Episode 20. Blue, Old, New (3)
It felt like a splash of cold water had disrupted the previously amicable atmosphere. Sothing red splattered against the window. Blood. I instinctively knew. The fallen…
Jas Stranden rushed out in a panic, shouting, “Christine, don’t look!” But I knew it was too late. Jas Stranden’s fiancée was already staring out the window, her face as pale as a sheet, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I… I saw it. I saw… I saw it all.”
The woman’s face, muttering blankly, was stained with despair.
Liam and I simultaneously jumped up and rushed to the window. I looked down while Liam looked up. Seeing what was sticking out of the flower bed just outside the restaurant, I understood why Liam had been so reluctant to attend this wedding.
It was a person. A man, still barely alive and writhing, murmured sothing while waving his hand.
“Ugh… ni.”
What? What did he say?
I was halfway out the window when Liam grabbed and shook his head. The man had stopped breathing.
I had a foreboding that this would be an ill-fated wedding.
＊ ＊ ＊
The al ended shortly after. No one could continue eating after a man fell to his death, and everyone who had witnessed the scene began to rise, overwheld by shock.
The almost unconscious bride was helped out by the hands of the guests. Jas Stranden watched her retreating figure helplessly, his lips moving silently before he leaned against the window fra. His friendly expression was now twisted in sorrow. He let out a deep sigh.
Liam Moore’s deanor was remarkably dry. Unlike , who knew this was a ga and could think of it as re data, Liam was different. He was another person living in this world. I wondered if the countless incidents had dulled his human side.
I observed his profile as he stared out the open window, tapping the window fra with his fingernails as if in deep thought. Slowly, he began to speak. He must have organized his thoughts on what to do next.
Although he called his assistant, most of the cases were solved relying on Liam’s inscrutable brain. I had grown accustod to letting his complex deductions pass without question. I was more of an observer, listening to his words and marveling at his elaborate reasoning.
“Stranden.”
Now, only the three of us remained in the restaurant. Though we all looked drained, we were certainly better off than the poor soul lying outside. I blinked and listened to Liam.
“You knew this man, didn’t you?”
Jas rubbed his forehead, then replied, “…He’s my future brother-in-law. Christine’s brother.”
“His na?”
“Justin Besson.”
A bride’s brother dying the day before the wedding! Nothing could be more horrific. I thought this couldn’t have been a voluntary death.
Though I knew from experience that people cornered emotionally could make extre choices, Justin Besson showed no such signs. His well-grood appearance suggested he was looking forward to the wedding.
His clothes, neatly pressed and clean, and his manicured nails, along with the corsage on his chest, indicated he was trying on his suit for the wedding. Everyone else was dressed casually, suggesting this.
“Why was he late to the al?”
Liam asked. Since we arrived last, others must have arrived earlier. Especially the bride’s family, who should have been preparing for the event.
Jas rolled his eyes, trying to recall. His gaze moved up to the left, and he stroked his chin with his left hand, deep in thought.
“He said he wanted to find sothing. That he had sothing for Christine… That’s what I thought, but now…”
I listened to their conversation, watching Liam and Jas alternately. My senses scread at .
This was undoubtedly a murder!
The image of the man’s wide, shocked eyes and his lips trying to say sothing lingered in my mind.
A person jumping voluntarily would usually throw themselves forward. Even if gravity flipped them mid-fall, this mansion was only about three to four stories high. Guests wouldn’t be put on the fourth floor, so it must have been the second or third floor. That height wouldn’t be enough to reverse the body’s position.
While Liam and Jas continued their conversation, I reached out to examine the dead body, using a handkerchief to avoid leaving fingerprints. I wasn’t sure if fingerprint analysis existed here, but just in case.
Interestingly, now seed like the only opportunity to examine the body closely. Jas Stranden seed disconcerted by my actions, but I ignored him.
There were no signs of beating or other injuries on Justin Besson, except for so scratches from branches. However, his fingernails had dried blood beneath them, likely a sign of a struggle. Liam Moore would think similarly.
If this hypothesis was correct, this was indeed a murder. The attacker would have scratches from Justin’s defense.
Justin had fought to survive, trying desperately to convey sothing to with his last strength.
Strangely, the scene reminded of Inspector Henry Brixon from Episode 1, moving despite his severe injuries to protect . A chill ran down my spine. Why did these things feel so real? I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
What I needed to know now was…
Right on cue, the system updated the quest.
[Investigate the Incident:
Visit the room where Justin Besson stayed
Identify suspects (Progress: 0%)]
Suspects.
Nervousness dried my lips, and I spoke to break the tension.
“Is there anyone else on this floor besides Justin Besson?”
“…No. None of the groomsn arrived earlier in the day. The others sent telegrams saying they’d arrive in the evening. Aside from the servants, it’s just us here.”
So, were the servants not here?
I began to suspect that this was an inside job. Soone Justin Besson would let into his room easily, soone he’d trust, and then resist too late, leaving scratches on their body.
Liam Moore, quietly listening, stroked his chin and looked up. He seed to understand what I was thinking.
“First, let’s take care of the body. Are you planning to continue the wedding as scheduled?”
“That’s the plan. After that, I’ll take responsibility for my brother-in-law’s… funeral.”
“If that’s your decision.”
I left them to their conversation and returned to my room. There was nothing more I could learn by staying, and I needed to quickly organize what I had found.
＊ ＊ ＊
The corridor felt colder, perhaps because of the death. I quickly returned to my room and locked the door firmly. Liam Moore would send a signal if he needed , so there was no problem. Left alone, I finally relaxed.
Until now, I had been focusing entirely on my surroundings, looking for more evidence, ensuring I missed nothing (as an observant but ordinary person, I could miss a lot, so I had to pay extra attention). I tried to catch any discrepancies in the expressions and words of those I spoke to.
In fact, I found it easier to analyze letters or statents, where repeated words or the longest sentences often revealed what the writer ant. But spoken words were like trying to catch the flowing wind, requiring to recall and review them through mory. mory could be contaminated, and without a recording device, I had to trust my recollection and verify it repeatedly.
I opened my notebook and began listing what I had understood so far.
Justin Besson seed to be looking forward to the wedding but ended up dead. Pushed by soone? If so, who?
He was a slim young man. What kind of strength would it take to push him over?
Cause of death. Impact from the fall? Massive bleeding?
Then, I felt the sa chill from earlier.
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