Sprawled out across the floor, lying in his blood, was Ambrose.
Dorothy stood against the wall as if the centre of the room had collapsed and opened a deep hole to endless darkness. Her hand was clasped against her mouth, she was seconds away from throwing up.
"James! Get the poor woman out of here!" Jamie ordered.
James swiftly but gently swooped to Dorothy's aid, and helped her out the room.
"This makes no sense," Jamie murmured, he didn't like that there were now two deaths on his hands.
"Why kill Ambrose?" I questioned, "he was the most suspicious one."
"Just like his father, he knew something. He was hiding it during the interview, he was tapping his finger on his knee and his feet wouldn't stop jolting about."
Jamie crouched down over the body and saw that Ambrose's neck had been punctured. Like a thick needle had harpooned him like a fish. He continued to examine the body as I, like Dorothy, stood in shock. I wasn't extremely close to Ambrose but I knew him more than my father, I couldn't say I didn't feel a tinge of sadness. Although Ambrose was a sly git he had moments of kindness, unlike Sterling. I stood staring at the body, like my mother, I couldn't take my eyes off it.
Jamie slid his hand into Ambrose's pocket. With a rustle, he pulled out a piece of scrap paper.
"It's a note from Ambrose," Jamie announced gravely as he started to read the scrawny writing, "I am sorry for what I have done. May The Ascendants forgive me."
Jamie didn't seem pleased. He wasn't sad, more annoyed.
"Are you okay?"
He didn't answer. That's when you knew he was in a mood.
"Didn't he have a watch on?"
Jamie lifted Ambrose's bare wrist.
"Yeah, he usually wears one."
James then entered the room once more. In that short gap of time, he had brewed a coffee for Dorothy and had given the news to the rest of the house.
"James look for the bullet. Alice, may I have one of his letters?"
I passed him the most recently written, it was about signing up for a role in The Great Pigsby. Ambrose was denied of course they found his voice was too obnoxious. Jamie put the letters side by side, the difference was instantly noticeable.
"This wasn't written by him." Jamie got up from the ground. "For starters, Ambrose is left-handed, not right, and secondly…how did the gun get on the table?"
I turned to find the revolver just lying on the oak table, bathing in the spring sun. How didn't I see it? Cleanly polished, looking almost untouched. Next to it was an empty pen stand.
"My father's fountain pen!" I exclaimed, "Somebody's taken it!"
"First the watch, now the pen. This is staged, poorly staged but staged nonetheless. It's almost like the killer, our thief of unusual items, is testing my patience."
Jamie picked up the revolver and cracked open the wheel where the bullets should've been.
"Strange. Very strange," He muttered, contemplating his next move.
"What?" I asked.
Jamie passed the revolver to me, there were no bullets in it.
"They could've emptied it."
"No, this was rushed," Jamie stated, knocking his finger against a wall.
"What makes you think that?"
"The body's still warm. Also, the gun couldn't have been used here, this wall is too thin, we would've heard it go off just like the scream."
Jamie was right, originally my room was a part of the study before my father insisted on putting in the wall, and as he was short of money at the time the wall had to be thin.
"So there are two theories. One he was shot in a different room and then dragged into here. Hastily, the gun and the note were then planted with him."
"Or?"
"Or the gun was never used. I find it weird the bullets were taken out after firing. Unless no bullets were used at all."
"But the wounds on Ambrose's body suggest it was used."
"It suggests something went through his neck, clean through as well by the way." Jamie picked up the gun once again and looked at it closely. "With this type of gun, you'd have to be quite close for the bullet to go fully through. It's vintage."
Jamie threw it up in the air for me to then catch it, he never liked trinkets.
"How is it that clean if it was used? From that range, it would be covered in blood and if it was quickly cleaned there'd probably be some sort of stain. It looks fresh out of the factory. Plus, James seems to have not found the bullet yet, have you James?" Jamie stated.
James jumped and bumped his head. He was currently on his hands and knees looking under a cart full of spirits that my father used to drink. It was unlucky he didn't smash one of the decanters, it would've made it even funnier.
"Okay, then what went through his neck then, brainiac?" I replied, sarcastically.
"Now you're asking the right questions," Jamie stepped towards the bookcase, which stood grandly next to the table we found the revolver on. "As this is your father's study there must be something here about the mythology he was obsessed with. And if mythology is involved, anything could be possible. Did your father know these were in the wrong order?" Jamie asked, pointing at the books on the shelf.
"He never let anyone touch them, it was his bookcase. And his bookcase alone."
Only Jamie Croft would get bothered by books being in the wrong order at a murder scene.
"Someone who was obsessed with myth. Should know that Dalli came before Valli."
For those of you who don't know the Ancient trilogy of King Krygon. The three novels Dalli, Valli, and Zalli are about the mythos of The Andrina Isle. Dalli was about The Ascendants and other gods, Valli was about the forming of The Isle and Zalli was about the days before The Great Wars. Good reads but very lengthy.
Jamie lifted himself slightly to reach the book of Dalli.
"Unless…"
He pulled the book and with a sudden jolt, the bookcase began to shudder. Slowly, it opened to reveal a hole with a ladder. Dusty but sturdy the ladder plunged into the dark sea below.
Jamie glanced at me with a cheesy grin, I couldn't help but smile back. Although this mystery was drenched in death, I was beginning to love it.
We ventured down the ladder for what felt like hours until we found ourselves in a greenish-lit room. It was cold like a cellar, a little damp (thanks to the number of storms we had last winter) with cavernous, bumpy walls and an uneven floor. It smelt musty like the yellow pages of an old book and was dimly lit by oil lamps wearing cobwebs, like dresses.
In a corner was a wooden chair and table, covered in documents. Some were yellowed, some were damp, and some had thick blankets of dust on them.
"Well, isn't this dandy?" Jamie said, staring at the large Isle map that hung above it all. On it, there were markings, circled areas, and tea mug stains (my father did enjoy his tea).
Unlike the modern map of The Andrina Isle, this one had names of villages I didn't recognise. It also had marked in big gold lettering Cruslion.
"I thought Cruslion was a mythical place. Kind of like Atlantis," I uttered.
Jamie glared at me. "How many times do I have to tell you myth is closely related to history on The Isle? In this world, where dragons soar on the North coast, where werewolves roam in The Dark Forest, with goblins tinkering in the south and wizards sitting in the middle of it all playing cards. How can you not believe in myth?"
"I've never met a wizard before or a goblin or anything like that."
"Trust me they exist. So does Atlantis. I've been there."
"What?"
Jamie ignored me and started rummaging through the paperwork.
"Now there must be something he-"
His words trailed off as he noticed several vials filled with a red liquid hiding in an open suitcase beside the table. Jamie, without hesitation, lifted up the leather suitcase and dropped it onto the table. The bag itself must've endured endless trips through the ages as the handle nearly fell off. Opening it back up, Jamie carefully lifted a vial and brought it into the light.
"What is it?"
"Blood. Each one is filled with blood."
Jamie took out the other 5 vials and found underneath something that shook me even more than when I found out about my father's death. Jamie's upper lip stiffened.
"It's an adoption certificate. Your adoption certificate."
Jamie passed me the certificate but I couldn't take it from him. My heart stopped. I couldn't feel my legs, my feet, my hands, my eyes. I couldn't believe it.
He lied to me.
All my life I had been lied to. I grasped the certificate and slowly took a glance at it. ALICIAN LIONSTRING. It was definitely my name. I fell back into the chair, my legs couldn't hold me much longer.
"I guess you didn't know, did you?" Jamie said, softly.
I shook my head in reply. There was a moment of silence before…
"Thank The Ascendants, I'm not a Lionstring!" I exclaimed, "I knew I wasn't related to them."
Jamie lifted another two pieces of paper from the case that now lay bare.
"Your father got married twice?!" Jamie stated, shocked, staring at the two certificates. I just rolled my eyes.
"Yes. And both times to Nicole. There was a rough period in the relationship so they split up. At that time, apparently Jon (I wasn't going to keep calling him my father) met my mother. He said she died during childbirth. What a load of-"
"Alice," Jamie interrupted, softly, "He adopted you for your blood. Nicole might've known that might be why she doesn't treat you like the other siblings. Well, sibling."
"It's obvious now. But why? Why would he want my blood?"
"Your birth defect perhaps? Maybe it's not what you think it is?"
Jamie combed through the documents. Some were profiles of gods, others strange remedies for demons and he even came across the odd shopping list. He soon found something that caught his eye.
"What?" I questioned, as I saw Jamie's face melt into an intriguing smoulder. He turned the paper to show me in big black lettering scratched in the page with pencil lead.
NEED BOOKS ABOUT POSSESSION!
"The scratches!" Jamie exclaimed.
"It wasn't a sign of paranoia at all!" I added.
"It was a sign of possession!" we both exclaimed in sweet unison.
That eureka moment gave Jamie a sudden burst of energy, his eyes shone like stars as he darted around like his coattails were on fire, grabbing the odd document and graph and stuffing them in his large pockets.
"So is that the secret? Did Percival know that my father was possessed?" I asked, watching Jamie hurriedly take the crusty map of The Andrina Isle off the wall.
"I don't know," he grunted in reply, "maybe. Probably. There might be an affair involved."
"Why'd you say that?"
"Because…"
Jamie was too busy looking at the vials of blood.
"Because?"
"Because he trusted him more than anyone. More than your stepmother, well, Nicole. Either he was a very trusted friend or more than that."
Struggling to fit the vial in his pockets, he glanced back at me.
"And take this, will you?" he happily chirped.
Before I could even respond, he threw the vial at me. Luckily, I caught it. He knew I would.
"Why do we need this?"
"Just in case."
Jamie hurried to the ladder and started to climb it. He then noticed me, I hadn't moved since the revelation.
"Well, come on then. We've got a crypt to explore!"