CHAPTER 6
The next morning, we woke up to the ringing of cellphones, and the next thing we knew, after breakfast, the house was stormed by Evelyn’s parents. They came in anxious and asking of Evelyn who lied to them in an amazingly convincing way last night that our caretaker does not like us and is making our stay very uncomfortable. The caretaker was stunned and too confused to say a word. Meanwhile, Evelyn continued the charade of the previous night.
When the whole drama was settled and Evelyn’s parents had sent away a crying Miss Briggs out of the house with her end-of-the-month pay, we went to work with our mission. We were already expecting another caretaker by evening and we decided and we would be careful around her so what happened wouldn’t have to repeat itself. If it does, then Evelyn’s parents will be filled with a hell of suspicion.
The attic had a very huge closet where Evelyn stored all the costumes she got from her uncle (who by the way, is a theatre expert). The closet was filled with fake beards, wigs, maid uniforms, airport clothes, even a Romeo and Juliet costume. You just name it. It was like we went to a very weird clothing store and I loved it. We went to work trying out costumes and wigs for an hour and a half.
When we were already done and ready, we were drenched in sweat.
“Who knew trying on outfits would be so exhausting? I always thought it was so much fun.” Iris said ironically.
Leaving the house, I felt like we were movie stars, pretending to be who we are not for a mission. My whole body was blooming with excitement. We decided to take a cab because kids looking as smart as we did shouldn’t take a bike.
Iris was dressed like a news reporter from her favorite movie which I literally can’t remember. Evelyn was dressed like a smart high school student. She parked her shoulder-length brown hair into a bun and held it with a pin. For a girl who loved wearing baggy jeans, the outfit looked good on her for a change. Vivienne dressed like a posh business lady. She wore a long blonde wig and put on make-up. As for me, I dressed as my favorite character from a detective movie, Men in Black. Exactly like a private detective.
The cab stopped in front of Adrian`s uncle`s house (I think right now, I will address Adrian’s uncle as Mr. smith II because calling him by his relationship with Adrian is very long). Anyway, as I was saying, we were dropped off in front of Mr. Smith II`s house. Gathering our courage and morale, we rang the doorbell. Out came a very shabby-looking Mr. Smith II who looked like he had been running about for a whole night. His hair was wet and ruffled with bits of leaves and branches scattered here and there.
“Who are you?” he inquired rudely after a minute of staring at us one after the other.
“Vivienne, are you sure we have the right address?” Iris asked dramatically with a feigned expression of confusion on her face.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then, we are very pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Iris Copper. These are a group of colleagues of mine, we are doing a brief research on our project and we would like to interview you.”
“I am Fiona Adams!”
“While I am Evelyn jones!”
“Vivienne banks!”
“Certainly not!” he replied “as if I don’t have much on my plate. I will not entertain overdressed guests coming to ask infuriating questions.”
He started to shut the door but was stopped by Iris who stuck her foot at the edge of the door base.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Smith, we wouldn’t ask any infuriating questions trust me. We are researching the history of America and I am so sure you know more than we do about it…. taken that you have been here for a longer time than we have.” Iris spoke in a professional tone of voice.
“But if you don’t want to help us, we will take our business somewhere else,” Evelyn added.
“Of course, that will cause huge problems for us because you are at the top of our list.” Iris concluded by blowing bubble gum.
“Um… w-why don’t you all just come in.” a very confused Mr. Smith stammered.
“Why the sudden change of mind though?”
“I don’t want to be an obstacle to knowledge.” He gave a reply as he stood aside and held open the door for us to come in.
“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable while I go clean up. You see, I hadn’t much sleep last night because of four teenagers who decided to break into my car." he recounted scratching his hair as he made his way to what I suppose was the bathroom.
The house wasn’t as impressive as it looked on the outside. The sitting room was furnished in a very scanty way. Two cushions arranged opposite each other, with a center table placed in-between them. There was a broken table lamp on the center table (don’t ask me, I am just narrating doesn’t mean I had an idea. Maybe next time you see Mr. Smith II YOU would do the asking). The furniture arrangement made it seem like he moved into the house in a hurry.
Mr. Smith II joined us in the sitting room after a while, and the interview session started. (Now, I am not going to tell you what conversation we had with Mr. Smith II because if I do, this chapter would be so long and I would bore you to a cold death. For we came with some questions relating to the research we were doing for the competition. Which we asked him first, to keep him calmed down before we start the REAL questions). When we were done asking him the research questions, we started asking him questions related to the case.
(Now, THIS is the part where you need to know). It all started with Evelyn asking; “So how long have you lived in this house.”(Wait!) Or was it with me asking; “do you have any relative living in this town?” (I think it is the second option.)
“No, I do not. Well… I had a brother living with his family a little out of town.”
“You HAD. What happened to him?” (That was Vivienne though).
“Oh! Don’t like talking about it. He died mysteriously from a gunshot some days back.”
“Wow. Didn’t he have any immediate family members? I mean, of course except you.” Evelyn asked taking notes.
“He lost his wife just a year ago but he has a son.” He said mourning fully. “Such a tender age to be left alone in this world.”
“Such a pity that something like this will happen to a good person, I am sorry!”
“How old is he?”
“About 15 years old.” He said as he held back tears.
“We are sorry about that. If you don’t mind me asking, how was the relationship between you and your brother?” I asked (out of curiosity.)
“We were very close. More like twins, you know. As a result of circumstances, we lost contacts.” He said regretfully.
“How do you mean?” I asked him as I handed him a box of tissue.
“As I mentioned earlier, I am a hunter. Back then, in Sapphireview where my brother and I lived, there were no forest reserves for me to carry out my occupation. I had to move over here.”
“I see,” I said and looked at my friends. We all shared the same thought which was Mr. Smith II was not our killer.
We rounded up the interview, thanked him, and left. We took a taxi and had a quiet ride back to the summer house. Our minds unconsciously asking the same questions over and over again without fail.
“Who is Mr. Smith’s murderer?”
ns 15.158.61.12da2
