Chapter 8
“Could someone… have started the fire to cover that up?”
“I don’t know,” Ash replied calmly. “It’s hard to believe someone would burn down a house just to hide a theft.”
“Then what are you saying? That a thief broke in right before the fire, but it has nothing to do with the case?”
I half-argued back, pretending to be the grieving victim while trying not to look away from his sharp gaze.
“I do think it’s too much of a coincidence,” he admitted. “Once I dig deeper, sure enough something will connect.”
He spoke as if anything was possible, but his attitude said otherwise—like he already had a conclusion in mind.
But his questions did not stop there.
“One last thing. About the identities of the people who died in the accident.”
“Didn’t you already confirm all of that?”
“I just want to check once more,” he said steadily.
“First, the Baron and Baroness. My condolences.”
“Thank you…”
“And then one male and one female servant found on the second floor, one maid found on the first floor, and finally the coachman who escaped but died afterward. That is what we have recorded.”
I nodded.
The maid who died on the second floor was probably Rosalyn.
Ash studied me quietly before asking:
“I find the two servants who died in your room… very strange. A maid going into the young lady’s room is possible. But why would a footman be there?”
I froze.
Now that he said it—why would a male servant enter Rosalyn’s room? Even Baron Thesis hardly ever went inside.
“I-I… don’t know.”
“And the maid we found inside your room is presumed to be Emma Hampton. How could a fired servant enter your room?”
My head spun.
I wasn’t the one who died there—Rosalyn was.
Her being in her room made sense.
But the footman—why was he there?
Wait. Footman… footman… no way, could it be—?
I suddenly remembered something.
The morning after the first party, Rosalyn had stood on the staircase landing, whispering and giggling with someone.
The person she spoke with had been the footman sent from the Browe household.
I remembered clearly—he was handsome in the way wealthy estates always seemed to hire their servants.
Back then, I thought she was just flirting stupidly.
Maybe it really had been nothing.
But after being humiliated at the party, Rosalyn had looked strangely cheerful the next day.
If something had started between them…?
If the two shared forbidden feelings…?
If they had even died together in a lovers’ suicide…?
A chill ran up my neck at the thought.
No, I can’t jump to conclusions. I might just be connecting dots that aren’t there.
Letting Ash see me rattled would not help me.
“I have no idea. Maybe Emma barged into my room to harm me, and the footman chased her in to stop her… I honestly don’t know.”
I let my eyebrows droop and shook my head helplessly.
“I don’t know what happened in the manor that night, but something was definitely different. I sincerely hope you uncover the truth, Lieutenant McCallen.”
“This doesn’t feel like a simple case,” he muttered. “But it’s difficult to find a clear lead.”
Good. I hope you never find one, I prayed silently.
I hoped this case would fade into silence forever.
“But I’ll do my best,” he continued. “So… please be patient with me if I ask for your help repeatedly.”
“What? What do you mean… ‘be patient’?”
“You’re the only survivor who stayed in that townhouse. That means… the only person who can answer my questions is you.”
…What?!
My instinct had been right.
He wasn’t just difficult—he was persistent and dangerous.
“You’re the only survivor.”
“You’re the only one who can answer my questions.”
What else could that mean except:
You’re the most suspicious. Don’t try to escape.
Most investigators would hesitate to suspect a noblewoman who just lost her parents.
But not Ash.
“A-ah… of course! I’m grateful you’re putting so much effort into the case.”
I forced a bright, innocent smile, hoping to look pure and harmless.
I had no idea what made him so suspicious of me, but I could not afford to slip up.
***
When Ash left the Browe estate, there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
For the last ten days, his boss—Superintendent Linberk—had avoided assigning him back to this case.
Even after Inspector White’s human-trafficking case had enough staff, Linberk still refused.
The reason is obvious. Astreed, the Chief Superintendent, evaluates Linberk’s performance.
And it was well known that Astreed was pushing hard for his nephew’s promotion.
As time passed, evidence and witnesses were disappearing.
Ash finally confronted Linberk directly.
“Please assign me back to the case.”
“That fire case? Just organize the paperwork you got from Sergeant Fidello and submit it. Focus on helping Inspector White instead.”
“So you’re admitting you assigned me a dead-end case on purpose?”
“N-no, that’s not what I—! I just thought it’d be easier for you—”
“It’s not easier. And I also have a reputation to maintain within my family.”
At the word family, Linberk immediately shrank back.
Ash disliked using his family name like a threat, but if that’s what it took to get the case back, so be it.
Easy case? Idiots.
To those fools obsessed with office politics, this fire looked like a simple five-page report.
But to Ash, it was a strange case filled with questions.
Rosalyn Thesis… society seems very interested in her as the unmarried heiress.
Rumor said the Thesis family didn’t have much money.
But marrying her meant earning the barony immediately.
Impatient second sons and third sons with no succession rights would definitely find that tempting.
Even Ash’s second brother, Carl, had joked about it after the party.
“Ash, aren’t you handling the case where her parents died? Use that as an excuse and get close to her. Maybe you’ll get a title out of it.”
His tone was mocking, but the joke wasn’t entirely a joke.
Unlike their eldest brother Joel, who would inherit everything, Carl—an illegitimate younger brother—would be annoyed by a half-brother like Ash who shared the inheritance.
So Carl said things like Don’t overstep. Don’t interfere with the noble titles, pretending he was joking.
Ash did not hesitate to respond.
“It’s hard to introduce a potential suspect to you, brother. Try someone else.”
“What? No, I didn’t mean I—!”
“Anyone else would be the same. If you want, try approaching the Browe household instead.”
Then Ash simply walked away.
So Rosalyn Thesis isn’t good enough for Carl?
Ash almost laughed aloud.
If anything, she seemed capable of toying with Carl if she wanted.
Thinking back on that moment, Ash smirked and pulled out his notebook.
He reviewed the Central Bank records for the Thesis account.
On May 19, eight hundred thousand gilden was withdrawn.
After that, the account balance was zero.
The bank clerk had explained:
“Baron Adam Thesis withdrew a large amount shortly before his death. But the money supposedly burned in the fire. The insurance company is refusing compensation because the actual loss can’t be confirmed.”
“So Miss Rosalyn suffered a major loss,” Ash said.
Society saw her as a rising heiress, but realistically she was probably under tremendous financial pressure.
The Browe couple might help her to some degree, but they weren’t close enough family to endlessly supply money.
So what was Rosalyn Thesis doing now, under such circumstances?
The question had nagged at him so much that he decided to visit her unannounced today.
If she was financially stable, that meant she had gained a hidden source of money—which could link back to the case.
But after today’s meeting, Ash believed one thing:
Rosalyn is innocent—financially, at least.
When I mentioned the missing jewels, she didn’t recognize the issue at all until I explained it.
If she were obsessed with money, she would’ve remembered immediately.
Instead, she hadn’t even considered it.
But there was something else…
When the topic turned to the victims… she avoided my eyes for the first time.
