It was already afternoon when the three arrived at Anya's condo unit, which was located just a couple of blocks away from Reinhart Tower. Lizzie, of course, was immediately given a tour around the house.
It was a four-bedroom, two-story unit with a spacious living room, a balcony, and a full kitchen and dining area. Anya converted the two rooms on the first floor into a study and a library, respectively.
"This is my room," Anya told Lizzie as they walked up the stairs, gesturing at the first door on the second floor. "Your room will be the one next to it."
They walked a few meters before she opened another door. Inside, the room was cozily finished, with a built-in closet, a desk, and some shelves. A pair of full-length glass doors opened to a small balcony, while another led to a bathroom complete with its own bathtub.
Lizzie gazed longingly at the queen-sized bed and asked, "W-will this really be my room?"
Anya chuckled. "Of course. There are only two bedrooms here and the other one is mine. Where do you think you'll be staying?"
"B-but what about Miss Erica? Where is she staying?"
"Erica has her own apartment nearby," she replied offhandedly.
"Oh."
"Any more questions?" Anya asked amusedly.
"Uhm… a-are you always this… this kind to all your… investments?" Lizzie asked haltingly.
Anya paused and pretended to think. "Maybe? But then again, all my talents can afford to have at least their own apartments. Now stop thinking too much and get some rest. I'll take you out for dinner tonight, okay?"
Lizzie nodded obediently.
"Good," Anya said, patting her head before walking to the door. "I'll see you later."
—-------------------------
The first thing that Gertrude Moore noticed when she woke up was the heat. Her body was drenched in so much sweat that it was the uncomfortable feeling of having her clothes stick to her skin that actually woke her up.
She found herself bound to a chair with her hands tied behind her back and each of her legs tied separately to the chair's legs. It was dark where she was, with only a few streaks of light coming from outside. She guessed it was still daylight and wondered how long she had been unconscious.
Would anyone be looking for her?
That thought gave a bitter taste in her mouth. She thought about her relatives and how they laughed at her being a nanny for almost 40 years without having anything to show for it. When she finally retired more than a year ago with a townhouse to her name and more money than anyone in her family could ever imagine, she made sure to rub it in their faces. And when her brother and his wife came to borrow money to pay for her parents' medications, she laughed at their faces and sent the dogs after them.
Having such animosity between them, who would she expect to look for her?
Ah, but they deserved it for thinking she would never amount to anything in her life. Now, she's rich enough to be kidnapped.
A while later, a door opened, and she was momentarily blinded by the sudden flood of light. A figure entered the room wearing a cloak that hid his entire body and a full mask that hid his face.
The figure stopped a few steps in front of her.
"If it's money you want, I can give it to you," she said proudly. "One million? Two million? As long as you let me go, I'll give it to you. I won't tell the police. You have my word."
A sinister laugh echoed across the room, sending a wave of cold chills down her spine.
"I don't need your money," the figure said. The voice was male, but she couldn't recognize it.
"What do you want, then? I'll give you anything. Just let me go."
"I want information you have."
"Anything! Ask me anything! I'll tell you everything!"
She smiled inwardly. This was even easier. At this rate, if she played her cards right, she would probably be home for dinner.
But the next two words the man said sent a wave of cold chills down her spine.
"Annaliese Reinhart."
She never expected she would hear that name again.
"N-no. I don't know who you're talking about."
"But you do, Gertrude Moore. You worked as the nanny for her youngest daughter for almost 20 years."
"I was only taking care of little Charlize," she said in a hurry. "I know nothing about the madam."
"Lying again, Gertrude? I really don't appreciate having my time wasted."
He placed a gloved hand inside his cloak and brought out a syringe filled with a clear liquid.
"Perhaps a dose of mescaline would jog your memory," he said.
Her eyes widened in fear. "How do you…" She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Panic slowly crept into her voice. "How do you know about that?"
"I know more than you think, Gertrude. What I need from you are the remaining pieces to complete the puzzle."
"I already told you, I don't know anything about the madam!"
He took a step closer.
Gertrude became agitated, taking shallow, hurried breaths. Her eyes darted across the room, looking for a way out."
"You're still lying, Gertrude," he said, taking another step towards her. "This is a concentrated dose of mescaline. A shot of this may cause severe tachycardia. I wonder what would happen if this gets injected into someone like you who was diagnosed with a heart disease."
"N-no! Stop right there! Stay away from me."
Another step.
Tears began to stream down her face. "I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! Just, please, don't kill me," she sobbed.
The man stopped in his tracks but kept the syringe in plain view.
"She told me my job was to become the young lady's nanny," she said in a panic. " All I needed to do was act as her spy. I agreed because I thought it was just something harmless. I swear to god that was all I was supposed to do. And then, the madam suddenly became sick after what happened at the young lady's 18th birthday."
She became hysterical, casting paranoid eyes all around the room, rocking continuously. "It was the doctor. He was the one who told me to mix the mescaline in her tea every morning and afternoon. I thought it was medicine. I only found out what it was after the madam died. I have no quarrels with her. She was kind to us household help. I swear on my life, sir. I didn't kill her!"