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The Lumberjack’s Statement – Part 03

Fwwooosshh!

A smoky smell wafted from the coffee.

Once the fire was extinguished, Inspector Blois lifted his head from the cup and wiped the coffee-soaked drill with a silk handkerchief.

“I was listening to your statement, of course,” he said gravely, wiping his hair. “I now have a firm grasp of the situation.”

“I-I see… Are you all right?”

“This is nothing.”

“Oh. Um, I’m glad to be of assistance.” Gideon looked anxious. “I just feel really bad for the victim. Please find the culprit, Inspector. They can’t get away with it. They mustn’t.” His face clouded. He stood up, looking crestfallen. “Are we done? I can’t go home yet, can I?”

“No. You’re a prime suspect. You will stay here until the case is solved.”

“Okay. I’d be more than happy to help.”

Inspector Blois glanced at Victorique with a hint of worry on his face, a face that was asking if there was anything else she wanted to ask. Victorique did not so much as spare her brother a glance.

Inspector Blois stared at his sister intently.

Eventually, Victorique removed the pipe from her cherry lips. “My brother forgot something.”

“I just burned my hair,” the Inspector said. “What is it? I’m not exactly in the right state of mind, so if I have forgotten something, do point it out. Please.”

He uttered the last word in an incredibly low voice, so that the detectives wouldn’t hear. Victorique was puffing on her pipe coolly, but when she noticed that Kazuya was also staring at her, she reluctantly said, “Luggage inspection.”

Inspector Blois, unable to see up front, nodded as he lifted the drooping drill up with both hands. Before the inspector could give the order, Gideon presented his bag. It was a small, brown suitcase made of fine leather, just big enough for an overnight trip. The pretty, rounded design at the corners made it seem like a woman’s suitcase.

“It’s a little embarrassing, but if it helps with your investigation,” Gideon said.

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Victorique asked.

“There are toys inside. I have a bit of a childish side, and my sister pokes fun at me for it. She would ask why I cared so much about these things. I bet you’d laugh too. Like that one, Inspector.”

Gideon pointed to the small, yellow perfume bottle that the Inspector had taken out from the suitcase. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

“What’s this?” the inspector asked.

“It’s, um, my mother’s. I have a lot more of her stuff, but that one is the smallest and the prettiest, so I always carry it with me.”

“Hmm. What’s this?” Inspector Blois picked up something that looked like a dead earthworm.

Gideon gasped. “Sorry. I picked that up in the woods last week. Picking up dead insects and putting them in my bag is a habit I’ve had since I was a kid, and I still haven’t gotten over it. I mainly use them to scare my sister.”

“What a mean brother,” Victorique interjected.

Inspector Blois shot his sister a hateful glare. “I know a horrid sister who scares her brother to death,” he mumbled softly so the detective wouldn’t hear. “Using her Wellspring of Wisdom, she’s able to guess everything correctly like a demon, shortening the life span of her dear brother by a hundred years.”

Victorique blew on her pipe nonchalantly. “If I shortened your life by a hundred years, you’d be dead by now, Grevil. Not that I would mind that.”

A dark and heavy atmosphere filled the room. Gideon’s gaze darted around uneasily.

Inspector Blois put his hand in the suitcase again. A small collection of items came out. “What is this?” he mumbled, putting them all on the table. Gideon looked terribly ashamed.

There was a scrap of paper with the words “Don’t look back” scribbled on it.

“Oh, that’s uhh… There was this cute girl in college who turned me down quite hard recently. So I, uhh… wrote that to remind myself.”

A tiny portrait showing a boy standing in a forest.

“It’s a sketch from my childhood,” Gideon said proudly.

“Why a portrait and not a photograph?”

“We have more portraits than photos.”

“I see. Must be the ‘taste of the past’ thing that’s trending lately.” Inspector Blois nodded.

With the advancement of science, more and more people had been taking commemorative photographs, buying photos of actresses, while among the aristocracy there was a trend of hiring expensive painters to draw medieval-style portraits of them. While others were excited about new technology, some valued old customs, both sides coexisting.

Inspector Blois laid out the contents of the suitcase on the table—from textbooks to clothes, with some strange trinkets mixed in.

“How do I put it,” the inspector muttered with exasperation. “This looks like a certain kind of lady’s handbag. Random knick-knacks that god knows what they’re used for, a portrait of a boy, but nothing I would consider a necessity. You’re like a ditzy lady who forgets her handkerchief, her wallet, and the house keys so she gets locked out.”

“That’s why I said it was embarrassing. I agree with you, but it’s hard to get rid of habit.”

Gideon turned bright red and started tossing the items back into the suitcase. Narrowing her eyes, Victorique watched him with great interest.

“Are we done?” the young man asked.

Inspector Blois turned to his sister for affirmation. Victorique gave a faint nod, pulling her well-shaped chin back.

“Yes,” the Inspector declared confidently. “You may wait in the waiting room.”

“Okay.”

Gideon bowed gracefully, suitcase in hand, and left the room. Kazuya stared at his face. Gideon had smiled when he thanked Inspector Blois, but as soon as he turned his back, his innocent smile faded.

His face was dark and drawn. He looked like he was hiding something. Curious, Kazuya followed Gideon with his gaze. When the door closed, he turned to Victorique.

Victorique also watched Gideon’s back with sharp eyes. She kept staring at the closed door for a while, smoking her pipe.

“Now, then.” Inspector Blois struck a pose, raising one leg, and snapped his fingers. “Next witness. Who will it be? Let’s hear what my lovely sister has to say. Not that we need to, of course. It’s just my way of, uhh, spending time with family! My dear sister, are you listening?”

Victorique yawned.

“You need to be more serious,” Inspector Blois hissed.

“It doesn’t matter which card you choose,” Victorique replied. “The order doesn’t matter. But… I am curious about a ‘sky filled with seawater’. Call the Empress next, Grevil.”

“So the lady’s next.” Inspector Blois nodded and gave the order to the detectives. “Go get the middle-aged lady.”

---

A short while later, the door opened, and a calm-looking middle-aged woman, whom they had met in the compartment of the Old Masquerade, entered. She was the one who, along with the murdered dark-haired girl, had helped Victorique and Kazuya up onto the train.

She staggered a few steps, so one of the detectives lent her a hand and guided her to the chair. Whether or not she could see Inspector Blois, who was clearly sporting a weird hairdo, was a mystery; she did not react in any way, neither surprised nor appalled. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else. She sat on the chair, dazed, as though immersed in her own world. She seemed exhausted, like a hunched, elderly woman just waiting for her time to come.

Kazuya leaned forward, astonished. She looked like a different person, not the lively and attentive Empress he had met on the train. He recalled seeing her laughing with a dangerous glint in her eyes when the train started speeding out of control. At that time, the Empress was indeed acting strangely, giving her a threatening impression. But the despondent aura she gave off now was another side that he had not seen before.

What’s wrong with her?

As he gazed at her with concern, the Empress suddenly looked around as if just now noticing that there were people present. She then straightened herself and looked at each of them with an air of both superiority and dignity.

Her eyes were bulging, her pupils dilated; it seemed as though the reddish-black capillaries would burst at any moment. She had the unmistakable look of a madwoman. Kazuya shuddered.

Was she always a lunatic? I didn’t notice at all while we were together.

A lunatic, or…

If it was an act, it was one worthy of an award. She had the face of a very skilled actress. Which was it? The room was filled with an odd tension. No one spoke; everyone just stared at the bizarre middle-aged woman, watching her closely as to not miss a single move.

With all eyes fixed on her, the Empress, pale-faced and eyes bulging, gracefully laid her palm on the Bible a detective held out to her. “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” she mumbled.

Inspector Blois cleared his throat. The strange atmosphere had put him on edge. The drooping drill on his head was quivering.

An odd silence reigned in the room, and no one said a word.

“Well, then.” Inspector Blois broke the silence. His voice was trembling. “We’ll start from your name. Then tell us what happened on the Old Masquerade in detail.”

“That won’t be a problem,” the lady replied magnanimously.

She looked around the room and gave a grateful nod to everyone present. Despite wearing only a plain blouse and skirt, with no make-up, she carried herself like she was a different person.

Opening her pale lips, a passenger of the Old Masquerade, a middle-aged woman they had met at the bizarre masquerade ball, spoke.

“My name is Britannia Gabriel Coco de Krehadl,” she began in a proud, high-pitched voice. “I am the Empress of the Kingdom of Krehadl, located northwest of Lithuania. But you all already know that, of course.”