Realistic or Modern A Case Study of the Curious

[Pepsionne]

Main thread for detective x assistant role play with sunnieside

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax​

Silas’ eyes followed the steady stream of sugar as it flowed into his coffee. He peered up at the sound of Nigel huffing in disapproval, to which he rolled his eyes. “What, Nigel. I know you want to say something.”

“I’m surprised your teeth haven’t rotted out yet,” Nigel sneered, turning his face away from the sugary coffee and instead towards the steadily moving landscape outside.

“Dental hygiene is nothing to joke about, Nigel,” Silas scolded. He turned the container of sugar upright just as the train rocked hard to the left, sending his coffee into a tumble back and forth within the metal mug that the attendant had provided. He rested his hand upon the rim of the cup, tilting it accordingly to counteract the sway and coax the coffee into a calm state once more. “I happen to take excellent care of my teeth,” Silas finished, taking a sip of the coffee smugly once Nigel glanced back his way. Silas let out a satisfied, “ah” after he had swallowed the warm liquid, grinning mischievously at his friend’s visceral disgust.

The detective and his friend were on their way to Georgianna Hastings’ annual garden party in the countryside. As much as the two hated the formalities that choked the environment with a serpent-like grip, the food was always excellent and the alcoholic drinks (more importantly) were always free. Not to mention, after all the help Silas’ adoptive sister had contributed to his cases, it was the least he could do in return.

“Which unlucky ladies do you predict Gigi will try to seat at our table this time?” Nigel mused, his icy eyes scanning the rolling green hills that swam by.

“Mmm,” Silas hummed, crossing his arms and sinking back into his seat while he thought. “Hopefully someone from the Duke’s inner circle. I’d love to appear so charismatic and handsome that they blab on and on about me to the Duke for months.”

“Oh--Philip,” Silas mimed dramatically, one arm outstretched into the air for theatrical effect. “Why that Silas friend of yours, he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. A rose by which in comparison you, my dear friend Philip, are but a mere weed in the mud,” He clutched his chest in mock agony. “What a brilliant, captivating man, that Silas. If only he had not taken my heart and run. I’ll never love another man again.” Silas pretended to faint daintily back into the booth of the train seat with a winded sigh, peeking with one eye to check for Nigel’s reaction.

Nigel stared at Silas flatly, but a chuckle of amusement cracked through at his friend’s jab against the Duke. “A weed indeed, if you ask me,” Nigel mumbled. He shifted in his seat, resting his head in the crook of his palm. He traced one finger along the texture of the table between them with no destination in mind. It almost appeared to Silas as if he was sulking. “I don’t get why Gigi feels the need to throw potential matches at us left and right anyways. I feel like she’s always trying to get us into marriage every second.”

Silas shrugged and picked his coffee up to take another sip. He chose to ignore the visible pain in Nigel’s body language and instead deflect the topic elsewhere. “Well, we are eligible, good looking bachelors with high standing reputations,” Silas smiled slyly. “I suspect she’s trying to pawn us off to a woman of ‘good value’ while we’re still at our peak. Who wouldn’t want their daughter to marry the number one detective in the country or his dashing, gentlemanly receptionist.”

“Call me your receptionist again and I swear that sugar won’t be the only thing to make your teeth fall out,” Nigel warned, his expression deadly.

Silas chuckled, scratching his head at the sudden tension in his friend’s expression. “Now now, you know I’m only kidding.”

Nigel opened his mouth to respond with a snarky comment, but his jaw snapped shut at the sound of the train car door sliding open abruptly. The look in his eyes soured as he saw who sauntered in shortly after. “Don’t look now, but the ever so gentlemanly lawyer Albert Cunningham is headed through the car.”

Silas, of course, took no heed of Nigel’s warning and popped his head out of the booth to peer in the direction of the disturbance. He took in the sight of Albert’s slightly pudgy, crumpled form sauntering down the aisle. He held a wine ticket proudly in one hand, almost as if he was showing off to the empty car that he could afford it. Silas sat properly back into his booth with Nigel, a look of disgust painted across his face.

“Is it possible that his skin’s gotten even worse since the last time we were in court? I swear he must be drinking rat poison or something to get it that pallor,” Silas mused to Nigel, who kicked his shin aggressively to shut the former up.

Silas grunted in pain, doubling over with his chest pressed against the table and his hand cradling his shin to nurse his new wound. Albert paused when he reached their booth, turning his frame to face the two fully.

“I thought I saw those familiar cat eyes of yours, Detective Morgan,” Albert chuckled darkly at the coincidence, but his face clearly showed that he found no humor in the matter. “What are the pair of you doing outside of London? Finally found a cause that pleased his royal palate?”

Silas and Nigel’s features stiffened in tandem at Albert’s snide comment. “Well, no matter,” The lawyer began again before either of them could retort. “I should really be thanking you, my business is booming with all the half baked cases the police force throws my way. It’s too easy anymore, with all the evidence they miss.”

“I’m sure all the murderers and delinquents are rejoicing,” Silas deadpanned.

Albert narrowed his eyes at Silas. “I never turn down a case from someone in need,” He boasted. “I care for my clients’ wellbeing and I get them the outcome that they hope for, not the one they deserve. Not many people can pull off something like that on a daily basis.”

Silas rolled his eyes at the obvious chest puffing from the man before him. “A true unicorn, can you believe it, Nigel?” He scoffed. “With our luck today we might damn well find the gold at the end of the rainbow, too.” He grinned cheekily at Albert, but the gleam was coated sharply in hostility.

“Well--” Albert huffed, the skin on his neck reddening in anger. “I’ll see you in court, if you ever decide your job is worth doing again,” Albert stated, turning sharply from the two men and stalking the rest of the way down the aisle.

Silas mimicked the lawyer’s expressions back to Nigel, who coughed loudly in an attempt to cover his laugh. He heard Albert conversing again further up in the car, peeking out of the booth to see who the old coot could possibly have been speaking to. Silas' eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise at seeing a shock of blonde hair seated several rows in front of them. He didn't know anyone else had been seated in here. Odd. He supposed she must have sunk low into the seat to avoid being seen. Dozens of scenarios flashed into Silas’ mind as he thought through the situation. He had remembered seeing a blonde woman among those clustered in wait for the train, which eased his itch for deducing her strange motives. She was most likely looking for an uninterrupted train ride, a desire which Albert was not privy to understanding, given his failed attempt at a conversation with her.

Silas rightened himself back into his booth with Nigel, swirling the coffee within his cup absently. He didn’t like to admit it, but Albert’s comment had left quite a sting. The lawyer wasn’t wrong, Silas hadn’t taken on a serious case in months. The amount of proposals they had gotten had dwindled to next to nothing as well, the people too afraid of rejection to even give it a try, lest they were truly desperate. His eyes stilled and grew cold as he watched the slowing movement of his coffee. The itch for detective work was still there, beckoning him forward at every corner. Silas just hoped he would soon come across a case enthralling enough to satisfy it.

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

A day and a half ago, Elise was determined to find this legendary detective, but it seemed that her motivation diminished since then. Maybe it was because she didn’t know where to start so she ended up wandering around London all day with a big bag of money. She was surprised she didn’t get mugged. Or maybe it was because she ended up sightseeing and became distracted by all the bakeries she would walk by. Or maybe it was those drunk and creepy men that decided to follow her while she was trying to find a hotel to stay at last night. Ever since Elise fought with those men, she was ready to fight another disgusting man. Elise sighed and realized that maybe it was because she became too distracted during her search for Silas Morgan that she didn’t know where to start. If only fate would magically plop this detective in front of her.

Elise decided to go to the train station because in the newspaper she found about Silas Morgan, it said that he solved a case at London’s train station. Elise dragged her feet to the train station and debated where to go. It wasn’t like she had a home to go to. If she had a family, she would have seen signs, or the police would have approached her and asked if she was this missing person while holding up a picture of her. She thought it was strange that she woke up drinking tea with no memory of who she was. It seemed that somebody purposely wiped her memories since she also found herself with a bag full of money. It was no matter. Whoever erased Elise’s memories probably wanted her to live well since she has all that money. Maybe she could use the money to invest?

Right before she decided to give up and figure out how to invest her money, she spotted a loud and boisterous man with golden eyes waiting for his train. Elise was surprised she could spot him. He was several yards away, but her eyes spotted him like a hawk. This was another thing that Elise discovered about herself: her eyesight is superb. Was it destiny that right before Elise gave up on finding Silas Morgan that he suddenly appeared before her very eyes? Maybe. She seemed to be lucky lately. Hopefully, her luck doesn’t run out.

Elise hoisted her bag up to her chest and pushed through several angry people to the ticket booth. The ticket master coughed his pastry as he saw this small, blonde woman shove herself to the front of the line panting. Elise gasped and pointed, “I…I need to go wherever that train is going!”

“…you mean to Shere, Surrey?” the ticket master choked as he pounded on his chest to get that last bit of pastry out.

“Uh sure, wherever Silas Morgan is going to.”

Once the ticket master recovered, he rolled his eyes, “Oh, that arrogant detective? Yes, he is going to Shere, Surrey. Are you a fan of his?”

Elise quickly nodded, wanting the ticket master to hurry and sell her a train ticket. The ticket master laughed and muttered that the detective would get a kick of having an obsessed fan on his tail. Elise grabbed the ticket and her money bag and dashed towards the line to the detective’s train. Once she got in line, she noticed she got even closer to the detective and his friend. Elise caught herself staring at the taller man to which he turned to catch her gaze. Flustered, she quickly looked away, and hopefully, he and his friend didn’t notice her staring.

Even though Elise was the last person to get in line for the train, she seemed to be the first few people to get on. One other thing that she discovered that she liked to do the day and a half after she became an amnesiac is that she loved to watch people. Maybe it’s because she is slowly learning the world around her since she is basically a newborn chicken. Elise wasn’t sure why she thought of newborn chickens, but she suspects that she has an overactive imagination. While sitting in her She watched a young and innocent-looking woman and a proper, young man walk into different booths. Then a middle-aged man followed by a tired older man. Elise was basically leaning out of her seat to try to see who else would walk in next. Suddenly, Elise dove in her seat when she heard obnoxious laughter burst through the train car. She peered out of her seat to see Silas and his friend sitting several seats behind her. Now Elise must figure out how to approach this man about her case. Would he even take it?

While pondering, a young waitress’s question interrupted Elise’s thoughts. Elise requested she wanted an earl grey with vanilla, cream, and sugar. The waitress raised a brow, “You mean a London Fog?”

Oh, so is that not a recipe I made up? Elise thought. She chuckled, “Yes, that.”

After the waitress left and came back with her drink, Elise felt herself bumping around in her seat. She wondered what could be making the commotion and she frowned when a pumpkin-shaped older man stomped his way down the aisle. Immediately, Elise felt disgusted. She did not know the man, but she could tell this man would be on the world’s creepiest men list. His snooty nose peering down at those he felt superior to. His slimy smile shooting conceited insults at the detective and his friend. Elise shivered and hoped the creepy man doesn’t approach her any time soon. Or maybe he should. She was still in the mood to fight a disgusting man.

Maybe Elise should have knocked on wood after thinking that because after the nasty and sweaty man talked with the two men, he decided to speak to her. Elise was still debating whether the interaction was a good thing since she may be able to get what she wanted. The creepy man gave a smug smile, “Hello sweet kitten. Would you like to experience a man with money and talent?”

Elise felt her face heat up as fury and hatred for creepy men dramatically increased. How dare he verbally and sexually invade her personal space? Elise glared at the man and spat at him, “With you? Please. No beautiful woman such as I would ever grace you with her existence to a man such as dog shit such as yourself!”

She huffed, grabbed her belongings, and shoved the older man to the side once she stood up. Elise glared, “Now if you could excuse me, I have some important matters I need to attend to.”

Elise stomped down the aisle and stopped at Silas ad his friend’s table. The amnesiac chugged her tea and slammed it on their table, “My name is Elise Grey. Well, that’s not really my name. I don’t even know what my real name is. I got my first name while listening to Fur Elise on piano and Grey from the earl grey tea at the café I woke up in. I was drinking tea when I discovered I have amnesia because after relishing in my tea, I didn’t know who I was. I also found myself with an old newspaper with your name on it and a huge bag full of money. Oh, and that reminds me. Here.”

The angry woman dumped pounds of money onto the men’s table. Once Elise dumped her entire potential investment money onto the table, she blushed. “Oh wait, I need some of that money for clothes and a place to stay. So…” Elise quietly grabbed a portion of the money and dropped it in her bag, “Here’s how much I will be paying you to take my case.”

It seems that Elise’s anger wore off. Once she realized what she did, she blushed harder in embarrassment. Amazing! Another discovery: Elise has a temper towards creepy men.

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax​

“You know, Silas,” Nigel began, noting his friend's suddenly serious demeanor after Albert’s brief conversation. “He does have a point. You haven’t taken a case for months. Why don’t you just give one a try? Would it really be that bad?”

Silas looked up at Nigel, his ingrained rejection at the proposition already formed in the back of his throat. “Nigel,” He started, “You know I--”

But his excuse never came. They both jolted at the sudden raised voice that crashed through the train car. The pair stared at each other for several seconds to confirm, ‘yes we both really did hear that.’ Silas peered down the long carpeted aisle for the source of the commotion. He saw the tail end of Albert slamming the train door shut, and the blonde woman standing in her booth with a face twisted into rage. She was carrying a heavy looking bag in one hand and a fragile looking teacup in the other. Silas glanced over at Nigel, his face heavily lined with confusion. Who was this woman?

Once Silas saw the woman begin to gather her things with a body language that screamed she was intent on leaving, he snapped up into his seat and took his coffee up into his hand. He gestured with wide eyes for Nigel to preoccupy himself as well, muttering incoherent instructions that left the latter staring at him blankly. The sound of stomping footsteps clicked the final clue in place for Nigel, who cleared his throat as he scrambled to pick up the half folded newspaper that had been chucked off to the side of the table. Silas took a sip of his coffee once he sensed the figure of the woman rounding the side of their booth. He looked at the back of the paper Nigel held as if he was also studying it. Silas choked on the sip of coffee he had just taken. Unbeknownst to Nigel, the newspaper was upside down.

Luckily enough for the two of them, the woman didn’t seem very much interested in whether or not they had been eavesdropping in on her conversation. Nigel tried to remain polite, but he couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open as he watched the blonde chug her tea in one go and slam the cup and saucer down onto their table. Silas flinched at the feeling of a stray droplet spattering onto the side of his face.

Silas and Nigel listened silently, stunned, to the woman ramble on about the predicament she had found herself in. Silas’ eyes found Nigel’s briefly, only to see the man in utter shock at what he was hearing. What was--happening right now?

Silas held up his hands defensively once Elise reached around for the bag. “Wait--wait whoa--” he started, but Elise didn’t give him a chance to get a word in. She dumped the piles of cash on the table, which Silas and Nigel both seemed to recoil away from in fear. The stacks of money clamored onto the table with a repetitive weighted thud. Stacks began to fall off of the unstable mountain, sliding onto the floor and spreading its territory further out.

Nigel didn’t try to hide his shock anymore, he stared open mouthed at the mountain of cash now seated before them, every nerve in his body telling him that this woman was bad news. He was glad to see that Silas felt the same, the detective looking paler than usual at the rapid chain of events that had unfolded in the last several seconds.

“Wait wait wait, “ Silas said, shaking his head in confusion. “Listen, Miss Grey, I’ve had a lot of proposals in the past but this--I can’t just accept something like this, let alone wrap my head around what you’re asking of me right now,” He said. Silas noted the flush of embarrassment that had swept across the woman’s face, no doubt caused by the delayed realization of her brash actions. His expression softened a bit before he slid further into the booth, ignoring the daggers that Nigel sent his way. He gestured for her to join him. “Why don’t you sit down, take a breath, and explain to us in more detail, what exactly you’re going through,” Silas said.

Nigel cleared his throat loudly, staring pointedly between Silas and the money. “Oh--and, you should put that away, really. You don’t know who could be watching and waiting to rob you,” Silas said, scratching his head at the sheer level of value their table suddenly held. Elise wasn’t kidding, she really did have a ton of cash. It immediately stirred a pool of doubt in Silas’ mind about who this woman was claiming to be. It wasn’t everyday that someone with amnesia popped up loaded with cash. The money had to be tied to some kind of illegal trade. Was she a mule of some kind? An undercover plant hoping to catch him in a web of dirty or ill gotten money?

“So you have amnesia,” Silas started, glancing towards Elise briefly to establish her attention was focused on him. “You suddenly spring into consciousness yesterday after a refreshing cup of tea,” He gestured to the empty cup she had slammed down that was now buried and most likely broken under the piles of cash. “When you suddenly realize, you don’t know who the hell you are. Is that correct?” Silas asked. His eyes scanned her person looking for some type of clue. Her clothes seemed ordinary London fashion current to their season. He could recognize the stitching lining the garments, meaning it must have been made locally and at one of the quality level tailor shops. Her accent and dialect matched with their area as well. She was a native Londoner, that much was for sure. Judging by her slim build and pale complexion, Silas guessed that she was upper middle class at worst. Her hands looked clean and without callouses or scars so that ruled out her occupation as something involving hard labor. Maybe she was simply an anxious young maiden looking to cause trouble for her parents by going around pretending she had no clue who she was.

“So you had no clue who you were, where you were or what you were doing--and your first thought was to seek out Silas in order to goad him into helping you with your bounty of cash?” Nigel quirked an eyebrow at Elise, clearly put off by the woman’s sudden and unordinary behavior. “You don’t see why we of all people would be hard pressed to buy that story? I don’t mean to be crass, Miss Grey, but you’re talking to the number one detective agency in London, not some gullible bloke ten beers in at the pub.”

“It’s those damn newspapers,” Silas mumbled, his expression turning exasperated. “They always bring the weirdest cases to me at the most inconvenient times. Now do you get why I tell those annoying reporters things like I solve our cases using the power of unicorn dust and friendship? To keep things like this from happening to me,” He gestured up and down at Elise. “No offense,” He added with a quick glance in her direction. After a beat, Silas turned to Elise with a new tactic in mind. "Tell me, what does the Deft Hand Detective Agency have to gain from taking on a case like yours? Besides money of course, but that ranks pretty low for me anyways."

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

One other thing Elise discovered about herself was that it seems that she doesn’t think when her temper gets the best of her. Hopefully these tantrums don’t happen as often. Actually, these last couple seconds of her storming up to these men and dumping all the money on their table was all a blur. Now she really hopes these tantrums are just rare occurrences because she might do something she might regret.

Taking Silas’s offer and ignoring his friend’s death stare, Elise slid into the seat. She plopped her head onto the cash-covered table and tried to recollect her thoughts. Goodness, if that creepy asshole didn’t try to whisper his slimy sweet nothings to Elise’s ear then maybe she would have approached the men a bit gentler. She remembered her initial plan was to awkwardly walk up to the men and ask if they could hear her out. Yet, she ended up frightening these men with her tantrum and Silas is now saying he can’t wrap his head around her predicament and probably can’t accept her case. If only she thought before she acted.

“…explain to us in more detail, what exactly you’re going through,”

Elise perked her head up and her eyes widened in surprise. After that chaotic event, this detective was still willing to listen? Elise took a deep breath and began telling her short story of life while grabbing stacks of cash to put in her bag. It was relaxing while she was telling her story since she was focusing on putting each stack in her bag one by one. Maybe money calms her down.

The first thing she did was apologize for her rude actions and was sure they probably didn’t expect a hot-headed woman storming into the men’s booth spouting nonsense at them. Elise grinned and answered Silas’s questions, “I completely understand if you both don’t believe me but I appreciate you both for hearing me out. Let me start over and calmly introduce myself. My name is Elise Grey and it is a name I came up for myself because I have amnesia. And yes, both of your statements are correct. Let me explain in more detail.”

Elise explained that she was in the middle of drinking tea at a cafe called The Barn Owl around 9:00 in the morning when she realized she couldn’t remember who she was. She noted that she was only missing memories of her life but was able to recall trivia facts of daily life. At the cafe, Elise noticed that it seemed she was there for a while because the plate in front of her was empty and she had felt full. She wasn’t sure what to do next but spotted an older newspaper of how a legendary Silas Morgan solved a case at the London train station. She was going to go to the train station yesterday but she got distracted and discovered bits and pieces about herself. She discovered she loves desserts since she stopped by at every bakery she saw yesterday. She knows how to fight because she fought a couple of drunkards last night when they were following her. And now she found out that she has a bit of a temper and hopefully it’s just towards creepy men. She has a suspicion that somebody purposely wiped her memories and set herself up to find the legendary detective but she wasn’t sure for what. For now, she just wanted to figure out who she was and who has done this to her. She also noted that she assumes she doesn’t have any family because it has been a day and a half and there hasn’t been any missing person signs for her.

Elise turned towards the suspicious friend when he summarized her situation and motives. She couldn’t blame him for being suspicious of her. Who would believe a strange woman with a bag full of money that claims she has amnesia? Elise definitely wouldn’t, so why should they? She began fiddling with her fingers once she had picked up all of the cash and replied to the friend, “I understand that I am highly suspicious because of my story and strange behaviors. However, I’m not sure if you can tell but I am desperate. This world is so new to me and I don’t know anyone. I’m not sure if both of you had amnesia, but it is a frightening experience. Thus, I am more likely to do bizarre things.” She paused, “I was considering on giving up and figuring out how to invest with this money so I could start a new life. But I would want to attempt to find out why I am like this before I give up, so that is why I am here to you two. Now, I must admit I should have approached you both in a calm manner beforehand so I will apologize once more for that.”

Elise looked over to Silas commenting about how the newspapers would send him strange cases such as hers and she grimaced. She definitely deserved that comment, especially after that tantrum. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she could have handled that better. Also, she felt it strange that she was already annoyed with this Silas character for some reason. He has done nothing to her so far especially since he offered to listen to her, but he just seemed extremely irritating.

Then, Silas’s next question shocked her. What do they gain from taking her case? Other than money, she has nothing to offer the two men. Are they wanting her to offer her body? Elise shivered. If so, that is disgusting. However, these men do not seem to be that type of people. What can can she offer them? She doesn’t have many valuable skills since she’s slowly discovering them unless…

“Muscle.” Elise blurted, “I can fight! I may not look like it but I can be used as a bodyguard. I have fought men before.” She stopped, and realized that may not be what Silas was asking. She sighed, “To be completely fair, the Deft Hand Detective Agency probably will not gain much from a woman like me since I am still learning about myself. But what I have learned about Silas Morgan is that he hasn’t taken a case in several months.”

Elise turned to Silas and smirked, “I have lightly researched about you, you know. Through my sightseeing, I have talked to the townsfolk. I learned that you have become picky in what cases you want to solve and nobody has been sending cases your way because they fear rejection. My case is the first case you have been given in a while and with the lack of clues and the never ending mystery about me, I’m sure I will fill your appetite for a good mystery.”

She put out her hand for a handshake, “Now, what do you say Detective Morgan?”

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax​

“Muscle,” Was Elise’s response to Silas’ loaded question about what her case could offer them. He could tell that she had spent a bit of time thinking about the answer beforehand by the perplexed look that had hardened the woman’s previously soft features. Put simply, it was not an answer Silas was prepared to hear from her. He laughed heartily, falling back into the window of their booth. “You are quite a surprise, Miss Grey, in more ways than one,” He smiled broadly, letting out another round of amused laughter. “Now, Nigel and I don’t carry many skills when it comes to fighting, so it’s an intriguing offer, I’ll give you that.”

His expression twitched, losing all remnants of previous amusement when she brought up his lack of cases. “Give me a break,” he thought to himself. He glanced over at Nigel, who seemed impressed by Elise’s jab at Silas’ pride. It seemed like he was getting it from all angles today. Couldn’t a detective long for intriguing mysteries and not be criticized for turning down mind numbing busywork? Silas straightened his posture and looked down at the woman seated next to him, his demeanor changed into a serious level of contemplation. He stared at her outstretched hand.

Silas had asked the woman to explain in further detail what had happened to her, not only to gain a better grasp on the situation, but also to allow him more insight into her body language and descriptions. Lying was easy, so long as your answers were short and to the point. Extend the time of the liar’s descriptions, however, and tell tale signs would show themselves clearly. After Elise’s calm explanation, Silas deduced that she really must have been telling the truth. The details she provided were too random even for a made up alibi. They followed no line of intent and lacked any sense of established rationality behind them, signaling that she really was just wandering around with fragmented pieces of how society worked. Silas had already been inclined to believe her claim of amnesia the second she stormed up to them and chugged her tea in one go. No woman of her status would even fathom doing that, lest their mind had already completely wiped away any sense of self image.

“Alright, Miss Grey,” Silas smirked. “You’ve gained my interest, consider yourself lucky. Give me some time to think it over,” He said, grabbing the still upside down newspaper from Nigel’s hand to look it over for himself. He turned his wrist over to check the gleaming watch face that rested there, eyes narrowing as he took in the time. “We have about another three hours until we reach our destination. Give me two of those. I have a process with these kinds of things, I can’t give you an answer right away,” He stated. With that, Silas snapped the newspaper with a flick of his wrist, shaking it into a flattened, readable position.

Nigel shrugged apologetically towards Elise. He had calmed down since the woman had explained to them in further detail everything she had gone through. He knew Silas well enough to guess what he was thinking. The detective had been prodding the woman to talk longer, to explain herself fully, hoping to uncover a web of lies had there been one. Judging by the slack posture he saw in Silas, he knew that she had been telling the truth. Her numerous apologies had also helped to ease his previous apprehension of having her join them. He was still wary of her true intentions, yet Nigel couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman. She had put all of her stock in Silas, unaware of the eccentricity and cocky attitude the detective was known for. To the public, Silas was a brilliant prodigy turned genius that could solve any case handed his way. To those in their industry who got to know him, he was endlessly conceited and patronizing, no matter the level of his success.

Nigel sat back and looked out of the window, contemplating what he should do for the next two hours that they had a guest seated at their table. An idea sparked in his mind, and he reached into the bag seated next to him, pulling out a book to hand to Elise. The title read, The Unspoken Rules of Proper Society. He had originally brought it for Silas, since the man had trouble not making a fool of himself at Georgianna’s events, but he figured Elise might make use of it as well. “Silas and I don’t really care for formalities,” He started, laying the book on the table before her. “But it might be wise for you to read up on what others will be expecting of you. It’ll help you blend in more until you can figure out who you are and how you ended up this way,” He offered a gentle smile before picking up his own book and beginning to read.

--

The two hours Silas had given himself to contemplate his decision on Elise’s case passed by quicker than he thought. He had imagined the presence of a stranger at their table would make the time tick by sluggish and awkward, but to his preference, each of them had become absorbed in their own thoughts and distractions. The ambient sounds of the train helped drown out the heaviness of complete silence, clacking wheels and the occasional loud whistle filling the air around them so that they didn’t feel the need to fill it with idle conversation.

Within the two hours that their small group had been absorbed in their own amusements, Silas had noted two passengers (besides the waitress) pass through from the train car behind them. One looked to be a young man in his later years at academy. Silas recognized the spring uniform from one of the academies in the outskirts of London. The other was a woman, whose attire denoted her age to be somewhere in her late teens. Not a little girl, but the style of her dress certainly didn’t fit a woman of age either. He wondered if she had any ties to the boy who had walked through before. A couple had entered into their car from the opposite end, heading towards the food cart and bathrooms that were located in the car directly behind them. Judging by the wife's nauseated expression, Silas assumed the husband had tagged along to ensure her wellbeing.

Silas set down the newspaper once two hours had passed by on the dot, his grin mischievous as he took in Elise’s side profile which was still concentrated elsewhere. He leaned in towards her. “Tell you what, Miss Grey, answer one more question for me and I’ll decide whether to take on your case. Wha--” Silas never got to finish. A piercing scream sounded from two cars before them. Even having been muffled by the distance and walls, the sound was still distinct enough to send a shiver down both Silas and Nigel’s spines. Silas stood from his seat, gesturing rapidly for Elise to exit so he could check out the source of the scream.

Silas bounded down the aisle of the train car with long, brisk strides, traversing through the two cars in no time at all. He turned to see that Nigel was hot on his heels, Elise a little further back having been weighed down by her bag, which Silas now knew was stuffed full of money.

His expression levelled into a serious countenance upon coming up to the source of the commotion. The nauseated couple from earlier were standing by an open door to one of the private cabins, their faces pale and the woman crying in a panicked fear. Silas inhaled sharply as he finally rounded up to the scene in the room. There on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of dark glassy blood, was none other than the body of the prestigious lawyer Albert Cunningham.

Silas heard Nigel sigh heavily from beside him. His friend had pinched his nose, screwing his eyes shut after witnessing the scene. "Gigi's going to kill us for this," Nigel muttered under his breath so that only Silas could hear. The detective couldn't help but agree. A case right now was one of the last things he wanted to do. He had been looking forward to the free drinks Georgianna's garden party would entail.

Silas gripped the doorway once the train’s wheels squealed with the high pitch of hot metal. He braced himself against the sudden change of momentum, the force pushing him hard into the frame as the entire train came to a gradual stop. Word must have gotten through to the conductor, there was no way they could continue onward without notifying the police.

A few others had clustered around the scene by now, each of them wearing a similar expression of panic and fear. One of them, a middle aged man, looked to Silas with a glint of recognition in his eyes. “Hey--aren’t you--aren’t you that detective?” He asked.

Silas simply nodded. “Detective Morgan,” He bowed as much as he could manage towards the man in the cramped space. “On the case, apparently,” He mumbled. Although Albert had been right, Silas was long overdue for a serious case to get his name back in the good graces of society, Silas had never expected the one to be giving him that case would be Albert himself. He would have laughed at the irony, but given the somber air, decided against it.

“Nigel, could you gather everyone into one car? I think it’s best from here on out that we keep everyone organized and accounted for. We’ll worry about where to interview later,” Silas said. Nigel nodded curtly and turned away from the gruesome scene in the room before them. He began herding people towards the car in front of them with little to no resistance.

Silas turned towards Elise, a mischievous gleam sparking in his eyes like a cat who had just spotted prey. “Tell you what, Miss Grey. There are eleven people on this train right now. Nine passengers, including you, me and Nigel, and two attendants, the waitress and the conductor. One of these eleven is a murderer,” He stated boldly, his eyes giddy in the thrill of the case. “Now, if you can guess the culprit correctly at the end of my investigation, I’ll take your case on. If you guess wrong, well, I suggest you head down to our lovely London Police Department and beg them to help you instead.” He stuck out his hand. A cocky, lopsided smirk adorned his face as he looked down at Elise. “What do you say, Miss Grey?”

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

Elise didn’t realize how quickly these two hours of contemplation would pass by. She wondered what could have convinced him to think about it. Maybe he was evaluating her while she explained her dilemma to see if she was lying or not. Luckily, it seems she passed the test because he gave her a timeframe of how long it will take him to decide if he wants to take her case.

The friend, who was introduced as Nigel, handed her a book about how to behave in proper society. That would be helpful to know, she thought and thanked Nigel. Elise began skimming through the book. There were various facts of what to do in a social event amongst prestigious groups of people. Such as politely conversing with people of higher status than her to jump ranks in society. Or being able to keep your mouth shut when disagreeing with others, especially those of a higher rank than her. Saying “please” or “thank you” when requesting things from others. Having to pop the pinky finger out whenever one is drinking tea. Elise thought the entire book was a little silly and felt it rude to those that are in a class lower than her. The book seemed as if it was aimed towards the upper class and honestly, Elise had no idea what class she even belonged to. With the amount of money she has in her bag, she would assume she is at least high middle class.

However, there was a chapter that absolutely infuriated her. She had to take a break skimming the book because of it. It was about how a woman should act in a modern, proper society. A woman should be at a man’s beck and call. A woman should be groomed to be the perfect wife for the hardworking husband. A woman should be prepped to be the mother of her husband’s children. A woman should refrain from acting brashly or manly that would prevent potential husbands from approaching her. Basically, a woman does not and will not have the same opportunities as a man since she is meant to be the perfect housewife in a proper society. Elise thought that chapter was ridiculous and concluded that the book was written by a single, lonely, slimy worm who has nothing better to do than to establish supposed rules to how a person should function in society. A worm that is similar to that disgusting dog shit that tried to flirt his way to Elise’s heart earlier. Either way, Elise knew that even though this book was judgmental, she probably needed to know how to restrain herself from acting out in society. Nobody would want to witness a fiery woman cursing innocent people about what angered her. Maybe she does have quite a temper in general.

Elise pushed the book to the side and looked to see Silas observing passengers passing through the aisle. Maybe that’s what she should do too, to keep her mind off of the book and do what she likes to do: people watch. Or actually, maybe she needs to go to the restroom after chugging that tea.

Elise excused herself and walked to the back of the train cart to the restroom. The restroom was preoccupied and she ended up waiting for an excruciatingly long time. Finally, the door opened and the tired old man from earlier walked out. A waft of a light bitter smell of…tobacco(?) aired out of the bathroom. The older man noticed Elise lightly bouncing to keep herself from creating an accident and he chuckled, “Sorry I took a bit, young miss. Something did not sit right with me.”

The old man gave a slight nod and head back to his seat on the train. Once Elise relieved herself, she headed back to her seat and continued to read the book Nigel lent her. Elise didn’t really pay attention to Silas notifying her of his decision since she was too engrossed in the stupidity of this manners book, but the screech caught her attention.

Detective Silas Morgan and his partner, Nigel, both excused themselves from the table to investigate what the commotion was. By the time Elise shuffled to gather her belongings, the two men were already passing through the next train car. Elise lugged her baggage as she ran to catch up to the men. Once she finally caught up with them, a strong metallic smell filled the air, and she scrunched her nose. The smell seemed familiar to her which concerned her. Elise shook her head to shake off the thought and tried to see where the smell was coming from. She stood on her tiptoes but quickly lost her balance once the train came to a halting stop. Between the men’s legs, her heart stopped when she saw where the smell was coming from.

Pools of blood soaked into the carpet while a lifeless pumpkin-shaped body laid on top of it. She was shocked to see the body belonged to none other than the dog shit man. For some reason, Elise didn’t feel any pity but rather she felt he got what he deserved. The thought shocked her. Why did she think like that? Elise began fiddling with her fingers again. Was she a bad person before she lost her memories? She shook off that thought and told herself this is no time for a self-reflection as there is a murder scene in front of her.

Elise stood up while clinging to her money bag for comfort. She heard Silas telling Nigel to gather all the passengers and employees into a car. Then the detective turned towards her and gave her an excited smirk and told her his offer. If she can correctly figure who the culprit is, then he’ll take her case. That’s all she needed to hear. If she can get her mind from these concerning thoughts and also pass the great detective’s test, then she’ll do it.

“What do you say, Miss Grey?”

Elise looked up into the detective’s eyes and noticed an exciting spark dance. He seemed to be enjoying himself to see how this whole situation would turn out and she’s determined to have it end in her favor. Looking at his outstretched hand reminded her how cocky she sounded when she offered her deal earlier. Elise grabbed Silas’ hand and reflected his smirk, “Deal, let this game begin.”

Before Elise started to investigate for clues, she asked Silas for information about the victim. As he explained, Elise scanned the scene for clues. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she had good deductive skills. It was dumb of her to accept Silas’ deal without thinking. Was it because she was desperate, or she wanted to rub that smug smile off his face that teased her that she couldn’t solve this case? Or maybe she wanted to distract herself from self-reflecting. Either way, she felt motivated to solve this case to prove that her case is worth solving for.

She saw several items that seemed like they didn’t belong. There was a bottle of wine spilled, a handkerchief with a cornflower embroidered on it splattered with blood, a footprint, and a couple of cigars lying crumpled on the ground. Elise moved onto the grotesque body. Albert Cunningham (or dog shit man) must have died a slow and painful death since it appeared he was stabbed six times and looked like he died due to blood loss. He still deserved that for all he has done, she thought. Elise widened her eyes in surprise and shook that thought away. She wondered if that is what normal people would think about. Distracting herself once more to scan any more clues on the body, she spotted a strange mark on the body’s right wrist. The culprit cut a small circle with four dashes pointing north, west, east, and south.

She reported her findings to the detective, but she couldn’t figure out who it could be. She wanted to compare her findings with his to see if she missed anything. Or maybe that was not part of the competition. Well, the worst thing he could do is not be willing to compare his findings with Elise.

Elise wanted to interview a couple of suspects next, especially the husband-and-wife duo that found the body along with the attendant. She stated that she believed the employees may have not done it as she noticed they were in different parts of the train, except for the waitress. Elise was unsure of the waitress’s alibi, but at the same time, she was also the one that reported the murder. Silas and Elise called the couple to an empty train cart next to the other passengers. The couple walked in nervously. They seemed plain and judging from their clothing, they seemed middle class. The wife clutched her stomach and Elise wondered if she was having a bellyache.

Once the four passengers sat in a random booth, Elise began questioning. At first, she wanted to peer into the couple’s eyes and demand what their alibi was. Then she realized that was probably her temper trying to get the best of her again. Elise took a deep breath to calm herself and decided to build rapport with the couple to have them be comfortable telling her their alibi. She wasn’t sure how crime scene investigations go, but she believed this would be the best way. Elise waved, “Hello, I’m sure you both did not expect to be a part of a murder scene while going on a trip somewhere, huh?” she pointed at herself and Silas, “Neither did we! Where were you two planning on going?”

The couple seemed to be less nervous since their breathing seemed to be more regulated. The husband chuckled, “We were actually off to see my parents and let them know the good news: we are expecting!”

Elise gasped and clapped her hands, “Are you? Congratulations!”

The wife blushed, “Thank you! We have been trying for years! What is your name, miss?”

“Elise Grey, how about yourselves?”

The husband replied, “Theo and Francesca Reynolds.”

Elise began fiddling with her fingers. For some reason, she didn’t believe they were pregnant. Francesca seemed to be emphasizing her pregnancy by always placing her hands on her stomach. Or Elise was probably overthinking it. Another thing that she has noticed is that the couple has an extremely light German accent that only some people with a keen ear can detect. Elise also remembered there was a handkerchief with Germany’s national flower: cornflower. Elise shook her head. Maybe she was overthinking, and that connection might just be pure coincidence. Unless…

“Have you both been out of the country before?”

Theo responded immediately, “No, we were born and raised in Britain all our lives.”

Interesting.

Elise relaxed in her seat and wondered if she was proving herself well to Silas. She shouldn’t be distracting herself! The young woman continued to fiddle with her fingers, “Now, here is the uncomfortable question: what were you two doing in the last twenty minutes before the body was found?”

The couple explained that Francesca was feeling nauseous due to morning sickness. Theo wanted to be there for his wife while she vomited for a bit and they both tried to clean the restroom because Francesca made quite a mess thanks to the baby. Elise paused to let Silas answer the questions he had for the couple and after several minutes, they were let go. Before they asked for the next suspect to come in, Elise turned to Silas and gave her opinions.

“I don’t believe them. Francesca kept emphasizing that she was pregnant more often than a pregnant woman should. Also, did you notice their slight German accent? There was a handkerchief with a cornflower at the crime scene. I’m sure that’s the national flower of Germany.” Elise noticed Silas’ bewilderment at how much information she knew. She put her hand on her hip and tapped her head, “The only thing I do not have the memory of is my identity, memories of educational information are still intact.”

Hopefully, Elise can solve this case.

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan
​

Silas was pleasantly surprised that Elise was so eager to accept his offer. It was cruel, he knew, to put so much pressure on someone who had recently lost all of their memories. Not to mention, he wasn’t exactly challenging her to a spelling contest. It was a murder, and from the looks of the scene before him, a pretty brutal one. What else could he say? He was bored, and the idea of challenging the poor girl to solve a mystery sparked a sense of interest he hadn’t felt in awhile.

Elise asked Silas about the victim. His face contorted into mild disgust when he thought about the man. Albert Cunningham. A prestigious name with a less than prestigious person tottering along behind it. Silas had known all of Albert’s slimy back alley schemes, from the corrupted deals he made with officials, to the dirty money he made in the brothel scene. Silas hadn’t really gone out of his way to gather all of this black mail on the lawyer, not like Albert made it necessarily difficult to gather it, rather, he had simply become annoyed by the proud man and wanted something to shut him up if the time ever came. He didn’t hold back in telling Elise all the information he had come across over time, but he did glean over the less than proper material in a more general manner.

As he talked, Silas’ eyes scanned the room to take in the initial scene. Albert lay on the floor in a deep puddle of his blood. Some areas of blood that had spread out from his body became absorbed by the carpet, effectively halting the spread, while other areas sunk deeper, the dark crimson pooling above the surface of the fibers. Silas judged that from the pattern of the blood, he must have been attacked while sitting in the chair that was currently pulled out from the desk. The culprit must have left him to sit there, bleeding out onto the carpet where it was pooled most deeply. His lifeless body then would have slipped from the chair and landed to the current position it had rested in, hence the more shallow areas of blood that had become spread and absorbed further out.

There was a bottle of wine on the other end of the room, the one for which he had held the ticket when walking through their car earlier. The bottle had been tipped over onto its side, its deep red contents spilling out onto the floor in a puddle. Most likely from the initial confrontation and possible first woud. A deepened impression caught his eye. It was a footprint. Silas inspected the print closer, taking note of the size, shape and depth of the print. He then moved to the pile of ashes Elise pointed out, touching his finger to the disintegrated piles to glean the texture and scent of the tobacco once burned.

He glanced over at Elise as she inspected a handkerchief covered in blood. Silas let out a tsk sound by sucking his teeth. Was the culprit really that unorganized as to leave this much evidence laying around? And here he thought this case would be interesting. At this rate, the girl may actually be able to solve it herself.

He then decided to move on to the body itself, his eyes resting on the torn and bloodied fabric that sagged down from the multiple knife wounds littered across Albert’s torso. He leaned in to inspect the wounds a bit closer, becoming overwhelmed by the smell of coppery blood that emanated in waves from the body. The wounds looked to be varying in size and depth, as if the murderer had been in different states of mind and resolve when committing the act. Maybe it was one of those confession murders, where the culprit had a conversation with Albert about how they felt they had been wronged. Judging by the lawyer’s reactions or words, they could have influenced the infliction of wounds.

His attention reached a pinnacle, however, when Elise turned over the wrist of the victim, revealing an odd symbol that had been carved into the skin. Silas’ brow furrowed deeply as his eyes poured over the mark. A circle, with four lines pointing outwards. He’d never seen anything like that in his cases before. He certainly didn’t like the foreboding feeling it stirred in his chest, either.

“Alright,” Silas said darkly while he stood. “I’ve seen enough for now. Let’s start some of these interviews.”

Silas’ gaze scanned over the group of people that Nigel had corralled into one car while he was stepping through the door. He felt the eyes of the car all lift to him simultaneously as he emerged within, not that attention was something he was unused to. Nigel had seemingly separated them all into individual booths save the couple he had seen use the bathroom earlier. The young maiden and school boy he had seen earlier were also seated on opposite ends of the car. His eyes landed on the final two passengers whom he had seen in the station, but not within the train itself until now. They were two men, one seemed to be in his middle thirties while the other had to be sixty or older. Silas wasn’t quite surprised by the diversity of suspects. A range of ages, occupations and gender was pretty typical of public transportation systems. He hummed in thought to himself, before he followed Elise through the car to get to the secluded interview section Nigel had set up for them.

Already bored of the case, Silas allowed Elise to choose the first suspects to be interviewed, which happened to be the couple. He sat in the booth beside his temporary assistant, letting her take the reins in the investigation. She had pointed out some interesting albeit obvious evidence from the crime scene itself; he was more interested now in seeing how she connected those dots to the suspects' stories and personalities.

Elise began the questioning in a friendly manner, trying to establish a level of rapport with them before diving into the more incriminating sections of the interrogation. It was a good tactic, the two suspects before them visibly relaxed. His expression twitched subtly at their mention of pregnancy. It was inline with the nausea he had seen painted across the woman’s face earlier as her and her husband headed towards the bathrooms. Not to mention, it was also a convenient alibi.

Silas leaned back into his seat once the couple announced they lived in Britain all their lives. He didn’t need to be a detective to figure out that that was a lie. There was a lilt to their voice that no native Brit possessed. He nodded deeply. “That’s a lovely hairstyle Mrs.Reynolds, do you get it done by someone else?”

The woman smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, I do it myself every morning. It’s simple and stays in place all day.”

Silas nodded, his eyes crinkling softly with a smile. “I see. Well, I have no further questions for the both of you, Miss Grey has done a lovely job in her questioning and your alibi tracks out for me as well. I saw you headed towards the bathrooms. Glad to see you are feeling a bit better.”

Once the couple were excused from the cart, Elise turned around to face Silas. A wild look painted her face while she seemed to be sorting through her thoughts. His eyebrows shot up in intrigue while Elise stated boldly that she did not believe the couple who had sat before them. “Ah, I see,” Silas said, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table that separated them from the other side of the booths. “While I agree they were not natively from Britain, I would dissuade you from damning a suspect too quickly. It will blind you from looking at other clues that point in a different direction,” He responded, his eyes studying the woman’s face. She was an interesting one for sure, her attention to fine details were certainly higher than what he was used to seeing in others. He called for the next suspect, the young maiden he had seen walking through their car earlier.

The young woman sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looked between the both of them with an unreadable expression.

“What is your name, Miss?” Silas asked, laying his hands palm first onto the table. He drummed his fingers lightly.

“Clara Taylor,” She said in a polite, soft spoken tone.

“Pretty name,” Silas mused to himself. His eyes landed on her pale neck and stuck there for several seconds, to which the young woman shifted uncomfortably in response.

“I’ll plunge right into the meat of it,” He stated, “What have you been doing in the two hours between when the victim was last seen alive and when the body has been found?” He asked.

“Well--” The young woman’s cheeks flushed pink and she immediately turned her eyes down at the table. “I--well. I was catching up with an old friend,” Clara finally managed to spit out. “The young man in the academy uniform. We sort of--grew up together. We were in the food cart the whole time, except for a brief period when he went to find the waitress.”

“Childhood sweethearts? How cute,” Silas mused, noting the embarrassed flush that consumed her. “Those must be his initials engraved on your necklace then, huh?” He smiled.

Clara’s eyes flashed into a look of brief shock, her hand reaching down to touch the thin silver necklace that rested there. The initials were thinly engraved and the pendant small, only a fine eye and the right lighting would allow the letters to appear. “Yes, of course. My parents don’t approve of the match, so he gifted me something subtle to remind me of his dedication. It’s the reason why he’s in academy now, to increase his social standing so that we can be together.”

“That’s very romantic indeed,” Silas smiled. “Well, moving on. You and your academy boy had both gotten up at one point and left the food cart. You say it was to locate the waitress?”

Clara nodded. “Yes, Harry had asked the waitress for a refill on our teas, but she had just run out of milk. She had to run to the storage supply to get more, but had taken quite awhile. He got curious and went to see what was holding her up, but along the way he also got held up.”

“So you got up and followed him,” Silas finished for her.

The girl nodded. “Yes, apparently one of the other passengers had spilled their glass of wine all over the car, and he had been helping her clean it up.” She sighed. “When I went to go check it out, I hadn’t seen where I was going and bumped right into a table full of dirty rags.” She gestured towards her dress. “They ruined my dress, my mother will be furious when she sees the stain I created,” Clara lamented.

Silas nodded. He'd have Nigel confirm that with the waitress and other passengers. “So that places your staggered returns in a rightful place as well. You returned back after 20 minutes, having found the source of the delay, while Harry returned after 40 due to his contribution to cleaning up the spill.”

Clara nodded. “Yes, that is correct.”

“Thank you for your honest responses, Miss Taylor," Silas said before he turned to Elise, "Do you have any questions for Miss. Taylor before I excuse her?”

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

It was strange that Elise was treating this murder as if it was a game. She assumed that if a regular person witnessed this, they would either faint or develop nausea. Not Elise. Yes, her heart stopped because it was the first time she has ever witnessed a dead body (to her knowledge) but the smell of blood and the gruesome sight seemed a little too… familiar? She couldn’t find the exact word for the feeling but either way, this was concerning. She noticed how Silas was a little nauseated at the sight and smell of blood when he leaned in to investigate the body closely. That’s the reaction she should’ve had when she investigated the body, not the desperation that she needed to win. It was all so very strange.

The detective was right about jumping to conclusions, Elise needed to calm down and investigate the other passengers’ alibis. Was she too confident? It didn’t hurt to talk out loud about her thoughts.. right? Also, it seemed that she was treating the suspects and the victim’s death too lightly. She didn’t think about how her decision could greatly impact other people’s lives if she chose the wrong culprit.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Elise realized she was overthinking and began fiddling with her fingers. Maybe she’s the type of person that needs to play with something in her hands to soothe herself. Bingo! Another discovery! Elise shook her head. She needed to focus on this case. She quickly glanced at Silas and realized he didn’t tell her his thoughts on this case. Of course! This is a competition! Why would he? She thought. She assumed he’d be a bit easier on her since she lost her memories, but he may not want to take on her case. Or maybe it’s a test? She needs to focus!

Elise lightly smacked her head to get herself to focus. This was no time to self-reflect. These thoughts were making her panic and she needs to be focusing on this case. She can self-reflect later. Elise peered into Silas’s eyes and wondered what he could be thinking. His expression revealed no insight into how he was feeling or his thoughts. This man was honestly unreadable.

Goodness, she needs to stop getting lost in her thoughts and focus on this case!

The next suspect came upon Silas’s request and Elise was surprised to see it was a younger woman. She has never seen this young maiden before, maybe she should have been paying attention instead of being lost in her own thoughts. The maiden had a quiet entrance and she also had an unreadable expression. Elise wondered how people can master the art of a poker face.

Silas began questioning, however, he was more direct and to the point. Was that how questioning usually goes in crime investigations? That idiotic manners book from earlier may have influenced her way of interviewing suspects. It seems if the interrogator can make the suspect flustered, it will be a lot harder to lie about the alibi. Elise watched Clara Taylor become flustered by the great detective’s questions. As Clara stumbled on her answers, she seemed to avoid making eye contact with Silas. Elise wondered if the maiden was feeling nervous because Silas put her on the spot or if she was struggling to lie about her alibi. Another thing Elise didn’t pick up right away was when Silas pointed out the faint engravings of the maiden’s necklace belonging to her lover. Elise was amazed at how observant this detective was. They didn’t call him a genius for anything she supposed. Then she began analyzing Clara’s appearance and noticed the stains that came from bumping into some dirty rags. It seems that this young maiden’s story seems to be a good alibi since there were various colored stains on her lovely dress. It also seemed a little too convenient that the maiden noted that her lover went to help with a spilled wine accident when one of the clues at the crime scene was a spilled bottle of wine. Or, Elise was jumping to conclusions. However, there was one thing that Elise thought was a little strange during the conversation.

Elise sat up straight in her seat and gave a little wave to alleviate the uncomfortable interrogation. Maybe Nigel’s manners book was helpful in some situations. It makes her feel awkward if she was as direct as Silas. She smiled gently, “Hello, I know we didn’t introduce ourselves but I’ll do a late introduction. My name is Elise Grey.”

Clara timidly shook Elise’s outstretched hand, “Lovely to meet you, Miss Grey.”

“Lovely to meet you too, Miss Taylor.” Elise beamed. She wondered if her question is something she probably shouldn’t ask during an investigation, but it made her curious. She continued, “I’m sure this is a strange question but I will ask anyway: Why were you and Harry sitting on opposite ends of the train cart? Wouldn’t you both want to sit together in support if you two are lovers?”

The suspect’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Did Elise catch a lie or did she ask a question she shouldn’t have asked? Oh well, she already said it, what does she have to lose? Probably the opportunity to find her identity, but that’s why her backup plan was to invest all of her money. Clara fumbled her words, “W-Well, we didn’t want other people to know we were together and cause an uproar with my family. You never know who knows who around these parts.”

“That makes sense,” Elise relaxed in her seat, “That’s all the questions I have for you. Detective Silas, I’m ready to speak to another passenger.”

Clara Taylor excused herself from the table and before the detective called for the next suspect, Elise turned towards him exclaiming, “She seems a bit suspicious as well, but it seems her alibi checks out. I’m still confused as to why they are hiding their relationship when they have been interacting with each other so openly before the murder?” She paused and waved her hands, “Oh don’t worry, I’m just thinking out loud.”

It seems that the two temporary partners have been taking turns picking which suspects to interview next. This time, it was Elise’s turn. She decided to pick the tired old man from earlier. The older man sat down, crossed his arms, and relaxed in his seat. He appeared that he didn’t want to be here according to his body language. Once he looked to see it was Elise, his facial expression softened, “It appears we meet again, young miss. How are you feeling?”

Elise blushed, a bit embarrassed about how the older man witnessed her bouncing for the restroom earlier. “Doing much better now, thank you! I don’t think I caught your name. Mine is Elise Grey.”

“Tobias Franklin, nice to officially meet you, Miss Grey.” the older man smiled. He seemed comfortable. Should Elise hit him with a direct question as Silas had done earlier?

“I’ll go straight into questioning. What were you doing during the two hours between when the victim was last seen alive and when his body has been found?” Elise began fiddling with her fingers. She wasn’t sure if she liked being that direct, but it might be something she has to get used to doing.

Tobias blinked in surprise, “Well, Miss Grey, weren’t you there for most of it?”

She stopped fiddling with her fingers. What kind of question was that? Was he trying to have her answer his alibi? Yes, she was there when he was in the restroom for an awfully long time. Maybe he wanted her to confirm she was a witness to what he was doing to keep the suspicion off of him. Elise replied, “I was there for some of it, but I would like to hear your testimony with your own words.”

The old man sighed, “Alright. I was eating lunch when something in that meal did not feel right. I immediately when to the restroom and stayed there until my stomach has settled. When I came out, I met Miss Grey waiting helplessly outside of the restroom. I felt guilty that I took a while and I apologized for the delay. After that, I went back to my seat and didn’t finish my lunch.”

Elise frowned, “I’m sorry that your lunch didn’t sit well for you. Must be a shame to waste your lunch like that.” She paused, “This may be an off-topic question, but I will ask it anyway. Are you an active smoker?”

Tobias stiffened, “I’m no longer an active smoker.”

“No longer active, huh? So that means you smoke sometimes, right?” Elise grinned.

The old man slightly opened his mouth in shock and appeared to be regretting how he answered the question. Tobias nodded, “That is correct.”

“When are the times do you smoke then?” Elise asked.

“Whenever I am feeling anxious,” Tobias answered, “Smoking cigars calm me.”

First, Elise wondered why this old man was such an open book. He could have lied, or maybe he wasn’t a great liar. Second, she wondered if this older man is related to the piles of ash at the crime scene. He may have smoked in the restroom right before she entered. This suspect has plenty of evidence stacked against him, this could be the culprit. Elise replied, “I understand that. I found out that playing with something in my hands calm me whenever I feel anxious.” She paused, “I think your story checks out as I was there for some of it. I think that’s all the questions I have for you, Mr. Franklin. Do you have any, Detective?”

After Tobias Franklin left to have another suspect be interviewed, Elise turned to the detective excitedly, “Right after Mr. Franklin opened the door to the restroom, the smell of tobacco wafted out the door ever so lightly! I remember seeing the bathroom window open. It made me wonder if he smoked or not.”

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan​

Silas noted a few things about Elise during their time spent interviewing together. Firstly, it was that she was a fidgeter. He noticed the tell tale signs as she moved her hands around thoughtlessly as she talked to the suspects, the digits searching blindly for anything to grab hold of. He would have considered it a disastrous distraction to his process had he not grown used to Georgianna’s nervous fidgeting throughout his childhood. Secondly, she displayed her thought process very openly across her face. Things that she didn’t agree with were not masked by any sense of indifference, distractions or disrupted trains of thought were evident in her mannerisms, excitement from catching onto a trail of lies zipped through her like lightning, he could go on. An open book personality wasn’t too bad to have alongside him in cases, so long as he convinced Elise of the exact opposite of what he was really thinking. Letting suspects think they had her fooled could maybe be a good thing, after all.

He shrugged to Elise’s questions once Clara had left the room. “Who knows? It could’ve been Nigel directing them to different seats since they weren’t as clearly labeled a couple as the husband and wife. I wouldn’t dote too much on it,” He yawned, pulling up his watch to check the time. It had been an hour since they'd found the body and trudged through the interviews. Three suspects down, three more left to interview. The conductor had contacted the police as soon as they had found the body, no doubt informing them that Silas was aboard the train and had begun an investigation. Knowing good old Benjamin, he’d high tail it to their location with no hesitation, hoping to catch Silas with his pants down in some capacity. He hated the police chief sniffing around in his business while he was working, so he’d better wrap this up quickly.

Silas wasn’t giving signs to Elise, but he had already worked through a good deal of scenarios in his head. With the last three suspects to wrap up the interviews, he’d have a much more narrow view in mind of what possibly could have happened during the window of two hours that framed Albert’s death.

His yellow eyes flicked back and forth between the old man and Elise. It seemed they had been acquainted before. Their introduction must have taken place sometime on the train, he assumed, as there was still the tense string of formality floating between them.

Silas blinked rather owlishly at Mr.Franklin’s question towards Elise. What an odd thing to say in an interview, how could she have possibly been there for most of his alibi? SIlas had only noticed the woman missing for only a handful of minutes while she went to the bathroom. He suppressed the smirk that itched to spread across his face when Elise responded elusively, forcing the old man into his own explanation of an alibi.

He nodded to himself as Mr.Franklin explained his whereabouts. He really only covered a handful of minutes, while others had documented the entirety of their time in the two hours. His alibi rested solely on the others he was around in the train, if his car had contained any other passengers at all. After all, it was a startling empty trip.

Silas shook his head with a faint scowl on his face when Elise asked him if he had any questions for the old man, Tobias Franklin. He eyed the man as he began shifting to leave per the Detective’s dismissal. Silas stood halfway, reaching his hand out to shake the old man’s hand firmly. “Thank you for your time,” He said formally, allowing the man to walk out of the room afterwards.

“That’s a lucky coincidence,” Silas nodded in response to Elise’s mumbling about her thoughts. “You’ll be grateful anytime you come across those in a case,” He shifted, crossing one leg over the other and throwing his hands to rest behind his head in the booth. “Not to dampen your enthusiasm, but it’s not odd for any man to smoke. Nigel and I both smoke occasionally, and I’m sure the other men aboard do too, not just Mr. Franklin. If you’re trying to draw a line between the old man and the ashes we found at the crime scene, I’d advise you to widen your view. We’ll keep that in mind, though, since his alibi seems the most reliant on chance and the benefit of the doubt.”

The door to their car slid open and a young man peeked his head around the corner tentatively. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m here for the interview?”
“Yes, this is the place,” Silas flashed a smile. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

The academy boy walked in and sat down stiffly before the two of them. The nerves lining his body were evident, as were his failing efforts to mask them. “Ah, don’t worry dear Harry, we don’t bite,” Silas gleamed a smile in his direction, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly swarmed around their small table.

“Harry?” The boy’s head tilted to the side.

Silas’ eyes flickered curiously. “I apologize, that’s what Miss. Taylor called you when she spoke of her whereabouts earlier.”

The boy’s gaze suddenly lit up in recognition at the mention of the young maiden that had been in before. “Oh--right, I didn’t expect she would have called me that,” He laughed awkwardly, scratching his head. “It’s a nickname we came up with to trick her parents if they were ever eavesdropping on us.”

He cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter than before. “My real name is Edward Atkinson.”

Silas nodded. Strange, but not an unfathomable excuse. “So, Mr. Atkinson, Miss Taylor told us you two spent most of your time in the food cart together, which I’ll get the waitress to confirm for us later, but that you got up for a brief period in search of milk? Did I get that right?”

Edward nodded, his fists balled in his lap tightly. “Yes-well, mostly. I didn’t get up in search of milk, I got up in search of the waitress. I must have startled one of the other passengers though, when I called out to the waitress he spilled his glass of wine all over the floor. I felt so bad I helped her clean it up, I had no idea Clara would worry and follow after.” He hung his head down, his expression burning in shame. “I feel so awful, she ruined her dress because of me,” He bit his lip in frustration.

Silas tilted his head to the side. “Don’t worry, I believe you. I only saw you pass through our cart twice, and if it’s to do what you claimed, you’ll be free to go. Once we interview all the other passengers and cross check alibis, things should become more clear,” He smiled at the boy, who gave him a relieved smile back.

Silas prodded Elise with his elbow, gesturing with his chin for her to speak up if she had any questions for the boy before they brought in the next, and thankfully last, suspect.

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

Maybe Elise needs to invest in having some type of toy or object that she could tinker around with because her fingers were definitely taking a beating from fiddling. Although, it seems that her fingers were already used to her messing with them because her fingers showed signs of light picking. Maybe she should switch to playing with the hem of her dress.

Elise began fiddling with the brown lace on her dress. She thought how it was becoming quite irritating whenever Silas would shoot down Elise’s theories. Elise wanted to snap back at him whenever he would nonchalantly comment on her thoughts. However, if she did argue, the detective may not want to take her case. Actually, he definitely wouldn’t. Elise sighed. Maybe she should continue to practice the art of keeping her mouth shut and try to keep her temper at bay. She did well to control her anger when interrogating that Tobias Franklin man. He really irritated her when he tried to pin his alibi on her.

Once Silas informed her how common it was for men to smoke, she became disheartened. She didn’t realize how common it was for men to smoke. Maybe that mannerisms book should have informed her that men smoking was a regular occurrence in daily London living. It seemed that there were certain pieces of common knowledge that she didn’t know, and smoking was one of them.

Now, Elise really wanted to know what Silas’ thoughts were about this whole investigation. She wondered how he can narrow the culprit down to one person when each suspect has a suspicious alibi. Elise was having trouble singling it down to one person. There was the couple who lied that they were native Londoners. Then there was the young maiden who claimed she had a secret romance when it was not secretive. Then just now, the old man who only told a couple of minutes of his alibi and hoped the other passengers would cover the rest. Even this Edward “Harry” Atkinson had a strange story.

The boy nervously sat down in front of her with wide eyes and Elise gave soft smile to help the boy feel comfortable. It was refreshing to meet a person that didn’t know how to have a poker face. As Silas began to question Edward, she noticed that he is not that much younger than her. Actually, he could be ten years younger than her. Elise could be forty-six years old with the skin of a goddess for all she knew. Until she regains her memories back, she settled to being twenty-one years old. That was the age she had to be in order to rent a hotel room last night. Elise realized she became lost in her thoughts yet again. Then, she began to fiddle with the hem of her dress once more to focus on the conversation.

One thing that Elise noted during this interview was that Edward didn’t seem to react to his nickname. That was strange, but Elise supposed the couple rarely used that name. She also wondered why Edward went to go find the waitress if it wasn’t to ask if she got their milk. But both Clara’s and Edward’s stories aligned together and thus are both able to vouch for one another. It seemed to be convenient indeed. Now that Elise thought about it, maybe his story wasn’t as strange after all.

Silas’ nudge shook Elise out of her thoughts. Flustered, she whipped her head to see the detective gesturing her if she had any other questions for the boy. Elise did have one question, but she wasn’t sure if she could ask it. She might as well, there are no dumb questions… right?

Elise scrunched the lace in her fingers and asked, “It might be a silly question, but why did you search for the waitress if it wasn’t to search for milk?”

Edward’s relieved smile disappeared, and he began tapping the table, “W-Well, it was to see what was taking her so long to search for coffee.”

“Ah, well, thank you for answering our questions, Mr. Atkinson. Hopefully, we will be able to let you all go home after the investigation is over.” Elise grinned and stood up to shake the boy’s sweaty hand.

Once the boy left, Elise turned to the detective once more but tried to seem like she wasn’t as excited as she has been when she noticed something. She didn’t want to seem too confident. Elise began fiddling with the lace again, “It was interesting to hear Miss Taylor say that Mr. Atkinson went to go find the waitress to search for milk. But Mr. Atkinson says he went to search for the waitress to see if she found coffee. All of these suspects all seem strange, is it usually like this?”

The car door slid open, and it was, fortunately, the last suspect that Silas and Elise had to interview. Finally, the end was near, and Elise still had no idea who the culprit could be. The suspect was a middle-aged man who also had an unreadable expression. He appeared to be wearing a slightly ragged button-up shirt and slacks that seemed a tad too short. She wondered if this suspect was slightly poor since it looked like he needed to update his wardrobe.

Elise gave a little wave once the man plopped in the booth while rubbing his bald spot on his head, “Hello, it seems you’re our last passenger to interview before we conclude the case.”

The man grumbled, “Well, let’s get this over with,” he glanced at Silas and bowed his head, “It is a pleasure and honor to meet the great Detective Morgan by the way. I’m a bit upset that we met in these circumstances.”

Elise quirked a brow. Did he just blatantly ignore her? Elise has done a great job at keeping her temper under control, but it appears that annoying men seem to trigger her tantrums quite easily. Or maybe Elise was just a hothead. Elise took a deep breath and smiled, “Well, let’s start with introductions first. My name is Elise Grey, what is yours?”

“Harold Jenkins.” He replied gruffly.

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Jenkins! So, what were you doing in the last two hours before the victim’s body was found?” Elise was already getting irritated with this Harold Jenkin’s attitude. His attitude seems to greatly differ when he was interacting with Silas. Or maybe Elise was just overthinking it.

Harold slumped in the booth and crossed his arms, “I am trying to study for the bar exam, so I spent the last two hours reading heavy textbooks in preparation. Although I did get up once to use the restroom. Unfortunately, I cannot recall when. If you need someone to confirm my alibi for me, you both will need to ask the older gentleman sitting in the train cart with me.”

Oh, so he is using Mr. Franklin to support his alibi… I wonder if they both know each other already? Elise thought. Still smiling, Elise replied, “Oh that’s exciting! What is the bar exam if you don’t mind me asking?”

Harold rolled his eyes, “Of course a woman wouldn’t know what a bar exam is. It’s an exam for which practitioners of the law would have to take to be able to legally practice law. Can you ask more relevant questions to the investigation?”

Elise tightened her fist around the lace on her dress. This imprudent man! So, she wasn’t overthinking! If she could, she could honestly punch the lights out of this so-called student of the law. Elise forced a laugh and shoved her elbow in Silas’ stomach to prompt him to take over this interview, “Oh, of course! My honest mistake. Detective, do you have any more questions for Harold?”

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan​

Silas let out an elongated sigh, his eyes moving towards the rolling hills of the countryside that were visible through the windows of the car. He longed to see them running in a blurry, green streak like they had been before this whole mess had started. At least then he’d have been on time for Georgianna’s party. Facing her fury coupled with the Duke’s smug expression in the background was enough for Silas to want to turn around and go home. Not to mention the inevitable run in with the police chief lurking in his near future. At least the party would have free alcohol. After this unfortunate investigation, he’d surely need it.

Any relief that came with the knowledge that the middle aged man now seated before them was their last suspect dispersed quickly once the man began responding to Elise’s questions. Silas’ face scowled into a look of discontent as he listened to the patronizing tone the man adopted. Judging by this small interaction, he and Albert must’ve been peas in a pod. What did they even teach in law school? Clearly it had nothing to do with morality and humbleness.

The words “Great Detective Morgan” echoed in his mind. He hated that media coined title. It created a polished and proper image that was impossible to live up to. Silas eyed the man as he answered Elise’s questions with a reluctant and gruff tone. Elise had stiffened beside him, more so than she had been with any of the suspects before. Silas assumed it had something to do with Harold’s dismissive tone and overall lack of respect. His alibi seemed solid and to the point, no amount of time was left unaccounted for. He hadn’t spotted the man in the time they had spent on the train, so for the time being, he was inclined to believe him. The only thing they had left to do was verify his, along with everyone else’s alibis against each other.

“No, I don’t Miss Grey,” Silas said in response to Elise, his eyes following Harold’s figure as the man stood up. His clothes were crumpled and dirty, some areas torn and frayed. “That looks like a bad rip,” Silas noted, pointing to a rather large slice on the sleeve of his shirt that opened the man's bare wrist to the air.

Harold grunted in discontent. “Yeah--I know. I snagged it on the damn train car while entering. You’d think they’d inspect the doors to ensure there’s no sharp edges. Imagine if it led to an injury, that’s a lawsuit right there.”

Silas cracked a smile. “Now that would be quite a shame.”

He turned to Elise once the man exited the train car, resting his elbow on the table and his cheek in the crook of his propped hand. He had a solid idea of what had happened, the pieces from the crime scene beginning to string together into a fluid scene in his head. Everything was falling into place perfectly. Everything--no, not everything. There was one detail that was out of place, like a splotch of black ink on stark white paper. Laughably discernable. He cast the heavy thought from his mind which itched to obsessively pick over it and turned his attention to Elise. She seemed to be mulling over the last interview. Would she be able to draw the same conclusions that he did?

“So, we’ve interviewed everyone. Have any burning suspicions?” Silas asked, his eyes turned cat-like in their mischievous intrigue.

 

[sunnieside]

Benjamin Harris/Alexei | Elise Grey​

When Benjamin Harris received the call that there was a murder on a train to Shere, Surrey, it excited him. Finally, a case that would help rebuild the London Police Department’s reputation… or so he thought. Benjamin was strangely surprised that Detective Silas Morgan was already on the train solving this case. He thought he would be irritable hearing that this arrogant detective was already on the job. On second thought, Benjamin was starting to become annoyed. Just thinking about the inevitable little jabs at his height and being around a person that thought he was a god was starting to make his blood boil. Benjamin began rubbing his temples in the police wagon. He thought about all the paperwork he must do because Silas didn’t even bother to ask for the police department’s permission to investigate this case. It was a nice break to have Silas not pick up any cases that suit his pretentious tastes these past couple of months. The amount of paperwork Benjamin didn’t have to do during that time was amazing.

Benjamin stared at the hills and skies rolling by to distract himself from how slow the police wagon was driving to the scene. He realized by the time he and his assistant would get there, Silas and Nigel would have just begun announcing their conclusions with the suspects. He tapped his foot, slowly becoming more annoyed at his foreseeable interactions with Silas. Benjamin let out a heavy sigh which caused Alexei to slap the reins harder.

“You don’t have to make those horses go faster, Alexei. We have to abide by the law like the rest of the citizens.” Benjamin grumbled as he crossed his arms.

Alexei chuckled, “Sir, you seemed to be getting impatient. Also, isn’t this a murder case? Wouldn’t it be better if we try to arrive as soon as possible?”

Benjamin sat up a bit, realizing he has been sulking. He cleared his throat, “Ah, well yes, you are right, Alexei. I assumed that Detective Morgan and his partner took over the crime scene, so I was in no rush to get there.”

Benjamin needed to focus on the case. It would be best to arrive as soon as possible despite Detective Morgan already solving the case. For instance, Silas Morgan could not legally arrest criminals, whereas Benjamin could. Soon enough, the police wagon finally arrived at the stopped train. Other police wagons were guarding the outside of the train to prevent suspects from escaping and to check for hidden clues. The police detective and his assistant gathered the necessary details about this case from the other policemen. Albert Cunningham was murdered. Silas was only interviewing six out of the eleven passengers on board. Silas also had a woman interviewing those suspects with him. Benjamin raised a brow. Did he hire another assistant? Since when did the Silas Morgan mingle with women other than his sister?

He shook his head. The police detective had a job to do, and it was not to think about trivial things like Silas Morgan’s personal life. Both the police detective and his assistant hopped on the train cart where the suspects were being held. Benjamin saw Nigel Fairfax supervising the passengers, then he felt sick to his stomach. For some reason, Benjamin also didn’t find Nigel likable either. Maybe it’s because he was associated with the private detective. Taking a deep breath, he stormed up to Nigel, and narrowed his eyes, “You and Silas are the reason why I am seeing white hairs on my scalp! I ask you this every time, but why couldn’t you two have waited for my approval to solve this case? Now you both are solving this case illegally, and now I have to write up more paperwork. Don’t worry, I won’t forget to write all of those tickets for every law you two have broken just now.” Benjamin impatiently tapped his foot and grumbled, “Well, no matter. What’s done is done. Why don’t you let my assistant and I supervise these passengers, and you go help your dear friend?”
---
The rumors were true. Silas does remind Elise of a cat sometimes… especially in the eyes. What could she say to impress this picky detective? She did have several burning suspicions, but they are not narrowed down to one person. Every passenger aside from her, Nigel, and Silas were all suspicious. All their alibis were a tad strange. But according to Silas observing the train, they were confirmed to be true (for the most part). What didn’t make sense were the little details in some of the suspects’ alibis. For example, the reasons why Clara and Edward went to search for the waitress were different. Or how the married couple lied about being native Londoners. Or how Tobias and that irritable man tried to use the other passengers to confirm their alibis. It was like they were all working together.

“Honestly, this case has a lot of interesting alibis, and everyone is extremely suspicious.” Elise began, “It’s hard to narrow it down to one culprit, and it’s tough to make a decision because what if I condemn the wrong person?”

Elise realized she wasn’t afraid to condemn the person because she feared she would damn them to a horrible fate. Rather, she was afraid she wouldn’t pass the detective’s test. She honestly couldn’t care less about what happened to these people after this case. She just desperately wanted hers solved. Was that cruel selfishness or was this something normal people think about?

She continued, “I noticed that all of the suspects’ alibis are slightly inconsistent, but they also sounded like they were all working together. I am not sure how, but they all sounded like they are connected to one another. I assume Albert Cunningham had many enemies based on what you have told me earlier. Maybe these suspects are somehow connected to each other through the victim? Then again, there had to be one murderer. Maybe they are protecting someone, maybe-”

Her eyes widened. She figured out who the culprit was. Elise quickly stood up as her bright blue eyes lit up in excitement, “I am ready to announce my findings.”

Hopefully, she got the answer right.

When she stood up, she saw Nigel standing at the doorway. She gave a quick nod to him and headed out to the next train cart. With Silas and Nigel behind her, Elise slid the train door open to see a crowd of people waiting patiently. She recognized all of the passengers there, except for two. There was a slightly shorter brunet policeman with thick eyebrows and an annoyed expression on his face. The other policeman was taller with dark hair and deep blue eyes. Just looking at the man gave Elise a strange feeling, but she could not put her finger on what that feeling was.

It felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest while gazing out at the crowd. What if she got it wrong, and then Elise would succumb to investing her money bag? But then, what if she got it right? Then she will find out who she was before her current situation and what kind of person she is. Both of those choices were frightening since they could steer Elise to two different lives. All of the sudden, the pressure of this case started to hit her even harder than it had been before. With a shaky breath, Elise clenched the hem of her dress and began, “Hello everyone, the end of the case is almost near!”

She blushed. What kind of introduction was that? She thought and then shook her head. Elise continued, “A-Anyways, after much discussion and listening to all of your interviews, I have concluded on the culprit. The culprit is…”

Elise fiddled with the hem of her dress, “All of you.”

She watched all the passengers’ faces turn pale white and some others looking like they had stopped breathing. Elise awkwardly chuckled, “Ah, well, just kidding. Sort of.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have made a joke? She reverted to fiddling with her fingers once more, “I apologize for that joke, probably unnecessary during a crime scene investigation. Well, I don’t think all of you murdered the victim, rather most of you are covering up the real murderer’s crime. All your stories were consistent. Yet, some of you had some strange facts in your alibis. For example,” Elise pointed at the married couple, “You two noted that you both were born and never left London. Yet, you both have a slight native German accent.” Then she pointed at both Clara and Harry, “Miss Taylor and Mister Atkinson shared different reasons why they both searched for the waitress.” And then she pointed at Tobias and Harold. “You two both relied on each other to cover for the other’s alibis, but you both barely talked about each other at all.”

Elise paused to catch her breath and saw the passengers looking at each other worriedly. Was she on the right track? Elise continued, “The fact you are all looking at each other somewhat confirms my assumption. I would not be surprised if all of you have some sort of grudge against the victim since he had a horrid history of ruining many people’s lives. However, I haven’t announced the true murderer. And the culprit is… Tobias Franklin.”

She watched the blood drain out of Tobias’ face when he heard the news. Did she get it right? Hopefully, she got it right. Elise explained, “Mister Franklin was the only one that did not explain his entire time before the victim was murdered. He only explained a handful of minutes and tried to pin his alibi on other people to confirm it. Everyone had some kind of strange clue at the crime scene or on their person that somehow linked them to the victim. Mister Franklin did not. There was a pile of ash at the crime scene that smelled of tobacco. Earlier I assumed the pile of ash was connected to Mister Franklin since he left the bathroom smelling like tobacco. However, I was informed that smoking is a regular occurrence among English men. Thus, I have made a different assumption that the strange mark on the victim’s wrist is connected to Mister Franklin instead. I think every passenger here, aside from me, Detective Silas, Mister Fairfax, and the employees, all tried to protect Mister Franklin from getting convicted. If he did not leave that mark on the victim's wrist and explained his alibi so briefly, then he would not have been caught. Then again, everyone's alibis were a little strange.”

Now the moment of whether she won this competition or not. Elise turned towards Silas, “What are your thoughts, Detective?”

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax
​

Nigel sneered in distaste when his eyes were brought up to the other end of the train car by a harsh opening of the door and very angry footsteps storming in his direction. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, letting out a hiss of air. As if he needed another headache today, here came good old Benjamin, the police chief with a short temper and an even shorter stature. Maybe all that anger became concentrated in his smaller frame somehow.

He blinked at the police chief’s accusation slowly. “I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty sure the reason you’re seeing grey hairs on your scalp is because of genetics,” Nigel deadpanned. He didn’t even bother responding to the chief’s claims of writing them up. Benjamin never would, he knew it was useless. Silas would just get the Hastings to fight the claims with their lawyers. It worked every time, but the frustration that it must’ve caused Benjamin never did get old. Nigel turned his attention back to the paperwork in front of him. “No thanks. I’ve got work to do here, and I’ve done a fine job the past two hours waiting for you lot to arrive. I’ll stay where I am, Silas can handle his own.” He turned his face back up towards Benjamin and his partner Alexei, offering them a polite smile. “You’re free to do as you’d like, though.”
--


Silas titled his head as he listened to Elise wander through the information handed to her by the suspects. He wasn’t surprised to see her struggle over the moral quandary of convicting the wrong person. It was the infamous question that every detective asked themselves when they began to get their feet wet. It’s how you handled that question that separated out the good from the great.

He smiled mischievously at a look of clarity that bolted through her blue eyes. Her gaze widened as she looked at him and announced that she was ready to submit her findings to the cabin before them. Whether or not she got the culprit right, Silas knew it was bound to be interesting.

He stepped out behind the woman as she made her way up to the front of the next train car over. Silas paused inside the doorway, looking over to Nigel who had stood up upon his friend’s reappearance. “What do you think?” Nigel asked him, capping a pen he had been using.

Silas shrugged. “Too easy, that’s what I think.” His eyes traveled around the now crowded train car, unfortunately recognizing a shock of brown hair in the distance. Of course his luck would give Benjamin the swiftest of horses and shortest of journeys on the way here. He was hoping the poor man would’ve run into some type of trouble and made the window of the interaction impossibly small.

Elise’s tentative voice sounding in the air snapped Silas’ attention back to the situation at hand. He looked up at the woman who stood unsure of herself in front of the seated crowd in the car. Silas glanced down to his side, gesturing for Nigel to return to his makeshift desk at one of the booths, and slid in beside him. His expression remained unreadable while the woman talked, even though the energy in the car shifted around like a rollercoaster.

“Ah,” Silas thought to himself once Elise announced her final declaration. He cast a sideways glance to Nigel, who was already riding on the coattails of his friends body language and thoughts. “So close yet not quite.”

“My thoughts?” Silas asked aloud in response to Elise’s question for him. Every eye in the car turned back to him in tandem. He sat leaned back with his legs crossed, bouncing one foot in the air. Silas gestured languidly. “I say widen your scope. You’re focusing far too much on alibis and not enough on details.”

Silas sat forward with a light grunt in effort. He put his hands on his knees to push himself upright and began walking slowly down the center of the train car to the front, where Elise was addressing everyone. “You’re thinking like a police officer,” He said, winking as he passed Benjamin and his assistant, who Silas could never be bothered to learn his name. Adam? Adrian? Something like that.

“But you’re not exactly--wrong either.” Now at the front of the room, Silas looked out among the crowd that sat with bated breath. The air felt electrically charged, like one small catalyst would send them all into a tumble of chaos.

“Tobias Franklin can be placed at the scene because of his smoking, yes, that is correct. But merely stating that fact alone isn’t enough for a conviction. You need undeniable proof that when presented before a jury, there is no reasonable doubt. Yes, his alibi is murky and questionable, yes he had a smoky scent to him. But the difference in your deductions and mine, Miss. Grey, are as follows. The pile of ash we found at the scene of the crime belongs to a specific cigar factory located in Scotland. They’re known for the peculiar way in which their double claro burns, caused by the method they use for drying out the leaves much quicker than average. It causes the ashes to burn lighter and the smoke to take on a slightly different note than other tobacco smoke. The ashes at the scene of the crime are lighter than what is possible to be produced by anything someone else might have smoked, and the smell is only present on Mr.Franklin himself. He’s also got a callus on his left thumb, one that is common for life long smokers due to the repeated gesture of sparking a lighter or dragging a match. When I shook his hand it was warmer and a bit softer than an old callus from years ago, meaning it had been recently aggravated by something like--oh, let’s say, the metal flint wheel of a lighter?” Silas smiled towards Tobias. “Put simply, if you’re going to commit a murder, please do smoke something more inconspicuous next time.”

“So again, you're close, but not quite on the mark,” Silas said, addressing Elise next. “Your head’s in the right place, but you fail to look at the details of the investigation. You rely too much on the suspects themselves. You might as well have skipped over the evidence at the crime scene entirely with your deductions. Ignoring all the other evidence for now, Albert’s body was stabbed six times. Each of those wounds varied in size and depth. So, with that in mind, you can come to some kind of conclusion along the lines that each suspect interviewed contributed to his murder, each having stabbed him once in the chest. If you create that kind of mental framework, you’d then go into the interviews and look for signs that would confirm this hunch, which of course, would prove fruitful given that this is precisely what happened here and all of our suspects are, in fact, guilty.”

The room fell under tense silence, the suspects sitting before them unable to talk, let alone move. “Right--” Silas cleared his throat. “So with that, I’ll go in the order that we’ve interviewed. Besides, Mr. Franklin, of course,” He gestured towards Benjamin and his partner. “Benjamin, you can go ahead and arrest him now, by the way. By the time we’re finished here Nigel will have everything written down that you’ll need.” He turned his attention back to the crowd before them. “So, first up, Theodore and Francesca Reynolds,” Silas shot them a condescendingly sweet smile. “You two claim that you’ve lived in London your whole lives, but your accents speak differently. Even my newly minted assistant here could pick up on it, and she has amnesia. You would’ve been less suspicious if you had been honest with us, but I suspect your hasty need to cover your hometown arose from the fact that you left behind your handkerchief at the scene of the crime, the one embroidered with the German flower,” He gestured over to one of the police officers who had retrieved the handkerchief, holding the bloodied fabric up with a gloved hand. Silas smiled. Perfectly dramatic and entirely unnecessary.

“Even excluding your terrible London accents and fake pregnancy, which my assistant here focused in on, there were multiple other features that tie you to the scene of the crime. Mrs. Reynolds, you said you do your own hair everyday, a beautiful and intricate braiding that takes years to master to the level you’ve displayed for us all today. It’s a traditional German braiding style, one that even a native Londoner catching wind of in a trend would have trouble mastering in such a short period of time. That--and the lining of your dress is the same color as the embroidered flower in the handkerchief. I assume if you do your own hair you also do your own tailoring. At first I thought it was the hand of someone in the local London tailor shops, but the color gave it away. Anyways--” Silas turned his attention to the husband. “Mr.Reynolds. Your fault was in your accent, yes, but also in the choice of literature. The edition you are carrying there in your hand is a certain edition that was only printed in Germany. I know because my father owns one. He’s quite proud of it. Oh, and you have a bit of blood you didn’t clean out in the cuticle of your ring finger on your left hand. Maybe two handkerchiefs would be better next time.”

Silas cleared his throat and turned his attention to the young maiden next, “Clara, you say that your dress was stained by the wine laden towels caused by the spill in the train.” He held his finger up, cutting her off from interjecting a confirmation to that fact. “Which was confirmed by multiple people including the waitress, I’m aware. However, Albert had ordered a Cabernet to his private cabin. It stains much darker than the Zinfandel you used to cover up the initial spill. There’s a clear difference between the two shades stained into your dress, and if I’m being frank you didn’t do that great a job of covering the initial spill anyways,” He said. Silas noticed Nigel roll his eyes in the back, urging him to hurry up. Silas cleared his throat again. “Not to mention the difference in smells...” He trailed off a bit before snapping back to his explanation “Right--Well that ties you to the scene of the crime, and your clear lie involving your name and your connection to Harry gives away your motive. It’s a bit of a coincidence that the initials engraved in your necklace could be mistaken for Henrietta Wilson, the daughter left behind by a recently jailed Richard Wilson. He was prosecuted by Albert Cunningham for running an illegal brothel in his bed and breakfast, which Albert was secretly cutting money from behind the scenes. I suppose he used poor Richard for the fall once things got hairy, huh Miss Wilson? Well, regardless, my dear, that gives you motive and placement at the scene of the crime. Benjamin,” He gestured for the man to apprehend the young woman, whose face had gone ghost pale.

“Mr. Atkinson,” Silas tilted his head. “It’s unfortunate that I have to do this, given the status of your academy, but the wine spill does place you at the scene of the crime as well. There’s a spot of wine on the tip of your shoe, which yes, could be mistaken from the second wine spill that happened later. The academy you attend is very particular about having a recognizable image, and with that in mind, they developed a very recognizable and unique uniform for their students to wear. That includes an uncommon shoe with a footprint unlike any of the other shoes aboard this train, the only print that could possibly match the one we found sunk into the wine laden carpet. So, Mr. Atkinson, you are also caught red handed.”

“And last but not least, our aspiring law student, Mr. Jenkins. You had the most believable alibi, since you didn’t have to explain haven gotten up or being spotted elsewhere in the train car, but one undeniable detail ties you to the scene of the crime,” He gestured for one of the officers to move forward towards him, noting the panicked glance the man shot toward Benjamin. Caving under the pressure of having been put on the spot by someone of Silas’ reputation, no less, he walked up towards the detective obediently. Silas held out his hand which was covered by a handkerchief. “The murder weapon, if you will,” he asked the officer. During their interviews of the suspects, the police had arrived and quickly stormed the train to gather and document the evidence. As they weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous bunch to do an investigation, everything accounted for was heard and documented by Nigel. Silas had noted in Nigel's overview of the case where and who found the bloodied silver knife, clicking the last piece of the puzzle in place for him.

“You claim that you received that unfortunate tear in your clothing from entering in the train car earlier, however the metal used to build the train is not nearly sharp enough to slice through fabric that cleanly. If you had taken the time to fray the ends of the threads a bit more I may have believed you, but with a slice that clean, there’s only one type of metal that could achieve such a phenomenon.” He held the silver knife in the air, noting the palpable shift in demeanors after each suspect felt the weight of their guilt fall down on them at once.

Silas tilted his head to the side and gave Benjamin a patronizing smile. “Is that enough evidence for you, Benjie?”

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey | Benjamin Harris | Brief Alexei
​

“I say widen your scope. You’re focusing far too much on alibis and not enough on details.”

Elise’s heart dropped. All she could think about were those words. Those two simple sentences marked the end of her life-changing journey to find who she was and why she ended up this way. She wondered how she even made that big of a mistake. Well, this was her first murder case, and she was practically thrown in it with… how long has it been since she regained consciousness? A day and three quarters? Maybe she should stop counting the days at this point.

But how did she mess up?

Elise stepped to the side as Silas stood up to walk to where she was standing. She wasn’t sure what kind of face she was making. Maybe, it was of shock. Maybe, it was anger? Elise wasn’t sure. There were many emotions that she couldn’t differentiate from the others. All she could do was watch the detective take the stage and state his conclusions while she sorted out what she did wrong.

“But you’re not exactly--wrong either.”

Her head perked up when hearing that small phrase. The awful pit in her stomach became slightly lighter, and her breathing became more regulated. Maybe that was what the feeling was. Panic. Panic that she lost the competition. Panic that she condemned the wrong person. Panic that she suddenly lost that chance to find her identity. But… she wasn’t completely wrong? Does that mean she still has that chance?

It was incredible how Silas was able to pick up on the littlest of clues and back them up with previous knowledge. Yes, Elise was correct in her hunch that the piles of ash belonged to Tobias Franklin. However, she just merely guessed based on circumstantial evidence. She just assumed that the pile of ash belonged to Tobias Franklin because she smelt the smell of smoke seeping out of the restroom earlier. Silas was right. That wasn’t enough to conclude that the pile of ash at the crime scene belonged to Tobias. What Silas did was he took the evidence found at the crime scene a step further by taking note of all the little details on the suspect’s appearance as evidence. He managed to connect that evidence to the crime scene, thus proving his deductions to be correct. While Elise blindly looked past all of that and trusted solely on the alibis, as Silas had stated.

Fiddling with her fingers, Elise remembered viewing the stab marks on the victim’s body when Silas recalled the evidence at the crime scene. Now that she thought about it, the stab marks were of various sizes and depths. Why did she not realize they were possibly made by different people?

“Now, if you can guess the culprit correctly at the end of my investigation, I’ll take your case on.”

The culprit.

A single culprit.

That was it! She recalled the detective’s challenge from earlier, and he said there was a culprit. Meaning there was only one culprit. Somehow, Elise had his words influence her every decision. She was so focused on finding the one culprit that she failed to realize there had been multiple culprits. His words also made Elise doubt whether the piles of ashes at the crime scene were connected to Tobias Franklin. She watched Silas pin every piece of evidence on the other suspects. It made her realize how much his words created so much doubt in her deductions. She was correct that the married couple was linked to the German handkerchief, and Tobias Franklin was linked to the pile of ash. But somehow, Silas deterred her from thinking that she was correct. She wondered if he really did not want to take her case if he wanted her to fail from the start. Elise shook her head. She did not have to let his words sway her thinking. She shouldn’t blame him for her mistakes.

The energy in the train continued to become tenser as Silas continued to reveal the truths about the case. Elise noticed the passengers’ faces become paler with every statement the detective spouted. She saw the two strangers come to arrest every passenger that Silas would call out. Although, one of them seemed like he was begrudgingly doing it with the shuffling of his feet and the slight grumbling with every arrest.

That annoyed police officer was none other than Benjamin Harris. At first, he let that damn Silas Morgan boss him and his assistant around to arrest these suspects. Since, of course, Silas did solve this case and it took Benjamin and Alexei a whole two hours to arrive on the scene. It was embarrassing to let his fellow policemen and the citizens see a private investigator bark out orders. The police should be doing that. Although Benjamin has a reputation to uphold for the police department. He shouldn’t taint it with bad behavior, such as reacting negatively to the cocky detective.

The citizens need to see that the London Police Department can model humbleness.

… but then that goddamn Silas referred to Benjamin as Benjie.

The police chief’s face turned beet red as he snapped his fingers for Alexei to arrest the last suspect. Benjamin glared at the detective, “It’s Sergeant Benjamin Harris to you, Detective Morgan. You did some good work here. The police department will take over. I would like for Mr. Fairfax to quickly finish up his notes on this case so we can work on trials for this lot.”

Several other officers came to usher the suspects out of the train and into police carriages. Suddenly, Benjamin's eyes lit up and darted around the train when he remembered there was a young woman who helped with the case. His eyes stopped at a blonde woman standing behind Silas. Putting on a toothy grin, Benjamin marched to greet the young woman and pushed the useless detective out of the way. He took out his hand,

“Sergeant Benjamin Harris, police chief of London Police Department. How did you manage to become a new assistant with this arrogant thing of a mess?”

Arrogant thing? Assistant? Elise tilted her head as she noticed the sergeant gesturing at Silas. The detective did call me his “newly minted assistant” didn’t he? Elise took Benjamin’s hand and grinned, “Elise Grey, and I’m not even sure if my position is permanent or temporary, so I wouldn’t get too excited.”

“Either way,” Benjamin sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “It’s unfortunate you became associated with him. Oh yes, that reminds me. I have to introduce my assistant as well. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to get here quick enough. This is Alexei, and he is the most reliable assistant an officer could have.”

Elise held her breath. The taller man with dark hair and navy eyes approached the trio with an unreadable grin. There was that strange feeling again and Elise still couldn’t put a name for it. The feeling made her sick to her stomach and the beating of her heart quicken. She watched the man gently grab her hand to shake it. A shiver went down her spine as she stayed frozen in place. She wanted to slide her hand out of his and smack him for merely touching her, but she couldn’t. Instead, she watched this interaction unfold, and that unidentifiable feeling grew stronger the more she was in his presence. Alexei looked down at her with a flash of mischief in his eyes and smirked, “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Grey.”

Benjamin cleared his throat, “Well, now that we have introductions aside, we will continue doing our work. Alexei, I would like you to retrieve some of Nigel Fairfax’s notes and head back to the station with our suspects. I will give some orders to the rest of the men, but I will be back to speak with Detective Morgan and Miss Grey.”

The heavy pit in Elise’s stomach started to disappear with every step that Benjamin and Alexei took as they left to their own devices. Out of all the people that Elise has encountered in the maybe two days of existence, this Alexei character would have to be the one person to get such a reaction out of her so far.

Elise turned to face Silas appearing defeated. She sighed, “I didn’t guess the culprit correctly, but you strangely called me your new assistant. I am not sure if it means you want to take my case or keep me around but let me explain my thought process for how I concluded it was Tobias Franklin. Hopefully, this will persuade your decision.”

She explained how Silas was correct that she assumed it was Tobias Franklin due to her assumption of his smoking and how unclear his alibi was. How Silas’ words made her doubt her suspicions and had her point in a different direction during the investigation. Not that it was his fault that she was gullible enough to let him influence her. How, in the very beginning of the challenge, she was so focused on finding one culprit all because Silas said she had to find the culprit.

“Also,” Elise began, “I’m sure my desperation for winning the challenge led me to recklessly condemn Tobias Franklin as the one culprit. I was so desperate to win that my mind was all over the place. I frantically assumed that each suspect was connected to every piece of evidence at the scene.” Elise held up her fingers to count for each suspect, “For example, the married couple was connected to the German handkerchief and Miss Taylor to the wine spill.”

She blushed in embarrassment, “Although I was wrong on some of the clues. I assumed that Mister Atkinson was connected to the wine spill and,” Elise changed her tone of voice to disgust, “Harold was connected to the footprint.”

Elise paused and fiddled with the lace of her dress, “When you told me that smoking was a common occurrence for men, I assumed that the pile of ashes belonged to the victim. However, I wasn't sure which person the strange marking on the victim’s wrist belonged to. The marking seemed so out of the ordinary in our list of clues that I assumed it was possibly a mark that the real murderer had done it. With the combination of assuming that there was one murderer and my desperation to win this case, I panicked and condemned Tobias Franklin.”

The young woman peered into the detective’s eyes and still couldn’t read what he was thinking. Would this be the end of her life journey? Before Silas could say anything, the police officers quickly ushered everybody that was still standing in the train cart. When Elise got outside, she saw several police officers swarming the fields and getting ready to go to whatever destination their carriage was taking them to. She saw Benjamin waving his arm at her, Silas, and Nigel who followed behind her.

Benjamin cried, “I hear that Georgianna Hastings’ is hosting a garden party today! I see that you two have no way of traveling to the party thanks to this police investigation. Luckily for you two, I can certainly take all of us to the party. I have a thank-you present for our dear friend, Philip!” the police chief made eye contact with Elise and beamed, “Of course, we certainly need to invite Miss Grey. She has helped with this investigation. After all, we do need to reward her somehow.”

Her face flushed red, “Um, that’s—”

“Excellent! We will take my police carriage.” Benjamin bounced away to get the carriage prepped and ready for the ride. Elise sighed, and suddenly, she realized she left her bag of money near the train. Picking up her dress, she excused herself and dashed towards her bag. Elise hoped that no one robbed her during all of this excitement. Goodness, so many things have happened today, and it exhausted her. She witnessed her first murder and dead body today. That was enough to make one be done for the day hours ago.

As Elise grabbed her bag, she noted a slip of paper peeking out in a pocket on the side of it. Curious, she reached in for the note and investigated it. She ran her finger alongside the worn folded creases and its rough, yellowed texture. Once she unfolded the note, her eyes widened in shock at what she read.

“laus nostra desideria”

She murmured, “Praise be our desires.”

How did she read that? How was she able to understand that? What language was this? She scanned her eyes to the bottom of the paper, and her stomach dropped. There, on the bottom of the note, was a small circle with four dashes stretching outwards. It looked just like the strange marking on the victim’s wrist.

Grabbing her belongings, Elise dashed towards Silas and Nigel. Once she crashed into the two men, and breathed, “I-I have no idea where this came from and I'm certain it is connected to the strange marking. I'm not sure what this means. I was able to read it strangely, I think it is Latin now that I think about it. I have more thoughts, but I think I'm panicking.”

Elise handed Detective Silas Morgan the note, “I-I think you both need to look at this.”

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas | Nigel | Georgianna​

Nigel bit his lip in an attempt to hide the smirk that threatened to spill across his face as the word Benjie slipped from Silas’ mouth. An old nickname from boarding school that never failed to strike an immediate nerve in the police chief. As if on cue, Benjamin’s face flushed deep red in clear anger.

Silas held his hands up innocently, feigning a concerned look at Benjamin’s scolding. He stuck out his tongue devilishly when the man turned his back around to demand something for Nigel. The look only held momentarily, his joy evading him much too soon as he watched the suspects begrudgingly escorted out of the train car. He didn’t feel guilt for solving what happened to a bastard like Albert Cunningham, but he wished the group had come to him sooner. If their stories were anything like the young Henrietta’s, he was sure Albert had committed some vile act to earn each stab wound. If only they had come to him sooner--he could have exposed Albert, let him fry in the scalding judgement of the public eye.

His tunneling thoughts were cut off by a physical jolt--a push into his side from Benjamin. Silas turned his eyes down to the shorter man, taken aback in the moment and unable to form a retort in time before Benjamin began addressing Elise. He rolled his eyes dramatically to Elise in a mocking retort to Benjamin’s interesting choice of adjectives for himself. His gaze jet to his peripheral to take in a new arrival to their small group. Ah, Alexei, that was it. Silas watched the man’s movements when he greeted Elise, his golden eyes narrowed in skepticism. There was always a slyness to Benjamin’s assistant; he always moved as if he had something to hide. Silas never paid much mind to it and even as he interacted with Elise, he still felt the lack of energy to care. After all, the man was in the police department, and where they were concerned Silas was sure to head in the opposite direction. He watched the two detectives depart after they were finished their business with Elise.

Silas tilted his head to the side, studying Elise as she approached him, though her gaze still lingered after Alexei as he made his way across the train car to Nigel. “Hmm?” He hummed, amusement dancing in his eyes as the woman admitted her failings. She was determined to prove her methodology for the case, but was strangely forgiving in the places she had misstepped and assumed wrong. A quality in people that was rare to find anymore. Silas mulled over his thoughts, staring absently into the deep pool of blue that filled Elise’s eyes. He had never met an amnesiac before, let alone one with a personality of the woman before him. She was bold and flippant for the rules of polite society, someone that could sit in silence and work diligently alongside him and Nigel. Silas supposed he had made up his mind about taking on the woman’s case when she had first approached him, but where was the fun in that? If she couldn’t take a little teasing, she’d be miserable to be around.

He opened his mouth, eyes bright in preparation for his bold declaration--but the words that pierced the air belonged to the strict rigidity of the police force. They were barking orders for everyone to evacuate the train, leaving it for them to finish collecting evidence and clean properly. Silas let out a breath in frustration but stiffened his posture nonetheless, gesturing in a gentlemanly fashion for Elise to exit the train before him. He slid his eyes to the side, making brief eye contact with Nigel as he exited the train, conveying to his friend the thoughts that swarmed his mind.

Silas and Nigel let out a tortured groan in tandem at the sight of Benjamin’s small stature bouncing across the field towards them happily. “God--of course he’d jump at the chance to lick the bottom of Phillip’s shoe for the night,” Nigel sneered, unbothered to hide the visible disgust that coated his expression. Silas, on the other hand, gagged dramatically at the thought of spending even one hour in a car with Benjamin.

The police chief settled their new arrangement without a single glance in Silas or Nigel’s direction, only taking a moment to confirm with Elise. He bounded off back towards the car with a skip in his step, no doubt reveling in the torture he knew he would be subjecting the two men to. “Wow--look at him go, he really does look like a little leprechaun, doesn’t he?” Silas remarked, watching the man practically skip towards the carriage in the distance. “Better make sure you’re wearing green,” He huffed, mostly to himself.

Nigel glanced back to catch the disappearing edges of Elise’s dress as she climbed back into the train car, the beginning sounds of protest dying in his throat. She had already bounded out of earshot, anyway. He and Silas began walking towards the police carriage without her. Silas didn’t blame her for running, if that’s what her goal was. He had half a mind to as well, seeing Benjamin smirk haughtily at them in the distance.

“Huh--” He asked, turned around with widened eyes when the woman returned out of breath and panicked. Silas glanced down at the paper in her hands, immediately understanding the words scratched on the page. He recited them in his head as Elise explained how she had found it. His eyes snapped up to her critically, analyzing her features with a rather intense look to them the longer she talked. How the hell did she know Latin? It wasn’t exactly the popular language for society girls. Nigel’s muscles had stiffened beside him, clearly disturbed with the woman’s new findings.

Silas’ features were frozen into an uncharacteristically severe look for a brief second while he processed the information thrown before him. The symbol bothered him. It was the one piece to the case he wasn’t able to place properly, the one piece that still picked at his mind and made him restless. Now here it was, thrust back in his face one again.

“I’ll take your case on, Miss Grey,” Silas announced, taking the paper from her in one smooth motion and pocketing it on his person. “Nigel will draw up the paperwork for you when we get to London,” He smiled tersely and placed his hands in his pockets, whistling absently the rest of the walk to the carriage.

------

Silas and Nigel had settled into the police carriage begrudgingly, with Silas at the window and Nigel crammed between both him and Benjamin. They had opted to share the seat, allowing Elise a more comfortable ride only having to share a section with Alexei. The hour seemed to go by impossibly slow, Silas and Nigel offering several flat responses of “Oh, really?” and “wow--interesting” in response to Benjamin’s obvious chest puffing tales about the London police department and their most recent cases. About three quarters of the way there, Silas spotted a temporary camp for a travelling circus on the roadside, remarking absently to Benjamin that it looked like they were in need of a few dwarves to add to their troupe, something he may be well suited for if the need ever arose, which earned an enraged scolding from Benjamin and a blissful silence the rest of the way to the party.

When the carriage finally pulled up to the large country estate, Silas almost sagged against the window in relief. He opened the door to the side and hopped out before the carriage had even come to a full halt, Nigel hot on his heels. The butlers and carriage stewards gawked in shock, taken aback by their sudden exit from the vehicle.

“We’ll meet you inside!” Silas called back to Elise, waving one hand in the air while he and Nigel all but bounded up the large stone staircase to the entrance of the building. Nigel fidgeted with his appearance as they walked briskly through the halls, feeling the pressure of Georgianna’s oncoming wrath the closer they stepped towards the backyard. Dusk had already settled over the countryside, bringing with it cool temperatures and lowered inhibitions. The backyard was sprawling with flickering lanterns, igniting the crystal ware and expensive jewelry among the guests in an explosion of iridescence. Silas took in a deep breath, smiling to himself at the curation of flowers Georgianna had managed to cram into the outdoor space before them. He spotted the woman of the hour in the distance, a champagne flute in one had and a fan in the other, looking pained as she struggled to maintain conversation with the group around her. Worry had etched itself into her delicate features, no doubt about Silas and Nigel’s unexplained absence. She glanced to the side, doing a double take as the men's’ features clicked in her mind.

Ever the lady, Georgianna excused herself from the group with a polite curtsy to greet the detective and his assistant. When she turned to approach them however, her body language was anything but polite. “We’re so screwed,” Silas muttered under his breath to Nigel, who was too busy hiding his flushing awe at Georgianna’s well manicured appearance. She looked even more breathtaking than he remembered.

“Where the hell were you two?” She strained under her breath, leaning in to give Silas a vice-like hug. He grunted in pain, but forced a friendly smile on his face for the curious onlookers who had noted their arrival.

“Uh--there was a rather unfortunate twist thrown into our plans,” Silas admitted. He turned to look behind them, gesturing for Elise to join them outside. “Let me introduce you to her now. Oh--and we brought Benjamin with us too--unfortunately,” He rolled his eyes. “Phillip will be overjoyed, I’m sure.”

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey | Alexei | Benjamin Harris​

Many things were running through Elise’s mind while she was listening to Benjamin Harris jabber on about his triumphs of the police department. Well, she was not necessarily listening. She was using her thoughts to distract herself from her nauseous stomach. She supposed she was nauseous because she sat in the carriage for so long or sitting next to that strange man… Alexei, was it? Elise gazed out the window to watch the sunset behind the rolling hills. Hopefully, staring at the landscape with the breeze blowing in her face could ease her upset stomach.

Elise recalled a couple of things. First, Silas Morgan agreed to accept her case. That surprised her so much that she had to pinch herself to see if she wasn’t dreaming. Honestly, today was such an eventful day that it could have been a dream. She remembered watching Silas walking away casually with Nigel walking briskly behind. Still in shock, Elise wondered why he had decided to accept her case, even though she failed the challenge. Did she somehow tickle his itch for a good mystery? Or did her offer of being the men’s muscle somehow persuade them that they may need protection in future cases? Either way, Elise was relieved. It might have been reckless for her to place her entire fate into this strange man’s hands. Oh well, the best-case scenario occurred, and that was all that mattered.

Then there was that strange man, Alexei. When Elise followed behind the men once she got out of her shock, that was when she found out that man would be in the carriage with them. What made it worse was that she had to sit next to him. Elise remembered clutching her moneybag against her chest for comfort while carefully plopping next to the mysterious man. Goodness, she needed to stop thinking about this man, or she would accidentally vomit her afternoon tea out the window.

Elise blinked and realized that no one was talking anymore now that she was no longer lost in her thoughts. She glanced around at the three men sitting in front of her. Benjamin slouched in his seat with his arms crossed as if he was pouting about something. She wondered what could have happened to make the police detective upset like that. Since there was no noise to distract Elise from her nausea, she supposed she had to continue to stare out the window and pray to whoever was listening to end her misery.

Thankfully, the trip to this garden party came to an end. Thus, Elise’s suffering was over. Benjamin’s face lit up when he realized that the police carriage had arrived at their destination, and he quickly hopped off to wherever he was going. With Silas and Nigel practically leaving Elise behind once they arrived, she ended up alone with Alexei. Elise rushed to grab her bag to meet the men inside the country estate. However, right when she hopped out of the carriage, she heard a tiny chuckle, “Elise Grey, huh?”

Elise stopped herself, “…do you need something?”

“Beautiful choice for a name.” Alexei smiled, placing his hands in his pockets. Elise quirked a brow and realized she no longer wanted to be around this man. Maybe the reason why she did not like being in this man’s presence was that she might have an excellent sense of detecting creepy men. Alexei was clearly a creepy man. He was obviously sending some slimy-sweet nothings down her way. Maybe, that was why she felt uncomfortable whenever she was around him!

With Elise realizing she had a fifth sense of detecting which men were creepy, Benjamin Harris was off finding his dear friend, Philip. Philip’s hefty donations to the police department certainly helped the London Police Department financially. This mere thank-you letter was not enough to repay the duke’s generosity. Surely, Philip wouldn’t mind if the police chief invited himself to the party! During Benjamin’s search, he realized he hadn’t a clue where the duke was in this large country estate. Benjamin smacked himself on the head. The excitement for crashing a party was such a rebellious thing to do that he forgot he did not know his way around the place. He was also excited after hearing Philip boast about the spectacular drinks offered at this party. Now that was something to be excited for.

Benjamin felt a bit out of place ever since he arrived in his work uniform while guests wore something more extravagant. With a deep breath, the police chief shook off his nerves. Suddenly, it seemed that Lady Luck blessed him with who he was looking for.

“The Duke of Sutherland! You and Georgianna have thrown a marvelous party.” Benjamin waved at the shaggy, red-headed man. He got along with the duke well as they both went to the same school and shared a high distaste for that Silas. It seemed that even now, Benjamin would consider the duke a great friend to have as they both help each other in times of need. As of late, Philip had been sending large donations to the police department for some reason. Maybe it was out of the kindness of his heart. Which reminded him of the thank-you letter. Benjamin rubbed his head sheepishly, “The police department and I have written you a thank-you letter for your kind donations. I know you didn’t have to send donations to the department, but you did. As a friend and police chief, I humbly and gratefully thank you for all you do.”

After handing the duke the letter, Benjamin grinned. “Now with the formalities aside, how have you and Georgianna been doing, old friend? I happen to have run into,” he rolled his eyes, “Silas Morgan and Nigel Fairfax. I met them solving a case after months of not taking any! It drove me bonkers to see them not following any investigative regulations!”
—
Once Elise left Alexei at the carriage, she stared in awe at how grand and beautiful the country estate was. There was a large stone staircase leading up to an entrance decorated with various flora. The sun had finally set, letting the lanterns softly glow as they scattered about. The estate had beige painted on the walls with copper rooftops and white trimmings. It certainly made Elise feel warm and comfortable.

She walked up the stairs to keep up with the men’s brisk walk to who knows where. Entering the manor was a bit overwhelming for a woman that knew no one. Women were wearing colorful and frilly dresses tittering with average-looking bachelors in bland suits. Glasses of champagne clinked against each other as laugher erupted throughout the garden. Elise assumed this party must be an event for the rich, a place she may or may not belong to. Honestly, she didn’t feel comfortable here. Elise wondered if it was because she was surrounded by fancy men and women that sometimes eyed her in her plain dress and giggled after seeing her. Or I am overthinking and lost in my thoughts once again.

A familiar hand shot through the air as it beckoned Elise to come to its location. Well, it did not seem all that familiar. She thought of that to be dramatic. According to Nigel’s book of manners, women were deemed dramatic. Another ridiculous thing that Elise regretted reading about. Clutching her bag, she followed the hand that hopefully belonged to Silas. Luckily, it was the detective’s hand but right when she arrived, she overheard him referring to her as “an unfortunate twist.” Elise tightened her grip and frowned, “I am sure I am not an unfortunate twist. The circumstances of our meeting today were unfortunate as I have witnessed my first dead body, but I think I am a charming person once people get to know me.”

Once Elise got settled, she looked up and almost dropped her bag to see a beautiful woman with dainty features yet seemed to have a fiery spirit behind them. At least, that’s what Elise assumed. Had she… fallen for this woman? Elise shook her head. Of course not. How would she know what love felt like? Or maybe it was an admiration of some sort as she seemed like a rare wealthy woman with a genuine personality. Oh goodness, she had been staring for too long. Elise fumbled with her moneybag, trying to figure out what to do. According to Nigel’s guidebook of mannerisms: When the initiator introduced themselves to another wealthy person, they need to shake hands. Elise brought out her hand, “E-Elise Grey.”

She gasped.

Men shake hands, women curtsy.

God! How could she embarrass herself in front of this woman! With a drop of the moneybag followed by an awkward curtsy, “I apologize, I am afraid I don’t know much about the societal rules of the wealthy.”

Goodness, Elise certainly needed a drink.

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax | Georgianna Hastings | Phillip Egerton

​

Phillip smiled kindly to the police chief who approached him. "Why, Benjamin old friend! It's always a pleasure to see you. I always aim to do what I can to help out the police department, you know that." He listened to Benjamin talk further, expression souring at the mention of Silas and Nigel. "Georgianna and I are doing wonderfully. She's in full spirits planning the wedding, we both couldn't be happier. I'm sure she's reunited with her brother and Mr. Fairfax now, why don't we go ahead and join them? You can tell me all the violations they made on the way there," Phillip said, gesturing for Benjamin to begin walking towards the garden.

--

Silas cracked a sideways smile at Elise's defiant response to his choice of words. Georgianna shot him a deadly glance and Nigel just offered a sigh. He titled his head to the side, a playful gleam igniting his eyes into mischief. "Why, that's a bold statement Miss Grey, considering you have amnesia. How could you possibly know if today was your first sight of a dead body? For all you know, your father could have been a mortician. Even worse, you could have been a serial murderer." Georgianna cleared her throat loudly after noting a few cautious glances their way. She jutted her elbow into Silas' side as she opened her fan to begin fanning herself leisurely. "Right," Silas wheezed after the blow to his ribs. "Miss Grey, This is my charming and well loved sister Miss Georgianna Hastings."

Georgianna beamed, curtsying gracefully before Elise. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Grey. You must excuse my brother Silas, he can be quite--simple at times," She said, the gleam of daggers in her smile as she regarded Silas once more. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the roaming waiters carrying bubbling glasses of champagne. He scooped two from one who passed by close enough for his lanky arm to reach, passing one of the thin flutes to Nigel, who accepted wordlessly.

Silas took a long gulp of the bubbling drink, feeling the burn of alcohol trace a fiery trail down his throat and into his stomach. He glanced towards Elise, who stood empty handed. Should he have grabbed her a drink too? Silas was so used to working with Nigel and Nigel alone that the thought to keep her in mind as well was absent.

Georgianna giggled at Elise's obvious panic and confusion of the proper manners to adopt in the situation. She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry dear, I've been learning them my entire life and I still happen across new rules everyday. I'd be more than happy to guide you through it if that is what you wish."

"Georgianna is a great teacher," Nigel chimed in, admiration glittering in his eyes. Georgianna flushed at his praise, the speed at which she was fanning herself increasing ever so slightly. "If she was able to get this problem child under control, I'm sure she can catch you up to speed in no time," He said, slapping Silas on the shoulder. The detective choked on the drink he had just swallowed at the impact.

"Georgianna!" A booming voice called from the entrance of the building. "Look who I found lurking about the hallways!"

Nigel and Silas groaned in tandem, Silas still coughing periodically as his body tried to rid the fizzing champagne from his lungs. Georgianna smiled, the action igniting her delicate features into a charming blush. "Do join us, dear Phillip," She waved the man over. "Be nice," She strained under her breath to Silas specifically.

The two men in the distance approached, one of them comically shorter than the other. The taller man that had joined them was Phillip Egerton, Georgianna's fiancé, the Duke of Sutherland and most importantly, Silas' most hated rival. The man was always competing with him in their academy days, whether it be for the highest marks, the quickest sprint time, or the most popularity. Silas, of course, was never actually playing the game. He preferred to egg the Duke on, teasing him for his title and narcissism at any chance he could get.

"Ah well if it isn't our dear friends Benjamin Harris and the Duke of Underpants--I mean Sutherland," Silas corrected quickly, a deviously sick smile spreading across his face. "Sorry, that title always seems to be quite a tongue twister for me." Nigel suppressed a grin from breaking his serious countenance once he saw the rage flare up in Phillip's face.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Silas," Phillip said, his voice strained in forced cordiality.

"That makes one of us," Silas said, the look on his face friendly despite the venom laced in his words. Georgianna gripped his arm, the action causing him to wince subtly.

"And who may this young miss be? Did one of you two esteemed bachelors finally manage to pin down a fiancé?" Phillip asked, voice dripping in disdain for the two men as he regarded Elise before them all. The girl stood timidly, her discomfort for this type of situation obvious in her expression. A small amount of pity hit his chest as he looked at the young woman. Where the hell did those two manage to pick her up from?

"No, no, dear," Georgianna corrected with a laugh after noting the wide eyed shock that struck both Silas and Nigel into silence. "Miss Elise Grey here is a new acquaintance of Silas and Nigel."

"Ah, that makes much more sense," Phillip nodded, matter of fact.

Silas stiffened beside him while Nigel's face darkened into a serious expression. "Well," Silas began, already sick of the interaction he had been forced into. "It seems like my table has been quite lonely in Nigel's and my absence. Regretfully I must part ways for the time being," He barely grit out, pushing down the hostility that rose like hot acid at the back of his throat. This was Georgianna's party, after all. He couldn't bring scandal or informality after all the hard work she had put in. No matter how much the sight of Phillip made his chest burn in disgust and anger. Nigel stayed silent, the knuckles of the hand that gripped his drink turning white.

"Elise, why don't you join us? I'm sure you must be famished after a day like today," Silas said. His language was polite, a stark change from his usual sarcastic tone.

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey | Benjamin Harris​

Elise felt out of place in a rag-tag group full of interesting characters. It made sense since today was the day she met all of them for the first time. It also did not help that Elise was in a grand party that belonged to none other than the diamond of the party, Georgianna Hastings. Elise wanted to retort to Silas, but the conversation quickly switched to a different topic. She felt like she had lost her chance to make a snarky comeback.

Elise relaxed her grip on her bag and smiled in relief, “Thank you, I believe I will take you up on your offer. I know Nigel tried to help me out earlier by letting me borrow a book about the mannerisms and rules of proper society. So, I have him to thank for helping me out.”

It wasn’t a secret that Nigel was at least smitten with Miss Hastings to the point that his entire demeanor changed when he was around her. Nigel seemed like he was absolutely drooling over her. She thought it was cute to see his eyes light up with excitement whenever they would catch her glance. Elise thought she would be nice to help him out in wooing this woman, though she may have been reading too much into the interaction between the two. It was comical to see Silas receiving verbal and physical hits either way. Elise let out a small chuckle when she witnessed Nigel busy fawning over Georgianna.

Elise jumped in surprise when booming voices called for the lady of the house. She quirked a brow when both boys groaned, and it made the amnesiac worry who it was. Or maybe she shouldn’t have had to worry because that was the same reaction they had when the police chief made an appearance. That was when Elise made the realization that maybe the detective and his partner may be a bit overdramatic.

A man with long, scarlet hair came marching in with the police chief in tow. Elise assumed that if Silas and Nigel did not like Benjamin Harris, they must also not like the red-haired man who sported the eyepatch. Elise quickly covered her mouth to suppress a gasp when Silas greeted the duke with a snide comment. She watched the men continue to spat snarky comments at each other. Finally, the duke silenced Silas with a statement about her. Elise clenched her bag in discomfort since she realized she didn’t like being pulled into other people’s fights. It also didn’t help that her anxiety about being at this party increased once more.

Benjamin noticed Elise’s discomfort and shot her an apologetic look. He was determined to explain to his good friend, Phillip, who this woman was and how essential she was to today’s case. He gave a nervous chuckle, “I just met this lovely woman today. I was also surprised to meet a woman that has the guts to hang around with these irritat—I mean… hardworking men.”

The police chief beamed at Elise, wanting to reassure her that he did his best to relieve whatever discomfort she may have been feeling. Unfortunately, Elise did not pick up the intention behind his comments because it made her feel even more anxious than she did before. Maybe Elise didn’t like being in large crowds filled with people she didn’t know. As soon as Silas called out for her to come to join him and Nigel at an empty table, she left the other party without a word.

As soon as Silas’ group left, Benjamin turned to speak with Miss Hastings and Philip once more. “Miss Hastings! You throw such beautiful and grand parties. I apologize for crashing today’s party without an invitation. I wanted to share my gratitude with your fiancé for his hefty donations to the police department.”

The police chief noticed Philip’s slight curiosity about Elise. Benjamin stood on his tiptoes and spoke in a hushed voice, “Between you and me, I was surprised that the men hired an assistant-- a female one at that! I was even more shocked that they knew how to interact with women that weren’t Miss Hastings.”

--
Once Elise sat down with the men, she slumped. A wave of exhaustion washed through her as her body finally processed how exciting and tiresome her day was. A waiter quickly walked by with a plate full of glasses of champagne. Elise licked her lips and snatched a glass so quick that the waiter was unsure what had happened. The young woman took a giant swig of her champagne just as quickly as she snatched it from the waiter’s plate. Elise had never had champagne before (that she knew of) and wished the alcohol didn’t taste as bitter. Maybe if she mixed it with juice, it would taste better. As soon as Elise finished her drink, her face grew hot, and the room wobbled. She also noticed the surprised looks on her acquaintances’ faces.

Embarrassed, Elise dabbed her mouth with a napkin and cleared her voice, “I, um… have been dying for a drink, so don’t mind me.”

Elise stared out into the crowds of proper men and women mingling. She saw that the police chief’s assistant was now part of the other party, and she felt uncomfortable again. Wanting to start a conversation, Elise asked, “So you both know all you could know about me… so..” Elise paused, trying to find her words since she seemed to not be able to form some at the moment. “What are your life stories?”

Elise played with her empty champagne glass while she listened to the men talk about various things. She was struggling to stay awake, and it seemed like the alcohol was not helping. Suddenly, Elise stood up, feeling frantic. She exclaimed, “I realize I have no place to stay, nor do I have an extra change of clothes. It’s getting extremely late, so I will be taking my leave.”

As soon as Elise began walking out of her seat, she missed a step and clung to her chair for dear life. She fumed. Elise realized she should have eaten something before downing a glass of champagne because it should not have made her this drunk. Or so she hoped because she thought being a woman who could not handle her alcohol was embarrassing and dangerous.

 

[Pepsionne]

Silas Morgan | Nigel Fairfax
​

Silas flagged down another server once seated, trading them a taut smile for two more flutes of champagne. Phillip had a way of dredging up more feelings in Silas than the detective liked to fully admit. He was like a pesky thorn in Silas’ side, always inserting himself in his life for some unknown reason. Was his desire to best Silas that strong as to include himself in Silas’ circle, years after their academy days had come to an end? The same could be said for Benjamin, frankly, the annoying little foot soldier of the law that he was. Silas’ life would be much easier without the nuisance of the two of them, but then again, if there was no challenge--what was the point?

Nigel’s body language had stiffened considerably since Phillip’s arrival. The man’s gaze flitted around the backyard garden, landing anywhere and everywhere except the perfect picture of the happily engaged couple now speaking with Benjamin in their absence. Nigel hated the ring Phillip had bought Georgianna for their engagement. It was gaudy, for show. The majority of Gigi’s jewelry was a soft gold, her favorite, yet the imbecile had gotten her a cold sterling silver. Nigel swallowed back a stinging acidity that had begun to rise in his throat, numbing the feeling instead with the champagne Silas slid his way. He could already feel the heat of the alcohol crawling its way up his neck.

The Detective and his partner remained at the table in a comfortable silence for a beat. The day had been long for them, with unexpected twists dousing them both in an uneasy state. The murder was unexpected, certainly, but what raised the warnings in Silas’ mind was the odd symbol carved into the victim’s wrist. He was still unable to place it amongst the evidence and the culprits. Although unexpected, it was not random. The mutilation was--calculated. Purposeful. Something dark was beginning to brew in London, he could feel the dread settling into his bones.

The two men barely registered Elise’s arrival at their table at first, too wrapped in their own individual planes of thought. They both turned their attention to her only after she snatched a glass of champagne from one of the roaming waiters. Silas tried to stifle his look of bewilderment from spoiling his face at the sight of the woman downing the champagne like water. His throat burned in sympathy at the contorted grimace that passed over her face at the overwhelming sensation the champagne offered.

“Right--” Silas said, clearing his throat in response to Elise’s comment. He couldn’t blame her, really. He had put a lot of pressure on her for the sake of his own amusement. He tilted his head to the side, studying the young woman before him as she prodded the two of them with her next question.

A devilish look passed into Silas’ eyes, lighting them up with the same cat-like mischief that had overtaken them on the train. “Ah--so the amnesiac finally wishes to learn more about the two men she thrust herself upon huh?” He barked out a laugh. “In polite society, Miss Elise, you usually learn as much as you can about the other person before intertwining your life with theirs. But I’ll give you a pass because of--well you know the amnesia and everything,”

Nigel rolled his eyes at Silas’ banter. “You’ll learn as you go,” he said to Elise with a soft shrug. “I don’t necessarily spill my darkest secrets to a woman I’ve known for less than a day, but I’ll offer you this,” He paused, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Silas and I have known each other since grade school. We’ve been friends since.”

Silas nodded fervently to Nigel’s brief explanation. “I was something of a child prodigy, you see, and Nigel just couldn’t resist his admiration for me. He stuck to my side like a--like a maggot to trash,”

“You realize that would make you the trash, Silas,” Nigel scoffed.

“Yeah--yeah, tomato tomahto. Basically, we go way back,” Silas smiled, gesturing with one finger between him and Nigel. The alcohol had by this point warmed Silas’ inhibitions into a malleable form, and he smiled lazily at his partner. “Hey, you remember that one time when we were handed that case at the old jail? The supposedly haunted one, and Gigi insisted on coming along just to prove she wasn’t scared?”

Nigel laughed at the memory, going along with Silas’ sudden nostalgic mood. His eyes drifted to Elise while Silas recounted the tale, noticing her attention begin to slowly drift off into the thick night air as she began to give in to the pull of sleep. Towards the end of the tale, both men had almost forgotten about her presence, too lost in the fog of nostalgia from Silas’ sudden urge to talk about the past. So when Elise stood up suddenly, panic replacing the drunken contentment that had relaxed her delicate features mere seconds earlier, the two men were caught in a startled stupidity.

“Jesus,” Silas’ breathed after a moment, clutching his chest with one hand. “You coulda announced that with a little less of a start,” He mumbled under his breath, earning himself a kick in the shin from Nigel.

“Pray tell, Miss Grey,” Nigel said, leaning back into his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where will you go? Do you even know what town we are located in and in which direction you take to reach London?”

A Cheshire grin spread across Silas’ features. He copied Nigel’s lax posture by sitting back in his chair as well, but he rested his arms behind his head instead. “He does have a point Miss Grey, I took you on as my apprentice, that’s no light feat. Although it might be a great way to test your skills to see if you can make it back to London on your own--ow!” He grimaced after receiving another blow to his shin by Nigel’s foot, who stared daggers in his direction. They both watched blankly as Elise stood only to stumble against her chair. Several stares from other party goers blanketed over them, including the Police Chief and the Duke, increasing the pressure tenfold. He could feel Nigel’s mood sour before even having to look over at him.

Silas’ demeanor changed like the switch of a light. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene at Georgiana’s party or give Phillip and Benjamin fodder to chastise them with. It was bad enough that he had shown up this late to begin with. Silas stood suddenly, his tall frame towering over Elise as he stared intently down at the young woman. “Miss Grey,” He said, his voice taut. “Let me accompany you to your quarters so you can retire for the night. I’m sure Georgianna won’t mind sharing her bedchambers with you,” He smiled formally, feeling the pressure of stares beginning to wane from focusing in on their direction. The halted conversations began to flare up again, the ambience of small talk blanketing over them comfortably once more. "Until you can get back on your feet, allow us to entrust you in our care. Gigi will help get you settled once she retires for the night," Silas said, voice low so as to only be heard by Elise.

 

[sunnieside]

Elise Grey​

For the first time in a couple of days of Elise’s existence, she felt… embarrassed. Or maybe this would’ve been the second time, or perhaps even the third time. Why was she keeping track of how many times she was embarrassed about something? She felt several pairs of eyes on her as the guests’ chatter quickened to a silence after her little trip. The drunken blush splattered across her face and deepened the longer she stood there. It surprised her that she was this embarrassed to have probably caused a scene. Elise made a fool of herself all day today and didn’t have a care in the world whether other people noticed or not. So, why did she care now?

Ah, the drunk woman thought to herself, I do not have control of my actions right now.

She looked up to see Silas standing over her with a forced smile like he didn’t want to portray this formal façade. From the short time Elise had known this man, she had noticed he preferred being playful. He would rather be preoccupied with exciting things, such as teasing others for his own enjoyment. He was a man pursuing entertainment in his life. But, of course, with the rules of society getting in the way, he must abide by those rules. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t just… succumb to his desires.

As soon as Silas made his statement to “accompany her to her quarters” for the night, the eavesdropping guests began their chatter and focused on each other. Elise sighed in relief, only to have the detective whisper that he and his companions help her get settled.

She bit her lip and felt guilty for how much she bombarded these men’s lives like a gigantic thorn to their sides. Not only did Elise push them to solve her problem, but now she is basically making them offer her their help so she could live.

I really did thrust myself into their lives without thinking, didn’t I? Elise thought to herself. Well, they did offer to help her find a place to stay without her prompting… so she might as well take their offer. To lessen the guilt, Elise will just blame it on having too much alcohol and the fact that she has amnesia.

Elise pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and forced a smile back, “I… I appreciate the offer. I believe the alcohol has made me grow weary as the night went on.” Then she paused and smirked, “I hope the amnesia pass you stated that I had earlier will also cover for this-“

Elise quickly grabbed ahold of Silas’s arm, as he was the nearest person to her if she tripped again like earlier. Then she turned to Nigel and threw her bag full of money to him so he could carry it. “I assure you, if I am with a sound mind, I would have figured out how to get back home on my own. I mean, I have survived thus far, haven’t I?” she winked. Elise hoped she winked in a non-drunken way. But, with how the world was spinning, her snarky comeback and wink may not have had a smooth effect as she had thought.

“As you both have seen earlier, I’ve had a bit too much to drink, and I cannot walk straight. So, if you both would please lead the way.” Elise clung to the detective’s arm as the three walked to their destination.

As the three walked inside the mansion, they attracted surprising looks, especially from the police chief, the duke, and Miss Hastings. The startled police chief couldn’t stop coughing on his pastry and pounded on his chest to get it out. Once he got it out, it landed on the duke’s face, which grew red with anger while Georgianna consoled him as much as she could. It was a comical sight but not enough to make a scene.

Elise noticed that Silas’s arm was unexpectedly toned despite how lanky he seemed. Maybe it was due to him running around solving crimes. She wasn’t sure why she noticed that, but it made her start to ramble about her day. Or maybe she was rambling because she was drunk. Or that she just had nothing else to lose since all she had was a big bag full of money and her two-day-old clothes that probably gave off an odor by now.

“So, Detective,” Elise began as they walked up a flight of stairs, “Why are you keeping me around when you could have easily broken our promise? It isn’t like I am holding you or Nigel captive or anything. Although, if you did reject me, I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight for a while.” She laughed.

Elise continued, “Do you not think it strange that an amnesiac appeared to you out of nowhere and then right after there was a murder? But, then, there was a unique symbol found on the victim and in my bag? You would think I was actually behind that murder, but I am sure I wasn’t. What do I know, though? I’m just a woman who came into existence a couple of days ago.”

The young woman stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to the two men, “What if the symbol was a trap to lure you and me into something? I’m not sure if today’s unexpected events were coincidental. I think they were planned. What do you two think?”

The guests’ laughter and the party music began to disappear into the background as the noise was replaced by Elise’s rapid heartbeat. She realized she got herself worked up tonight and started fiddling with her fingers.