A/N: Good morning, everybody! Where I am it's currently 8:55... and raining. November weather has really just struck all of a sudden! October was a mix between warm and just a bit chilly, but suddenly, in November, it's freezing and always raining! I suppose that's what I should expect from this time of year, though...

My wig arrived! It's actually very soft, which I didn't expect, and I have a wig cap to go with it. Also, I have my green contact lenses sorted... it's just the dress that I'm waiting for, which really blows, and I'm not even sure it'll arrive... Ah, well- what happens, will happen.

Without further ado, the next chapter of The Musical Massacre!

Chapter 21

The venue was a hotel Yao had passed many days in his life. It was an expensive place, somewhere only the rich had access to. It only made sense that Roderich Edelstein would rent this place out for the finishing celebration party for his first concert.

The entrance was that of a palace. White marble floors reflected the thousands of individual lights that created the chandelier above their heads. Interwoven into the pale stone floors was a swirl of black, a chic pattern that held elements of a modern style. There was no rug, so that those who entered could hear the pricey tap of their shoes on marble. Three people sat at the desk, all dressed in pristine waistcoats; most of the staff wore well-known brands of watches and jewellery that Yao could only dream of owning. His worth was miniscule in comparison to the vast amounts of wealth that had been funded into the making of this hotel, staff included.

"Mr Bonnefoy," a man hurried up to them. "Please; allow me to take your coat."

Francis smiled and shrugged the warm attire away from his shoulders, handing it to the man. "Thank you."

"And…" the man glanced at Yao, suddenly lost.

"Yao Wang," he said politely, but also firmly.

"Would you like me to take your coat?" the man asked, suddenly embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, aru," he was fine wearing his coat; wherever he went, the coat followed.

"Are you cold, Sir?" the man insisted. "Would you like me to speak with the maintenance staff and raise the heating a little?"

"No, I'm honestly fine, aru," Yao nodded.

"Perhaps you would like-"

"We're fine," Francis placed a hand on Yao's shoulder and guided him along.

Flustered, Yao allowed himself to be pushed towards the lift, where Francis pressed the next button upwards – the first floor.

"You evidently haven't had that before," Francis noted.

"In case you hadn't noticed, money isn't streaming out of my pockets, aru," Yao puffed out his cheeks – money was a sensitive topic.

"I wasn't making a statement; nothing like that," Francis held up his hand. "I'm terribly sorry if I've offended you."

"Uh, well... not at all... aru...," Yao was relieved when the elevator released them from the confined space. Francis wore strong cologne, and the undertones of cigarette smoke lingered.

Francis led the way, striding down the hallway. He had elegant legs, thin yet lean. His entire countenance was so much more sophisticated in comparison to Yao. Both he and Roderich had a certain fluidity to them, which made Yao wonder if all the super-rich had some kind of conduct code to act graceful. However, his mind turned to Giuliano, who was more charming rather than smooth. Perhaps Roderich and Francis were merely of a new generation of rich, and their modernisation of the lifestyle was to act like poetic romantics of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries? Yao wasn't sure, but that was how they came across to him.

"A lot of people will be having breakfast at this time," Francis said, pausing before a door, and Yao checked his watch, amazed at how late the rich awoke. "I want to warn you now; you'll be meeting a lot of very important people here."

"What's that meant to mean, aru?" Yao asked, wondering why Francis had adopted a mentoring role.

"That you network," Francis smiled. "You might here about crimes that occur in the gutter areas of cities, but some of the most meticulous murders happen amongst the landed classes – we get vicious when things go wrong for us."

Before he was able to reply, Francis swung open the door to reveal a dining room of great splendour. There were countless numbers of buffet tables, but waiters also hurried around, serving freshly cooked food. He could see pancakes and waffles getting made on the spot, pastries, salads, simple toast with condiments, bread rolls, sausages sizzling, eggs spitting and crackling as they fried, tomatoes giving off a rich aroma as they sat in the pans. The venue had considered those who preferred breakfasts familiar to their own customs; hams and cheese were laid out for those who wanted a lighter meal, compared to fat dumplings that made Yao's mouth water. Beans had been prepared to accompany the traditional English Breakfast, and he could see mushrooms frying away in their preparation.

Not to mention the drinks! Milk was provided, as were hot beverages – he could see a range of teas and coffees waiting to be consumed. Juices and smoothies awaited the masses, and he was fairly sure he could see trays of micheladas and strabellinis.

"Help yourself to something whilst you're here," Francis' fingers danced along his shoulder in parting. "I like an early breakfast, so I've already eaten, but do enjoy the food; dining with others is a perfect opportunity to get to know other people. I'll find Roderich."

He flitted away, disappearing past a couple of waiters. Yao stood, amazed that he was amongst this community. His mother had always held ideals of standing with people like these, but never would she have been able to guess her son would instantly be able to mingle through his humble career as a private investigator. Attracted like a moth to the light, he found himself hovering amongst the buffet carts. His hands located a tray and plate, and one food led to another – and another – and… another. Yao had never seen so much food in his entire life. The incredible amounts these people ate made him want to achieve his goal of wealth and stand amongst them as an equal, rather than a mere associate.

A tap on his shoulder brought him round to see none other than Mayor Jones himself. It had been months since he'd last spoken to him.

"Yao Wang?" he grinned. "It's really you. You know, I saw the back of your head, and I was thinking – damn, that guy looks familiar – but I never expected it to actually be you!"

"It's me, aru," he nodded.

"Hey, hey, whilst we're here, I need to ask," Mayor Jones placed a hand on his shoulder and looked around the dining hall. "How's the… you know… search going?"

Yao frowned and thought back to two weeks , when he'd been roof jumping. He had never reported back.

"Cold at the moment, but that doesn't mean I'm not looking," he said, staring straight ahead.

"Shame," the mayor sighed, leaning away, coffee in hand. "But, you know, Yao, you ever find something, report back to me. I like to be in the know about these kinds of things."

"Of course, aru," Yao nodded.

"Great," he lifted the coffee. "I'll see ya. Raging night last night, but I gotta be back at the office soon."

Yao watched him go, before turning his attention to the pancakes he'd also wanted to amass alongside the rest of his food. He heaved the tray up, and approached the drinks table when a waitress hurried to his side.

"Allow me," she said, taking the tray from his hands.

To his amazement, the waitress remained by his side, carrying the tray for him. He rather liked this positive treatment. With a smile, he got himself a green tea and looked around the dining hall for Francis. There was no sight of him, but that mattered very little, because Elizabeta happened upon the coffee machine, and saw him along the way.

"Yao!" she beamed. "What are you doing here? It's a shame you couldn't be at the party last night. I was telling everyone about how hard you've been working."

"Everyone?" he worried about the Mayor and whatever he may have heard.

"Well, of course," she said. "You've been of excellent help to myself and Roderich. And to think we'd never heard of you before! It was actually Mayor Jones who mentioned you."

Yao felt his heart sink. For a moment, he thought they had found him by chance. It seemed everyone blabbed about their cases nowadays.

"He was the one who suggested you when we discovered about Niklas," she admitted. "I don't know how the pair of you met, but it seems Alfred was right about you, Detective Wang; you work very hard compared to some other people on this planet, that's for sure."

He swallowed, noting how the waitress was hovering nearby, still carrying his heavy tray.

"I do digress, though," she smiled, green eyes bright. "What brought you here?"

"More like 'who'," he laughed nervously. "Francis took me here, aru. Coincidentally, I actually wanted to speak to you about the night of Niklas' death."

Elizabeta paused, her smile faltering a little, but she nodded and leant against the nearest table. "Yes… You did want to say something last night, didn't you?"

Yao nodded and set his green tea aside. "I want to know the locations of both you and your fiancé the night Niklas died."

"At his sixtieth birthday party," she replied. "We both stayed until the very end."

"Neither of you left in between?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Is that it?"

Yao frowned. "I guess so, aru. Are you sure you never left the party? That Roderich was there the entire time?"

"I understand what you mean," she sighed. "I also understand that's it's very frustrating when no one can give a direct answer. However, listen to me when I say that I never left the building until the party ended, and Roderich was there until the end."

"OK, but one more thing," he said, noting she was eager to get away. "Does Roderich usually polish the gun you keep framed in the living room?"

Elizabeta paused, eyes searching the ground. "I…"

Yao waited patiently.

She straightened up and looked him in the eye. "I'm sure he does, otherwise it would get filthy. Besides, that gun has family history."

"I thought you said it wouldn't get dusty if it was in the case," Yao lifted his beverage and sipped his tea. "I don't really know much about ornamental preservation, but I can see where you were coming from, aru."

"I'm sure a case doesn't keep everything off," she swallowed, averting her gaze. "I don't know, Detective Wang… Roderich has been so upset over his father's death that he hasn't been quite the same. That was why I was so glad he got back into the music. He absolutely adores the piano, so when he stopped after his father's death, I thought that was the end."

"I apologise if I've upset you, aru," Yao dipped his head. "You've been very helpful, thank you."

Elizabeta's jaw, which had been tense, suddenly relaxed and her gaze softened. "I'm glad you understand how stressful it's been. How about you sit with us? I guess you could ask Roderich any questions."

"I think I'm done with the detective work right now," he nodded, grateful, and followed in the direction she pointed him towards.

A sea of faces laughed and chattered at the tables. Yao was still impressed that he was in the same room as the elites. He could see, in the distance, Roderich's head of dark hair and Francis sitting across from him. The Frenchman's cornflower blue eyes lit up and he waved towards him. Yao walked over, seeing Roderich turn in the seat. He showed no emotion – neither negative or positive – which Yao strongly believed was a good sign. He seated himself beside Francis.

"Hello, Detective Wang," Roderich said politely.

"Good to see you again," Yao said, picking up his knife and fork as the waitress finally relieved herself of the heavy food tray. "The concert last night was good, by the way, aru."

Yao proceeded to tuck into his meal. He had seen a flash of relief in Roderich's eyes, the other clearly thankful that questioning wasn't on Yao's mind. He had received the information he'd wanted from Elizabeta. For now, he could be content with what the couple had provided him.

Yao walked himself home. Although Francis offered, he lied about making several detours around the city that would make company pointless. Once he'd been alone, Yao had been able to recollect his thoughts. With purpose, his feet had carried him straight back to the Honda Ramen Bar. It was his friend's advice that he desperately needed in this current state.

It was the lunch hour, yet the snow meant business was moderately low, even at this time. Kiku seemed relatively at ease, so Yao swung into one of the bar stools with a frown.

"I'll have my usual, aru," he beamed.

"Of course," Kiku set about to preparing his usual ramen. "How was your trip to the music theatre?"

"I actually met a guy there who knew them and was at some party with them last night," Yao said. "He knew they were at some venue and I was able to speak with Elizabeta – she told me enough, aru."

"Any questions?" Kiku asked.

"Roderich was at the party at the end," Yao rubbed his chin. "Francis – the guy I met – could support that. However, that doesn't mean he couldn't have followed his father to the music theatre and disposed of him then."

"Where was Niklas' final birthday held?" Kiku asked.

"You know, I'm not sure," Yao frowned.

"You should look into that and if you hear a timing that doesn't quite match, then you can pick someone up on that," Kiku said. "You can also use it to measure whether Roderich could've driven to the music theatre, then back in time to hang out with this Francis for the last moments of the party. Assume they're in conversation for around half an hour."

Yao nodded. "Well, there's also this gun at Edelstein's house."

"What kind of gun?" Kiku asked.

"Some kind of pistol," Yao said. "I haven't had time to look at it closely, aru. However, Roderich said he polished it the other day, and Elizabeta was unsure about that; they had some contrasting information."

"Does he even have bullets for the gun?" Kiku glanced at him. "If he's polishing it, it's either in use or ornamental."

"He said it was a decoration, a family thing, and it was framed," Yao theorised. "I'm not sure."

"I understand," Kiku boiled the noodles. "I can see why that's suspicious… And what about Francis? How is he linked to the clients?"

"He's a friend of Roderich's," Yao pondered. "So, I guess he isn't so reliable when it comes to vouching for Roderich… However, he did see Niklas as a father."

"Does that not add ammunition for Roderich?" Kiku asked casually.

"Ammunition?" Yao frowned.

"A jealous son?" Kiku glanced at him. "If he wanted his father to notice him for his music, only to find his parental affections went elsewhere, would he be driven to committing murder?"

Yao froze on his seat and stared into space.

"Does Francis have any relations?" Kiku asked. "Perhaps you could get a third person perspective on Francis' life…"

"OK…" Yao said. "The plot thickens, aru. I'll look into those. Hopefully the snow may clear a little more. I feel a little handicapped when I'm restricted to only the city."

"This is your opportunity to get to know Francis more," Kiku said. "I assume you don't know his personal address. Maybe find things out about him?"

Yao nodded again, as Kiku placed a ramen bowl before him. Slurping in the noodles, he contemplated what his friend meant. Seek out those connected with Francis? This was some proper personal work, things Mei tended to be better at, but Yao was prepared to do as much as he could despite the weather. However, he didn't want to appear strange. If he could discover the venue of Niklas Edelstein's final birthday, he would be able to roughly calculate the distance between it and the music theatre. Francis would have to wait for now.

He did not need Roderich to find the venue. That would be simple enough. He could speak with the receptionist in the music theatre, who was just as likely to know where Niklas' sixtieth birthday had taken place. Slurping down the last of his ramen, he paid and swung away from his chair. He absolutely stuffed to capacity, having non-stop ate all day.

"Good luck," Kiku called after him.

"Thanks, aru," he said, halfway out the door.

Stepping back into the cold, he trudged through the snow towards the music theatre. He felt like he was going backwards and forwards relatively frequently today, but with his restricted location, there was very little he could do about that. He picked his way past the city, and noted that more roads had been salted as the day progressed. He guessed cars would be back on the roads by tomorrow. He reached the theatre and approached the doors, pushing them open and leaving a trail of snow as he walked inside.

The receptionist raised her head and noticed him once more. "Mr Edelstein hasn't passed through here, I'm afraid."

"I saw Mr Edelstein, aru," Yao said. "So, don't worry about contacting him. I'd actually like to ask you a quick question."

She looked momentarily worried, but set down her pen and nodded, looking at him attentively.

"Where was Niklas Edelstein's sixtieth birthday held?" he asked.

Relief passed over her face. "That would be the nearest Hokuo Hall. It's really very impressive…"

"How far away from here would you say this 'Hokuo Hall' is, aru?" Yao asked.

"Not far," she shook her head. "About half an hour – maybe a little more if there was traffic."

"Thanks," Yao nodded, branching away.

As soon as he was out of the building, he called Lei.

"Hey?" the young man sounded as indolent as ever.

"I need you to review the footage, aru," Yao said.

"I don't have it, you do, at Kiku's house," Lei snapped. "I downloaded everything onto the main computer, remember? Geez, it's under a folder literally named footage in a folder named Niklas Edelstein."

"Thanks, aru," he replied.

"Thanks for waking me up, ass," Lei hung up abruptly.

"Good morning to you, too," Yao muttered, as he headed back home.

Kiku seemed surprised to see him as he reappeared. "Did it go well?"

"Yeah, I think someone could've slipped away from the party in the middle, and have been back at the end without anyway knowing," Yao nodded. "Niklas was killed at one-thirty – after all the preparation and second murder, they could've been back at the venue by two-thirty."

"Does this secure your leads?" Kiku asked.

"I don't know," Yao moved to the back door. "I need to review the footage again…"

A/N: But what will Yao find!? Until next time, and thank you for all of your support! Feel free to leave a review; I love replying and seeing what people think of what I've written! Bye bye!