Miss Charlotte’s Case Journal - Chapter 15

“Even so, how could you possibly….”

The pharmacist let out a deep sigh. “You don’t understand, Inspector. In a small town like this, once rumors start, they spread like wildfire. If word gets out that I’m the kind of man who gossips about my customers’ private illnesses, I’d lose every client I have. That’s the best-case scenario. If one of the nobles took offense… I’d be a dead man walking.”

“So, what exactly is this medicine?”

At Henry’s question, the pharmacist’s eyes rolled anxiously for a moment, then, as if steeling his resolve, he took a deep breath. He walked to the door, peered outside for a long time to make sure no one was around, then shut it tightly and bolted the lock. He even closed every shutter on the few windows, plunging the shop into near-total darkness.

Lighting a candle to brighten the space again, he finally spoke in a heavy voice.

“You must promise to keep this a secret.”

“Go on.”

Even after Henry’s assurance, the pharmacist hesitated for a long while. The wax melted and pooled thickly at the base of the candle.

“It’s… Salvarsan.”

Charlotte’s mouth fell open. “Salvarsan? As in the Salvarsan I’m thinking of?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Salvarsan was a type of arsenic, the only known cure for syphilis. When administered in precise doses at regular intervals, it could stop the disease from progressing.

“Did someone tell you who was using it?”

“I can’t say for certain… but it’s not hard to guess, is it? If one person was infected, the other must’ve been too.”

He wasn’t wrong. That was how venereal diseases worked. And it made sense that such a delicate matter would be handled in secret, so much so that even a knight might be asked to run the errand.

“Lu… no, poor Baroness Turobe,” Charlotte murmured softly.

Henry nodded. “That could’ve been her motive.”

Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to deny it. If her husband had been unfaithful and passed a disease like that to her, she’d want to kill him too. A faint image of Lucy’s gentle smile and the small mole beneath her eye flickered in her mind. Had that mark been drawn to cover a lesion? Her tightly clenched fist trembled.

“Um….”

The pharmacist’s hesitant voice broke through the silence.

“There’s… one more thing you should know.”

“What is it?”

“Well, the truth is….”

***

The interrogation room was dim. Though there was no breeze, the long lamp hanging from the ceiling creaked faintly as it swayed back and forth, casting deep shadows across the room.

Robert Turobe sat in the chair looking thoroughly displeased, his arms crossed tightly, his back pressed firmly against the seat.

Henry and Charlotte sat across from him. The table between them was littered with scattered items.

Without a word, Henry gathered everything into one pile and pushed it aside.

“Now then, let’s talk again, Mr. Turobe.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

Robert Turobe spoke through clenched teeth, his words biting. He wasn’t drunk today, which gave his speech a forced touch of politeness, but after the tantrum he’d thrown earlier, his sleeves were rumpled.

“The Metropolitan Police have fallen far, haven’t they? Framing decent citizens now?”

Henry ignored the sneer. He simply took a small cloth pouch from his coat and set it on the table.

“According to the servants at the mansion, you and the baron drank together the night before his death.”

“That’s it? Sure, I drank with my brother. But do you think that’s enough to prove I’m guilty in court?”

Robert Turobe smirked, curling one corner of his mouth. One of his fingers twitched rhythmically against the table.

“If you want to pin me as the culprit, you’ll need better evidence than that, Inspector.”

When neither of them responded, Robert seemed to grow bolder.

“Why the hell would I kill my brother, huh?”

Henry, who had been silently watching him, finally said, “Normally, you wouldn’t have had a reason to. Baron Turobe treated you quite well.”

Henry pulled a file from the pile of clutter stacked haphazardly in the corner of the table. It was the report Dan and Martin had put together on Robert Turobe. Pressing down the creased edges with his hand, he began to read slowly.

“You’re twenty-eight years old… no job, no personal property, and you’re still living with your parents, right?”

“….”

Robert’s face stiffened. Seeing his eyes tremble with fury, Charlotte let out a soft laugh. How pathetic, to get offended over the truth.

“You frequent gambling dens, don’t you? And you’ve racked up quite a bit of debt. Seems you’re a regular at every pawnshop in town. I imagine the loan sharks are giving you hell too. I know a few of them myself, and they’re not the kind to back down just because someone’s a noble.”

Henry set the file down and fixed his eyes on Robert.

“How did you pay off all those debts?”

Robert’s face flushed red and pale in turns. Clenching his teeth, he replied through a voice shaking with humiliation.

“My family… helped me….”

“More precisely, Baron Robert Turobe helped you. The rest of your family didn’t lift a finger, did they?”

Henry sneered.

“At your age, it’s already disgraceful to beg your parents for money, but going to your brother to pay off gambling debts? That’s impressive. How thick-skinned do you have to be to do something like that?”

Charlotte added, “But you couldn’t do that anymore, could you? The baron declared he’d cut off your support.”

“I heard he even offered you a job as one final act of generosity. But judging by the look of you, I’d say you weren’t too happy about that.”

Henry’s gaze swept over him from head to toe before his lips curled slightly.

“Well, gamblers are all the same.”

The blunt insult finally broke Robert’s composure. He shot up from his chair, gripping the table so tightly his hands trembled. He looked ready to flip it over any second.

Henry stood and approached him slowly. Placing a firm hand on his shoulder from behind, he forced him back into his seat. Robert gritted his teeth, a strained groan escaping him.

“Even after the baron cut you off, you kept visiting the gambling dens. Naturally, that meant more debt.”

Henry’s voice dropped low. The faint creak of the swaying lamp above them echoed over his words.

“And, as always, you went back to the baron for help. The generous brother who had always paid off your debts, given you living money, even pocket money… of course, you thought he’d give you more if you just begged a little.”

“….”

“But here’s the thing. Your brother coldly turned down your request.”

Robert Turobe gritted his teeth. In his mind, he saw his brother dressed in lavish clothes made of fine fabric. He himself had stood before him, scratching the back of his head like a fool and begging.

“Brother, please help me. The loan sharks won’t leave me alone, I can’t live like this anymore.”

“More debts? You gambled again? Do you even have a brain? How far do you expect me to tolerate you?!”

“B-Brother….”

“I can’t even show my face in public anymore! Do you have any idea what they’re whispering about us in society?!”

The baron shoved him violently by the shoulder. Robert Turobe, caught off guard, stumbled backward and fell hard onto the floor. He looked up at his brother in disbelief. His brother’s face was twisted beyond recognition.

“They say I’ve got some kind of secret shame and that I’m being blackmailed by a scoundrel like you! There are rumors all over society that you’ve found my weakness and are using it to blackmail me!”

“That’s, that’s just a rumor, isn’t it? Just some ridiculous—”

“Yes, if it had been only that, I wouldn’t have cared. But that rumor…!”

The baron’s lips pressed tightly together as he glared down at Robert, eyes blazing. His face flushed red, then turned pale as he spat out his words through gritted teeth.

“They’re saying I don’t have a child because I’m impotent! That you’re blackmailing me with it! And do you know what else they’re saying? That when you stay the night at our house, it’s because I, I’m…!”

The baron suddenly shouted furiously, “They’re saying I’m letting you sleep with my wife to have a child through her!”

Even Robert Turobe was stunned by that. He scrambled forward, crawling on the floor, and clutched his brother’s leg.

“B-Brother! You don’t actually believe that, do you? Please, tell me you don’t!”

“Of course not! Do you think you could dare touch my wife behind my back?! You?!”

The baron exploded with rage and kicked his brother off his leg. Robert Turobe fell back again, sprawling across the floor.

“I only ever looked after you because I pitied you! A worthless fool with no talent, whose only skills are gambling, drinking, and causing trouble. What a useless wretch you are!”

Robert Turobe was struck speechless by the torrent of insults. Was this really his brother speaking? The brother who had always smiled at him, encouraged him, comforted him, and even supported him financially? What on earth had made his brother turn on him like this?

“You’ve been running your filthy mouth about my wife in front of your trash friends, haven’t you?”