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The Christmas Truce Murder – Part 03

“I pulled Luke’s arm to try to get us back to our side before the reinforcements noticed,” William went on. “Mitch was worried about Eddie, who was still chatting with Dragline. I remember you grabbing his shoulder and shouting.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yup. You were worried about Eddie because you were close friends.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Mitch hung his head, hiding his expression. William plopped down wearily on the dresser, shaking his head with a sigh.

“We kept glancing back at the young enemy soldiers we had grown close to, and they glanced back at us as they disappeared across the bridge.”

“I heard their voices, William. You heard them too, didn’t you?”

“I did. I will never forget. They waved their hands, saying, ‘Let’s meet again if we survive,’ ‘Let’s talk again,’ ‘We’ll definitely meet again.’ ‘My friend!'”

“Do you remember the captain looking so glum?”

“I do. He grumbled, ‘This is bad. We’ve made Christmas too enjoyable. I’ll be court-martialed.’ ‘I’m going to jail.’ But there was still a hint of a child-like smile on his face.”

“And then reinforcements arrived on their side too. We heard the roar of tanks. The German tanks looked impressive! We couldn’t help but cheer.” Mitch laughed. “Even though they were weapons meant to fight us.”

“Well… We were just boys, after all. Haha.”

“And then the night ended.”

“Yeah.” William nodded.

The cold wind blew. The air, reminiscent of snow, began to chill the surroundings.

“Both sides waited for dawn. And as the morning sun’s rays fell on the bridge’s girder…”

“Uh-huh.”

“The battle over the bridge between the American forces and the German-British Allied forces began.”

A breeze blew through the triangular window of the room on the top floor of the Carousel. The warm air ruffled Victorique’s beautiful white-blonde hair. Kazuya’s jet-black bangs stirred gently.

William was sitting on the dresser, holding his hat in front of his chest. Mitch had also sat down next to him, arms crossed.

“It was a tough battle,” Mitch said softly. “Yohoho!”

“It really was,” William replied. He looked at Kazuya, who nodded back. “The bombing started on both sides. Flames and dust rose everywhere. The reinforcements ran towards the bridge without hesitation, guns at the ready. The white flower fell from my chest pocket and disappeared into the mud at my feet. Then, I heard Eddie singing by my ear, When the cranberry flowers bloom… I’ll go home… because my mother is waiting for me. Then there was another tank shelling from the enemy, and a comrade nearby burst like a blood bag. That’s when the switch flipped. We grabbed our guns, roared, and ran towards the bridge.”

Mitch hung his head and shook it.

“The battle went on for a long time.”

“So, we didn’t know where anyone was, who was alive, or who was dead,” Mitch said.

“That reminds me, where were you back then, Mitch? We parted ways after that without even talking about it.”

“Huh? M-Me? Well, uh…” Mitch hesitated, suddenly looking nervous. “I-I fell off the bridge, h-hit my head, and passed out. They must have thought I was dead, but I was safe.”

William broke into a genuine smile. “Well, that’s lucky! Are you feeling guilty about surviving? You dumb hick.”

“N-No, that’s not it. I…”

“Then what is it? Speak clearly, man. And as for me…”

Mitch turned away with a snort. “You shot Luke. On a whim.”

“I told you, that’s not what happened! Who has whims like that?!” William barked, gripping his hat tightly.

Mitch glared back at him fiercely. William looked away, frowning.

“So, William,” Victorique said tiredly, “what were you doing?”

William cocked his head. “Well, there was a lot of chaos at the end of the battle, so I’m not exactly sure what happened. That’s why I need someone to help piece it together.”

“Hmph. You want someone to reconstruct it for you?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” William shook his head. “I remember seeing comrades and enemy soldiers piled on top of each other, dead on the bridge. American, German, and British uniforms all mixed together. When I looked closer, I saw a heap of bodies with limbs torn off, heads half-blown, and bloody tears streaming from their eyes. As for me, I was lying on my back near the bridge, barely propped up on one elbow. Eddie was lying on his back about five or ten meters away, his head tilted toward me, arching his back. He had a big wound on his cheek, and blood flowed into his eye, creating a stream that ran down his forehead. That’s when I…”

“You shot Luke!”

“I told you! Luke wasn’t there!”

“Bullshit! Eddie said Luke was standing between you two, and you shot him!”

“That’s not what happened!” William roared. “I shot an enemy soldier right in front of me!”

“No, you killed Luke! Eddie saw it. And when the battle ended, Luke’s body was between you and Eddie! Lively, cheerful Luke, killed by a friend.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” William weakly shook his head. “He was wearing a German uniform. I’m sure of it.”

“Um, may I?” Kazuya interjected. “So, you were lying near the bridge, and Eddie was about ten meters away. And in your memory, you shot a man in a German uniform right in front of you.”

“Yeah. I was terrified, thinking I would be killed by an enemy soldier, so I pulled the trigger.”

“But Eddie claimed that Luke was between you two, and you shot him from the front.”

“That’s right!” Mitch affirmed.

“And there’s confirmation that Luke was indeed shot from the front?”

Kazuya took notes while asking questions. Victorique watched him uneasily.

“What?” Kazuya asked.

“You’re already acting like a reporter,” Victorique replied. “You’re so quick too, it’s creepy.”

“I-I’m not. Really?” Kazuya blushed.

“What? You’re a reporter?” William asked.

“I start tomorrow, but I’m still on probation. I actually got hired by the Daily Road.”

Astonished, William said, “So, the girl here is a detective starting today, and you are a trainee reporter starting tomorrow? Did you two just arrive in New York or something?”

“Yes. We arrived at Ellis Island yesterday.”

“Yesterday?!” Shocked, William began scrutinizing Victorique and Kazuya.

“So, Mitch fell off the bridge and passed out, seeing nothing,” Kazuya said, rereading his notes. He lifted his gaze. “Hey, Victorique. I think we need to hear Eddie’s side too. I guess we’ll have to go to the match venue. Then again, an interview right before the match might be tough.”

Victorique was fiddling with her pipe. Color seemed to return to her pale skin. For some reason, she was already growing bored, stifling yawns.

Mitch leaned forward. “This matter has been bothering Eddie and me for a long time. I’m his manager, so I can talk to him about it if you’d like.” He turned to William. “In exchange, you will stop sabotaging us and promise a fair fight.”

“Fine. As long as we find out the truth, I don’t care.”

“You better not be pulling my leg.”

“I’m not. It’s almost time. Let’s head to the venue.”

Just then, footsteps climbed the spiral staircase again, this time light and feminine. Large palm leaves swayed, and red and blue flowers stirred. The sky outside the window was nearing dusk.

“Victorique! Kazuya!”

Ruri popped her head in, her long black hair gleaming. Below her, the cook and then Rokushou peeked in, three heads vertically aligned, looking around curiously.

“Is this a room? What a strange place,” Ruri said.

“Uh?”

“It’s so dreary,” the cook said. “Should I paint a picture on the wall? I’ve got paint with me.”

Kazuya hurriedly introduced, “This is my sister’s family.”

Ruri crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re not seriously going to live here, are you? There’s not even a door. No way! Come stay at the hotel with us.”

“But, Victorique and I…”

“You’re a guy, so you can manage, but Victorique can’t stay here. I won’t allow it.”

“Hold on a second,” William interjected. “You don’t have a place to stay? You must have quite a story.”

Mitch, surprised, added, “Eddie told me about you a bit, but I didn’t know you had nowhere to live. The young lady is in a worse situation than us broke folks.” He turned to Kazuya. “You should take your sister’s offer. We poor folk can only act proud once we’ve had our fill. Yohoho!”

“You should listen to this weird guy,” the cook said.

“Did you hear the weird lady?” Mitch said.

“See, Kazuya? Majority says I’m right. I don’t know who these people are, though.”

“But Ruri…”

William folded his arms. “So, the self-proclaimed great detective is homeless?”

Victorique, casually fiddling with her pipe, leisurely replied, “I’m not troubled by it at all.”

“But it seems the budding reporter is.”

“He’s a bumble head who’s obsessed with securing a job and home.”

“How about this? As payment for solving the case, I’ll refer you to an apartment. Of course, only if you solve it.”

While the topic shifted to the unveiling of the pink long dress Ruri had made for her Victorique, Kazuya said, “Really?”

“Yeah. Though the best I can offer is an immigrant apartment in Brooklyn. I’ll make sure you can afford the rent, of course.”

“Thank you so much!”

William turned his gaze downward. “After the war, I returned home and planned to start a transport business, but I couldn’t get motivated. I got really into boxing, and the next thing I knew, I was a champion. I’ve been living in hotels every day and haven’t gone back to my father’s house in Brooklyn. But I can still pull some strings.”

Kazuya fell silent, thinking to himself, the old folks at the bridge said the same thing. Trayton’s son hadn’t come back home even after the war ended.

Victorique was being dressed in the pink long dress Ruri brought. It had five layers of frills that covered her ankles, with glistening black French lace on the sleeves. Seeing this, Rokushou ran around joyfully.

“It’s time. Let’s head to the Brooklyn Bridge,” William said.

“We can ask for Eddie’s story there too,” Mitch added.

The men shuffled out of the room and hurried down the stairs.

A line of ducklings passed through the corridor, quacking. A huge orange turtle slowly followed. Rokushou, surprised, almost followed them too.

“Being a detective is dangerous, but it’s hard to refuse this case,” Kazuya said worriedly. “Christmas, a legendary night, a murder during battle. Who’s the culprit, and why did they do it? Why shoot their own?”

“Well, I already know most of the truth,” Victorique said in a bored tone.

“What? Just from what they said? No way!”

“But we need confirmation. Meeting Eddie at the Brooklyn Bridge would be interesting. Ah!”

Victorique dropped her pipe, and it clattered against the floor. The ducklings waddled away in a hurry.

Kazuya bent down to pick it up. A gentle smile appeared on his face. He knelt on one knee, looking up at Victorique and handing it to her. Victorique received the pipe in a regal, haughty manner.

“Let’s go, Victorique.”

“Very well.”

“We’ll leave the suitcases here for now.”

“Whatever works for you.”

Victorique and Kazuya descended the stairs with light footsteps.

“Rokushou, what are you doing?”

Ruri, coming up the stairs to find her son, saw Rokushou playing on the floor and picked him up.

She noticed a sign lying around. She read aloud, “Gray Wolf Pastries? No Confection Impossible? Oh, it’s Kazuya’s handwriting. What is this?”

She flipped it over and placed it on top of the dresser.

“Wait, I’m coming!” she called, and gracefully dashed out of the Pony Room.