Chapter 37: Chapter 37 – Love will find its way… but not today

As the police investigation wasn´t over and it was likely that some individuals would need to be re-interrogated, the police asked the guests to stay in Redhill for at least a couple more days.

That was a nuisance to many, not just because they were already fed up with the authorities spending the day asking awkward questions and meddling in their private lives, going to the point of hinting it would even be appropriate to do a search. But because, in addition to all this, the hunt could no longer be carried out.

It seemed that Patterson was owed, now that he was dead, the respect they failed to give him in life. Therefore, no one dared to take the initiative to say they´d rather go to the field for a couple of hours to take some air, regardless of the weather or that someone was observing and judging their actions.

As for Oscar, he went about his business for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring any rumors about the crime he heard, thinking he had already finished with that dire plot. Even when Kenneth tried to convince him that night to join Madeleine and him in a supposed witch hunt that looked like a failure, Oscar told him to shut up as soon as he brought it up. And, seeing that the other continued pleading, he was forced to throw a pillow at his head.

Maybe it was because Oscar was feeling dizzy, that the pillow missed its target and slammed into a wall, passing at inches from Kenneth. But at least that outburst of his made his partner decide that it would be better to ask him again the next day, when he was in a better mood and that cold he was catching had healed a little.

Neither of them counted on the fact that the illness had worsened by morning.

To be frank, not even Oscar himself understood it. In his world, he was never much given to getting sick. He had no known allergies and at most he could catch a cold once a year. In addition to the fact that his colds used to last only a couple of days, his symptoms were so slight that they didn´t prevent him from continuing his day to day normally.

Now, however, while his sore throat had rescinded, he felt that everything else had worsened. When he woke up, despite not having slept as badly as the night before, he felt tired. He felt constipated, his cough had worsened and he could feel a headache beginning to form. Nor is it that he could make any sudden movement since, if he did, that is where the dizziness and migraines would attack. He really shouldn't have gotten out of bed!

But he had to. In the view of the guests staying at Fairview for a few more days, Mr. Ramsey had arranged for their servants to assist his employees with their chores, so that they wouldn´t be idle during their stay. So he had to stand up anyway, cursing under his breath the lack of medicine he was suffering from, as well as blaming the century he was in for making him so weak.

During the hours of darkness, the rain had turned to hail. And hail in snow, so it was a blunt layer of snow what Oscar was greeted with when he had to begin his work at the Ramsey mansion. The hot drink he was able to have for breakfast didn´t make up for the hard work that was waiting for him outside at all.

He spent the entire morning helping Ramsey's workers clear the roads that cut through his land, until he reached the path that would lead to town. In the afternoon things did not improve much, as they sent him to the stables to take care of the animals. And while it was true that inside the stables it was a little more comfortable, sheltered from that cold air that seemed to become more and more evident, Oscar was still suffering from the prolonged exposure to the elements. Although he managed to wake up a little and was no longer dizzy, like when he got out of bed, he felt the cold more than any other day.

With his frozen hands, and even though his coat should be enough to protect him from the weather in an enclosed space like the barn, he still felt there was something wrong with his body temperature. He had, in fact, all day suspected he had developed a fever, because of not resting as he should, but he hadn´t wanted to check it. Whatever he had, they wouldn't let him stop for a rest. So what good did it do him to know? That would only demotivate him.

Fortunately, he was able to finish his day without major incidents.

Although, when he entered the mansion again, he was no longer in the mood for anything. Not to hear about the latest developments in the criminal investigation, not to try to see Albert again, much less to take the initiative himself to talk to three or four people about his suspicions. Nothing at all. He only wished that dinner would take place soon, so that he could end that necessary social gathering soon and then throw himself on his shared bed to finally sleep.

In fact, speaking of his room, he planned to go there from the moment he set foot inside the building. He intended to remove his boots, coat, battered gloves, and also his cap. Then he planned to lie down until Kenneth came to get him off the cot, with his usual insistence.

But he didn´t even reach the corridor through which the servants' rooms were accessed, for Madeleine, who must have been waiting for him to enter, accosted him before he could even head in that direction.

"I think I've found out who the killer is!" Shes said excitedly, perhaps at the possibility of being the center of attention again if she solved the case.

“Well, good for you, I guess”

Oscar tried to evade her, but Madeleine stepped in front, preventing him from passing.

"Maybe it's news to you," Oscar began, trying to keep his impending anger at bay so as not to add another annoyance to his long list, "but I'm not feeling well. So whatever you want, try another day, another week, or better yet, never!”

"Are you sick? Since when?" Because Madeleine couldn't get an answer out of him, as much as she waited, she tried to touch his forehead for any signs of fever; although she didn´t get to reach it, for she had barely raised her arm when the other moved away, long before there was any contact. “Seeing you again, it does seem like you are, you look terrible,” she said, perhaps a bit annoyed that her subtle act of kindness wouldn´t have been appreciated. “Have you been working like this?”

"Some of us have to work to make ends meet, even when feeling like shit. The world is that cruel”

"Bah, don't say it like that. You may be ill, but you mustn´t feel so bad if you can still stand up without help” Thus, putting the other's problems on the back burner, she communicated with all the seriousness in the world. “Now, speaking of what concerns us, I have the certainty that the butler is the real culprit of all this mess.”

‘Is the butler guilty because the author wanted it that way or because Madeleine believed it so?’ Oscar wondered. It wasn´t a very smart question considering that, in the end, Madeleine could only be a fictional entity in the hands of someone who didn´t have much idea of ​​police plots. And, viewed that way, what Madeleine thought was only a reflection of what Dianne took to be true.

"Later I´ll explain to you in detail how I came to this resplendent conclusion, as I´m convinced you´re waiting to hear it" Regardless of whether the other did not show an iota of enthusiasm at this news and it seemed that he was just waiting for her to finish talking to leave, she added in a low voice. “But now isn´t the time, someone might hear us! That´s why I need you to accompany me without asking questions”

"What do you mean to accompany you? I don't know if you remember, but it was a long time since I stopped working for your family. If you need company, ask Mallory”

"No, no, Mallory's no good for this. It's a high-risk mission! I can't trust her”

"And what makes you think that I am interested in putting my integrity at risk on a mission I don't know about?"

"But you're not completely unaware of it… Do you remember Kenneth and I were trying to catch the killer? Well! That's about it. What happens is that we both have different opinions about who´s the real culprit. So I thought, I'm going to prove this idiot and everyone else that I'm right! And that's why I need your help to hunt down the killer”

"Do you have proof that Weiss is guilty?"

"Don't speak so loud!" Madeleine chided, glancing around her to make sure no one was aware of their conversation before continuing. “Of course I have evidence, I am not one of those who goes around accusing without having them. I have even found the lair where that monstrous man planned it all!”

"Are you sure it's a criminal's lair? Perfect! Let me tell you, Madeleine, that this is the time when people with more than two brain cells go to the police to tell them what they know, and also when fools run to the supposed hiding place to try to find clues or even meet with the murderer to blackmail him”

"Ah? I knew you were really in need of cash, but I had no idea it was to such an extent that you needed to beg a murderer... Come on, don't look at me like that! If you want, I'll give you the necklace back later”

“I'm leaving!”

“No wait! I'm just saying that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, it's not foolish to see an opportunity and know how to take advantage of it. Although going to the extreme of asking someone who could kill you for money seems too risky, but there you go! All I wanted was to visit that shed, because I found out the butler goes there a lot, despite not being his obligation, and look for clues. If I talk to the police first, they´ll do it themselves! And if they catch the butler in the process, they won't even thank me for putting them on the right track!”

"This may be a revolutionary idea, but why don't you go alone and let the rest of us live?"

"But Oscar, how am I going to go alone? We´re talking about the lair of a dangerous psychopath! And I am a lady, it is obvious that I shouldn´t go on my own" Perhaps fearing he would repeat that he didn´t intend to accompany her or, worse, that he would instigate her to be brave and go on her own, she added. “On the other hand, if a gentleman like you were with me...”

She left the phrase in the air, managing to provoke a feeling of rejection - even greater - on Oscar´s part, when hearing the word "gentleman" addressed to his person. In truth, Madeleine only tried to talk sweet to him when she needed something. And well, that's assuming being a gentleman was a compliment in her language. Because for Oscar, with his 21st century mentality, it was more of an offense than anything else.

But hey, the point is that he wasn´t going to fall into that game. If she really wanted him to come with her, she was going to have to drag him there by force. Because Oscar had no intention of giving in.

"Patrick, it's good that you're here!" Madeleine called after him, watching him appear through one of the corridors. “I need some help!”

And the protagonist was there, indeed, but as soon as Madeleine called him out, the very coward began to back away little by little, as if he had just seen what he shouldn't and was trying to make sure that none of those involved in the scene caught him for being spying. Despite carrying that attitude, Oscar had an iota of hope in being able to pass the burden to another idiot when he saw Patrick stop, unable to divert the attention of his fiancée.

"You must tell Oscar to come with me," she asked, grabbing Oscar by the sleeve of his jacket so that he couldn't escape. “I don't know what's wrong with him lately, but now he's using the fact that he's no longer working for my family to refuse helping me! It seems like he doesn't even care about the friendship we´ve always professed for each other anymore!”

"Who´s Oscar ...? Oh, right!” Patrick had taken a couple of steps forward, making sure that Madeleine's request wouldn't hurt him and, recognizing his employee right away, he told him. “Oscar, do me a favor and go with her wherever she tells you. No buts, or you're fired!”

"She was asking me to accompany her to a...!" Oscar tried to protest, but Madeleine covered his mouth before completing the sentence.

And of course, to Patrick that didn´t seem suspicious or didn´t want to seem it, fed up as he must also be of the protagonist. The aforementioned didn´t even ask them where they would go or how long they would take to return. He only gave them his blessing and threatened, once again, to fire Oscar if he didn´t do what Madeleine ordered.

What could Oscar do but obey, then? He needed the money. It wasn't as urgent as Madeleine had mentioned, but it was true that he was in a hurry. If not for that, he would have refused. He was in such a bad mood that he wouldn't even have minded being fired. What's more, it would have been better that way! But it wasn´t  yet time.

Outside it had stopped snowing hours ago. But the low temperatures were maintained, causing the snow not only not to set, but to keep covering the entirety of the fields. As if this weren´t enough, storm clouds persisted, even as it was beginning to get dark, so it wasn´t ruled out that another snowfall would occur soon.

In any case, that didn't bother Madeleine. Not that, not the prevailing cold, not that Oscar was having a hard time having to follow her through the farms. Luckily, the shed they were heading to was not as far away as Oscar first thought. It may have been a one or two hundred meters from the mansion, half hidden among the first trees of a small forest.

To anyone approaching it for the first time, this might appear to be a rudimentary little house, devoid of windows, and strategically located for the shelter of the employees who used to work near the Ramsey property boundaries. And it is that, in another time, that small construction must have been used for that: As a temporary refuge for a servant. But now it was just another warehouse, with nothing special about it.

"I don't understand why you wanted to come here," Oscar declared once inside that space that shouldn't have measured more than ten square meters. “The butler comes in often, well, what about that? Perhaps the masters are trying to sell this site or make it a profit and have commissioned Mr. Weiss to check its chances of being placed. Either that, or they want this to be decent… What a good thing it does!”

And Oscar was right about that. The shed was full of shelves that housed everything from farm tools to already broken ornaments for the living rooms of a large house. There were even a couple of rather bad-looking sofas in one corner. Some of the padding had come out and it felt as if as soon as one touched them, they would crumble. The objects closest to the door were the only ones that remained in perfect condition, since they were utensils that Ramsey employees still used from time to time. Everything else, on the other hand, remained covered with a layer of dust, as if it had not been touched for years.

Hadn't Weiss come that way? Well! It was becoming more and more obvious that he only did it to check the state of things. If he had wanted to get rid of some incriminating evidence, for example, wouldn't it have been more effective to throw it into the river? After all, there was one that passed by nearby...

But Madeleine wasn't going to give up so easily. Obsessed as she was that there was plenty of evidence to prove her right, she seized a small lamp — which, to Oscar's surprise, despite the fact that its glass was broken and was also covered by its respective blanket of dust, it still had enough wax left. as if to let itself be turned on— and she used it to illuminate the place, beginning to search every corner.

"Don't just stand there and help out a bit!" She reprimanded Oscar, seeing how he just stood in front of the door, watching her.

"That wasn't in the deal."

"Patrick ordered you to obey me, so start by opening those boxes. Come on!”

 "I'm afraid my master isn't here to see what I'm doing or what I'm not doing." It wasn't just that Oscar didn't feel like continuing to act like the gentle servant he was expected to be, it's that so much dirt was doing him bad; he had already had to hold a handkerchief to his nose and mouth when Madeleine began to move things, to avoid having another episode of coughing. “I prefer to stay here, encouraging you in your commendable work. Oh and no, you don't need to threaten me again, because I will stand firm on this for health reasons. If you want to tell Patrick about how bad I've been behaving later, go ahead.”

After all, this didn't count as disobeying a direct order from Patrick. It didn't count, first because he wasn't looking. And secondly, because it wasn't as if Madeleine was a proper person who made simple requests to comply. Or so his feverish brain urged him to believe.

"You're going to regret this!"

Madeleine exclaimed this furiously but, to the other's astonishment, she didn´t ask him again for help. Maybe it was because she was in a hurry to find something before Kenneth, the police or anyone else, because she just got rid of insults and curses, directing them all at Oscar and no longer paid any more attention to such a rude employee.

Now, could Oscar go back to Fairview because Madeleine was distracted? The answer was yes. She was so busy moving objects around and kicking furniture that she wouldn´t have known that someone had left the shed. However, Oscar didn´t leave. He could have been out of curiosity, for a brief moment of idiocy since it seemed that he was there getting cold for fun, or because he feared retaliation if he returned to the mansion alone. He didn´t like Madeleine, but it didn´t seem ethical to him to leave her there, in a secluded place from the mansion, and since another snowfall was coming.

He would have to give too many explanations if he came back alone. So wasn't it better to try to convince her to come back on her own feet? It should be, but with how stubborn she was, a direct approach wouldn't do any good. So Oscar had no choice but to get into the rag: If he found out why she was so hell-bent on going to the shed, maybe he could find a gap in her logic and make her give up on her own.

"Madeleine, could you tell me now what evidence you had against the butler?"

“Now?” She asked after a few seconds, from behind some bookshelf, between the noises of things falling to the floor without any care.

"Yes, now. Perhaps speaking out what you have against him could even help you to carry out that search more efficiently”

"Well… I´m convinced it could only have been the butler. Why? Well, because he was the one who brought the poisoned drink to poor Mr. Patterson, despite having no obligation. That tells me he had an unfinished business with his victim! Which is confirmed by having found those papers in the fireplace. He burned them”

"How risky. But why would he do such a thing?”

"Don't you see? That symbol on the document that Kenneth found belonged to Mr. Patterson's former family company. You know, the one that went bankrupt. I was asking the ladies, and they told me that Mr. Weiss worked in that business before it went bankrupt. Surely he now he resented Patterson!”

Oscar sighed. That made no sense: If things had been like this, Weiss would have killed Patterson much earlier. Well, knowing that he and his new employer were good friends, it would be customary for Patterson to visit Fairview. That for one thing. On the other hand, where did that grudge come from? Being a butler in a large house was a more prestigious position and, without a doubt, he was paid better than working as a simple laborer in a small factory or shop.

"What about the footprints?"

"They were made by Mr. Patterson."

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"But Kenneth said his boots were clean."

"They could have cleaned them after he got the carpet dirty!"

That couldn't be either. Brutes to the point of saying yes, that's the way the Ramseys' guests were — with a few exceptions — but they wouldn't cause trouble for the master on purpose. In addition, Oscar, who by staying in the service wing had learned certain customs that Madeleine was seen to be ignorant of, knew that after one of these days in the countryside, the usual thing was for the gentlemen to leave their boots in the hallway, next to the door, the moment they returned from outside. So that an employee of the service could collect, clean, and leave them back in the same place a couple of hours later.

That way, apart from saving time, guests were prevented from getting too dirty.

"What about the bed? Was there anyone with Mr. Patterson?"

"That's Kenneth's invention! That boy only has birds on his head. You loosen the blankets a bit and he already thinks you got a lover. It's stupid!”

Oscar had no reply for that. Kenneth might be stupid, but looking at the details there were few that would beat him. If only he had the head to connect the facts properly…! But it seemed that neurons would short-circuit from time to time.

"He had a theory too, didn't he?"

"A most idiotic theory," Madeleine remarked, whose repertoire of insults was seen to be not very wide. “Do you know who insisted he did it? Mr. Northrop!”

Hearing that resolution, Oscar couldn't help but laugh. Maybe at some point in the past he would have thought the same thing, but now, with all the clues he had found on his own and knowing Albert's character well, it seemed like a joke.

"Still on that?"

"He was very insistent about I don't know what ‘blood revenge is paid with blood’ and that you in particular should also be careful with him" Pausing here for a moment, to reflect, she asked. “Why would he tell me that you, precisely, should be careful?”

"Who knows?" Oscar thought, as he said this, that perhaps it was time to tell Kenneth the villain had no ill intentions towards him. “But, Madeleine, I have to agree with one thing. This crime wasn´t committed by any of Ramsey's guests.”

"I already knew that, no one with a modicum of education would be capable of something so low!"

Hearing this absurd assertion, Oscar could have cited dozens of examples of cases in which people belonging to high society committed a crime or, at least, attacked an innocent person. But he refrained. It wasn´t worth arguing about.

Instead, it was the right time to comment on his own conclusions about Patterson's death:

"It was someone from the service who killed Patterson," he began. “And by service, I don't mean anyone who was employed by Patterson himself. Nor am I talking about old Ramsey employees, like the butler. Why? Because Mr. Patterson often visited Fairview and also had many occasions to hang out with those who were under his command. Why not take the opportunity to kill him at any other time?”

"Maybe the hunt was important, don't dismiss the butler so quickly!" Madeleine protested, reappearing amid wooden crates and various junks she was trying to get around as she made her way into the tight space she had to maneuver. “Think that a lot of people have come to this Ramsey thing. The more people, the more suspicious!”

And it was true that the police had also had to go to question the villagers who came to the hunt, causing this incident to be resolved even more slowly than usual. But how many people Patterson had talked to, greeted, or even seen in those two days mattered little if Weiss was guilty. Because, if so, how could he make such a foolish mistake as proclaiming himself the first and last person to see the deceased?

"The hunt was important, but only because it was the only chance for the real killer to meet Mr. Patterson. Hence he used this weekend to kill him”

"You ... You think you're very smart, right?"

"It isn´t a question of intelligence, but of discard. The one who went after Patterson was someone who had a recent conflict with him (and therefore knew him well) or who didn´t see him often and was waiting for the opportunity to get rid of him. The last option is the most plausible. That is why I would go for the employees of any of the guests or even someone who works for Ramsey and has been hired in the last few months”

Oscar had only mentioned this, without further explanation, but he felt that he had already talked too much. Not only was his throat starting to hurt, but he didn't make sense to explain much more to the protagonist. She, in her determination that the culprit was not one of the guests, it was evident her lack of interested in how he had reached such conclusions, conforming to her own mentality of "all nobles are human of indisputable decency". Hell, it might have been okay to tell about Patrick's mess in the bathroom ...

Madeleine wouldn't ask and, to be honest, Oscar didn't like confessing some of the things he'd seen either.

He was still considering whether something else was worth saying, just enough for her to give up looking for the nonexistent, or whether it was time to give up and go back to Faiview without her annoying company, when the door slammed shut. Something natural, on the other hand, since it was still windy. What was no longer so normal is that trying to open it again was impossible.

Oscar tried several times, turning the knob and pushing the door as best he could, but there was no way. Not that it was stuck or that the snow had blocked it, it is that someone must have closed it from the outside! He couldn't know for sure, but he had that feeling. There was not enough snow at the entrance to cause such a blockage. And the shed door in question didn't have any padlocks or a lock either, all there was was a wooden board that could lock it from the outside. Sweep that he and Madeleine cleared out of the way before entering.

Ergo, this couldn't be an accident. Having left that little board leaning against the front of the shed, if the door were to be unlocked, someone would have to have closed it and put that piece back in its place.

"I'm afraid we're locked in," he said, with all the calmness in the world.

Not that he had a great plan to get out of there or that he was excited to share the same stale air as the protagonist, but knowing that someone had deliberately locked them up, the matter couldn´t be that serious. In other words, Oscar had been living for months in fear that someone would kill him. The fact that, being able to kill them there, they chose not to, was a relief itself.

"We can't be locked in, you sure haven't turned the knob in the right direction!"

"Sure, what a head of mine... Sometimes I forget how a door works!" Stepping aside, he indicated. “Would you kindly give me a demonstration on the correct way?”

Madeleine had been rummaging where she shouldn't have and she had gotten dirt on her dress. Her hands and face, as well as her coat and hat, were as if she had integrated into one of the poorest neighborhoods in London, spending up to a week working in the same trade as the beggars. If to that was added the angry face that she brought, seeing that she was going to have to do a job as simple as opening a door because the servant she brought was so useless, the result is that her appearance caused fear.

Come on, dread whoever looked at her for the first time or found her in a dark corridor. Oscar, who saw her reach for the door and unsuccessfully turn her handle, only laughed.

Madeleine, seeing that the knob was not working either way, tried to push the door open. Then, since that didn't work either, she kicked it. And since she didn´t achieve anything useful, she began to punch the wood and shout, in a somewhat infuriating way, the name of her supposed fiancée to come and rescue her.

Oscar, for his part, simply picked up a cloth that he had found on a shelf, with a view to using it to clean one of the sofas there. After having removed enough dust so as not to stain himself too much and to verify that this hulk would support his weight, he sat down with total parsimony.

"You could be doing something too!" Madeleine yelled at him at one point, before returning to her racket. “We´ll die of cold and hunger if we stay here!”

"I´m sick, I must not make efforts."

That already seemed to be Oscar's new favorite excuse, but it was as true as any other. He didn't feel right to scream and bang on the door with such energy as Madeleine did. He already believed he had done enough by hanging around all day in the snow and talking until he didn't have to. Besides, he relied on the halo of good luck that always used to accompany the female protagonist in this type of cliché novel.

So even if she didn't throw a tantrum — well founded this time, though — someone would come to their rescue before it was too late. Oscar had that certainty, although, if he had been alone in that shed, it was likely he would have lost his nerve.

With his misfortune, he was sure they would only recover his remains three days after he passed away.

Madeleine therefore continued her tantrum. As she had already proven that she couldn´t knock and kick the door down, she had taken a shovel that she found and was trying with that. The result? The gate might not budge an inch, but the knob did. And moving was saying little, because in truth what it did was fall and roll away from that madwoman with impulses of violence.

"Why don't you just quit?" Oscar asked softly, already fed up with all the noise. “When it's time for dinner and they see you're gone, they'll come looking for you. It´s  impossible for them to forget you. And even less impossible is that they won't find you, considering how close we are to Fairview”

"What if the killer shows up first?"

"If he shows up, I'll surely go after you. Not because you were the one who had the idea to go where you shouldn´t, but cause you´re the one who´s closest to the door”

Hearing this, Madeleine must have been even more frightened than she already was, because she withdrew from the entrance as if it were on fire. Then, trying to regain her lost dignity, she brushed off her clothes a bit and began to find where to sit.

There was no doubt that it was the criminal who had locked them up. Until a few moments ago, the door remained completely open and, knowing that the space was limited in there, anyone who came from outside could see them and even hear them speak. There was no way anyone could get confused and think the cabin was empty.

At this point, and except for the innumerable complaints the protagonist uttered seeing herself alone and helpless in that shed, with no early possibility of salvation, Oscar was able to rest. It might not be accurate to say that he relaxed, because who could in such circumstances? But he did lean against the back of his seat and closed his eyes, trying to forget where he was.

The killer could come back, yes, but he had faith that, with Madeleine there, it would save them both. The protagonist halo was still as powerful as at the beginning of the novel, so in that sense, Oscar was more likely to die of hypothermia than for any other reason.

And, speaking of cold, he felt it more than when they arrived at the shed. He was even shivering, but the only blanket they had found in the entire cabin had been requisitioned by Madeleine and she refused to hand it over. Therefore, and knowing that it would not be good for him to sleep just yet, despite how sleepy he was already, Oscar decided the best thing would be to try to think of something else. He might not hold out like this for a whole day, but an hour or two, as the people of Fairview realized his absence and went out to find Madeleine, he could probably resist.

So he stayed there, trying to control his body temperature without much success. Madeleine's complaints quickly turned to whispers as he turned his thoughts to other matters. About crime, without going any further.

There were several facts that made Oscar think the culprit was someone from the service.

The first of them had been the unknown person who sneaked into the kitchen that night, which went out into the garden and stayed near the door. He wore boots whose sole was similar, if not the same, as any of the Ramsey employees whose work occurred abroad. With this, there were two options. Either the culprit was indeed one of the people who tended the stables and farms, or it was someone entirely different who had used someone else's footwear. Either way, the option that he was off duty was more likely. Even in the case of having used a disguise, it was not common for guests to know how or where the clothes of their servants were kept.

At the very least, they wouldn't know in detail. Only someone who belonged to the service would know what clothes the rest of the workers had left to wash or dry.

And Oscar had inadvertently confirmed the costume option. Because, that individual who complained the maids had returned his clothes to him while they were still wet, wouldn't that have something to do with this? If whoever used that went outside purely by improvisation, to get rid of Oscar, wouldn't it be possible that those clothes had gotten wet and dirty there?

The second reason Oscar suspected someone from the service was because of the drinks. Although everyone was very clear it was the butler who brought the infusion to Patterson, no one had managed to clarify who left the gin for the service! Wasn't that strange?

It is not that it was extraordinary that any of the employees swiped one or two bottles from the cellar and, excusing themselves that someone else had given them permission, or that said bottles were spoiled, drank the contents. Ultimately, Oscar wouldn´t have paid attention to alcohol had it not been for the events that occurred on the night of the murder. And it seemed incredible to him that no one in his room had woken up when he did! It was not a question of whether there was a mysterious shadow or not, hovering in the corridors, it is that at that time Oscar was already ill and he couldn´t avoid moving on his cot or making some noise when coughing.

Couldn't someone have put those barbiturates that disappeared from the kitchen in both the gin that the employees tried and Patterson´s infusion? There was no evidence for it, but it did make sense. Most of the people who tried the gin had been individuals who slept in rooms located in the same hall as Oscar. Which made him think that an unidentified person went to great lengths to try to make sure no one was awake when he was wandering around at dawn.

It had to be an employee since, if he had permission to enter the kitchens, it would be the easiest thing in the world to steal the barbiturates without attracting the attention of the rest.

There was some danger in putting the medicine in the containers, because if people drank too much, they could die. So that person had to control very well both the dose and the people he wanted to drug. As much as their coworkers liked alcohol, they wouldn't drink to the point of getting drunk, far from it. Not when they were still on duty. They were also quite a few people; enough so that the barbiturates were well distributed.

If Patterson took a drug that made him sleep, that would explain why there were no signs of fighting in his room.

The footprints that Kenneth had found could be caused by that same shadow that Oscar saw, which was wearing some already dirty boots that didn´t belong to him. And, about the papers on the fireplace, why would Patterson take documents from his old business on a vacation retreat? None of the guests, nor the hosts, were currently working with him. They weren´t going to discuss past business, so Oscar was inclined to believe that those papers were the property of the murderer.

Perhaps he burned them there on purpose, as if he wanted to show off what he had done or because he had no better place to deposit them. He didn´t know, but what he could assure was that Patterson must have been killed for some unfinished business in the past. Something to do with his bankrupt business. Perhaps the culprit was a resentful old employee or someone who couldn't collect what was owed to him.

Be that as it may, only a servant would have needed to don a costume to go upstairs to the rooms. If any of the masters had wanted to kill Mr. Patterson, apart from having trouble getting the drugs they needed from the kitchen, they could have saved the whole business of stealing the clothes and going out into the open. Well, being only a few doors away from his possible victim, why make things difficult?

There was a loose end, yes. And that was Kenneth saying that someone else had slept in Patterson's bed… But Oscar didn't want to pay any more attention to it. In addition to the freezing cold, he now he too was beginning to feel his headache return little by little. If Patterson had a lover, it didn't matter. Well, that person had nothing to do with it; their only sin must have been running off to her own room as soon as she saw the man next to him was already dead, without warning anyone.

How many people would the drug that night...?

Oscar couldn't think anymore, in fact, he would have liked a good place to lie down for a while. But there was no room, so he could only slide into his chair, trying to rest his head on the uncomfortable backrest. How long had it been? Two hours or three? He didn't know for sure, but they must have finished dinner time by now and it was getting harder and harder for him to stay awake.

His fever must have worsened, because even Madeleine felt sorry for him, and ended up giving up her blanket, not without first reproaching him, that the least he could do was share with her. But Oscar was no longer listening, he had long since stopped doing it.

He had already begun to doze when he felt, in the distance, the sound of a door opening. He half-opened his eyes to see Madeleine stand up and say something. He couldn't make out what, but she looked scared. And if Oscar directed his tired gaze toward the entrance of the cabin, he could see the silhouette of a person with a gun which barrel was pointed alternately at the protagonist and at him.

This newly arrived shadow said something that Oscar could not hear because, at that moment, it was when he fainted. Apparently, his limit of how much he could endure without rest or care of any kind had just been exceeded just at the worst moment.

 

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