Chapter Ten: Pieces To The Puzzle
AKA: Oh-Gimli-you-be-PWNED!
Jack Sparrow chose this moment to make one of his grand entrances, stumbling into the drawing room, and looking up at the horrified faces, his expression blank for a moment before gradually moving to confused. He opened his mouth, hesitated a moment, his eyes falling upon the form of Colin Frisk. His eyes widened a considerable amount, his mouth agape in his previous attempt to speak. There was a silence that befell the company, then Jack questioned, "I say, did I miss somefin'...or izzat a dead guy?"
His words were met with mixed reactions: some blankly turned to watch him, as though searching for something to do besides stare as the body became cold and stiff, some gave him an angry stare, some ignored him completely. Among this latter group were Legolas, Erik, and Barbossa. The three of them still keeping their eyes locked upon the corpse on the coffee table, where not long ago had sat a note of importance. A note... As though their minds were connected, all three remembered the paper that was on the ground where Melantha had been standing. The weeping creature was in the corner, tears streaking down her pallid face as she watched the three simultaneously leap for the small bit of paper.
Erik reached it first, since he was kneeling at the side of the body, and he swiftly held it up to read it, his eyes darting over to dare anyone to attempt to snatch it from his iron grasp. His grip was wearing through the paper – his fingers almost as intense on grasping the paper as his mind was on deciphering the untidy scrawl.
He is starting to understand the clues. Do not let them figure it out.
It was unsigned, barren of any other marking or fold. It was slightly wrinkled, even before Erik had nearly torn it apart in his eagerness to retrieve it before any other guest, it had looked crumpled; as though a hand had squeezed it within its palm.
Erik looked up from the paper, holding it out for Legolas to take, whose elven eyes quickly scanned it. The fair head rose to meet the now unwaivering gaze of everyone in the room. Legolas read the note aloud, and for a brief instance of time, there was no response. The words were played over and over again in each mind, every one of them trying to piece together the meaning even as their mind attempted to numb in the shock of the evening.
The shroud of fear was broken by Melantha's sobs, and Raoul turned to comfort her, "It is alright, Ma'mselle...it was not your fault."
The response was merely another bout of tears. Erik's voice cut through the room as a dagger cuts through flesh: "Stay where you are. No one leaves this room until things are brought to open."
Frozen in midstep, Jack hesitated at the door he had just been trying to exit, his legs shaking with the strain of holding still. Almost collapsing, he turned to reveal a guilty look, despite his mind remaining too foggy to clearly discern the recent happenings. "I say...you can't think I did it? I'll admit to meself, I'm too drunk to aim a gun right."
Gimli whirled on Jack, shouting, "He wasn't shot, you blithering idiot!"
Jack blinked a couple times, then looked again at the corpse. "Bloody he-- you're right!"
Gimli rolled his eyes impatiently, then said, "Why waste precious time pining away? It's obvious the lass did it." His gaze fell upon Melantha, who shrank from the mutual stares of the party. In a small voice that shook with sobs, she said, "I-I didn't d-do it...I c-came down to ch-check the...the.." she found herself incapable of continuing, and pointed to the fireplace, where a few embers still burned dimly.
Erik did not move his gaze from Melantha, although the woman's eyes began to shift nervously from figure to figure, as they moved in and out of the light, and into shadow. "I didn't do it," she said again. "I found that note on th e mantelpiece. I didn't see...I didn't see him there. I didn't look on the table, but the white paper caught the light, so I looked closely at it. I was confused by it. Then I turned around, and there he was! I never touched him. Never liked Colin, but I didn't hate him. Not enough to..."
"To kill him?" offered Erik coldly, not blinking.
Dumbledore questioned, "Why don't we start simply? Where was everyone, exactly ten minutes ago?"
"Why ten minutes?" asked Barbossa, earning him a suspicious stare from seven pairs of eyes. "I mean, how do we know how long he's been dead?"
"Because," Erik said with little emotion, "the body is not yet cold. And one who has seen death knows it takes longer than ten minutes for everything in the body to stop working. The blood has not fully seeped from the wound, either. Look here," He pointed at the point just under the hilt of the dagger, where Colin's shirt was a bright crimson color, "There is no clotting. This murder happened nary half an hour ago, at least."
Barbossa fell silent. Dumbledore spoke up, "I was headed up the stairs. I did not enter the drawing room until after Erik and Gimli. I had just finished speaking to them both in the kitchens. I do hope they can both claim this as truth." Gimli nodded brusquely, and Erik did not move his gaze from Melantha.
"We can't tell what you did after the kitchen, though." Gimli said, grumbling. "You left about ten minutes before the screams, I should think." These words were accompanied by a glare from the dwarven figure.
"It could not have been more than five minutes." Erik said, letting out a sigh and leaning back in his chair, finally breaking eye contact with Melantha. "The three of us were in the kitchens. Gimli left for the cellar within that time, and returned before Dumbledore left. Unless I am mistaken, there is no other exit from the cellar besides the kitchen, correct?" He turned to Melantha, who nodded solemnly. Erik moved on to watch the other members of the party.
It was Raoul de Chagny who spoke first. "When I exited my chambers, I passed Mademoiselle Rhea, along with Monsieur Barbossa, and Monsieur Greenleaf. We were all together, and there were no footsteps on the stairs for some time before the screams." Erik looked at each person in turn, and they each confirmed it.
"Dumbledore, had you started up the stairs before Mademoiselle Tolbert screamed?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I had not yet reached the stairs," the elderly man started. "I cannot prove where I was at the time, but I can promise you, it was not me... If that promise means anything in a case such as this."
"It doesn't mean much," Erik stated simply, running a hand through his hair, intaking a breath that displayed his need to maintain control. "Mademoiselle, would you care to tell us what really happened?"
Melantha froze as she was addressed, and opened her mouth to speak, before uttering, "Er...where's Morgan?"
Everyone looked around to the shadows, expecting the quiet girl to speak up and declare her location in the room. But there was no Morgan in the room. Jack blinked a couple of times from the doorway, and said, "Blimey, she didn't pass me. I'd have seen her!"
"And what the devil does that count for?" Erik growled, leaping from his chair and racing from the room. The hallway was empty, but the front door stood ajar, a silvery stream of moonlight dancing across the chilly floorboards. Erik's form slithered soundlessly outside, and he halted on the front steps. Morgan Rhea was gone – and so was Erik's car.
