Journals and Diaries
Chapter 2
Part 2
Paying the cab driver the appropriate amount, Jack unlatched the door and pushed outward. The muffled sound of the rain became clear as he took in the fresh smelling water falling from above. A few droplets landed on his coat and hair before stopped by an umbrella. The taxi drove away as Jack made his way towards the familiar street which became a mirror reflecting blur images of yellow lights and people.
People in their respective clothes chattered around a specific building. Blending into the crowd, he excused himself as he pushed his way forward trying not to be rude. Finally he reached the front but found himself separated from the entrance by a yellow tape acting as a barrier. Jack could see the a few of the polices in their black and silver uniform standing around attempting to keep the citizens out.
"Tell me it's not true!" A man in the crowd yelled out.
"How could he die?" It was a woman this time.
"Who did it?"
"I swear if the killer isn't found."
"What about the rest of his family? Are they safe?"
Various other shouts followed one after another, all were about the Ostberg family and Lachlan himself. Jack quickly concluded that outside of being the military general, Lachlan himself must've been a popular figure to the people. He also saw many news journalists writing in their notes and making efforts to talk to the officers.
"Please step back while we wait for the inspector to arrive," a police officer proclaimed loudly, trying his best to let his voice carry across.
"Excuse me," a random man stepped in front of the officer introducing himself. "I'm a detective, so let me through and I'll solve this case."
"Sir, no one is allowed inside except for the inspector and the chief," the office replied sternly.
"But I've done this before, it'll be just a hitch, betcha I don't even need any more than a few hours to figure it out."
"Right, like everyone else who came here," the officer didn't look impressed. "Like I said, no one through, so back off!"
"But, don't you know who I am?"
"Even if I did, I still wouldn't care, an order is an order."
The detective miffed and huffed as he begrudgingly left with wide strides. Jack shook his head snickering quietly at the man's sore ego.
The rain did not cease as it continued to drizzle over everyone. A few muttered well wishes to the family before leaving, slightly lessened the thick crowd. Jack heard a sound of an automobile being pulled up and the police made a parting way. From the black vehicle the door opened with a man stepping out. Jack estimated for him to be taller than himself. The lights showed his auburn-red hair with side burns, about his age, he bore a long navy trench coat. As he started walking towards the house's entrance, he flashed smiles to the crowd. A few girls had hands over their heart while sighing with a dreamy looks in their eyes.
Jack's eyes continued following the man when he approached a police officer and raised a badge.
"Inspector Henzel Kingsbury Westergard," the man identified himself. "The Chief's inside?"
"Yes sir, he wants to see you," the officer nodded and let Henzel passed.
"Well, he's a popular person," Jack said to no one in particular. When he heard a gasp, he turned to his side to see a girl gawking at him, bewildered.
"Did I say something miss?" Jack asked.
"I can't believe you don't know who he is," the girl replied. "He's THE Inspector Henzel, the most talented man ever."
"Sorry, never heard of him," Jack shrugged.
"How could you not? He is smarter than every single detective out there, and not to mention that gorgeous smile of his," the girl sighed dreamily, eyes lingered on the door that Henzel went through. Jack only nodded and ignored the fan.
A Westergard too, Lachlan mentioned that their families weren't exactly the friendliest with each other. It drew his curiosity how the person Henzel will deal with this. But now, he had to find a way inside. Climbing windows was a no go and the officers were guarding this place tight.
Jack clicked his tongue several times contemplating for options. His fingers tapping on the umbrella's handle as he crossed his arms.
"Excuse me sir," Jack called out to an officer near him who turned to look. "I'm a friend of the Ostberg family and I'm concerned for them so would you let me pass?"
"Right, you definitely are one," the officer rolled his eyes sarcastically. "You're not the first to say that."
"No really, just tell them Jackson wants to meet and they'll know who I am," Jack insisted, trying to sound convincing.
The officer eyed him suspiciously. "And if you're not?"
"You can personally throw me off a bridge if you desire so," Jack shrugged.
The officer chuckled at that, he nodded. "Alright, I'll see to that, wait here." He motioned for another policeman and gave him instruction. The man went inside and a short moment later he returned with the response.
"Least you're truthful, go in," the officer lifted the police line and Jack ducked under going in. He did a two-finger salute before disappearing through the door. The noises from the people outside became nothing more than incoherent muffled sounds. He glanced down at the dim and familiar interior, gone were the bright light and friendly warmth, it was now all dark in the midst of night under the rain. Jack folded the umbrella and left it by the saw Anna's head peeked our from a corner and she ran up to him. Jack took a step back as she threw herself at him, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something dampening his shirt.
Anna was crying, Jack froze as he stood there. Receiving hugs was somewhat now a foreign feeling to him unless it's his mother or little sister. Hesitantly, he reached up with one hand softly massaging her back and the other patting on the shoulder. They stayed still for about half a minute or so before Anna pulled back, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks.
"I'm sorry, that was impolite of me," Anna sniffed. Her personality did a complete switch from when Jack met her, he's not seeing the cheeky and cheerful young lady, but completely defeated and void of life. "It's just, I just, can't believe that he's just...gone."
Jack placed a hand on her shoulder comfortably, squeezing it softly as he looked into her eyes. "Alright, I'll try and do what I can, but now you have to stay strong, alright?"
"Okay," Anna nodded, her eyes still wet as she wiped them away. "Okay, I will."
"Good, now take a deep breath."
Anna inhaled sharply.
"Now let it out."
She exhaled.
"Good, feeling better?"
Anna nodded, she sniffed once more. "Thank you."
"Alright, be strong, you'll get through this, I know you can." Jack spoke firmly, trying his best to give her confidence.
"Okay, okay, I can be strong. I will be strong. I know I am strong," Anna said to herself repeatedly. She pursed her lips and looked up at him confidently, tears no longer shed from her eyes.
Jack smiled at her, patting the shoulders proudly. "Good, now let's go."
"Okay, follow me," Anna turned and made her way down the hallway with Jack followed suit.
Upon entering the living room, lit up by the lights and the chandelier itself, gallantly showing off its reflective beauty and perfect craftsmanship. Five people excluding him and Anna were sitting on the couch. Lydia, Elizabeth, Rose on one, a stranger that Jack assumed to be the city police chief on the other. They all turned to look at them.
"So you are Jackson, I presume?" The man wearing an officer uniform asked, his voice slightly gruff, probably due to age. He sported dark grey hair, a beard ran along at the bottom of his chin. The clothes were likely put together in a rush judging from its messiness. He looked tired and weary.
"Yes sir," Jack replied. "Jackson Overland."
"I've known Lachlan for a long time, but I've never seen you around before, what's your relation to him?" The chief asked suspiciously.
"He's a detective, don't worry Anders, and we know him," Lydia spoke up, Jack only nodded in affirmation.
"Alright then," the chief sighed and stood up, he put out his right hand in a friendly gesture. "Anders Strand, chief of the police force, pleasure."
"Please to be your acquaintance, sir," Jack shook his hand. He glanced around looking for a missing person. "I remembered seeing inspector Henzel coming earlier?"
Jack didn't miss the little brow's twitch above Elizabeth's right eye.
"Yes, he did, he's currently examining the crime scene right now," Anders replied, nodding.
"Um, may I as well?" Jack asked, hesitantly.
Anders looked at him warily, turning to Lydia who gave assurance. He sighed and stood up, motioning for Jack to follow. Jack gave a nod of thanks and trailed after the man, giving the Ostberg family members a sympathetic glance as he passed. He could see that Lydia was doing her best to comfort her daughters, she eyed him hopefully.
Following the elder man up the stairs, Jack stepped carefully with a proper pace.
Creak!
A small squeak from the wood drew Jack's attention. He didn't remember it being there before, but he shrugged and continued on.
Walking through the familiar passage, he felt a sensation that had became a long-time acquaintance of his throughout the years: a dead person. He dreaded to see what was behind the forsaken all too familiar door.
In front of said object, Anders knocked on it several times before reached down for the handle. Turning it he opened. Jack saw Henzel inspecting a body that was on the ground, with a closer look, it was Lachlan. The elder man bore a simple white shirt with folded sleeves up to his elbows, dark brown pants and white socks. Lying on his stomach, one hand spread outward, one tucked beneath. A pool of red formed under him. His eyes were closed, as if he was in a peaceful sleep. But the body was still, there was no rise and fall, no sign of breathing, no hint of life.
He was gone.
Dead.
Death, it wasn't foreign to Jack. Even as a young boy, he had witnessed a man getting shot and dying on the spot. He didn't understand then, but he knew that it would be something he disliked. Ironically, now everything he did revolved around death. He should be used to it by now, but truthfully, it still gave him a little churn in his stomach every now and then.
Lachlan was an exception, he felt a bit odd compared to the other cases. Jack only knew the man for a short moment, but they made a little connection. It was like making friends with someone before they died.
Jack looked around the room, or he supposed the crime scene now. Papers scattered on the desk surface, black ink spilled from its bottle. The room reeked of it and blood, most likely closed for an extended period of time. The body laid angular from the work space, away from the leather chair. The head in the direction of the alphabetical cabinets and the lower half to the desk.
"Ah, Chief," Jack snapped out of his observation when the third man spoke up. Henzel was now standing and looked at him curiously. "And you are?"
Jack was about to answer but Anders spoke instead.
"This is Jackson Overland, a detective."
"Detective? But I thought I was working on this case," Henzel asked, confused.
"He's a friend of the family, Lydia insists," Anders replied.
"I see, well, nice to meet you, I'm Henzel Westergard," He flashed a formal smile at Jack. He showed his gloved hands, both were tainted with blood. "Under normal circumstances I would shake hands, but as you can see, mines are not very clean."
"I don't mind," Jack said, shrugging. He dug into his coat's pocket and fished out a fresh pair of latex gloves and put them on. He snapped at the band a few times for good measure. "Pleasure working with you."
"Same as well," Henzel nodded.
Jack stepped forward nearer to the body and crouched down for a better look.
"So what have you got so far?"
"Not much, still a mystery," Henzel answered, fingers digging around Lachlan's arm, inspecting it.
"Well I'll leave you two at it," Anders said before he went back out and closed the door.
"Have you moved anything?"
"None."
Jack decided to observe the room first. He walked over to the back window, raising the curtains probing at the frame. Locked, cleaned, and untouched. So the culprit couldn't have used it as an escape.
He turned back to the desk. Items tussled, drawers opened and their contents shuffled. Someone was definitely looking for something, and in a hurry too. Up to the surface: documents, papers, pens, and a pair of reading glasses. There were writings on those papers, but the spilled black ink soaked most of them making it impossible to see what was written. Could have been an accident knocking it over.
He then moved to the cabinets, several of the drawers were opened. Papers and sheets poking out at the edges. Jack looked to the shelf on the other side of the room. Books fell on the floor, creating gaps in the shelves that weren't there before, like a person missing several teeth. It seemed that none of the valuables were taken. The medals and plaques were still there. The culprit was searching for something, something important, perhaps more so than money, and most likely didn't find it judging from the mess.
He had an idea of what that item might be.
Jack went back to the body and reached his fingers in under Lachlan's jaw checking for pulse, he found none, as expected. He ran his hand along the back to feel any sort of wound, there weren't any.
"Let's turn him over," Jack suggested. "We need to take a better look at that wound."
"The only way to figure this out," Henzel agreed and reached over to one side of Lachlan's body. Jack helped him and proceeded to carefully turn him over. As the body began to move, blood dripped from the drenched onto the pool below, creating small ripples. The light shone upon the red clearly with its small white particles. With great care, the pair laid Lachlan onto his back, revealing a silver item underneath.
It's red, red everywhere, and the stench travelled straight into Jack's nasal caverns without any restraint. It could be described as suffocating, if he was still the young and fresh detective he started out as. Unfortunately, the metallic odor had long became dull and void to him.
On Lachlan's front crimson torso was littered with tears. Clean and sharp tearing marks that did not leave scuffs. These were knife stabs, and there were five of them, all aimed at the abdomen area. Cause of death?
"Severe hemorrhage," Henzel concluded, fingers tracing along the edges of the cloth.
Jack nodded and leaned down to look closer as he spread the tears slightly.
"Estimated time of death is between two and three hours ago. Victim likely passed out from the assault and died shortly afterward." Jack dug his fingertips into the wounds by a fraction, promptly ignored the still warm flesh pressed against them and the squelching sound it made. "Organs, screwed. Even to a hospital the chance of survival is zero."
"There were struggles, it looked like he attempted to pull out his handgun, an extra belt hole was used here," Henzel theorized, staring at the said item that was drowned in the pool of blood. "No bullet shell, no gunfire."
"Judging from the size of these wounds and cuts, not an army knife, but more likely a kitchen type," Jack said and Henzel nodded. "Find the weapon anywhere?"
"Not in this room," Henzel shook his head. "I looked everywhere, not a single sign."
"With this much blood and stabs, there should be stains on the culprit, at the midsection. By this time, he or she could've gotten quite far away right now somewhere in the city," Jack remarked. "But still needs a lot more information than this to narrow anyone down."
Henzel let out a disappointed sigh and stood up, he paced back and forth with two hands clamped together in front of his chin in a thinking posture.
"Frustrated?" Jack asked.
"Who wouldn't be?" Henzel snorted. "Practically little to no possible clue for a lead. The questions being why, who, how, when, and what. So definitely a kitchen knife, that leaves one out. Occurred approximately an hour and a half ago, so possibly another. Why? Someone was looking for something, evident by the trashed room. That leaves who did it, and how did the culprit get in and out without anyone seeing? The window's shut and neatly locked, that could only be done from the inside. It couldn't have been a suicide, I know Lachlan better than that. A locked room murder, and a damn annoying one."
So Henzel and Lachlan are acquaintances of sort, even with the distaste between two families, he supposed there were still good enough people. Jack pondered on that little fact before looking back at the corpse.
"Well, there's another one, this person is skilled with a blade," Jack said, catching Henzel's attention. "All of them were vital points. Knowledgeable about the human anatomy as well. Intestine, pancreas, liver, probably the spleen, and the left kidney. That's not something an amateur can do."
"Well that narrows down the list a little," Henzel nodded. "But there's still more aspects to consider. We need the entire story from the others and their alibis and find out who he's been interacting with."
Jack nodded, agreeing.
"Why don't you go ahead, I'll just stay here and look around for a little more."
Henzel looked at him with inspective eyes before tilted his head and turned for the door.
"All right, good luck."
And with that he left the room and shut the door after he left.
In all honesty, Jack disliked working with other detectives. He had done a few collaborations in the past, but they all annoyed him. Sharing information and waiting for theories slowed him down. Most of all, he hated incompetence. He preferred solving problems by himself instead. Quicker, simpler, and more efficient.
There was something about Henzel that irked him, maybe it was that grin from earlier when he flashed to the crowd, more specifically, the female populace. The man was no doubt popular, or was it the family name?
Jack sighed softly, he should probably pick up a newspaper from time to time. Although, having a little fanclub of his own never hurt. He chuckled at the silly thought.
He glanced back down to the bloody body and reached in for the silver six-shooter. As he lifted it from the ground, streams of red ran from the tip to the handle and finally dipped into the forsaken liquid of death. It was still sparkling, he could tell that the weapon received great care, barely any major scratches embedded themselves on the flawless designed steel. Different from his own, Lachlan's had a rosemaling pattern along the barrel. Six bullets still sat in their cartridge respectively. Unlike the rest of the body, the handle was made of polished oak wood with series of grip bumps.
A fast revolver, short range, polished condition.
Jack flipped to the bottom. An engraving etched into the metal part.
W-Gunsmith.
He raised the eyebrows unevenly at the name, must be the creator. At least there was a clue as to where this gun was from. He had expected Lachlan's name or initials instead. Turning over to the barrel, something caught Jack's eyes.
The inside was completely clean, no signs of prior usage. As if this was a brand new straight from the factory gun.
He quickly popped out the cartridge to investigate. Reeling it back he let the bullets slid out into his palm. All were fresh and shiny. The compartment was as well.
Jack softly chewed on his tongue in confusion as he put the bullets back in. He decided to keep it for any possible findings. He fished out a piece of cloth and wrapped up the six-shooter carefully before tucking it back inside the coat.
There was, were, something in, no, floating on the blood. Jack kneeled down for a closer look. Brown colored pieces scattered here and there, some on the part where it was dry. Thin and needle like, but thick at the middle.
Splinters. Tiny and small wooden splinters.
Jack tried to find all of them. When he reached Lachlan's body, they were there too. He had missed it at first. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped over to the other side and lifted the corpse gently. None on the back or the blood. He let go of the body and bit his inner cheek.
He looked around for any broken wood markings on the furniture, but everything was still intact.
Sucking a breath in frustration, Jack paid Lachlan a small farewell with a silence before leaving the room. He needed more information. He removed the gloves as he descended the stairs. Noises of a conversation was going on, it was between many people. He saw Henzel writing in a notebook as he asked. There was a tray of tea on the table and Anders was holding a cup in his hand. Lydia talked, seemingly answering questions given by the inspector.
"Like I told you, by the time we got back, he wasn't answering at all from his room," Lydia said as she rubbed her fingers over her hand. "We just thought that he was working on some important documents. It wasn't until Rose bringing in tea that she found his body."
"And how long ago was this?" Henzel asked.
Lydia shrugged and glanced back to Rose, who had a calculating look.
"About more than an hour ago, 25 minutes or so before the chief arrived."
"You called him right away when you found your father?"
"Yes," Rose nodded.
"So let me sum this up," Henzel began, going over the notes. "The four of you were out except for Sir Lachlan for a...chocolate night at 10:45 supposedly. You all arrived back at home by around 11:30 and discovered Sir Lachlan's body at approximately 11:45. Chief Anders got to the scene by 12:10 and then contacted me, is that correct?"
"That's about it," Lydia affirmed, her voice a little weak. "It's still a blur, we were all so shocked."
"I understand," Henzel nodded, looking gloom.
Jack made himself known by stepping into the room, catching everyone's attention. Elizabeth was embracing both Anna and Rose when her eyes landed on him. It didn't take a genius to understand that there was great sadness behind those blue orbs. In fact, they were all staring at him, as if expecting for good news, except for Henzel.
"Ah Jack, how was the search?"
Jack shook his head. "Nothing much, nothing that made sense anyway.
"So you found something else?"
"It's irrelevant either way, didn't help."
"I see," Henzel nodded in understanding, he turned back to the family. "From our investigation earlier, Sir Lachlan was brutally stabbed many times and died from severe blood loss. An estimate of one hour before his body was found."
Lydia's breath hitched, she held a hand over her mouth, tears forming from her eyes. Her daughters faired no better.
Jack only stood still with his arms crossed, avoiding Elizabeth's hopeful gaze. Waiting for Henzel to continue.
"With a closer look at the body, there were clues indicating that the killer is skilled with a knife. The wounds came from a kitchen knife, however, there were no traces of blood that lead anywhere or signs of breaking out summarize the fact that that weapon of murder is still here somewhere in or around this house," Henzel said.
The statement caused looks of astonishment from the others. Jack only arched his brow slightly.
"So you're saying that," Anders began and Henzel nodded.
"We should start searching for any possible evidence. The best start should be the kitchen."
"Are you proposing that the culprit hid something there?" Elizabeth spoke up, eyes not leaving Henzel's.
"Always a possibility Miss Elizabeth," Henzel replied. "One can never be too sure."
She then looked at Jack, he simply shrugged.
"Has to start somewhere," Jack said.
"Very well then, this way," Lydia stood up along with Rose. They went to back and Henzel followed.
Anders gave a frustrating sigh before placing down the cup and went with the group, leaving Jack, Anna, and Elsa together.
He could only look at the sisters saying nothing. He wasn't good with comfort talk, heck, he didn't even like to associate with people willingly unless someone started a conversation. He had always preferred taking on a case, solve it, collect payment, and leave quickly. The term attachment was long detached from his dictionary.
"Nothing?"
Jack heard Elizabeth asked him, he eyed her questioningly gaze. Anna was wiping her eyes again, also staring at him. They both looked tired, as if they were haunted by nightmares. They probably would be for the next few nights. It was never easy handling the death of a parent.
He knew the feeling, he knew what it felt like all too damn well.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his chin.
"Wouldn't say nothing, I just need something else to make sense."
"Like what?"
"Not sure yet," Jack shrugged.
"Oh."
The Ostberg sisters deflated, like a balloon slowly losing air. He didn't understand why, but it irked him.
"One question though," Jack began, catching their attention. "Why was there a crowd outside your house?"
Elizabeth looked at her sister and they both shrugged.
"We don't know, people just showed up out of nowhere, demanding to know what happened to our father."
"How soon did people start popping up?"
"Hmm," Elizabeth hummed, an index finger probing at her chin in a thinking manner. "It was shortly before Chief Anders came. We don't know how the people even know."
Jack nodded, saving the information internally.
"No idea who broadcasted it?"
The sisters shook their heads.
Elizabeth then looked curiously at him. "Aren't you going to join them in the kitchen? Looking for clues and evidences?"
"No," Jack replied curtly.
"Why?"
"I have a feeling that they won't be in there, it's too obvious," Jack said.
"Obvious?" Anna asked.
"Because that's where a detective would first look," Jack began explaining, leaning against the wall. "As he said before, it's most likely a kitchen knife. But with such a mystic crime scene and clues, the culprit is a clever one. I doubt that he or she will leave the items where they're easy to be found."
"I see," Elizabeth said.
"Ah, ooh, that's smart," Anna commented.
It made Jack chuckled a little.
"So where do you think the killer will hide it?"
"I have an idea, but you two might not like it," Jack responded.
Elizabeth had her eyes narrowed slightly, Anna looked a bit scared.
"I'd say the killer has something against your father, usually, that would involve the other family members as well and if it was me," Jack paused, pursing his lips. "I would likely to make one of you my next target."
The room was met with silence, except for the clock ticking and muffled noises from the kitchen. Anna's eyes were widened in fear, he body trembled a little. Elizabeth was startled from his replied, but recovered quickly and wrapped her arms around the younger sister tightly.
She gave him a small glare and Jack was taken back by its fierceness. He looked away rather quickly.
"But I wouldn't worry about it right now," Jack said. "Things are getting attention from people, it'd be too risky for the killer to mark his next victim."
Anna flinched at the last word and Jack sucked in a curse when Elizabeth glowered at him.
"Just make sure you're never alone, always stick with someone and stay safe until the whole thing is over."
The younger Ostberg seemed to have calm down, Anna reached for a cup and sipped the drink. She was tired, exhausted even, her deep blue eyes tracing the tea as ripples formed repeatedly. Elizabeth rubbed her back soothingly.
The scene suddenly reminded of Jack when he would comfort his little sister from her nightmares, thunders, and lonely nights. He missed those moments. He rubbed his brows and sighed. He needed coffee. Tea would keep him awake, but he preferred the bitterness of the black beverage.
"I'm tired," Anna mumbled, leaning into Elizabeth and snuggling into her neck.
"Shhh," Elizabeth whispered as she patted the other's hair softly. She looked up at him expectantly, as if waiting for a comment.
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it when he saw Henzel and the group coming back. Elizabeth turned to look as well.
"Nothing?"
Henzel shook his head confirming the question. Lydia and Anders stood by looking fatigued. Rose rushed to the sisters' side immediately.
"What are you planning next?" Jack asked.
"I think," Henzel spoke, glancing at the staircase. "We should search the rooms as well."
Anders looked at the inspector curiously. "You think so?"
"It's a possibility," Henzel shrugged. "They're less accessible places in the household making it a great spot to hide secrets. Where there are personal items, it's less likely that others will look."
"You do have a point," Anders agreed. "But are you sure that the evidences are even here? What if the culprit fled with them and dumped them somewhere?"
"I'm sure, the victim's room was entirely trashed, the killer was looking for something, and hadn't found it. It only makes sense that the culprit would keep a close eye on this place until he or she finds it," Henzel explained.
Jack didn't find any need to add to that statement, it wasn't wrong. He just nodded when Lydia and Anders eyed him for an opinion.
"Very well, we can start with ours," Lydia said.
"It's best if it would just be us," Henzel asserted, pointing at himself and Jack. Gaining curious looks from the room's other occupants. "We'll know better of what to look for in specifics. Also to share theories."
Jack didn't say anything all eyes shifted their gazes to him. He shrugged and stood up straight, hands tucked in the coat's pockets.
"Sounds fair enough."
"More waiting then," Anders sighed, he glanced down to the silver wristwatch. "Almost two in the morning now. How long you think the search's going to take?"
"Thoroughly? I'd say an hour at least," Henzel answered.
"Well, get to it. I want the killer found as soon as possible."
"Got it, sir," Henzel nodded. Lydia motioned him to follow as she made her way to the stairs.
Jack only took a glance back at the three sisters and police chief before leaving the room. He walked behind Henzel until Lydia stopped in front of a brown wooden door. She opened it and Jack veered inside.
A moderate sized room with a fairly large bed sat in the middle. The room had a royal look to it with fancy furniture. A large window to the side with curtains parted to each end. The floor carpeted in a deep wine red color and golden floral markings. An armchair situated in a corner next to an table with a lamp. One long desk with drawers directed across from the bed with a mirror in front, on it was a flower vase and papers neatly in a stack. A dresser stood next to it. There was a painted picture of the room's couple in their formal attires, a wedding portrait.
The room looked entirely clean, clear of any disruption that may have happened. The sheets and pillows were made, chair tucked in neatly within the desk. There were no preemptive markings on the flushed carpet. Everything was in their appropriate places.
It's not uncommon for detectives to operate inside private areas in order to search for clues, but it still gave Jack a sense of invasion every time he did so. Especially when it was a female's room. Being called a pervert wasn't something he's proud of. It's not his fault when the bloody undergarments were in such attractive colors and designs. He may be single, but it would be damned if he didn't appreciate a woman's beauty.
"May we, ma'am?"
Henzel's voice snapped Jack out of a rather unpleasant flashback that involved a handprint on his cheek. The shrill scream of the woman that night accusing him as a sexual deviant made him a lot more careful when it came to female clothes. It was a poor excuse of a private eye that somehow 'accidentally' knocked over a basket of lingeries. Needlessly to say, Jack left early after the case not even bothering to collect payment at all. The woman was in her late 30's yet she hired two detectives in their early 20's to find a missing diamond ring. She was divorced, he didn't even need to ask why.
"Yes," Lydia nodded. "I'll wait outside."
The door clicked shut softly behind him. Neither he or Henzel made a move to search.
"Well, certainly not this room that's for sure," Jack commented, eyes sweeping the area with sharp vision.
"Would be stupid for the killer to hide anything here, it's right next to the office room," Henzel added.
"Then why are we in here again?" Jack asked.
"Admiring," Henzel replied.
Jack raised a brow at the inspector.
"You're awfully cooperative with an outsider for a police investigator."
Henzel chuckled.
"It's not everyday I see a detective that doesn't boast."
"Worked with many others before?"
"See at least one every week."
"Opinion?"
"Some of them shouldn't even think about working at all with that kind of intelligence."
"It's the experience that counts more you know," Jack commented.
"True, but with ignorance it's difficult to change," Henzel responded. "Without an open mind, always following a single trail of clue will eventually lead to a dead-end. Only those who sees more than one can find the right answer."
Jack snickered in amusement.
"Page 25, paragraph 3, line 38?"
Henzel smirked.
"Crime Commission and Compromise, volume 1, autographed."
Jack whistled.
"Always wanted to meet the author. Shame he died. How'd you get yours?"
"I was three when I met the guy. Chipper like it was already Christmas. It's not everyday one gets to meet his idol. How many time have you read it?"
"Five, probably, rereading it for the sixth time," Jack answered.
"Eight times for me," Henzel chuckled and crossed his arms. "Such a great book."
"Got me interested into this."
"No doubt, Detective Frost."
Jack looked at him.
"So that's why you were willing to work with me."
Henzel shrugged.
"Had to keep my eyes on the competitions and you have a good reputation."
"But I only showed up like two times on the paper."
"Those that stay off the spotlights are the good ones. It was clear back there, you knew exactly what you were looking for."
"Heh," Jack craned his neck. "I just hate journalists, never even bothered to read the news these days. What about you then? You seemed popular with the people."
"Oh, they're just giving me too much credits," Henzel said. "I don't consider myself that good, just decent enough to keep my job."
"And you call me humble," Jack remarked.
"Can't judge oneself too much, don't want a case of large ego," Henzel chuckled. "I wanted to do that decade long one, never got the chance to go to Coronan at that time. How'd you solve it?"
"Wasn't exactly easy and it was actually longer than a decade. The family's daughter was missing for almost 18 years, not a single person had any clue where to start. It was as if she just disappeared. As they described it, only a few months after the girl was born, her crib was empty in one night. They searched everywhere, threw out lots of expenses for the best investigators all over, but nothing."
"What about you?" Henzel asked.
Jack shrugged.
"I started with some backtracking, picture of how the little girl would look like when grown up. Visit shady bars hoping to catch wind of some murky conversations. A lot of scurrying around, well, assuming that the girl was still alive in the first place. One morning stroll when I saw a river by the edge of town, curious, so I followed it. Deep into the woods and behind a veil of vines, there was a cottage with a water wheel by a creek. It was quite a beautiful area actually."
"A veil of vines?" Henzel looked confused.
"Oh," Jack explained. "It's this cave-like entrance separating the forest from inside, like a large cove. The river flowed through though. The house didn't look deserted. Went up and knocked on the door, heard nothing. It wasn't locked, so I just went in. Then I blacked out."
"Blacked out? An assault?" Henzel asked.
"Uh huh," Jack nodded, rubbing the back of his head. He still remember the pain from that day. "A frying pan, yeah, it hurt, a lot. Woke up, was tied into a chair and saw young girl, tried to talk to her, she didn't say much. Turned out she's the missing girl, kidnapped by an obsessed old woman. Story short, she returned and the family rejoiced."
Jack did a silent but dramatic effect by wiggling his fingers.
Henzel chuckled at that, shaking his head. He looked around. "We should split up for the next rooms. We're just wasting time in here."
"You should have said that earlier, my legs are tired," Jack retorted.
"Sorry," Henzel laughed. "I was just really curious about you."
"Could've saved it for tomorrow."
"True."
"Your story then?" Jack asked.
"What?" Henzel turned.
"I thought your family and Sir Lachlan's aren't on friendly term."
"Oh, well," Henzel rolled his eyes. "That was my idiotic youngest brother and the second eldest for being lustful. I myself is in the middle pack and left to work as soon as I was able. Living with a bunch of morons is a nightmare."
"Not a family man then?" Jack was amused.
"Only for a sensible one, not the greedy type. I'm already a black sheep for working with Sir Lachlan. The man is far more admirable then my father will ever be," Henzel scoffed. "He has always been jealous of how Sir Lachlan is more favored by the people. My brothers also hated me for 'joining the enemy' as they put it."
"I see," Jack nodded. "You seem like an all right person."
"I can tell you dislike working with others," Henzel chortled. "Hopefully I'll be of use and won't disappoint."
"We'll see," Jack remarked. "Let's start with the other room now."
"Let's do that."
They left the room and found Lydia waiting outside in a chair. She stood up right away. Henzel only shook his head and she deflated.
"May we start with the other rooms?"
"Yes, of course," Lydia gave a soft nod, she pointed down the hallway. "Annabelle's right next to ours, followed by Elizabeth's and Rose's is acrossed."
"Thank you," Henzel said, he turned to Jack. "I'll start with Annabelle's, why don't you search Elizabeth's?"
"Uh, sure," Jack agreed.
Both investigators went to their assigned room to inspect.
The nerves hit him a little when Jack placed his hand on the door handle. He hoped that nothing 'compromising' would show up, he didn't want to relive the experience. One was bad enough, two? A definite no. He opened it and stepped in.
His first impression? Books, a lot of books. There was a tremendous amount of shelves and racks all filled with the paper reading materials. So many of them that he would've thought of this as a miniature library if not for a bed decorated in fractals in the corner. Everything was neat, the only thing qualified as a mess was an opened book sitting on the desk.
The room was blue, it gave a frosty and cool feeling. The carpet was green with magenta flakes. A soft hue from the moonlight made the blue curtains almost glowing. As pretty as it was, he had work to do. Jack paced around observing small details. He dropped down to find anything suspicious on the floor.
Nothing. He scanned the books next, but they were all orderly shelved. Not even a gap could be seen. Majority of them were history books about various things, from a ceased kingdom to nation conflicts. There were also ones about romances, he rolled his eyes. Women. What spiked his attention the most was the ones sat near the end: diaries. The number of years showed that she had been writing from a very young age.
Jack chuckled at that. He turned away as he didn't want to invade her privacy. Not anymore than he already was anyway. His eyes moved to the bed, more specifically the pillows. He wanted to be sure. He reached down under one to feel the soft fabric, more specifically what's under it. The indents suggested something small. With closer presses, they identified themselves as gloves.
Phew, so he wasn't wrong. That would've been embarrassing.
Jack fixed the pillow and stood back. He decided that it was clear so he left.
Henzel appeared almost right away when Jack closed the door. He didn't have to ask to know that the inspector had found nothing either. That left Rose's room.
They went into together. Oppositely, this room was a lot more ordinary. Nothing really stood out. The usual furniture belonged to a bedroom were there. It was not as tidy, papers still laid out on a desk, the chair not properly placed back in. A few dresser's drawers poked out a little and he could see a piece of white clothing hanged out.
Jack scouted the room with frugal eyes, viewing the smallest detail it had to offer. Then he stopped, so did Henzel. Something was on the tan carpet.
It was a small droplet.
And it was dark red.
There was no doubt about it.
It was blood.
He immediately crouched down for a closer looks. He studied the shape of the marking. Its tail showed the direction it fell from. He looked up to see a tall double-door cabinet.
Henzel made a step forward and opened the latch. He spread the hanging formal dresses to find a bundle at the bottom.
It smelled like blood.
Henzel hesitantly put on a fresh pair of gloves and reached in for the item. He brought it out so Jack could see. He unrolled it carefully, Jack went quiet when he saw something flashed.
A knife coated with blood. Its blade size was the same from Lachlan's wounds. The other item was a long black apron, with markings of splattered liquid all over the front section.
Henzel looked at him grimly.
As the evidence suggested, the killer was clear.
But why?
Jack didn't say anything as he stood there. He heard footsteps coming it and they were Lydia's
"Why did I smell something odd?" Lydia asked, she saw what was in Henzel's hands and gasped.
"It couldn't be."
"We found it in the dresser," Henzel replied.
"No, no, no, she wouldn't, I know she wouldn't," Lydia put her hands up covering her quivering lips. "It's just not possible."
"It's not for sure Madam Ostberg, but I'll have to take her in for questioning."
Lydia failed to reply when she suddenly lost her footing. Jack was quick to hold her up steadily. She was shaking hard and he gingerly let her sat down onto the bed.
"We'll have to bring this down," Henzel said. "I'll let Chief Anders know that they can clean up the crime scene now."
Lydia only nodded. It didn't take a professor to know that she was in deep shock. Jack only hope she wouldn't have an attack right now. Carefully he helped her stand up to follow the Westergard inspector out.
At the end of the stairway and into the occupied room, Henzel showed what he had found.
"We found this in Miss Rose's room."
Anders stared at it then to said person with clear disturbance in his eyes. Anna and Elizabeth widened theirs. Rose simply froze.
"Rose?" Anna whispered, scared. Elizabeth only looked.
"No, no, it wasn't me," Rose said when snapped out of the moment. "I swear it wasn't me."
"Rose?" Anders asked her again. "Rose, look at me."
"It really wasn't me!" Rose said again louder. "I sw-swear I-I didn't know! You have to believe me!"
"Yea-yeah, I believe you," Anna held her hands tightly, she looked to Elizabeth. "You too right Elsa? You believe her too right? There's no way, she's our sister."
Elizabeth looked like she was close to tears, she nodded and held Rose as well.
"I believe her."
"You sure you found it there?" Anders asked Henzel.
"Jackson was in there as well," Henzel motioned to him.
Anders eyed Jack, so did the sisters.
He bit his inner cheek and nodded. Lydia sucked in a sob.
The police chief closed his eyes in frustration, he placed the cup down gently and got to his feet.
"I'm sorry, but we'll have to take her in."
"No, no you can't," Rose cried. "I'm innocent I swear, I didn't do anything at all!"
"We know she's innocent, please!" Anna claimed. "Don't take her away. Elsa, do something."
Elizabeth stood protectively in front of the two, she eyed her mother. Lydia spoke to Anders with a pleading tone.
"Please Anders, don't take her away from me too."
"I'm sorry Lydia, but I have to follow protocols. Henzel, bring the evidence in," Anders said. His expression showed disdain, but the man was firm. "I'll send in a team to bring Lachlan's body to the morgue and clean the room."
"Yes sir," Henzel complied and went outside.
"Rose," Anders stood in front of the sisters. "Please, just come with me back to the station. I'll let the investigation keep running and we will have more time to figure this out."
Rose whimpered and gave a shaky nod, she slowly stepped forward. Anna held her back.
"Rose, but you can't! You're innocent."
"I'm so lucky to have such a caring sister," Rose smiled weakly, tears in her eyes as she hugged Anna. Then to Elizabeth. "You were so kind to me. Thank you."
Elizabeth didn't bother to hold back the sobs as the three sisters embraced each other. Lydia removed herself from Jack's hold and went forward to put her arms around the group.
"Come back to us soon," Lydia said.
"I will, mother," Rose replied.
Jack and Anders watched as the women shared their moment with each other.
"You seems conflicted," Jack commented quietly.
"Speak for yourself," Anders grunted. "You don't look satisfied with what you've found."
The man's an observant one.
"Things just don't make sense yet," Jack affirmed. "I need to look more into it."
"I don't know why, but I feel like I should trust you," Anders convey gravely. "Whatever it is, make sure it brings happiness to this family. I won't take my best friend's death lightly."
"Will do," Jack said, feeling a bit intimidated. "Sir."
"Good," Anders nodded. "Time to go Rose."
"Yes, sir," Rose replied, sniffling quietly. She stepped out despite Anna's protest. She smiled weakly at Jack weakly before leaving with Anders.
Anna collapsed down to the couch and cried her eyes out. Lydia didn't fair any better as she could only hold her daughter in the most comforting way possible. Elizabeth hugged her frame, she looked at him with eyes that could be summed up in one word.
Betrayal.
A pang of guilt shot through Jack's chest. He looked away in contempt. The small bulge in his coat helped him shifted his focus back to the case as several men came in with a black body bag.
This was going to be another sleepless night.
Author's Note: Holy crap I finally did it, another chapter that you guys have been waiting for (hopefully). I suppose the last update was a misstep as it wasn't what you guys wanted xD. I'm sorry, but I cooked that one up pretty quickly. Should've saved it for Mother's Day though. It's not easy writing this one as it is far more difficult than the first part. I literally got lost halfway through, my dosage of Sherlock wasn't as high as when I started lol.
And this is dedicated for my little on-borderline-of-insanity virtual sister MischievousRose. I hope you're happy now. Now I just need like 5 months for the next part, pretty please?
And to windstruck07: I need a book on how to understand girls. Is it available anywhere?
And to Secretly A Duck: I think your inspiration dust is slowly killing my brain.
-May the Fortress be with You.