"With no eyewitnesses and no murder weapon left at the scene, the only clue we have now is the 'k' organization's pattern of relating the crime to the victim's name. As for the victim's information, it was stolen through an agency. We only know the letters 'e' and 'n' so far—tell me, what clues do we have?"
A knock interrupted their discussion, and Captain Kappa entered. "Sorry to disturb, but we have the third case."
Following him were two men dressed in the typical attire of construction workers: dark dungarees with front pockets and straw safety helmets, their clothes stained with white lime, fear etched on their faces.
Emma recognized them immediately.
"What are you two doing here? Cause any more trouble, and you'll be visiting the police station again?"
The men exchanged looks before the more quick-witted one spoke up. "No, no, Ruby's dead. We wouldn't dare mess with you again."
"What do you mean 'your partner is dead'?"
"Yes, he didn't show up for work this morning, so the foreman sent us to check. We knocked and got no response, peeked through the window, and saw him lying on his bed, not moving, with his left hand missing. Miss, please spare us; the one who touched you is gone, and we both have families to think of."
"You think I killed him?"
"No, no, we wouldn't say that."
Elyon intervened, "Let's stop the back-and-forth here. For once, the crime scene is still intact; we should go take a look. You two, come with us, and don't look at me like that. The money from yesterday was mine to pay back."
The men then noticed Elyon sitting on the bench. They gave a wry smile and said, "So you really are a cop, but we don't have the money to pay you back."
"Just take us to the scene and answer any questions you can, and we won't ask for the money."
"You're a generous man, sir."
"Let's go, Emma. How many can your carriage seat?"
"Four in the cabin, and one more can squeeze in with the coachman."
"Then, Bell, bring paper and pen; we have just enough people."
Stepping out of the office, the near-noon sun warmed their faces. Elyon waved to the coachman and climbed into the carriage. Soon the door opened, and Emma and Rita, along with a worker, squeezed in.
"Where's Bell?"
"You just needed someone to take notes, right? I can do it as well as he can. I write fast and accurately, not like your rambling notes," Rita turned away as she spoke, avoiding Elyon's gaze.
"You coerced him, huh? Well, it's his pit to dig himself out of. Coachman, we're ready to go."
After about 20 minutes, they arrived at the crime scene—a street of low wooden houses with dirty water running through the gutters. Emma pinched her nose as she descended from the carriage, while Rita leaped out, eager to explore. The workmen from the report pointed at a somewhat run-down house.
"Ruby lived here."
Elyon tried the door but it didn't budge. He peered through the half-papered window and saw a man lying motionless on the bed, his left arm severed, his face covered by a familiar white paper. It resembled the previous cases.
"Who knows the landlord? Get him here with the keys."
One of the men who had tried to sneak attack the other night hurried to the only stone building on the street. Minutes later, a grumbling old man clutching a ledger and a set of keys emerged. Seeing the luxury carriage and the crowd by the door, he grew silent, then approached with a smile.
"Officers, what can I do for you?"
Elyon pointed to the door. "Your tenant has likely been murdered. Please open the door."
Hearing this, the landlord's face turned anxious. "Officers, please don't speak carelessly. A house where death occurred can still rent out for a bit less, but a murder house is cursed. It's hard enough for an old man like me to make a living off rent. The income from a cursed house wouldn't even cover maintenance costs."
Elyon laughed, incredulous. "Your windows are in ruins, and you're worried about maintenance? Open the door quickly, or I'll invite you for tea. This lady is a reporter from the Aegisburg Daily. If she writes about a murder at one of your rentals, I'm afraid you'd have to halve the rent for all your properties."
The old man fumbled with his keys, inserted one into the lock, turned it, and tried to push the door. It didn't move. He said awkwardly, "It must be bolted from the inside. The lock turned, but there's a bolt inside. Damn Ruby, causing trouble even in death."
Emma almost lost it. "You heartless landlord, your tenant is dead, and you show no compassion?"
The landlord glanced at Emma, a figure who clearly didn't look like a police officer but whose attire was undeniably expensive. He whispered, "You're right, miss. I spoke out of turn."
Elyon examined the window and door, both securely locked from inside. The focus was the body. Lying face up, Ruby's eyes were wide open, his mouth agape as if he had been trying to scream. His left arm, along with the sleeve of his shirt, had been cut off at the shoulder, and some blood had trickled down the side of the bed. Elyon checked the body; aside from the obvious wound, there were no other injuries, and the door key was still in the pocket of Ruby's pants.
"Is this the only entrance to the room, and do you have any carpenters who could make a door? How much would that cost?"
The landlord quickly replied, "Just these two entrances. For a carpenter, I could pay one shilling a day, and a simple door wouldn't take more than half a day. As for materials, a piece of common pine this size would be about two shillings, I reckon."
Elyon handed over two notes and eight copper coins. The landlord looked confused as he took the money.
"Sir, what's this for?"
"For compensation, at the rates you mentioned. Everyone, step back."
Still dazed, the landlord moved back at the urging of the two workmen. Elyon eyed the wooden door and delivered a solid kick at the level of the lock.
With a loud bang, the door fell inward, revealing a gaping hole.
"Let's go inside. Landlord, you might want to wait outside. We'll let you know when we're done," Elyon instructed as he surveyed the modest room: a bed occupying half the space, and a table, stove, and cauldron filling the rest. The window was locked tight from the inside, and the door had been bolted the same. The body was the main concern; Ruby was lying face-up on the bed. Elyon removed the paper covering his face, revealing a capital 'R'. Ruby's eyes were wide open, his mouth agape as if trying to utter a final word. His left arm, along with the sleeve of his shirt, had been cleanly severed at the shoulder, a few drops of blood staining the bed and the floor beneath. No other wounds were visible, and the key to the door was still in the pocket of his pants.