Serravalle fell into the fountain with the gems in his small clutch bag. Cloette smiled at him and a cloak wrapped around her body, compressing into a small bird. It flew away to the moonlight, and it saw the location where the murders took place; the patterns on the garden floor looked like the petals of an echeveria strictiflora. Thorns at the edge of each petal from the persistent succulent. It could only be viewed from the skies above to witness the intricate murder.