Tuesday, June 14th...
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The sedan pushed through the lush foliage. Through the front window of the car, two individuals of different genders could be seen, each with a different mood. A man leaned against the car seat, wearing a skeptical expression.
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"A ghost? I thought you had the wrong person, Mademoiselle Madelaine," he said, pressing a button as his back pushed the car seat, rotating it 180 degrees.
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Meanwhile, the woman in control of the steering wheel took the opportunity to hand over several sheets of printed information, using her left arm.
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The man was trying to force himself to be interested. His lazy eyes grew slightly tired as he looked at the typed text.
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"I never expected this 'great one' to look like a bull. Don't you feel special, having a woman pick you up in the morning for a stroll, Cake?" Her tone was polished and charming, meant to encourage the man beside her.
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"How many times must I endure repetitive and annoying clichés? Unplanned invitations, instead of going for a walk... a beautiful woman as a chauffeur, even though I never asked for one in the first place... an attitude that seemingly has no reason but secretly wants something... mocking me to provoke a reaction. Well, what's the point?" The man with koala-like eyes expressed his protest while forcing himself to read the contents of the papers.
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"Oh, don't be like that, you make me feel bad! Besides, you look free. Am I mistaken?" She swiftly folded the papers and threw them behind her.
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"Well, your conclusion is too quick. No shop owner is idle unless they're sick and need to rest. The problem lies with you. Do all the countesses in France have no activities to the point of joining Scotland Yard?" The confident-looking woman, who had deliberately changed her shampoo for 300 pounds and even allowed a professional salon to take care of her long black hair, which ironically had little effect.
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"Oh? How polite..." Her calm tone contained a hint of sarcasm. Madelaine suddenly hit the brakes with a feeling of annoyance.
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#Dooong!
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The man called Cake's head hit the car dashboard.
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"Ouch, what are you doing, Viking woman?" He immediately rubbed his forehead, his groan met with a faint smile of mockery.
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"Do you always treat your female friends like this?" She applied the brakes as if ignoring it further, opening the car door. "We've arrived, get out."
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The car stopped in the middle of a semi-forest area with a grassy field on the left. A constable was waiting by a small gate. His gaze became somewhat frozen as he looked at the woman in a tight white turtleneck shirt and a black leather jacket who had just gotten out of the car. But when his gaze shifted to the man holding his forehead, confusion appeared on his face.
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"Don't worry, he's my personal assistant, Moncef Carmel Keymark," she handed over her identification card from her black leather jacket.
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"Please, Miss Madelaine," he replied, returning the identification card before leaving.
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The woman named Madelaine looked back, wondering why the man was just standing there near the car.
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"Don't you have legs, Cake?" she said, removing her red transparent glasses.
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"I do. But I have no intention of taking a step," Cake replied, although he did the opposite.
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They stepped onto the natural path, accompanied by the tall grass that brushed against their bodies. A grand and majestic building stood before them, exuding a mystical aura. The police tape wrapped around it added a dynamic element, catching the attention of journalists. However, Cake, the lazy man, completely rejected the critical idea that ghosts were the culprits behind the tragic events.
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A short-statured woman greeted them with a thin smile, her eyes as sharp as a knife.
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"Good afternoon." She extended her hand for a handshake, quickly turning her head. "Thank you for responding to our request and coming in person. Inspector Coslett is pleased to meet you, Miss Madelaine."
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They headed towards a cluster of parked police cars. The woman called Coslett, wearing a strikingly red lipstick that reflected the evening light, introduced her assistant, Sergeant Collins, whose eyes matched Cake's, swinging and chubby cheeks.
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"Ah, and you?"
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"Moncef Carmel Keymark, Mademoiselle Madelaine's personal assistant. You can call me—" Cake's introduction was abruptly interrupted.
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"Why do your eyes look sleepy? And why are you so well-dressed?" Her head moved like a detailed surveillance camera, capturing every detail of Cake, as if stripping him bare.
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"Hearing a name that resembles nobility from who knows where, I thought this person was your servant. Hm... you may be sentimental enough, but is this the best choice?" she remarked to Madelaine.
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Her soprano voice with a quick tempo spoke too much, leaving Cake feeling like a dissected meal. The man's expression grew tense, slightly eroding his lazy demeanor. Meanwhile, Madelaine struggled to hold back her laughter.
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"Ahem... I believe Mr. Cake is more reliable than his appearance suggests, I assure you," Madelaine quickly responded.
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"Oh-ow, if you think so?" She regained her smile, lightly patting Cake's shoulder. "Well, I can't underestimate the choices of Scotland Yard's people. Alright, follow me, lad!"
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Inspector Coslett, whose small steps resembled those of a small deer, walked past the front door without pausing. Cake and Madelaine followed suit.
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"Um, Mademoiselle Coslett, shouldn't we use the front door for a quicker entrance?" Cake asked.
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She stopped in her tracks.
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"Ah, the front door is locked. We'll take the back route," she added with a brief smile. "Oh, and one more thing, without the selle. I have one child, his name is Bobby."
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The atmosphere grew slightly awkward for a few seconds.
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"Well, I-I'll remember that, Mme. Coslett," Cake replied.
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They continued walking until they reached the back of the building. Some windows were covered with wooden boards and thin sheets of metal. The back door was not yet visible, but Cake and Madelaine were taken aback by something else. There was a white pentagram drawn on the ground with five red candles placed at each corner, all extinguished. In the center of the pentagram, there was a small, old, and thick red-coated block.
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Their gaze momentarily shifted to a sketch of the victim, leaving behind traces of blood.
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"A high school junior named Erwin Bevans fell from that open window, Ms. Madelaine," Inspector Corsett pointed to a row of four windows that were not covered with wood or metal. "Sergeant Collins and I agree that his head was also injured. Our suspicion is that he was struck while standing near that window."
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"Did the victim fall face-down?" Cake asked.
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"Yeah, his forehead was covered in blood,"
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Madelaine examined the pentagram sketch, which looked like sand.
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"Salt?" She lightly licked her middle finger.
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"I don't know what these kids nowadays are up to. They always act according to their whims. I have no idea what's on their minds to draw something occult-like," Inspector Corsett's tone rose sharply before she snorted. "It only adds to the workload of the police."
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"Do you know about this box?" Cake lifted the box and shook it gently while bringing his ear closer.
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"Sergeant Collins said it's a Dybbuk box. She said it's quite popular on whytube. I don't know the details, you can ask her later,"
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The box kept capturing Cake's gaze as he flipped it around. His nose detected a section that looked like dried, reddish residue.
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"Candles?"
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"Is it from those red candles?" Madelaine asked.
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"Perhaps," Cake tried to scrape off the hardened, crusty remains of the candles in the box. "The red color is paler. Maybe they bought this item for a specific purpose, and it arrived like this."
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They continued walking through a narrow gap in the circular and striking wall of the building. Lifting their feet, they entered through the window without glass, overgrown with wild vines. They now found themselves in a connecting room adjacent to the main building. A sketch of a camera was depicted in the corner near the window they entered. They walked a little further towards the door connecting to the main building.
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Inspector Collett pointed directly behind the connecting door of the main building. "Ah, a girl named Dilys Bierce was strangled until her face turned blue," she added, pointing to a small box in the middle. "There's also something resembling a handy talky there. Our team will provide you with all the details. Based on the information we gathered, this place used to be a pharmacy."
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Cake crouched down by the victim's sketch and tried to simulate the girl's death by mimicking a blow to the head. Meanwhile, Madelaine was intrigued by the camera sketch.
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"Are they recording something, Inspector Coslett?" she asked.
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"Something like that. Hm... documenting the paranormal?" she speculated.
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"Ah, ghost hunters?" Madelaine guessed.
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"Yeah, exactly! They're from a school club, conducting supernatural research, based in Cardiff. After the incident occurred, we sent them home and asked them to report to the South Wales Police. The rest is just waiting for the results," Inspector Coslett explained.
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"Oh, I see," Madelaine glanced back. "Do you have a grasp of it, Cake?"
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"Oui." Cake approached Inspector Coslett. "One more question, how many of them are there actually? Are they divided into groups for this?"
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"Twelve peoples," she added. "Two groups of six. Six of them went to the adjacent cottage building, while the rest went to the main building."
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"Merci."
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There, a door on the left connected the corridor leading to the central area, right behind the locked front entrance. The interior appeared dilapidated, but the remnants of the wood paneling and adorned walls had an air of luxury. Even the intricately carved wooden staircase made of oak couldn't be considered cost-cutting.
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They chose to head towards the spacious hall and went straight to the far end, turning right into one of the rooms. There, they found a sketch of a camera right in front of the entrance, and a device resembling a handy talkie placed slightly in front of it. The victim's sketch was behind the camera.
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Inspector Coslett revealed that the girl victim, Luned Eiriol, tragically died with both her eyes stabbed until blind, followed by her throat being slit. A cracked pair of glasses was found near the victim.
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Continuing up the stairs, they reached a point where they had two choices. They turned right, briefly entering the room where the male named Bevans had fallen. Inside the room with uncovered windows, there was also a sketch resembling a handy talkie.
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Then they turned around, or more precisely, took the left path of the two options, and entered the corner room where Inspector Coslett pointed out the last body.
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"His throat was also slit. And cruelly, both his arms were severed. This poor boy named Cadell Gethin," Inspector Coslett explained with a sorrowful expression.
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After learning about the four bodies, Cake and Madelaine headed towards the Pool Hospital cottage. There were six buildings. Starting from the one closest to the pharmacy, there was the waiting area, a special room, a medication storage room, a generator room, a mortuary, and finally, the incinerator.
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Now they were in the corner building, and Cake pulled out a flashlight.
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"Madame Coslett, may I ask for your assistance?" Cake requested.
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Cake wanted her subordinates to enter all areas of the Pool Park Asylum.
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"What's the purpose of doing that?"
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"Mr. Cake wants to try something. I believe it won't be in vain, Inspector Coslett," Madelaine added.
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Inspector Coslett's face briefly showed hesitation, but since Scotland Yard agreed, there was no reason to refuse. Cake immediately informed them of what he needed.
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Inspector Cosllett ordered seven constables. Two of them were assigned to the main building, in the hall and on the upper floor. Then, one by one, they were instructed to shout five times in the main building.
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Cake quickly made notes in his small notebook. Madelaine had no idea what her companion was doing, but she could at least make an educated guess based on the information Inspector Coslett provided to Cake.
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"Ah, thank you, Inspector Coslett, that was very helpful," Madelaine added. "So, how was the crime scene initially discovered? Who survived?"
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"When we entered, two girls were found still alive. One had injuries on her left arm and right thigh, while the other was unconscious, holding a blood-stained knife," she said with a slightly disturbed expression. "We might spend days investigating this until we find some more evidence."
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About half an hour before sunset, they returned and obtained some information, including recordings from Sergeant Collins. They immediately dispersed, not only Cake and Madelaine but also the police officers. The night was not a pleasant companion when lingering around empty and tangled buildings.
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Cake and Madelaine now entered the car from outside the guarded gate, where a constable had been stationed since earlier.
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"We'll check the recordings later," Cake added. "In the meantime, I want you to find suitable accommodations, Mlle. Madelaine."
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“Sure, sure. I always take care of my colleagues to the best of my abilities." She immediately started the engine of the sleek black Benz sedan.
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Cake leaned back, wanting to rest his eyelids.
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"Your observations always impress me. Well, I have a lot of questions now, especially about the sound experiment earlier," Madelaine said with a smirk.
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"Quiet, you chatterbox! I've never been compatible with reporters. Stop trying to be one."
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