After a few minutes that seemed to be almost an hour, my hands, which had become a temporary shelter for the dust, felt like they had lifted half a quintal of weight. I began to wonder, am I a factory worker in the waste management department? Well, it's like Mr. Cake is a supervisor.
This time, the paper I wrote was ready to be reported. The bottle that I set aside was also arranged quite neatly. I hope my hard work can bring us to a door. A door that, when knocked, someone would open it for us and tell us at least one fact about the case.
“Beta-Carotene, Vitamin C, Magnesium, Ethanol, Methyl Ethyl Ketone, Gamsol, Glucosamine, Insulin, Lysergyde, Amitriptyline, Arsenic, Strychnine.” Mr. Cake reads the sheet of paper I wrote down seriously.
He repeated twice on Arsenic and Strychnine, his brows starting to crease. In a bit of a hurry, he immediately checked himself the used bottles that I had separated earlier. He told me to ask the constable on duty for a plastic bag.
I ran as fast as I could, because he told me to hurry. I'm a little happy that my efforts seem to have had an effect on our investigation.
After I gave it, the plastic bagged at least four different bottles. He told me to bring the thing, while the cell phone from his suit rang. Mr. Cake meets someone's call.
"Yeah, Cake's here,"
“…”
"Where did you get my number from?"
“…”
Mr. Cake nodded.
“Cake won't let you down, mademoiselle.”
He put the phone back in his pocket.
“Before Monsieur Ulric, we will meet someone. Let's hurry, Feline!"
I nodded without asking back. Our quick and careful steps, down the stairs. The beautiful woman looked a little worried, even though her face lacked expression, at least her hands were folded and playing with each other's thumbs, it made me sure. She started to face us who was about to say goodbye and grabbed the door out.
She bent down while lifting her skirt slightly like a noble maid of old. "You two must be tired, shouldn't you have a cup of tea first?" friendly tone.
Mr. Cake smiled faintly and refused gracefully. "Ah, no, mademoiselle. I was afraid that we would be leaving soon."
“Understood, Monsieur Cake. Are there any developments for now?”
"Well, not too far. But if you will, mademoiselle, I will be happy for some basic questions."
"Please, don't hesitate,"
He took two bottles from the crackle I had brought and showed it to Miss Belladonna.
“This bottle, Arsenic, could be related to the previous case. Then why would someone in this house use Strychnine?”
He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.
“Ah, the late Mr. Jacob Ulric, owned two inns in Little Waltham, Chelmsford and Fleggburgh, Great Yarmouth. When it comes to controlling rats, he always uses more Strychnine," she added with a sigh. "Oh, there's one more. Villa in Carthew, St. Austell."
Before we leave, Mr. Cake asked about the Hamlet & Ophelia book we found in the upstairs room. The woman unhesitatingly replied that Mr. Peregrine Ulric has loved the book since childhood. She said the book was a gift from biological mother of Mr. Ulric.
***
"Where are we going? I asked the man sitting next to me, turning over a page from a book I had taken earlier. His body was brought to his senses as calm as possible, but the expression on his face was far from happy.
“Feline, do you understand German?” His hand turned another page then nodded slightly, “Ah, here it is. Not so, Feline.”
Instead of answering my question, he asked me back. Then he returned to the book. The book I thought looked different from before. Instead of a cover that looks colorful and full of illustrations as usual, the book that Mr. Cake only has letters, one color, and no illustrations.
Since he was already like that, it seemed impossible to disturb him. Instead I saw what the taxi driver saw. This car seems to take a straight direction from the fork. Seen some shop buildings that are not too crowded.
"Yellow's high street coffee shop, sir?" The driver looked back while activating the left turn signal, which sounded like the thumping sound of an old sedan.
Mr. Cake closed the book immediately. "Oui."
We got out of the car. The taxi left immediately after Mr. Cake gives it its due.
"Well, Feline, it should be either Miss Zoe or we’re late." he looked at his watch.
Coffee shop in general, Cambourne area, general interior and not much to describe other than 'normal'. A woman, in uniform, of course, although different from yesterday. She lifted the sunglasses over her forehead, then she waved twice. She sat at the table in the back near the cashier.
We went to the woman and sat across from her.
Mr. Cake later told me to order some food, while he just needed a large black coffee in a container to carry around. He lent him his debit card.
“Mr. Cake, I don't have much time.” The woman called Zoe briefly looked at her watch. “In a few minutes, I have to go to a meeting.”
"I'm afraid that won't happen, Miss Zoe," said Mr. Cake smoothly. "This is not the right way to talk about something."
She snorted, "Fine." Then took a sip of the expresso he ordered earlier.
I put Mr. Cake, large black coffee, then a few other items in a container near me after returning the debit card. Well, this is my first time ordering a machiato.
"Ulric couldn't be the culprit!" The tempo of the pronunciation is fast and firm.
"Do you know who did it?"
Her guts suddenly shrank, her face shrouded in a blinding mist.
“I-I'm not sure…. I think it must be someone?” she added that she and Ulric were friends since childhood who were never separated, either where they studied or hung out together. In fact, they are always in the same class. Long story short, Miss Zoe said once again that she really didn't have the time, that she knew the most about Ulric. He said, Ulric is a gifted child but a bit absent-minded and tends to make stupid decisions. Some friends who bullied him just let it go, because he was a coward.
“Can such a person commit murder? I-I don't even know if the light is on or not?”
Temple of Mr. Cake looked veined, "You're lying, Miss Zoe?" Dissapointed tone from Mr. Cake.
Miss Zoe said that she did it because the police put her under pressure. But she admits that the flat she lives in is not far from Ulric's house. So the alibi that her boyfriend, Alex said, is true.
That reason is quite acceptable by Mr. Cake that looks like his temples doesn't look like veins anymore. But this time he frowned slightly, maybe it changed the scenario he had in mind a bit from the start. I honestly think Miss Zoe's lies are unnecessary. After all though provoking prejudice, it doesn't even change anything significantly.
“Tell me the truth, Miss Zoe, who do you think fits best?” asked Mr. Cake seriously.
She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She took a piece of paper that contained scribbles and writings, from her bag. A scenario, carefully designed. Just reading it made my skin crawl. The three pieces of shabby paper were both written with hatred.
"Alex."
She said that she spent years researching the case that once incriminated Ulric for three years in prison, then pretended to be Alex's lover and searched with great care and vigilance. It was kept in his wardrobe, left for a moment by Alex for small business.
Just before leaving, I asked him directly why he did this specific thing to Alex.
"Although pretending, a woman's heart can also melt. For a moment I started to want to be serious with him...," she said heavily. "I know that woman always has a charm of her own."
Then she left in a hurry.
With that fact, I felt a little swayed and started to think that what Miss Zoe just said was the way of truth. But for now, we need to find a taxi to go somewhere else.
Who is the woman Miss Zoe is referring to?
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