Music Recommendation: Die Reisenden 2- Ben Frost

(Listen to music for better immersive reading ^.~)

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When Graham returned to the manor with Gilbert following him, he saw Louise standing next to his mother, sitting on a chair with a dazed and devastated expression on her face in the hall. 

Leaving her mother-in-law’s side, Louise walked her husband, who met her eyes. She walked with Graham to Lady Agatha’s room, where the lady lay on the bed. Some of the male servants stood outside the room while the maids were near Lady Viola. 

After seeing his aunt dead, Graham turned to her and asked, “How did this happen?”

Louise shook her head, “I don’t know,” she said in a low voice. “I was out with Gilbert when we heard the scream and rushed here to see her in this state. I told the servants to not touch her, so that the officers would be able to find something.” The last time when Graham’s father had been found dead, Lady Viola had pulled out the knives, and it had led to the officers questioning them endlessly. 

Graham nodded his head, his words falling short because of the shock he was in after seeing his aunt. 

Turning around, he ordered Gilbert, “Go and inform the officers and someone to get the casket ready. And also send someone to notify Alison and Henry about what has happened.”

“Yes, Master Graham,” Gilbert bowed his head and stepped out of the room. 

When they stepped out of the room, away from Lady Viola and the servants, Louise said, “I found finger marks on her neck, as if she was squeezed to death.” It was spine-chilling to think that the ghost had also tried to wrap its hands around her neck when she had been in the bath a few days ago. 

Graham’s eyebrows furrowed, and he asked, “How did she scream if the ghost tried to squeeze her neck?”

“It wasn’t Lady Agatha, but Emily who screamed on finding her in this state. She had come to serve tea,” replied Louise. After she had sent Gilbert to inform and bring Graham to the manor, she had inquired the servants on who was the first one to find Lady Agatha in such a state. “The servants are scared.” Though they didn’t utter a word, they now had doubts in their minds. 

An hour later, Mr. Burton and Mr. Shaw arrived in the manor to inspect the new death that had occurred here. 

“Do you have any explanation of what exactly is going on here, Mr. Reed?” Mr. Shaw questioned Graham while closely examining the dead woman’s neck. “In less than two months, this is the third unusual death in your family, and this happened in broad daylight. All the deaths and no one was there to witness any of them.”

“I was at my work place when this happened, officer Shaw,” responded Graham with a frown. 

“Hm,” Officer Shaw nodded his head and then looked at Louise. “How about yourself, milady?”

“I was outside with the butler,” replied Louise. “I think you are looking for answers in the wrong direction, Mr. Shaw. It might be time to open your mind to the possibilities.” 

“I am, milady. Which is why I am asking the questions. What were you doing outside the manor?” the officer asked her as if she had suddenly turned to be a prime suspect in this case. “In the past, it was only Mr. Reed’s wives who had died. But their deaths were recorded over an uneven period of time. But since you married into the family, it seems like the family members have started to die within a short time. Either by suicide or by getting murdered.” 

Louise stared at the man, “I was in the backside of the manor. I was watching the butler wash a dress.”

“Aren’t there maids to do that?” Mr. Shaw continued to interrogate her. 

“There are, but this was a delicate dress,” replied Louise. She would have given more details to him, but so far from what she had seen, the only information she and Graham had received was about Elias Latton’s death and his connection with Mr. Ernest Wensley. “I don’t think there is anything wrong in watching a house chore being done, is it?” she questioned him back.

“Mr. Shaw,” Graham came to intervene, “Louise has nothing to do with it. We didn’t even meet each other until a few weeks before our wedding.” Turning to Mr. Burton, he asked, “Did you find anything about the body that you had taken from here?” 

Mr. Burton was closely looking at Lady Agatha’s face with a frown on his face while his eyes moved to her neck. Looking up, he said, 

“Four days ago, I visited the experts. They said they would be able to give an answer by tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. With this being a clear murder case, especially in such short time we would would need to take everyone to the station for interrogation. But then, it isn’t like you have hid the body. We aren’t sure what exactly is going on, and if you have informed us only with the intention to throw us off the track, Mr. Reed. I heard that your sister and brother-in-law aren’t living with your family anymore?”

“They haven’t moved out of the manor. They have gone to Henry’s parent’s house for a month’s vacation. With these many deaths, it was only right for them to take some time away from here,” explained Graham, and Mr. Burton nodded his head. 

In the meantime, Louise’s eyes turned to look at the clock that had stopped at four past eleven in the room. 

While Mr. Shaw was speaking to Graham and Lady Viola, noticing Louise stare, Mr. Burton came to stand next to her, “Has the watch stopped working?”

Louise shook her head, “It always comes to stop at this particular hour as if it means something.”

“Lady Louise, I am not trying to scare you… but the way things are now, it isn’t looking good for your family. Even if you claim it to be a ghost’s doing, we need evidence about it,” said the man to her with a grim look on his face. “I came to hear that you went to visit our chief at the department. Why are you interested in knowing the details of the Saltonstall’s family?”

She turned around, making sure no one was paying attention to them. She then said, “Do you remember we spoke about Marlow Saltonstall’s name, coming up when we went to meet the tailor, about the wedding gown?” Seeing him nod, she continued to stay, “I think the night the family was found dead, out of the three one person survived. I have my doubts that the elder daughter survived.”

“Why didn’t anybody hear from her or see her again? It is hard for a child of her age to survive,” questioned Mr. Burton. 

“I have the same questions. I need your help on something. Of course, I can get the approval from your chief of the department that you,” said Louise and the man sighed. 

“That won’t be needed. With your employer’s connection and influence it would be an easy pass for you. There’s no need for the roundabout. What is it about, Lady Louise?” asked Mr. Burton. Mr. Winkle was a famous man during the prime years, and he was a highly sought out legal lawyer. 

“I will meet you tomorrow at the department and will let you know there,” replied Louise, not wanting to speak something that could fall on another person’s ears or the ghost’s ears. 

Mr. Burton nodded his head. 

Once the two officers finished interrogating, they left the scene. 

The family members waited for Alison, Henry and their daughter Molly, and once they arrived, Lady Agatha was buried next to her husband, Ernest Wensley. This time, they didn’t invite any guests from outside, wanting the matter to be kept private so that it wouldn’t gain unnecessary attention to their family, as it could make things worse. 

The next day, Louise went to the investigation department, and Mr. Burton, who was waiting for her, greeted with a bow, “Good morning, Lady Louise.”

“Good morning, Mr. Burton,” she returned the bow, her eyes looking around the place that she visited before. 

“Please tell me in what way I can help you with,” Mr. Burton asked her in curiosity as the lady hadn’t mentioned anything the last time they had met at the manor. 

“I believe you hold some of the death records here of people who live in this town?” asked Louise in a polite manner. In Mr. Winkle’s office, she had already checked, and there were only certain files, which weren’t of much use for her.

“You want to take a look at the names of the people who died? We have already thoroughly checked everything that could possibly connect to the Reed’s family with some cluse. But we haven’t found anything. It is a lost path,” replied Mr. Burton. “But if you still insist, follow me this way,” and he led her through the right-side corridor. “Officer Shaw doesn’t believe in the existence of ghosts and which is why I didn’t mention about you coming to visit us today.”

“Does that mean you believe in it?” questioned Louise, looking at the man who held a serious expression on his face. 

“I wouldn’t go that far, milady. I am only putting my faith in your words. Also because I have known the Reed’s for quite some time. My father used to be an investigating officer like me, and he knew your husband’s father Mr. Robert Reed. A well reputed man, who was dignified and polite. One of the good families in Warlington as well as in Habsburg,” explained Mr. Burton. He raised his hand to the left direction, and she took a left to follow him. He asked her, “Did you find something about the ghost?”

“It is a woman,” replied Louise and Mr. Burton looked taken aback by this information. “Though I don’t know who it is.” 

When they reached a room near the end of the corridor, Mr. Burton pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Pushing it open, he stepped inside, and she stepped into the room.

“This is the room where all the death records have been stored. I believe we do have some records about Warlington, Midville and Hungate in another room. But since last year we stopped keeping the death records as the other towns are keeping a track and storing in their own investigating offices.”

“That’s fine,” replied Louise, looking at the racks that covered the four sides of the walls with boxes. “This should be good enough for me.” 

Mr. Burton gave her a nod, “They are categorized into years and months, so it is easy to find. Which one are you looking for?” he asked. 

“Records of three years back. I am not sure about the month,” said Louise, moving closer to the shelves. 

Her eyes moved from one box to another while Mr. Burton, who had stayed in the room, helped her in picking up the boxes. She read through the names of each file, her hands reaching for one file after another. More than three hours passed, but she didn’t find what she was looking for. 

Like her, Mr. Burton was going through the files again when something he said caught her attention. He said, 

“Looks like one of the associates dropped a plain file of sheets in the box. I keep tell Officer Shaw that before the new associates join, we need to train them-“

“Plain sheets?” questioned Louise, placing the file that she was reading on the counter. Coming to his side, she noticed it was indeed plain sheets with no name on it. 

Seeing the young lady’s sudden interest in some plain sheets, Mr. Burton looked confused. 

“May I?” Louise asked the officer. 

She took hold of the file from him, bringing it near her face and took a close look at it, “It turned into a plain paper over time,” murmured Louise. 

“I don’t think it is possible. What we use here is fine quality ink and sheets, where the ink will continue to stay on the sheets for at least more than two to three decades,” stated Mr. Burton, after taking another look at the paper. “It must have been just a mistake.”

But Louise didn’t think it to be so, “This has happened even before. I have either found plain sheets of papers or have found missing words from the written document. Despite it being a good ink and being saved in a good condition, the writing is always erased or missing that relates to the incident that had taken place some time ago. As if something tried to erase the very existence of a thing that happened during this period of time.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard of such phenomena before. It is highly impossible,” stated the officer.

Louise then asked, “Which box of month did you find it in?”

“It is the month of July. Let me check the dates that it falls between,” and Mr. Burton ran his fingers across the files. “The dates should be somewhere between twenty-one and twenty-sixth of the month.”

Summer… Isn’t that what Gilbert mentioned when he had explained to her about the footsteps with water drops on the ground. 

“I think I know how to find it,” murmured Louise, and Mr. Burton gave her a questionable look. 

“Do you want me to take out the other boxes?” 

Louise shook her head and said, “No, that won’t be required. This was very helpful, Mr. Burton.”

Mr. Burton started to put the files back inside the boxes, and Louise helped him with it. He said, “I am going to the morgue where the experts are. Hopefully, they already have the results. Do you want me to arrange you a carriage to get back to the manor, Lady Louise?”

“No, that is fine. My carriage is waiting outside,” she offered Mr. Burton an appreciative smile. “Also I am going to visit the local library to find the name of the person who was writing the articles for the newspapers three years ago. Thank you once again for your help,” she bowed her head, and the officer did the same. 

Leaving the building, Louise headed to the local library of Habsburg town.

When Louise entered the library, she went to the helper boy of the library, Winslow and went to the room where the old newspapers were stored in the storage room. And when her eyes fell on the newspaper published on the twenty-fourth of July that dated to nearly three years ago, she noticed the blank and faded section on one page of the newspaper. 

Louise already knew this was going to happen, and it didn’t surprise her anymore. Instead, she had looked forward to finding something like this. It was the beacon of hope to the questions in her mind. 

Not wanting to leave any stone unturned, she checked the month of June and August’s newspapers. She found another newspaper dated to the month of June, which had a blank section, and she wondered what it was about. 

Two events? Questioned Louise in her mind. 

Walking to where there was abundant light, she brought the newspaper closer to her face to look at the bottom and see the writer’s name.

Turning to Winslow, who was with her, she asked him, “Does the writer Benjamin Inwood still write articles for the local newspapers?” questioned Louise. 

“Benjamin Inwood?” the boy repeated the name. A thoughtful expression came to fall on his face before he said, “He doesn’t write for our town’s newspaper anymore, milady. I miss his articles as the particular section used to be filled with gossip. He got a better job and moved to another town.”

Checking the other newspapers, Louise realized Winslow was right. The writer had a dedicated column, where wrote gossip about the town and its people to attract readers for the newspaper. 

“We have names of writers of the books as well as people who write for newspapers. Most of the officers like to have a record and we have been saving it,” stated Winslow.

Louise stepped out of the storage room with Winslow and followed him to the library’s front, where the book racks were present. The boy wrote down the address of this man named Benjamin on a piece of paper and gave it to her. 

“Thank you, Winslow,” Louise thanked the boy. 

“You are welcome, Lady Louise. It has been a while since you last visited here, I hope you are doing well,” said the boy politely. 

“I am, and I hope you are too,” she gave him a bright smile. “I will see you later.”

“Yes, milady. Please be safe,” and at the boy’s words, she gave him a nod and walked out of there with the address of Benjamin Inwood in her hand. 

While making her way towards the carriage, she sensed some townsfolk’s eyes fall on her. Whispers and glances that passed quietly at her before she got into her carriage. The news about the number of deaths in Reed’s manor must have reached and spread all over the place, thought Louise in her mind, while the carriage started to move. 

When she reached the place of the given address that was four towns away from Habsburg, the coachman pulled back the horses’ reins to stop the carriage and opened the carriage door for her to get down.

“Would you like me to accompany you, Lady Louise?” asked her coachman once he closed the carriage’s door. 

“It is fine. I shouldn’t be too long,” she replied.

Louise noticed the humble house that was built among the other houses in the vicinity. Walking to the door, she knocked on the door. When the door opened, a woman opened the door, who had an apron tied around her waist. 

“Yes?” asked the woman looking at her. 

Louise bowed her head, and the woman bowed back, “I am Louise Evardon and I was wondering if this was the Inwood’s residence?” 

“It is,” the woman affirmed. 

Hearing this, Louise let out an internal sigh of relief and asked the woman, “Is Mr. Inwood in the house? I had some questions to ask and discuss with him.”

The woman’s eyes fell on the rolled newspapers that Louise carried in her hands. Opening the door wide, the woman said, “Please, come in and have a seat. Let me go get my husband. Would you like something to drink?” she asked, being polite. 

“No, I am fine, thank you,” Louise offered the woman a smile, who had a small smile before she disappeared to fetch her husband. 

Five minutes later, Louise heard footsteps approach the living room where she sat, and a man in his early forties appeared in the room. When she was about to stand, the man said, “Please sit down. Benjamin Inwood.” 

“Louise Evardon,” she introduced herself. She purposely introduced herself as Evardon so that she could get the information from the person so that he wouldn’t hold back any information. 

“I heard from Lydia that you wanted to see me?” He looked at her with curious eyes. 

“Yes, I apologise for showing up without letting you know beforehand,” apologized Louise and saw the man sit down.

“That is fine,” Mr. Inwood offered her a polite smile. 

Louise then said, “I wanted to ask you about two articles that you had written for the local newspaper ‘Towns news’ when you were still living in Habsburg.” She unrolled the four newspapers that she had borrowed from the library. “The ink has faded in the column, so I brought the previous day’s published newspaper before it, hoping it might help you remember what you had written in here,” her finger pointed at the blank column.

The man nodded his head and then looked at the articles that he had written in June and July, three years back. With patience, Louise watched the man read them one after another. 

“Hm,” Mr. Inwood hummed in thought, and he then shook his head. “I don’t think I remember it, milady.” Louise’s hands that she had tightly been holding loosened. Pursing her lips, she asked, 

“It doesn’t bring any memories?” She had come this far, hoping he would give her something. Anything.

“Unfortunately, no,” Mr. Inwood gave her an apologetic look. “I have been writing so much for many years that it is hard to remember it.”

But everybody remembered gossip better than anything else, thought Louise in her mind. 

As if remembering something, she asked, “Was it something to do with the Reed’s family?” Every detail that had been erased or seemed to have been forgotten by people somehow entwined and connected with Reed’s family.

“The Reed’s. I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” murmured Mr. Inwood. He picked up the newspaper that had his article in June. He said, “I remember the family. The most renowned family of Habsburg, who moved from Warlington. Because of the news that had spread about Mr. Reed’s wives, who had passed away one after another.” 

“Ah, yes. Now I remember what it was about. I cannot believe it slipped out of my mind,” said Mr. Inwood, shaking his head. He then looked at Louise and said, “The article I wrote was about Mr. Graham Reed’s fourth wedding.”