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The Black Bishop Prays – Part 03

A winding pathway, lined with shrubs meticulously trimmed by the elderly gardener into shapes of rabbits, squirrels, and bears, meandered through the campus of St. Marguerite Academy. When the foliage flourished, the impeccable craftsmanship captivated passersby, inviting them to pause and marvel at its beauty. Yet, in the current season, the once-lush green leaves had given way to bare branches, resembling skeletal figures of small gray creatures. The transformation cast an unsettling ambiance, as if the surroundings had been transported to a distant future, where the final stroke had been painted on everything.

From afar came the joyful voices of students engrossed in a game of human chess.

“You’re the one behind it, aren’t you?” Kazuya said, walking hand in hand with little Victorique along the snowy pathway.

The bottom of Victorique’s red dress shook. Kazuya studied her small, emotionless face. A tinge of red colored her perfect, almost inhuman features.

Abruptly her face turned as red as ripe cherries.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victorique replied.

“Don’t try to play dumb, Victorique. It won’t work.” Wearing a serious look, he marched with rhythmic footsteps. “I’m talking about the gossip from earlier. How Inspector de Blois’ subordinates, Ian and Evan, are holding hands. The inspector brilliantly solved a case, and ever since then, they had been holding hands. It’s clearly your doing.”

“Pumpkin-headed detective,” Victorique huffed.

Kazuya’s face instantly clouded. “Please don’t call me that. And for the record, I’m not a pumpkin…”

“Eggplant stem, tomato leaves, spinach core, watermelon seeds.”

“And who was crying just moments ago?” Kazuya playfully poked Victorique’s plump cheek with his free hand.

“Don’t touch me!” Victorique swatted his hand away.

Kazuya let out a disappointed sigh. Two pure-white birds toddled past them on the snowy path, leaving footprints resembling twigs. Kazuya and Victorique stepped over the marks.

“Kujou, weren’t you supposed to escort me to my dorm?” Victorique grumbled.

“I am. That’s why we’re walking together like this. You should rest somewhere warm. Your crying must have used up a lot of your energy.”

“In that case, spare me the idle chatter.”

“But I’m curious about Ian and Evan…”

“Enough!”

Victorique scowled. A clump of snow dropped on the chilly pathway.

The hem of Victorique’s dress swayed softly, like a flower dancing in the breeze.

“You’re so unbelievably persistent. Ugh, fine.”

“Yay! So, will you finally tell me?”

“Yes.” Victorique nodded reluctantly.

From the direction of the square, Inspector Blois’s voice could be heard. It didn’t sound joyous, yet it lacked any note of displeasure either.

The wind blew, shaking the bare, skeletal branches. The gentle sunlight bathed the garden in its golden glow.

---

It was several years ago, in a season as cold as this one, when Inspector Grevil de Blois had assumed his position in the village’s police department.

The trees had shed their leaves, and the sprawling vineyard, apple orchard, the church, were all covered in a silvery, wintry sheen.

Spending the winter in this quaint countryside village, Inspector Blois couldn’t help but feel a mixture of melancholy and frustration, anticipating a Christmas steeped in solitude. It had been weeks since he became an inspector, yet not a single noteworthy incident had occurred. When would he have the chance to shine? With a sigh, he whiled away the hours in his sparsely furnished office at the police station, his gaze fixed upon the empty bookshelf.

His two subordinates assigned to him, Ian and Evan, seemed equally bored. They played cards, went to the local store to tease the female shopkeeper, returned, and resumed their card games.

Days went by in the peaceful and idle village police station, where time seemed to pass endlessly. Today was no different from yesterday, and tomorrow held no promise of variation. An endless cycle of monotony.

One day, however, fate would bestow upon Inspector Blois his first encounter with a truly difficult case.

---

“That’s the infamous kidnapping case, right? I’ve never heard of it, though,” Kazuya interjected.

Victorique glanced up at him. Yawning, she said, “Quiet down and listen.”

“Oh, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Where was I?”

“A case finally came up. So, nothing has actually happened yet.”

“Hmph!”

“Cheer up. Ah, look, you’ve got crumbs from the orange cake on your face.”

As Kazuya reached out his hand towards Victorique’s cheek, her small, chubby hand swiftly swatted it away. Startled, Kazuya withdrew his hand.

Glaring sideways at Kazuya, Victorique scrubbed her own cheek, to no avail. Kazuya tried once again to brush away the lingering cake crumbs, but Victorique evaded his touch.

A pair of birds circled high above, observing the curious exchange between the two with keen interest.

From their vantage point, the two figures appeared even smaller as they continued their way along the snowy path.

“Now let’s talk about the case,” Victorique resumed.

Clumps of snow fell from the branches all around them. The snow atop the fountain melted under the gentle caress of sunlight.

It was late in the morning.

A gentle breeze blew, passing by with a tender touch.

---

It was a kidnapping case that occurred during the winter holidays at the most luxurious inn in the village. A wealthy businessman and his family were staying there, and his young son went missing from their room one morning.

Soon after, the son’s private tutor, a woman, brought a letter supposedly sent by the kidnapper. The letter stated that if they wanted their son back, they should hand over a large sum of money to the tutor and have her deliver it. The tutor insisted on complying with the kidnapper’s demands, but the businessman immediately rushed to the village police without hesitation.

Although surprised by the police inspector’s peculiar hairstyle, he was relieved to learn that he was of noble descent. The businessman firmly grasped Inspector Blois’ hand and pleaded for him to find his son.

The son was a cherished treasure, born to a couple who had struggled to conceive until they reached middle age. Although the wife had passed away due to illness, she didn’t stop worrying for her son until her last breath. And so the husband hired a full-time tutor to ensure his son’s upbringing as a worthy successor to the family business.

Inspector Blois was quick to catch on. “I suspect someone affiliated with the family.”

However, his subordinates, Ian and Evan, had a different opinion.

As they conducted interviews throughout the village, it became apparent that the only travelers who arrived were the businessman, his seemingly competent male secretary, the gentle female tutor, and the son. No witnesses reported seeing any unfamiliar individuals. Additionally, the description provided by the tutor, the only one who saw the kidnapper and brought the letter, mentioned a stylish man with long, flowing blond hair. The tutor had poor eyesight and happened to not be wearing her glasses at that time, so she couldn’t clearly see his face. They did question the young men in the village who fit the description, but all of them had alibis for that night.

According to the subordinates, there was only one person in the village without an alibi.

“Inspector…”

“…pector.

“If we don’t get a break in this case, the inspector will become a suspect.”

“Hahaha. You’re under arrest!”

They laughed heartily.

Indeed, Inspector Blois was the only one without an alibi.

“Th-There’s nothing I can do! I just arrived in the village and don’t know anyone, so I can’t provide an alibi. Besides, I let my hair down after taking a bath… I am a blond and somewhat stylish. Hmph, no wonder I’m a suspect.”

“Hahaha, that’s a good one.”

“He’s the culprit!”

“All right, enough with the jokes! Go tail the secretary and the tutor. Those two are the only suspicious ones around here.” The inspector crossed his arms. “If the male secretary untied his hair, he would match the description. The female tutor, on the other hand, claimed she saw the kidnapper and was the one who delivered the letter. Considering the snowy road, a man could only go as far as the neighboring village, and a woman wouldn’t be able to go far either, possibly hiding the child somewhere in the village. One of them is probably the culprit, and they’re planning to flee after receiving the ransom.”

“I think so too.”

“I agree.”

“Do you, though? You’re not actually suspecting me, are you?”

And so the two subordinates immediately started tailing the secretary and the tutor.

However, just a few hours later…

The son, who had been locked up in the village church, had managed to escape on his own, and was found tottering along the village road.