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“What is it about the castle that is so special to the people here?” Finn asked. He understood that an old castle had historical importance, but as Parker spoke, it seemed that there was more to it than that.
Parker's eyes lit up. "Have you heard of King Arthur?"
Finn looked at Amelia with a hint of excitement. “As in the mythical king of the Britons?”
“Well,” Parker said. “It depends who you ask, but we believe he was Celtic, and the Cornish people have their roots in that same culture. The castle is said to be built on Arthur's grave.”
“There are several places that lay claim to that,” Amelia added. “We don't even know if he existed or if he was just a symbol.”
“He was a symbol,” Parker continued. “And legend says that when the British Isles are at their darkest moment, about to fall to an outside enemy, that Arthur will rise up to protect us all.”
Finn loved such stories, though he couldn't put much stock in them. However, he understood why others would. “So that's why the castle is so important, it's supposed to be King Arthur's resting place until he is needed again?”
“Look,” Parker said. “I'm not saying I believe all that, just that some do. Even if you don't believe in the idea that Arthur will return—most wouldn't these days—there are so many stories in our folklore that even some academics think that a king was buried here, and that he was the inspiration behind the legend of King Arthur.”
“Is there anything else that makes the castle important?” Amelia asked.
Parker nodded. “Take your pick from history. It was a beacon of hope for people, holding out against any invaders. And it was used during World War II as a place of research for figuring out German codes. That helped us win the war and keep everyone safe. Then, there's the previous owners, all of them had a tradition of opening the castle up to the community, hosting events and gatherings. Thomas Richmond put an end to that. He said he would open the place up again when renovations were completed, but his ideas were deeply frowned upon. Some would say, offensive.”
"So for Thomas, perhaps sometimes the heart must adapt, or risk..." Amelia began, but then paused, choosing her words carefully, "...stagnation."
"Perhaps," Mr. Parker conceded. “But you can also buy something you don't understand. Why buy a castle if you are going to turn it into something else?”
The stony silence of the castle's grand hall was punctuated only by the subtle crackle of the hearth as Finn turned his inquisitive gaze back to Mr. Parker, a furrow of concern etched across his brow. The caretaker seemed diminished somehow, smaller against the vast tapestries that draped the walls, depicting battles long since faded into legend.
"Mr. Parker," Finn began, his voice steady and probing, "was there anyone in particular who took the renovations harder than others? Someone who might have been... vocally opposed?"
"No, not really," Mr. Parker replied, shaking his head, the movement sending a ripple through the thinning strands of his hair. "Just a general annoyance, you understand? It's hard to point fingers when it's the air that's thick with disapproval."
Amelia stepped closer, her shadow merging with Finn's upon the cold stone floor. "Has anything unusual happened recently? Anything out of the ordinary that might help us understand what went on here?"
"Two days ago," Mr. Parker started, hesitantly, "I saw someone. He was taking pictures of the grounds. I chased him off but didn't get a good look at his face." He wrung his hands, the skin reddened from years of labor. "Tall man, dark hair—that's all I remember."
Finn exchanged a knowing glance with Amelia, the corners of his eyes tightening. Max Vilne was tall, dark-haired, and had an uncanny ability to be both present and invisible. Could he be lurking so close, orchestrating chaos once again?
“Was that out by the woods out front?” Finn asked.
“Yes,” Mr Parker replied sounding surprised. “How do you know that?”
“We found something there,” Finn said, not wanting to commit any other information.
"Thank you, Mr. Parker," Amelia said softly, her hand briefly touching the caretaker's arm in a gesture of comfort. "You've been very helpful."
As they moved away, each step felt like a descent into a deeper enigma, the castle's oppressive atmosphere clinging to them as if loath to let go. Finn's mind raced, piecing together fragments of information, the image of a tall, dark-haired figure behind the lens of a camera slowly sharpening into focus. Max Vilne's specter seemed to stretch across the countryside, and Finn could feel the net of the killer's game drawing tighter around them.
Mr Parker looked forlorn and turned to stare at the fire. “I didn't like what the Richmonds were doing. But no one deserves... That...”
He put his head in his hands as though trying to wipe away the image of seeing both murdered bodies.
"Your assistance has been invaluable, Mr. Parker," Finn said, extending a firm handshake to the shaken caretaker whose eyes still echoed the horror of his gruesome discovery. “It can be hard seeing what you did.”
“We can get you referred for some counseling through your GP if you like?” Amelia offered, softly.
“No... No, I'll be fine.”
“Again, thank you,” Finn said, feeling sorry for the man.
"Anything to help get to the bottom of this dreadful business," Mr. Parker replied, giving a slight nod as he accepted Finn and Amelia's wordless expression of thanks—a subtle tilt of Amelia's head acknowledging the weight the man carried as the bearer of bad news.
