Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update. I'd like to thank the lovely BrynnBookWorm399 for help with this chapter, and for making my day with her kind words. Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter, and again, thank you Brynn!

J...

Who was J? A former lover? A good friend? I looked down at the letters again, gingerly placing the letters onto the unfurled ribbon. The poetic words echoed in my head, and I pulled my knees to my chest. We had found a murderer, but the final elusive piece of the puzzle was still missing.

It was just out of my reach. One of those things that you can feel your fingertips just brushing

I sorted through the letters again, another time, and again, once more. Nothing substantial. Just that single initial. J. It could stand for anything. I was pretty sure that J was a man, but what said initial stood for was a silhouette in the foreground of the whole affair. His motive; Jealousy. His name; J. Whatever in fresh hell the blasted initial stood for.

I clutched the letters to my chest, my breath heavy. My mind was whirling with more questions than I felt possible for one person to wonder. I sighed, and stood up, tying the ribbon (with difficulty) back around the letters, and held them to my chest.

George needed to see this. Badly. He'd have kittens with this new information.

I slung my backpack containing the Skull jar over my shoulder, and looped the chains spread out on the floor into a coil, which I hooked to my belt. Armed with my rapier, I stepped away from the spot I was previously, and placed the letters gingerly in my coat pocket.

The stairway was dark, the pale marble of which it was crafted catching the glow of the moonlight coming from the front windows. It casted shadows in the corners of the stairs, the candles with were placed on the steps circular pinpoints of light. More shadows gathered around where the light could reach no more. I stepped down the stairs with small taps, carful not to stir anything.

"Lucy, that J character sounds sinister."

I shook my head. "No, he seems obsessed. But at the same time, kind of sad. I feel a bit bad for him, to say the least."

"But he's a killer."

"True, but I still would like to know more about him."

I reached the basement door, the moonlit foyer at my back. I opened the door, and stepped inside. There was a dark hallway leading to another door, and I switched on my penlight to aid my vision. I entered the room, and switched the penlight off.

My voice came in a harsh whisper. "George."

Nothing. I stepped forward more, hissing out his name again. "George, I found something you need to see."

I saw a dark shape bend down in the dark, and a candle flashed on. The light of the flame caught the the gleam of his glasses. George stepped forward, gesturing for me to join him in the circle of chains.

"This better be good. I'm bored, and all I've seen is a grey haze and there's a stone knocker a while away. Probably in the wine cellar." He looked even more unpleasant in the dim light, doughy face set into that of sardonic indifference.

I swallowed thickly, and held the letters forward. "I found these under some floorboards."

George took of his glasses, wiping them on his sweater, and then placed them back on. "Let me see then."

He undid the ribbon, sending dust flying once more. I coughed violently again, he just batted the cloud away with a huff. I watched in silence as he sorted through the letters.

The room we were in was frigid, and weak tendrils of ghost fog curled around the recesses of the iron chains. Small, slanted windows were situated at the top of each wall, each were centered. Pale moonlight seeped in, illuminating the room in small portions, giving it an eerie glow. There was little furniture except for an old trunk tucked into the left corner of the room, and the wall opposite the door was lined with canned and dried goods stacked neatly on shelves. The room smelled of these goods, slightly mixed with the smell of dust.

"Lucy..."

"Yes?"

"You are a genius."

"Are you okay? You've never complemented me for as long as we've known each other."

"Well, I am now. Don't take it too seriously."

There was the George I knew.

"This makes so much sense. Whoever J was... J was the one who made the counterfeit papers. To hide that he killed her, or to confuse people about what wound killed her. Either one, but I suppose it was to set his pursuers astray. And it seemed to have worked. No one with the first or last initial 'J' was mentioned in any of the articles I found." He furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

"So J was defiantly who killed Elizabeth?" I inquired.

"Yes. There's no doubt about it. Also, he did mention it in the last letter. Did you read them?"

I stiffened. "Yes. Of course I have. I was the one who found them."

"Well, you did ask me if J was the one who killed Elizabeth. So I assumed you hadn't read them."

"Shut up."

"Ooh, feisty."

"I have half a mind to hit you."

"I dare you."

"George, I've thrown dishes at you. I am not afraid to hit you." To prove my point, I prodded him in the shoulder with my knuckles. Not hard, but enough to make him stumble back a few inches.

He sighed. "Touche."

"So who do you think J was to Elizabeth? A former lover? Childhood friend?"

"I'd have to examine these letters more. And look for connections. Elizabeth's family. I need to know what her life was like before she married Benjamin Anthonyson. Where she lived, what year, who her family was. i need to know more. What kind of person was she?"

"That's probably a good idea, but where on earth are you going to find such information?"

His glasses gleamed in the candlelight, and he grinned. "The archives, of course."

Hey guys! I'm so sorry this took so long to update. I've been drowning in school work and trying to keep my grades up, so I haven't had much time to write. Well, I'm still figuring J out myself, but more of the story behind him will be revealed in time.

Until next time, my mystery loving readers;

~Starry