Wine, Part Four

Rain was coming down in torrents, beating heavily against the window to the sitting room in the Hargreaves mansion. Cain was lying on a sofa with his eyes closed, but Riff knew that he wasn't really asleep. Just thinking, sorting thing out in his mind.

"Where was I during each murder?" Cain asked. Rhetorical question. "I had been entertaining guests at dinner when the bench scraper victim was found. She probably died beforehand, when we were in here. The butter knife victim was killed sometime while I was in that cabaret with Oscar. And the soupspoon victim? …I was at a party the night before, and following the trend, that was when he was killed. Each time, I had been socializing in some way, which means that Tamara and or her moor had been in the vicinity at the same time as myself. It would be helpful if I could remember exactly who was there the first two times. But I don't. So you know what I should do?"

Another rhetorical question, but nonetheless, Riff asked, "What, Sir?"

Cain opened his eyes and looked at his butler. "I should go socialize again. It's been obvious that I am waiting for something to happen, so the killer is waiting. I need to become 'complacent', and he'll follow me out. It would be a chance to catch him in the act."

Cain was a good liar—Riff knew this—but his lies often were indelicate. Cain was a bold person, and when he acted, his 'characters' were often bold themselves. Sometimes Riff wondered whether this was the best way to go about things, as often somebody was bound to get hurt. However, it always ended up being the right way. It could both delight and frustrate Riff that only Cain was able to pull this sort of thing off so perfectly.

"A fifteen-year-old is capable of cruelty…"

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Riff said. "I was thinking aloud."

"About what?"

After a moment of thought, he said, "I'm not sure about this…it's more of a bad feeling than anything. But Elsie—"

"You mean that girl," Cain said.

Riff smiled slightly. "Yes, that girl," he confirmed. "She knew about the poison on the knife. She claims she heard it from a hall boy, but…there are other things."

"Like how she leaned around you to open the door."

"And she was in the ironing room, where she didn't belong at all. Scullery maids also work in the kitchen. The lower staff eat separately from the upper staff, especially when there are guests in the house."

"Bartholomew Throckmorton implied that the killer is a man," Cain said. "But he has no idea who it is, or he would have told me. He's assuming that women aren't capable of cold-blooded murder."

"On the contrary…"

"Women aren't as brash as men, so they may think the process through more thoroughly."

Riff and Cain's eyes met for a long moment, and Cain smiled. "Riff, I think we're getting somewhere."

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The feeling the staff and residents had of the still before the storm was well founded. In fact, it was the same night as Riff and Cain's epiphany that a new victim was found. It was another woman, this time found in a park, through which Mrs. Nelson cut on the way back from the market. And instead of calling the police, like any normal citizen, she went straight to tell her master.

Riff watched as Cain leaned over the body. There was a corkscrew driven in through the temple, and blood dried in her hair and on the side of her face.

"Look," Cain said, pointing to her hands. Around the wrists were deep purple bruises. "She was tied up. Of course, it would take time to get this into her skull so efficiently, and they couldn't have her struggling. She was probably also gagged. But there are no signs of either the ropes, nor the gag."

The young earl looked up at Riff. "They couldn't have done this in the park," Riff said. "Too much of a chance of getting caught."

"Of course not," Cain said. "They'd need somewhere private. But instead of leaving her where they killed her, or dumping her in the Thames, they moved her here."

"To what purpose?"

There was a silence as Cain thought for a moment. "They wanted her to be found," he said at last. "There is no other reason why she should be moved to a park. All the victims were of low class, too. Maybe a warning?"

Riff shook his head. "The person who is killing is in the house. They must know that Mrs. Nelson cuts through the park. Everybody knows she does."

"They wanted her, specifically to find her. They knew that through her, everyone else in the house would know and see. This is for one of us. Maybe for myself. Riff, I think it's time we took a closer look at that girl's actions in the past few weeks. People would remember her being where she shouldn't have been, no?"

"I hold onto the schedules I organize. I should look to see if that hall boy really was in your room at the time, too."

Cain nodded. "Let's go tell the police. It's against the law not to report a murder, right?"

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Notes: Sorry I've been gone for so long. I've been getting readjusted to school, so it pretty much works that I get up at six, out the door at seven, and since my hours have changed so drastically, I'm exhausted by nine. As a result, I am getting less and less creative. But never fear! I fully intend to finish, no matter how long it takes!

Um…I made it a little hard again. But really, there should only be a few more chapters. But yes, this is the end of Wine. Happy School Days! (blegh…)

EternalSailorSolarWind – I think the thing about Shakespeare plays is that you have to see it done by people that really know how to read it. You eventually get into the flow of the language, and it's much more interesting (when you choose the right one, that is).

Hatori Soma – this is actually my first mystery. So I'm trying very hard to keep it a mystery.