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Wilson nodded gravely. "And Mr. Richmond here," he gestured to the man's body, "appears to have been stabbed multiple times as well. Our killer must have been incredibly confident to take on both victims simultaneously."
"Or perhaps he got lucky," Finn's eyes narrowed as he spotted a blood splatter near the door, then marched across the room to where a few scattered drops of blood caught his attention. "I think they were killed one at a time."
"Reconstruct it for us," Amelia urged, her interest piqued as she observed Finn's thought process.
"Alright," Finn said, taking a deep breath as he pieced together the sequence of events in his mind. "Thomas was attacked first—stabbed repeatedly until he succumbed to his injuries. Then Lily entered the room later, saw the body, and tried to flee. That's when the killer caught her, striking her on the back of the head with a blunt object. The killer must have been across the room as Lily had time to turn and start running, but the killer was fast."
As Finn spoke, the scene played out like a macabre film reel, the brutal violence juxtaposed against the serenity of the library. Finn could almost hear Lily's panicked footsteps echoing through the room, cut short by the sudden impact of the killer's blow.
"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."
