Okay, just as a safety precaution, I'll put in this disclaimer, since I refer to it once in this chapter. Read my lips! I. Do. Not. Own. CSI.
I also want to give a great big thanks to Yzibella! I've had chapter 4 for a while now and was a little hesitant in posting it. I didn't know if it was my final draft or not. But Yzibella inspired me to post it! And to keep working on the other chapters (I've been a tad busy). So many thanks!
And now! For the fun part! Replies to my beloved reviewers!
yzibella: See! Told ya! I told ya I was a genius! It's just people mistake my genius for something else, like insanity… although I'm not admitting to insanity! Just the genius part. Great guesses! I'm glad someone is throwing their suspicions at me. (Ow! Not so hard!) And as to whether or not you're close, I'm not telling! I can't ruin the entire story for you! That would be just mean!
Shi Rurouni of the Aphrodesiac: Aw! You're making me blush! I'm glad you think so!
ahhelga:Great! The fact that you're into it makes me all warm inside. I'm just glad everyone thinks this is a great idea. Whenever you think you have enough evidence, start making guesses, a'ight? A'ight.
Arein:That's it? Just because they're jealous? Sorry to break it to you but it's a a tad more complicated than that. Just keep guessing, a'ight?
And now, on with the story!
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Chapter 4 - The Ballroom, The Library, And The Dining Room
"It doesn't look like Arthur's here either." Arnold casually look around the room, "Nothing seems to be out of place or strikes me as odd. It looks like another dead end."
Helga nods, "It looks like it."
"Arthur should have shown up be now. I'm getting worried."
Helga raises an eyebrow, grinning slightly, "You're just now getting worried about him?"
His hardly laugh echoes in the large Ballroom, "Yes, well, I know Arthur can take care of himself. I have no doubt about that." Arnold's laugh soon fades, "I just wish we could finish with this silly hunt of ours. It's getting quite boring huh?" His smile dims into seriousness, "And besides, I have very important business I need to attend to. I was hoping that our visit with Mr. Body was going to be quick. It appears to be really the opposite."
Helga frowns in puzzlement, "What business?"
Arnold looks over to her, as if for the first time noticing she was there, then walks to a large chair on one side of the room, sitting on it. Helga sits next to him in another chair, still curious as to what he meant. "You're going to find out eventually, so I might as well tell you now. My important appointment is somewhat in ties with a possible motive for killing Arthur."
Helga raises an eyebrow in curiosity, "Go on."
Sighing, he stares down at the tiles in the Ballroom, avoiding Helga's gaze, "A few years ago Arthur found out that I was secretly embezzling money from our company to several different accounts in different banks, under false names."
Helga's jaw drops in shock.
"When he found out he immediately confronted me about the situation. I confessed that it was true and when he wanted to turn me into the authorities I begged him not to. I vowed to him that I could change. I told him that if he didn't go to the authorities I would amend my ways, that I hated what I had become. He, being Arthur naturally, believed me. He never went to the police and he didn't lose his partner."
"But you both are millionaires because of your company! Why would you need to embezzle more money?"
Arnold sighs dejectedly, "When I was two, my parents went away on an airplane to a jungle in Africa, to cure a disease. The plane never got there, nor was it ever found." He looks over at Helga, "I have spent every last cent in my name to find them. I don't even have two cents to rub together. I'm poor."
Helga's eyes widen in realization, "That's the possible motive. Because you're poor, the likelihood that you could inherit Arthur's fortune and the rest of the company would more than enough of a reason to kill him."
Arnold nods slowly, "And keep looking for my parents…"
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Flipping on the lights, the large Library illuminates the expansive collection of books along its walls.
"Well, it appears that Arthur's not here either."
Curly nods in agreement, "Yes, I suppose so. Though, I would think that if Arthur had to escape to any of the rooms in the household, it would be the Library. It's his favorite room."
Phoebe nods also, a small smile playing on her lips, "I remember how many hours we've spent in this room, just pouring over the adventures these books contain in their pages."
Curly looks away from the novels to Phoebe, tilting his head slightly, "What I don't understand is how Arthur could possibly think that you would have a motive to kill him, of all people. You both seem so happy together. Why would he think that you would want to kill him?"
Phoebe looks down at the floor, rubbing one arm nervously, "It may be because I confronted him yesterday. That's the only thing I can think of."
Curly's eyebrows pucker in bewilderment, "Confronted him about what?"
She lets out a long sigh before answering, "I think he's cheating on me, with Ms. Scarlet."
Curly's jaw almost drops from surprise, "Cheating on you?! With Ms. Scarlet?! You got to be joking!" Curly shakes his head, "Do you know how much he loves you?! How much he cares about you?! He talks about you nonstop! Why would he cheat on you?!"
Phoebe shakes her head, closing her eyes tightly as if to keep from crying. "I don't know why. All I know is that for the past few months he's been acting strange around me. Being distant. And the only woman I can think Arthur would have relations with is Ms. Scarlet. Helga. She's known him the longest, is always calling for him, that sort of thing." She looks up into Curly's eyes, "I just don't understand why he would do this to me."
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Upon entering the Dining Room, Rhonda Peacock lets out an irritated sigh. "He's not here either. He isn't anywhere in this godforsaken house!" She crosses her arms and turns back to Gerald as he brushes past her into the room. "This is insane! Why are we sitting here, looking for a possible corpse, in a house, with a potential murderer on the loose! We should be calling the police! Or if we find a body, the CSI."
Gerald rolls his eyes as he slowly circles the long table in the middle of the room, randomly pulling out a chair and checking every once and a while. "Believe me, we'll find Arthur. If we survived a war together, he can certainly handle some petty stalker."
Rhonda raises an eyebrow in mild curiosity. slowly circling the table as well. "A war? How interesting." She brushes her fingertips lightly along the top of a chair, in deep thought, "Does that have some sort of tie into your possible motive?"
Gerald almost stops in mid-step, looking up into Rhonda's eyes briefly before tearing his gaze away. "Yes, it does, I suppose…" he lets out a long sigh, "Arthur and I have a dark past behind us, though we've have tried to forget. We were in each other's squad along with a tough army brat named Rose Thorn. We were the best of friends, the three of us. Then, one night, we suddenly were under fire, without warning. We crawled on our knees and elbows through the dirt and the smoke as we tried to fire at the upcoming enemy." He shakes his head tiredly, "He didn't do it on purpose, it was an accident. He… he didn't know that Thorn was in front of us. Arthur thought he was one of the upcoming enemy. He… shot our comrade that day. She died because of Arthur's mistake." He pulls out one of the chairs and plops into it, placing his head on one hand, supporting it, "Our commanding officer never found her, and Arthur and I never told anyone what happened that dark day, until today that is."
Rhonda blinks numbingly at Gerald, gawking, "Arthur… killed someone?!"
Gerald nods his head, "And the worst part is, we never told anyone. All these years and no one knew what really happened." Unknowingly his fists ball up tightly, turning his knuckles white, "And to top it off, Arthur was promoted! That scoundrel killed one of our men, and he was promoted!" He slams his hand on the table, rattling the flower-filled vases, "He didn't deserve that title!" Gerald looks up into Rhonda's horror-filled eyes, "He should have died that night with Thorn."