The plan was divided into two objectives, where Mlle. Voyles was targeting Mlle. Howell, while M. Marsh had his sights on M. Gill. However, they did not confirm the use of weapons, and, most importantly, it remained undisclosed, according to M. Marsh's explanation.
"Ah! If I'm not mistaken, at that time, 'Nick, explain to me what this means!' while we momentarily distanced ourselves while queuing at Lightning 360?"
Suddenly, this slow loris raised its head like a robot that had just given me a heart attack. Unaware of its schedule, it wandered off, mimicking someone's words.
"Feline!" I turned to her, giving a warning. However, Feline suddenly became the center of attention for everyone.
"Ah, s-sorry,"
I was slightly annoyed, but sometimes I couldn't be too harsh on her. So, I always created a plot twist.
"I mean, say that from the beginning,"
Then M. Marsh explained what Feline said was indeed true. The scenario was that M. Marsh would give M. Gill a small black rum bottle that had been mixed with Hemlock poison as a farewell gift. A farewell to M. Gill's death.
"When Nick said he would undergo surgery in Belgium, I decided not to give him the bottle of rum that had been mixed with hemlock, then I threw it away after emptying its contents. At that moment... I began to realize that I had just attempted a crime, thankfully it didn't happen," he said, his tone now filled with regret, as evident on his face.
Furthermore, M. Marsh realized from the beginning, from the portfolio data when M. Nick was contracted as a technician at Ghostic Pest Control. Regardless of his abilities, the consideration was M. Gill's health history.
Because M. Marsh knew this since their meeting at Norwich Market on March 1, he had just confirmed its accuracy today. According to M. Gill himself, he had Pneumonia and Hypoglycemia.
That explained why the next day, each time M. Gill had to extend his shift, M. Marsh realized that perhaps M. Gill used that as an opportunity for treatment.
No wonder, the first time we met M. Gill, the short blond-haired man with bangs on both sides, a man who seemed emotionally reserved, turned out to be a possible cause of Hypoglycemia. Low blood sugar could explain his lack of enthusiasm. But, M. Gill didn't seem tired at all, even though he was affectionate with Mlle. Howell.
"Oh, Billy! Is that true? Why didn't you tell me!?" Mlle. Voyles exclaimed.
"I was just about to tell you, but there were too many surprises today,"
"Mr. Marsh, what you're saying is-uh... very hard to believe in some aspects. We could wait for the team to bring evidence of what you're saying. But at the same time, both you and Miss Voyles cannot leave this place," Inspector Sharp explained, now leaning on his right arm. "If it's like this... only Miss Voyles remains... Tch, how complicated this case is!"
Mlle. Voyles briefly mentioned that there was an incident where she swapped the lemon soda when playing dodgems.
"Excuse me, did that happen after you vomited and were taken to the clinic with me, mademoiselle?" I asked.
"Yes! Yes! At that time, sir!"
"Oh? Does that mean it's time for you to give a statement, sir?" Monsieur with a butt-chin's gaze shifted towards me, somewhat annoying.
I explained the situation truthfully, where at that time, Mlle. Voyles' condition seemed dubious. The nurse gave her simple symptom-relief medication like fever and vomiting medicine.
"Uh-huh, at that time, Miss Howell asked for that lemon soda, but Miss Voyles refused, quite rudely I felt?" Feline added.
"Thank you," said Mlle. Voyles, her expression seeming sadder.
"No problem, Miss!"
That's Feline, her mouth is informative but not selective about which part might be hurtful. Although I have to admit in a situation like this, everything has to be open.
Mlle. Voyles gave the final climax of her explanation, that before that happened, she had given one of the bottles to Mlle. Howell, afraid of which one was poisonous and which was not.
That was because, based on her explanation, from the beginning, both bottles were placed in Mlle. Voyles' larger crossbody bag. Because they were in the same position when consumed, a mix-up could occur. The dodgems' jolts also stirred the poison, mixing it well.
Then Mlle. Voyles said after the third ride on the dodgems, she asked permission to go to the bathroom to try the two lemon soda bottles.
"Because I knew one of them was poisonous, s-so... I never handed it back to her. B-but maybe it's too late, and Alwen has already drunk some?"
A little addition from Mlle. Voyles, when she was in the toilet, she drank the antidote and disposed of all the evidence, including the lemon soda, both containing poison and not, in the toilet flush. However, because she brought two Fomepizole, one could be used as evidence, as she mentioned earlier. As a security antidote when formulating the latest pesticide.
Those words seemed to fulfill the administrative requirements that explained the crimes committed by Mlle. Voyles, at least enough for Inspector Sharp. Nevertheless, he felt slightly dissatisfied because there was not enough reason to lock M. Marsh in iron bars. That was because M. Marsh did have a motive, unfortunately thwarted by him.
Unfortunately, not by me. However, after Mlle. Voyles said that, it seemed a bit too awkward. My past experiences only brought me face to face with incidents of how easy it was to administer poison to the victim. Not the other way around. But perhaps it could be just as easy.
The interrogation was now temporarily suspended, still directing Mlle. Voyles to the temporary jail cell to be taken to trial later. The difference was, now the sad, regretful, and emotional expressions were not only evident on Mlle. Voyles' face but also on M. Marsh's. A man who, from the beginning, I had regarded as calm, was now restless.
At precisely 3 p.m., the three of us sat in the hallway just outside the interrogation room. Not sure what we would do next, while reluctant to go home because we were immersed in our own thoughts. More precisely, Feline and I were allowed to go home, while M. Marsh continued to wait for the continuation of information that might not take long. Several police staff passed by, but none of them understood our hearts' uneasiness.
Especially M. Marsh, who, since he sat down briefly outside the interrogation room, his hands were slightly trembling. I could understand how shocked he was, but I only realized it when Feline whispered to me.
Well, sometimes Feline could be useful.
"A-are you okay, Monsieur?"
"Y-yeah... I-I'm a in very confusion state from earlier..."
"I understand this is difficult, but monsieur... I want to know a few things. May I?"
"I understand this is difficult, but monsieur... I would like to know a few things. May I?" My brain feel itching due to the inexplicable complexity of this case that I spontaneously asked.
"S-sure,"
"Are there any other details beyond what Feline saw? Remember the time when I was with Mlle. Voyles?"
He thought for a moment about what I meant about what Feline said earlier.
"Ah, yes. I sincerely swear that was all that happened..."
I nodded slightly, as if understanding.
"Lastly, monsieur, do you believe that Mlle. Voyles is truly telling the truth?"
"T-that... I am still exploring that at the moment..."
"Ah, that's not what I meant. Perhaps, according to your opinion only," I replied, thinking that M. Marsh might have additional information.
"It's difficult to believe the truth, just like what she said,"
"Merci."
I turned to Feline, who instantly raised her head and nodded quickly. I didn't know why Feline was like this, but it was clear she had concerns.
"Feline, how about you speak?"
"Of course,"
"Okay, let's listen," I replied.
"Hm... okay. Actually, I've been wanting to eat slushies-"
"Okay, stop, I don't want to hear that,"
I guess a slow loris is still a slow loris. So I decided on my next step.
There are a few things that don't make sense. For example, what made Inspector Sharp understand what Mlle. Voyles said about how the poison was administered? Mlle. Voyles could insert Ethylene Glycol at any time. And I, I don't deny that she did that.
However, it's a different story when it comes to how the poison was given to the victim. In my previous cases, it usually involved swapping the bottle caps of drinks, creating a false alibi regarding their presence, swapping medications, or being done openly and clearly. However, people would never think that it was the culprit. That one is special and clever.
But compared to what Mlle. Voyles did... I'm a bit skeptical.
Let's say this...
Mlle. Howell wanted to buy a lemon soda drink or Mlle. Voyles initiated buying two lemon sodas to give to Mlle. Howell in the end. Both are the same.
Then the bottle was handed to Mlle. Howell. Then both Mlle. Howell and Mlle. Voyles drank, and both bottles stayed in Mlle. Voyles' bag. I can understand that at that time, the possibility of mix-up was 50%.
As a result, after some time because Mlle. Voyles felt unwell. It happened after M. Marsh telling his story, precisely after they played dodgems.
Everything seems reasonable.
The problem is at the beginning, when Mlle. Voyles inserted Ethylene Glycol, fully aware. Then what made the lemon soda mix-up possible even in the bag? Is it even possible? I mean didn't she prepare a mark between the bottles? Why have to risk poisoning first instead of preventing it? I mean she brought the antidote.
"Mr. Cake, I-um..."
This slow loris invited me to talk again. Well, hopefully, it's not some silly thing she's about to say.
"Hah..." I added after taking a deep breath. "Yes, Feline?"
"I don't want to discuss the old case. But at that time, if I'm not mistaken... when I was still a maid in the Antoinette family..."
"What is it, Feline?"
"T-that... about the small bottle—what was written on it? Glucagon?"
Perhaps there was still hope for Feline, rather than when I called her a slow loris.
"Yes, I was just about to ask about that to Rachel. What's wrong with the small Glucagon bottle?"
"Isn't that like Mr. Armand Antoinette's insulin medicine in the previous case? If that's true, isn't it strange when Mlle. Voyles said she drank it?"
Hearing that, my mind was filled with strong threads that might connect the clarity of this case. I quickly picked up my phone.
I dialed the name of a woman in my phone contact list who never allowed me to approach other women. A jealous and possessive one, the owner of my own cake shop. The red velvet elegant hair, her behavior was similar to a cabaret woman and sometimes annoying. But this woman might be the key. Rachel Flemming.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
