Location: Alleyway --> The Tough Tavern --> Danrose Castle
A flash filled the alleyway as if lightning had struck.
â Thatâs a keeper⌠Now letâs move the body onto the gurney.â Calbert had looked away once the sheet had been removed to take one last photo, but his gaze had caught ahold of something beige laying nearby in the brief light. A woman with a mousey appearance peeked out from the tent over her after a moment,
âI think I have enough pictures.â She continued to remove the glass on the lens and prepared to cap it. The body was recovered and men moved into the vicinity, grabbing the corpse gently under her legs on one side and under her back on the other.
Guards could be dimly heard talking in the background as Calbertâs footsteps rang through the alleyway. The blood beneath his feet splattered noisily as he halted his step and knelt down. When he rose, a piece of bread was held in his hand. He examined it with a twitching lip.
The chatter gradually desisted as they turned to watch him. He took off a small, untarnished piece of the bread and put it in his mouth. He was quiet as he chewed. Calbert suddenly spat it on the floor, making those near him wince. He clutched the bread, crumbs falling to the ground in a rain from his iron grip.
âBring me the man who found her. Is he still here?â His voice was demanding as he glanced around the alleyway.
Ever since the corpse was found, John was under the guardâs supervision, being the first person to discover the atrocity. Second probably, since who knows found the body beforehand, and kept silent about it. The guard did keep the doctor occupied with small chatters here and there, but the wait was fairly quiet.
Johnâs breath was heavy throughout the wait but he looked otherwise unusually calm and meticulous, writing quite a bit into the piece of paper he pulled out of his coatâs pocket. The guards soon escorted him to a taller bearded-man with long black-hair. The doctor could tell from his face, the slight muscle twitch, his grip on that bread, his strained face. He seemed like the guy in charge, and he didnât seem happy in the slightest.
âGood evening sir.â John said as he walked up to him.
âI am told you need my presence.â Calbert took in the sight of the man before him: thin with curly yet neat dark hair. He was dressed well enough. He repressed a sigh of relief; he was dealing with another man of higher status.
âGood evening.â He replied in return, offering the gentleman a hand to shake,
âI am Count Calbert Damien. Iâd like to first thank you for finding my daughter⌠Please allow me the honor of your name, good sir.â His voice had a hint of hoarseness to it, but he seemed to be attempting to retain some semblance of formality.
âSheâs yourâŚâ John glanced at the body of what used to be a lively person, now a bloodied mess covered up and carried away by two guards. Now it all made sense why he looked so pissed to him.
âMy deep condolence to you, Count Calbert.â He excepted his handshake gently, with both hands cupping the countâs hands, respecting the manâs social status.
âI am Dr. John Williamson, but you can address me as John, if preferable.âCalbert narrowed his gaze a moment as he was thinking.
âI see. Dr. John. Please inform me of the circumstance you came upon this ordeal. I was wondering if you saw anything⌠or anyone.âJohn glanced sideway and down on his sheet of paper for a second.
âI did see someone, yes. So I was walking down this way at around 22:05,â He pointed his hand in the opposite direction of the tavern.
âwhen I noticed someone was running away from the alleyway, turning to my opposite direction. They left some bloody footprints overâŚâ He then walked over to the alleywayâs entrance, looked over the footprints for one second since the investigators and guards have stepped on the blood, leaving their footprints too, before pointing at one trail.
âthat one.âIt did trail over to the direction he was indicating, fading away quickly after a few steps. The print were thick but were mostly discontinued from one another, suggesting that suspect was wearing boots.
Count Calbert hung on his every word. He followed his every movement as well, his blue eyes scanning the footprints. His gaze locked on the trail he pointed out. He asked with no hesitation.
â Could you tell me anything about their appearance?ââIâm not sure, they wore a hood. But they were wearing all blacks as far as I remember.â John replied.
All black. A planned assassination perhaps?The long-haired man narrowed his eyes with impatience. He
needed more.
âDr. John. I hope you can recall something more about this individual. Perhaps their hair color? The shape of their body could also perhaps let us know if this was a male or female.ââBody shape? They do look pretty slim, but it was so dark.â Now it was the doctorâs turn to narrow his eyes, as he rubbed his temples. They were bending a little while running, and the darkness blended their clothes so it was a little difficult to discern if their figures were a womanâs or what. But while the darkness concealed their body shape, it inadvertently highlighted other bright colors.
âBut I believe theyâre blonde. I did see some loose yellow hair strands as theyâre running.â He hammered his hand onto his other palm, a revelation hits.
âAh.â A smile stretched across Calbertâs face.
âThank you, Dr. John.â He said simply. However, it was not a normal smile. It was twisted with malice as dreadful intentions crossed his mind. The smile one imagined a demon might wear before attacking its prey.
Thief of food and of daughters, you will soon suffer more than you can ever imagine.He looked at Dr. John as if he had forgotten he was there a moment.
âShall we follow the bunny trail?âCalbert asked him. The anger that had rocked him just before was still evident in his eyes yet his tone was eerily cool and nonchalant now.
Something clicked in his mind as John noticed that smile. His teeth grinded quietly as he still outwardly displayed calm and composure. On the one hand, he could understand the pain. He had seen similar outburst of anger, grief and sadness from parents who outlived their offsprings, especially in cases where it is not natureâs fault. But on the other, this lookedâŚso diabolic. For one second, he thought he was the one going to be devoured.
John maintained his eye-contact.
âIf Iâm needed sir.â He said in the most neutral way as possible. Because technically he was just a witness. He didnât need to be an investigator too if it wasnât required, especially considering his status as a visitor now and no longer a citizen.
âYes. You are.â Calbert replied curtly.
â You will point her out for me.â He started an aggressive walk, following the footprints. The guards began to follow while some stayed behind to continue cleaning up the mess.
John was a little taken aback by the pace, but he quickly kept up. That tone and curtness was not to be trusted. Again, fatherâs grief, but this is a Count we are talking about. If his experience of Caesonia served him right, if they decided if the guilt of someone was certain, then there were little a commoner could do to stop that. John suspected that hooded individual too, but even science and mathematics had its fatal flaws, it is very possible that sheâs innocent. And he would not want to be the one responsible for the torture and even execution of an innocent woman. He would not be able to sleep at night if that happened. But how to convey such nuance to a grieving vindictive father here? Thereâs not a lot of time.
âI will gladly do so as ordered, Count Calbert.â John started, glancing upward at him, before his voice softened as to convey his empathy to a man who just lost a piece of him, but still maintaining a cold rational front.
âBut I hope you arenât jumping the hoops too quickly.â âNo. Iâm certain that I am not.â Calbert said whilst he walked. He glanced down at the shorter man,
âI caught a blonde woman eavesdropping on a private conversation. When I confronted her, she had this same bread in her inventory.â He rose the hand holding the piece of bread,
âThe very same bread from the ball. Now I know that she not only dares to steal from the King, but from me.â Disgust and hatred filled his voice.
âWorth mentioning as well, my other daughter claimed a man at the ball had been stalking her. And guess who that gentleman chose to dance with at the ball? â Calbert halted his walk to lean in and meet Johnâs eyes,
âThe same. blonde. woman.â âI seeâŚâ John nodded firmly. He was going to say something about his testimony not being reliable, but it appeared that it just confirmed what Calbert had in mind prior. Even he sounds a little convinced about it. He hoped that was actually true and that she actually killed his daughter, but his diabolical smile unsettled him the moment he saw it. John knew from that moment he couldnât fully trust this man. This wasnât a grieving emotional father. This was a vengeful one.
Soon enough, the duo and four guards were at the front of the Tough Tavern. Calbert exhaled but wasted little time throwing the door open. He stomped in practically, calling the attention of all. He cleared his throat as he examined the room. As he stepped inside slowly, the violinist audibly groaned as he dropped his bow off his instrument. His gaze locked on the wooden floorboards before him thoughtfully after peeing around.
Wet? Someone spilled their drink?He glanced around once more until he paused to glance at Ryn. His brows lifted with curiosity for a moment before declaring,
âThere is a criminal on the loose. It is believed to be a female in all black with blonde hair. We have reason to believe she entered this tavern tonight.â Two of the guards near him began moving about the tavern, searching.
The red-haired girl at the bar slammed her hands on the table, using the momentum to lift herself higher up, speaking up,
âNo blondes here⌠Well except for Jack.â She gestured to the platinum-blonde young man lazying on a chair nearby. Olga, the bar owner, could be seen shaking her fist at him to reprimand him for not working.
âHmmâŚâ He whirled around and looked at John finally.
âWhat do you think?âJohn was mostly silent throughout the search. It seemed like she was already gone, as he would have expected. Hell, she might not have gone into this tavern in the first place.
âWe could ask the owner.â The doctor still kept a neutral tone.
âBut clothes could be discarded, and blonde womanâŚwell we could ask one third of this kingdom for that.â He tapped on his temple a couple of times, thinking of solutions.
âYou know her face, you can perhaps ask for an illustrator perhaps? Or if she has stolen before, the royal guards might have had their face sketched somewhere. We could ask them for help.âBecause if she had killed someone, she probably had already fled far away.
âBut why the heck would I be giving these suggestions?â John thought just as he uttered his previous sentence. This guyâs a Count, and heâs a foreigner, by technicality.
Calbert nodded slowly,
âVery intelligent, Dr. John. I am appreciative of your help.â With a heavy sigh, he clenched his fists, his gaze locking on a spot before him. He turned on his heels, whispering in Johnâs ear.
â Weâll go to the royal castle and alert them of the presence of the slayer. Iâll make a drawing of her face once we arrive. The guards require me to do so regardless, but I asked to do it myself so this can all happen in a manner that protects my other daughter.â He paused,
â That is, if you do not mind coming, Iâd appreciate your help.âJohn glanced sideways before returning the whisper.
âI do stay at the guest house, so I donât mind.â He said. Calbert had given him a small smile.
Things all seemed to be going well until he called over his shoulder,
âTwo of you guards should stay here and search the second floor⌠The floorboards are damp in a path toward the stairs.âThe door shut with a slam.
After a brief carriage ride, Calbert and John approached the castle ground. Eyes had peered down at them with intensity from the walls upon entry. Emerging from the carriage, the duo then moved up the stairs to the gates. The two guards that acquainted them met the gazes of those who were stationed outside the entrance. Then the corpulent castle doors gradually opened in front of their eyes.
They then were escorted into the entrance hall, their footsteps echoing in the empty, unoccupied space. Calbert held up a hand to let Dr. John know he needed to wait a moment. With a journal in his other hand, he picked a writing instrument out of his pocket and continued to work on a sketch of the womanâs face that he had begun over the duration of the carriage ride. He certainly was no artist, but he could draw well enough to establish a point. He was fastidious as one could be.
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Experiment 249
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