Chapter 31: Chapter 31 – Don´t leave

Sean's words, regarding the number of people who would be habiting Fairview during the following days, couldn´t have been more exact. Although there were already many who made up the service, with the staff that came in the company of their masters, the number increased even more. Being that on that first night they spent in the mansion, at dinner time, the totality of diners seated at two long tables in the service dining room narrowly exceeded fifty individuals.

Among cooks, maids, gardeners, and so on, this was a group as numerous as it was picturesque. Perhaps when there were no guests at Fairview, the meals served there were a bit more monotonous, with people keeping silence and concentrating on the dishes in front of them. But now, with so many new faces at the table, Howard Ramsey's butler was having trouble keeping order. Even the housekeeper had already given up. Letting everyone speak what they wanted, without filters of any kind.

The fact that there was no restriction on what could or couldn´t be said within the service wing was good for Oscar. It was the first time he had sat at a table with so many people, and it was also the first time he had waited patiently for a murder to be committed. So, it had been a while since he entered observation mode. Participating little in the conversations, but trying to listen to everything that he believed might be relevant to the resolution of a crime yet to be committed.

And yes, waiting and watching patiently how events would unfold was just what Oscar was doing. He had no intention to stop the crime. Perhaps someone else would be willing to stop such a heinous act, saving a stranger, but he had not come to the novel to play the Good Samaritan.

He wanted to know, with the same certainty that Dianne did not give him when she wrote it, who the murderer was. Not to confront him or to obtain justice, all of that didn't give a shit. He wanted to know because he felt there was something murky in that arc, as if the writer had focused her efforts on the relationship of the protagonists and, with it, had forgotten to make the criminal plot plausible.

After all, if he had to review what he remembered from those chapters, Oscar would say that it was a twenty percent badly narrated mystery, a ten that contained a hasty, cliché and not very credible resolution, and the remaining seventy, it had to be about Madeleine being scared —or pretending to be— and getting close to Patrick in the process.

Anyway, it was unfortunate. Dianne left more loose ends there than he did when he tried to write his first detective story, eleven years ago.

Now, returning to the banquet in front of him, there were several things to mention regarding the people who dined with him. Oscar took a low-key seat near the back of one of the tables, on the right hand side and next to other diners who were also strangers to Fairview. The masters had already eaten and, now that the service was no longer required, they were taking advantage.

Weiss, the butler, presided over the table where Oscar was sitting. And even though he was too far away to engage in conversation, he was interested in learning more about this character. In the original novel, however worn out the plot, it was the butler who was blamed for the crime, long before it was confirmed that the villain also had murderous intentions. The reason? There wasn't. Or well, there was no good reason, rather. The writer simply branded him a disturbed psychopath, associating his sad past with a dark and criminal plot.

In truth, it seemed like Dianne was one of those who used the same formula for most of her characters.

"Miss Bauer ordered one of those foreign-named infusions again," one of the younger maids was commenting, a couple of seats away from Oscar. “I told her we didn't have that here, but she insisted a lot. She even got mad! Then she asked for something else, this time in Christian, and when I told her that we did have that, she got even more upset because she said that was what she was asking for since the beginning.”

"She always does the same thing," said another woman. “What will cost you to call things by its name? Nobody here knows French or German”

"Whatever she asks, give it to her," the person who must have been the housekeeper instructed, "as stupid as it may seem. And if you don't understand something, don't reply. Come directly to me to consult ​​and I´ll tell you what to do. Capricious as she may seem, Miss Bauer is well liked by the gentlemen and we shouldn´t make her upset.”

"Yes, appreciated above all by the man," laughed one of the boys in front of Oscar, earning a poke from his partner.

Faced with such a statement, the prudent thing to do would be to shut up or change the subject, but in every house there should be an idiot who ignored the environment and went ahead with uncomfortable questions.

"And how is that?" Kenneth asked, stepping forward to better hear the gossip.

Seeing they gave him wings to continue, the individual who previously spoke too much proceeded to explain:

"It turns out that this Bauer is the only daughter of a friend, now deceased, of my employer. She is the director of a school in Bristol or, well, the place she inherited from her parents but the truth is that she doesn´t have much interest in it and she´s always delegating responsibilities. But that's beside the point! The thing is, apart from school, Ms. Bauer also inherited providers. Hence she and Mr. Ramsey know each other well”

"And that's why she came to the hunting," another person pointed out, "to have an excuse to stay with the master for a few days. Because she doesn't hunt, obviously.”

"Yes, yes, aside from Mrs. Ramsey and they don't get along. Can you imagine traveling a hundred miles to go to a house where you are not entirely welcome? I mean, because Ms. Bauer won´t go hunting with the men, she at most will stay in the gardens around the mansion, watching them from afar. So even though she came to this, she´s going to spend as much or more time with Mrs. Ramsey than with her husband. Who would be able to make such a sacrifice if not...?”

The boy stopped there, without finishing his question, noticing the disapproving look that some of the more veteran employees gave him.

"Just so you know," said another young woman, who seemed to work for Bauer, "my employer is extremely kind. It is likely that it was Mr. Ramsey who invited her out of engagement, as her father used to attend these types of events when he was still in good health. And the young lady, for not making him look bad, accepted for complying”

That being said, the issue died. Perhaps because, although no one believed in the words of that maiden, they didn´t dare to contradict her and cause an unnecessary ruckus.

"The ones who do have a good time are the Foleys," said another man, trying to rekindle the conversation, "whose factories in the capital seem to be booming, attracting customers with astonishing ease."

"And so it is," said someone who worked for the aforementioned, "although the masters miss coming to the country. They've barely had time to get close to Rochester in recent months, so being invited here has been like a blessing. The perfect excuse to leave London!”

"I can imagine, I also grew up in a village and having to move to the city, even having visited it often in the past, is too big a change. Once in a while, one should be able to go back…” Turning to a girl who proceeded awkwardly to sit next to her he exclaimed. “Emma, ​​be a little careful! If I were to sit an inch to the left, you would have hurt yourself!”

This Emma apologized; having appeared without warning and, without saying a word, while the other continued speaking, she had almost taken a slap. That was the disadvantage of people who gestured a lot when talking and, like now, she didn´t notice that someone stealthy had appeared at her side.

"Where have you been, dear?" Asked another of the older maids. “Do the masters need anything?”

“Oh no. It's just that, after tending to Mrs. Ramsey, I tripped over a vase and… Well, it didn't break, I picked it up before that happened. But the water spilled on my uniform and I had to go change.”

After a few laughs from some and a warning from those who dealt with her more often, to be more careful in the future, they left the young woman alone. It gave the impression, from the tone in which they spoke to her and the little importance they gave to the fact she made such a mistake, that those who worked in the service of the Ramseys were already used to that shy and awkward attitude of hers.

"Speaking of people having a good time, no matter where they are… How come Mr. Patterson came alone?"

That question addressed to the servants of the aforementioned distracted, for a moment, Oscar. Busy as he had been analyzing the last of the diners at that table.

"I thought he would come with one of his female friends."

“No, no, the master has been single and without commitments for more than half a year. He's not even seeing anybody!”

"Well, let him join Miss Bauer and we'll have some peace of mind!"

Those who heard this, since they knew both their personalities well, laughed. Oscar, who was also familiar with both of them from having read the book, knew that if they ended up together, not only would his tranquility not cease but that it would become a whole circus. In the novel, they were both inveterate bachelors. One by choice, the other because he had no other choice.

In any case, if Oscar paid special attention when the name of Patterson was mentioned, it was not because of his love affairs or because of the medium success that he may or may not have in his business. No. If he had been slightly startled by hearing his name it was because, he remembered well, he was the murder victim.

"It's impossible for him to get together with Bauer, I think he doesn´t even like her," murmured someone close enough to Oscar to be heard.

"In fact, he was the one who last year tried to convince Mr. Ramsey to leave her off the guest list."

Someone must have asked why, but the housekeeper asked for silence again. It was okay if you talked a little about the lords. It was even inevitable that the conversation would go in those directions when there were so many employees gathered. But if there was something that could not be allowed, it was speculation. And a large part of what the men and women heard through the corridors and rooms had been created by themselves by connecting actions or individual phrases, trying to make sense of them, without knowing well what was going through their minds. those gentlemen they served.

Oscar knew that he shouldn´t believe everything he heard there to be true, although he did think the best source of knowledge in a criminal case like that was in the service wing.

If he had dined with the Ramseys and their guests, he wouldn´t have been able to verify most of the information he already had. And the thing is that their masters wouldn´t have talked so much during the meal, much less would they have started to investigate the lives of others, creating dialogues and uncomfortable situations. In that sense, servants were far more shameless when alone.

Now, back to the crime, the range of suspects was reduced considerably. Since he knew when, where, and how the murder would be committed, he also had a pretty good idea of ​​which people would have no alibi at the time. Ergo, wouldn't it be easier to focus his efforts on trying to decipher these characters and ignore the rest? It might sound a bit reckless, thinking about it again, but if you considered that in the next few days he would run into more than a hundred people on the Fairview grounds, the truth is that you´d feel welcome to remove a few dozen from the list of suspects.

Regarding Lionel Patterson, from the outset little could be said about him. He had studied alongside Howard Ramsey, as they were childhood friends. He no longer had any family around Redhill, only a few distant relatives in London. City in which he, by the way, worked leading a carpentry shop. Perhaps of all the guests who had come to Fairview to stay, he was the humblest in material possessions. And, also, the one most liked by his old friend.

Patterson wasn´t a sullen type, nor was he the kind to cause conflict wherever he went. He was talkative and outgoing, but not to the point of being annoying. Despite the fact that, already in the original novel, he had a reputation for being unable to settle down and immerse in a stable relationship, he was the type of person who´s appreciated by everyone. Even for those with whom he once parted on bad terms.

In summary; Patterson had no enemies, and given his jovial nature, it was also unlikely he would come to hate anyone. But the truth is that he would die the next day and, for this, Oscar only had a half-cooked explanation prepared by an author of dubious quality.

"Ah, what time is it? I want to go to the living room!” Kenneth murmured as soon as they finished dinner.

The only reason he had kept his voice to a minimum, making sure that only Oscar and a couple of other individuals standing next to him heard him, was because entering that room should be prohibited. And he didn´t want to earn the reprimands of Ramsey's most faithful servants.

"The masters must still be there, you can't go," Mallory took care to verify, sparing Oscar a sarcastic phrase or two. “When they go to bed, if you want to go wreak havoc, go ahead. But I hope nobody catches you.”

There were employees who had to carry out certain tasks in that wing of the mansion and, therefore, they could walk there with relative freedom. But then there were others, like Kenneth, whose tasks were reduced to field activities and, unless it was for a very specific matter, they weren´t allowed to set foot in certain rooms.

"Mallory, don't you want to change jobs with me? Even if it's just for one night! I'll be Madeleine's maid and you can uh… I don't know, Oscar, what are we doing here? Well, it doesn't matter. The thing is, let me be a maid for a little while. I want to see if the first floor rooms are as majestic as Sean says!”

"Obviously I'll leave you, as tired as it is to attend to her! It´ll be good for me to get a break, so come with me to my room and I'll lend you the spare dress I have. Later, when the lady calls, you will go to attend her”

“Really?” Kenneth stood up, smiling with the illusion of a child who had just been given a new toy.

“Of course not! Do you think I'm going to put my job in jeopardy because of a whim of yours?”

Oscar laughed as the world fell on Kenneth. He had seriously believed in human goodness for an instant…! How could he have ended up in this?

Little by little, the two tables were emptied. The kitchen employees busied themselves with picking up the dishes and cleaning, dismissing any suggestion of help from other people. Most of the servants retired to their rooms or chatted, either in the hallways or at the door leading to the garden, if they wanted to smoke something while exchanging anecdotes with friends they hadn´t seen in a long time. Almost no one went to sleep. They could not.

It was still early and the masters remained in their own drawing room, drinking, chatting, or playing cards. Oscar could only imagine it because, like Kenneth, he was not allowed to go to that part of the house.

As they could still be required, either to prepare their beds or to clean up what they had made dirty, the service would not go to bed late either. Or, to be precise, those who were in charge of cleaning or were tasked with seeing that a particular guest was well cared for, had to be available. The others, who would no longer be required until the following morning, were allowed to leave.

Since Oscar didn´t want company, he took advantage of the fact that Kenneth was still entertained, trying to convince Mallory to at least steal an ashtray and bring it to him as a souvenir, to leave the room without being noticed.

In the original novel, the service wing had not been described in detail. Therefore, Oscar thought he could use his free time to walk those corridors and verify that, indeed, the only possible exit was the door located in the kitchens.

There were no windows in the corridors or in the rooms used as storage, only from the rooms you could see the outside. And anyway, there was no way to open the crystals wide enough for an adult to fit through.

Having verified the escape routes (either for a murderer to flee or to dispose of some compromising evidence by temporarily throwing it into the bushes next to the building) existed and were easily accessible, that the murder weapon was in its place and that, in addition, the most important characters for this arc was behaving as in the text had been said, Oscar took care of patrolling that plant while he continued thinking.

According to Dianne, this wasn´t a premeditated crime. Her victim was murdered in broad daylight, with a poker that hit the back of his neck, knocking. But Oscar had doubts about it; he had seen people as efficient and like Weiss who, far from becoming serial killers, were kind to everyone, helped others when they could, and had successful careers.

So much he was thinking about his things, about how he could observe everything from the perspective of the spectator that he always was and without getting fully into the trouble, that he didn´t realize that he had long passed the limits of the property. Moving away from the service area, without realizing, he had walked to the south wing of the mansion. From the corridor where he stopped when he noticed his mistake, even he could perceive the voices coming from the room.

Oscar did not want, nor did it suit him, to spy. So he decided to speed up his pace, going back the way he had come, before someone realized he had gone to another inappropriate place.

Of course, with his usual bad luck, he was destined to be discovered.

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"Oscar?"

And within the bad, the truth is that he could have done much worse.

"You didn't tell me you were coming."

Albert, who had appeared from another side of the corridor that led to the other end of the property, said this as if it had been an affront to his person not to inform him, although it was not that he was particularly annoyed at having found him there.

"And I wasn't going to come, they practically ambushed me at the last second," Oscar confessed; if this time he was startled, it was because he was called from behind before he had a chance to see who was coming but, having recognized the voice a second later, the possible panic attack could be avoided. “Seems that someone must have thought that I am passionate about collecting dead birds in the mountains, hence they chose me, over the other twenty or thirty candidates who were to come”

From his tone, one could tell that he was being sarcastic. Making a joke that, had it not been for the fact that he already had some confidence in the villain, he wouldn´t have dared to perform.

"For whatever reason, I'm glad you came," Albert said, smiling; It really seemed that this encounter had saved him from something terrible. “I shouldn't have listened to my father, I should have declined the invitation, rude as it might sound. The evening is being so boring that I had to pretend I needed to use the restroom to let me sneak away for a while”

"Bored, you say? From here you can listen to music and revelry”

"I know, and don't think it's something that bothers me." Albert must have paused here to look out into the living room, making sure no one was near the door who could hear him. “But if there is music, someone will want to dance. And if there is revelry, I will have to force myself to enter a conversation in which I have little interest.”

"I understand, what you prefer is a party without a party," laughed Oscar.

It was true that some had a concept of ‘boring’ very different from others.

"I-it's not that either," the other protested, perhaps embarrassed by something he had said. “I like music, what bothers me is that they insist that I take advantage of it to dance. And I enjoy a good conversation… As long as it's one-on-one and I don't have to yell. In these evenings, when too many people accumulate or someone starts to play, it is difficult for one to be heard over the instruments and the general hubbub”

"Well, there I agree. I don't like it when crowds get too concentrated and rampage. Although, in that sense, you are lucky, right? They told me there weren't that many guests”

“For now. This is to be a training for things to come.”

“What will come?”

"Tomorrow, after the hunt, this will be crowded. Mr. Ramsey has invited his friends from town or, well, all the people who will participate in this. They´ll stay to eat and it is likely that we won´t throw them out of here until after tea time, so you can imagine the atmosphere that will be there”

Yes, Oscar could imagine it well. With all those men coming from the nearby villages, Fairview would be filled with armed men, drinking and filling the house with tobacco smoke and conversations made at a volume difficult for someone not used to bear. Tonight's evening would be like a vacation compared to what awaited Albert the next day.

Oscar didn't realize it until he mentioned it, because in the novel the crime was committed during Saturday's hunt. So, having been so, there was never a chance that the celebration that was to follow would take place.

"Speaking of the hunt, do you plan to participate?"

"That's what I've told everyone, I've even had to borrow my father's rifle ... By force, because they ambushed me too. Now, between you and me, I wasn't going to use it. Tomorrow I have to make an excuse that I have a migraine, or something like that, and I will stay inside the house until everything is over”

“That would also serve to get rid of having to socialize with all those people at once, you could come over to say hello and retire immediately to your bedroom”

"Yes, yes, it's a one-size-fits-all plan, right? My father will be angry when he finds out that I backed down at the last minute, but I´ll see to it that this does not cause him any problem with these people. Anyway, even if he wasn't going hunting, he was planning to buy the Ramseys a gift to thank them for taking the time to invite us”

"I was going to tell you… Couldn't you make an exception and come on the hunt?" Being afraid it would have sounded impertinent to question a decision already made by the villain like that, he added. “Ah, I don't mean to hunt if you don't want to. I thought maybe you could stay on the field to watch, while the rest of the people prepare to shoot into the air. I´ve heard that it can be done”

It should not be a pleasant sight for someone who didn´t like to see animals die to watch while the hunters got ready to do their thing. So Oscar patiently waited for Albert to think about it, without pressing him for an immediate answer.

“Do you want me to go?”

‘Don't give me the bother of deciding!’ Oscar thought in his agony, after a full minute of silence.

"I'm not going to say it wouldn't help me to have a friendly face in the audience," Oscar said slowly. “But it´s not a plan that you feel uncomfortable about it, hence this is only a suggestion. If you don't want to come, nothing happens either. I guess these days we'll see each other, anyway, around the mansion grounds”

"If you want me to go, I'll go," Albert said, perhaps too quickly. “I don't like the idea of ​​hunting, and I'm not fond of watching while others do it, but I guess nothing will happen for a couple of days”

Oscar was satisfied with this arrangement. If he had improvised, asking Albert to come to the hillside in the morning, was because the crime had been committed inside the house around those hours. And Oscar had a theory that the villain was not a murderer. Not in this case, at least. So this way he could cross it off his suspect list. If Albert wasn't at the scene of the crime, they couldn't blame him later on either.

Although, he wasn't sure yet, but from the way Albert was looking at him, it seemed to Oscar that his motivation had been misunderstood.

"Now that this is decided," the villain continued, "did you miss something on this floor?"

"No, I must have gotten the wrong way, in fact it´d be better if I left before someone came to yell at me."

"You could also stay. You couldn't visit more than the service wing, right? I could give you a tour of this plant; The Ramseys have good taste in decoration, and you don't often get a chance to stroll through buildings as old as this one”

"Is this an excuse to guide me around the mansion or to save you from having to return to the living room? Both, maybe? Ah never mind. But I don't know if I should accept, the masters may not care much, but surely someone from the service will complain to me.”

"I don't think anyone will claim anything from you if you come with me, I can talk to them beforehand if necessary. Although, if you don't feel like it today...”

"I'll go," Oscar said quickly. “The alternative is to go back to my room and endure a monologue from my partner until he dies or I kill him, so it is obvious that I prefer to accompany you.”

And Oscar was going to go, he was not bluffing, nor did he possess ulterior motives. He wanted to spend some time away from all those servants he had been cohabiting with for the past three hours and, incidentally, refrain from playing Sherlock Holmes for a few minutes. For once, he would have liked to take a walk around a property in the company of a friend, without having to be careful not to say anything inappropriate or be forced to observe every detail out of fear that something might have once been overlooked once committed the crime.

However, he failed to do so. Before the two of them could decide which direction to take, to avoid the other guests and servants as much as possible, Madeleine appeared on the scene.

She made one of her grandiose entries, calling out Oscar, gesticulating too much and approaching him with all the familiarity in the world. She must be in a good mood, because when she got to where he was standing, she even put an arm around his shoulders as she asked:

“You here? Servants shouldn't be able to come up to this wing without being called! But of course, you were never much to follow the rules” After noting this, the protagonist must have realized that there was a third person in the corridor, because she looked up to say, “Ah, it's you! Excuse me, but I'd like to speak to Oscar alone. Do you mind?”

Albert didn´t protest, nor did he refuse. With all the politeness in the world, he excused himself and proceeded to return to the living-room. Of course, if he had been the most relaxed a few minutes ago, even smiling, now his expression had turned gloomy again. As if someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water at his head, bringing him back to reality.

"Couldn't you have waited?" Oscar asked, annoyed, as soon as he was alone with the protagonist. “I was busy!”

 "Busy? With Albert Northrop? Don´t make me laugh!” And indeed Madeleine laughed. “With how strict that man is, I sure have just saved you from a scolding. But no, don't thank me, I gladly did it.”

"Have you been drinking?"

“Just a little. Why? Did you want me to invite you?

"I'm going to my room."

“No wait! If I have approached you it has not been to free you from the clutches of that Northrop, nor to offer you a drink or two (I don't think they would let me offer them, anyway). No, I just wanted to tell you that I brought what you asked for.”

It took Oscar a few seconds to figure out what she was referring to: days ago, when they were negotiating about her necklace, he instructed her to bring a ring when they came to Fairview. To be precise, the ring should not be worn, but kept in her jewelry box, hiding its existence until the time was right. And when was the right time or why take these precautions? That was something Oscar said he would explain once the deal was done and he got the necklace and the expert's report from her.

Now, since those two things were worth nothing, the deal had gone awry. But of course, no one had told Madeleine the mission would have to be aborted. From knowing, she didn't even know that her pendant had been returned to her.

Oscar sighed. It would be a pain to have to explain everything now, and it would be an even greater nuisance if she was to throw a tantrum in the middle of the hall.

"You say you have the ring," he finally murmured.

"Yes, it's in my room! Do you want me to go get it?”

"No, now it won't be necessary."

On second thought, what was wrong with telling Madeleine about the plan? He couldn´t get out of it losing from there because, as he agreed with her, it was an idea that he did not need to be a part of. Madeleine could carry it out alone. Therefore, he decided to explain:

“With people like Patrick, dialogue is useless. Telling him that you are the best match for him, that you´ll make sure to make him happy and all that nonsense, you won´t achieve anything.”

“But I can also tell him that with me he will have no problem conceiving many sons. That must be every man's dream!”

"And since you can't talk, the best thing is to do things by force," Oscar continued, ignoring the distasteful comment. “How? No, don't try to seduce him. If you are alone it would not work and, if you are accompanied, it would be violent and it´d also give you a bad..., a worse reputation. So here the ring comes in!”

"I don't understand, what do you want me to do with it? It's just an old ring that belonged to my grandmother, it's not even worth that much.”

"Simple, pretend you find it on some food plate, as if Patrick had put it there. Make a fuss, thank him, as if he had been the one who left that where you put it to ask for marriage. Believe me, he will freak out first, and then his first impulse will be to deny everything. But he won´t be able to confess that he had nothing to do with it. Not if you find yourself at a table full of guests who know you are a couple. In such a case, no matter how much Patrick denies it, everyone will assume this was a surprise prepared by him, they will rally in congratulations and no one will have a moment to consider there´s something strange.”

"Then Patrick will have no choice but to marry me!"

“Depends.”

"How does it depend? You just said he will have no choice, he´ll be so overwhelmed that this will convince him to take the last step down the aisle!”

“I say that depends, because this will require some social pressure. And that ring can be deceiving once, but more... If someone discovers it was always yours, the plan will fall apart.”

"They won't find out, because I haven't shown it to anyone. And I won't!”

With this realization, Madeleine thanked the help and left even happier towards the living room. She was so excited that she didn't even stop to consider what she would do after the ring pantomime, how she would explain herself to Patrick or what she would do if he asked her to see the ring. She mustn't have been around for little things like that, and Oscar had no intention of giving her more free advice either.

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