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The locals turned towards Finn and Amelia, their faces etched with the lines of hard living and harder losses. They seemed momentarily taken aback by the authority in the investigators’ presence. But the real estate agent used the brief lull to compose himself, straightening his tie as though preparing for another round of verbal jousting.
"Very well, inspector," he said with a clipped tone, addressing Amelia directly. "But I expect these... individuals to be handled appropriately."
Finn watched the agent carefully, detecting the underlying tension in his stance, the way his eyes flickered with something more than just indignation. This was a man who was used to getting his way, no matter the cost, and right now, he seemed more concerned with his own status than the gravity of the situation at hand. The question lingered in the air: How much did profit weigh against the value of human life?
Finn felt a little disdain for the man, as he only seemed brave once in the company of police officers, he had been almost cowardly before he knew he was safe. Now, he was being demanding and trying to wield authority. Finn had encountered that kind of a man many times before, and it was not a personality type he admired. It was too slimy to him.
"Handledappropriately," Amelia echoed, her words a promise rather than a mere assurance. Finn respected that about her—the commitment to justice, no matter where the investigation led.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the street, it was clear that this was more than just a simple dispute. It was a clash of values, a community grappling with change, and somewhere in the middle lay the truth about the murders that had brought Finn and Amelia to this point. Finn's most pertinent question that was on his mind, was why were they fighting outside the hospital? Did they know the morgue was there? Did they know the bodies of Lily and Thomas Richmond were only a couple of corridors away?
The air was charged with accusation, the words of the locals sharp as shards of glass against the silence that had befallen the evening. Finn's gaze cut through the crowd, each face a mosaic of bile and anger, as he and Amelia stepped forward, their presence commanding yet non-threatening.
"Everyone, please!" Amelia raised her voice, the note of authority clear, her hands extended in a gesture of peace. "Let's take this down a notch."
The real estate agent, standing firm in the eye of the storm, adjusted his suit jacket with a flick of his wrist. His voice sliced through the unrest, drenched in self-importance. "I am Gregory Harding," he announced, his chin tilting upwards. "I liaise directly with the castle's proprietors. I know it's you people who have blood on your hands—Lily and Thomas were innocent, and I will see justice served!"
Finn scrutinized Harding, noting how his assertion fanned the flames of discontent. The agent's demeanor was more than just professional pride; it was an armor to shield his own interests.
"Gregory, is it?" Finn's tone was calm but edged. "We'll need to discuss your—"
Before Finn could finish, one of the local men lunged forward, his fist arcing towards Harding with the ferocity of a cornered animal. "You won't pin this on us!"
Action erupted. Finn's reflexes, honed from years in the field, snapped like a whip. He caught the assailant's arm mid-swing, twisting it behind his back with swift precision. The man's momentum faltered, and he stumbled, pain etching his features.
"Enough!" Finn's command ricocheted off the stone walls of the morgue. He held the man firmly, controlling his movements.
"Amelia!" he called, without taking his eyes off the subdued attacker.
In fluid motion, Amelia approached, her handcuffs glinting faintly in the waning light. She secured them around the man's wrists with efficiency, her movements unhesitating. "You're under arrest for assault," she stated, her voice devoid of triumph, but laced with resolve.
"Let me go! He's the one tearing our heritage apart!" the man cried out, his voice hoarse with desperation.
Harding straightened his jacket once more, his eyes darting to the restrained figure, then to Amelia. "See to it that he's charged," he insisted, brushing off nonexistent dust from his sleeve as if to rid himself of the altercation's taint.
Finn exchanged a look with Amelia, a silent communication they'd perfected over several case's together. Finn could tell that Amelia was annoyed with the man's tone as much as he was.
“Listen up!” Amelia shouted. “This man is being arrested, anyone else fancy a night in the cells?”
The cacophony from the previously unruly crowd had begun to dissipate, replaced by the sharp clack of boots on pavement as two constables approached with purpose from the hospital.
“Inspector Winters,” Amelia said to them, showing her ID. “Are you with the Richmond investigation?”
"No, ma'am," one of the constables said. "But we're aware of your presence. The hospital is on our rounds because of the A & E. We heard what was happening and thought we'd assist.”
“Thank you,” Amelia said. “Take those two into custody.”
Amelia pointed to the man being restrained and the other burly figure who had been shouting with him.
“This one for assault,” Amelia said. “And the other for a breach of the peace.”
“Wait a minute!” the other man. “I 'aven't done anythin'!”
“Tell you're solicitor that,” Finn said. “There's been a double murder at Richmond Castle, and here you are threatening someone else associated with it. Seems to me, you are a suspect we will need to interview in due course.”
“No!” was all the man could say.
“Take them to Wellhaven Police Station,” Amelia said.
