Chapter 8
“You have a confession?” I echoed. It was not
meant to sound like a question. I heard Jasper say something, but I was not
sure if I heard him right. He looked down at the cigarette case in his hands momentarily
deep in thought.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
Finally, he looked at me. “We have a problem.”
“All right,” I inquired.
“Before I took up the Tiller case, I was
working on another case that is completely unrelated – at the time it was not
pressing. However,” he gave me a guilty look, “it appears the previous case also
demands my attention.” With those words he brought out his notebook.
“I want you to finish the Tiller case in my
stead.”
“What? Now?” I was not sure I was hearing it
right.
“That would be ideal –” he suggested, but I cut
in.
“But, this is –”
“It is sudden. Yes, I am very aware of that.
However, something has come up that I cannot be at two places at once and this
is where I would need someone to represent me.”
“But this is not good, Jasper. You are my
employer and this case should be yours to finish.”
“The other case is urgent and it is out of
town.”
“Surely you cannot just up and leave right
away?” I did not want him to leave me stranded with this case we were working
together and I was still not making any sense of.
“I will be leaving Oxen Basin tomorrow evening
and from then, it will be only for a couple of days – who knows, you may be
able to solve the case by then.”
“Tomorrow?” But
that is too soon! I did not want to work on this case alone, especially
with a lot of pieces missing, not to mention the fact that I had next to no
experience in investigating.
“How about we finish solving this case together
as soon as possible and leave together!”
He stopped and turned at my suggestion.
“Did I just hear you right, that you want to
come with me on this other case?”
“I understand this would mean that you would
have to stay a bit longer, however the fact of the matter is I do not have the
experience you have in this line of work. I would much prefer if you stay and
finish this case before we move on to the next one.”
“We?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, we!”
I then added, “Surely, you weren’t suggesting that this other case you are so
eager to look into has a deadline.”
“Well –”
“Then take me with you!” If Jasper was being
his spontaneous self, I guess I will take that chance in having him leave town
with me in tow. “After we finish this case! No, wait! You said you have to
leave the city tomorrow. That won’t work! Surely there is a way to make this
work!”
He looked at me for a moment and burst out
laughing, “You are serious, aren’t
you?”
“I am and with a job that has expectation of
solving the case and laying some ghosts to rest, I would be even more so. We
did agree to take the diamond case along with the Tiller murder and we are
responsible to finish them both.”
He gave me a crooked smile, though his eyes had
some reluctance. “I’m glad someone has some sense. You are right. We did agree
to take these cases and we will finish them.”
I relaxed. “So, that means you are staying and
we will finish the Tiller case together?”
“Indeed we shall do that.”
Relieved, I smiled. “So, where shall we begin?”
“Let’s finish the Tiller murder. I believe
there is a connection to the dwarven diamonds if we start digging deeper.”
We were back in our meeting room comparing what
we had found so far.
“Tell me what you have found,” Jasper said as
he sat in a wooden chair next to the desk we had near the blackboard.
“Well,” I began, “What I have are of what we
already know.”
So I went over my notes starting with the
Tillers: both Gavin and Peony were half-brother and sister; Gavin worked under
the employment of three elven families (Everwoods, Sunnydales, and Pinegroves)
as their gardener and yardkeeper; Gavin was a member of the guild for Keepers
of Diamond Caves; he was found asking around rumours about diamond trades; he
was also seen with an elven lady by the name of Lavinia (who was at the
Willowdale residence); and he had sought sanctuary during a time when St
Eleanor’s was unoccupied and unobserved.
“Now, my turn,” Jasper opened his notes and
gave the following: Willowdale was a well respected elven gentleman. However,
there had been rumours amongst the servants of the household that he was
involved with many women, some of whom were his own female servants that he
dismissed with some reason such as petty theft, drunkenness, or lewd
behaviours. Willowdale was once married many years ago, but his wife died a
year after their marriage and they never had children. Many years later, with
many changes in the household staff, Willowdale brought home a young woman who
was believed to be his own daughter, likely a bastard. Because she resembled
someone in his family, he was convinced that she was his daughter – that girl
was Lavinia.
“The funny thing about this story was, Lavinia
first appeared about a year ago. She was polite and her behaviours were
refined. What the servants find odd was that she preferred to do things on her
own, dressing herself, doing her hair, and other skills that a young lady would
require with the help of a servant. She liked her privacy and told her father
she would like to keep it that way. Her father, probably because he doted on
her, gave her that freedom.”
“I thought fathers were usually strict about
their daughters’ whereabouts in the home,” I commented.
“What makes you say that?”
“Being a daughter myself with rather
overprotective parents I would say that would be expected.”
His eyes had a sad look about them.
“Jasper?”
“Yes,” he replied quietly, “yes, I would have
to agree with that.” He gave me a smile as if to chase away a sad thought. “Let
us say, that her father was protective. He would have her under lock and key;
however from what I had learned from the servants (and when we saw Lavinia) she
seemed to roam freely.”
“What was her reaction when she was told her
father died?” I asked.
“Well, apparently she was the one who found her
father dead in the room. She was the one who reported it to the rangers,
leaving them an address of a friend of hers.” Jasper gave the address which was
the Tiller residence.
“It is funny how we keep going back to that
place.”
After comparing notes, we decided to order
something from Digger’s shop and do some more work together. Jasper purchased
some apple turnovers and a pot of tea.
“Do you have a weapon?” Jasper asked the moment
we finished our tea and sweets.
“A weapon? No. Why?” I looked up at Jasper as I
collected the empty teacups.
“I think it would be good for you to have a
weapon.”
I felt uneasy about possessing a weapon. I know
that if one possessed a weapon for self-defence there were likely chances of it
being taken from that person and used against him.
I voiced my concern. “What if the weapon is
used against me?”
“Then, we shall make sure that does not
happen.”
Walking behind his desk Jasper reached down to one
of drawers and brought out two weapons: one looked like a cylindrical stick
about an inch thick and a foot long; the other was a small pistol with its
handle made of polished dark wood inlaid with an ivory star.
“Choose a weapon,” he told me, “or better yet,
take both. You never know when you will need them.”
I looked at him. Seeing his eyes sincere with
his decision, I picked up the stick.
“Ever used one of those?”
With a flick of my wrist the stick extended to
three feet. I held it upright before me like a sword.
“Something like it,” I gripped the handle with
both hands. The stick reminded me of the time when my father first introduced
me to Oronean style fencing when I was about seven. The practice blades we used
then were bamboo, lengths of bamboo bundled with strips of leather with a thick
disc of hide for a hilt. The bamboo blades that Father used to teach me with
were about four feet in length, of which he brought from Oronea. I once asked
him to teach me how to fight, but he refused saying, “I would rather teach you
to fight with your wits than with a sword that could also kill you in the end.”
At the time I wondered why he even introduced me Oronean fencing, now I could
conclude that he only wanted me to see that we have some warrior blood running
through us. Perhaps I got my hot headedness from my father’s warrior roots.
Jasper’s voice broke into my thoughts, “Shall
we give it a try?” In his hand he had another stick like mine extended before
him.
“In here?”
“I’m sure we could accommodate some space for
sparring.”
I glanced about me: the area where we seated
our clients was large, but cluttered with furniture. Moments later we moved all
the furniture against the walls to make a space large enough to parry or hold a
small duel.
“How about having some rules?” I suggested.
“Rules would be good.”
“No throwing people around.”
“That won’t happen.”
I picked up a chalk and drew a line about a
foot away from the furnitured walls. “We remain in the area I have just marked
off to reduce damage and injury.”
He nodded in agreement.
“Tapping your opponent will be counted a point.
No stabbing, jabbing, or any acts of violence that would produce injury. Any
questions?”
“If I may, Ms. Fullerton,” he raised his hand,
“injury is inevitable in something like this.”
“I agree, however I would like to take precautions.”
“Very well,” he stood close to one side of the
chalk square. I took my place across from him. He stood upright with the stick
extended in one hand, his free hand behind his back, “En garde?”
I gripped my weapon in both hands near the
base. Shifting my feet shoulder width apart I held the stick before me like a
sword. With a cry I ran towards him, he dodged my attack. For a few minutes we
continued this dance of my half-hearted attacks and his effortless dodging,
until he suddenly turned giving me a playful tug at my hair. The bun I had
painstakingly put up that morning fell apart. I gave him a look at what he had
just done.
“Come, come,” he teased, “don’t let that stop
you.”
With my hair dishevelled, I ran towards him
swinging harder, none of the blows landed on him. In a blink of an eye his face
was before mine, my vision briefly obstructed as something warm and soft brush
against my lips! I jolted. By the time he stepped away from me, I saw a slow half-grin
on his face and realized that he had just kissed me!
Infuriated that he would take advantage of me,
I gripped my stick and attacked him this time with more determination. Jasper’s
eyes had a spark of delight as if he saw something he wanted to see. I swung,
hacked, spun, and dodged. Still unable to hit my opponent, I breathed deeply
and closed my eyes. I imagined my father before me during a brief practice, his
Oronean practice blade before him in one hand telling me that he was going to invite
me to put more effort in what I did. He moved towards me, I ducked and swung.
My opponent collapsed.
I blinked and saw not my father, but Jasper
holding his side.
“Oh my goodness! Jasper, are you all right?” I
knelt before him.
He winced, but also looked pleased. “I knew you
had it in you.”
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I was
referring to his kiss and undoing my hair. I wanted to point out that he made
me angry by that kiss he gave me, but I turned to leave, only to have him grab
my wrist preventing me.
“What?” I demanded.
“Tell me why you are angry.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” he argued.
“All right then, I am angry with you? And there is
a good reason!” I put in with force before he said something.
“Care to tell me?” He had a mischievous twinkle
in his eyes.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” Jasper smiled. He was clearly
enjoying this.
“Why did you mess my hair? And why did you kiss
me?”
“I like you!”
I stopped. “What?”
Jasper straightened himself. “I like you,
Cassisa,” he said, “in fact I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you.” He
raised his stick, and flicked a hidden switch, making it shrink back to its
original size.
I stood there stunned, trying to process what
he had just told me. He kissed me because
he liked me? Suddenly, at the recollection of that kiss, how he used that
against me reminded me of my fury sent my hand painfully across his face.
“Not without my permission!” I yelled at him.
That evening during supper, the males were deep
in conversation while Jasper and I sat at opposite ends of the table from each
other. I pretended my indifference as I spooned the vanilla custard to my mouth
in hope of smothering my irritation from that kiss he stole from me.
“So the victim was found with a red mark,” Merl
spoke as Rusty, Harris and Ian listened intently at his recent medical
examination.
“Any other injuries?” Harris asked, taking
notes.
“A bruise on the lower ribcage made recently,
the shape was that of a long thin object. No broken bones.”
I slowly looked away feigning a sudden interest
on the designs of Rosemary’s dinnerware.
“Victim was found with some rouge on his lips
–” Merl added.
A tea cup was loudly set on its saucer coming
from the far end of the table. In my mind’s eye I could see everyone turning to
Jasper; everyone – except me.
“I believe the suspect was, in fact, the actual
victim in this case,” Ian commented.
“How so?” Merl asked innocently.
“By the shape of the red marking in question on
the man’s face is that of a woman’s hand.” Ian explained, “By the angle of the
mark one could deduce that it was possibly made when the man was standing
upright and the woman in question approached him. The rouge on the man’s lips
would prove my statement further.”
I tried to watch from a reflection on
Rosemary’s silver teapot as the other three men nodded in agreement. I heard a
nervous cough (from Jasper) and the sound of a chair creaking (Jasper shifting
in his seat).
“Well, if you ask me,” Rosemary put in bringing
fresh pots of cream and sugar for tea, “I would say that man deserved that
mark.” With that she returned to the kitchen.
“And yes, Jasper, we can do it too,” Rusty
added referring to their observational skills; his deadpanned reply held a hint
of laughter.
I stood up from my seat with my dishes and went
to the kitchen. Rosemary was occupying herself with washing the pots. I quietly
stood beside her and placed my dishes on the counter.
“Allow me,” I offered.
“I am almost done here,” Rosemary then added,
“and don’t let those lads bother you.” She finished rinsing one of the pots and
placed it on a drying surface to the side.
“He kissed me without permission,” I sulked.
She gave a soft chuckle. “Well now, I would
have done the same if I was in your position.”
I relaxed a bit at her response. Watching her
finish rinsing the last of the pots, she stepped to the side so I could do my
dishes. I could hear Jasper making some kind of protest against whatever it was
his friends were teasing him about this time.
“Although, and I know I would be a busybody
when I say this, I would suggest that you would make some peace with the lad.”
I looked at her wondering if she made that
suggestion out of anger, but it was not so.
“There was an old saying, ‘One should not end
the day in anger, it should be dealt with as soon as possible’.”
I nodded. I know that phrase, yet the idea of
me pasting a smile and giving a lip service of apology just did not sit well
with me. I have done that many times in the past, and lost some friendships in
the process all because my apology was phony. Although there were times I was
genuine in admitting wrong and tried to restore relationships that I ruined by
apologizing, yet I still lost those friendships. The bitter reminder left an
unpleasant taste in my mouth and a just as unpleasant lump in my throat.
I spoke to Ishual about this. My mother called
it “ego”, my former friends called it “pride”. Whatever it was, I despised that
part of me like a parasite that tickled in the back of my throat reminding me
of this ugly part of me I wished to get rid of but could not. When I asked Ishual
what I should do, he said nothing.
“Rosemary, would he accept my apology?” I heard
myself ask, I could hear my voice within me say, I don’t want to go on like
this!
“Why wouldn’t he?”
I shrugged. “I am a proud woman, or so I am
told, and my apologies mean nothing.”
She stopped what she was doing. “Now, who told
you that?”
I looked at my hands soaking in dishwater.
“Just some friends,” I fibbed. Once friends – most of whose names I clearly
remember.
“Well, do you think you were flippant with your
apologies?”
“I don’t believe so,” I said looking right at
her. I felt like crying. I was sick of those accusations. I was honest. Or at
least I tried, and yet people did not believe me.
Rosemary smiled. “Then, you should not worry,”
she assured me, “If you are being honest and genuine, it does not matter what others
say.”
“Does it?” I felt tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, dear child! You believe in Ishual who sees
and hears everything. He is the most reliable witness wherever we are. He knows your heart. If you are honest and
open to him in all that you do he knows that just as he would know if you are
lying or hiding something.”
I felt my lip turn up a smile. “Do you think
Jasper would accept my apology?”
“Do you think there was something you did that
deserves an apology?”
“I hit him across the face for kissing,” I added
the last bit when she broke into laughter.
“Perhaps he deserves an apology for the hit.
Expressing such behaviours in anger is not a wise thing – especially when he is
your employer.”
I nodded in agreement. “You’re right.”
“Cassisa,” I looked up to see Jasper at the
kitchen doorway, “A word with you if I may.”
I looked at Rosemary who smiled at me and gave
me a kind nudge. “Run along, dear. I will finish your dishes.”
“But –”
“Remember, do
make peace with him while the day is still young,” she said with a wink.
“Thank you, Rosemary.” I left her to meet
Jasper.
We left the place and began to stroll along the
road nearby. For a while we did not say anything.
“Jasper,” I began, “I –”
“Cassisa,” Jasper interrupted.
“Yes?”
“We will finish this case together.”
I smiled. “I am glad –”
“After that I will no longer have you as my
secretary.”
I stopped. Did
I just hear that he was going to dismiss me?
“Are you saying I am fired?” I felt dread
sinking in like a weight.
“I am afraid it will have to come to that,
yes.” Jasper turned to me, he had a look in his eyes, were they sadness?
“I’m sorry, I am trying to explain this –”
“It’s all right, Jasper,” I felt tears welling
up, but this time I will not cry. “I trust your judgement on this one.”
“You do?”
“Before you continue (and I am saying this
regardless of the decision already made) I just wanted to let you know. Thank
you for hiring me. I am sorry for crossing the line with my temper.” I
swallowed and continued, “If you much prefer, you could dismiss me sooner.”
“I don’t see why I should –”
“Thank you for your time,” I turned to leave
but he grabbed my wrist.
“Now, wait a minute! We are not done here!”
“I thought we were.”
“First of all, I want to finish this case with
you, therefore I do not plan on giving you an early dismissal. Secondly, I…” He
looked at me, but I cannot seem to look at him. “Is it an apology you are
asking me?”
Now I was the one laughing! “Whatever for? I
was the one who lost my temper and hurt you.” I squeezed my eyes shut to
collect my thoughts. Then I opened them and looked right at him, “I apologize
for hitting you. That was not something I should have done to someone who has
authority over me.”
His hand loosened its grip briefly where I was
able to slip out of them and head back to Rosemary’s.
Chapter 9
The next morning, I woke up with a cloud of
dread hanging over me. Recalling the conversation with Jasper last night only
worsened my melancholy. As a former teacher I had days where I was so
discouraged with myself and my life I nearly drowned from my melancholic state.
As I lay in bed I silently spoke to Ishual. I told him what I did wrong (along
with other things I may have done wrong) and my regrets with my behaviours
thanks to my temper. I also told him my disappointments in myself especially
when I thought I had finally found a decent job; I was hoping I could stay and
help my parents pay back the remaining debt my last husband had left me; and
yet the question remained of what I need to do with myself now that I was
dismissed.
Throughout this silent exchange, I felt tears
streaming down from the corners of my eyes on to my pillow. What should I do? I was at a loss. I did
not want to get up out of bed. A knock sounded on my bedroom door.
“Cassisa,” Rosemary called, “Jasper is asking
for you.”
Tell
him I just died! I was tempted
to say, instead I asked, “What time is it?”
“It is eleven minutes after nine o’clock.”
My world had already ended; I did not see how
Jasper wanted me. Then I heard a commotion: Rosemary making a fuss about
something and – was that a male voice on the other side of the door?
Pounding on the door demanded my appearance.
“Cassisa! Get up right now! We have case to
solve!” It was Jasper.
I took my time getting out of bed and putting
my clothes on. By the time I was fixing my hair, Jasper opened the door.
“One would usually knock before they enter,” I told
him coldly. I was not too keen on seeing him.
“I already did, and I gave you ample time to be
ready.” He held up a lunch pail. “I have your breakfast here. Also, since I
believe you would like to freshen up before you present yourself to the world,
you have five minutes.” With that he sped downstairs, probably to avoid another
commotion with Rosemary because I saw a rather black look on her face. I
wondered if that look was towards me for my extreme tardiness or towards Jasper
for being upstairs where a woman’s privacy was maintained. I decided it was
both.
We sat in our usual hansom driven by Matthews.
I sat as far away from Jasper as I could to almost dangerously leaning over my
side of the seat. I felt a strong hand grip my arm and pull me back.
“Do you want to get yourself killed?” Jasper scolded.
I kept my look sullen and faced away from him.
“Really, Cassisa, you are being immature.”
“If I might remind you,” I began, “I am still
angry at myself and at what had happened between us.”
“So why are you angry and what exactly about?”
“Well, what do you think?”
“Well, what is
it?”
I shot a look at him. He had a smirk on his
face. It now irritated me that he found this whole ordeal entertaining and got
the upper hand by returning my question with a question. How I hated that!
“Ah! We have arrived.” He eagerly jumped out of
the hansom just before I was about to say something else I would regret later. Luckily
I kept my mouth shut and followed him.
I realized where we were when Jasper stopped at
the main gates leading to the front property of Willowdale residence. The place
was closed off, but none of the rangers were in sight. Pulling on our cotton
gloves, Jasper and I entered the crime scene. For the first time, I noticed
that Jasper carried an envelope with him that I recognized held the coroner
reports from Merl.
“According to Constable Ryans, who happened to
be part of the investigation, Rineaux Willowdale was found in his room.” Jasper
led me to Willowdale’s bedroom. The door was left open ajar with its bloodied
carpet visible.
“Hmmm, this time the rangers did a rather
thorough job,” he commented as he showed me a photograph of Willowdale lying on
his side in a pool of blood.
I gave up remaining angry and decided to
cooperate. “I didn’t know they took pictures of the scene,” I said, though part
of me still chiding my overextended stewing.
“Usually they don’t, but after a visit from
someone above I suppose it was brought to attention.”
There were five photographs. The first one was
of the victim and the state he was found in. The second was the details of the
wound and the blood stains on the floor. The remaining three were of the state
of the crime scene.
“What do you suppose that is?” I pointed at a
strange marking on Mr. Willowdale’s body. It was almost hidden under the
collar, but it was a discoloured patch that appeared to creep up to his lower
jaw.
Jasper peered at patch I pointed out. “It looks
like a rash.” He flipped through Merl’s report and found what he was looking
for. “‘Victim had a severe allergic
reaction from iron. Rash spreading around the upper arm where a deep laceration
had occurred spread down to the left elbow, up the left shoulder and along the
left jaw.’ What’s this? ‘Victim had a
history of injury on the right hip, evidence shown on the shorter left leg due
to shifting bodily weight on the left side. Victim would be using a cane for
support.’”
“How did he die?” I wondered aloud.
“According to Merl the victim was stabbed.”
A thought crossed my mind wondering if anything
was left after the Rangers did their investigation. I crouched down and began
to search under furniture. Just under the bed was something that glinted. I
went down on my belly, reached under the bed and felt my hand close over
something long and slender. I brought it out; it was a cane of polished ebony.
The black wood was polished to a velvet shine with a faceted knob of smoky
quartz on top.
“Good eye,” Jasper complimented.
I heard a faint rattling sound came from within
the cane. I gave it a shake and heard it again.
“There’s something inside.” I examined the cane
and noticed that there was a hidden groove located about a span down from the
top; I began twisting the length where the groove was until the cane separated
into two sections revealing its inside revealing a compartment holding several
diamonds ranging from 2 to 4 carats all bearing dwarven runes.
“Well done, Cassisa!” Jasper praised.
I flushed. “We should take this to the station
house,” I said as I put the cane back together.
“The lads there would be impressed at your
find.”
I could only smile and say, “Let’s see what
else we could find here.”
We did another search.
“Now what do we have here?” Jasper crouched
down in front of a grated air vent. The bolts were oddly a size smaller than
the holes they were in so the grate to the vent could easily be removed.
“What is in the vent?” I asked.
The grate fell away the moment he gave it a
gentle tug. Inside the vent was a white handkerchief with a ruddy-brown stain.
Taking the handkerchief, he opened it to reveal plain white handkerchief, two
letters cut from newspaper, and a silver letter opener.
“D and P,” he said as he studied the cut out
letters, “This letter opener is made of steel.”
Elves are naturally allergic to iron, which
also means they were allergic to steel because of its iron components. Because
one prick or scratch would cause them serious harm, some elves would take the
extreme of even building their homes without iron materials, including nails.
They would hire special carpenters who had the skill of building homes without
any metals – something that would be impossible for humans to imagine, but made
possible if that skill was demonstrated.
I peered over Jasper’s shoulder as we studied
the letter opener. It was a plain letter opener, one that could be found in an
office.
“It appears we have found the murder weapon.”
Jasper wrapped the letter opener in its handkerchief then rolled them into his
own to keep it from further exposure. “I think we are done here.”
“I wonder if the handkerchief was from the
murderer.” I commented as we made our way out of the room. Just as we were
about to leave Willowdale residence, something shining in a corner near the main
entryway caught my eye. I reached down and picked it up. It was a round brass
locket. The item was in a small corner near the door almost hidden from sight.
On the locket was the initial T, inside contained a small painted portrait of a
large eyed dark haired woman. The woman was young, somewhere in her twenties,
her dark hair was piled on her head, she wore a yellow dress and on her hand
was a large ruby ring. For some reason the face looked very familiar. Then I
recalled something about the ring, when we were conducting our investigation.
“The man called her Lavinia... The lady was
wearing a gold ring with a ruby on her left hand.” Could it be? I turned to Jasper.
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” he asked
with a knowing look.
“I believe so.”
Jasper and I immediately paid Peony a visit. We
stood in front of the Tiller residence and knocked on the door. The moment
Peony appeared at the door she let us in.
As we sat in her den, this time Jasper was the
one who asked the questions.
He held up the locket we found. “This locket
was found in the Willowdale residence, Miss. Tiller. Would you care to explain
how it got there?”
Colour drained from Peony’s face as she
fiercely shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“You are aware that Rineaux Willowdale had been
killed in his home. Surely, you must know something.”
“The locket is indeed mine. But I swear, I did
not kill him and I certainly do not know how it got in the home of that man!”
Peony shook like a leaf as she wrapped her arms around her.
“Lavinia,” I said.
A look of recognition flashed across Peony’s
face. She looked at me in surprise.
“I believe you know her?” I inquired.
Peony shook her head, but her eyes told us
otherwise.
“Peony, two people are dead. You need to tell
us what you know about Lavinia.”
Peony bit her bottom lip, eyes downcast. “She
is my half-sister – or so we believe.”
“Half-sister?” Jasper asked.
“She shared the same mother as Gavin and I, but
her father was Rineaux Willowdale.”
“How do you know this?”
“I learned of this just after Gavin died.”
Peony sobbed, covering her face with both her hands, her knees sank to the
floor. “I came across some papers that mentioned our blood relation. I confess.
I have killed my own brother.”
“Tell us what happened,” Jasper said.
We watched as Peony sniffled. I approached her
and handed her my handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully. After liberally
blowing into it and wiping her nose, she began her story.
“Gavin and I were very close. He protected me
when I was small from my father’s violence. After my father passed away and our
mother fell ill, he continued to take care of both myself and our mother. When
our mother died, Gavin found work at the Willowdales. He had been working with
the elven community for years as well as being part of the guild for Keepers of
Diamond Caves.
“One day, he came home with a concerned look on
his face. When I asked him, he told me not to worry. He never told me what it
was that bothered him, yet as days and months passed, I noticed that he was
distant. Finally, it came to a point that it made me worry for him, I followed
him. I saw him meeting a young woman at an Oronean restaurant. He seemed very
affectionate towards her. I was shocked. He used to tell me everything and now
he had a secret – with a woman! Then he would leave with her to the park and I
followed. It was then I overheard Gavin and that woman plotting to run away! As
I continued to listen I heard them setting a time and place. I wanted to know
what this was about so I waited for them at the cemetery near St. Eleanor’s
Chapel.”
“When was this?” Jasper took notes as we
listened.
“This was at midnight, and that was when I saw
my brother meet not a woman, but a man! It was dark and the man my brother was
meeting wore black so I could not see who exactly it was. He started to attack
my brother, making him run to the chapel for sanctuary. As I watched, I became
worried about my brother’s welfare so I followed him. I saw them fighting each
other in the sanctuary where it was also dark. I found a sickle that was left
by one of the gardeners behind the chapel. I grabbed it and entered the chapel.
I attacked whom I thought was the assailant, but only to discover I had stabbed
my brother!” At that Peony broke down into tears.
“Miss. Tiller,” Jasper spoke gently, “Go to the
rangers right now and tell them what you have told us.”
“You believe me?”
“What you have told us, explains your brother’s
death. However,” he added, “What I do not understand why is why you did not
tell them this sooner.”
She replied, “I was afraid.”
Moments later we accompanied Peony to the
station house where we handed in the evidence we also found in our
investigations. As we left, Jasper was lost in thought.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Hm? Oh, yes.” His face, however, told me
otherwise. He then turned to me. “What do you think? Peony admitted to the
murder of her brother, and yet, there was another that had occurred which may
have a connection and she did not mention.”
“Perhaps she did not commit that one, or she is
hiding something.”
“Perhaps…” Jasper did not seem convinced.
Suddenly he stopped. “Cassisa, I want you to go straight home.”
“Go home?” Oh,
yes, this was our last case together. “All right, I will do that.” I held
out my hand.
Taking my hand, he gave me a confused look.
“Good work, Jasper,” I forced a smile on my
face.
He gave me his half-grin and shook my hand.
“You did well too, you know.”
I kept my smile as I turned to make my way back
to Rosemary’s.
I walked for some distance, believing that
Jasper would not see me, I let my tears fall. I was not sure why my heart ached.
I asked myself if it was because I will no longer work with Jasper. As I
reached into my reticule to get my handkerchief, someone handed me theirs.
“Thank you,” I sniffed as I wiped my eyes.
“I would be careful with that, my dear,” said a
kind voice, “The chloroform may work too quickly.”
“Chloroform?” The handkerchief pressed against
my face. It was then I saw a pair of large green eyes and bright yellow hair.
The world around me spun, a strong arm caught me as I stared into the face of
the mystery woman.
“Lavinia?” I heard myself say as I fell into a
deep sleep.
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