Myths Reawakened

“As far as I know, Lady Marina isn’t Mr. Bart’s first wife. She’s about the same age as Mr. Bart’s daughter. Is there a story behind it?”

“She hired a detective, and the eldest son also hired one. They both suspect Mr. Bart was murdered, and each thinks the other did it. Is that right?”

“Olga, who do you think is more suspicious?”

On the way to the study, Wayne asked questions related to the case, trying to collect clues from the maid. She didn’t disappoint, recounting a tale of complex feuds within the wealthy family. As for who was more suspicious, that wasn’t something a maid would know. According to her, everyone was a suspect, but none was particularly suspicious.

He sorted through the relationships: the deceased, Myron Bart, lost his first wife ten years ago. After fooling around for about eight years without settling down, he found an honest model for his second marriage.

Marina, a professional model, quit her work during her prime to marry an honest, wealthy businessman and become a socialite.

The eldest son was Hayden, a typical rich playboy who had a terrible relationship with his father and spent years in Londan. After his father’s death, he stayed home and wouldn’t leave.

The second son Stuart was a failed athlete and third-rate soccer player who spent years away from home. After his father’s death, he too stayed at home and refused to leave.

The third child, the eldest daughter Heidi, was the elite among the children. She had a successful career at the family company and got along well with her stepmother. After her father’s death, she stepped up and shouldered the mantle of leading the company.

“It’s much more complicated than the Lando family, but I’m not surprised at all. Have I read too many novels about rich people’s family feuds?”

Wayne followed the maid’s guidance to the study. It was positioned right above the cliff, and the window opened to waves crashing against dark rocks below. The outer wall was sheer with no footholds.

The maid recounted what happened. It was the same old story: middle of the night, when no one was around, the man took his life in a locked room, and everyone had an alibi.

A month had passed since the incident, so no matter how good Wayne’s nose was, he couldn’t smell anything. Marina’s commission seemed pointless. Even if it was murder, all the evidence would’ve been destroyed. It was too late to carry out an investigation now.

Then perhaps the mistress and the eldest son were accomplices having a secret affair. To prevent the eldest daughter from inheriting the entire estate, they conspired to kill their husband/father. Then each hired detectives to pretend they had a clear conscience.

It wasn’t a baseless speculation. Mrs. Marina had been too cold earlier. When he inquired about the case, she had her maid talk to him and showed no intention of helping with the investigation.

“Detective, have you made any discoveries?”

A blond man entered the study. He was around thirty and had handsome facial features. While he looked young, he had a mature presence, and his brooding brows contrasted with the confidence his nose projected. He was a natural amalgamation of contradictions.

Wayne sized him up, surprised that there was such a thing as a universal heartthrob. His looks and temperament could charm women of all ages. Had this blond man been on the cruise ship, the role of the third male lead wouldn’t have gone to Wayne.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Kael Poirot from Londan.”

“Wayne.”

“I heard that you’re also from Londan. How interesting. The White Glove Society rarely sends invitations to two detectives simultaneously, especially not sending out another invitation a few days after the first one. It’s quite hurtful, isn’t it?”

The barbs showed his competitive spirit. Wayne felt resigned. His situation was complicated. He was arranged by a certain someone to take on the case at the last minute, not because the White Glove Society considered him more competent.

The two of them shook hands. Kael examined him curiously and suggested, “How about it, Wayne? Want a drink? I’ve gathered some intelligence that may be useful to you.”

“Will that be alright? You’ve worked hard to collect information, and you’re just going to tell me?”

“It’s fine. As things stand, no one cares whether Mr. Bart’s death was suicide or murder besides the two of us.”

...Then you must have found quite a lot in your investigation!

Wayne considered for a moment and agreed.

***

A black sedan left the estate and arrived at a bar in Crescent Bay. Kael asked for a beer while Wayne got juice. As Wayne had expected, Kael’s face was devastatingly attractive, drawing admiring glances from many ladies in the bar.

Kael raised an eyebrow at Wayne. He was quite easygoing, sending flirtatious looks to the surrounding ladies and soon hooked up with a rather hefty... escort.

Wayne glanced at her with a deadpan look. She had a big mouth, a flat nose, a face full of freckles, a bulky body, and strong arms. By any measure, the features didn’t conform to the mainstream standards for beauty.

Buddy, you’ve got an interesting taste. Are you severely nearsighted, or did you leave your glasses at the crime scene?

“Kael, is that lady related to the case?”

Wayne felt it necessary to ask for clarification. Maybe the famous detective was doing this intentionally to gather intelligence, and his definition of beauty was perfectly normal.

“No, she’s got nothing to do with the case. I just want to investigate her body.” Kael waggled his eyebrows. Noting Wayne’s stunned expression, he explained, “This is the charm of street food. It feels dirty, but you can’t help craving it. I call it human nature. Humans crave the thrill of breaking taboos.”

What a roundabout way to talk about prostitution.

Wayne couldn’t find the words to comment on his behavior. The juice lost its appeal when he saw Kael and the escort making eyes, clearly about to head to some alley for an in-depth conversation.

He covered his face and said from the bottom of his heart, “I’m not talking about her profession, Kael, but her appearance. You deserve better.”

“Your definition of beauty is too mainstream, Wayne. If you cast aside the beauty standards the society imposes on the masses, you’ll find the lady rather excellent,” Kael argued. “We’re detectives adept at discovery. Try it. Look at that lady from a different angle, and you’ll find that she’s a work of art.”

(눈_눈)

Sorry, I’m too uneducated to appreciate art!

He didn’t usually attack someone’s taste since everyone had their preferences, but if the other person attacked his taste first, then he had to fight back.

The moment he opened his mouth, though, he swallowed the response he had formulated. Yes, from a different angle, he found Kael to be absolutely wonderful! He was handsome, but didn’t like beautiful women, the exact kind of buddy he needed!

“Kael, if you need to do it, I don’t mind waiting ten minutes.”

“Good, I’ll be back in five.”

***

Seven minutes later, Kael returned to his seat refreshed and asked for three glasses of milk with trembling hands. Wayne was impressed. Reality wasn’t a game. One couldn’t just press F to enter the tank. To be run over repeatedly by a tank and live to tell the tale required a robust physique.

“How do you feel? Do you need a break?”

Wayne turned off his sensitive sense of smell. He had nothing but respect for a true warrior.

Persevere! Don’t let the mainstream convert you!

“No need. Let’s... talk about the case. I’ll... tell you the clues I have.”

“But you keep panting. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No-no problem.” Kael gulped down a glass of milk. “We arrived too late to find any useful clues in the study, and even the deceased’s body has been cremated, the ashes scattered into the sea. To crack this case, we can only start from their relationships and analyze the murderer’s motive...”

Kael hadn’t found evidence, but his detective instincts told him that the suicide wasn’t what it appeared to be, and digging deeper would yield unexpected findings.

“The deceased, Myron Bart, inherited the family business thirty years ago through brutal methods. To obtain the entire estate, he took down his two brothers...”

Kael explained the deceased’s history of securing the family fortune through violence.

“He hired contract killers to eliminate his two brothers and often bragged about it in public. He said that his brothers yearned for self-destruction but didn’t have the money to do so, so he helped fund their release.”

Wayne listened in shock. He learned something new today. He prayed that Auston hadn’t heard such outrageous bragging, or he’d surely think Wayne also yearned for self-destruction.

“The deceased was arrogant enough to constantly bring up the story because of a lack of evidence. Without evidence, truth is nothing but a tall tale.”

Kael had more or less stopped panting. “Mrs. Bart’s background is quite interesting. She might be the deceased’s niece, only marrying him for revenge.”

The bombshell of a revelation compelled Wayne to sip his juice to cool himself down.

“The family’s old grudges could fill several novels. Everyone has a motive, including the mistress, the young masters, and the young lady. They could all be the culprit. The maid in the study is no exception.”

Kael lowered his voice and added, “One night, I saw her walking toward the study with a lamp and secretly followed her. She might have noticed me, so she passed the study and left. When I asked her the next day, she claimed sleepwalking.”

“She also has a strange personality. You should pay attention to her.”

“Besides the family, the deceased had also made numerous enemies. We can’t rule out the possibility that someone hired a professional killer...”

Finally, he looked at Wayne’s eyes and asked, “Also, do you know about magic?”

Wayne calmly nodded. Kael gave him a slight smile and said, “With magic, no room is locked, and the fact that the study borders the cliff doesn’t mean that there’s no way to infiltrate it.”

“The way you put it, we have no leads.” Wayne frowned. “The case is impossible to investigate.”

“No, it’s not impossible.” Kael lowered his voice again, his lips curling into a cryptic smile. “The man you’re talking to now happens to be a mage.”

Wayne was surprised. Forgive his poor eyesight. He hadn’t noticed.

“Using magic to solve cases is like using magic to commit crimes. It’s something I personally reject. I prefer smart criminals who pull off artful murders with impressive tricks that seem like magic.”

Kael sounded appreciative. Wayne rolled his eyes. This was a friend he shouldn’t make. He had dangerous ideas and could turn to the dark side any day.

“I know an elegant female mage in Londan, a follower of the Church of Nature. She gave me a magical item. I plan to catch a member of the family alone and use it. Please provide me with an alibi.”

An elegant female mage from the Church of Nature and a magical item. The keywords made him think of Silvia and Veronica, but given Kael’s definition of beauty, he wouldn’t be calling Silvia or Veronica elegant.

“How about it? You want to know who the killer is, don’t you?”

Kael was confident. Wayne had gone straight to the study to investigate upon arriving at the estate, not resting for a moment. He had to be a detective with an active curiosity like himself, unable to resist the temptation of truth.

And true, Wayne didn’t plan to refuse. Embarrassingly, he also had two bottles of magical items. They were Veronica’s rewards to him for writing his diary. She got what she paid for, and neither took advantage of the other.

“Who are you planning to target tonight, Kael?”

“The maid. Her sleepwalking is too suspicious. Even if she’s not the killer, she has to be hiding something.”

***

Came night, the two detectives returned to the estate. Just as Kael had said, no one cared how Mr. Bart died, and no one urged them to solve the case quickly. They were merely tools for the family to prove their innocence.

The estate was unusually quiet at night. Wayne and Kael walked through the empty corridor. The latter took out a bottle of mushrooms and asked Wayne if he wanted a taste; Wayne ignored him, quickly pressing himself against the corner when he sensed someone approaching.

At the far end of the corridor, Olga, the maid, approached with a lamp. The light illuminated her white nightgown and pale face, making her look like a ghost floating forward without touching the ground.

|_・)

|_・)

“How’s that? Pretty scary, right? I almost got scared to death the first night,” Kael whispered. “Ever since I discovered her nighttime stroll, I realized that she appears in the corridors every night. There are too many suspicious things about her.”

“Is it possible that she really does sleepwalk?”

“Let’s find out.” Kael walked out of the corner and strode up to Olga with the bottle of mushrooms.

Olga’s eyes were wide as saucers, but she didn’t seem to see Kael at all, and she showed no resistance when he fed her the fungi. After that, she stopped walking and stood still. When Wayne went up to wave his hand at her, she slowly turned to him.

“Did you kill Mr. Bart?”

The maid shook her head.

“Did the mistress kill Mr. Bart?”

She shook her head again.

“Then who is the killer? Who killed Mr. Bart?”

Instead of shaking her head, the maid gave an unexpected answer: “Bart isn’t dead. He’s still in this house.”

Her face was pale, and her voice hoarse and old, her widened eyes making her look incredibly eerie. She didn’t act like the poor souls Wayne had seen suffering from fungi-induced hallucinations. In the dead of night, he had to wonder if the maid was a ghost.

A slap would tell. But instead, he pinched her cheek. It was cold, but not a corpse, and definitely not a ghost.

“Hey, don’t go too far. We’re detectives, not perverts. And... she’s way too ugly.” Kael stopped his harassment.

Wayne rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please, Olga’s just flat, not ugly.”

“Oho, you’re not denying the pervert part!”

Wayne was speechless. Kael then took over the questioning: “Where is Mr. Bart? Take us to find him.”

“I don’t know. Everyone’s looking for him. The mistress, the young masters, the young lady, and I have been looking for him for a month and failed to find him.” After Olga finished speaking, she walked around Wayne and Kael and continued her aimless stroll.

“Then what about Mr. Bart’s body?” Kael pressed. “I saw the police files. He’s absolutely dead.”

“The body was Bart’s double, who served him for many years. Outsiders didn’t know...”

“How would a maid like you know so much?” Kael asked.

“I’m not a maid.” Olga stopped to look at Kael, speaking in a cool tone, “I’m his first wife, Dana, whom he killed ten years ago.”

“...” x2

Holy!

Startled, Kael jumped behind Wayne and pulled out a cross necklace from under his collar, chanting ‘evil spirits begone’.

“And you call yourself a mage? Who are you trying to fool? You can’t even fool a ghost!”

Wayne shook his head and stepped forward with his fingers pressed together, knocking Olga out with a hand chop.

“See? This is how a real mage exorcises ghosts.”