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"Confident or just insanely lucky," Amelia mused aloud. "And Look here," she continued, her voice firm as she pointed to the position of the bodies. "There is some dust on the floor, most likely from the renovations. See these streaks? Those are drag marks. The bodies must have been moved after the fact to the center of the room."
Finn nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the room for any clues left behind by the killer.
"Placed side by side like this..." Inspector Wilson mused, furrowing his brow. "Why would the killer do that? Remorse, perhaps? Wanting them to be together in death?"
Finn shook his head slowly, his expression darkening. "I doubt it. Max Vilne is known for making a display of his victims. He didn't just kill two people; he destroyed a marriage, a union. This arrangement serves to emphasize that."
“Max Vilne?” Inspector Wilson said. “So you think it's this American fellow who escaped custody?”
“It's just a theory," Amelia said, tempering Finn's expectations. "We shouldn't prejudice ourselves in that direction yet."
Amelia's gaze lingered on the lifeless couple, as if trying to come up with a valid alternative. Finn was feeling frustrated that she wasn't on board with the Vilne hypothesis. Finn felt sure that it must be him.
"Let's consider how the murderer entered the room," Finn now said, his focus shifting as he scanned their surroundings. Moving to the back of the library, he bent down to examine something on the floor near a window. His fingers brushed over fresh flecks of paint, the same blue hue that adorned some of the castle's exterior walls.
"Inspector Wilson, you should have forensics take a close look at this window," Finn instructed, his voice steady and confident. "The killer likely climbed the scaffolding outside and came in through here."
“Some of the forensic's chaps are downstairs,” Wilson said through his bushy mustache. “I'll ask them to come up.”
As Wilson left to relay Finn's observations to the forensic team, Finn's eyes darted to another window in the library, this one overlooking the castle's courtyard. The light filtering in through the stained glass cast a mosaic of colors across the dusty floor, drawing his attention to the intricate patterns. He walked over, taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship before unlatching the window and pushing it open. The crisp autumn air rushed in, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and the faint sounds of the ongoing investigation outside.
Beneath the sill, part of the scaffolding stood.
"Oi, Finn, what are you—" Amelia's words caught in her throat as she watched him stick one leg out of the open window, perched precariously on the edge. Her protective instincts seemingly kicked in, and she took a step towards him, concern etched on her face.
"Relax, Amelia," Finn said, glancing back at her with a mischievous grin. "I'm not about to take a dive. I just want to get a better look at something."
Amelia raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, is so fascinating out there that you're willing to risk life and limb for it?"
"Only one way to find out." Finn's eyes sparkled with excitement, daring her to join him. He shifted his weight, balancing effortlessly on the windowsill as he extended a hand towards her. "I'm going sightseeing. Are you coming?"
CHAPTER FOUR
The chill of the British autumn was keenly felt on the scaffolding where Finn stood, a precarious iron skeleton clinging to the ancient castle walls. His eyes, sharpened by years of attentive training, scanned the structure with a meticulous gaze. Beside him, Inspector Amelia Winters moved with a grace that belied the danger of their surroundings, though she seemed to be the more cautious of the two.
"Look at this," Amelia said, pointing to a twisted rod of metal that seemed almost gnawed upon. "It looks damaged."
Finn crouched, the cold biting through his jeans as he peered over the edge. Below, the ground lay barren of debris—a silent testament to careful planning or swift clean-up. The absence was too conspicuous, given the wreckage Finn observed.
"Amelia, I'm certain this wasn't an accident. This was the intruder's doing. He's broken a piece of scaffolding deliberately, making it look like it smashed a window over there," Finn's voice held a note of conviction, his mind piecing together fragments of the crime like a dark puzzle.
She raised an eyebrow, her silhouette stark against the backdrop of the gray late-morning sky. "Why do you say that?"
"Because," he started, pushing himself up to full height, feeling the weight of his past missteps lending gravity to his theory, "the killer didn't want this to go down as it did. He went to great lengths to hide how he came into the castle. Maybe he wanted it all to look incidental, perhaps he was going to kill the couple and make it look like an accident. Why else try to cover your tracks?"
"You think he tried to cover his tracks and botched it?” Amelia asked, sounding distant. “So let me get this straight, you're saying that the killer's initial plan was to make the broken window look like an accident rather than the work of someone breaking in?" Amelia's voice was calm yet probing, reflecting the wheels turning behind her sharp gaze.
"Exactly." Finn nodded. "But the plot went awry, didn't it? Something happened. I expect he had to come back outside when Thomas appeared unexpectedly, then Thomas either saw him out here or the killer decided to take the opportunity and came in through the nearest one. In any case, the plan went out the window, if you pardon the pun."
"Yeah, it must have," she mused aloud, tilting her head slightly. "Could Lily’s unexpected presence have caused a deviation in the plan, too?"
"Lily..." Finn echoed. "Perhaps the killer wanted to break into the castle and kill Thomas in a way that looked like an accident. I bet that library study was somewhere he often sat at night, and the killer knew that. Maybe he had cased the castle out beforehand, or he had been here before. But it didn't go to plan, Thomas fought back and the killer had to resort to stabbing him. Lily's appearance forced the killer to improvise. It's messy work when plans change last minute. Then the killer moved the bodies together perhaps out of anger. He almost wanted the person who found the bodies to know that he had destroyed their lives and broke the couple apart forever. I wonder if the anger is because they didn't act the way Vilne anticipated. I could see Vilne being angry about that, he prides himself on being a mastermind."
"Possibly" Amelia's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes scanning the expanse below.
Finn could sense that she wasn't entirely buying his line of thought. He had to admit that he wasn't firing on all cylinders. He was tired. He was still struggling physically from the drug Vilne had given him. And the stress was getting to him, despite always trying to crack a joke whenever the opportunity arose.
"Let's keep looking," she then suggested, her tone firm, yet not without a note of encouragement that seemed to beckon him back from the edge of his introspective abyss.
