A/N- Yay! Got the next chapter here for ya lovely people! Enjoy!
Reviews:
STG96: Lol, Basil certainly got lucky there! And yup, Erin's got a dangerous road ahead of her XD
A cold-blooded murderer killed Father… Killed…
How could it have come to this? I am having a difficult time wrapping my head around this and penning it down. I grieve silently yet feel as mechanical as a watch going through the motions of every ticking minute. I need answers. Now. Something is amiss, and I do not care what it takes to peel open the answers. Life or death, Father needs justice just like every victim does. Some may call me crazy for what I'm doing, but seeking closure is never crazy. I will not rest until my father's murderer is found and gets what they deserve.
I will not let anyone thwart my sleuthing or train of thought, not even Basil of Baker Street.
— The Diary of Erin Ravencroft
~ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII ~
Chapter III: Down Pressure Lane
Four Days Later
It was early morning, and Erin usually prepped breakfast around that hour, but she was not up and about. Hiram was not irked and knew why she wasn't. It had only been a few days since her father's demise, and the known factor kept on shadowing her every step, often distracting her.
Hiram could see through the marble mask she often wore. She was still trying to cope, trying to piece together what she and no one else could figure out in her father's case. It had all been pelted at her like stones, unforeseeable. The toy maker understood the pain of losing someone, and it was not a walk in the park. The balm to that was lots of time and support from others.
The tea kettle whistled out a tendril of steam from the spout, and Hiram went to remove it from the stove. He poured the kettle's contents into a porcelain cup, steeped it, and then went to deliver it to Erin's room. Erin would likely need it on Olivia's special day today.
Erin had stayed up late, and she dozed off at her desk. She breathed softly in her sleep as her upper body was sprawled prone on the surface cluttered with her items, paperwork, newspaper articles, et cetera. She was so spent that she didn't even realize a half hour passed her usual work time.
A soft rapping at the door came, followed by the door creaking open. "Erin?"
Erin jolted awake. Her head swam with the clinging lull of sleep, still dazed despite the morning rays blaring through the window.
"Good heavens, have you been up all night?"
Tunneling her fingers through her mane, Erin swallowed down a groan building up in her throat. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, knots taking residence in her back. Finally, she managed to penetrate the thick fog that had clouded her senses since she awoke, only to realize that Hiram was standing at the threshold of her room, concern etching his features.
Eyes bulged, Erin scraped back her chair and shot to her feet, for it dawned upon her that she had overslept. "Hiram, I apologize for not being up earlier," she said, penitence injected into her words. "I will quickly get dressed and–"
"It's okay, Erin," Hiram assured her. "Please, don't apologize." He brandished his hand to Erin's chair, gesticulating for her to sit back down before setting a cup of tea at her desk. "To start your morning."
Reluctantly, Erin plopped back down in her seat. She hardly looked presentable with her messy side braid and the lilac nightgown she was garbed in, and Hiram either didn't notice or didn't care. Whatever the case, Erin would rather he didn't bring it up. It was bad enough as it was that she was late, and all because she had been up all night doing some essential things.
Erin plucked up the China cup. "Thank you." She took a sip of her tea, and the flavor and heat awakened her senses more.
Hiram nodded, his gaze poring over Erin's desk and the wall it pressed against, which was laden with valuable information. Some were even scribbled with perfectly solved mathematics. "I'm assuming these were the culprits that kept you up all night?"
"You would assume correctly, I'm afraid…"
It was no secret what she had been doing for the past few days when she wasn't working for the Flavershams'. With her mother too grief-stricken, Erin had to take over funeral preparations for her father, and the process was as painful as knowing her father was murdered. Everyone had their way of grieving, but the frustration toward her mother kept on mounting. Couldn't she at least try to take part in the funeral arrangements? While Erin was working her tail off, Nancy was cooped up at home all day, disconnected from life.
As promised, Lorcan helped out in whatever way he could, whether it be checking on Nancy, providing input for funeral arrangements, or doing other tasks. He would dive right into them without a second thought, even when he had his shifts at the docks. Erin couldn't have been more thankful to him.
What she had been primarily working on, though, was her father's case. To say that it had been a piece of cheesecake would be an absolute lie. Erin had been sleuthing for the past few days but seemed to be getting nowhere. While she had some clues and information worth looking into, something appeared to be missing within her web of findings. Something that could crack this case wide open.
Erin had spoken with most of her father's coworkers and directors, trying to pry all the information she could get out of them as far as her father was concerned. Most of their answers weren't much help, though—it significantly didn't help when a lot of them were getting rankled by her persistent badgering since she was a 'woman who needed to leave it to the men and it was not her job' as a few of them put it, which Erin took umbrage to—and most of them were about much the same. Her father clocked in and helped carry and load cargo onto and out of ships. Someone had to have known something. This was just not adding up at all.
Erin suspected a few mice while she was querying her father's coworkers. One of them was once in jail for a few years for thievery and attempted murder, the second one had a gambling issue, and there were rumors he once even placed a bet on his daughter's… purity. The man would gamble anything if only to earn some extra cash for alcohol and likely even drugs and often got into lots of trouble for the violence he caused. For the last mouse, no one could say for sure if it was true, but some say that he was in the black market for a side hustle, and his intentions were always enigmatic. How these men even had a job at the docks in the first place or weren't fired was beyond Erin.
All she knew was that she had to keep digging deeper.
"And how has it been going?" Hiram questioned out of mere curiosity and regard.
A sigh spilled out of Erin's lips. "It has been a slow and irregular process," she conceded, sipping her tea. "Though I have information to go off of, it's just not enough. I need more if I'm to solve my father's case. Not everyone has been helpful as of late, and the bobbies have barely done any investigating themselves."
A ball of vexation and fatigue twined themselves in her chest, tunneling to the very core of her being. What was her saving grace was the amount of tranquil and demure bleeding into her system that she had left. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Nothing seemed to come together in the reality of her cognition. What was right and wrong? Why did things have to be more cumbersome than they had to be? Erin was dancing near the spiraling staircase of insanity.
A few days ago, when Erin, her mother, and Lorcan woke up the next morning to discuss what to do, Nancy had suggested that maybe they should seek Basil's help, but Erin immediately shut that down with a firm no. Never would she do such a thing. Erin did not give a crumpled crumpet that Basil was the Greatest Mouse Detective. If she gave in and allowed him the satisfaction of assisting her in this case, that was the definition of giving away her dignity. Memories tied more to someone than even a paltry offer could.
Another sigh came out of Erin. "I'm sorry, Hiram. I do not wish to spoil the mood today with my melancholy and aggravation. Not even on Olivia's birthday today."
There was truth to what she said. It was Olivia's special day today, not hers, and yet here Erin was, internally sulking while trying to think of the best ways to dissect her investigation further to the root of it all.
"Please don't think I find your situation a nuisance," Hiram scolded her gently. "I understand what you are going through, and so does Olivia. Do not think you are alone in this." He allowed that to sink into Erin before pressing on. "I have an idea: Take a reprieve for today."
At that, Erin immediately shook her head. "I couldn't possibly do that. There is so much that needs to get done, like getting Olivia ready for the day, running errands–"
"Do not worry about any of that; I will take care of it." A benevolent smile reached Hiram's face. "The only thing I request of you is that you take care of your head and heart and make it to Olivia's birthday."
Erin was not one for taking the day off work. The only times she did was for holidays and special occasions, which was only for half the days. She would sometimes take a lunch break or something, but other than that, breaks were not part of her vocabulary. Erin needed to do something with her hands. Otherwise, she got antsy.
Albeit, Hiram's gaze exuded an insistence with a level of care, and Erin found her heart squeezing at that. How could she say no to him? Let alone her boss? Besides, it was not like she could even deny his request. Whether she liked it or not, it was clear she was to take a proper reprieve for the day.
Erin begrudgingly agreed to take a respite before celebrating Olivia's birthday with Hiram, and the first thing she did was have a messenger boy deliver a telegram to a friend of hers. She had invited this friend of hers to her favorite café for brunch, and it didn't take long for the messenger boy to return with a reply. To Erin's satisfaction, her friend was happy to come.
She picked her way down the streets, taking her usual route to the café while skirting other mice and dodging the large feet of humans that could easily squash her like a blackberry. The human world was very alien compared to the world that was practically under their noses, and yet what they possessed, the mice and other critter citizens had congruent ones—most of the time, anyway. Sheer luck or not, the humans never seem to realize the concealed activity happening around them. It was better that way, though, for a human learning of any of this was just a can of disaster waiting to be opened.
Eventually, the café came into Erin's line of sight, and it was as you would've imagined. A small, cute little business serving delectable sustenance to gorge on and all the caffeine you could imagine. A sign was displayed out front of the shop with these exact words: Sweet Bean Café. It had a very friendly atmosphere, and anyone was welcome to come in as long as they didn't stir up trouble.
Erin switched her handbag into her other hand and gracefully crossed over to the café like a swan with no falters in her steps. The skirts of her favorite blue dress, which had black sashes, whispered silently around her footwear like the wind, light and easy to move in. A white collar cinched around her neck, a yellow broach centered in a silver case at her throat, and, as usual, her pearl earrings adorned her shell-shaped ears while her hair was in a tight bun, a couple of tendrils flowing freely.
Erin soon approached the door and swung it open, stepping inside. The tiny bell overhead signaled her arrival, and the warm, mouth-watering aroma of caffeine and sustenance drifted into her olfactory system, tempting her to throw away what money she had. Plush seats and very polished tables—most bathed in sunlight—were scattered throughout the café, customers occupying a few of them, and conversations bubbled out of almost everyone's throats. At the same time, the employees there busted their tails off, receiving what tips they could receive, waiting for their shift to end while time slowly trickled away.
Dusting off her dress, Erin glided to one of the empty tables for two and took a seat, waiting for her friend to arrive. Within a few minutes, the bell tinkled, and in came a powder white mouse with large blue irises and simple makeup painting her features. She was clothed in a light blue V-shaped bodice, a purple skirt, a mulberry with a bronze broach, and high heels the same color as her bodice. A pretty blue bow also sat on her head, and everything about her was what any man would covet to have.
Her eyes flitted over the café a few times until they suddenly collided with Erin's. She waved, a smile lifting her lips. "Erin, darling," she said with preamble, her heels clicking against the floor as she guided herself to the table.
Erin stood upon seeing her friend and the two wrapped their arms around each other. "Kitty, I'm glad you could make it," Erin spoke, meaning her words. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you and your sisters have to rehearse for your show today."
"Of course, I wouldn't dream of not coming for my dear friend. Besides, our coordinations have been ingrained into our minds, so I'm sure nothing will go wrong during the show later tonight." The two pulled away, and Kitty took her rightful seat across from Erin. Right as she did, a waitress approached them with a notepad.
"Hello, welcome to Sweet Bean Café," she said in a cheery, professional tone. "What can I get you ladies?"
"Ah, yes, I will take some green tea, and I think we will both also have a basket of your best biscuits with a side of gooseberry jam," Kitty answered.
Erin nodded in agreement. "I will also have some green tea, thank you."
The waitress jotted down their orders. "We will have that out for you."
Once the waitress was out of sight, Kitty's gaze landed on Erin. "How have you been doing? I know the last few days have not been treating you well."
Erin swallowed past the lump in her throat, weaving her fingers together and resting them against her chin. "I am managing, I suppose," she admitted with little to no enthusiasm. "I cannot say, though, it's been getting any better."
Understanding and sympathy found their way into Kitty's irises. "Tell me what has been happening."
Erin gladly did so and started by saying, "Ever since my father's demise, it has been one stressful thing after another. I have been dealing with so much while my mother has barely lifted a finger. Lorcan has assisted when he can, and I am grateful to him, but with my mother hardly partaking in anything, things are more difficult for me than they should be. On top of that, there is also work and my father's case." A silent sigh escaped her. "So, as you would imagine, balancing all of this has not been an easy feat."
"I would say weighing down on you would be a better way to put it. You have been putting in so much work and effort these past few days, and I am actually glad Mr. Flaversham gave you the reprieve you need. You've needed it since your father…" Kitty cleared her throat. "You haven't been able to grieve and register all of this properly, and overworking yourself will certainly not make it any better for you."
Erin's lips melted together, for her friend was right but didn't admit it out loud.
Kitty searched Erin's face as if trying to read her mind. "Is your mother still locked up in the house?"
At the mention of her mother, irritation flared under Erin's hide. "Hasn't once left it," she confirmed. "I believe she forgets that she is not the only one who lost someone, and not once has she thought to contribute in some way or even ask how I have been feeling."
"Have you talked to her about it?" Kitty queried.
"Believe me, I do want to; I just haven't found the time to confront her about it. Since Mr. Flaversham has given me a reprieve, I plan to do that after I run an errand."
Erin didn't expect anything good to come out of it, but when did her conversations with her mother ever go well? Not only would she confront her mother, but she also promised Hiram that she would speak to her about dropping by the toyshop to celebrate Olivia's birthday. With Nancy being a friend of his, it was only natural that Hiram was worried about her.
"By now, you can tell how strained my relationship with my mother has been for most of my life—it doesn't take a microscope to examine it further. Her behavior from the past has been one of the few reasons I have thought of severing ties with her, but the only reason I hadn't was because of my father. He was what kept the family from falling apart, but with him now gone? Well… need I say more?"
Erin involuntarily wrung her fingers, a vise squeezing in her chest. If there was something that she had come to learn the past few days, it was that the murder of someone could set even worse things into motion.
"It is understandable you have been going through a tough time lately," her friend got out right as the waitress returned with their orders. After she deposited them on the table, told them to enjoy, and scurried away, Kitty slid her China cup and saucer closer to herself. "But what is not understandable is your mother choosing to distance herself, especially from you."
Erin aimlessly stirred her tea. "Well, this is my mother we are speaking of. I've sort of expected this much from her." Deciding to steer away from the subject, the dark gray mouse then said, "I have something to show you." She opened her handbag and produced some paperwork, laying them flat on the table before Kitty. "These are what I've gathered and deduced from my sleuthing. However, something just doesn't seem right with all that I have. I feel like I am missing something."
Kitty scooped up the paperwork and scrutinized them, musing. "You have been going about this very carefully and thoroughly, judging from what I'm looking over," she acknowledged, sifting through the following paper. "You even went as far as to write down mathematics calculations and percentages."
"It has not been an easy process, though." Erin took a small sip of her green tea before forging on. "According to the constable that broke the news to me of my father's murder, he was stabbed in the back, and his throat was slit."
Erin didn't miss the way Kitty's face went wan, and most would have the same reaction when it came to how someone was killed, so it was not surprising to her. Just thinking of the night she looked down on her father's mangled body had her stomach churning.
"In other words, my father's murderer left his body there to rot, and they left nothing behind that would help with the investigation. This leads me to believe that they didn't kill my father to loot from him—they intended to do the deed."
Kitty glanced up at her. "What drew you to that conclusion?"
"Regarding the crime rate in London, the percentage typically leans more towards pilfering, and nothing of my father's was stolen. Even a desperate thief wouldn't want to waste an opportunity for better clothing. The killer was waiting for the right opportunity to strike."
Kitty's mien scrunched up in consideration and puzzlement. "Who would ever want your father dead, though?"
"That is what I am trying to figure out," Erin avowed, then went through the list of the three men she suspected likely were the killer and stated why and even pointed to the list she gave to her friend for added emphasis. "...even with these suspects I have listed, though, there is no guarantee to prove that it's one of them unless I manage to collect more evidence."
Kitty listened with rapt interest and regard. "Have you presented any of this to the bobbies?" she probed.
Erin emitted a sigh, having a feeling she would have eventually brought it up. "The short answer is I have." There was a pregnant pause as she then went to sip her tea. "I don't think you need to surmise how that went."
Her friend's lips pursed, likely biting back a grumble. "Of course…"
When Erin migrated to Scotland Yard to voice her findings and concerns, the constables she spoke with merely brushed her off and told her to leave it to them since it was their job and not a delicate flower's. She had huffed in offense, eyes narrowed. Yes, it was their job, but as far as she was concerned, she had not received any news as far as gleaning for clues, and such went for her father's case. Erin was doing most of the work while the bobbies on the case were doing heaven knows what.
They were failing her. How can they call themselves bobbies if they can't do their jobs right? For shame.
It wasn't just the constables or some of the witnesses, though. It was the fact that some citizens still barely held any ounce of respect for what women put out nowadays. This was a war Erin had to go through each day as she tried to secure a job as a mathematics teacher, and now, with her combing for more evidence to root out the murderer and have him behind bars, the fuel was added to that said war.
"I could always take what I have to a detective, but what I question is if I seek out one, would they listen to a woman with perception and a level head or one that flounders and dabs at her teary face?" Erin imparted.
She helped herself to a biscuit, splitting it in half and adding a layer of jam to one of the halves. Erin didn't have much of an appetite, but even she knew she couldn't go through the day feeling lightheaded. She took a small bite of her biscuit, which was a little cold from still sitting out, but the fluffiness of it and the sweet, tart flavor of the jam were still something to be enjoyed.
"It should not matter, be it the former or latter," Kitty responded, letting out a weighted sigh. "But alas, everyone has an image in mind for everyone in society and how they should act. Even a tiny thing different is considered unorthodox."
That was the truth, and neither could float away from it. You either rub elbows with those who already fit in with society or stick out like a bent nail in the floorboard. With Erin having the same views as Kitty, it was no surprise the duo clicked and became immediate friends.
"You mentioned at one point that you were once associated with one of the detectives—Basil of Baker Street, was it?"
Hearing that name immediately had Erin's tongue soaked in bitterness. "Unfortunately," she uttered.
Kitty lifted her porcelain cup, intrigue gracing her countenance. "You don't talk much about him, but if I'm reading you correctly, something happened between you two that left you feeling sour towards him."
Those words hung between them as Erin went to take a sip of her tea. It was right on the nose. Kitty was a lot more percipient than she looked, and as a performer, most saw her as just a pretty face—mostly the men—and that was basically about it. However, Erin saw her for who she was, and that was in a positive light.
The dark gray mouse drummed her fingers against her China cup, staring off into space as memories of her time with Basil dredged up in her mind's eye. "And you would not be wrong." A few heartbeats passed, but she finally had it in her to plow ahead. "We were childhood friends, and all I can say is that when we were teenagers, that's when our relationship was axed." Erin scrunched her eyes briefly as if that would blot out what happened between her and Basil. "I'm sorry, Kitty. It's something I don't like to talk about. When I'm ready, I will explain further."
"Say no more," Kitty said in a soothing voice. "I won't press the issue with you any further. Just promise me you will eventually tell me when you are ready."
Erin nodded. "You have my word." She finally took another sip of her tea, but that was when Basil's words from a few nights ago came rushing back into her head, almost a distant echo. "Do you think what I am doing is foolish?"
"Absolutely not." Kitty patted Erin's hand gingerly. "You want your father's case to be solved, and you have come this far with what you have while the constables on the case are dilly-dallying. Do not let anyone make you think otherwise, but be careful, Erin. London is not as safe as it used to be, and anything unexpected can pounce at you."
Just like what happened to my father, Erin thought with knowing. This would indeed be risky, but that would not make her back down. She would proceed with what she started and keep her wits about her. She would keep on pushing with that worn cloak of mettle.
"Don't worry, I will," Erin said, putting her friend's brief worry to rest and taking another sip of her tea. "If anything, though, the murderer should watch out for me."
Later, after having brunch with Kitty, Erin ran the errand—getting groceries for her mother—before hitching a ride on a human carriage to her childhood home. Her ride soon came to a halt near the street her home was on, and she quickly gathered up the groceries and her handbag and hopped off the foot pedestal she was sitting on before any of the humans noticed her. Soon, she was traipsing to the front door of her childhood home, unlocked it with the spare key hidden under the mat outside, and swung it open. It was all dark inside.
"Mother?" Erin called out, shutting the door behind her with her foot.
Silence permeated the air.
Of course… Erin wryly thought but proceeded to the kitchen. "Hiram gave me a reprieve for the day, and I went to get groceries. I'm just going to put them away now."
There was still no answer, but Erin knew her mother had heard her. After taking care of the groceries, she checked on her mother, only to find her sitting on the settee in the parlor, zoning out as she stared at the wall. Nancy had barely eaten lately and looked enervated, her cheeks becoming gaunt. She'd waste food Erin bought or worked tirelessly on to make but yet had time to get dressed and coat her face with makeup.
That peeved Erin very much.
She cleared her throat to get her mother's attention. "Hiram wanted me to ask you if you would like to stop by the toyshop later to celebrate Olivia's birthday with us. It would be a good excuse for you to finally get out of the house."
There were a few moments of silence, but finally, Nancy craned her neck, her jaded, blue-gray irises settling on Erin. "I will pass," she bluntly said, returning her gaze to the wall.
Something inside her shifted just from the aloofness her mother displayed. Erin had to put up with her for the past few days, and the pent-up anger she had toward her suddenly fractured, licking at her hide like flames.
"Would it kill you to think of anything besides yourself?!" Erin snapped, slicing through the reverie Nancy was in. "I lost father as you lost him, but while I've been working to the bone as a nanny, making funeral arrangements, and doing other things, all you can do is isolate yourself in the house all day and allow your health to deteriorate, not once thinking to consider doing something to help out!"
Erin's raised tone towards her stupefied Nancy, but she eventually shook out of it and pushed to her feet, a flinty expression passing over her countenance. "I am trying to recover, Erin!" Nancy parried. "Do not make this harder than it has to be!"
"The only person here making this harder than it has to be is you! I am trying to recover, too, but at least I am not allowing grievance to rule me and have me in the house! Do not try to turn this around on me! I speak the truth!"
"Erin, do not start acting like a–"
"Of course, this is the only time you decide to react—just to berate me and act like the victim here!" The words began pouring out all at once from Erin, tears threatening to well up. "You are truly selfish! You don't know when to shut your trap, and your actions are no better! And you wonder why I would prefer not to follow in your footsteps!"
A hint of emotion flashed across Nancy's eyes: Undecipherable to Erin. As fast as it came, it went. "What would your father say…?" Was the only thing to come out of her mother.
Erin's heart panged, her throat as dry as cotton. At times like this, her father usually would've stepped in to dowse the words being grilled between her and her mother before things got out of hand… But he no longer would be doing that. And now here they were, mother and daughter, spitting flames at each other with nothing to pacify them at that moment.
"My opinion?" Erin finally spoke. "He would tell you to act as a mother should and stop putting so much expectation and pressure on me because you're only going to lose me in the end."
Those exact words hung over them, and Erin didn't wait for a reaction or an answer, for she marched her way out of the house with her handbag and slammed the door behind her.
Nancy winced after her daughter shut the door with such force, yet all she could do was stand there. Erin's words were like a pummel to her stomach—hard but true. She was relieved Lorcan was not there to witness what happened and was still on his shift at the docks.
Everything came undone in her chest, and her knees then gave out, tears springing to her eyes. Sobs wracked her body, her hands plastered over her face. Everything kept getting worse, and she lost sight of what to do. Erin's words did it for her.
Tomás… why did you have to go?! Nancy screamed internally. Why did you have to work that day?! If you hadn't, this never would have happened! …I wish you were still here…
Nancy kept crying her heart out alone with wishful thinking, riddled with guilt and misery. First, she lost Tomás, and now it appeared she was about to lose her only daughter, too… What had she done? Nancy only had herself to blame, even if she tried to convince herself otherwise.