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Empress Britannia’s Statement – Part 02

“If you’ll excuse me…”

The quiet-looking, middle-aged woman, plainly-dressed and wearing no makeup, stood up gracefully and bowed with the exaggerated motion of an actor descending from the stage.

“Adieu!”

Everyone in the room watched the lady go with a dumbfounded look. A tiny blonde girl sitting in a red fluffy chair in the corner cleared her throat. On behalf of the frozen Inspector Grevil de Blois, Kazuya, coming back to his senses, stopped the lady.

“Lady Britannia! Uh… Empress Britannia!”

Slowly the lady, Empress Britannia, turned around and regarded Kazuya with cold, emotionless eyes, like she was looking at a lowborn. She looked completely different from the gentle, caring woman he met on the train; she wore what seemed like an arrogant expression.

“What is it?” she asked.

Kazuya was briefly speechless.

What is this feeling? We already got off the Old Masquerade. We’re in Saubreme now.

He swallowed.

But she’s still as eerie as the character on the card. It’s like the masquerade ball is not yet over.

The Lumberjack, who on the train claimed that his sister had been kidnapped by the King of the Underworld, told the police that he was actually a university student from Saubreme. The rest of the passengers in that compartment supposedly just made up random stories.

But the Empress, like someone who had not woken up from a dream, continued claiming that she was the Empress of the Kingdom of Krehadl, even in front of the police.

Kazuya stared into the Empress’ brown eyes. Was she acting, after all? Or… If it was an act, what reason would she have for continuing this charade?

“Well, um…” Kazuya stammered. “Inspector.”

“What?” Inspector Blois blurted, taken aback.

“He needs everyone’s luggage inspected,” Kazuya said. “I beg your pardon, but could you also show us yours?”

“That will be fine.” Empress Britannia gave a sweet smile.

The skin under her eyes wrinkled slightly, making her look like an exhausted old woman. Or a pitiful, old mermaid who had lived for centuries in a kingdom under the sea.

Pulling himself together, Inspector Blois said, “Ah, yes. Luggage.” He stood up and reached for Empress Britannia’s suitcase.

In contrast to Gideon Legrant’s girly suitcase, hers was large, rugged, and sturdy, almost as if it belonged to a man.

Kazuya opened the suitcase reluctantly.

His breath caught.

Victorique, smoking a pipe in the corner of the room, turned and gave him a wondering look.

Kazuya couldn’t get the words out.

Empress Britannia’s suitcase… was empty.

The large suitcase was empty, as though its contents had been swept away by the sea. The detectives were stunned.

“They seem surprised,” the Empress said.

“I can… see why.”

“This is my nightgown. It’s made of silk.”

She reached into the empty space and made a motion of taking something out like a skilled pantomime. Kazuya gaped at the Empress’ hand.

In what should have been an empty spot, an elegant silk nightgown appeared and rippled softly in the wind. The owner of the invisible nightgown, Empress Britannia, regarded it with a loving look.

“Those are house slippers,” she said. “It’s covered in beads. I travel in this humble disguise, but when I sleep, I dress like the Empress that I am and go to bed in my lovely nightgown.”

She held a pair of imaginary, delicate shoes with both hands, and smiled warmly once more. The mastery of her gestures stunned the detectives; they could almost see what wasn’t supposed to be there. Their gazes darted back and forth between the Empress and the empty suitcase.

“Oh, I always read that Bible before I go to sleep,” she continued. “I got it from my mother, and she received it from her mother. The Bible purifies the heart.” She gave a soft chuckle. “There’s an amber ring in that pocket, handed down from generation to generation. Oh, you all seem surprised. You didn’t expect to find something so luxurious, did you? I understand.”

Giggling, the Empress slammed the suitcase shut, the motion done wildly.

There was a loud slam, followed by a silence that filled the whole room.

Empress Britannia smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Inspector Blois jumped to his feet. “Please wait in that room, uhm, Empress, while we interview the next witness.”

All eyes were on the Empress as she left the room. The Empress kept her regal air the whole time. As the door slowly closed, Inspector Blois pulled on his drooping drill.

“Who the hell is that lady?” he mumbled to no one in particular. “Does anyone know? I’m not sure I buy the whole Empress thing. Maybe she’s an actress? If that was acting just now, then she’s incredibly good. She could receive an award in an opera in Paris. I’ve never seen such a brilliant pantomime performance anywhere. I mean, those graceful gestures.”

Victorique silently puffed on her pipe.

“Feels weird,” Kazuya said dubiously. “In the compartment, it was the Orphan who was crazy, not the Empress. But her statement just now revealed that the Orphan was just pretending. Now the Empress, who seemed like a normal person, insists that her story is true, even after getting off the train. Why would she do that? Is there a reason for her to pretend to be crazy like the Orphan?”

“Another boring remark from you,” Victorique suddenly said.

Kazuya turned to her, irked. “Let’s hear your thoughts, then.”

“No.”

“Wh-Why not?”

“It’s too much trouble. Besides, there’s still one witness left. He’s a big deal, in a sense.”

Victorique let out a yawn. She was beginning to get bored. Kazuya sat down and went deep in thought.

Inspector Blois approached, swinging the tip of his drill like a bird. “We’ll just have to settle with your opinion, then, Kujou. I, the famed Inspector Blois, will lend you my ears, so I expect you to be grateful.”

“Let me guess,” Kazuya said wearily. “You’re absolutely clueless.”

“What?! O-Of course not!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going on with that Empress, though.”

“Neither do I.” Kazuya sighed.

He recalled the conversations he had had with his co-passengers on the train, and the expressions on each of their faces. Six passengers who just happened to bump into each other. One was killed, another tried to flee amid the chaos. One was carrying a luggage with peculiar contents, and one was crazy, or pretending to be crazy.

But all Kazuya could recall were their smiles, leaving him stumped.

“After listening to their statements,” he said slowly, “I’m beginning to wonder if it really was just pure coincidence that we ran into each other. The Orphan and the Empress saved me and Victorique, so I think us being in the same compartment was mere chance. But what about the Dead and the Lumberjack?”

“What do you mean?” the Inspector asked.

“According to Gideon’s statement, the Dead peeked into the compartment, thought it was empty, and entered. But is that really true? It’s possible that he knew the Orphan was there.”

“Hmm.”

“P-Please take it with a grain of salt. It just feels that way. Also, what exactly is in Gideon’s suitcase? It looks like a woman’s luggage. Perfume bottles and a portrait of a child. In contrast, Empress Britannia’s suitcase was for men, and surprisingly, contained nothing. Why wasn’t she carrying anything? Was it empty to begin with? Or did she just throw all her stuff away during the chaos?”

Kazuya sighed. He glanced at Victorique, who was puffing on her pipe with half-lidded eyes. She looked sleepy. Must be because of my boring observation, Kazuya thought dejectedly. But Inspector Blois leaned forward and urged him to continue, poking Kazuya repeatedly on the head with the tip of his drill-shaped hair.

“Stop! It hurts!”

“Speak, then.”

“I swear to God… Okay, then. I thought about the Pick a Raisin game. An impossible murder was committed. The Lumberjack brought the raisin, the Dead poured the brandy, and the Empress decided the order. No one would have been able to kill her. At least, not alone. And then I wondered, was it really a coincidence that we ran into each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“We met each other for the first time, and we introduced ourselves. But I’m not really sure if that was the first time we actually met. What if… What if they all conspired to lie? What if those three already knew each other beforehand? What if they were accomplices? Three jack of cards mixed with the deck.”

Inspector Blois stared at Kazuya dumbly. The detectives listened nervously.

“So what you’re saying is…”

“What I’m saying is: perhaps all the raisins were poisoned. I don’t know if it was the raisins or the brandy. Which raisin the Orphan chose was a matter of chance. None of them had any control of her actions. But if all of the raisins were poisoned, she’s dead no matter which one she picked.”

Kazuya dropped his voice lower. “It was the Empress who decided the order. Starting with the Lumberjack, then the Empress, then the Dead, then the Orphan, in that order. In other words…”

“In other words…?”

“I didn’t eat any raisins.”

“Aah…”

“What if all three of them were accomplices who just pretended to eat a raisin? Raisins are tiny. A piece is so small that you can hide it between your thumb and forefinger. Then it hit me… No, wait.”

Kazuya stared into the air, remembering something.

“What is it?” Inspector Blois asked. He was standing, ready to arrest all three of the suspects. “What’s with the stupid look on your face?”

“You’re the last person I expect to say that, Inspector.”

“I’m the farthest man away from being stupid,” the inspector said. “So, what is it?”

“I think my deduction’s wrong. I just remembered something. The Lumberjack and the Empress only ate one raisin each, but the Dead ate, like, five or six at once. He even burned his mouth. I think I saw him pick up a handful and put them in his mouth.”

Inspector Blois shook his head in disappointment. The detectives sat back down, mulling the matter over.

“Unbelievable… Got me all worked up for nothing.”

“I guess we’re back to square one.” Kazuya blushed a little, dejected.

Victorique, who had been silently dozing off, opened her eyes slowly. Her eyes, deep-green as a jewel, flickered.

“That was interesting,” she commented.

“…Really?” Kazuya’s face brightened a little. “It was a dumb deduction, but I’m glad it helped stave off your boredom.”

“Indeed. It was utterly dumb. And forget about the raisins.”

“What?Why?”

Inspector Blois shuffled over and gestured them to speak quietly.

“As a matter of fact, it doesn’t really matter where the poison was,” Victorique scoffed, munching on a pile of chocolate bonbons.

“What do you mean?”

“The key to solving the mystery is the ‘seawater in the sky’. What Empress Britannia shared was a cock-and-bull story, but she mentioned something very important in her statement. Go call the last witness.”

Inspector Blois rushed to his feet. “It seems my sister is enjoying playing detective,” he muttered, holding a doll. He then ordered his men to bring the Dead.

Victorique smiled faintly as she popped a few more chocolate bonbons into her tiny mouth. “From the Lumberjack’s pretty suitcase came a perfume bottle, a portrait of a child, and a dead insect,” she murmured. “In the Empress’s rugged, plain suitcase, an imaginary nightgown and an imaginary pair of slippers. And the Dead’s suitcase, presumably of fine quality, should reveal the most horrifying things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe it has a lot to do with his made-up story. Something unusual will pop up, a proof that the living and the dead had switched places,” she mumbled enigmatically, her green eyes blinking.

---

The door opened, and the Dead slowly entered.

A large, rugged body and a face covered in a beard. He wore a worn, shabby waistcoat and mud-stained boots. Unlike his clothes, the small suitcase in his hand looked expensive, the kind noblemen used.

Ever since Kazuya and Gideon caught him while he was trying to escape, his beard-covered, tanned face had been filled with anxiety. Currently, he was flanked on all sides by brawny detectives to prevent him from escaping. Sometimes he frowned in embarrassment.

When he was ordered to sit down, he reluctantly obeyed. Sitting with his legs spread wide, he crossed his arms as if he were in a meeting, and glanced at Inspector Blois.

Kazuya sensed the man’s behavior to be different from that of the two previous witnesses. Gideon and Empress Britannia had not immediately grasped the situation in the room, the former looking around restlessly, the latter refusing to look at anything. However, as soon as the Dead sat down and looked up, he seemed to grasp who was in charge. He stared straight at Inspector Blois, his stiff beard quivering menacingly. The inspector held the Dead’s gaze.

But…

Kazuya stared at the Dead’s face.

He doesn’t know.

He swallowed.

Who’s actually in-charge…

Kazuya glanced at the little girl sitting in the pretty red chair in the corner, smoking a pipe while studying the Dead—Victorique de Blois, a Gray Wolf with formidable intellect, gently wrapped in a green taffeta dress, her magnificent blonde hair hanging to the floor. As though masking her presence, she stayed still like a carefully-displayed doll, silently smoking her pipe. Only the thin wisp of smoke rising from the white ceramic pipe indicated that she was not a doll, but a breathing, living person. The Dead man glared at Inspector Blois, oblivious to the real master of the room, his greatest enemy, the great detective Victorique.

“First, introduce yourself,” the inspector said sharply. “And none of the tall tale you shared aboard the Old Masquerade. Who are you? Who killed that girl and how? And last but not the least, why did you try to escape?”

The Dead was glowering at Inspector Blois with a dangerous look in his eyes, as though he wanted to beat him to death. He clicked his tongue. Detectives held him down from both sides.

The Dead took a deep breath.

“My name is Sam O’Neil,” he hissed. “I’m British. I’ve been working in the mines for a long time. What? Which coal mine? Does it matter?”