To Amelia Prichit,
25/04/1871
Do not be tense in the presence of my grotesque form. I shy away from it just as much as you do. I hate my ugliness, but I love your beauty. One day it will be mine. I apologize; I'm distracting from the real discussion. It does not please me to play you like this, but we have bigger fish to fry. Please maintain your anxiety; we have a topic to discuss. In a day's time, George Albrecht will smuggle many illegal goods in twelve luxury landaus through the Albrecht manor. By capturing this, it will ensure you can receive enough money without the sponsorship of the Albrechts. Furthermore, in three weeks' time, an auction will commence in the den of inquiry. A location close to your murders. I expect to see you, or your father there. Do not let me down. I have a business proposition.
Signed,
The Shadow Son.
_____
"Three Sons, sir; Charlie, Threnody, and Asmodeus Albrecht. But, you said George claims there are only two." Henry fumbled with a hundred sheets of paper while trying to find the official paperwork.
"I remember exactly what he said. The first son is at the Academy of Fine Arts in Nuremberg, and he didn't say much about the second." Detective Roland circled the room.
"There must be three sons; it's on the birth certificate, he signed it. What else could that thing be in the basement?" Amelia pulled a formal sheet of paper of Asmodeus Albrecht's birth certificate with George's signature.
"Any bastards?"
"Well, only the first, Threnody, was born to George's wife, the third is supposedly from a circus lady, and the second is reportedly from a 'good-looking' sex worker." Henry pulls paper out from his looming tower, that threatened to collapse on him.
"Is there potential for forgery? A tax official trying to root for an heir?"
"We compared it to other legal documents. It's George. And that thing is one of his sons," Amelia states, while pushing Henry aside.
"We need to save him. From the vivid descriptions Amelia has told us, he has been locked away for years." Henry argues, looking at Roland in plea.
"No. You didn't see what I saw. That thing is evil, I guarantee it. The way it looked at me. It was disgusting." Amelia puts her hands down on the table to empathize with her point, and to shake Henry.
"Nothing is inherently evil, Amelia; it is the nurture of the creature that defines its nature." Roland fires back.
"Well, this thing wasn't nurtured well. Look at the letter. It knows you and I, despite being locked away." She says while gesturing towards herself and Roland.
"Obviously, it's been out once in a while."
"Amelia, you said you climbed in through a latched well window? Latched from both sides?" Amelia paused and slowly nodded her head.
"From the way it looks, there is no reason for us to save it. It seems this thing can escape itself." Roland deduced.
"Then why does it lock itself in such a place?" Henry could not help but ask.
"Biding time?" Amelia inquires.
"For what?"
"I think it was waiting for us, the murders, the sponsorship it all leads here. George Albrecht did not have to donate to us; he wasn't even a suspect in the murders, yet he did anyway. After that, we were able to uncover some dirty things on him. It would have done him best just to remain quiet."
"Something sinister is at play here. We're walking into a trap; we have to tread lightly." Roland stops circling.
"Get the squad ready for tomorrow. Get the lieutenant ready to notify the shareholders of our moves to prevent collateral damage or any implication on them." Roland readies.
"Sir, the auction?"
"I'll be going."
_____
Thirty policemen surrounded the Albrecht Manor in the bushlands and forests around the house. Lurking, with their stump muskets and long knives. They waited and watched.
Five hundred meters from the fences of the manor, Roland Prichit stood, ready. "Is everyone in position?"
"We're making our last movements now." Amelia into the command tent. Her blond hair tied up behind her, and her blue eyes glowing with expectation for what's to come.
"Good. We better head off." Roland moved out of the tent and towards the Manor with Amelia and Henry in tow.
When they reached near the Manor, they heard the clatter of broken windows and the smash of doors ripped from their hinges.
"George Albrecht, for the illegal smuggling of goods, against the Laws of Germany, you are under arrest!" A voice yelled, as the policeman continued their shuffle around the Manor.
Roland arrived shortly after. The Lieutenant walked from the Albrecht manor.
"That source of yours is pretty good, Prichit. We got the goods. Unfortunately, no one will be going to prison tonight."
"Why so, Lieutenant?" Roland asked.
"Dead. Come with me." The Lieutenant started walking towards the manor with Roland and his posse.
"There were house staff? What of them?"
"Most of the menial staff are compromised. Blunt object to the head. It's a bloody scene." The Lieutenant kept walking.
"The household manager? The figure in the basement?" "Missing."
As Roland walked up the stairs to the foyer, he could not help but feel a foreboding feeling. As he stepped into the room, he glanced at the walls adorned with depictions of suggestive paintings. Positions of nude, delightful men, and alluring women crept around the marble columns.
All covered in blood, and the centerpiece of the room, at the crossroads between all the columns George Albrecht hung from a rope. His face was pale white, a tell-tale sign of asphyxiation. His face was contorted with abject horror, his eyes were bulging as if trying to escape from what he had seen before death. However, that's not what drew Roland's attention.
Along the nude canvas, in blood written.
Take this as my gift. I'll see you at the Auction.
The Shadow Son