Author's Note:- Thanks to all of you have read and reviewed the story. This is the climax of the story. As many of you might already have guessed, with the end of the camp nearing, it is time for the revelation! Lots of suspense has followed through the story and I would like to round it up nicely. Enjoy reading!

Story So Far:- With the discovery of an e-mail and a diary entry, Nancy comes to know that it was Jenny Willin who had murdered her sister, Ariana Willin. But that's not the end to the mysteries. Nancy still has a lot of questions to answer and a limited amount of time. What was it about the knife that had been cut off from the end of the diary? What about Jenny Willin's murder? And the rock-climbing sabotage? The questions need to be answered soon before the bus rolls out!

Chapter 11: Startled and A Confession

Less than a day. That's the first thought that hit me when I heard the alarm. I had less than a day to solve the mystery. There was no way I would be able to do anything once the bus rolled out from here.

I went out to breakfast because I was expected to but, to be honest, I had no appetite. George placed a plate of food in front of me and I moodily picked at it, but for all that it mattered, I could be eating rubber.

After Bess and George went off towards the logs, I tried to call dad but the network was fluctuating. I remembered how George had got better network near the cliff and I made my way there.

The network was considerably better there. I tried to call dad again, but this time I found his phone to be switched off. I satisfied myself with a super-long text message.

I looked at the cliff. The place where all of this mystery had started. It was peaceful here. It would make a nice place for thinking things through.

I sat down to consult my notes. I looked through all the points one by one. The last point caught my attention. Jennifer Lincer. Hmm...I wondered what was written in the rest of the cutting. Maybe Google would know.

I sat down comfortably at the edge of the cliff, maintaining a considerable distance from those deadly rocks. It would have been a perfect spot for relaxation had there not been those rocks and the memories associated with the place looming over me.

Sighing, I looked up Jennifer Lincer on Google. Uh-oh,too many results. I altered the search words adding 'hijack' as an afterthought. I found the news I was looking for. There were several articles having the similar news but I didn't find the article I had previously read.

Suddenly, one website caused a shiver down my spine. It had Jennifer Lincer's authentic photo attached to it. I had only caught a glimpse of the thumbnail of the picture but I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as the webpage loaded slowly. Oh! Network issues are the worst deal I could get.

One look at the picture made me realise the cause of my unease. I was so shocked that I literally flung the phone away, I was shaking so badly. I had seen this picture, and recently.

I pounced on the phone even before it had touched the ground. I typed at a wild speed, George would have been proud of it. I needed that exact article and I needed it now.

I could barely breathe when I found it and it started loading. There it was, "Sources report that the four hostages who were killed were a married couple..."

"What?!" I screamed out of shock. Really, if there were any more surprises today, I was surely going to faint. There was just so much I could take.

Still, I needed to verify this first. I looked up the married man's name on Facebook, the first place I could think of. There was no mistaking it anymore. That it was the same person was no doubt. He had posted a picture on the same day mentioning that he was about to board the same flight which had been hijacked a couple hours later. Same with his wife's account.

As I scrolled down the pictures, I took a dry gulp. This couple who had been held hostages and later killed, they were, they were...Michael's parents, Mr. Albert Snear and Mrs. Anna Snear.

And the picture of Jennifer Lincer, which had been attached to the article. I had seen it in Jenny's room. In the last drawer I checked. No, not a picture of Jenny. Jennifer Lincer hadn't shortened her name. I wouldn't have been so startled had that been the case. No, it was Ariana's picture. The framed one I had seen. There was no question of the two pictures looking similar to each other. Both the pictures were identical to the last pixel.

I fumbled in my pocket for Mr. Derek's card. I found it and I was right. I had slid it into my pocket just after a brief glance. This time I saw it clearly.

Mr. Derek Lincer

I recalled him saying, My father inherited a house in the next town while his brother inherited this plot. His brother. That meant the sisters had the same surname as Mr. Derek. They were Lincers, not Willins.

Probably they had changed their names after their lifetime of criminal activities, hijacks, contract killings and god knows what else.

That meant the estate was on their father's side not their mother's side, like Mr. Gordon had said.

What was written on the inside of the front cover of Jenny's diary? BL. I was sure now that the L stood for Lincer and B must have stood for her first name. If I remembered correctly then there was no mention of either of their names in the e-mail. Neither had Derek mentioned their names in conversation.

Also, I remembered, Mr. Derek had said that he would later call and inform 'Jen'. At that time I had thought it to be short for Jenny, but hadn't I later found Ariana, I mean Jennifer, on the call? That meant 'Jen' was short for Jennifer. I hadn't thought about it back then, but now it all made sense.

And what had Mr. Gordon said, This is the Lincer Estate my child, the Lincer Estate. It had sounded weird but I never thought he was giving a hint. He obviously knew about this name-change game which was going on. He might even be paid to spread the fake news about the maternal inheritance among the campers.

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I looked again at a picture uploaded in Mrs. Snear's Facebook page. I looked at Michael's smiling face. Jennifer Lincer was the root of the cause behind his parent's death. I remembered his shocked face when he saw the residents of the bungalow on the day of the rock-climbing. Soon after that, his and John's seats were empty. Had they gone to plan the sabotage incident? That means...that means he never really lost his memory. That he has just been pretending all along.

Now that I thought about it, it could be possible. Michael Snear was strong and yes, he was indeed towards the top of the cliff. Bess, George and I were so busy considering suspicious people, that we had given Michael a clean chit without thinking about it twice.

But now, more and more instances were piling up as I thought about it. Michael was definitely strong enough to lift up Jenny's unconscious body. Hadn't I seen his strong and fast rowing?

Hadn't he been claiming to have had no memory for the last six months? And I had seen pictures of their tours, which at least were genuine. I remembered what Sara had said; I returned to America, after a full one year, I barely had any contact with anybody here. She and Michael were merely acquaintances, yet it was Michael, not John, who had acknowledged her greeting meaning he remembered her clearly. It was idiotic to not notice it back then.

Even yesterday morning, when he mentioned a story with reference to the fire, he quickly covered it up with the mention of a medicine. That's what he has been doing for the last one week. Every time, he made a false step, sometimes he, sometimes John would devise cover-ups, be it mood swings or feeble excuses, they always had something ready in stock.

I remembered what John had said about Michael having his dinner in his tent on the night of the first murder and later on the next night as well. Again, another cover-up story. He must have crossed the barricades.

The morning when the first murder was discovered, John took time before answering the questions about Michael's memory loss. No doubt, he was just taking time to frame the answers.

Later the same morning, Jenny was asking for a private chat with Michael. That meant she must have spotted him the night she was out to murder her sister. Michael must have scarpered on knowing Jenny's presence, leaving behind his knife in the process. That was what Jenny had mentioned in her diary entry. Fear of getting exposed must have driven Michael to the bungalow for the second time. He had never planned this murder. All he had wanted was to kill his parent's murderer, but Jenny might have landed him in trouble, so she had to be removed. His first plan of sabotaging the rock-climbing rope was an indirect attempt at killing but luck really hadn't favoured him.

Michael must have come across the diary entry and when he did, he decided to cut off his mention with a knife.

The knife! Its repeated appearance wasn't a mystery anymore. Michael's parents had indeed been brutally killed- their throats had been slit open...with a knife.

Realisation after realisation crashed upon me. All these instances spread over the last week resurfaced in my memory.

The chances of anybody realising that Ariana Willin and Jennifer Lincer were the same person, was slim to none. For one thing, hardly anybody had seen her picture on the web. I, for one, don't even remember hearing about the existence of such a picture till now. And honestly, who was going to remember a picture they had seen once, maybe twice. What was more; she had spent a major part of her time in these deserted hills. Honestly, I would be surprised if anybody within a 2-mile radius has even heard of the hijack news.

My next decision was made in a heartbeat: I had to go to Michael and John's tent, to confirm my theory.

As I walked into the camp, I noticed Bess and George sitting at their patented spot: the logs. I considered telling them to join me but decided against it. Something told me that this was a conversation I had to carry out alone.

On nearing the tent, I remembered else. The newspaper cutting, which we had found had been lying right around here. I had seen John coming out from his tent and cast a searching glance all around. Obviously they had been carrying the newspaper cutting with them and John had been searching for it. All these facts had been staring me in the face, and I hadn't bothered about any of them.

I peeped through the slit at the tent's mouth. But for John and Michael, the tent was empty. Perfect. I walked in without asking for permission. Both John and Michael turned to look at me.

Michael was standing towards the back of the tent facing the entrance with his hands in his pockets probably chatting with John, who was packing up his rucksack which he had kept on a baby folding chair. It was really a plastic chair which was small and could be folded and carried around easily in a bag.

I had a good look at the folding chair for the first time. It solved another mystery, the mystery of the footstool. Michael had surely used this to elevate himself while hanging Jenny's body by the neck.

"Hey Nancy, anything we can do for you?" John asked with a smile but his smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. He exchanged a glance with his best friend. A glance that indicated a quick decision. My accusatory glance had told them what my purpose for coming here was. "So you have figured it out right?" Michael asked. He gave a hollow sort of laugh, "its not surprising Nancy, given all my mistakes and slip-of-tongues," his face paled.

"I just want to know everything in detail," I said. To tally my assumptions I thought.

"Ok Nancy," Michael said as he and John squatted on the ground, "We will cooperate. John, why don't you start? I will pick up the train of events half-way along," he said sipping on some water.

Following suit, I joined them on the ground, half-excited and half-worried about what I was going to hear.

John took a deep breath and started slowly, "Mike and I had been close friends ever since we were toddlers in kindergarten. He was like a second son to my parents and I was a second son to his parents. My family was devastated when his parents passed away and as for me, I felt broken," his voice shook and he struggled to get a hold on his emotions.

After a few seconds, he started in a carefully controlled voice, "Mike was traumatized. He refused to meet anybody except me. He was thirsty for revenge. It was then that we came up with the idea of spreading the rumour that his trauma had permanently damaged his memory. It would be the ideal scenario. After all, a boy with no memory of his past would only attract sympathy, not suspicion. Nobody, not even my parents were told the truth," he grimaced and looked at me with eyes filled with sorrow.

"I told mom and dad that I was going with Mike on a rehabilitation tour. Dad bore all the expenses. Everywhere we went, we told everyone the same story. You know, the one we told at River Heights about someone funding his college expenses that one. Michael wanted to find the head of the hijacks, Jennifer Lincer, and kill her," he sighed, "of course, I could never think of deserting him."

"John had done for me than any friend ever does," Michael said, "Had it not been for him, I would never have got this for convincingly. You see, I am not so smooth at making up stories on the spur of the moment. That's John's department. He can make anybody believe almost anything," Michael said.

He continued, "We had been to plenty of places in America already. I had never expected to find anything on this camp. This was a brief respite of sorts for us," Michael cast a glance towards John, "Of course I recognised her immediately. I literally throve on that picture of her I had found online for the last six months."

He then narrated how all the events had occurred. How his initial plan was to sever the rope because he however, he planned to sneak out before the barricades were set up. How he spent hours at the pond which was the safest place he could find. That explains the footprints. How utterly horrified he was on realising Jenny's presence.

How he had never wanted to kill her but fear of exposure got the better of him how he had chanced upon a spare length of rope and chosen it as the best course of action. How he carried the folding chair all the way to the bungalow on prior planning how he was so extremely foolish to bring it back with him. He even showed me the bottle of chloroform he had used. Having finished, he looked down at his lap with the air of a defeated person.

John added in a dry voice, "His trauma did affect his emotional balance; you know he would start stammering at odd times. His anxiety and worry kept escalating all these days and it was after a long time yesterday that he was relieved of all burdens."

Michael said," I had anticipated that you would find out,"he smiled, "It doesn't matter what sentence they give me, I have had my revenge finally. I can at least die in peace."

Author's Note:- So, how was it? Was it shocking? Or was it predictable? Or did it looked too far-fetched at first and gradually seemed logical as Nancy recalled all the hints that were dropped? I would really like to know your opinion on the story.

Actually, ever since I first thought up the plot, I have read and reread it so many times that it seems pretty ordinary to me now. I don't know if anybody else has felt the same, but I did.

Though Nancy knows the whole story now, I would still post another chapter to round up things nicely, tying up all the loose ends. After all, we still want to know what fate awaits Michael, right?

Typing courtesy:- Anjuna