Chapter 19

The first person to discover Jeremy was Eri, a servant who had risen early in the morning and was looking out the window. When Eri rushed outside shouting while hastily throwing on an outer coat, the magnificent manor looked down upon the poor victim’s corpse like a beast with its body puffed up.

The frozen corpse, covered with cloth, was carried by people’s hands and placed on the long table in the kitchen.

Water dripped steadily from the melting snow on the frozen body, pooling on the stone floor. As soon as Dr. Sutton, whom Clayton had sent a servant to fetch, arrived, he entered the kitchen without hesitation. While he examined the corpse by pulling back the cloth, everyone waited in the lobby under Clayton’s direction.

Standing among the murmuring manor residents, Ian kept his gaze toward the kitchen with a pale face. It felt like a knife had been pressed to his throat.

All his previous leisurely feelings vanished completely, and his neck stiffened with taut nerves.

Even without checking the system, his terror level must have soared. His sense of reality disappeared, and his mind reeled.

Suddenly he felt someone grab his hand.

Ash, who had been looking up at him with a worried face, took Ian’s hand and pulled him.

“Come this way, brother.”

Ash, who led him to a nearby reception room, encouraged Ian to sit in a chair. Though Ian tried to look fine, Ash pulled his hand quite firmly.

“You look like you might collapse any moment.”

Ash’s hand speaking these words was strangely hot—not painful, but unusually warm compared to usual—but Ian wasn’t in the right mind to notice such things.

Simply not wanting to worry the child, Ian sat down heavily in the chair, hung his head, and rubbed his face with both hands. He felt someone sit beside him. When a hand touched his back, he looked up. Eyes filled with worry beneath delicate eyebrows were looking at him.

‘What kind of sight am I making in front of a child.’

At this, Ian forced his lips upward to make an expression that he was fine.

But in his head, the judgment that he could no longer keep Ash in such a dangerous place was flashing through his mind.

Thinking that nothing would happen had been a misjudgment.

But certainly no strange points had been confirmed inside the manor. Then had Jeremy discovered something in the garden sculptures that Ian hadn’t noticed?

‘Why Jeremy? How did this happen?’

Ian’s eyes, consumed by fear, shook back and forth in confusion.

While the two waited for news in the reception room, the sound of several people walking could be heard. Dr. Sutton, who seemed to have hastily thrown a coat over his indoor clothes due to rushing, entered the reception room with a furrowed brow.

Ian found himself bolting upright without realizing it.

Dr. Sutton, who approached closely, looked up at the pale-faced young man who seemed to be trembling.

“We’ll need to prepare a coffin.”

“…”

Ian’s legs gave out and he collapsed back into the chair.

Jeremy Shiller’s corpse was placed in a coffin that Gabe had hurriedly driven the carriage to buy from town and temporarily laid to rest in an unused room.

And to investigate the sudden death, an investigator from the nearest city arrived. Usually an investigator wouldn’t come to such a remote place for the death of a single commoner, but it was at the request of the Baron, the manor’s owner, who had sent someone.

The arriving investigator, Bray Fisher, was a thin, tall, elderly man with a large nose in the center of his face that was red from constantly wiping it with a handkerchief.

Sniffling and looking disapprovingly up at the large, magnificent manor, the investigator who entered through the front door met eyes with the old butler who had been waiting.

“Welcome. The master has been waiting for you.”

At those words, Fisher nodded and was guided by the butler into the reception room.

“Master, the investigator you’ve been waiting for has arrived.”

As soon as he stepped into the reception room, the butler who had been two steps ahead turned around.

Soon a well-dressed young man with straw-colored hair approached quickly and urgently extended his hand.

“Thank you for coming in such cold weather. I’m grateful you came despite the urgent request. I’m Ian… Walton.”

Fisher looked down at the extended hand briefly before taking it and shaking it.

‘So this is that lucky greenhorn.’

Though Fisher reflexively sneered inwardly, he was surprised that the young man who had inherited the title and manor in place of his young nephew was so comfortable and without arrogant aspects that he felt an inexplicable fondness. Hiding such thoughts, he delivered the documents sent by the mayor.

“I’m investigator Bray Fisher, here to investigate this matter, Baron Giles.”

“I’ve asked all the manor residents to cooperate with you, investigator, but my nephew, who was the deceased teacher’s student, suddenly became unwell, so I’m afraid he won’t be able to answer questions.”

“Oh my, you must be very worried. In winter, people often fall ill.”

Winter was a season when health easily deteriorated.

Sniffling and nodding, Fisher politely declined Ian’s offer of a warm beverage and soon went around asking the manor residents quickly and matter-of-factly about the dead young tutor, speaking in a nasal voice.

There was need for quick investigation, but also…

‘I don’t particularly want to stay in this manor long.’

He had no particular resentment toward the kind manor owner. But walking inside the manor, he felt as if something was watching him, thoroughly examining his insides, making all the hair on his body stand on end.

Anyway, whenever Fisher asked questions, the manor residents carefully answered about the Jeremy they knew.

“He was immodest and frivolous, but still not severely rude. He wasn’t the type to earn anyone’s resentment.”

“He got along well with the Baron and the young master. They even went on picnics together. He got along well with us too.”

“I don’t know what he intended to use it for, but he was very interested in the creatures around the manor and the stories passed down in this region.”

Fisher carefully wrote down what he heard in the notebook in his pocket.

“Such cases aren’t entirely unheard of. He still looked young and healthy, but unfortunately it seems there was a problem with his heart.”

Dr. Sutton, the white-haired, wrinkled-faced attending physician who arrived for the investigator’s visit, answered Fisher’s questions while pushing up his glasses that hung down to his nose tip.

Sniffling, Fisher wrote down the old man’s words in his notebook.

After parting with Dr. Sutton, he decided to examine the coffin containing the corpse. In the coffin placed in the center of the unheated room lay the corpse of a pale young man.

The corpse with hands folded on his chest looked clean even to the eye and was wrapped in neat, good everyday clothes. Fisher’s eyes narrowed at that attire. It was excessive clothing for a mere tutor. Silently examining the clothes, Fisher went up to Jeremy’s room in a corner of the fourth floor.

Opening the door to the room that had lost its owner, cold air circulated. And it was messy. The appearance suggested someone had ransacked the room, so Fisher looked for the servant in charge of cleaning the room with sharp eyes. The servant who came running when told he was being called stood before Fisher with a nervous face.

“Has anyone entered this room since the tutor died?”

At the investigator’s expression surrounded by stern authority, the servant who shrank his neck shook his head and answered in a cowed voice:

“No, the master personally sealed the door. And the teacher originally used his room comfortably…”

This meant the messy room was as it normally was. The investigator’s eyes, which had sharpened momentarily, relaxed again. Sniffling and seeming lost in thought for a moment, Fisher looked around the room.

On the wall hung a mixture of clean shirts that hadn’t been washed long and shirts with dirty sleeves, and spare outer clothes lay on the floor, abandoned like shed skin. Orphaned sock pairs rolled around the bed area.

Though the floor wasn’t dirty from not being swept, the room had a disorderly atmosphere due to items scattered here and there. Walking around and examining the surroundings, Fisher’s gaze reached a large wardrobe standing against the wall. Standing in front of the wardrobe and opening the door, he could see several pieces of clothing inside.

And in one corner was a suitcase brought when coming to the manor.

Pulling out the bag and looking inside, a notebook emerged from the bottom of the bag. When he opened the notebook, leaves and black feathers that had been tucked inside fell to the floor.

‘Such vagrant behavior…’

With a momentarily dismayed expression, Fisher carefully picked up the several dried, brittle leaves and feathers and tucked them into the front page. Holding the notebook and sitting at a desk in one corner to examine it, though not particularly well drawn, trees, grass, and animals around the manor were sketched with recognizable skill, with simple impressions written down.

As such records continued to later pages, strange patterns were drawn. The last page was strangely filled with curved lines and bent lines that enlarged and drew the patterns. Inorganic ash-gray eyes scanned over it, then sniffled once and closed the notebook.

Leaving the room, Fisher headed for the study.

Since the price of one book was equivalent to two weeks’ food expenses for a commoner, the study with countless books densely packed overwhelmed those who entered. Gray eyes searched for the manor’s owner, then belatedly reached the fireplace. The person who had been standing beside the armchair in front of the fireplace, gazing at the blazing flames, turned toward Fisher.

Deep, sunken brown eyes looked at him as if seeking answers. Fisher bowed his head toward him.

“There were no particular points for you to worry about, Baron. I spoke with the manor residents, but aside from the tutor having somewhat eccentric tendencies, he didn’t seem like the type to earn anyone’s resentment.”

Ian nodded as if he had expected being unable to provide any definitive answer.

“…That’s the kind of person he was.”

Biting his lips, Ian gazed at the blazing flames for a long while. Then he nodded and continued, looking at Fisher:

“I think I was being too stubborn. I should hurry with the funeral. Thank you for coming. How about having a meal together before you leave? It’s cold outside.”

Fisher briefly considered the dinner invitation. He declined the first time, but it was difficult to decline a second time, and it would be better to have a full stomach before going out to ride a horse.

“…Thank you for the dinner invitation, but I’m worried I might make mistakes at such a difficult occasion. Would it be alright if I ate alone before leaving?”

Though the young Baron’s face clouded, he nodded. He soon called the butler and asked to arrange a separate dining place for Fisher.

Since he had a cold, the stew with chicken broth and plenty of stored root vegetables, thoroughly boiled, suited Fisher’s taste perfectly. Constantly sniffling, he busily moved his spoon and finished the meal. After a servant took away Fisher’s used dishes and showed him the exit, it was truly time to leave this manor.

On the way to the back door, someone approached.