Chapter 34: Chapter 34 – The crime

Oscar must have fallen asleep sometime in the early morning, not long after ending his night walk. And, while it was true the suspicious individual from the evening did nothing to him, he felt as if he had. That fucking sore throat hadn't stopped! On the contrary, it seemed that it had increased and, when Oscar woke up, he was forced to drink what was left of the water to try relieve it.

He coughed a little too, though as he spoke he was glad that at least he hadn't lost his voice and didn't sound hoarse. Colds didn´t usually affect his throat so much: Even though it hurt when he spoke and felt like coughing, he knew that would go away in a matter of hours. If he bundled up as he should and tried not to expose himself too much to the wind and rain, the cold that seemed to be beginning to show symptoms of appearing he would die there.

So, trying to overcome his discomfort and the drowsiness caused by his lack of sleep, at dawn he woke up like any other day, trying not to think about what awaited him outside the Fairview grounds. Because, if he thought much about it, he was going to get mad early.

He didn´t expect that, when he had barely finished breakfast, one of the servants would appear running through the door, almost knocking over a maid carrying a tray into the kitchen. This unexpected individual was excited enough that, as soon as he crossed the threshold of the dining room, those who sat closest to the door would all turn to look at him. And, realizing that he was red from the run he had made, even taking a breath, they gave him a moment to calm down before asking what was wrong with him.

That's when he made two announcements, each more shocking than the last.

The first, that the hunt had been suspended. And, the second, that the cause of this had happened was they had just found the lifeless body of Lionel Patterson.

By the time the death was announced, the entire dining room was already listening intently. So there were many people who, upon hearing of the tragic news, released an exclamation of surprise, were horrified at the prospect that a man had died during a few days planned for the enjoyment of the guests, or just remained silent, not knowing what to say or do next. Oscar was of the latter group, although his astonishment was entirely feigned.

He knew Patterson was going to die that weekend, at some point, although it wasn´t expected to happen overnight. If anything, that benefited him in a way. So he wouldn't have to go to the fields another day.

Oscar made sure that his sudden happiness, by making sure of this fact, didn´t show on his face as he continued to eat breakfast, while everyone else in the room was panicking. Not that he had much of an appetite, but he considered it important to eat, knowing that he might have caught something in a time when they were short of medicine. The cold thing and the crazy psychopath who killed with pleasure could wait until after his coffee was finished.

“What happened?” Someone asked, giving voice to the question that everyone wanted to hear.

"It appears Mr. Weiss went to wake him up this morning, and when he called, Mr. Patterson didn't answer. Worried as he was, because no matter how many times he knocked on the door, the other didn´t answer, he decided to open the door and... And there he found him, on his bed! Dead!”

"But how was he dead? Was it a natural death?"

"I couldn't get a good look at it, so I don't know. I only peeked out the door, when Mr. Weiss and one of Patterson's servants were briefly examining the deceased and, from what I could see from afar, the sheets and the gentleman's neck were bloody.”

"Then it was a natural death," said one of the younger servants. “If someone cuts your neck, the natural thing is that you die.”

A wave of protests was heard, given the lack of sensitivity of the boy, but Oscar didn´t bother to turn his head to see how they slapped him or told him to shut up in a bad way.

"Anyway, I have come to notify you by master´s order," continued the one who was chosen as messenger. “Someone has already been dispatched to report to the police, so until they arrive, we are not allowed to leave the property.”

“With ‘the property’ you also include the gardens and stables?”, asked someone who should do most of his work outside the mansion.

"I-I don't know," stammered the other, implying that when he received the order, he didn't think to ask about that nuance. “But I imagine there´ll be no problem if you don´t go very far and are available throughout the morning. Mr. Ramsey has said the police may want to speak to us.”

And that's when the chaos broke out, more than it had already when word of Mr. Patterson's death was known. For some reason that escaped Oscar, the people gathered there began to complain, express their fears out loud and even rebel, saying they would not attend to any uniformed individual who came from a police station. Since, apparently, the fact that someone appeared in his bed with the skull half detached from the rest of the body was, discounting the damage formed, something common.

Or, even if it wasn´t common, it wasn´t so regrettable that the people under Fairview's roof felt a moral obligation to cooperate.

"They won't think someone from the service was the culprit!"

"Of course they think so!" Said one of the veterans in the room. "When similar misfortunes happen, the first thought of is the service. You´ll see! They won't take long to load us with the duck, even if they can't find proof that one of us was in the guest wing at that time, they will!”

"Nowadays, things are no longer done that way, authorities are governed by the law, they have principles," another person put in. “They´ll investigate well before accusing anyone.”

“I tell you that the masters will never be blamed for anything, things don't work that way.”

"Calm down everyone," interrupted another maid, curiously, Oscar thought he remembered that it was the same one who was late for the table the day he arrived at the Ramsey property, "we still don't even know if it was a suicide."

"Suicide? With an open neck?"

"Well, he could have killed himself in another way, couldn't he? Or at least get a little closer to the fireplace, where the rugs didn´t reach. Now to see who can remove those blood stains from the bedding!”

“It's true!” Kenneth exclaimed, even though there was so much noise in the room that only Oscar and some of those sitting next to them heard him. “There´s no longer any consideration with service!”

"Well, what about the master's breakfast?" Asked someone who must have been in charge of the kitchen. “Will it be served or not?”

"You should be ashamed to think of food at a time like this," the person next to him chided.

But that wake-up call was useless, and that question was repeated by several of the kitchen employees, until it reached the ears of the messenger. Who said that, by the way, the ideal would be to serve breakfast to the masters at that precise moment. No delay. Well, although the usual thing was that the service had breakfast first and, half an hour later, the hosts and guests did it, it was convenient this time everything was a little faster. So that when the police arrived, masters were already prepared to speak with them.

After several complaints about ‘should have started from there’ and some more regrets, not because one of the guests had died but because, with this, breakfast was spoiled for most of the staff, the tables were emptied. And there were only about a dozen servants left in them, Oscar and Kenneth included. Since, not having them to go check that their respective masters were well or helping with the preparation of the food or the room, they could refrain from rushing with their own food.

"It´s so terrible everything… What a way to spoil some precious hunting days!" Kenneth muttered, annoyed, when there were already a few empty seats and the dining room began to calm down.

‘I wish they had screwed up sooner’, Oscar thought, but he didn't say anything.

"And you, what do you think of all this? Don't you feel sad? Today it isn't even raining that much, we could be out there, enjoying nature!”

“Are you talking with me?”

Kenneth nodded, and when Oscar looked up he realized there was indeed no one else within range of his partner. Those who remained were at least three chairs away and must have known him by now, because they were all ignoring him.

"I'm not sad, but angry." Seeing Kenneth was about to misrepresent his words, creating a motive himself, added. “But it's not because of the hunt, and it's not because Mr. Patterson has passed away.”

“Then?”

“I'm angry because it seems incredible to me that in such a big house and with so many people they don't have even a miserable medicine to fight a cold.”

"There isn't? That's not normal, are you sure you've asked the right people? There may not be explicit medicines for that, after all, we´re not that far from a town where there´s a doctor and, if the masters get sick, it won't take much for the doctor to come visit them and write them a prescription. But barbiturates should be, at least! You know? I have been told that Mrs. Lewis has a hard time sleeping at night, so she usually goes to bed early, to try to make the most of those hours at night. Do you think it is possible she has finished them? Ah, but what ways of mine! I haven't asked you if you're okay, or did you catch a cold?”

“No, I'm asking around if they have drugs because I'm trying to verify that other people's homes are well equipped in an emergency like today's. Imagine that Patterson had died of some contagious disease and now we were all in danger.”

Oscar said this with such seriousness that Kenneth must have believed it entirety, for his expression indicated so. So Oscar was quick to clear things up, fearing a new wave of absurd questions.

"Obviously I've caught something from being out in the open doing the same work as dogs."

"You´re really just weak," Kenneth pointed out, suddenly looking disappointed that there was no virus that would force them to quarantine the building. “Look, I did the same as you and nothing happened to me. I feel better than ever, actually! It had been weeks since I had such a good night's rest.”

Oscar had no trouble believing that. During the time he was standing, none of his three companions woke up. They all continued snoring peacefully even as the suspicious figure passed their room and was lost in the shadows again.

"Anyway, the point is, there were no medicines of any kind," he concluded. “The girl who answered me said that while they had nothing left that could help against a cold, she could give me some barbiturates to at least relieve the pain and sleep better tonight.”

"And she didn't give them to you because you growled at her, that was to be expected! You have a terrible character when you wake up on the wrong foot.”

"She didn't give them to me because she said they weren't any left either... Which I could also verify by approaching and taking a look at the shelf where they should be. And that must have been a surprise even to her, otherwise she would not only have been surprised that her cupboard was empty, but she wouldn´t have bothered to ask me to accompany her. She would have rejected my request outright, as she did with the medicines.”

"If so, did they steal the barbiturates? Oh! I've heard that if you take too much of it, you can die. What if Mr. Patterson overdosed? Maybe someone poisoned him.”

"If someone poisoned him, why cut his throat afterwards? As someone already mentioned before, that doesn´t stain just a little. And I'm not just talking about the sheets or some very expensive carpet.”

"Maybe... Maybe they drugged him so that by cutting him off he couldn't defend himself or ask for help!"

"And for that, was it necessary to destroy everything in the pantry?"

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Oscar had already thought about the possibility. Taking an envelope of barbiturates and pouring it into Patterson's drink would have been ideal; he would have managed to put him to sleep and wouldn´t have alerted anyone. Well, the disappearance of a single dose would have gone unnoticed. But dragging everything along... What need was there?

"The truth is that you have to be sadistic to use a razor. In other words, if they have already stolen all that amount of medicine, why not use one and save that? And speaking of which, what would they be wearing? Oh, I hope they didn't use any of the knives we use to eat! Can you imagine? Having lunch and not knowing if the cutlery you´re using was passed through the meat of a living human or a dead animal…”

"Kenneth, I remind you that I feel sick."

Oscar said this, synonymous with: ‘I feel bad, so I'm not in the mood to imagine such things,’ but Kenneth shouldn´t have grasped it, because he continued:

"Maybe I should ask around, just in case. It's bad luck to use the same tool someone used to kill! So we must be careful.” After noting this, he must have finally realized there was a strange little glass in front of his partner, with a liquid inside that looked a lot like urine. “What's that?”

“This? Apparently it's my substitute for medicine,” Oscar explained, taking what was left in the tiny container that, at other times, must have been used to drink liquor. “Simple honey with lemon juice. The kitchen employees were kind enough to give it to me when they saw there was nothing else that could help me for my condition. Now, I wish they had been a little less stingy in terms of quantity. But I guess this will do too.”

Kenneth didn't say a word, just stared at him. Then, still perplexed, he inquired:

"How can you drink that after what happened? What if they put something in your drink?”

"Well, that´d be good, isn't it? That's what I've been looking for since I woke up.”

"Don't make fun of these things, someone's dead!"

Does he care now? Oscar wondered. He had heard a string of insensitive comments from so many people in such a short time that, to be honest, what surprised him at this point was that someone was taking a break to think that respect was still owed to the deceased.

Either way, Oscar wasn´t going to follow that line. He would take advantage of his unexpected day off — for, without the hunt, he had little to do — to stay in the house, doing a little research around the service area, but not prying into the lives of those people. He didn´t want to alert the murderer, if this was around and, with his reserved personality, he wouldn´t suddenly began to question strangers.

He wanted to discover a criminal, not become a suspect.

So, as soon as he finished his breakfast, he headed towards the back of the mansion. He wanted to see if the person who was there the night before had left any clues behind. Something that seemed unlikely to him, in any case. Apart from the rain, because from the early hours of that morning there had already been many people who entered the kitchen area and even went outside.

And what about the outside, what about the open door? Despite the announcement of a death, almost certainly a murder, no one had mentioned the possibility that an unknown entity had broken into the property to attack Patterson. Let's see, that was a somewhat far-fetched possibility, considering that one would make better use of the night inside a house like the Ramseys' to steal their valuable possessions. But there must always be an idiot to bring it up.

However, this time that did not happen.

Oscar stopped to check the lock before going out into the garden. It didn't have any scratches on it, so it was obvious it wasn't forced. So, no one unknown had entered Fairview. Well, even if few had keys, those inside often had to know where the keys were kept.

And this assuming that the door had been really forced. Oscar also had his doubts about that. What he was sure was that, in the morning, the door appeared closed. If not, as strict as the rules were in that house, someone would have complained and he would have found out.

Outside, it had stopped raining, since early in the morning you couldn't hear the drops hitting the windowpanes. Even so, both the storm clouds and the puddles on the ground remained. Which implied that a flood had been falling not long ago, and that after a while it would fall again.

Oscar didn't stray too far from the door he'd come out of, he only walked a few feet before stopping to look around.

His theory was that someone had been using the kitchens when, during the early morning hours, it occurred to him to go to the same place. Not being able, or not wanting to explain the reason for his late visit to this room, that person had to take shelter in the first place he found. To which he was closest. That is, the garden. Hence, he didn't even have time to close the door behind him.

In truth he had done well not to go after the intruder when he detected it! Well, who knows how he might react if being cornered? Oscar had spent the months making plans and being careful not to die in chapter sixty, as fate dictated, but perhaps now he should protect himself to avoid a death before that fateful episode.

Now, regarding the gardens; until just before dawn it had been raining. Sometimes even quite forcefully. It was logical to deduce the stranger had left at a time when the rain continued unabated. Ergo, traces of having been there he should have left. Because, assuming he was someone from the mansion, what need would he have to go outside? And more with which was falling! There was no doubt this was an emergency situation, caused by him.

Going down that line of deduction, and assuming it was an unforeseen event to have left Fairview, where would he have hidden? He would have to be close, since if he walked away, he would risk someone seeing him through the windows on the upper floors. Not to mention that his clothes would end up even more wet and muddy. Well, by the way, several mudflats had formed around the property, due to the last storms.

If Oscar were the intruder, he would have stayed glued to the door. Perhaps to the left of it, since there were a couple of pots with plants with leaves that were abundant enough to hide behind them. Not only that, but that was also a strategic point, since there was no window facing what at that moment could be described as a blind spot in architecture. And, if someone passed through the door with the intention of going out into the garden, from that place the intruder could attack him without having to fear for a reaction.

With some haste, being alert, the shadow of the night before could have knocked someone unconscious or even killed them. If he didn't have weapons with him, even some of the smaller flowerpots - which were also there - could have served him well.

Oscar felt a chill just thinking about what he had gotten rid of. But, at that moment, he knew he was no longer in danger. He was convinced the intruder, despite being aware that someone had been in the kitchens, couldn´t know for sure who it was. So if Oscar kept a low profile and didn't go around pestering people with questions, chances were no one would be looking for him.

For now, when he approached the space between the pots and one of the walls of the house, he could see that there were some footprints on the floor that had not yet been erased. They could not be distinguished very well, since they were in an area where there was equal parts dirt and grass. Besides that it was flooded. Although the front part of a sole of a right foot could be distinguished perfectly.

Oscar was debating between crouching down and taking a look, not too subtle an action, or standing up making his own deductions from above, when a voice was heard from beside him.

"Wow, those tracks look a lot like the ones my boots leave! Although I'm wearing them today and I don't have another pair. What a relief, don't you think? For an instant I imagined they had been stolen from me and I had to make my way home in socks!”

"I thought you ran off," Oscar said.

At that point in his existence, he had become used to his roommate engaging in his affairs, without invitation of any kind.

"Where could I?" Kenneth asked in turn. “I don't have anything to do either! What were you doing, by the way? I mean, you know I'm a modern guy and I don't care where others do it. In fact, and don't tell anyone this, I know that Moore has a habit of doing it in the geraniums at Lilac Hall. But here there are also latrines.”

"I was admiring the plants and had just noticed that someone got into a bad position to observe them. Look, his shoes must have gotten so dirty”

He might have mentioned that such a position was a bit odd for someone who only admired plants, but Oscar also didn't want to draw Kenneth's attention to his own research.

"That's true, but he must have cleaned them, didn't he? In the kitchen there are no traces of mud anywhere.”

Neither in the kitchens, nor in the adjoining room that served as their dining room, nor in the corridors… Oscar made a count and, indeed, there were no stains anywhere he had passed.

Or he, too, could clean the floor and leave the boots as they were, making sure to remove them when he realized he was leaving the floor missing. After all, cleaning your boots is a bit of a hassle here.

Not only because there weren't many places where they could be cleaned, but because with the time he was doing, the footwear was destined to get dirty again just when one set foot outside the mansion.

"What is clear is that someone had to brush the floor, if it occurred to that person to go back into the kitchen with their shoes on."

"But that could have been any day, right? I mean, no one has complained that someone made a mess today.”

"If it had been another day, those prints wouldn't be there. They would have already been covered by an even larger puddle and with the increasing humidity they would have been completely erased.”

Kenneth had to agree with him there, perhaps wondering what they were doing standing there, arguing about some footsteps that anyone could have made. In any case, Oscar wouldn´t have answered this question clearly, if he had decided to ask it aloud. And the fact is that, once all the deductions that could be made about those boots were concluded, Oscar left the place as if it no longer produced the slightest interest.

Yes, it is true that he went a little deeper into the gardens. He even went to the clothesline where, on sunny days, the maids hung their clothes to dry. But after taking in the scenery around him, it didn't take him two minutes to turn around and re-enter Fairview.

The chill he kept getting outside of him had woken him up a bit from his lethargy but, generally speaking, he still felt like a living dead. He felt as if a weight was hovering over his head, pushing him down, trying to bury him with every step taken.

Oscar decided to take a look inside a small room next to the kitchens, a place that was used as a laundry and that, on rainy days like this, was more full of clothes than usual. There really wasn't much to see there, so he exited almost as soon as he entered. Not even giving Kenneth a chance to follow him inside.

After having inspected everything he wanted in that wing of the service, not caring at all about keeping a conversation alive or asking about the well-being of his patrons, he sat down at the table and leaned his head on his arms, serving him as a pillow. He had instructed Kenneth not to speak to him, unless one of the masters or the police themselves required something of him, under threat of death if the other happened to break his promise of silence.

So Kenneth had no choice but to sit next to him, keeping quiet and bored.

Oscar didn´t fall asleep, but he closed his eyes and remained in the same position for a long time. So it was not surprising that those who passed by that room and saw him, thought that he was sleeping. There was someone who complained that someone had chosen such a bad place to take a nap, but neither Kenneth came out to defend him, nor did anyone dare to kick him out.

He was already dozing when he heard a man complaining about some clothing. That it seemed that it wasn´t where it should be, or that they did a bad job with it. Oscar didn´t understand it well, because of how he was yelling, but it must have been someone from the service, because the maid who was treating him had no qualms about responding to the insults and even ignoring him, treating him as if he were the culprit that his clothes were ruined.

After learning the main point of that conflict, Oscar no longer paid attention and the man soon left with all his fury elsewhere.

Having lain back for half an hour, when he got up from his seat, Oscar realized that Kenneth had been no longer next to him for a long time. By then, the police had arrived and the butler was gathering the staff to give them the pertinent instructions.

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