He made a face that said, “How on earth does Jane know this?” and then quickly hardened his expression, realizing his mistake. Unfortunately for him, I was soone who could catch even those fleeting monts.
Liam smiled bitterly as he watched my trained observational skills catch that brief slip. This was entirely his own doing, and it was also his misfortune.
If he didn’t want to get caught, he shouldn’t have co to in such an unguarded state. It’s like he’s begging to notice. In truth, he ca running in out of fear. With so many secrets that he’s afraid to reveal, why did he co to ?
If anyone heard my thoughts, they might lecture, “You two need to have a serious talk,” but sotis even the obvious is hard to achieve.
I didn’t hold back my laughter this ti. I laughed hollowly.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
Liam Moore. He knew, and that’s why he didn’t want to co here.
“You weren’t planning to tell unless I found out on my own, were you?”
He mumbled sothing briefly. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to make excuses. I shot back at him relentlessly.
“Don’t even think about making excuses. Do you think I haven’t seen you before?”
Finally, he rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply before speaking. It was an apology. One short word.
I felt deflated. If he had kept making excuses or denying it, I might have yelled, but his straightforwardness took the wind out of my sails.
“…Did you also know that his wife was murdered?”
“I saw the obituary in the newspaper about the death of the Indian aristocrat’s daughter. I didn’t know it was murder.”
“…The killer is Jas Stranden.”
Liam Moore’s expression hardened. He leaned forward slightly, making eye contact. It was the look he had when he discovered a ‘case.’ The passionate eyes I rembered.
“Tell more, in detail.”
Alia Jokins, her background, Jas Stranden’s gambling, the suspicious people frequenting his mansion, the isolated wife and her murder. The woman I t. A cri that might happen again. The salvation of Christine Besson.
After unloading all this, Liam just sat there, staring at , as if he had forgotten how to react. It seed he was quite astonished by how much I had uncovered without his knowledge.
His gray eyes were sharp. As always, they were bright and clear. The previously pale face had regained so color and now showed so calmness. He was clearly able to think again.
“Have you been investigating this since last evening?”
“…Yes, I have.”
He pondered deeply for a mont with his forehead in his hand, then looked up.
“It would be best if we could stop the wedding. You could convey this without upsetting her, right? But we have no solid evidence, only supernatural experiences…”
Frankly, he wouldn’t believe that I t Alia Jokins either. “What? You t a dead person? Are you out of your mind?” That’s what he would probably say. I appreciated how easily Liam believed , but that was because he knew he was in the wrong.
Liam asked a question.
“In this situation, do you think Christine Besson would call off the wedding just based on this? Without suspecting us?”
He was right. Christine Besson, weakened by her brother’s death, would be the type to cling to soone, not the type to storm off.
“We have to persuade her first. Maybe we’ll need to tell a white lie.”
“Then…”
I raised my index finger decisively.
“We’ll say we were hired by a distant relative of Alia Jokins. While investigating her sudden death, we discovered that she was already married. She was healthy, never even caught a cold, but suddenly fell ill and died, coughing up blood. It was too suspicious. So we started looking into it and found Jas Stranden’s debts and records of shady dealings. That’s why we’re here. A large sum of money went missing. But where would that money go? Sothing fishy is going on.”
The story, concocted from Alia Jokins’ testimony, was sowhat flimsy, but there were suspicious points. Even if it wasn’t concrete, it was enough to make soone wary.
Liam Moore now seed to admire my boldness, and I felt the sa. The skill to weave such a tale was quite impressive. I was half-satisfied with my own story, thinking, “As expected, the blood of Koreans, skilled in agitation and fabrication, runs through !”
“My assistant, where did you learn such eloquence?”
I laughed heartily.
“Perhaps it’s the effect of early education?”
“I’m now in awe.”
The brilliance of early education in South Korea shines. Be proud, adults obsessed with private education. The escape route for children fleeing early education is gaming.
People trained in political gas from a young age through various gas end up like this. Be careful. Don’t casually beta-test unknown gas thinking, “Surely, I won’t get imrsed in a ga.”
“If I were the bride and heard that, I’d walk out imdiately.”
My thoughts were interrupted.
Bride Liam? Liam Schofield Moore in a veil?
I asked playfully.
“Really, in a dress?”
He finally relaxed and smiled.
“In a dress.”
After this not-quite-reconciliation, Liam Moore beca very cooperative. He answered questions promptly and didn’t even try to think of any clever retorts. He probably realized he had crossed a line today. Indeed, he had, but seeing him reflect on his actions cooled my anger bit by bit.
He sat quietly as I planned how to ‘disrupt the wedding,’ listening intently. Even when I scratched my head and said, “Should I just shoot Jas Stranden?” he remained composed.
What was his reaction?
“You don’t have the experience, so shooting would require practice. Just tell , and I’ll do it.”
Of course, what I learned about Liam Moore today (that he hid the truth from ) was just the tip of the iceberg. Liam Moore had many secrets, and undoubtedly, there were much bigger ones hidden behind his polished facade.
But for now, solving this case and preventing future victims was the most important thing. If I got swept up in personal grievances and fought, it would only frustrate .
Whether it’s unfortunate or fortunate, it’s uncertain when I might leave this 19th-century England, so I have plenty of ti to dig into Liam Moore.
So today, I won’t pry further. I am an adult who understands the virtue of silence.
Whatever he is hiding, whether it’s an apple, a fig, or a fruit dripping with sin like blood, trying to deceive with a serpent’s tongue, or if he genuinely cares for , I will find out soday.
＊ ＊ ＊
I woke up to a blinding light. After blinking several tis, my vision returned. My body felt heavy.
I rembered falling asleep late at night, chatting in a room that wasn’t mine. I rembered Liam mumbling uncomfortably. Then I must have fallen asleep, and now it was this ti.
7 a.m.
As I lay there, the light coming through the window grew stronger. The fire in the fireplace had died down, leaving only a few red embers between the blackened logs. The chill of late autumn was gradually filling the room.
Ignoring it, I got up and opened the window.
My eyes filled with the silence. I watched the morning mist cross the harvested wheat fields and spread to the mansion.
Where did it co from? I wondered briefly. Is there a lake nearby? I didn’t know. Maybe it ca from an artificial reservoir.
There was a fresh sll of water and crushed grass. The day was dawning.
Ah, looking at the sun, a red mass rising and coloring the horizon, I thought.
“It’s perfect weather for a wedding!”
And to disrupt that wedding.
It took quite so ti to get dressed, so I started preparing imdiately.
I added more logs to the dying fire to warm the room, then took out my clothes. Normally, I’d wear several layers of petticoats and then a skirt, but today I dressed lightly in case sothing happened.
I secured the .45 caliber six-shot revolver, my reliable partner on my thigh. Instead of a solemn prayer, I murmured, “Please, don’t let have to draw this gun.”
After tidying up my clothes and thoroughly pinning up my hair, I heard a knock on the door. A sharp, punctual sound.
I checked the ti. 7:50 a.m. I raised my voice to answer.
“Co in.”
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