I'm currently speaking with the butler of the mansion. We're waiting for Randolph's wife, Jennie Jerome, to return. From what I was told, she had been away from the mansion for a few days for work. Then she was informed of Randolph's death and is expected back soon. The butler also provided the list I asked for—apparently, there were six servants on duty last night and, aside from Ethan, they are all right-handed.
"Lady Nathae, may I offer you something to drink while we wait?"
"A tea'll do. A Darjeeling if possible."
"Oh, I can see you know your teas well. We have it—it'll be ready in a moment."
He walks to the kitchen, and I follow him.
"Lady, you can wait on the couch."
"Don't worry. I wanna check a few things in the kitchen."
"As you wish."
The kitchen is big—worthy of a mansion. I notice he opens a box containing hundreds of different teas: Bohea, Darjeeling, Assam, Hyson, Earl Grey, and many more... It's normal for the aristocracy to have such collections. They're a way to show your prestige—I mean, most of these are high-quality and expensive, coming from different countries. You can also show them off every time a guest visits. So more than something you have because you like it, it's something you own because of how it makes you look to others. Also, it's considered embarrassing if someone asks for a specific tea and you don't have it. It might seem stupid, but political battles often start with these minor things.
"Did you, or someone else, ever notice some food missing?"
"No, not that I'm aware of. May I ask why you're asking such a question?"
"I have my reasons to believe someone stole bread recently. Would that be against the rules?"
"Indeed. Especially for us servants—we can only eat in the dining room and at specific times."
"What times?"
"5 to 6 a.m. for breakfast. We eat early so we can start our chores as soon as possible. 2 to 3 p.m. for lunch. We eat after our Lords, and the same goes for dinner, which is from 8:30 to 9:30 p.m. Afterward, we return to finish our chores."
"What chore was Ethan assigned to yesterday after dinner?"
"If I remember correctly, he had to clean the mirrors and then close all the windows."
"Servants' rooms don't have mirrors, right? Ethan's room didn't."
"Correct. We only have the minimum there, but since we only use them to sleep, it's not a problem. We use the bathroom mirrors if we need to."
"That's fair."
So he was skipping chores? They stop eating at 21:30, and Randolph died at 21:43.
"Didn't you think to ask Ethan why he was in his room when he was supposed to be doing chores?"
"Honestly, no. With all the chaos caused by the corpse…"
"Ethan is the one who stole the bread. I found some crumbs on his desk. You finish eating at 21:30… Lord Randolph died at 21:43… Ethan, based on your story, found the corpse. But Ethan had to be in the room earlier, to eat the bread? I'm not sure why, after a full meal, someone would feel the need to steal, breaking the rules and risking punishment just to eat some tasteless bread. I'm missing something for sure."
"Lady… Are you saying Ethan was in the room when the homicide happened?"
"I think it's likely, yes."
"Wouldn't that make him the first suspect?"
"No. He isn't the killer—he's left-handed. I even verified it myself."
"Is there a chance he's ambidextrous?"
"Very small. You see, I confirmed he was left-handed by noticing how he instinctively opens doors—he used his left. If he were ambidextrous, he would've opened it with his right hand like everyone else. He would've mimicked the habit unconsciously. People can't avoid doing that, even if they don't notice. Our actions are influenced by those around us. I'm not excluding the possibility he's ambidextrous, just saying it's unlikely. That said, it just means he's unlikely the killer—there's still an extremely high chance he's involved in the homicide."
"Then… how should we proceed? Lady Nathae, it's in my greatest interest to solve this case. I've lived here for decades, and Lord Randolph and his wife were admirable people… If I can do anything to assist you…"
He's telling the truth. I understand him. It's similar to how I feel about Jack… Even if I abandoned this case, this butler wouldn't.
"I promise you justice will be done. You see, I started to officially work as a detective to shape this city… I'll do all that's in my power to not let this case be unsolved. No… I won't let any case be unsolved."
"Lady Nathae…" He smiles and bows.
The entrance suddenly opens."Where is he?!" Oh, it's the wife.
---
Sob… Sob… "Who did this?! Who could?! Where is the kid?!" She grabs me by the collar and lifts me up against the wall. "Who killed my husband?!"
"I still don't know."
"Why would they even send a kid for a job like this?! Don't they understand how important this is?! Is this some kind of joke?!"
She's derailing… Sigh.
"I understand what you feel, but—"
"No! You don't! You're nothing more than a kid! Don't even joke about this! I loved this man—more than anything in this world—and now he's gone! Who's gonna bring him back to me?! Who?!"
"I lost people I loved too… I really understand how you feel. You want someone to hit… You feel like everything you lived for just crashed before your eyes… You feel lost… You're scared… You want to do the same thing to the killer that was done to your husband… Me too… I want to find the bastard who killed my parents and make him suffer until the end of his days… It's normal… And I'm here to help. I'll find whoever did this and arrest him."
Sob… Sob… She lets me go.
"Please… Lady Nathae…Find the bastard who killed my husband..."
"I promise…"
After this, I leave. She likely needs to stay alone, and I'm an outsider. At least I'm sure she isn't involved. I hate to admit it now, but I also thought of the possibility of her lying about leaving for work just to come back and, with Ethan's help, kill Randolph. Her reaction was genuine, and I don't need any trick to know it. I experienced it too…
---
It's night. I asked permission to stay here under the excuse of continuing my investigation the next day. Of course, that's not the reason. I want to read that diary and open Ethan's wardrobe.
First, I go to the maid's door and I find it open. I enter without making a sound. She seems to be in deep sleep, that's good for me. I check the drawers and eventually find the diary… It's hard to read in the dark… What to do… Mh, lemme see if this works… Where the paper absorbed ink, it's different from where it didn't… right? I start moving my finger across the pages of the diary and read it using my touch to make out the letters. Using this method takes me an unimaginable amount of time. Well, this is interesting. This maid has a relationship with Ethan… but I don't find any relevant connection to the homicide.
"!" Oh… that's not good. I was hearing footsteps in the corridor, but I wasn't bothered since I'm inside this room, I mean, I surely wasn't expecting someone to enter. Unfortunately, the footsteps suddenly stop outside this door. I manage to slip under the bed in time. Someone enters and turns on the light.
It's Ethan.
He closes the door… with his right hand. Wait... Something is going on. Is he really ambidextrous as the butler suggested? Well, at this point… he's the killer. Everything matches. He stole the bread and went to his room, ignoring his chores. Randolph might've wanted to talk to him after not seeing him around, and Ethan killed him, right? But now that I think about it—it's really a weird case. While everything matches, it just doesn't make sense… Killing to avoid getting scolded for stealing bread? I have to think deeper into this, I might still missing clues as well.
For now, the only problem is that as long as they're awake, I can't move from here. I have to wait for Ethan to leave and for her to fall back asleep.
Ethan walks closer to the bed and wakes the maid.
"Iris… Wake up..."
"Mmmm… Ethan… What are you doing here?"
"I missed you… Sorry… I couldn't help it."
"That's fine… Come here… But remember to wake up early to return to your room in time"
I feel the sheets moving. He joins her in the bed.
Wait… No… Please no…
Okay… This is going to be a very long night for me. A very long night...