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Wilson let out a loud laugh. “Haven't changed a bit, Amelia. Give them hell, and don't let them forget it.”
“She gives me hell every day,”Finn replied.
“And would you have it any other way?” Amelia asked as they rounded a corner.
Finn didn't answer. He just smiled at her. No, he wouldn't have had it any other way.
“Through these doors,” Wilson now added, the joviality now replaced by a clear tone of professionalism.
They walked through a large archway and entered a large hall that hadn't been renovated yet. It had all of the charm of an ancestral castle, with swords on the walls, tapestries, and a huge mantel fireplace. The hall no doubt long ago was resplendent with echoes of laughter and clinking glasses, had grown hushed, its ancient stone absorbing the day's grim addition to its history. As Finn and Amelia traversed the threshold, a figure detached himself from the shadows near a tapestry that told tales of battles long since won and lost.
"Inspector Winters, Mr. Wright, this is Mr. Parker," Inspector Wilson said, gesturing towards the caretaker—a man whose face was drawn tight, eyes sunken as though he had seen something terrible and couldn't remove it from his mind.
"He’s been quite cooperative," Wilson added.
"Mr. Parker." Finn nodded, extending a hand that the other man took reluctantly, his grip weak, tremulous.
"Sir," Mr. Parker managed, faltering under the scrutiny of their gazes. Amelia noted the pallor of his skin, the way his hands couldn't find rest, fluttering like caged birds at his sides.
"Could you tell us how well you knew the deceased?" Finn inquired, his tone careful not to pry too harshly into the caretaker’s fragile state.
"Not—uh—not very well, I'm afraid." Mr. Parker swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing awkwardly. "I was kept on by the previous owners, see. The Harringtons. Been here for over thirty years, but the new owners—" His voice cracked, betraying him.
"Did they keep much contact with you? Did you see them often?" Amelia asked, stepping closer. She watched as Mr. Parker's gaze dipped to the floor, fixating on an invisible point between the flagstones.
"Only when necessary," he muttered. "They had their own... way of doing things, separate from how it's always been done here."
"Change can be difficult," Finn offered, his tone neither accusatory nor dismissive as he studied Mr. Parker. The man was a reed in the wind, Finn thought, bending to whichever force was strongest at the time.
"Very difficult," Mr. Parker echoed, voice barely above a whisper.
Finn glanced at Amelia, sharing a silent communication. They were both thinking it: Mr. Parker was more than just a nervous bystander. But what he was exactly remained to be seen.
"Thank you, Mr. Parker," Amelia said gently. "You've been through a shock. How did you find Lily and Thomas?"
“I live in a nearby village, so I usually come up first thing in the morning around 6AM,” the man said, mournfully. “I found them in the library... Well, it was a library, I think Mr Richmond was having it turned into some sort of den.”
Finn observed the man's disdain.
“You clearly didn't like their approach to the castle?” Finn asked.
“Mrs Richmond was fine,” he said. “She wanted to keep the castle as it had always been.”
“How do you know that?” Amelia asked.
“The castle echoes,” he answered. “It's hard to keep secrets if you don't keep your voice down.”
There was quiet for a moment, and in that quiet, Finn studied the man.
“What is it?” Mr Parker asked, responding to Finn's stare.
Amelia's voice cut through the tension like a scalpel, clinical yet not unkind. "Mr. Parker, can you think of anyone who might have wished harm upon Lily and Thomas?"
The caretaker's eyes darted from the polished floor to the grand portraits that lined the walls, as if seeking counsel from the faces of long-dead lords and ladies. His discomfort was palpable. Finn’s gaze narrowed slightly, picking up on the nuance of every shift in Mr. Parker's stance.
"Resentment," Mr. Parker finally murmured, the word hanging awkwardly in the air between them. "There was...resentment in the village and surrounding towns. Not everyone was pleased with Americans owning this place."
"Resentment strong enough to lead to murder?" Finn probed, his mind already sifting through possible motives and suspects. The fact that Lily and Thomas weren't embraced by the community could be an understated way of suggesting deeper hostility.
