the young model. "Let's not jump into conclusions." Replied by Mr. Holmes. "Then where are the servants?" cried Mr. Ryder. "It's probable that they are involve but may also not be the case." The detective stated uninterested.
"What are you implying Mr. Holmes?" The journalist said calmly. "Are you saying that one of us is the killer?"
"That is also a possibility."
"I know who killed him." We all turned to the source of the voice and saw the novelist stood from her chair.
"It's him!" She said pointing to Mr. Holmes.
"Why would you think that sweetheart?" I asked. "Last night, I saw him outside talking to Mr. Davies from my window." She stated.
Everyone is now looking suspiciously at Mr. Holmes. I controlled myself not to laugh at how these people are so easily arrived at conclusions with misleading evidences. I observed how Mr. Holmes would react but he did not respond much. He must be used to being accused. Pity, I was expecting something more interesting than that.
"So what are you doing outside Mr. Detective?" The journalist inquired.
"A letter." The detective started. "Someone sent me a letter."
"And where is this letter now?"
The detective paused for quite some time until he replied. "It's gone."
"What? Are you expecting us to believe that a letter just disappeared on its own? Aren't you really the killer Mr. Holmes? You're just playing detective to avert suspicion!" the journalist accused.
"And he was the first person who saw the body!" Vivian cried.
"But he was the one who suggested that the culprit could be one of us? Isn't that a disadvantage?" The investor defended.
"He could just be doing that to avoid suspicion, he's a smart man, and it's very likely for him to do that." The Journalist insisted. "He even knows the cause of death and even knew that something's going to happen here. I don't think someone's smart enough to do that." Well I knew how he died too and probably even more than Mr. Holmes, if anybody's interested. I saw Mr. Holmes roll his eyes. I suppressed a laugh.
"I say we should restrain him in his room. It's for our safety, I don't want to walk around the house with a killer." Vivian suggested.
"I saw cuffs on the left wing lounge." Said Vince Ryder.
"Wait, we shouldn't be too hasty to accuse people!" the lawyer shouted putting himself between Mr. Holmes and Mr. Vance. Of course. I thought rolling my eyes. The self righteous one, they are pleasing in their own ways, but always end up dying. "Without concrete evidence we shouldn't accuse people."
"So what are you saying that we let him free until one of us dies again?" Mr. Vance argued. The lawyer was still reluctant but admit defeat.
After most of the guests agreed to restrict Mr. Holmes they cuffed him and locked him in his room. The detective did not make any resistance. How foolish, the facts are already staring at them in the face but they still come up with ridiculous conclusions.
I let them all talk and figure out what to do from now on while I sat in my chair across the fireplace and watch a stack of paper burn.
It has been ten hours since they detained Mr. Holmes and it's already dinnertime. Since there were no staffs, we were left to cook on our own. Thankfully there were more than enough supplies that would last us for quite some time. Since I was the best cook I took the job on making dinner. After I presented dinner, I took another servings and brought it to the detective's room.
When I finally I arrived at the door, I knocked twice and let myself in. Mr. Holmes was sitting on his bed with both palms together and appears to be in deep though since he does not seem to have noticed my presence.
"Good evening Mr. Holmes." I greeted bringing down the plate to the side table.
"I am in no need for food Ms. Adler. It gets in the way of my thinking."
"No matter how intelligent you are Mr. Holmes, you cannot build bricks without clay. Since you are detained you have no way of gathering data. So might as well take on my offer." I said.
"Even if I want to Ms. Adler my hands will not let me." He said referring to his cuffs.
"Oh don't worry, Mr. Holmes. I can help you with that." I said suggestively. He looked at me irritated. "Now say ah." I said offering him the risotto I made.
"No thank you Ms. Adler. I'd rather starve." I rolled my eyes why does he have to be so boring? "So uptight Mr. Holmes." I put the fork back to the plate and took out the key to his cuffs.
He narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
"Oh yes Mr. Holmes. I'm enjoying seeing that troubled face of yours," I teased. I removed his cuffs and handed him the plate.
"That's not a very smart move Ms. Adler. You're letting a suspect free without the security of another person. With the difference in our strength, I only need to put the right amount of pressure in your throat and I could snap your neck." He said.
I chuckled and looked at him with amused eyes. "Yes, Mr. Holmes, I am very much aware that you are capable of doing that but I highly doubt that you would."
He looked at me with curious eyes. "Isn't it more logical to believe that I am the suspect? Given all the evidence and even a witness." He said.
"Logical? I don't think so. Aren't you framed? As a matter of fact, it's more logical to let you free for a higher probability of naming the perpetrator."
"You actually believe that someone sent me a letter and that it disappeared?" He asked raising an eyebrow.
"Well of course Mr. Holmes, I do believe you." I said. "I was, after all, the one who sent you that letter." I continued. His reaction was priceless. It was worth the trouble after all.
"You treacherous woman!" He cried in disbelief. "It's the most interesting case in a while and you just rid me of the opportunity."
I laughed at his grimace. "Well if someone dies again you would have all the freedom to roam around. You should thank me even, I just made this game more interesting for you." His frown didn't leave his face. He's so adorable when he's sulking. "Why would you even want to frame me?"
"Well isn't that the most logical conclusion is that I am the suspect?"
Mr. Holmes rolled his eyes. "Nonsense. You wouldn't be telling me all this if you are and the balance of probability tells me that it's not the case."
I laughed. "Well I am interested in how you would react if you were to be accused."
"You're a psychopath."
"Oh dear me Mr. Holmes, it's rude to call people a psychopath." I teased. "I prefer you call it professional curiosity."
"I thought you're an opera singer?" he asked seemingly lost to our conversation.
"Oh please spare me Mr. Holmes. That's just a hobby." I wouldn't waste all my time with such a boring profession. "I'm a psychiatrist." I continued. "And I am very interested to know what's going on in that sexy brain of yours."