A man is dead.
I prefer it [[that]] way.
[[Next>>]]The man was Arthur Finn Ashbough III. He had been [[stabbed]].
It was a gray Wednesday morning when I got called in to the scene. The late Mr. Ashbough lived on an [[estate]], I suppose you could call it.
The local police force was much too small and inexperienced to feel comfortable handling such an obvious murder case, so they sent a message to my branch of the force, stationed in the nearest, medium sized town that could be classified a city.
Jensen was sent ahead, along with a forensics team, to do the preliminary investigation and rounding up of suspects and clues before I got there. It was decided the local coroner was [[sufficient]] enough.
I counted five automobiles in the driveway, one of them a police vehicle, as I approached the house. [[Jensen met me at the door.]]In every tv show, movie, and obituary section of the newspaper, there's always a dead, murdered woman. For fictional murders, they might as well kill a [[dog]].
[[<<back|that]]
[[Um, hello? There's a dead man?|Start]]It's always just shades of misogyny, over and over and over again.
I like the more interesting motives that show up when a man is murdered. Makes the job more [[fun]].
[[<<back|that]]
[[A man is dead???|Next>>]] In the back.
Which would be ironic if it weren't literal, considering all of the suspects were people who were [[close]] to the deceased.
[[<<back|Next>>]]It was a bigger house than most people had, and you could say that it had a few acres of grounds, but it was by no means a grand, sprawling mansion. Though it was large enough, I noted, that it would not be uncommon to not see another resident for several hours, or possibly even a day or two.
It was set far enough away from the town that there was only one true neighbor. And even then, you'd have to consider it an undertaking to go get a cup of sugar from them.
[[<<back|Next>>]] "Hey boss. Follow me this way, to the kitchen, I'll give you the rundown."
Jensen sat down at a table covered in files, handing me a warm mug.
"I rounded up all the possible suspects I could find. None of them have been in the house since the body was discovered, to keep the crime scene unbothered. I did some preliminary interviews. Didn't get all that much, and some of them don't seem likely at all, but. They're all waiting in the sitting room, I figured you'd want to over their files first."
I nodded, gratefully accepting the mug. I always liked Jensen.
[[Ask Jensen what had been discovered so far]]
[[Pick up the closest file]]I hate it when it's a woman that's dead. It's much too [[common]], in media and in real life.
Plus, the [[reasons]] the women are killed are generally always the same and always sad.
[[The dead man???|Start]] No, I don't have skewed morals. Why do you ask?
[[<<back|reasons]]
[[Seriously, a man is dead. Go back to that!|Start]] Some people would probably be more upset about the murder if that were the case.
Despicable.
[[So...uh, the dead guy?|Next>>]] Though no one can compare to my main girl, Evelyn. Ain't nobody can deal with dead bodies like her.
[[<<back|Next>>]]Personally, geographically, genetically, whatever
Take your pick, I don't care
~~(actually i'm being paid to care....so.)~~
[[<<back|Next>>]]"The knife was the deceased's. His grandfather's fancy hunting knife or something. Apparently he kept it displayed in his study, on top of the cabinet right near the door. He also apparently kept it [[sharpened]]. Bet he's regretting that now."
"Can the dead have regrets, Jensen?"
"...Is there a right answer to that boss?"
I raised my eyebrows at Jensen, taking a long sip from the mug. How the hell would I know? I wasn't dead[[.]]
[[What else?]]''Khalil [[Gardener]],'' the groundskeeper
In his late 30s, has worked as the groundskeeper here for 8 years, after the old groundskeeper retired. Grew up in the city and worked in the botanical gardens for years before deciding to move out here for a quieter life. Lives in town, keeps to himself, but described as always being kind and friendly.
Has no set hours or days, just comes whenever for however long it takes to do his job. Often comes nearly everday though. Good friends with the housekeeper.
Had no complaints about Ashbough as a boss, said he wasn't the greatest, but adequate. Good pay, flexibility, nice grounds.
Has no outstanding debts or bad habits unless he is keeping them //very // quiet.
Jensen's handwritten note: Nice guy. Very calm. No motive as far as I can tell.
[[Pick up the next file]]
Truly, what a convenient name.
[[<<back|Pick up the closest file]] ''Pamela Cartwright'', the sister of the deceased
In her late 40s, must have a job based on how expensive her clothing and jewelry all seems to be, but what that job could be is anyone's guess. Anytime anyone asks she gives an answer with a lot of buzzwords that seems to make sense, though no one can tell you what it was afterwards.
Hasn't been in town for a couple years, is constantly traveling, never spending more than a few months or weeks in the same place. Has many friends all over, and always making new ones--from waitresses in small farming towns to a weirdly large amount of very rich and influential people.
Distant relationship with her brother and sister(the niece's mother). Has only directly communicated with her brother once since the last time she was in town. Her unconvential vs his conventional lifestyle and ideals were a large part of the fuel for their estrangement.
Jensen's handwritten note: eccentric aunt, pinched my cheek and said I was cute as a button
[[Next file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]] Does it matter if the knife is sharpened or not when it's being stabbed?
Obviously it matters when cutting and slicing, but stabbing? Funny, the things you never think about.
Evelyn, my favorite coroner friend, would know. She knows all about bodies and the things that make them stop living. She figures out why people are dead and how the death was caused.
Me? I just detect. That doesn't really deal with the dead bodies. It's pretty easy to detect if a person's dead or not. I've only ever been wrong once.
[[<<Back|Ask Jensen what had been discovered so far]] Yet."There were no prints on it. So, the knife can't help us in figuring out who's the murderer. Anyone could have grabbed it. Therefore, we also have no way of knowing if it was a spur of the moment impulse or a previously planned thing, this murder."
I nodded. "Very good analysis Jensen."
Jensen didn't quite smile, cause that wouldn't be appropriate in this situation, with the murder and all, but they [[brightened]] a bit.
"The coroner says Ashbough died Monday afternoon or evening. The body didn't get discovered until Tuesday afternoon though, not far past midday. His housekeeper and his daughter discovered the body together. The housekeeper was also the last one to see him. He had lunch Monday and then he told her he was going to go shut himself in his study for a while, and not to disturb him. She then went to the grocery store, returned and put away the groceries without seeing Mr. Ashbough, then went home for the day."
"Hmm."
"She could have had the opportunity to stab him as soon as he went into his study, though I don't think so. We've got several people who saw her leave the house and go get groceries not long after lunch ended, and whoever stabbed Ashbough would've had to [[clean]] up the blood that got on them."
"So what happened at that lunch?"
"I don't know boss, I didn't ask that. I figured you'd want to be here to hear those answers yourself."
I nodded. There was a reason I liked Jensen.
[[Pick up the closest file]]
[[Who all did you round up as suspects?]]Jensen //thrives// on positive enforcement.Though if anyone could clean blood quickly out of clothing, it'd be a housekeeper.
[[<<Back|What else?]] "For starters, the groundskeeper and housekeeper. They both spend a large part of their days here, probably know everyone's schedule and the house and grounds well, and it's possible there could be resentment in the employer-employee relationship. I don't like either of them for it though.
There's also the neighbor. She's an old lady, I really doubt she could have done it, but you know, I never want to underestimate the elderly just because they're [[elderly]]. It's unlikely we'd be able to get her away anyway--this is the most exciting thing to happen near her in a while and she's nosy enough she'd be here anyway even if we didn't ask her to be.
Then there's Ashbough's niece. Her parents sent her to stay here with her uncle for a time, no definitive end date. Doesn't seem like it was her idea, local gossip is she was a bit of trouble for her parents. She's been here three [[months]]. Got some anger and resentment, I think she's definitely a possibility. Her and the old lady have become friendly.
Ashbough's daughter also lives here with her father. Apparently their relationship was a bit strained, both being [[strong personalities]] who liked things their way. She could be a possibility. Her mother, Ashbough's ex-wife, should be arriving in the next few hours.
One of Ashbough's sisters happens to be in town too. The eccentric aunt who's travels and lives hedonistically from what I can tell, who rarely visits and only really delights the kids when she visits. She wasn't very close to her brother, she's staying at a hotel in town rather than stay here. I can't get a read on whether she's someone we should suspect or not.
Next there's Ashbough's best friend. Unpleasant guy. I don't know if he would be capable of murder, but spending time with him would drive someone to [[it.]]
Finally, there's the scholar. Academic guy, Ashbough was letting him live in the house for a few months, as he did research in the area and worked on his...thesis, I think it was. The isolation and quiet of the house and area is something he needs in order to get stuff done and couldn't get at his own home, he said. No personal connection with the victim beyond that. Probably had good opportunity to kill him, though I can't figure out any motive he'd have."
"Quite the cast of characters we have here, Jensen."
"Oh yeah, boss. Oh yeah."
[[Pick up the closest file]]
[[Let's go talk to them.]] That's wisdom I taught Jensen. The most prolific murderer I ever investigated was the frailest looking grandma, but boy was she killer.
[[<<Back|Who all did you round up as suspects?]]I was once sent to stay with relatives for a few months when I was young. They weren't too great at keeping watch of me, however. I ended up spending a week in a mansion--a few days journey away from my relative's house--as the personal guest of a socialite, after traveling downriver on a boat with a con woman/psychic. It was quite the adventure for an eleven year old. And to think it all started with a visit to a convent.
Good times.
[[Anyway.|Who all did you round up as suspects?]] Quite the statement coming from Jensen, who despite being in this line of work, is a gentle soul to a fault. Generally, you'd have to purposefully kill a butterfly to get on Jensen's bad side.Jensen led me to where the suspects were in the sitting room. Almost as soon as we entered, we were accosted.
"Jenkins! There you are, you neglectful cop! It's about time! We're important people you know, you can't keep us waiting! Well," the man looked around the room, as if he smelled something rottten, "I'm important. If you're here to serve the people you should actually be here to serve. Hmph. You're the detective?" The man surveyed me disapprovingly. From this, to his age, to the look on Jensen's face, it was not hard to realize that this was Craig Marshall, Ashbough's unpleasant friend.
I looked him up and down in return. He was wearing the ugliest suit I had ever seen. Truly, just [[terrible.]]
"Yes."
"Will wonders ever cease. Well, we're screwed. Typical police incompetence. Letting a woman be a detective. It sickens me, it does."
I looked at the other suspects gathered in the room. It was a rather odd bunch, all put together. Thankfully, none of them seemed to like Craig anymore than Jensen did.
Craig was still going. "It's about time you got here, anyhow. Took your sweet time huh? Not caring that we're grieving here and need answers, huh? My best friend was murdered and there needs to be justice? But that's too hard for you, oh no, you take your sweet time, and I bet you don't even have any answers for us!"
I stepped around him. "Hello everyone." They all looked at me. Craig huffed indignantly, but even he quieted and went to stand at the side of the room. "My deepest condolences to all of you for your loss. I do not wish to impede upon your grief, however, Arthur Finn Ashbough III was murdered, and this cannot be left unsolved. I am here to figure out who did it." I paused, but none of them said anything. The girl I assumed to be Lucille Ashbough sniffled. "You are all suspects in Mr. Ashbough's murder. I will be interviewing you each individually, to get a detailed statement. While I am interviewing someone, the rest of you will remain here. The local officers--" I gestured to the two officers who stood at the door to the room, "will make sure of that. There is no need for any of you to leave, unless of course, you are the guilty party." I smiled slightly, looking at each of them in turn. The academic looked a bit flighty, but I was confident none of them wouldd leave now. "Good. Let's get started then, shall we?"
I looked around the room, deciding who I wanted to interview first. Ah. Age before youth.
"Ms. Andrea Vanders. Will you join me in the other room?" I held my hand out to the old lady.
"Of course," she smiled as she took it, patting who the girl who must be Miriam's shoulder as she got up. Jensen following, I led her to the room next door, which would be the de-facto [[interviewing room.]]In my experience, "strong personalities" means forceful, stubborn assholes that no one likes.
And, boy, do I have a lot of experience.
[[<<Back|Who all did you round up as suspects?]] ''Eric Wilson'' the academic living in the deceased's house
In his late 20s, has been staying in Ashbough's house for around two months, expected to stay for another month or three to continue working on his research.
Keeps mostly to himself, spends most of his time at the local library, in his room and the smaller study of the house, or out walking in nature.
Has been persuaded to tea occasionally with the neighbor, sometimes gets joined in his walks by the daughter, and once lost a game of chess to the niece.
No one's quite sure how he and Ashbough got connected or why Ashbough let him stay, or what exactly his research is on other than that it is vaguely scientific, not very important in the grand scheme of things, and very boring.
He and Ashbough were cordial with one another, but they never seemed likely to go beyond being polite acquaintances.
Jensen's handwritten note: Nervous guy. Very uncomfortable at his proximity to the site of a murder. Hard to get him to say anything worthwhile.
[[Open next file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]''Andrea Vanders'' the neighbor
73 and very proud of her still near total mobility.
Lives alone, ever since the friend she lived with died several years back. A local girl regularly brings groceries and comes to clean the house and fix things up when needed.
A retired stenographer, is very content to live her quiet, isolated life. Absolutely riveted by any drama in the town, and likes to know everything, though she dosn't care to be close to many of the townspeople.
Has very strong opinions, but only shares them with a select group of confidantes. Those who are her friends adore her.
Paints a picture of the ocean [[view]] from her porch every single day.
Tolerated the deceased, but has a fondness for his groundskeeper and housekeeper, who visit her every day or so.
Took Ashbough's niece under her wing when she arrived, the two often spend hours together each day at Vanders' house or going into town or drives up and down the countryside.
Jensen's handwritten note: Told me to have more confidence in myself. Reminds me of my grandma. If determined to, probably could murder someone, though I don't know why she would commit this murder, at this time.
[[Read the next file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]
[[Eric Wilson's file|Next file]]I like ocean pictures. I'll have to see if I can get one of those paintings.''Melissa Lawrence'' the housekeeper
In her late 30s, has worked as a housekeeper for Mr. Ashbough for 7 years. Previously did secretarial work at a number of offices. Loves to organize and plan things, has a very impressive checklist that she loves to check things off of.
Good friends with the gardener, on hot days they often have lemonade together on the back porch. Very friendly with the neighbor too, and seems to get along well with all the other occupants of the house too: Mr. Ashbough, the daughter, the niece, and the academic.
Has fairly flexible hours. Often leaves early in the afternoon unless Mr. Ashbough is entertaining that night.
Jensen's handwritten note: Told me not to get fresh with her when I asked if she was married. I was not being fresh, by the way. Anyway. She seems like the type to always have an ear to the ground, so she could be helpful.
[[Read yet another file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]
[[Eric Wilson's file|Next file]]
[[Andrea Vanders' file|Open next file]]''Lucille Ashbough'' the daughter
27 years old, has been living with her father in this house for two years. When her parents divorced she lived with her mother in the city until she took a gap year where she traveled--financed by her father--then spent five years at college, did another [[gap]] year, and moved in with her father, supposedly for a quieter life after her years of cosmopoltian, nonstop lifestyle.
Has an on and off relationship with her dad, often butting heads, but they had similarities that kept the relationship alive.
Isn't very close with her cousin, who is from her dad's side of the family, due to spending most of her life with her mother.
Also barely knows her aunt, the eccentric one, because she is also on the dad's side of the family.
Seems to get along fairly well with the academic, though that might just be because he's quieter and she likes having someone to listen to her.
Jensen's handwritten note: Appears to be genuinely upset at her father's death. Doesn't rule her out though, with how she and her father argued according to everyone. She could maybe be feeling remorse, guilt, or is just acting.
[[Second to last file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]
[[Eric Wilson's file|Next file]]
[[Andrea Vanders' file|Open next file]]
[[Melissa Lawrence's file|Read the next file]]Can it be a gap year if it's after you graduate college with no intention of grad school? Shouldn't it be called either a celebration year or an unemployment year instead?
Hmm. Semantics is confusing. I'll stick to solving murders.
[[<<Back|Read yet another file]]''Craig Marshall'' the friend
In his mid 50s, the next richest guy in town besides Ashbough. They were best friends, though it often seemed like they didn't like each other all that much. It's a competitive friendship, each one wanting to be top dog.
Spent a lot of time at the country club with Ashbough, often drinking, gambling, playing cards or pool or golf.
Pretty much gets put up with because he has money. And he owns one of the most important businesses in town.
Unpleasant dude. Likes to get his way, and his way is usually stupid and loudly demanded for.
Jensen's handwritten note: Ugh.
[[Pick up the last file]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]
[[Eric Wilson's file|Next file]]
[[Andrea Vanders' file|Open next file]]
[[Melissa Lawrence's file|Read the next file]]
[[Lucille Ashbough's file|Read yet another file]]''Miriam Alarcon'' the niece
24 years old, has been living in the house for three months. Sent here by her parents for an indefinite stay, supposedly in order to separate her from some people, or more specifically, //someone//.
Very clearly did not want to be sent here, or be here, but has made the best of it it seems.
Has become good friends with the neighbor, often spends most of the days with her at her house. Very friendly relationship with the housekeeper and groundskeeper too. Mildly acquainted to the academic. Distant and complicated relationship with her cousin. Adores her aunt. Generally tries not to interact with her uncle too much, it is very strained.
Jensen's handwritten note: Hard to get a read on. Seems to be in a bit of shock. Possibly feeling guilt? Or the freedom to go back home?
[[Ask Jensen what had been discovered so far]]
[[Let's go talk to them.]]
[[Khalil Gardener's file|Pick up the closest file]]
[[Pamela Cartwright's file|Pick up the next file]]
[[Eric Wilson's file|Next file]]
[[Andrea Vanders' file|Open next file]]
[[Melissa Lawrence's file|Read the next file]]
[[Lucille Ashbough's file|Read yet another file]]
[[Craig Marshall's file|Second to last file]]Look, I'm a detective. I detect things. They're not all going to be useful.
[[<<Back|Let's go talk to them.]] "Well, Ms. Vanders--"
"Oh, please just call me Andrea, detective." She said good-naturedly, as we sat. Jensen sat off to the side, notebook open and pencil ready to take notes.
"Andrea, then. Tell me why you didn't kill Mr. Ashbough."
Andrea gave a surprised laugh. "That's certainly one hell of a way to start. Straight to the point. I like that detective."
I liked her too, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I said nothing, waiting for her to answer my question.
She straightened up seriously. "I did not kill Arthur for several reasons. One, he's not that bad as a neighbor. I've had some //bad// neighbors, let me tell you, and he was not one of them. Sure he wasn't my favorite person but I sure like his household and that niece of his, they're good people. There's nothing he could do to bother me so much as to bring me to murder. Two, as I think you and your people know, I was not in this house at any point on Monday, which your associate here informed us was when the murder happened. I spent all of Monday at my house."
"So what did you do on Monday?"
"I woke up early in the morning, as always. I went for my little morning dip in the ocean, you know, have to keep the body moving, especially at my age. Then I came back in and showered and did my [[hair--which takes some time--]] and made myself a nice big breakfast and then read for the rest of the morning." She leaned forward and lowered her voice as if to share a secret. "And I might've had some catnaps in there too." She continued at normal volume. Then noon came and I had a small lunch. Cleaned up a bit, I took a little walk around my house, waved at Mr. Gardener from across the way, and then I got my paints ready and then dear Miriam came over to visit. She's a great conversationalist, and a great card player. We spent the afternoon together and she stayed for dinner. Then she went back to her uncle's and that was that! Until of course, they found Arthur's body yesterday. It's such a tragedy, quite the [[hulabaloo!]]"
"At what time did Miriam come over? And what time did she leave?"
"Oh it must've been about 1:45ish, I'd say. As for when she left, well it was definitely dark by that time. Sometime after seven maybe, close to eight?"
"Could anyone confirm that you and Miriam spent the whole day at your house?"
"Oh, that is a question you would ask, isn't it?" Andrea laughed. She seemed to be taking this as a novelty. No doubt she'd tell her friends the story of the time //she// was a murder suspect! "Yes, we saw Melissa, Khalil--Mr. Gardener--and Martin! That's our mailman. I'm sure you'll want specifics, with how important details are and all--I know I've read a few detective stories in my days--so we saw Melissa as she was leaving after coming back with the groceries, we waved to her across the way. And we waved to Martin and Khalil too, a couple times, when we were walking around my house. It's very important at my age you know, to not be sedentary, have to be up and moving regularly, or else you'll find yourself unable to move! It happened to some of my dear friends from childhood you know, Scott and Violet, they used to be such athletes, and then they decided sitting was the way to spend their afternoons and evenings and soon enough they had to be pushed around in chairs all the time! Oh, but that's not important to this, I'm so sorry for going off like that, detective, please forgive me."
"You are forgiven." I smiled at her, genuinely. "I think that is all for now, Andrea, but do stick around, I may have follow up questions for you later."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of going anywhere!" She leaned in again, whispering as she stood up, "Nothing this scandalous has happened around here in much too long. I'd hate to miss the excitement!"
And then she was gone. I looked over at Jensen, amused.
"You don't think she would have murdered Ashbough, just for it to be an exciting event nearby, do ya boss?" Jensen asked, looking at the door where Andrea had exited.
"No, I think we can safely say she is not a murder suspect. Just a woman who likes to be around and see and know everything. You've met the type."
"Yeah. You've met my mother. And grandmother. And [[great aunts]]." Jensen shook out of their reverie, standing to go get the next suspect. "Who do you want next boss?"
"Hmm. Let's talk to...the gardener. [[Khalil Gardener]]."
"You got it boss."Yeah, murder's generally not a low key event.
And I have extensive experience.
[[<<Back|interviewing room.]] That was such a fun day down at the precinct. Jensen's family came to visit, unannounced and unexpected. A whole group of busybodies they were, with no sense of boundaries. They were quite charming too. Certainly livened things up.
Jensen had such a tension headache from it all I gave them the next day off.
[[<<Back|interviewing room.]] "Hello, Mr. Gardener. Please take a seat."
"Hello," he said politely, nodding at me. As he sat down, I noticed how relaxed he appeared. Didn't seem at all worried about being a murder suspect.
"Mr. Gardener. Tell me why you didn't kill Mr. Ashbough."
He laughed, throwing his head back. "Feel free to call me Khalil. I'm not fancy. As for why I didn't kill my boss?" He laughed again. "I enjoy my work detective. I like living here, I'm comfortable where I'm at, I'm not too interested in uprooting my life at the moment. Yeah, Ashbough was just alright, I didn't have that much love for him, but I love the job. There's nowhere else around here with as good of grounds, or really any grounds. Unless I want to work at the country club, which, no offense to those that work there, not my thing." He leaned forward earnestly. "My life is here, detective, I wouldn't risk it by murdering my employer. As a rule, I like to be employed and earning money."
"What if Ashbough had fired you, or told you he was going to very soon? Maybe he just got mad one day and took it out on your employment status? Still wouldn't murder him? It'd make sense that whoever would end up owning this house would keep you on as groundkeeper, for simplicity's sake. As long as you got him before he told anyone his plans to fire you, you'd be realtively secure in this ideal life you live. You said so yourself, you're pretty determined to stay where you're at."
Khalil considered this for a moment, leaning back in the chair. "That's a fair point detective. I don't have a real strong argument [[against]] that hypothetical. Though I'm not sure I would trust that risk to work out in my favor. I like to think I'm a cautious man. And a smart one. I always made myself scarce when he got in a temper, no way I'd ever give him the chance to take it out on me."
I nodded. "Walk me through your Monday."
He grinned. "I woke up, went to work, didn't kill my boss, went home, had a nice evening to myself, fell asleep."
"Funny," Jensen commented from off to the side, not looking up from the notebook.
Khalil held up his hands in a placating manner, "Alright, alright. I arrived late morning--my hours are flexible, so it wasn't long before noon. I got to work trimming the shrubs, didn't see anyone for a while. Waved to Andrea once, probably around one o'clock or so? Trimmed my way around to the kitchen door a little while later, see if I could get a snack from Melissa, but it seemed like the whole house was in there having lunch and it was tense, so I went back around to the front. I told you, I make myself scarce. So I'm out front for a bit, and then probably a little after 1:30--I tell time by the sun, and I'm good at it with my job, but it's not an exact thing, you understand--Lucy storms out the front door, brimming anger. I take a step behind one of the shrubs, so I'm not in her way. Not out of sight, but I don't think she saw me, seeing red as she was. Few minutes later, Miriam comes out and heads towards Andrea's. Said Ashbough and Lucy had a heated argument, but she was trying not to pay too much attention, so she didn't know what it was about. By the time she's at Andrea's the front yard gets even more traffic. Melissa comes out with her shopping list, off to the grocery, at the same time as good old Craig comes storming up, even louder and angrier and more puffed up than usual. Melissa tells him Ashbough was in his study, not wanting to be disturbed by anything, but good old Craig don't care, he's steaming and goes straight on in. I bid adieu to Melissa--"
"Could you hear anything when Craig was inside? I know you were outside, but he's not a quiet man."
"That he is not. You got a read on him pretty quick," he chuckled. "But no I didn't really hear anything specific. The mailman was approaching though, so I wasn't really paying attention to good old Craig."
"Do you get your mail here, at this house?"
"No."
"And yet seeing the mailman here was an event?"
"It's always an event. Martin, that's the mailman, he and I are friends. So we were chatting. Then good old Craig comes back out, he was maybe in there for ten minutes, he's still all bothered but less loud about it now. Doesn't even acknowledge us as he stomps away. Not two minutes later, Eric comes out, complaining about how he can't get any studying done with such noise going on--good old Craig must've made a whole fuss, as he always does. That was about it then. Martin stayed with me as I did some of my work. We're the last stop on his route, so he often hangs around when it's nice. Melissa came back maybe an hour later, we helped her unload the groceries, and saw her off. Waved to Andrea and Miriam a few times when they were doing their laps. Then I went home around five and stayed there for the rest of the night."
"What about the mailman?"
"What? What about the mailman?" He looked slightly nervous for the first time. Interesting.
"Did the mailman leave too?"
"Oh! Yes, yeah, he left too."
"Well, thank you for your time, Khalil. You've been very helpful. I do ask that you stay in the house until I give you all permission to go."
"Oh, of course, detective, no problem." He grinned, relaxed again as he left the room.
"We have a basic timeline for everyone, that's pretty good." Jensen said.
"Yeah. You got it all written down?"
"You know it boss!"
"Good job Jensen. Let's hope it's accurate."
"You-you think he might've lied?"
"Not likely, there are a lot of people who could contradict his timeline, but you can never be too sure. We'll have to see if the others confirm what he tells us."
"Right, boss. Makes sense." Jensen paused, thinking about it. "Who do you want me to bring in next?"
[[Melissa Lawrence, the housekeeper. She can probably give us the context we need for that tense lunch Khalil avoided.]]
[[Craig Marshall, the unpleasant man. Let's just get him over with.]]
[[Pamela Cartwright, the eccentric aunt. She should be fun.]]
Point in favor to Khalil Gardener's innocence. Most guilty people will have lies prepared for any which way an accusation could be spun.
The innocent put less thought into it.
[[<<Back|Khalil Gardener]] "So Ms. Lawrence. Why didn't you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"And risk being unemployed? In this economy?"
I looked at Jensen, Jensen looked at me. We nodded. Yeah, that checked out.
"Walk us through what happened on Monday. Start from right before lunch, there was an argument happeneing then?"
"Yes, there were. I was in the kitchen and Mr. Ashbough came in to have his lunch and we talked a little bit--nothing important. Then Miriam came in, getting food for her own lunch. That was a bit awkward, since they had fought the night before, but--"
"Wait, wait, wait." I held up my hand to stop her. "What fight did Ashbough and Miriam have the night before?"
"The same one they've been having since she got here," Melissa said dismissively. "He threatened to deal with it more permanently and she of course yelled back, but he's been threatening that since she came."
Jensen and I both looked at her sharply. "...Deal with her permanently, he said?" Jensen asked.
"Yeah," she replied, way too casually. Then it hit her. "OH. NO, no, no no no no no! Not like that! Not in a death-murder, uh, way. Sorry sorry sorry. No, that is not what he meant."
Jensen and I were still looking at her incrediously. "...Then what did he mean?" I asked.
"Marriage."
"Marriage is permanently dealing with someone?" Jensen's confusion matched mine. "I mean, divorce is always an option. Hell, it's one Ashbough himself used!"
"Uh, well, do you two know why she was sent here?" Melissa asked.
"She was causing trouble for her parents," Jensen instantly supplied.
Melissa leaned forward, clearly delighted that she got to tell them this piece of possibly scandalous information. "No. Her parents sent her to live with her uncle so they could separate her from her girlfriend. I believe they also made sure she has no access to any money."
We all leaned back in our seats, now enlightened. "Ah. The supposed marriage is to a man then?"
"Yes," Melissa said, clearly still happy to share all the gossip. "He's been threatening it since she got here, but from what I heard, it sounds like he decided on [[a man for her to marry]]."
"Who?"
"Eric Wilson, the academic who's been living with us. I know, I know! Crazy. It would never happen though. Miriam might actually run away before she'd agree to that. I was kind of expecting her to run away with her aunt, Pamela Cartwright, when she left town, but I suppose we'll never know now."
"What makes you think that?"
"Oh, nothing. I just think that would be what I would do. I actually just read a book about a young girl who did that, she ran away from home, joined the circus---"
"Sounds fascinating; did Eric Wilson know about this plan?"
"I wouldn't say it was a plan, more of an idea of a plan," Melissa explained. "Eric wouldn't be for it, I'm sure. He lost a chess game to Miriam once and I think that's the extent of their relationship. I also think he's a little bit infautuated with Lucy."
"Oh this is getting good," Jensen said, taking notes fervently.
"I'm not sure Lucy even notices though. Sure, she doesn't mind having him around and him keeping her company, but I don't think she realizes. She's a [[bit of an ice queen]], that one."
"And she was arguing with her father at the lunch?"
"Oh, yes! Let me get there, let me get there! Okay, okay, where was I? Oh, right! So it was awkward with both Mr. Ashbough and Miriam in there, like //real// tense. So Miriam got out of there quick, but I noticed she forgot her glass, and I knew there was no way she was coming back in to get it, so I went to take it to her. Poor dear. When I came back, Eric was getting his lunch together and he and Mr. Ashbough were having a tense argument. The type where they're not quite yelling, but like, their voices are strained and a little raised? It's a very specific tone of voice--I'm sure you know it. So from what I could tell, Mr. Ashbough was trying to subtly bring up the idea of marriage and such, which had freaked Eric out, cause he thought Mr. Ashbough knew about his little crush on Lucy--and well, that's just awkward, he obviously would not want to admit that to Mr. Ashbough. And then it devolved into Mr. Ashbough kind of well, insulting Eric and his research and it was just a whole mess of a conversation."
"What is Eric's research about?" Jensen asked.
"Oh honey, I do not know. He has told me like, a million times probably, and each time, it just goes in one ear and out the other. Something with a lot of long words that sound very similar, I can tell you that."
"That really narrows it down, thanks," I said. "Then what happened?"
"Right! Right, you're keeping me on track, I like that. Well, Lucy then came in, which just made poor Eric completely shut down, but she barely even noticed. Her and Mr. Ashbough go from great to terrible in how they feel about each other, and we were on a four day bad-streak, so she was primed for an argument. They argue about anything from back to the divorce, to the fact that neither of them tried to know each other for so long, to how they treated each other, to money, to how they preferred their fish to be cooked. None of the arguments are about just one thing. On Monday, I think the main topic was money."
"How so?"
"Well," Melissa got a glint in her eye, excited to share even more gossip, "Lucy has been a little worried about him spending it on what she deems to be 'stupid purchases', along with a little waitress at the country club apparently."
"A waitress?" I looked at Jensen. "Should we be talking to a waitress too?"
Jensen suddenly looked very concerned that they might be in trouble. Melissa saved them in the next moment.
"Oh, no need. She's on a a cruise, 'won' the trip, after Lucy pulled a few strings. She's been gone for a week and won't be back for another week. I put her on the boat myself!"
Jensen sighed in relief. "So Lucy was worried about this waitress?"
"Yes, on top of some other purchases Mr. Ashbough makes."
"Like what?"
"Oh, he and Mr. Marshall often go to auctions of weird expensive stuff. They actually just went to one on Saturday! Mr. Ashbough brought back the weirdest looking little statuette. It's old and apparently worth a lot, but I'm just not sure I like it. He liked it though, //actually//, he put it right next to the knife in his study!" She covered her mouth with her hand, looking as if his death had just hit her.
"Ms. Lawrence? Are you okay?" No reply. "Uhm, Melissa?"
She looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry, it just, it...comes in waves, the grief." She fanned herself with her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm good."
"Do you need a break?"
"No, no. Um, so, Lucy and her father were arguing, and it was a yelling argument, and then Lucy just stormed out of the kitchen. Then her father stood up, very done with his meal at that point, and told me that he was going into his study and to not disturb him. And I...saw him go into the study and close the door and then I went to the kitchen, got my shopping list together, and left to go to the store. I said bye to Khalil as I was leaving, and then ran into Mr. Marshall. He demanded to see Mr. Ashbough. I told him he was shut up in his study and didn't want to be disturbed by anybody at all, but Mr. Marshall was determined and he just went in. And I just went on my way to the store."
"Where were Lucy, Miriam, and Eric at this moment? Can you remember?"
"Oh, um, yes, Lucy was walking out the door as her father was walking to his study, Eric had crept up the stairs near the end of Lucy and Mr. Ashbough's argument--likely going up to his room to get some work done and avoid those two. Uh, I don't know where Miriam was after I gave her her glass. I think she might've been at Andrea's at that point."
"Thank you. That's very helpful. Who did you see when you came back?"
"Martin, our mailman, what a doll, he was with Khalil when I came back. They helped me unpack the groceries. We waved to Andrea and Miriam once, when they were out doing the little walks Andrea goes on everyday to stay active. She claims it's the secret to staying young. I didn't see anyone else. And then I left, and went home and had a relaing rest of the day doing absolutely nothing, everything having been accomplished."
"Melissa, I want to thank you, you have been incredibly helpful to us. I just have one last question. Did you like your boss?"
Melissa sat back in her chair, considering. After a minute of thinking, she spoke. "I didn't //dislike// him? I know he was not the greatest person, but he was a pretty good boss, and I didn't dread being in his prescence. It's a good job--//was// a good job, I suppose. That being said, I probably wouldn't like, invite him over for a dinner at my place. Yeah, he wouldn't be on my list of guests. So...I don't know."
I gave her a small smile. "Thank you very much Ms. Lawrence."
"She was helpful," Jensen said, after she left the room. "No way she did it right?"
"Right." I confirmed nodding. "She didn't have an opportunity at any time to pull it off. Also, she'd never take action like murdering someone, she'd just observe everything that goes down and share it around."
"Boss!"
"Am I wrong?"
A pause. [["I'll go find our next interviewee."]]"Alright, let's get this over with and clear me so you can focus on finding the murderer! If you are even capable of that," Craig Marshall entered the room with that statement, looking down his nose at me.
"You keep that kind of talk up, there'll be another murder in this house. And sadly, I'll be just //too// incompetent to solve it."
Craig did look slightly miffed as he sat down, before becoming indignant again. "Was that a threat? Did you just threaten me! You can't do that! I will have your head on a platter in days!"
I turned to Jensen, casually. "Jensen, are you hearing what I heard? I think this murder suspect just threatened to behead me? And then feast on my flesh? Was that right, Craig? That was it, wasn't it? I must say, that cetainly puts him up higher on the suspect list, doesn't it Jensen?"
"Oh yeah. Yeah it does." Jensen's face was //stone//.
Craig's, on the other hand, had turned very red.
I smiled at him. "This is a murder investiagtion. Whatever power or privilege you think you have, you don't have it here. You are nothing more than just another potential murderer. A criminal. So be helpful and maybe I won't arrest you for obstruction of justice at the end of this if you aren't the murderer. Understood Craig?"
He nodded, looking about to burst from anger, but he didn't say anything.
"Good. Why were you angry at Arthur Ashbough on Monday?"
Craig took a deep breath, glaring the whole time, and spoke through clenched teeth. "That traitor outbid me on purpose at the auction."
"Elaborate."
He huffed. "He knew I was after a specific piece, a very rare and valued statuette, and he knew how much I wanted it and how much I could spend and that //asshole// outbid me. On purpose. For fun. Cause he just always had to win."
"This auction was Saturday?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't confront him then?"
"I planned to, but not at the auction. But then I had some drinks to get over the shock of the betrayal, and I was not keeping count of how may drinks."
"Ah. So what happened when you came in Monday afternoon?"
"I had to bang on his study door and yell to get him to answer it, //the bastard//, and we argued."
"And then you stabbed him?"
He rolled his eyes as if he couldn't believe I'd asked such a silly question. "No."
"So what happened?"
"He offered to play me for it."
"Play you for it?" Jensen asked, confused.
"Yeah, over a game of pool, at the country club."
"And you agreed to that?"
Craig smirked. "I'm better than he is at pool. And to win it from him makes it better than if he hands it over cause he doesn't want it anymore. That would still be him winning."
"And where is this statuette now?"
Craig hesitated for a moment, scowling again. "I don't know. Not with me, so it's in the wrong place. The bastard up and dies and I still don't get what I deserve."
"Mhmm. Who did you see when you came to the house?"
"The housekeeper, Ms. Loughton or whatever."
"Ms. Lawrence."
"Probably."
"Anyone else?"
"No. Maybe the groundskeeper. I'm not sure. People like that are just background scenery, practically, who can tell."
I suppressed the very strong urge to punch him. "What did you do after you left this house?"
"Went to the country club, practiced my pool game, had a few drinks, went home around sundown."
"Can anyone confirm that you were in your home after leaving the country club?"
His glare renewed with more force. "No."
"That's all. Stay in the house until we tell you you can leave."
Craig glared for a second more, before getting up and stalking out of the room.
"Hey boss?"
"Yeah?"
"You know how I have like, a general goodwill towards all of humanity?"
I raised an amused eyebrow at Jensen. "Yeah?"
"He makes me reconsider that."
I laughed.
[["Bring in the daughter next, Jensen."]]"Pamela Cartwright, hello. That's quite the outfit you have on."
"Oh thank you detective!" She sat down with a flourish. "I like your suit!"
"Thank you." I leaned forward. "I can't help but notice that you aren't crying, in fact you don't even appear particularly sad at the death of your brother. Is it because you killed him?"
She [[laughed.]] "Oh no, I wouldn't bother. I barely bother to even stay in touch with him." She laughed delightedly again. "I must say, I am so [[honored]] that you think I might've killed him. Imagine!"
"Wholly convincing as that is, I need you to tell me where exactly you were on Monday."
I woke up in my hotel room in town. I breathed in the air, and I felt like there was something sweet in the air--I was going to have a good day, I just knew it! I stretched my arms up over my head, admiring the sun that came in through the window---"
"--Okay, could you summarize it a bit more than that?" Jensen interrupted just before I did. "I don't have enough room in my notebook for all that."
"Of course, sweet pea! I spent the day with my dear friend in town. Her name is Lauren Sanchez. You can find her and ask around town, we spent the day out and about, living our lives to the fullest! We did not even come close to this house, I can promise you that."
Jensen nodded, scribbling it all down. I turned back to Pamela Cartwright, in all her gaudy glory. "I must ask, what was your relationship like with your brother? You visit town and you stay at a hotel rather than in his place, which certainly has enough rooms to accomodate you? Why did you barely bother to talk to him?"
She sighed, more serious and quieter than she had been before. "Detective, I got married young. Not ridiculously young, oh no, just--we had found each other and that was it. We were incandescently happy and couldn't have been more thrilled to be making our life together. And then, within a year, the love of my life died."
"My condolences. That must have been incredibly hard." I felt for her. I've [[lost]] my spouse too.
"Thank you. Yeah, it was rough." She sniffled a bit. I couldn't see Jensen, but I couldn't hear them writing, and knew they were sitting very, very still. "I grieved for a long time. Then I decided I must live my life to the fullest. After that loss though, I could never settle down in any type of permanent home. Not when all my plans of such a home could never be. Instead, I travel all the time. I meet wonderful, exciting, intersting people and go on fantastic adventures. I find my joy when I can. There's a lot of it out there, I've found." She smiled, no doubt at the memories, then sighed. "My siblings...they never understood. Why I live my life the way I live it. Why I can't fit into the mold they had expected me to fill, no matter what. They don't understand and that makes them frustrated and dismissing of me. It wasn't fun to discover that..but, I've made my peace with my relationships with my siblings. Do you follow, detective? I had no reason to murder my brother. It is sad that he is dead, but I am not--as you noted--heartbroken or crying over him. Becasue for me...he stopped being my brother a long time ago."
She left in a flutter, after a long moment of neither Jensen or I saying anything, stunned.
"Yeah, she was super fun," Jensen said softly.
[[Go get Melissa Lawrence next, the housekeeper.]]Her hair did look very nice.
[[<<Back|interviewing room.]] It's really not that hard to get people to laugh.
I get so many people to laugh so often, I would kill it as a comedian.
[[<<Back|Pamela Cartwright, the eccentric aunt. She should be fun.]] In the [[grocery]] store."So Ms. Lawrence. Why didn't you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"And risk being unemployed? In this economy?"
I looked at Jensen, Jensen looked at me. We nodded. Yeah, that checked out.
"Walk us through what happened on Monday. Start from right before lunch, there was an argument happeneing then?"
"Yes, there were. I was in the kitchen and Mr. Ashbough came in to have his lunch and we talked a little bit--nothing important. Then Miriam came in, getting food for her own lunch. That was a bit awkward, since they had fought the night before, but--"
"Wait, wait, wait." I held up my hand to stop her. "What fight did Ashbough and Miriam have the night before?"
"The same one they've been having since she got here," Melissa said dismissively. "He threatened to deal with it more permanently and she of course yelled back, but he's been threatening that since she came."
Jensen and I both looked at her sharply. "...Deal with her permanently, he said?" Jensen asked.
"Yeah," she replied, way too casually. Then it hit her. "OH. NO, no, no no no no no! Not like that! Not in a death-murder, uh, way. Sorry sorry sorry. No, that is not what he meant."
Jensen and I were still looking at her incrediously. "...Then what did he mean?" I asked.
"Marriage."
"Marriage is permanently dealing with someone?" Jensen's confusion matched mine. "I mean, divorce is always an option. Hell, it's one Ashbough himself used!"
"Uh, well, do you two know why she was sent here?" Melissa asked.
"She was causing trouble for her parents," Jensen instantly supplied.
Melissa leaned forward, clearly delighted that she got to tell them this piece of possibly scandalous information. "No. Her parents sent her to live with her uncle so they could separate her from her girlfriend. I believe they also made sure she has no access to any money."
We all leaned back in our seats, now enlightened. "Ah. The supposed marriage is to a man then?"
"Yes," Melissa said, clearly still happy to share all the gossip. "He's been threatening it since she got here, but from what I heard, it sounds like he decided on a man for her to [[marry]]."
"Who?"
"Eric Wilson, the academic who's been living with us. I know, I know! Crazy. It would never happen though. Miriam might actually run away before she'd agree to that. I was kind of expecting her to run away with her aunt, Pamela Cartwright, when she left town, but I suppose we'll never know now."
"What makes you think that?"
"Oh, nothing. I just think that would be what I would do. I actually just read a book about a young girl who did that, she ran away from home, joined the circus---"
"Sounds fascinating; did Eric Wilson know about this plan?"
"I wouldn't say it was a plan, more of an idea of a plan," Melissa explained. "Eric wouldn't be for it, I'm sure. He lost a chess game to Miriam once and I think that's the extent of their relationship. I also think he's a little bit infautuated with Lucy."
"Oh this is getting good," Jensen said, taking notes fervently.
"I'm not sure Lucy even notices though. Sure, she doesn't mind having him around and him keeping her company, but I don't think she realizes. She's a bit of an [[ice queen]], that one."
"And she was arguing with her father at the lunch?"
"Oh, yes! Let me get there, let me get there! Okay, okay, where was I? Oh, right! So it was awkward with both Mr. Ashbough and Miriam in there, like //real// tense. So Miriam got out of there quick, but I noticed she forgot her glass, and I knew there was no way she was coming back in to get it, so I went to take it to her. Poor dear. When I came back, Eric was getting his lunch together and he and Mr. Ashbough were having a tense argument. The type where they're not quite yelling, but like, their voices are strained and a little raised? It's a very specific tone of voice--I'm sure you know it. So from what I could tell, Mr. Ashbough was trying to subtly bring up the idea of marriage and such, which had freaked Eric out, cause he thought Mr. Ashbough knew about his little crush on Lucy--and well, that's just awkward, he obviously would not want to admit that to Mr. Ashbough. And then it devolved into Mr. Ashbough kind of well, insulting Eric and his research and it was just a whole mess of a conversation."
"What is Eric's research about?" Jensen asked.
"Oh honey, I do not know. He has told me like, a million times probably, and each time, it just goes in one ear and out the other. Something with a lot of long words that sound very similar, I can tell you that."
"That really narrows it down, thanks," I said. "Then what happened?"
"Right! Right, you're keeping me on track, I like that. Well, Lucy then came in, which just made poor Eric completely shut down, but she barely even noticed. Her and Mr. Ashbough go from great to terrible in how they feel about each other, and we were on a four day bad-streak, so she was primed for an argument. They argue about anything from back to the divorce, to the fact that neither of them tried to know each other for so long, to how they treated each other, to money, to how they preferred their fish to be cooked. None of the arguments are about just one thing. On Monday, I think the main topic was money."
"How so?"
"Well," Melissa got a glint in her eye, excited to share even more gossip, "Lucy has been a little worried about him spending it on what she deems to be 'stupid purchases', along with a little waitress at the country club apparently."
"A waitress?" I looked at Jensen. "Should we be talking to a waitress too?"
Jensen suddenly looked very concerned that they might be in trouble. Melissa saved them in the next moment.
"Oh, no need. She's on a a cruise, 'won' the trip, after Lucy pulled a few strings. She's been gone for a week and won't be back for another week. I put her on the boat myself!"
Jensen sighed in relief. "So Lucy was worried about this waitress?"
"Yes, on top of some other purchases Mr. Ashbough makes."
"Like what?"
"Oh, he and Mr. Marshall often go to auctions of weird expensive stuff. They actually just went to one on Saturday! Mr. Ashbough brought back the weirdest looking little statuette. It's old and apparently worth a lot, but I'm just not sure I like it. He liked it though, //actually//, he put it right next to the knife in his study!" She covered her mouth with her hand, looking as if his death had just hit her.
"Ms. Lawrence? Are you okay?" No reply. "Uhm, Melissa?"
She looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry, it just, it...comes in waves, the grief." She fanned herself with her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm good."
"Do you need a break?"
"No, no. Um, so, Lucy and her father were arguing, and it was a yelling argument, and then Lucy just stormed out of the kitchen. Then her father stood up, very done with his meal at that point, and told me that he was going into his study and to not disturb him. And I...saw him go into the study and close the door and then I went to the kitchen, got my shopping list together, and left to go to the store. I said bye to Khalil as I was leaving, and then ran into Mr. Marshall. He demanded to see Mr. Ashbough. I told him he was shut up in his study and didn't want to be disturbed by anybody at all, but Mr. Marshall was determined and he just went in. And I just went on my way to the store."
"Where were Lucy, Miriam, and Eric at this moment? Can you remember?"
"Oh, um, yes, Lucy was walking out the door as her father was walking to his study, Eric had crept up the stairs near the end of Lucy and Mr. Ashbough's argument--likely going up to his room to get some work done and avoid those two. Uh, I don't know where Miriam was after I gave her her glass. I think she might've been at Andrea's at that point."
"Thank you. That's very helpful. Who did you see when you came back?"
"Martin, our mailman, what a doll, he was with Khalil when I came back. They helped me unpack the groceries. We waved to Andrea and Miriam once, when they were out doing the little walks Andrea goes on everyday to stay active. She claims it's the secret to staying young. I didn't see anyone else. And then I left, and went home and had a relaing rest of the day doing absolutely nothing, everything having been accomplished."
"Melissa, I want to thank you, you have been incredibly helpful to us. I just have one last question. Did you like your boss?"
Melissa sat back in her chair, considering. After a minute of thinking, she spoke. "I didn't //dislike// him? I know he was not the greatest person, but he was a pretty good boss, and I didn't dread being in his prescence. It's a good job--//was// a good job, I suppose. That being said, I probably wouldn't like, invite him over for a dinner at my place. Yeah, he wouldn't be on my list of guests. So...I don't know."
I gave her a small smile. "Thank you very much Ms. Lawrence."
"She was helpful," Jensen said, after she left the room. "No way she did it right?"
"Right." I confirmed nodding. "She didn't have an opportunity at any time to pull it off. Also, she'd never take action like murdering someone, she'd just observe everything that goes down and share it around."
"Boss!"
"Am I wrong?"
A pause. [["I'll go get the next suspect."]]Where all the aisles are [[labeled!]]Granted, they had recently reorganized the layout of the store, but, still. There are [[signs]], sweetheart!It was a very harrowing five minutes.
[[<<Back|Pamela Cartwright, the eccentric aunt. She should be fun.]] Oh no. I hope it's not [[Craig]].
[[<<Back|Go get Melissa Lawrence next, the housekeeper.]] The murder might be justifiable then.
[[<<Back|Go get Melissa Lawrence next, the housekeeper.]] The last time someone was described as an 'ice queen' in one of my murder investigations, the 'ice queen' did turn out to be the murderer. She'd killed with, unsurprisingly, an ice pick.
The time before that, it was a kid who couldn't quite pronounce 'ice cream'.
And it did turn out that the ice cream man was the murderer in that case.
[[<<Back|Go get Melissa Lawrence next, the housekeeper.]] Apparently it is good and healthy to acknowledge and accept your partner's weaknesses, so I gotta say: the love of my life has absolutely no goddamn sense of [[direction.]]"Eric Wilson, please, have a seat."
He sat down silently, looking nervous. He fidgeted with his sleeves.
"Tell me what happened Monday, if you please Mr. Wilson."
"Mr. Ashbough was murdered."
"What did you do on Monday, Mr. Wilson?"
"Sorry, I just thought you were referring to, uh, to, I just can't stop... seeing it in my mind. Sorry." He whispered.
[["First]] dead body Mr. Wilson?"
"Uh, yeah. Yes, very, very much so. I had //just// seen him, and now he's, he's--"
"Dead," Jensen helpfully supplied.
"Yeah," Eric said, drawing in a shaky breath.
"Why don't you tell us about your research, Mr. Wilson?"
He nodded and started talking. He was not great at explaining it, I almost immediately understood why no one really knew what he was doing. He just assumed everyone would know what all the words meant. Even eager, well-meaning Jensen who loves to learn was getting a bit glassy-eyed after a few minutes. But it worked. Eric's voice got stronger and he stopped obsessing about seeing a dead body.
"You certainly are very passionate, Mr. Wilson, I commend you on that," I eventually interrupted after what must've been five minutes. "Can you tell me what you did Monday?"
"I spent a quiet morning reading, and then when I went down for lunch, Mr. Ashbough was there--in a weird mood--and we had a really weird conversation, it felt a lot like an argument but I didn't want to argue and I also didn't really know what it was about, it was just very strange. And then Lucille came in, and she and her father began arguing and yelling and I did not like being caught there in the room but I couldn't figure out how to get out, so I just slowly tried to make my way to the door. And then I was just starting up the steps when Lucille left the kitchen, very upset. And then Mr. Ashbough and Ms. Lawrence came out too and Mr. Ashbough declared he was not to be disturbed in his study until he said so. So I went up to my room and tried to do more reading. But it wasn't ten minutes before that Mr. Marshall came in yelling and making a racket and I just needed to get out of the house. So I went to the library in town and stayed there for a while and as I was leaving I ran into Lucille and we had dinner together in town," he smiled a little, "and we walked back together and she walked me up to my room and said goodnight and that she would go check on her dad and then go to sleep too."
"Lucy went to check on her dad in the evening? What happened? Did she see him? Was he alive at that point?"
"Ah, I don't, I don't know. I fell asleep almost immediately after she left, and I didn't ask the next morning and then well, then there was a dead body and I didn't think, I didn't think to ask, I should've asked, how could I have forgotten that---"
"It's totally understandable that you didn't remember to ask, what with seeing your first dead body and all. Don't worry about it. Did you hear anything before you fell asleep?"
"No. No, Lucille is very quiet when going around, not like that Mr. Marshall, I could ceratinly hear him when he knocked on the study door. He is always so loud, it is rude."
"Yes, he ceratinly is. What exactly did you hear when Mr. Marshall went to the study Monday afternoon?"
"Oh, he came in very loudly, stomping and yelling for Mr. Ashbough. He knocked very loudly on the study door, demanding Mr. Ashbough to open up, and that he had wronged him, and other things I couldn't quite hear. I was trying to block out his noise. I think Mr. Ashbough did open the door for him, cause it got less loud, and then I think it got even quieter and then Mr. Marshall left, still loud, but not rampaging like when he entered. But the peace and quiet in my room had already been disturbed, so I packed up my materials and left for the library."
"Did you look into the study as you left? Did you hear anyhing? Could you tell if Mr. Ashbough was alive in there?"
"Mm, no. The door was closed."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson, that's very helpful. I hate to ask this, but I must: Did you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"No, no no, I did not, I would not kill anyone, no one, not Mr. Ashbough, not even loud Mr. Marshall, no. I couldn't kill anyone! And if I killed Mr. Ashbough then I might have to go back to studying and researching in noisy places if I can't stay here--I might have to go anyway! Since he is dead, oh no, that is bad, why didn't I think of that before, oh no, oh no no no, I've been doing so well here--"
"Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson! I am sure that Miss Ashbough will ber very willing to let you [[stay]] here for as long as you like, please stop freaking out."
He took deep breaths, steadying himself, though he was still shaking a little.
"Mr. Wilson, you have been very helpful. I know it's a bad time right now, but you did great, thank you."
He was at the door when Jensen called out, "Oh, Eric, uh Mr. Wilson, just one last thing, I promise."
"Yes?"
"Did you see Miriam at any point on Monday?"
"Uh...oh yes! I passed her on her way out of the kitchen as I was heading in for lunch. And she was in the hallway outside of it, I think until around when Lucille came to the kitchen. I did not see her again after that. I think she probably went to Ms. Vanders's."
"Right. Thank you again."
"Good catch Jensen."
Jensen beamed, then tried to hide it by ducking behind the notes.
"I think," I sighed, "I think we have to interview Mr. Craig Marshall now."
[[Jensen groaned.]]The first dead body is really tough. Honestly, even the tenth one is tough.
The trick is to start young. Go to all the funerals and viewings you can when you're still a child. And then it doesn't bother you anymore once you're an adult! Problem solved!
[[<<Back|"I'll go get the next suspect."]] Yeah, she was fun.
[[<<Back|Pamela Cartwright, the eccentric aunt. She should be fun.]] Unless, of course, she turns out to be the murderer. Which is quite probable at this point.
[[<<Back|"I'll go get the next suspect."]]"Alright, let's get this over with and clear me so you can focus on finding the murderer! If you are even capable of that," Craig Marshall entered the room with that statement, looking down his nose at me.
"You keep that kind of talk up, there'll be another murder in this house. And sadly, I'll be just //too// incompetent to solve it."
Craig did look slightly miffed as he sat down, before becoming indignant again. "Was that a threat? Did you just threaten me! You can't do that! I will have your head on a platter in days!"
I turned to Jensen, casually. "Jensen, are you hearing what I heard? I think this murder suspect just threatened to behead me? And then feast on my flesh? Was that right, Craig? That was it, wasn't it? I must say, that cetainly puts him up higher on the suspect list, doesn't it Jensen?"
"Oh yeah. Yeah it does." Jensen's face was //stone//.
Craig's, on the other hand, had turned very red.
I smiled at him. "This is a murder investiagtion. Whatever power or privilege you think you have, you don't have it here. You are nothing more than just another potential murderer. A criminal. So be helpful and maybe I won't arrest you for obstruction of justice at the end of this if you aren't the murderer. Understood Craig?"
He nodded, looking about to burst from anger, but he didn't say anything.
"Good. Why were you angry at Arthur Ashbough on Monday?"
Craig took a deep breath, glaring the whole time, and spoke through clenched teeth. "That traitor outbid me on purpose at the auction."
"Elaborate."
He huffed. "He knew I was after a specific piece, a very rare and valued statuette, and he knew how much I wanted it and how much I could spend and that //asshole// outbid me. On purpose. For fun. Cause he just always had to win."
"This auction was Saturday?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't confront him then?"
"I planned to, but not at the auction. But then I had some drinks to get over the shock of the betrayal, and I was not keeping count of how may drinks."
"Ah. So what happened when you came in Monday afternoon?"
"I had to bang on his study door and yell to get him to answer it, the bastard, and we argued."
"And then you stabbed him?"
He rolled his eyes as if he couldn't believe I'd asked such a silly question. "No."
"So what happened?"
"He offered to play me for it."
"Play you for it?" Jensen asked, confused.
"Yeah, over a game of pool, at the country club."
"And you agreed to that?"
Craig smirked. "I'm better than he is at pool. And to win it from him makes it better than if he hands it over cause he doesn't want it anymore. That would still be him winning."
"And where is this statuette now?"
Craig hesitated for a moment, scowling again. "I don't know. Not with me, so it's in the wrong place. The bastard up and dies and I still don't get what I deserve."
"Mhmm. Who did you see when you came to the house?"
"The housekeeper, Ms. Loughton or whatever."
"Ms. Lawrence."
"Probably."
"Anyone else?"
"No. Maybe the groundskeeper. I'm not sure. People like that are just background scenery, practically, who can tell."
I suppressed the very strong urge to punch him. "What did you do after you left this house?"
"Went to the country club, practiced my pool game, had a few drinks, went home around sundown."
"Can anyone confirm that you were in your home after leaving the country club?"
His glare renewed with more force. "No."
"That's all. Stay in the house until we tell you you can leave."
Craig glared for a second more, before getting up and stalking out of the room.
"Hey boss?"
"Yeah?"
"You know how I have like, a general goodwill towards all of humanity?"
I raised an amused eyebrow at Jensen. "Yeah?"
"He makes me reconsider that."
I laughed. As I laughed, something caught my eye out the window. "Jensen. Get the mailman in here."
"Boss?" Jensen followed my line of sight out the window towards the approaching mailman.
"He comes by everyday. See if he noticed anything, or at the very least, have him confirm the groundskeeper's story."
"You got it boss."
"I'll interview another one of our suspects, and we'll regroup after that. Good?"
[["Sure thing, boss."]]
"Miss Ashbough, you have my sympathy. It must be hard, losing your father."
She sniffled, wiping her tears with her hankerchief. "I just can't believe he's [[dead]]!"
"Yes, loss is difficult to process. I only want to take a few minutes of your time, Miss Ashbough."
"Please don't call me that right now! Lucy will do."
"Alright Lucy. Walk me through what happened Monday."
She took a deep breath and when she began her voice barely shook. "I slept in and didn't see my father until lunch. I was angry at him. He went to one of those stupid auctions and bought that stupid little statue for way more than he should have. He spends his money very irresponsibly. As soon as I saw him, I started in on him, all his stupid purchases and we yelled. I was seeing red. My father and I had a lot of fights, I'll admit. But I didn't want him dead!"
"Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why didn't you want him dead?"
"Wha-//he's my father//!"
I raised my eyebrows at her. I had seen a lot of cases where people killed their [[fathers.]]
She shook her head at me. "We fought a lot, but we were very similar in a lot of ways. I am who I am partially because of him. He's my dad. I...I don't really know how else to [[say it]]. I wouldn't kill him."
"Tell me, what prompted you to move in with your father two years ago? You hadn't lived with him in well over a decade."
"That was it. I wanted to get to know my father." She shrugged. "Besides, I had been living quite the whirlwind life for a while, and I wanted some quiet."
"Any intention to go back to the whirlwind anytime soon?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I'll definitely need the distraction now, I suppose."
"What happened after you stormed out of the argument with your father on Monday?"
"I went and had lunch in town. I had been too busy yelling to eat here. Then I went to the shops and wasted time, until I felt less angry. As I was about to head home, I came across Eric. We decided to have dinner together in town, and then we walked back to the house. I bid him goodnight at his door, before going down to see if I coul talk to my father before I went to bed myself."
"What did you want to talk to your father about?"
"The same thing as before. That stupid statue. But I was going to //try// and be civil, rather than yell, see if I could convince him that way. So I went down and knocked on the study door, but he didn't answer."
"Was the door locked?"
"I don't know. I didn't barge in, I was //trying// to be civil. Then I called him immature and spiteful for not answering me." She drew in a heavy, shaky breath. "He was probably already dead and I didn't even know it!"
I nodded sympathetically. "And then you left?"
She gulped, wiping more tears with her hankerchief. "No. I told him I was going to give him one minute, and if he still didn't answer, I was coming in there."
"But you didn't go in?"
"I was about to, but then Miriam came in through the front door. She saw me and asked if he was still being argumentative and grouchy. Of course, I thought he was. She told me I should probably let him sleep on it, so he'd be in a better mood in the morning. I agreed. He likes to be left alone before he sleeps. So Miriam and I went up to bed."
"Did you fall asleep right away? Did you hear anything else in the house?"
"No I stayed awake for some time. I heard Miriam go to bed, and then it was all silent."
"Could you tell me where this statue you were arguing about is?"
"Yeah, in his study. He displayed that ridiculous thing right next to the knife in his study." She inhaled shakily, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Alright. Thank you very much Lucy. You've been very helpful. I just have one last question. When you and Ms. Lawrence entered the study and found your father's body, was the door locked or unlocked?"
"Unlocked."
"Thank you. You may go back to the other room now."
After she left, I went and peeked into the study. No statuette.
Jensen was in the interviewing room when I got back. "The mailman confirms the groundskeeper's story. Nothing new. What'd you learn, boss?"
"I think I have this almost narrowed down. But I have one last interview to do, and I need confirmation on a few things before I can in good legal standing rule out everyone I'm considering innocent." I thought for a second, before standing up. "Jensen, I need you to go into town. Go talk to Pamela Cartwright's friend, Lauren Sanchez. And see if you can get other eyewitnesses to place Craig at the country club, Eric at the library, Melissa at the grocery, and Lucy just around town that afternoon. And see if anyone spotted any of the ones who don't live in this house going to their own homes in the evening."
"I got it. I'll be back as fast as I can boss."
"Oh, and one more thing Jensen." I shared my suspicion, then headed to the room full of suspects to get [[Miriam Alarcon.]]
Yeah, crazy how that [[happens.]]Someone gets knifed in the back and then, boom, they're dead.
[[Wild.|"Sure thing, boss."]] A lot.
At least 15.
[[<<Back|"Sure thing, boss."]] Something along the lines of: 'I loved him! I couldn't have killed my dad!'
Just saying.
[[<<Back|"Sure thing, boss."]] "I didn't kill my uncle."
"Good to know. Why not?"
"I can't afford a lawyer right now."
"Was that the only thing holding you back?"
"No. I also don't think I could murder someone."
"Most people don't think they can, until things get desperate, [[and then they do."]]
Miriam leaned back in her chair. "I've been in a desperate situation for a few months. Why would I resort to murder now?"
I mimicked her, leaning back in my chair, as if we were having a casual chat. I shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up. But I happen to know that it has recently gotten a little more desperate for you, hasn't it?"
Miriam glared at the wall, crossing her arms. "No way my uncle would've been able to pull it off. I don't think he had any willing participants. A person can't be forced into a marriage."
"As much as I hate to say it, that's not completely true." She looked at me, intrigued. I shrugged.
"Where did you go Monday after you left the kitchen?"
I went into the room next to it, the 'east sitting room'. Finishe my lunch there, and then took off to Andrea's after I saw Lucy storm out. Forgot about my dishes in there until Tuesday morning."
"And no one saw you while you were in there?"
"No. I was sitting out of sight of the door, and it's not a room anyone spends much time in."
"Then you came back after having dinner with Andrea."
"Yeah. And I saw Lucy at the study door, trying to get her dad to talk to her."
"And you talked her out of opening the door and going into the study?"
"That's right. I was tired and just wanted to sleep. I can't sleep if those two are trying to bite each other's heads off. So I got her to leave him be and go to bed. So we went up and that was it."
I nodded, thinking for a moment. "What will you do, now that your uncle's dead?"
"That's something I'm trying to figure out. I don't want to go back to my parents, but I think I need to go back there at least for a visit and hope they can't trap me again. I gotta get some money and my girl."
"And then what?"
"Well, Andrea's offered to let me stay with her, so I'll probably be there, until we figure something else out, or decide to stay."
"While you were at Andrea's, and going out on those walks around her house, you saw the groundskeeper, mailman, and housekeeper at one or more points yes?"
"Yeah, we waved to them a couple times. To answer what you're about to ask, no they weren't acting suspicious and no, we didn't see anyone else."
I nodded one more time, standing up. "Thank you Miss Alarcon. You've been helpful. I hope things work out for you."
"I do too, detective. I do too."
I walked with her back to the room with all the suspects. Jensen would likely gone for some time longer. "Andrea?" I asked, "Will you accompany me on a little walk?"
"Of course detective," she helped herself to my arm as we headed towards the front door. "Where are we headed?"
"I'd like to see your ocean paintings. I'm quite a fan of ocean paintings."
"How lovely! It's about time for me to do the one for today anyway! [[Come along!"]]I would know.
[[<<Back|Miriam Alarcon.]]I came back to the Ashbough house with an ocean painting to take home. As I reached the door, I spotted Jensen on his way back. "Andrea, I'm going to wait for my associate here. You go back in with all the others."
She gave me a grandmotherly pat on my arm and went inside.
"Jensen! What'd you learn?"
"We've got ourselves a murderer!"
I smiled. "I had thought we might. Tell me what else you learned, before you tell me the identity of the [[murderer."]]
"I learned lots of things! Hmm, what first? Oh! Lauren Sanchez is a very good friend of Pamela Cartwright. Pamela sends her letters and postcards all the time, and came to town specifically to visit her. They spent the whole day together Monday, which several townspeople confirmed. No way she killed Ashbough."
"Good to know she's definitely cleared. What else?"
"Well boss, Lauren Sanchez is an aviator! It was so fascinating, she showed me her plane and everything! She has her own plane!"
[[I smiled.]] "How fun. About the case though Jensen, anything else about that?"
"Oh! Right! Eyewitnesses confirmed the locations of everyone, exactly where they said they were, generally at about the right times. No one could say for sure whether Khalil, Melissa, or Craig stayed in their homes all night, but they were all headed in those directions early evening and then weren't seen until the next day. So I think it's pretty safe to say none of them came back to murder Mr. Ashbough after going home. Right?"
"That's very good Jensen." Jensen beamed. "Now how about you show me the statue?"
Jensen presented the statuette to me, grinning broadly. "Found in Craig Marshall's home just like you suspected! Ugly thing, isn't it?"
"Horrendous."
"Yeah, I can't imagine killing over it. But, you know, rich people always have the worst taste."
"They certainly do. We have proof of that right here."
"Ugh, I just can't imagine even spending pennies on this thing. Except maybe as a joke gift. Or if I really hated the person." It was a truly ugly little thing.
"Alright, Jensen. Ready to [[go unveil a murderer?"]]"Miss Ashbough, you have my sympathy. It must be hard, losing your father."
She sniffled, wiping her tears with her hankerchief. "I just can't believe [[he's dead]]!"
"Yes, loss is difficult to process. I only want to take a few minutes of your time, Miss Ashbough."
"Please don't call me that right now! Lucy will do."
"Alright Lucy. Walk me through what happened Monday."
She took a deep breath and when she began her voice barely shook. "I slept in and didn't see my father until lunch. I was angry at him. He went to one of those stupid auctions and bought that stupid little statue for way more than he should have. He spends his money very irresponsibly. As soon as I saw him, I started in on him, all his stupid purchases and we yelled. I was seeing red. My father and I had a lot of fights, I'll admit. But I didn't want him dead!"
"Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why didn't you want him dead?"
"Wha-//he's my father//!"
I raised my eyebrows at her. I had seen a lot of cases where people killed [[their fathers.]]
She shook her head at me. "We fought a lot, but we were very similar in a lot of ways. I am who I am partially because of him. He's my dad. I...I don't really know [[how else to say it]]. I wouldn't kill him."
"Tell me, what prompted you to move in with your father two years ago? You hadn't lived with him in well over a decade."
"That was it. I wanted to get to know my father." She shrugged. "Besides, I had been living quite the whirlwind life for a while, and I wanted some quiet."
"Any intention to go back to the whirlwind anytime soon?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I'll definitely need the distraction now, I suppose."
"What happened after you stormed out of the argument with your father on Monday?"
"I went and had lunch in town. I had been too busy yelling to eat here. Then I went to the shops and wasted time, until I felt less angry. As I was about to head home, I came across Eric. We decided to have dinner together in town, and then we walked back to the house. I bid him goodnight at his door, before going down to see if I coul talk to my father before I went to bed myself."
"What did you want to talk to your father about?"
"The same thing as before. That stupid statue. But I was going to //try// and be civil, rather than yell, see if I could convince him that way. So I went down and knocked on the study door, but he didn't answer."
"Was the door locked?"
"I don't know. I didn't barge in, I was //trying// to be civil. Then I called him immature and spiteful for not answering me." She drew in a heavy, shaky breath. "He was probably already dead and I didn't even know it!"
I nodded sympathetically. "And then you left?"
She gulped, wiping more tears with her hankerchief. "Yes, I went up to bed."
"Did you fall asleep right away? Did you hear anything else in the house?"
"No I stayed awake for some time. It was all silent."
"Could you tell me where this statue you were arguing about is?"
"Yeah, in his study. He displayed that ridiculous thing right next to the knife in his study." She inhaled shakily, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Alright. Thank you very much Lucy. You've been very helpful. I just have one last question. When you and Ms. Lawrence entered the study and found your father's body, was the door locked or unlocked?"
"Unlocked."
"Thank you. You may go back to the other room now."
[["Jensen, bring in Eric Wilson now."]]"Eric Wilson, please, have a seat."
He sat down silently, looking nervous. He fidgeted with his sleeves.
"Tell me what happened Monday, if you please Mr. Wilson."
"Mr. Ashbough was murdered."
"What did you do on Monday, Mr. Wilson?"
"Sorry, I just thought you were referring to, uh, to, I just can't stop... seeing it in my mind. Sorry." He whispered.
[["First dead body]] Mr. Wilson?"
"Uh, yeah. Yes, very, very much so. I had //just// seen him, and now he's, he's--"
"Dead," Jensen helpfully supplied.
"Yeah," Eric said, drawing in a shaky breath.
"Why don't you tell us about your research, Mr. Wilson?"
He nodded and started talking. He was not great at explaining it, I almost immediately understood why no one really knew what he was doing. He just assumed everyone would know what all the words meant. Even eager, well-meaning Jensen who loves to learn was getting a bit glassy-eyed after a few minutes. But it worked. Eric's voice got stronger and he stopped obsessing about seeing a dead body.
"You certainly are very passionate, Mr. Wilson, I commend you on that," I eventually interrupted after what must've been five minutes. "Can you tell me what you did Monday?"
"I spent a quiet morning reading, and then when I went down for lunch, Mr. Ashbough was there--in a weird mood--and we had a really weird conversation, it felt a lot like an argument but I didn't want to argue and I also didn't really know what it was about, it was just very strange. And then Lucille came in, and she and her father began arguing and yelling and I did not like being caught there in the room but I couldn't figure out how to get out, so I just slowly tried to make my way to the door. And then I was just starting up the steps when Lucille left the kitchen, very upset. And then Mr. Ashbough and Ms. Lawrence came out too and Mr. Ashbough declared he was not to be disturbed in his study until he said so. So I went up to my room and tried to do more reading. But it wasn't ten minutes before that Mr. Marshall came in yelling and making a racket and I just needed to get out of the house. So I went to the library in town and stayed there for a while and as I was leaving I ran into Lucille and we had dinner together in town," he smiled a little, "and we walked back together and she walked me up to my room and said goodnight and that she would go check on her dad and then go to sleep too."
"Lucy went to check on her dad in the evening? What happened? Did she see him? Was he alive at that point?"
"Ah, I don't, I don't know. I fell asleep almost immediately after she left, and I didn't ask the next morning and then well, then there was a dead body and I didn't think, I didn't think to ask, I should've asked, how could I have forgotten that---"
"It's totally understandable that you didn't remember to ask, what with seeing your first dead body and all. Don't worry about it. Did you hear anything before you fell asleep?"
"No. No, Lucille is very quiet when going around, not like that Mr. Marshall, I could ceratinly hear him when he knocked on the study door. He is always so loud, it is rude."
"Yes, he ceratinly is. What exactly did you hear when Mr. Marshall went to the study Monday afternoon?"
"Oh, he came in very loudly, stomping and yelling for Mr. Ashbough. He knocked very loudly on the study door, demanding Mr. Ashbough to open up, and that he had wronged him, and other things I couldn't quite hear. I was trying to block out his noise. I think Mr. Ashbough did open the door for him, cause it got less loud, they were arguing in the study then I think, and then Mr. Marshall left, still loud, but not rampaging like when he entered. But the peace and quiet in my room had already been disturbed, so I packed up my materials and left for the library."
"Did you look into the study as you left? Did you hear anyhing? Could you tell if Mr. Ashbough was alive in there?"
"Mm, no. The door was closed."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson, that's very helpful. I hate to ask this, but I must: Did you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"No, no no, I did not, I would not kill anyone, no one, not Mr. Ashbough, not even loud Mr. Marshall, no. I couldn't kill anyone! And if I killed Mr. Ashbough then I might have to go back to studying and researching in noisy places if I can't stay here--I might have to go anyway! Since he is dead, oh no, that is bad, why didn't I think of that before, oh no, oh no no no, I've been doing so well here--"
"Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson! I am sure that Miss Ashbough will ber very willing to let you [[stay here]] for as long as you like, please stop freaking out."
He took deep breaths, steadying himself, though he was still shaking a little.
"Mr. Wilson, you have been very helpful. I know it's a bad time right now, but you did great, thank you."
He was at the door when Jensen called out, "Oh, Eric, uh Mr. Wilson, just one last thing, I promise."
"Yes?"
"Did you see Miriam at any point on Monday?"
"Uh...oh yes! I passed her on her way out of the kitchen as I was heading in for lunch. And she was in the hallway outside of it, I think until around when Lucille came to the kitchen. I did not see her again after that. I think she probably went to Ms. Vanders's."
"Right. Thank you again."
"Good catch Jensen."
Jensen beamed, standing up quickly to try and hide it. [["I'll go get the next person, boss.]]"So Ms. Lawrence. Why didn't you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"And risk being unemployed? In this economy?"
I looked at Jensen, Jensen looked at me. We nodded. Yeah, that checked out.
"Walk us through what happened on Monday. Start from right before lunch, there was an argument happeneing then?"
"Yes, there were. I was in the kitchen and Mr. Ashbough came in to have his lunch and we talked a little bit--nothing important. Then Miriam came in, getting food for her own lunch. That was a bit awkward, since they had fought the night before, but--"
"Wait, wait, wait." I held up my hand to stop her. "What fight did Ashbough and Miriam have the night before?"
"The same one they've been having since she got here," Melissa said dismissively. "He threatened to deal with it more permanently and she of course yelled back, but he's been threatening that since she came."
Jensen and I both looked at her sharply. "...Deal with her permanently, he said?" Jensen asked.
"Yeah," she replied, way too casually. Then it hit her. "OH. NO, no, no no no no no! Not like that! Not in a death-murder, uh, way. Sorry sorry sorry. No, that is not what he meant."
Jensen and I were still looking at her incrediously. "...Then what did he mean?" I asked.
"Marriage."
"Marriage is permanently dealing with someone?" Jensen's confusion matched mine. "I mean, divorce is always an option. Hell, it's one Ashbough himself used!"
"Uh, well, do you two know why she was sent here?" Melissa asked.
"She was causing trouble for her parents," Jensen instantly supplied.
Melissa leaned forward, clearly delighted that she got to tell them this piece of possibly scandalous information. "No. Her parents sent her to live with her uncle so they could separate her from her girlfriend. I believe they also made sure she has no access to any money."
We all leaned back in our seats, now enlightened. "Ah. The supposed marriage is to a man then?"
"Yes," Melissa said, clearly still happy to share all the gossip. "He's been threatening it since she got here, but from what I heard, it sounds like he decided on a man for her [[to marry]]."
"Who?"
"Eric Wilson, the academic who's been living with us. I know, I know! Crazy. It would never happen though. Miriam might actually run away before she'd agree to that. I was kind of expecting her to run away with her aunt, Pamela Cartwright, when she left town, but I suppose we'll never know now."
"What makes you think that?"
"Oh, nothing. I just think that would be what I would do. I actually just read a book about a young girl who did that, she ran away from home, joined the circus---"
"Sounds fascinating; did Eric Wilson know about this plan?"
"I wouldn't say it was a plan, more of an idea of a plan," Melissa explained. "Eric wouldn't be for it, I'm sure. He lost a chess game to Miriam once and I think that's the extent of their relationship. I also think he's a little bit infautuated with Lucy."
"Oh this is getting good," Jensen said, taking notes fervently.
"I'm not sure Lucy even notices though. Sure, she doesn't mind having him around and him keeping her company, but I don't think she realizes. She's a bit of an [[ice queen, that one.]]"
"And she was arguing with her father at the lunch?"
"Oh, yes! Let me get there, let me get there! Okay, okay, where was I? Oh, right! So it was awkward with both Mr. Ashbough and Miriam in there, like //real// tense. So Miriam got out of there quick, but I noticed she forgot her glass, and I knew there was no way she was coming back in to get it, so I went to take it to her. Poor dear. When I came back, Eric was getting his lunch together and he and Mr. Ashbough were having a tense argument. The type where they're not quite yelling, but like, their voices are strained and a little raised? It's a very specific tone of voice--I'm sure you know it. So from what I could tell, Mr. Ashbough was trying to subtly bring up the idea of marriage and such, which had freaked Eric out, cause he thought Mr. Ashbough knew about his little crush on Lucy--and well, that's just awkward, he obviously would not want to admit that to Mr. Ashbough. And then it devolved into Mr. Ashbough kind of well, insulting Eric and his research and it was just a whole mess of a conversation."
"What is Eric's research about?" Jensen asked.
"Oh honey, I do not know. He has told me like, a million times probably, and each time, it just goes in one ear and out the other. Something with a lot of long words that sound very similar, I can tell you that."
"That really narrows it down, thanks," I said. "Then what happened?"
"Right! Right, you're keeping me on track, I like that. Well, Lucy then came in, which just made poor Eric completely shut down, but she barely even noticed. Her and Mr. Ashbough go from great to terrible in how they feel about each other, and we were on a four day bad-streak, so she was primed for an argument. They argue about anything from back to the divorce, to the fact that neither of them tried to know each other for so long, to how they treated each other, to money, to how they preferred their fish to be cooked. None of the arguments are about just one thing. On Monday, I think the main topic was money."
"How so?"
"Well," Melissa got a glint in her eye, excited to share even more gossip, "Lucy has been a little worried about him spending it on what she deems to be 'stupid purchases', along with a little waitress at the country club apparently."
"A waitress?" I looked at Jensen. "Should we be talking to a waitress too?"
Jensen suddenly looked very concerned that they might be in trouble. Melissa saved them in the next moment.
"Oh, no need. She's on a a cruise, 'won' the trip, after Lucy pulled a few strings. She's been gone for a week and won't be back for another week. I put her on the boat myself!"
Jensen sighed in relief. "So Lucy was worried about this waitress?"
"Yes, on top of some other purchases Mr. Ashbough makes."
"Like what?"
"Oh, he and Mr. Marshall often go to auctions of weird expensive stuff. They actually just went to one on Saturday! Mr. Ashbough brought back the weirdest looking little statuette. It's old and apparently worth a lot, but I'm just not sure I like it. He liked it though, //actually//, he put it right next to the knife in his study!" She covered her mouth with her hand, looking as if his death had just hit her.
"Ms. Lawrence? Are you okay?" No reply. "Uhm, Melissa?"
She looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry, it just, it...comes in waves, the grief." She fanned herself with her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm good."
"Do you need a break?"
"No, no. Um, so, Lucy and her father were arguing, and it was a yelling argument, and then Lucy just stormed out of the kitchen. Then her father stood up, very done with his meal at that point, and told me that he was going into his study and to not disturb him. And I...saw him go into the study and close the door and then I went to the kitchen, got my shopping list together, and left to go to the store. I said bye to Khalil as I was leaving, and then ran into Mr. Marshall. He demanded to see Mr. Ashbough. I told him he was shut up in his study and didn't want to be disturbed by anybody at all, but Mr. Marshall was determined and he just went in. And I just went on my way to the store."
"Where were Lucy, Miriam, and Eric at this moment? Can you remember?"
"Oh, um, yes, Lucy was walking out the door as her father was walking to his study, Eric had crept up the stairs near the end of Lucy and Mr. Ashbough's argument--likely going up to his room to get some work done and avoid those two. Uh, I don't know where Miriam was after I gave her her glass. I think she might've been at Andrea's at that point."
"Thank you. That's very helpful. Who did you see when you came back?"
"Martin, our mailman, what a doll, he was with Khalil when I came back. They helped me unpack the groceries. We waved to Andrea and Miriam once, when they were out doing the little walks Andrea goes on everyday to stay active. She claims it's the secret to staying young. I didn't see anyone else. And then I left, and went home and had a relaing rest of the day doing absolutely nothing, everything having been accomplished."
"Melissa, I want to thank you, you have been incredibly helpful to us. I just have one last question. Did you like your boss?"
Melissa sat back in her chair, considering. After a minute of thinking, she spoke. "I didn't //dislike// him? I know he was not the greatest person, but he was a pretty good boss, and I didn't dread being in his prescence. It's a good job--//was// a good job, I suppose. That being said, I probably wouldn't like, invite him over for a dinner at my place. Yeah, he wouldn't be on my list of guests. So...I don't know."
I gave her a small smile. "Thank you very much Ms. Lawrence."
"She was helpful," Jensen said, after she left the room. "No way she did it right?"
"Right." I confirmed nodding. "She didn't have an opportunity at any time to pull it off. Also, she'd never take action like murdering someone, she'd just observe everything that goes down and share it around."
"Boss!"
"Am I wrong?"
A pause. And then, "I think I'll [[go get the eccentric aunt now.]] She seems fun.""Pamela Cartwright, hello. That's quite the outfit you have on."
"Oh thank you detective!" She sat down with a flourish. "I like your suit!"
"Thank you." I leaned forward. "I can't help but notice that you aren't crying, in fact you don't even appear particularly sad at the death of your brother. Is it because you killed him?"
[[She laughed.]] "Oh no, I wouldn't bother. I barely bother to even stay in touch with him." She laughed delightedly again. "I must say, [[I am so honored]] that you think I might've killed him. Imagine!"
"Wholly convincing as that is, I need you to tell me where exactly you were on Monday."
I woke up in my hotel room in town. I breathed in the air, and I felt like there was something sweet in the air--I was going to have a good day, I just knew it! I stretched my arms up over my head, admiring the sun that came in through the window---"
"--Okay, could you summarize it a bit more than that?" Jensen interrupted just before I did. "I don't have enough room in my notebook for all that."
"Of course, sweet pea! I spent the day with my dear friend in town. Her name is Lauren Sanchez. You can find her and ask around town, we spent the day out and about, living our lives to the fullest! We did not even come close to this house, I can promise you that."
Jensen nodded, scribbling it all down. I turned back to Pamela Cartwright, in all her gaudy glory. "I must ask, what was your relationship like with your brother? You visit town and you stay at a hotel rather than in his place, which certainly has enough rooms to accomodate you? Why did you barely bother to talk to him?"
She sighed, more serious and quieter than she had been before. "Detective, I got married young. Not ridiculously young, oh no, just--we had found each other and that was it. We were incandescently happy and couldn't have been more thrilled to be making our life together. And then, within a year, the love of my life died."
"My condolences. That must have been incredibly hard." I felt for her. I've [[lost my spouse too.]]
"Thank you. Yeah, it was rough." She sniffled a bit. I couldn't see Jensen, but I couldn't hear them writing, and knew they were sitting very, very still. "I grieved for a long time. Then I decided I must live my life to the fullest. After that loss though, I could never settle down in any type of permanent home. Not when all my plans of such a home could never be. Instead, I travel all the time. I meet wonderful, exciting, intersting people and go on fantastic adventures. I find my joy when I can. There's a lot of it out there, I've found." She smiled, no doubt at the memories, then sighed. "My siblings...they never understood. Why I live my life the way I live it. Why I can't fit into the mold they had expected me to fill, no matter what. They don't understand and that makes them frustrated and dismissing of me. It wasn't fun to discover that..but, I've made my peace with my relationships with my siblings. Do you follow, detective? I had no reason to murder my brother. It is sad that he is dead, but I am not--as you noted--heartbroken or crying over him. Becasue for me...he stopped being my brother a long time ago."
She left in a flutter, after a long moment of neither Jensen or I saying anything, stunned.
"Yeah, she was super fun," Jensen said softly.
Something caught my eye out the window. "Look Jensen, the mailman is coming up. Go see if he can confirm the groundskeeper's story. [[I'll handle this last interview myself."]]"I didn't kill my uncle."
"Good to know. Why not?"
"I can't afford a lawyer right now."
"Was that the only thing holding you back?"
"No. I also don't think I could murder someone."
"Most people don't think they can, until things get desperate, and then [[they do."]]
Miriam leaned back in her chair. "I've been in a desperate situation for a few months. Why would I resort to murder now?"
I mimicked her, leaning back in my chair, as if we were having a casual chat. I shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up. But I happen to know that it has recently gotten a little more desperate for you, hasn't it?"
Miriam glared at the wall, crossing her arms. "No way my uncle would've been able to pull it off. I don't think he had any willing participants. A person can't be forced into a marriage."
"As much as I hate to say it, that's not completely true." She looked at me, intrigued. I shrugged.
"Where did you go Monday after you left the kitchen?"
I went into the room next to it, the 'east sitting room'. Finishe my lunch there, and then took off to Andrea's after I saw Lucy storm out. Forgot about my dishes in there until Tuesday morning."
"And no one saw you while you were in there?"
"No. I was sitting out of sight of the door, and it's not a room anyone spends much time in."
"Then you came back after having dinner with Andrea. Did you see anyone?"
"Nope."
"Did you look into the study on your way past?"
"As you know by now, it's down the hall from the door, so I didn't exactly walk by and sneak a peek in. I did notice the door was slightly ajar. I didn't see anything in the room though. But I hightailed it right up to bed, I didn't want to run into my uncle."
"Did you hear anything after that?"
"I did hear someone moving around on the first floor as I was up in my room. But I was tired and went to sleep right away, so I can't really tell you much more than that."
"Could you recognize the footsteps?"
"No. I haven't been living here that long. And I do try to spend most of my days out of here."
I nodded, thinking for a moment. "What will you do, now that your uncle's dead?"
"That's something I'm trying to figure out. I don't want to go back to my parents, but I think I need to go back there at least for a visit and hope they can't trap me again. I gotta get some money and my girl."
"And then what?"
"Well, Andrea's offered to let me stay with her, so I'll probably be there, until we figure something else out, or decide to stay."
"While you were at Andrea's, and going out on those walks around her house, you saw the groundskeeper, mailman, and housekeeper at one or more points yes?"
"Yeah, we waved to them a couple times. To answer what you're about to ask, no they weren't acting suspicious and no, we didn't see anyone else."
I nodded one more time, standing up. "Thank you Miss Alarcon. You've been helpful. I hope things work out for you."
"I do too, detective. I do too."
As she left, Jensen came in. "The mailman confirms the groundskeeper's story. Nothing new. What'd you learn, boss?"
"I think I have it almost narrowed down. But I have one last interview to do, and I need confirmation on a few things before I can in good legal standing rule out everyone I'm considering innocent." I thought for a second, before standing up. "Jensen, I need you to go into town. Go talk to Pamela Cartwright's friend, Lauren Sanchez. And see if you can get other eyewitnesses to place Craig at the country club, Eric at the library, Melissa at the grocery, and Lucy just around town that afternoon. And see if anyone spotted any of the ones who don't live in this house going to their own homes in the evening."
"I got it. I'll be back as fast as I can boss."
I nodded at Jensen, dismissing them. It would take Jensen some time to gather all the info. I had time for a little personal errand. I walked back to the room with all the suspects, stopping at the door.
"Andrea?" I asked, "Will you accompany me on a little walk?"
"Of course detective," she helped herself to my arm as we headed towards the front door. "Where are we headed?"
"I'd like to see your ocean paintings. I'm quite a fan of ocean paintings."
"How lovely! It's just about time for me to do the one for today anyway! [[Come with me!"]]I came back to the Ashbough house with an ocean painting to take home. As I reached the door, I spotted Jensen on his way back. "Andrea, I'm going to wait for my associate here. You go back in with all the others."
She gave me a grandmotherly pat on my arm and went inside.
"Jensen! What'd you learn?"
"So many things! First, Lauren Sanchez is a very good friend of Pamela Cartwright. Pamela sends her letters and postcards all the time, and came to town specifically to visit her. They spent the whole day together Monday, which several townspeople confirmed. No way she killed Ashbough."
"Good to know she's definitely cleared. What else?"
"Well boss, Lauren Sanchez is an aviator! It was so fascinating, she showed me her plane and everything! She has her own plane!"
[[I smiled]]. "How fun. About the case though Jensen, anything else about that?"
"Oh! Right! Eyewitnesses confirmed the locations of everyone, exactly where they said they were, generally at about the right times. No one could say for sure whether Khalil, Melissa, or Craig stayed in their homes all night, but they were all headed in those directions early evening and then weren't seen until the next day. So I think it's pretty safe to say none of them came back to murder Mr. Ashbough after going home. Right?"
"That's very good Jensen." Jensen beamed.
"There's just one thing we need to check before I think we can say this mystery is solved. You ready?"
"Lead on, boss!"
[[Go to the study]]I would know.
[[<<Back|I'll handle this last interview myself."]]It's really not that hard to get people to laugh.
I get so many people to laugh so often, I would kill it as a comedian.
[[<<Back|go get the eccentric aunt now.]]Yeah, she was fun.
[[<<Back|go get the eccentric aunt now.]]In the [[grocery store.]]Where are the [[aisles are labeled!]]Granted, they had recently reorganized the layout of the store, but, still. [[There are signs]], sweetheart!Apparently it is good and healthy to acknowledge and accept your partner's weaknesses, so I gotta say: the love of my life has absolutely [[no goddamn sense of direction.]]It was a very harrowing five minutes.
[[<<Back|go get the eccentric aunt now.]]Oh no. [[I hope it's not Craig]].
[[<<Back|"I'll go get the next person, boss.]]The last time someone was described as an 'ice queen' in one of my murder investigations, the 'ice queen' did turn out to be the murderer. She'd killed with, unsurprisingly, an ice pick.
The time before that, it was a kid who couldn't quite pronounce 'ice cream'.
And it did turn out that the ice cream man was the murderer in that case.
[[<<Back|"I'll go get the next person, boss.]]The murder might be justifiable then.
[[<<Back|"I'll go get the next person, boss.]]The first dead body is really tough. Honestly, even the tenth one is tough.
The trick is to start young. Go to all the funerals and viewings you can when you're still a child. And then it doesn't bother you anymore once you're an adult! Problem solved!
[[<<Back|"Jensen, bring in Eric Wilson now."]]Unless, of course, she turns out to be the murderer. Which is quite probable at this point.
[[<<Back|"Jensen, bring in Eric Wilson now."]]Yeah, [[crazy]] how that happens.A lot.
At least 15.
[[<<Back|"Bring in the daughter next, Jensen."]]Something along the lines of: 'I loved him! I couldn't have killed my dad!'
Just saying.
[[<<Back|"Bring in the daughter next, Jensen."]]Someone gets knifed in the back and then, boom, they're dead.
[[Wild.|"Bring in the daughter next, Jensen."]][[Oh no. I hope it's not Craig]].
[[<<Back|Melissa Lawrence, the housekeeper. She can probably give us the context we need for that tense lunch Khalil avoided.]]The last time someone was described as an 'ice queen' in one of my murder investigations, the 'ice queen' did turn out to be the murderer. She'd killed with, unsurprisingly, an ice pick.
The time before that, it was a kid who couldn't quite pronounce 'ice cream'.
And it did turn out that the ice cream man was the murderer in that case.
[[<<Back|Melissa Lawrence, the housekeeper. She can probably give us the context we need for that tense lunch Khalil avoided.]]The murder might be justifiable then.
[[<<Back|Melissa Lawrence, the housekeeper. She can probably give us the context we need for that tense lunch Khalil avoided.]]"Eric Wilson, please, have a seat."
He sat down silently, looking nervous. He fidgeted with his sleeves.
"Tell me what happened Monday, if you please Mr. Wilson."
"Mr. Ashbough was murdered."
"What did you do on Monday, Mr. Wilson?"
"Sorry, I just thought you were referring to, uh, to, I just can't stop... seeing it in my mind. Sorry." He whispered.
[["First dead body Mr. Wilson?"]]
"Uh, yeah. Yes, very, very much so. I had //just// seen him, and now he's, he's--"
"Dead," Jensen helpfully supplied.
"Yeah," Eric said, drawing in a shaky breath.
"Why don't you tell us about your research, Mr. Wilson?"
He nodded and started talking. He was not great at explaining it, I almost immediately understood why no one really knew what he was doing. He just assumed everyone would know what all the words meant. Even eager, well-meaning Jensen who loves to learn was getting a bit glassy-eyed after a few minutes. But it worked. Eric's voice got stronger and he stopped obsessing about seeing a dead body.
"You certainly are very passionate, Mr. Wilson, I commend you on that," I eventually interrupted after what must've been five minutes. "Can you tell me what you did Monday?"
"I spent a quiet morning reading, and then when I went down for lunch, Mr. Ashbough was there--in a weird mood--and we had a really weird conversation, it felt a lot like an argument but I didn't want to argue and I also didn't really know what it was about, it was just very strange. And then Lucille came in, and she and her father began arguing and yelling and I did not like being caught there in the room but I couldn't figure out how to get out, so I just slowly tried to make my way to the door. And then I was just starting up the steps when Lucille left the kitchen, very upset. And then Mr. Ashbough and Ms. Lawrence came out too and Mr. Ashbough declared he was not to be disturbed in his study until he said so. So I went up to my room and tried to do more reading. But it wasn't ten minutes before that Mr. Marshall came in yelling and making a racket and I just needed to get out of the house. So I went to the library in town and stayed there for a while and as I was leaving I ran into Lucille and we had dinner together in town," he smiled a little, "and we walked back together and she walked me up to my room and said goodnight and that she would go check on her dad and then go to sleep too."
"Lucy went to check on her dad in the evening? What happened? Did she see him? Was he alive at that point?"
"Ah, I don't, I don't know. I fell asleep almost immediately after she left, and I didn't ask the next morning and then well, then there was a dead body and I didn't think, I didn't think to ask, I should've asked, how could I have forgotten that---"
"It's totally understandable that you didn't remember to ask, what with seeing your first dead body and all. Don't worry about it. Did you hear anything before you fell asleep?"
"No. No, Lucille is very quiet when going around, not like that Mr. Marshall, I could ceratinly hear him when he knocked on the study door. He is always so loud, it is rude."
"Yes, he ceratinly is. What exactly did you hear when Mr. Marshall went to the study Monday afternoon?"
"Oh, he came in very loudly, stomping and yelling for Mr. Ashbough. He knocked very loudly on the study door, demanding Mr. Ashbough to open up, and that he had wronged him, and other things I couldn't quite hear. I was trying to block out his noise. He spent quite some time yelling and banging on the door--I think he even kicked the door at some point. I don't think Mr. Ashbough ever answered though. Eventually Mr. Marshall left raging, the same way he came in. But the peace and quiet in my room had already been disturbed, so I packed up my materials and left for the library."
"Did you look into the study as you left? Did you hear anyhing? Could you tell if Mr. Ashbough was alive in there?"
"Mm, no. The door was closed."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson, that's very helpful. I hate to ask this, but I must: Did you kill Mr. Ashbough?"
"No, no no, I did not, I would not kill anyone, no one, not Mr. Ashbough, not even loud Mr. Marshall, no. I couldn't kill anyone! And if I killed Mr. Ashbough then I might have to go back to studying and researching in noisy places if I can't stay here--I might have to go anyway! Since he is dead, oh no, that is bad, why didn't I think of that before, oh no, oh no no no, I've been doing so well here--"
"Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson! I am sure that Miss Ashbough will ber very willing to let you [[stay here for as long as you like]], please stop freaking out."
He took deep breaths, steadying himself, though he was still shaking a little.
"Mr. Wilson, you have been very helpful. I know it's a bad time right now, but you did great, thank you."
He was at the door when Jensen called out, "Oh, Eric, uh Mr. Wilson, just one last thing, I promise."
"Yes?"
"Did you see Miriam at any point on Monday?"
"Uh...oh yes! I passed her on her way out of the kitchen as I was heading in for lunch. And she was in the hallway outside of it, I think until around when Lucille came to the kitchen. I did not see her again after that. I think she probably went to Ms. Vanders's."
"Right. Thank you again."
"Good catch Jensen."
Jensen beamed, standing up quickly to try and hide it. [["I'll bring in the daughter."]]The first dead body is really tough. Honestly, even the tenth one is tough.
The trick is to start young. Go to all the funerals and viewings you can when you're still a child. And then it doesn't bother you anymore once you're an adult! Problem solved!
[[<<Back|"I'll go find our next interviewee."]]Unless, of course, she turns out to be the murderer. Which is quite probable at this point.
[[<<Back|"I'll go find our next interviewee."]]"Miss Ashbough, you have my sympathy. It must be hard, losing your father."
She sniffled, wiping her tears with her hankerchief. [["I just can't believe he's dead]]!"
"Yes, loss is difficult to process. I only want to take a few minutes of your time, Miss Ashbough."
"Please don't call me that right now! Lucy will do."
"Alright Lucy. Walk me through what happened Monday."
She took a deep breath and when she began her voice barely shook. "I slept in and didn't see my father until lunch. I was angry at him. He went to one of those stupid auctions and bought that stupid little statue for way more than he should have. He spends his money very irresponsibly. As soon as I saw him, I started in on him, all his stupid purchases and we yelled. I was seeing red. My father and I had a lot of fights, I'll admit. But I didn't want him dead!"
"Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why didn't you want him dead?"
"Wha-//he's my father//!"
I raised my eyebrows at her. I had seen a lot of cases where people killed their fathers[[.]]
She shook her head at me. "We fought a lot, but we were very similar in a lot of ways. I am who I am partially because of him. He's my dad. [[I...I don't really know how else to say it]]. I wouldn't kill him."
"Tell me, what prompted you to move in with your father two years ago? You hadn't lived with him in well over a decade."
"That was it. I wanted to get to know my father." She shrugged. "Besides, I had been living quite the whirlwind life for a while, and I wanted some quiet."
"Any intention to go back to the whirlwind anytime soon?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I'll definitely need the distraction now, I suppose."
"What happened after you stormed out of the argument with your father on Monday?"
"I went and had lunch in town. I had been too busy yelling to eat here. Then I went to the shops and wasted time, until I felt less angry. As I was about to head home, I came across Eric. We decided to have dinner together in town, and then we walked back to the house. I bid him goodnight at his door, before going down to see if I coul talk to my father before I went to bed myself."
"What did you want to talk to your father about?"
"The same thing as before. That stupid statue. But I was going to //try// and be civil, rather than yell, see if I could convince him that way. So I went down and knocked on the study door, but he didn't answer."
"Was the door locked?"
"I don't know. I didn't barge in, I was //trying// to be civil. Then I called him immature and spiteful for not answering me." She drew in a heavy, shaky breath. "He was probably already dead and I didn't even know it!"
I nodded sympathetically. "And then you left?"
She gulped, wiping more tears with her hankerchief. "Yes, I went up to bed."
"Did you fall asleep right away? Did you hear anything else in the house?"
"No I stayed awake for some time. It was all silent."
"Could you tell me where this statue you were arguing about is?"
"Yeah, in his study. He displayed that ridiculous thing right next to the knife in his study." She inhaled shakily, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Alright. Thank you very much Lucy. You've been very helpful. I just have one last question. When you and Ms. Lawrence entered the study and found your father's body, was the door locked or unlocked?"
"Unlocked."
"Thank you. You may go back to the other room now."
[["Jensen, bring in the eccentric aunt. She should be fun."]][[Yeah, crazy how that happens.]]Something along the lines of: 'I loved him! I couldn't have killed my dad!'
Just saying.
[[<<Back|"I'll bring in the daughter."]]Someone gets knifed in the back and then, boom, they're dead.
[[Wild.|"I'll bring in the daughter."]]"Pamela Cartwright, hello. That's quite the outfit you have on."
"Oh thank you detective!" She sat down with a flourish. "I like your suit!"
"Thank you." I leaned forward. "I can't help but notice that you aren't crying, in fact you don't even appear particularly sad at the death of your brother. Is it because you killed him?"
[[She laughed]]. "Oh no, I wouldn't bother. I barely bother to even stay in touch with him." She laughed delightedly again. [["I must say, I am so honored that you think I might've killed him.]] Imagine!"
"Wholly convincing as that is, I need you to tell me where exactly you were on Monday."
I woke up in my hotel room in town. I breathed in the air, and I felt like there was something sweet in the air--I was going to have a good day, I just knew it! I stretched my arms up over my head, admiring the sun that came in through the window---"
"--Okay, could you summarize it a bit more than that?" Jensen interrupted just before I did. "I don't have enough room in my notebook for all that."
"Of course, sweet pea! I spent the day with my dear friend in town. Her name is Lauren Sanchez. You can find her and ask around town, we spent the day out and about, living our lives to the fullest! We did not even come close to this house, I can promise you that."
Jensen nodded, scribbling it all down. I turned back to Pamela Cartwright, in all her gaudy glory. "I must ask, what was your relationship like with your brother? You visit town and you stay at a hotel rather than in his place, which certainly has enough rooms to accomodate you? Why did you barely bother to talk to him?"
She sighed, more serious and quieter than she had been before. "Detective, I got married young. Not ridiculously young, oh no, just--we had found each other and that was it. We were incandescently happy and couldn't have been more thrilled to be making our life together. And then, within a year, the love of my life died."
"My condolences. That must have been incredibly hard." I felt for her. [[I've lost my spouse too.]]
"Thank you. Yeah, it was rough." She sniffled a bit. I couldn't see Jensen, but I couldn't hear them writing, and knew they were sitting very, very still. "I grieved for a long time. Then I decided I must live my life to the fullest. After that loss though, I could never settle down in any type of permanent home. Not when all my plans of such a home could never be. Instead, I travel all the time. I meet wonderful, exciting, intersting people and go on fantastic adventures. I find my joy when I can. There's a lot of it out there, I've found." She smiled, no doubt at the memories, then sighed. "My siblings...they never understood. Why I live my life the way I live it. Why I can't fit into the mold they had expected me to fill, no matter what. They don't understand and that makes them frustrated and dismissing of me. It wasn't fun to discover that..but, I've made my peace with my relationships with my siblings. Do you follow, detective? I had no reason to murder my brother. It is sad that he is dead, but I am not--as you noted--heartbroken or crying over him. Becasue for me...he stopped being my brother a long time ago."
She left in a flutter, after a long moment of neither Jensen or I saying anything, stunned.
"Yeah, she was super fun," Jensen said softly.
I sighed. "Jensen. I think we have to face it now. Go bring in Craig."
[["Ugh."]]It's really not that hard to get people to laugh.
I get so many people to laugh so often, I would kill it as a comedian.
[[<<Back|"Jensen, bring in the eccentric aunt. She should be fun."]]Yeah, she was fun.
[[<<Back|"Jensen, bring in the eccentric aunt. She should be fun."]][[In the grocery store.]][[Where are the aisles are labeled!]]Granted, they had recently reorganized the layout of the store, but, still. [[There are signs, sweetheart!]]Apparently it is good and healthy to acknowledge and accept your partner's weaknesses, so I gotta say: [[the love of my life has absolutely no goddamn sense of direction.]]It was a very harrowing five minutes.
[[<<Back|"Jensen, bring in the eccentric aunt. She should be fun."]]"Alright, let's get this over with and clear me so you can focus on finding the murderer! If you are even capable of that," Craig Marshall entered the room with that statement, looking down his nose at me.
"You keep that kind of talk up, there'll be another murder in this house. And sadly, I'll be just //too// incompetent to solve it."
Craig did look slightly miffed as he sat down, before becoming indignant again. "Was that a threat? Did you just threaten me! You can't do that! I will have your head on a platter in days!"
I turned to Jensen, casually. "Jensen, are you hearing what I heard? I think this murder suspect just threatened to behead me? And then feast on my flesh? Was that right, Craig? That was it, wasn't it? I must say, that cetainly puts him up higher on the suspect list, doesn't it Jensen?"
"Oh yeah. Yeah it does." Jensen's face was //stone//.
Craig's, on the other hand, had turned very red.
I smiled at him. "This is a murder investiagtion. Whatever power or privilege you think you have, you don't have it here. You are nothing more than just another potential murderer. A criminal. So be helpful and maybe I won't arrest you for obstruction of justice at the end of this if you aren't the murderer. Understood Craig?"
He nodded, looking about to burst from anger, but he didn't say anything.
"Good. Why were you angry at Arthur Ashbough on Monday?"
Craig took a deep breath, glaring the whole time, and spoke through clenched teeth. "That traitor outbid me on purpose at the auction."
"Elaborate."
He huffed. "He knew I was after a specific piece, a very rare and valued statuette, and he knew how much I wanted it and how much I could spend and that //asshole// outbid me. On purpose. For fun. Cause he just always had to win."
"This auction was Saturday?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't confront him then?"
"I planned to, but not at the auction. But then I had some drinks to get over the shock of the betrayal, and I was not keeping count of how may drinks."
"Ah. So what happened when you came in Monday afternoon?"
"I came to confront him about it. But he refused to talk to me, //the bastard//. Wouldn't even open the door or acknowledge my existence. And I am hard to ignore. But no, yelling, banging on the door, hell, I even kicked it, but no, not even that's enough to get that [[backstabber]] to face me and settle things."
"He didn't answer at all?"
He rolled his eyes as if he couldn't believe I'd asked such a silly question. "No. I just told you that. Are you even paying attention?"
I ignored his extra commentary. "Was the door locked?"
"Of course it was! What kind of a fool do you think I am, that'd I'd spend time banging on and yelling through a door I could've just opened!"
"Of course. And where is this statuette now?"
Craig hesitated for a moment, scowling again. "I don't know. Not with me, so it's in the wrong place. The bastard up and dies and I still don't get what I deserve."
"Mhmm. Who did you see when you came to the house?"
"The housekeeper, Ms. Loughton or whatever."
"Ms. Lawrence."
"Probably."
"Anyone else?"
"No. Maybe the groundskeeper. I'm not sure. People like that are just background scenery, practically, who can tell."
I suppressed the very strong urge to punch him. "What did you do after you left this house?"
"Went to the country club, practiced my pool game, had a few drinks, went home around sundown."
"Can anyone confirm that you were in your home after leaving the country club?"
His glare renewed with more force. "No."
"That's all. Stay in the house until we tell you you can leave."
Craig glared for a second more, before getting up and stalking out of the room.
"Hey boss?"
"Yeah?"
"You know how I have like, a general goodwill towards all of humanity?"
I raised an amused eyebrow at Jensen. "Yeah?"
"He makes me reconsider that."
I laughed. As I laughed, something caught my eye out the window. "Jensen. Get the mailman in here."
"Boss?" Jensen followed my line of sight out the window towards the approaching mailman.
"He comes by everyday. See if he noticed anything, or at the very least, have him confirm the groundskeeper's story."
"You got it boss."
"I'll interview our last suspect myself, and we'll regroup after that. Good?”
[["Good."]]"I didn't kill my uncle."
"Good to know. Why not?"
"I can't afford a lawyer right now."
"Was that the only thing holding you back?"
"No. I also don't think I could murder someone."
"Most people don't think they can, until [[things get desperate, and then they do."]]
Miriam leaned back in her chair. "I've been in a desperate situation for a few months. Why would I resort to murder now?"
I mimicked her, leaning back in my chair, as if we were having a casual chat. I shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up. But I happen to know that it has recently gotten a little more desperate for you, hasn't it?"
Miriam glared at the wall, crossing her arms. "No way my uncle would've been able to pull it off. I don't think he had any willing participants. A person can't be forced into a marriage."
"As much as I hate to say it, that's not completely true." She looked at me, intrigued. I shrugged.
"Where did you go Monday after you left the kitchen?"
I went into the room next to it, the 'east sitting room'. Finishe my lunch there, and then took off to Andrea's after I saw Lucy storm out. Forgot about my dishes in there until Tuesday morning."
"And no one saw you while you were in there?"
"No. I was sitting out of sight of the door, and it's not a room anyone spends much time in."
"Then you came back after having dinner with Andrea. Did you see anyone?"
"Yeah. And I saw Lucy at the study door, trying to get her dad to talk to her."
"And you talked her out of opening the door and going into the study?"
"That's right. I was tired and just wanted to sleep. I can't sleep if those two are trying to bite each other's heads off. So I got her to leave him be and go to bed. So we went up and that was it."
I nodded, thinking for a moment. "What will you do, now that your uncle's dead?"
"That's something I'm trying to figure out. I don't want to go back to my parents, but I think I need to go back there at least for a visit and hope they can't trap me again. I gotta get some money and my girl."
"And then what?"
"Well, Andrea's offered to let me stay with her, so I'll probably be there, until we figure something else out, or decide to stay."
"While you were at Andrea's, and going out on those walks around her house, you saw the groundskeeper, mailman, and housekeeper at one or more points yes?"
"Yeah, we waved to them a couple times. To answer what you're about to ask, no they weren't acting suspicious and no, we didn't see anyone else."
I nodded one more time, standing up. "Thank you Miss Alarcon. You've been helpful. I hope things work out for you."
"I do too, detective. I do too."
As she left, Jensen came in. "The mailman confirms the groundskeeper's story. Nothing new. What'd you learn, boss?"
"I think I have it almost narrowed down. But I have one last interview to do, and I need confirmation on a few things before I can in good legal standing rule out everyone I'm considering innocent." I thought for a second, before standing up. "Jensen, I need you to go into town. Go talk to Pamela Cartwright's friend, Lauren Sanchez. And see if you can get other eyewitnesses to place Craig at the country club, Eric at the library, Melissa at the grocery, and Lucy just around town that afternoon. And see if anyone spotted any of the ones who don't live in this house going to their own homes in the evening."
"I got it. I'll be back as fast as I can boss."
I nodded at Jensen, dismissing them. Curious, I went into the study and looked around. The now-empty knife holder stood next to a hideous little statue. That must be the thing Ashbough outbid Craig for. Whatever it had cost, it certainly did not look worth it. I shouldn't be surprised though. Rich people had awful taste. Saisfied, I left the study.
It would take Jensen some time to gather all the info.I had time for a little personal errand. I walked back to the room with all the suspects, stopping at the door.
"Andrea?" I asked, "Will you accompany me on a little walk?"
"Of course detective," she helped herself to my arm as we headed towards the front door. "Where are we headed?"
"I'd like to see your ocean paintings. I'm quite a fan of ocean paintings."
"How lovely! It's about time for me to do the one for today anyway! [[Right this way, detective!"]]I would know.
[[<<Back|"Good."]]"So tell me about these paintings of yours."
"Gladly! Several years ago, I decided I wanted to take up painting and really stick to it and get good at it. And you know, the ocean was right there, always ready and willing to be painted. So I told myself, I said, 'Andrea, you are going to paint the ocean everyday until you get very skilled at it.' So I did. Cause that Andrea's a smart lady, I have to listen to her."
I grinned down at her, charmed. "Are you very skilled at it by now?"
"I certainly think so!" She laughed. "I enjoyed it so much that once I got very good I decided to keep going. It's very relaxing for me now. I don't miss a day! You know, you'd be surprised by the amount of different colors you can use when painting the ocean. You can use the whole spectrum!"
"Is that what keeps it from getting boring, all the different colors?"
"Somewhat. But I do have a little routine, as ironic as that is, to keep it varied."
"Oh?" I prompted her, intrigued.
"Every month, I pick a specific time of the day, or more of a 20 minute time block if you will, I'm good you know, but not one-minute-fully-finished-painting good."
"Is anyone?"
"Oh, I'm sure there's some quick young thing out there who is. So every month I pick a time, and that's the time I paint at for the whole month! You see, that way I do a lot of sunsets, and then I'll do mid-mornings, and then twilight, and then late afternoon, and then just before sunrise, so by the time I get sick of painting sunrises, I won't do them again for half a year! Though even though it's the same time everyday for a month, the lighting does change over the course of those days, so the paintings of a month aren't even as similar as I'm sure you're thinking, detective."
"What is your painting time this month?"
"Two o'clock! Afternoon, of course. Ah, here we are, detective," she said, as we came upon her house.
"Should I expect it to be nothing but ocean paintings inside?"
Andrea laughed. "Oh no! I started selling them or giving them away as gifts a few years back. I'd have over a thousand by now if I did! I like to keep the number at a much more reasonable six hundred or so."
I nodded seriously at her, "How wise."
She rolled her eyes at me. [["Come pick out one you like, detective."]]Jensen always made friends wherever we went.
[[<<Back|Come along!"]]I could pretty much already tell, but it never hurts to encourage Jensen to share everything they've learned. It's good practice.
[[<<Back|Come along!"]]Everyone looked up as we entered the room. Melissa must have gotten them refreshments while they waited. They were all drinking champagne, in memory of the deaceased, I'm sure.
I addressed them. "Hello again. Thank you all for your time today. It has been most enlightening. My associate and I don't intend to darken your doorstep any longer than is necessary however, so let's get to it." I nodded at the local officers in the room. Then I looked at the murderer.
[["Craig Marshall, you are under arrest for the murder of Arthur Finn Ashbough III."]]
He, unsurprisingly, immediately started sputtering in outrage. "How DARE you, I didn't kill Arthur, it is blasphemous for you to even say that, what //proof// do you have, I will //sue you// for defamation you---"
"Shut up Craig." I looked around at everyone else in the room. Andrea's eyes were bright, her and Melissa leaning forward and looking at me with intense interest.
"How do you know detective?" Melissa asked, sipping her champagne, eager to hear the story, no doubt planning to repeat it many times to all her acquaintances.
"''You have no proof!''" Craig growled.
At that, Jensen held up the statuette, smug.
Craig's scunched up, angry face dropped as he stared at it, frozen.
I smiled, turning back towards Melissa. "That, my dear Ms. Lawrence, is how we know. You see, Craig and Mr. Ashbough went to the auction this past weekend, and Mr. Ashbough bought this piece there."
"Thieving bastard," Craig muttered under his breath.
"Craig over here, had expressed an intention to buy this, uh, piece," I explained, motioning to the ugly thing Jensen still held. "He also expressed the price he was willing to pay for it. The late Mr. Ashbough, for reasons unknown since he is now deceased and we cannot ask him, decided to bid higher than his friend Craig and was rewarded with ownership of the statuette, which he then put in his study. That was where it remained until Craig came bursting in right after lunch." I paused. Everyone in the room was listening with rapt attention. "As Mr. Wilson heard from upstairs, Craig banged on the study door, demanding to see Mr. Ashbough, no doubt to scream about how he had wronged him at the auction. The noise then got slighly quieter, as Mr. Wilson noted. Mr. Ashbough opened the door to Craig. Whether Mr. Ashbough taunted him, offered to give him the statuette out of charity, or actually did propose they play a round of pool for it like Craig claimedd, I do not know. Whatever Mr. Ashbough said though, it angered Craig enough to stab him in the back when he faced away from him."
I let that sink in for a moment with my audience.
Craig was glowering now, but he did not open his mouth. He apparently did not care to tell the group what it was Mr. Ashbough had said.
"He then took he statuette and left. Probably wrapped it up in his coat, which he would have taken off to hide the bloodstains, closing the study door behind him, and he was gone."
"Hold up," Khalil said. "How did I not notice that when he came back out?"
"Would I be correct in saying, Mr. Gardener, that you do your best to not be near to Craig when he comes by? You probably put some space between the two of you, and don't look at him for much more of a glance, yes?"
Khalil thinks for a second. "Yeah. Yeah, that's accurate."
I smiled kindly at him. "Then it is no surprise you did not realize Craig had just committed a murder.[["]]
Craig scoffed. "A murder? More like a service to the worldd. I gave him just what he deserved--to be stabbed in the back, just like what he had done to me."
I looked at him, actually a bit surprised. I considered him for a second, then turned back to the rest of the room. "Well there you have it folks, the confession." I looked at the officers and nodded. "Take him away."
Jensen awkwardly handed the ugly little statuette to Lucy. "It's yours now." Lucy, understandably, looked less than thrilled.
Melissa handed me a glass of champagne. "To solving the murder." I clinked glasses with her and downed it.
"That's that folks. Once again, you all have my condolences on your loss. Hopefully we were able to bring you a little closure today. It was lovely meeting you all, and I wish each and every one of you the best."
They all thanked me, Andrea making sure I knew I was welcome to stop by anytime. Jensen got some appreciative comments too, and got another cheek pinch from Pamela Cartwright.
"A job well done, eh, boss?" Jensen asked, as we walked away from the Ashbough estate.
A man is dead. And his murderer will be in jail for the rest of his life.
"Indeed Jensen. Indeed." I turned my face up, towards the sun that peeked out, now that evening was approaching. "Let's go home."It was very subtle, and I almost missed it, but I saw Martin, the mailman, move his hand ever so slightly to give Khalil's hand the lightest little squeeze, before withdrawing it back to hold onto his champagne glass with both hands.
[[<<Back|"Craig Marshall, you are under arrest for the murder of Arthur Finn Ashbough III."]] Jensen always made friends wherever we went.
[[<<Back|Come with me!"]]In the study, Jensen and I found the statuette that Ashbough had outbid Craig for, sitting next to the empty knife display.
"This?" Jensen asked, looking at it incredulously. "This is what they were arguing over?"
I shared Jensen's sentiment. It was ugly as hell.
I shook my head, sighing. "Rich people. They have the worst taste."
"That's for sure," Jensen vehemently agreed. After staring at it disgustedly for another few seconds, they turned to me. "Does this mean the murderer isn't Craig?"
"I think so. I'm not sure he'd be smart enough to leave it if he was the murderer. Did anyone see him specifically playing pool at the country club later that day?"
"Yes, several people. Apparently he nearly yelled a guy's head off, when they asked if they could use the table her was at. And he got very upset everytime he had a bad shot, but very determined to keep practing. Definitely sounded like he was practicing to play Ashbough for that horrendous piece of...[[art, I guess you'd have to call it]]?"
"I'd rather not."
"Yeah, me either."
"Well, Jensen. I suppose it is time for us to [[go expose a murderer."]]A //very// subjective art piece, if I must.
Though I suppose just because something is labeled as art, it does not always mean it must be pleasing to look at.
[[<<Back|Go to the study]]Everyone looked up as we entered the room. Melissa must have gotten them refreshments while they waited. They were all drinking champagne, in memory of the deaceased, I'm sure.
I addressed them. "Hello again. Thank you all for your time today. It has been most enlightening. My associate and I don't intend to darken your doorstep any longer than is necessary however, so let's get to it." I nodded at the local officers in the room. Then I looked at one person in particular.
[["Lucille Ashbough, you are under arrest for the murder of your father, Arthur Finn Ashbough III.]]Lucy just stared at me, frozen, a miild expression of surprise and confusion on her face.
"What?" Eric asked. "No. Lucille? No." He was stuck between being indignant that it wasn't her and being just unsure enough about her to believe my declaration.
Melissa sipped her champagne eagerly, her eyes never leaving Lucy.
Andrea raised her eyebrows, while Miriam sat next to her, clearly trying to put it together.
Craig, of course, had no trouble sharing his opinion. "Lucy? Why that's ridiculous detective! She's Arhur's own flesh and blood! How //preposterous// of you to even suggest a thing! Really! And they call you a detective!"
I ignored Craig, keeping my gaze calmly on Lucy.
Martin, the mailman, who actually interrupted him. "Shut up Craig," he said, rather mildly.
And Craig shut up.
"When did she do it, Detective?" Khalil asked. I looked at him, taking my gaze off Lucy. I knew he was wondering when it was, considering he had watched her leave first and had not seen her come back.
"In the evening. Some time after Melissa, Martin, and you all left for he day. She went into town to cool off, but it wasn't just a one time argument. It had built up. And she knew it was a strategically good time to do it. Her father had just gotten into an argument with her cousin the night before, had drawn Craig's ire the day before that, and had picked a fight with Eric. She knew with all that, her own turbulent relationship with her father wouldn't immediately stand out and put the focus on her."
Everyone glanced at Lucy. She kept staring at me, face completely [[neutral.]]
"She ran into Eric in town, they had dinner, walked back to the house together. She bid him goodnight at his room, and went down to talk to her father. He was still alive, and let her in to talk. I don't know exactly what happened, but it ended with Lucy stabbing her father in the back. Then Miriam came home. She noticed the study door ajar, cause it had not been fully closed when you entered. That door had been closed when Eric left earlier that afternoon. Miriam said she then heard someone moving around on the first floor after she went up to bed. I'm betting she came into the house right after you stabbed your father. Is that right, Lucille?"
Everyone stared at Lucy. There were a few long seconds of silence and then her neutral expression turned into a glare.
When she spoke, her tone was hard and unfeeling. "Yeah, I killed him. So what?"
Craig sputtered. Eric gasped. Miriam and Andrea raised their eyebrows in tandem. Melissa grabbed Pamela's arm, riveted.
"You are quite the actress, Miss Ashbough."
"Thank you."
"Why?" Pamela asked.
"I came here to get to know my father. After two years, I realized I don't really like him all that much. In fact, the only thing I really liked about my father was his money. And he kept wasting it. So, I got rid of him."
Eric and Craig both looked stricken. Melissa was almost vibrating with excitement at the drama. Martin, the mailman, looked sad.
"You're definitely not going to get the money now," Jensen said.
Lucy huffed, annoyed. She glared at everyone. "Well. I almost did. A lot of you were very suspicious and it was highly possible I would get away with it."
"But you didn't." I told her. I turned to the officers. "Take her away, please."
There was momentary silence as she was taken out of the room. It was broken by Melissa's emphatic exclamation of, "Well!" She immediately began chattering about it; who would've guessed, what a dramatic change in mood Lucy had before and after she was exposed, etc. She drew Andrea and Pamela into the conversation with her. Miriam stared out the window, seeming in disbelief. I thought I could detect a hint of a smile though. Perhaps the estate would fall to her now. Craig sank into a chair, in shock. Eric seemed similarly frozen. Khalil and Martin, the mailman, shared a glance--they seemed to know each other initimately well--before Khalil stepped forward, offering both Jensen and me glasses of champagne.
I downed mine while Jensen sipped.
"We best get going now," I told Jensen, who nodded, and started to sip more hurriedly.
I addressed the room. "Well, we're going to be heading out. The local officers will contact you if any further follow up is needed. Hopefully we were able to bring you a little closure today. Once again, you all have my condolences. I wish you the best." I looked at everyone but Craig for that last part.
They all thanked me and Jensen and made us promise to travel safe.
I had just left the room, Jensen in front of me, when I stopped. Jensen looked back, rolling their eyes but grinning when they realized what I was doing.
I leaned back into the doorway, grinning, "Let's all not do this again, huh?"
The silence and blank face is quite the tell. Nine times out of ten, an innocent person will not react to a murder accusaton being leveled a them by being silent and taking it. They deny, and question, and righteously defend themselves.
That one time is only when they are covering for someone else.
But there's no one here ice queen Lucy cares enough about to take the fall for her own father's murder charge.
[[<<Back|"Lucille Ashbough, you are under arrest for the murder of your father, Arthur Finn Ashbough III.]] I perused the paintings, picking up my favorite ones and putting them on the table to consider them together and pick which one is my favorite out of them all.
All the paintings had the dates they were paintedd written on the back. Andrea kept them organized by month, and the farther back they went, the less there were for each month.
Andrea was on her porch, which faced the sea and served as her artist's studio, setting up her painting for today. It was just about two o'clock. I watched her through the window, as she checked the time, and then started painting. I watched her for a few minutes.
I wandered over to the collection of paintings from this month, wondering how similar today's painting would be to the rest of them. I carefully considered them all. Counted them. Checked the dates on their backs.
I picked out my favorite painting from the table, and took it outside to join Andrea.
I watched her in silence for a few minutes. She was putting the finishing touches on the painting when I spoke.
[["Where's the painting from Monday?"]]She froze.
For a long second, neither of us moved. She stared at her painting, brush up in the air, just breathing. I watched her.
Then she unfroze and kept moving as if nothing happened. "What do you mean?"
"There's no painting from the day of the murder, Andrea."
She laughed lightly, but it wasn't genuine. "That's not possible, detective. I must have just misplaced it. It's probably still in the drying room--I leave them in there for a day you know, and yesterday before I had a chance to move it, just as I was finishing up yesterday's painting is when I got the news, you know." She still wasn't looking at me.
"Andrea, you and I both know I won't find a painting from Monday if I go look in your drying room."
She took a deep breath, putting one last touch on her painting. She pursed her lips as she put the paintbrush down and turned to finally face me.
Vey firmly, she said, "Detective, I did not kill Arthur Ashbough."
I waited a few seconds, meeting her gaze. I glanced over at the ocean, casually, lazily, "Oh, I know." I looked back at her. [["Miriam did."]]Andrea said nothing, just stared back at me.
"I suspected her of course, but I wasn't sure until I saw your missing painting. Nothing would keep you, an incredibly routine-oreiented and disciplined person from one of your set routines. No one could disrupt you from your relaxing painting time. Except maybe your friend coming over right before you started painting, shocked and distraught and in need of comfort after murdering her uncle."
Andrea sat down, calmly. She still said nothing, just watching me carefully. Trying to figure out my motive.
"It's obvious to me now that she went into the study as soon as everyone else left the hallway. She locked the door and stabbed her uncle. She was still in there when Craig Marshall arrived. That's why Ashbough seemed to ignore the racket he was putting on while trying to get in. Because he was dead. So Miriam was stuck in there for several minutes, coming to terms with what she had done. She must have left the room both after Craig and Eric headed to town. And then she came to you in a panic. Her telling Lucy to leave her father alone until morning wasn't her hoping to avoid any yelling before she went to bed, it was to keep Lucy from discovering his body right then."
I looked out over the ocean again, twirling one of Andrea's paintbrushed mindlessly. "What I don't understand," I looked back at her, "is why the groundskeeper and mailman lied for her." Andrea's face twitched, almost imperceptibly, before becoming a smooth unreadbale expression again. "And why you are covering for her."
Andrea still said nothing, staring at me, scrutinizing.
"I would like an explanation, Andrea."
"What are you going to do?"
I looked at the paintbrush in my hand, twirled it. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. I think I'd like more of an explanation before I decide."
"You know how Miriam ended up here? They tricked her here, and then lef her. Completely cut off. Didn't even give her any money. She can't even buy a stamp without asking Arthur to give her the money for it. All because it was such an issue that they had to practically kidnap their own daughter to separate them."
She sighed, looking down at the floor.
She stood up, suddenly, and walked to the edge of the porch. Holding onto the railing, looking out across the ocean, [[she started talking.]]
How ironic.
[[<<Back|"Ugh."]] "Do you know why I moved here, and lived such a quiet life, detective[[?]] It's not just because of the view, though it is a sublime view."
I said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
"I like to be in the thick of things, to see and observe and to know everything. A trait I'm sure you've discerned by now. I don't particularly like being the topic of the talk itself, but I could handle it. I'm a strong lady.
My darling was not as strong, bless her. She needed space. So we came here. And we spent many wonderful years together, here in our little home at the edge of the ocean. I don't know what you heard detective, but it wasn't just a friend or housemate I lost several years ago." She looked over at me, meeting my gaze.
I nodded. Satisfied that I was listening and understanding, she went on.
"The grief isn't overwhelming anymore, and hasn't been in a few years. I'm still kicking, and I'm making sure I'm living a good, happy life that I enjoy. But I still miss her. So I understand how painful it can be to be separated from the one you love. And how agonizing it is to not be able to contact them. I can undersand how difficult that situation can be and how desperate it would make a person. How it could drive them to do rash things in order to get rid of any obstacles keeping them from reuniting with their love.
I wish there was some actionable thing I could do, in order to see my darling again. But there isn't. I just have to wait." She looked at me, tears in her eyes. She gave me a weak smile before turning back to the sea and drawing in a deep breath.
"I will not condemn someone for doing what I have no option to do. I cannot judge lovers for doing what they need to get to each other, when they still have the possibility to hold each other." Her voice became harder, it gained an edge. "You understand detective."
[[I miss my darling.]]
"Yes."
[[Sit in silence for another minute]]Obviously not.
But it's clearly a rhetorical question, so I keep my comment to myself.
[[<<Back|she started talking.]]They're visiting their sister across the country right now.
[[<<Back|she started talking.]]"And the groundskeeper and mailman?" I ask, once Andrea no longer seems in danger of crying.
She gave a small smile. "Well, they still have each other, but. Yeah. They understand too." She laughs weakly. "We all kind of adopted Miriam into our hearts and lives these past few months."
That was sweet. I smiled weakly at her, though she wasn't looking.
[[We sit silently, watching the ocean.]]"That's the painting you want?" Andrea asks, pulling me out of my reverie.
I look down at it, having forgoten about it in the moment. "Oh! Yes. This one."
"I suppose I should give it to you for free," she stated, her tone carefully neutral.
I raised my eyebrows at her, amused. "As much I like a good ocean painting, I don't think they would be enough to bribe me."
She raised her eyebrows at me.
"I am also not bribable in general. Just to make that clear."
She nodded at me, amused. "Good to know, detective, good to know."
I immediately get out my money and give it to her, just to make sure she doesn't try to say to pay her later and then disappear when I try to do that.
"Thank you very much, Andrea. For the painting. And the explanation."
"My pleasure detective," she pats my hand, back in her cheery mood.
"Shall we get back to the Ashbough house? Jensen will probably be back soon." I offer her my arm.
We are halfway across the long lawn when she asks.
[["So what are you going to do detective?"]]What am I going to do now?
Oh how I wish I knew.
Love certainly is an enticing and undersandable motive. At least in this [[situation.]]
Murder is murder though.
Can't really get around that one.
I see Jensen approaching the house too, coming from the direction of the town.
"Well..." I start, not knowing where I am going. I can feel Andrea's eyes on me. "Pretty much all the evidence is [[circumstantial."]]When the 'love' in question is more about possession and jealousy, it is much less understandable.
(It's sadly a lot of the cases when it's women who have been murdered.)
[[<<Back|"So what are you going to do detective?"]]I wait for Jensen on the doorstep while Andrea goes in and rejoins the others.
"Jensen! What'd you learn?"
"Lots! First, Lauren Sanchez is a very good friend of Pamela Cartwright. Pamela sends her letters and postcards all the time, and came to town specifically to visit her. They spent the whole day together Monday, which several townspeople confirmed. No way she killed Ashbough."
"Good to know she's definitely cleared. What else?"
"Well boss, [[Lauren Sanchez is an aviator!]] It was so fascinating, she showed me her plane! It was so cool! She has her own plane!"
I smiled. "How fun. About the case though Jensen, anything else about that?"
"Oh! Right! Eyewitnesses confirmed the locations of everyone, exactly where they said they were, generally at about the right times. No one could say for sure whether Khalil, Melissa, or Craig stayed in their homes all night, but they were all headed in those directions early evening and then weren't seen until the next day. So I think it's pretty safe to say none of them came back to murder Mr. Ashbough after going home. Right?"
"That's very good Jensen." Jensen beamed. "Let's go in and talk to our suspects again. I think [[I can rule some of them out."]]That is very cool.
And it is so very Jensen, to make friends wherever we go.
[[<<Back|circumstantial."]] As Jensen and I approach the sitting room, I realize I still have no idea what I'm going to do.
It's so hard to have a whole moral dilemma in the space of two minutes.
I mean...would I kill for my [[love?]]My official answer is no, of course not, murder is [[wrong.]]
And it is my job to uphold the law, for society's sake!
But I'm feeling really [[conflicted.]] My off the record answer...is...
...well, it's off the record.
[[<<Back|love?]] There's no time to be conflicted though, because here we are, standing in front of the suspects, and they've all just looked up at me, expectantly, and now I have to say something.
Andrea in particular is watching me intensely, holding Miriam's hand.
Well, when in doubt, start wih pleasantries and bullshit.
"Thank you all for staying here. It's really not an option not to, and yet every so often we get some people who think it is and it becomes a whole ordeal."
I can immediately see in Melissa's eyes that the only thing that could make this murder better for her, were if Jensen and I had to chase one of them [[down.]]I have made some fantastic tackles, chasing down flighty suspects, I won't lie.
I'm very proud of it.
[[Anyway.]]
I am still standing in front of the suspects, trying to think of something to say. Just in case you got lost. Like my brain apparently is right now.
"Khalil Gardener, Andrea Vanders,"
uh, oh, well this is happening. I hope my mouth knows what it's doing.
"Pamela Cartwright, Melissa Lawrence, Miriam Alarcon, and Martin..."
I pause as I realize I do not know the mailman's last name.
The fact that Jensen does not come in with it to save me, means they don't know it either.
Cool. I'll just act like I was planning on ending it there, then.
"You have all been cleared of suspicion in the murder of Arthur Finn Ashbough III. Feel free to travel and go about your lives as normal."
I saw Andrea breathe a sigh of relief and relax. Lucky her. She didn't still have a murder that she needed to pin on an innocent person.
"Craig Marshall, Lucille Ashbough, and Eric Wilson, I ask that you come to the local police station for continued questioning. I know I just said ask, but you have to come. There's no saying no. These officers will escort you there."
[[I nodded, done with my decisive statement.]]
Everyone left the Ashbough house then, as it was approaching dinnertime. The officers escorting the remaining suspects led the way to town.
Andrea and Miriam headed to Andrea's house to get her a sweater before they would join Khalil, Martin, and Melissa for dinner. Both Andrea and Miriam sent me quick, grateful smiles as they left. Khalil had given me an appreciative nod too.
Melissa and Pamela followed next after the suspects, chattering away about the events. Khalil and Martin were next, walking just slightly closer to each other than standard personal space boundaries would dictate.
Jensen and I brought up the rear. Pamela had invited us to dinner with her and Lauren Sanchez, her aviator friend, since we were no longer investigating her and it wouldn't be a conflict of interest.
"Those three, huh?" Jensen said, looking ahead at Lucy, Craig, and Eric. "They all definitely had the opportunity to kill Ashbough. And motives. Though I'll admit, Eric's motive is a little shaky."
"Right." I agreed. "Though this whole case is a little shaky. Practically nothing concrete. Still no blood-stained clothes showing up?"
"Nope." Jensen shook their head, disappointed.
"Looks like we'll have to hope we get a confession."
Jensen sighed. "Ugh, that always takes time. We'll probably have to work through the weekend then. You willing to work all weekend on this case boss?"
I'm always willing to work on a case all [[weekend]].
"Maybe one of them will surprise us, and confess quickly." Oh boy, do I hope one of them surprises me with a confession. I hope it'd be Craig.
"Mmm." Jensen, reasonably, wasn't willing to be that hopeful about confessions. Then, Jensen brightened. "At least we have dinner with Lauren Sanchez, an aviator, to look forward to before then."
"We do indeed." Jensen always found positives. It's one of the reasons I've always liked Jensen. "What a treat."
Except [[Saturday]], when I have some scheduled 'me time.'And Sunday afternoons, that's when I visit my grandma.
We've been crocheting scarves for everyone in the family.
[[<<Back|I nodded, done with my decisive statement.]]