Miss Charlotte’s Case Journal - Chapter 25

The place they chose was a small, old, shabby pub. Charlotte hesitated, wondering what kind of food such a place could possibly serve, but Henry enthusiastically recommended it, saying it was one of his regular spots. Charlotte didn’t even get a chance to look at the menu. The moment Henry opened the door and stepped inside, he immediately ordered two of his usual dishes.

“Your usual?”

“It’s really good. You can look forward to it, Miss Charlotte.”

His confidence somehow came off as annoying. Charlotte leaned back in her chair with a slightly cynical expression, crossed her arms, and looked around.

At several tables, people were already drunk in broad daylight, sitting however they pleased, and at the table in the center, a group was playing cards. This didn’t look like a normal place at all. Charlotte frowned as she saw the oversized beer mugs and whiskey glasses in everyone’s hands.

“Don’t tell me the only thing they serve to drink here is alcohol?”

“Of course not. You can pick from here.”

Henry hurriedly handed her the menu sitting in the corner of the table. Charlotte skimmed it quickly and ordered the tea written in the smallest letters on the very last page. It was the only non-alcoholic drink on the menu. Henry ordered the same and added an apple pie on top of that.

When Charlotte looked at him curiously, Henry smiled a little awkwardly and said, “I figured something stressful might happen later, so I thought I’d eat something sweet beforehand.” Charlotte simply nodded and stopped the server, who was about to turn away, to add a peach pie. “That one’s mine.” Henry chuckled quietly at her words. Before long, the server returned and set down two teacups on their table with a rough hand.

The cups didn’t look very clean, so Henry glanced nervously at Charlotte. In truth, this was his first time ordering anything other than alcohol at this pub. The glasses for liquor were always spotless, so he had never imagined the teacups would look like this.

Even if she was called eccentric, she was still a noble lady. The place being old was one thing, but the dishes not being clean might bother her. Yet, to his surprise, there wasn’t a trace of emotion on Charlotte’s face.

Relieved, Henry let out a long breath. To get rid of the tiny bit of anxiety still lingering in his chest, he quickly lifted his teacup. Since he’d never tried it before, he wanted to taste it himself before letting her drink it.

“…!”

Bitter! Henry nearly spat out the tea still in his mouth. It was, without exaggeration, the worst tea of his life. The tea Charlotte had served him at the morgue yesterday had been his worst until now, but within just a day, he had found a new contender. Truly, the world was vast and full of surprises…. No, wait, that wasn’t the point.

Henry somehow managed to swallow the liquid that was paralyzing his tongue by the second. It was so bitter that tears welled up in his eyes. They actually sell this for money? Isn’t that cruel? Even if tea wasn’t popular here, did they seriously have no idea how to brew it? They might as well take it off the menu entirely!

Henry glared at the server, who was too distracted watching the card game to notice. Because of that, he failed to stop Charlotte in time as she lifted the cup to her lips.

“Wait, Miss Charlotte! If you drink that—”

Sip.

Charlotte held the tea in her mouth for a moment, savoring the aroma, then swallowed. She blinked with a puzzled look.

“What is it?”

“Uh, well, does it… actually taste fine to you?”

“It’s a little strong, but not bad.”

Henry’s second-worst tea of his life, which had now fallen from first place, and the worst biscuit he’d ever eaten that still proudly held its title, flashed through his mind—both of which Charlotte had eaten yesterday without a hint of discomfort. Ah, so my worry was pointless.

Henry let out a helpless laugh and shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. Just… eat as much as you’d like.”

While Charlotte took another sip of tea, the food arrived. On the plates were Scotch eggs fried to a golden brown, Welsh rarebit that looked like its cheese would stretch endlessly with one bite, and baked potatoes in a rich ragu sauce with assorted vegetables neatly arranged side by side.

The menu was more ordinary than she expected, and Charlotte glanced at Henry.

He grinned knowingly. “Nothing too special, right?”

Charlotte shrugged lightly and nodded.

“This is good too, of course, but this isn’t all. The real specialty here is… oh, perfect timing!”

The server set down two bowls of soup on the table. The bright red chili beef soup looked rich and appetizing.

“This one’s really good. Go on, try it while it’s still warm. It’s cooled down a bit now since it’s summer, which is a shame, but when winter comes and it’s snowing outside, this will warm you right up.”

At Henry’s urging, Charlotte scooped up a spoonful and tasted it. The slightly spicy flavor, the rich beef chunks, and the blend of cooked vegetables came together beautifully. Just as he said, it would taste heavenly on a bitterly cold winter day. Smiling faintly, Charlotte nodded, and Henry grinned back as he lifted his spoon.

The two of them ate as they exchanged casual small talk. Their conversation gradually shifted from their workplaces and duties to topics about the social scene and their respective families.

They had never spoken openly about it before, but both had already guessed that the other was a noble. From their very first meeting, they had each introduced their family names, and those families were quite well-known in the capital. Both were far too well-educated not to recognize them.

Even so, the reason the topic had never come up again until now was simple: there had been no need. When performing their duties as a coroner and a police inspector, one’s family name held no meaning. But now, they weren’t working. They were at a meal, and—though it was somewhat awkward to say—they had become, in a way, friends. So naturally, such conversations came up.

“Do you often attend society parties?”

“Not very often. As you know, my memory’s not the best, so I sometimes end up being unintentionally rude.”

Ah, that ridiculous forgetfulness. Charlotte recalled how he’d once boldly called people by all the wrong names. Imagining him doing the same thing at a party made her chuckle without meaning to.

“You don’t seem to attend many either, Miss Charlotte.”

“Oh, I….”

Charlotte paused. She was about to say she had no desire to attend and that there weren’t many parties inviting her anyway, but she shut her mouth. It wasn’t that she cared, but for some reason, saying it out loud felt a little embarrassing. Maintaining a calm face, she smiled lightly instead.

“Well, as you know, I’m far too busy to bother with social events.”

She hadn’t said she never went, only that she didn’t go often. Henry had probably heard the rumors about her circulating in high society, but even so, he didn’t question her. He simply nodded in quiet understanding. Grateful for that small courtesy, Charlotte smiled sincerely.

After tidying up the table once, the two received their desserts. During the meal, the tea had cooled and grown even more bitter. Henry didn’t touch his cup and ate only his dessert, while Charlotte enjoyed both together.

“That’s the autopsy report of my friend, isn’t it?”

Henry glanced around and whispered quietly. He was checking to make sure no one from the Metropolitan Police was nearby. Charlotte also gave a barely noticeable nod and replied in a small voice.

“Yes. Well… just as you expected. He was struck several times in the head with something solid. The angle of the wounds is perfectly perpendicular, and the skin wasn’t cut but torn roughly, which means the weapon wasn’t sharp. You said a bloodstained brick was found at the scene, right?”

Henry gave a heavy nod.

“That brick was probably the weapon. The shape of the wounds matches almost exactly.”

Charlotte hesitated for a moment before continuing, “…In most cases, when someone attacks another person’s head… once the victim falls and loses consciousness, the attacker stops there. They think the victim’s dead. Then the fallen person is either found soon enough to be taken to the hospital and survive, or the blood keeps building up inside the skull until they die. But… Mr. Brown’s case was a little different.”

“…How do you mean?” Henry asked curiously.

“His skull was crushed, and his brain was damaged. You can’t shatter a skull through a typical attack, and he would’ve already lost consciousness long before that. So what I mean is….”

Charlotte glanced at Henry’s expression. His face was twisted in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut before forcing herself to continue.

“What I mean is, the culprit didn’t stop attacking even after the victim had lost consciousness and fallen. They kept going until the skull broke. Of course, it’s possible the culprit was extremely strong and managed it in a single blow, but….”

“But judging from the wounds, your conclusion is that the culprit struck several times.”

“Yes, which means the killer was most likely consumed by rage. They kept striking over and over until their anger subsided. And the location where the body was found supports that too.”

“What’s wrong with the location?”