There wasn't much more he could do about Fred, the poor bastard. No further clues or leads could be found in the room, and Constantine was getting rather done with Alice's suspicions. He didn't blame her for them because he was naturally a suspicious character. That didn't mean he was willing to accept it though.

So he went wandering through the House of Mystery again. Eventually he would draw its attention, and when he did, they were going to resume right where they had left off.

Assuming the House let him, anyways.

As it turned out, when he reached the last place he had felt the House's presence, right before Fred's body had been found, he felt the presence again. "We meet again," he greeted blandly.

Already, he could feel some sort of excitement within the House's presence. "Alright, alright, I know you want the rest of the story," the blond man said, "but we had a deal. Before I give you the rest, you need to hold up to your end of the bargain."

There was a sense of petulance, but he would not be swayed. If he didn't, the House would just pull out one of its countless stories to tell him and he'd be at this all day. He wasn't certain if the House was a story-topper, but why take the risk? Best to nip this in the bud while he could. "Now, now, you know it's only fair. The sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner you get an ending. What say you?"

There was a silence before he felt the House begrudgingly agree.

"No worries, this won't take long at all." Constantine took a moment to roll his head from left to right and back, feeling a couple pops as he relieved some tension in his neck. "All I need you to do is show me to Cain's office."

Initially, nothing happened. It was as if the House was considering his request. Constantine didn't mind, he could wait. Besides, he had the upper hand here. The House wanted to know how his story ended and if it didn't comply, then it would go on without an ending. While most people would be annoyed and shrug it off, he got the feeling the House was more child-like in its temperament and wouldn't stand for such a cliffhanger.

He was proven right when he began to hear a cacophony of sounds. Down the hallway, he could see entire portions of the floor, walls, and ceiling move. The wooden boards that made up the corridor would sink inward, vanishing from sight, which caused the wall at the end of the hallway to draw closer. The sounds these moving boards made grew louder as this wall drew closer. It picked up speed, making the moving boards bang around even louder. It was awfully noised, just so you know. Eventually, the wall stopped a couple meters away from the blond man, who hadn't flinched in the slightest.

Then the boards that made this wall began to move. The ends that touched the ceiling and floor remained in place, but the ends that met in the middle swung backwards and away from Constantine. The lower ones arched downward to the floor, where the floor would spread apart and allow these boards to join them; the ones arching upward to the ceiling met the same fate.

This revealed an entirely new hallway, one with a wooden door presented to him. It was rather unremarkable, fitting in with all of the other doors in this mansion. Constantine walked right up to the door and grabbed the door knob, giving it a twist. It opened, allowing him entry.

He was greeted with the sight of a dark room. Now that just wouldn't do. "How about a little light," he grumbled as he raised a hand up, snapping his fingers once. In response, candles from all over the room lit up. The candlelight revealed a small room, one with a desk up against the far wall, a wooden chair pushed back and turned askew, as if someone had moved it and hadn't placed it back. There was a made bed off in the corner, clearly empty. On the wall opposite the bed, there was a closed door, most likely a closet of some sort.

So this was Cain's office. It was a rather simple place. Looked more like a bedroom, but hey, who was he to judge?

Walking up to the desk, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards, Constantine noticed a couple sheets of paper, a pen laying on top of them. It seemed Cain had been writing something before his untimely passing. With one hand, he pushed the pen aside and picked up the papers, giving them the old once-over. Cain had a rather neat writing style, one that took advantage of the strokes that cursive writing allowed. In this day of digital typing and fonts, it almost seemed archaic. But then, there hadn't been a single piece of technology that he had noticed in this House so far.

Setting the papers down, Constantine got to work. First, he checked the drawers, pulling them open, checking their contents, before sliding them back shut. Then he went to the closet door and opened it, finding it damn near bare. There were a couple pairs of coats, a couple shirts, and a couple pants all on hangers, but aside from that, nothing to write home about. He faintly picked up the hints of a few spells lingering in here, a curious choice, but for now he'd leave them be. He then closed the door before turning around.

His blue eyes fell onto the bed next. While he doubted it, he might as well check under the bed. Walking over to it, he knelt down onto his hands and knees, using one hand to grab the end of the draped bed comforter and raising it up. Peering under the bed, he saw a few dust bunnies, but not much else. Lowering the comforter back, he then stood back up on his feet and began examining the rest of the room.

Alright, where was that bloomin' safe?

"Can I help you with something?" a pointed voice asked.

Constantine slid his eyes over, finding Anita standing in the doorway, a disapproving look on her face. Clearly she had seen him searching the little room, so why hide it?

"Only if you can find me a lead," he grunted to the hostess.

"And what, praytell, makes you think you will find a lead in Cain's office?" she returned the challenge.

"Seems a bit strange that Cain, after overseeing this house for, what, thousands of years?" He paused to eye Anita for confirmation, which she didn't give him. "Thousands of years, and he suddenly ends up dead right before all of this sordid business of ours."

"You think they may be connected?" the white-haired woman questioned.

"Probably not, but it's something worth looking into if only to rule it out," Constantine shrugged. "I could be graspin' at straws right now. Remind me, how did he die?"

"A heart attack," she answered him.

"And where exactly did you find him?"

"He was in the foray. I don't know what he was doing there when he had the heart attack, unfortunately." A grim smile appeared on her face. "That was going to be your next question, yes?"

The blond man nodded. Even if it wasn't true, he might as well agree; he would have been asking that question eventually anyway, so might as well get it out of the way. "It'd be impossible to know what exactly he was doing that caused it, I guess," he shrugged. "Not at least without a memory spell."

"Truly," Anita agreed.

"I can safely say he wasn't doing anything strenuous here." Constantine held a hand out towards the desk. "Cain seemed to be writing something down and stopped in mid-sentence. That's a rather strange place, if you ask me."

"That is strange," the woman acknowledged, a frown appearing on her face. "What was he writing about?"

"As far as I can tell, some fanciful story. It clearly leaves off on a cliffhanger."

"Perhaps that's how he stored the House of Mystery's stories," she suggested.

Constantine raised an eyebrow. "You don't know for certain? I thought you owned this place."

"I do, but I know very little of what Cain did here. He maintained the grounds, making certain the House of Mystery didn't go into complete disrepair. What he did with the rest of his time, I am uncertain. Remember, I have not been in this part of the world for some time."

That was a good point. In fact, no one really knew what Cain did while he stayed here. Jason Blood seemed to have a good inkling, so maybe that was another avenue to check.

By then, Anita had drawn closer to him, coming to a step a couple steps away. "Is there anything else you would like to know about my late-caretaker?" she asked sternly. "If not, I'd rather you not go through his personal effects."

Hmm, it seemed Anita had suspicions about him too, though hers was a lot more on the nose than Alice's. And unlike Alice, he knew Anita had access to some older spells that would be quite unpleasant to experience.

It seemed his time in Cain's office was officially at an end.

The ice cubes rattled in the glass. Detective Chimp raised his trembling hand, holding the glass before his lips before he took a sip. His eyes were glazed over, lost in memory, albeit a memory no one really wished to endure.

Jason watched the detective, taking note of every line of grief in his face. He and Fred had been with each other for a long time. They were practically a packaged set. Fred had been the chimpanzee's caretaker since he was a baby, nursing him, caring for him, allowing him to solve crimes and mysteries that baffled local police. It must have been quite a shock to the system when the detective first spoke words in front of the man.

It was quite clear Detective Chimp cared for him. Unfortunately, his grieving process could not come at a worse possible time. It was becoming readily apparent that the Enchantress was quite intelligent. As Zatanna had mentioned, Fred had no magical powers that would make him one of her usual victims. With that as a frame, it made no sense why the middle-aged caretaker would be targeted.

Seeing this though, it became readily apparent that Fred wasn't the true target, but Detective Chimp. The chimpanzee was traumatized by seeing his handler in such a state. It removed his brilliant mind as a resource for them, crippling their investigation efforts.

That was the true reason behind Enchantress' attack, wasn't it? She wanted to weaken them, which would make it easier for her to pick them off. Detective Chimp was wallowing in sorrow; June Moone was an emotional wreck if the look on her face had been anything to go by. Zatanna was helping to calm her down even now. And then there was Alice, Detective Chimp's assistant.

She already had her sights set on a suspect, which he could not fault her for. Constantine's late arrival certainly cast suspicion on him. Jason rather doubted the con man was responsible, however. Say what you wanted about Constantine, but he…

Jason paused. He was quite familiar with John Constantine. He was very much an ends-justify-the-means person. If he felt Enchantress killing Fred was the way to achieve their ultimate goal, he would let her do it, possibly even convince the hag to do so.

Perhaps Alice was onto something.

The aged man shook his head. No, this was entirely Enchantress' doing. She was responsible for this, including the doubt that was beginning to fester within their ranks. While it was certainly worth questioning how the hag had found them here, there were only so many possibilities, the damnedest one being that one of them informed her. It wouldn't be long before the others came to that same conclusion too, which would only further divide them.

Those were troubling thoughts for another troubling time. Right now, he needed to help Detective Chimp sort through his grief. If they were going to succeed, they needed his mind.

"I know what you're going to say," Detective Chimp spoke then, breaking Jason out of his thoughts. The redhead was standing over by the fireplace, an arm resting on the mantle. This allowed his body to stand at an angle, one that gave him a view of the chimp sitting on the couch. "That I am needed to help avenge Fred's death."

"I would say nothing of the sort," Jason countered. He drew his arm off of the mantle and walked over to the couches, sitting on the one opposite his comrade. "You have suffered a great loss. I would never trivialize your grief in such a manner."

A thin-lipped smile appeared on the detective's face. He raised his glass up, the tremors in his hand noticeably less. He took a sip of his drink before lowering down to his side. "I've known Fred ever since I was nursing. That is quite a long time."

"It is," Jason acknowledged.

"It is a curious thing. I saw him as a parent, or at least what my kind views as a parent. I knew he would care for me if I needed it, even after my mother ended her nursing and tried to show me how to be a monkey." He chuckled bitterly, taking another sip of his drink. "If only she could see me now."

"I know we are acquaintances at best," the redhead began, "but I respected Fred very much. He was a humble man that did not ask for much. He was quite content with his life."

"A kind way to say he lacked ambition and accepted his lot in life," the chimp grumbled. "You would not be wrong, however."

"I don't mean to offend you or speak ill of your friend."

Detective Chimp shrugged his shoulders before he drained the rest of his drink, the ice cubes rattling in the glass when he lowered it. "Then get me another one in way of apology." He even held out the glass, the melting ice cubes remaining. He didn't look in the redhead's direction through, just stuck his arm out expectantly.

Jason accepted the glass and stood up, heading to the alcohol cart. He set the glass down and picked up one of the decanters, pulling off the top and pouring the liquor contained within it. He did two finger lengths before capping the decanter. He then picked up another glass and set it down. Picking up another decanter, Jason poured himself a drink, doing the same two fingers. Once satisfied, he picked up both glasses and returned to the couches, retaking his seat as he held out his colleague's glass to him.

Detective Chimp accepted it, leaning forward to do so. Jason held up his own glass, an offering for a toss. "To Fred," he simply said.

"To Fred," Detective Chimp agreed, the two clinking their glasses together. They then leaned back in their seats and took sips.

"I would not fault you for being unable to continue," Jason then said as he lowered his glass, feeling the burn of the liquor in his throat. "This is a difficult time for you."

"It is," the chimp acknowledged. "It is a sickening feeling, twisting and turning, slowly becoming numb. Perhaps that is what the alcohol is doing, not that I'm complaining." He paused. "I cannot fathom waking in the morning without him being there. I will be hungover and he should be there with my hangover cure, chiding me for overdoing it yet again. Frankly, I'm dreading not seeing that."

The redhead kept his eyes on him. He could see a slight tremble in the primate's lips. He was trying to put on a brave face, but his emotions were slowly leaking out.

"Continue to use me as you need," the man said. "I am here for you."

"Fred could have used you earlier. He could have used me." There was a dimming in the chimp's eyes. "He…he did not deserve this fate."

"No, he did not."

Detective Chimp's hand clenched the glass tightly. "I…need to find this hag. She cannot think she can get away with this." His tone had dropped, anger suddenly pouring out. "She will atone for what she has done."

"And I will assist you in that endeavor," Jason assured him. "Whenever you are ready."

"Whenever I am ready?" the chimp echoed. "Once I have finished with my liquid courage, perhaps. Maybe after another. I feel like I will be needing it."

Where is he? Where is he?

Zatanna stormed through the hallways. Yes, that's right, stormed. Because she was a woman on a mission.

There was something rotten going on in this House of Mystery. All this time she was being fed story after story of perfect horror movie material, and then this weird house decides to drop a bombshell with an actual true story. And not just any story either, but the demise of its former caretaker.

At least, she assumed it was all true. Stories could be fabricated if not exaggerated. The House could have taken what their group had been speaking of, and tied it to Cain's sudden death. It could very well be that the House wanted to feel included, thus spun the true story and gave a made-up reason for it. That could very well be possible.

So a part of her wanted to prove this definitely right or wrong. She wasn't an investigator or detective by nature, but even she knew she needed to find proof. So, she needed to get herself someone that was inclined to do such things.

Detective Chimp was out as an option, for obvious reasons. The dark-haired woman wasn't entirely sure the little monkey would be up for such a thing, not that she could blame him. Jason Blood didn't strike her as someone that got his hands literally dirty; the same could be said about Anita. June was comatose at the moment, for better or worse—probably better since she was about to have a panic-induced meltdown. No way was she going to ask Alice about it either; the girl just gave her the creeps. She also didn't like her, as grade-school petty as that sounded.

Which left just one person she could ask.

"Seriously, where the hell are you?" Zatanna grumbled. Of all the times she wanted to find John Constantine, naturally he chose that moment to make it difficult to find him. If only she could somehow teleport herself right to him.

The magician came to a stop, blinking her eyes owlishly. Wait, she could do that! What the hell was she doing walking around and searching for him? She was a literal spell away from being right next to him!

She could feel the House's presence in her head then. It felt as if it were giving her a "duh" impression. Great, even the strange, spooky house knew how to search smarter, not harder. What did that say about her?

That question really didn't need an answer, just so you know.

"Alright, you have to forgive me, you know, because you dropped a bombshell of a secret," she muttered. "It's not every day you find out something nefarious is going on in the background in the mystery you're involved in. I'm sure you wouldn't understand."

There was a moment's pause. "Oh right, you know every twist ending to every story conceivable. My bad."

A pause. "And no, I do not want to hear a story about that!"

The House felt as if it were grumbling in her head, which was alright. The last thing she needed was to get distracted, not when she needed to find a partner-in-crime. Alright, so which teleportation spell should she use? Clearly one that had Constantine specified in it, that went without saying. Would the weirdness of the House of Mystery interfere with the spell? No, she felt like that wasn't an issue. It hadn't been when Alice showed off her arcane abilities, so why would it interfere with her?

Faintly, she heard a sound, or rather a voice. Zatanna stopped her ruminations as she listened. Was someone close by?

Walking further down the hallway, she met up with an intersection, one she peeked her head around. Further down the hallway, she saw part of a body sticking out from a doorway. She couldn't tell who it was, not from this angle, but she got the impression whoever it was was speaking to someone else. In fact, she heard a second voice.

Venturing closer, she eventually discovered it was Anita Soulfeeda, and she was standing in a doorway, her full attention on whatever was in the room. The dark-haired woman closed in on the older one, hearing more and more what was being said.

"Perhaps that's how he stored the House of Mystery's stories," she said to whomever she was speaking to.

"You don't know for certain?" a deeper voice questioned. "I thought you owned this place."

Zatanna perked her head up at this. Hey, she knew that voice too! That was Constantine! Just the man she was looking for! So much for using a teleportation spell! Sometimes, the old-fashioned method of looking around was all that was needed.

Even if a teleportation spell would have saved her some time. Hmmm…

"I do," Anita responded. "But I know very little of what Cain did here. He maintained the grounds, making certain the House of Mystery didn't go into complete disrepair. What he did with the rest of his time, I am uncertain. Remember, I have not been in this part of the world for some time."

The older woman then took a step into the room, which allowed Zatanna to peer through the doorway. Yep, there was Constantine, and he was standing in some sort of room, an office maybe? A bedroom perhaps, since she did see a bed. Anita had closed the distance between her and Constantine at that moment. "Is there anything else you would like to know about my late-caretaker?" she asked sternly. "If not, I'd rather you not go through his personal effects."

Zatanna raised an eyebrow. What was Constantine doing here? Going through a dead man's stuff? It was clear Anita wasn't too happy about that considering her tone. Well, perhaps she could help defuse the situation.

"There you are!" she announced as she stepped into the room. This caused the two mages to look towards her, Anita with a startled look, and Constantine with a dumbfounded one. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Might have to be a bit more specific on who, love," the blond man grunted back.

Zatanna swept by the owner of the House of Mystery, her hands reaching out and grabbing onto Constantine's arm. "You, I'm afraid," she responded. "There's something you and I need to speak about…in private…alone…"

Though she was clearly trying to give this guy an out, it seemed his mind wasn't keeping up if the blank look on his face was any indication. Now that just wouldn't do. So the dark-haired woman made a show of looking around her. "What is this place, anyways?"

"Cain's office," Anita supplied her. "A place neither of you should be at the moment."

Zatanna's eyes darted over to a desk, where she saw a few sheets of paper and a pen. The pen looked exactly like the one Cain had been using in the House's story. Great, more proof of it being true. "Well, I can see when I'm not wanted. Let me take this big oaf out of here and you can lock up. Sound good?"

Without waiting for a response, Zatanna pulled Constantine with her, leading him out of the room. She couldn't help but feel like the white-haired woman really didn't want them in there, and this was the perfect excuse to get Constantine away. That, and she had the feeling if she told Anita what the House had told her, it would only upset her more. There were plenty of upset people here already, so they didn't really need another one at the moment.

"Not that I don't mind spendin' time with a beauty, but why the pullin'?" the blond man asked as they got further down the hallway.

Reaching the intersection, Zatanna entered it before she let go of the guy's arm, continuing to walk. "Clearly there was something going on between you two and I wanted to defuse it as quickly as possible. Now, what were you doing in Cain's office?"

"Doing a little investigatin'," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Investigating what?"

"Nothing as it turns out. Didn't find much of anythin'."

How disappointing. "Well, I need your help, as it turns out."

"Help with what?" Constantine raised an arm up and scratched his head with one hand. "It's a little too early for me to do another tantra spell."

The dark-haired woman paused, her face starting to redden from a blush. "That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about," she sputtered back.

"Oh? Then what could you want to do with a bloke like me?"

"I was wondering if you were up for digging up a grave."

Constantine came to a stop in the hallway, staring at her bewilderedly. "You want me to what now?"

Zatanna turned to fully face the man. "I just got told a story by the House a little white ago."

The blond man raised an eyebrow at her. "Careful there. Not all of the House's stories should be believed. That's why they're called stories."

"Just shut up and listen," she snapped back. "I was just told a story about Cain. I saw him working in that office of his before he went to answer the door. He was attacked."

A frown appeared on the man's face. "You mean physically attacked? Or that's where he suffered his heart attack?"

"Probably both, but more like the physical one. I know it's entirely possible the House is getting creative and made up a reason for Cain dying, but it feels too plausible, ya know? I just want to rule out if it's true or not."

"And you came to me, why?"

"Because the others aren't going to like it and you strike me as a man that likes to get to the bottom of things."

Constantine pondered that response. "Well, I've got nothin' else better to do and diggin' up a grave isn't the worst thing I've done."

Great, she had her partner-in-crime. Zatanna paused then. "What do you mean it isn't the worst thing you've done?"