Miss Charlotte’s Case Journal - Chapter 6

Just then, the interrogation room door opened, and a brown-haired man walked out. Through the gap before the door closed, Charlotte caught a glimpse of the woman who’d been the baron’s mistress. Her tear-streaked eyes looked pitiful.

The man shook his head and said, “There’s no progress. She keeps insisting she didn’t do it.”

“But there’s no one more suspicious than her.”

“Do you really think Miss May’s the culprit?”

“We’ll find out after more questioning. You can go now, Dory. I’ll handle the rest.”

“…My name’s Dan, Inspector.”

“…My apologies.”

“Sir, I’m saying this with all due respect, but please, just don’t do that in front of others. I’m fine with it, but if anyone else hears, it’ll look bad. I’m really saying this for your sake.”

“…Understood.”

“I mean, you’re smart and sharp with everything else, so how can you be so bad with names? I’ll never understand—whoa, geez!”

Charlotte laughed as Dan jumped in surprise when their eyes met and nearly tripped over his own feet. What a circus. His face flushed red from embarrassment, and he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“I’m Charlotte Robern from the morgue.”

“Dan. Dan Mars….”

Henry clicked his tongue as he looked at the two of them exchanging awkward greetings.

“You may go, Darrin. Miss Ceylon, let’s talk.”

“…It’s Dan, Inspector.”

“…It’s Charlotte.”

“….”

This time, both Charlotte and Dan clicked their tongues at Henry.

As he left, Dan leaned close and whispered to Charlotte, “Our Inspector’s hopeless with names, but he remembers work details perfectly. Just ignore it and say what you came to say.”

Charlotte followed Henry into a room beside the interrogation room. Inside were the usual pieces of furniture one would find in an office—desk, bookshelf, chairs, sofa, and table—but unlike an ordinary office, every piece was buried under piles of documents.

“Please, have a seat.”

Henry sat down casually on top of the stacks of papers covering the sofa and gestured for her to do the same. Charlotte hesitated for a moment, then pushed aside the papers on the opposite sofa to make a small space and sat down.

“Would you like some tea, Miss Ceylon?”

“I… no, I’m fine.”

Recalling Dan’s kind and useful advice, Charlotte decided she’d just live as Ceylon for now. She could always change her name back later.

Henry picked up the teapot but, after being declined, muttered, “Oh,” and set it down again. He fidgeted awkwardly for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

“I assume you have something to tell me, Miss Céline?”

Charlotte decided once again that Céline would do for now.

“Yes. I believe the culprit in this case, the person responsible for this file, is him.”

She handed him the document.

“Robert Turobe, younger brother of the victim, Baron Alex Turobe.”

“And what makes you think so?”

“It’s written in the report, but Robert Turobe recently grew distant from the victim. They had a heated argument the day before his death, and they drank together that evening. He had both motive and opportunity to poison him.”

Henry shook his head. “That’s only speculation. It’s not enough.”

“Then what evidence do you have against that mistress earlier?”

“…That’s also just suspicion. But between the two, she seems the more likely.”

“If their relationship was close enough for him to give her such expensive gifts, wouldn’t that make her less likely to have killed him? She doesn’t seem to have a clear motive.”

“She wasn’t an official mistress. She still worked as a maid and only went to him when called. Her work kept piling up, and she was constantly scolded. The baron didn’t go easy on her either. If he’d cared for her even a little, he might’ve told the head maid to lighten her workload, but he didn’t. Their relationship wasn’t public, so to everyone else, she was just a lazy servant getting reprimanded.”

“So, you think she may have held a grudge?”

“To some extent, yes.”

But Henry’s expression wasn’t that of someone convinced.

“If it were me, instead of killing the baron, I’d whisper to him to lighten her workload, or ask for a small house in place of jewelry so she could quit working as a maid. Killing him would bring her no benefit.”

“There are people in this world who kill out of resentment or anger.”

“But Robert Turobe, mentioned in that document, is just as suspicious.”

Henry stared down at the file, biting his lip as if lost in thought.

“Did Miss May have the opportunity to poison the baron?”

“…Far too many. She served him drinks the night before he died and was also the first to discover his body.”

“If she served drinks, then she would’ve heard the conversation between Robert Turobe and the baron. She might’ve even witnessed something suspicious.”

“….”

“How about questioning her a bit more?”

In the end, Henry nodded. In truth, he also found the maid suspicious, but he wasn’t confident she was the culprit, which had been troubling him.

The two entered the interrogation room. May, who seemed to have calmed down, looked at them both with steady eyes. She clutched her handkerchief tightly, seemingly nervous.

“…Let’s talk again.”

“I didn’t kill the master.”

“You’re saying the same thing again. Do you have nothing else to add?”

“Why should I say anything different?! It’s the truth!”

Charlotte quietly watched May, who was trembling as she shouted. Whether from agitation or fear, she kept her arms tightly wrapped around her stomach.

“You served the victim drinks the night before his death, correct?”

“…Yes. But if I’d poisoned the drink, wouldn’t Lord Robert have died too? He drank it with the master, didn’t he? And Lord Robert’s perfectly fine!”

“What were the two of them talking about?”

“…Why do you ask?”

“Is that really important? You just need to tell us what you heard.”

May unfolded her arms and clasped her hands together. After fidgeting with her fingers for a moment, she recalled the scene carefully and spoke.

“The baron scolded him. Told him to stop wandering, to live properly now, that he was too old to keep blaming their parents for everything… things like that.”

“And how did he respond to that?”

“He listened quietly, strangely enough.”

“What do you mean by that?”

May hesitated briefly, then continued, “The master was always generous with Lord Robert. Even after he became an adult, he gave him an allowance despite him doing nothing but idle around. When he got into debt gambling, the master paid it off every time. But recently, the baron said he couldn’t stand it any longer and declared he wouldn’t give him money anymore. Lord Robert was furious, shouting, ‘How could you do this to me?’ but the master was firm. That afternoon, Lord Robert came again to ask for help, and when the master refused, he got so angry he threw one of the decorations in the room before storming off. Then suddenly, that evening, he returned and drank with the master. He heard the exact same scolding again, but this time, he just nodded and said, ‘Yes, you’re right, brother.’”

That’s really suspicious, Charlotte thought, glancing at Henry. Their eyes met in midair, and realizing they were thinking the same thing, Henry gave a slight nod before asking another question.

“Did you prepare the wine and glasses yourself?”

“Yes, I brought them directly from the kitchen to their room.”

“Did you continue pouring drinks for them? Or did someone else touch the bottle in between?”

“Oh, here we go again.”

May’s face turned bright red once more.

“I didn’t poison anything!”

Her furious voice echoed through the interrogation room. Henry sighed softly, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair.

Perhaps thinking he didn’t believe a single word she said, May suddenly stood up, clutching her stomach tightly with both hands.

“I said I didn’t!”

Meanwhile, Charlotte, who had been quietly watching May’s every move, tilted her head slightly in doubt. Why does she keep holding her stomach like that? Is she hurt?

But rather than the way someone touches a painful spot, May’s gesture looked more like she was trying to protect something…. The realization struck Charlotte like lightning.

“Miss May, are you…?”

Charlotte couldn’t finish her sentence. She looked between May’s face and her stomach, her expression openly showing her shock. Seeing Charlotte’s eyes widen in horror, May’s face went completely pale.

“I, I… I….”

May tried to say something but couldn’t form the words. In the end, she slumped back into her chair. Her lips trembled, and soon a quiet sob escaped her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving stains on the desk. The sound of her muffled crying filled the room.

Henry, bewildered by the sudden scene, glanced back and forth between Charlotte and May. Then he tapped Charlotte’s arm and whispered softly, “What in the world is going on, Miss Ceylon?”

“…You’re really clueless. Just be quiet for now.”

“…Understood.”

When May’s sobs finally began to subside, Charlotte let out a faint sigh. At that sound, May’s shoulders flinched.

“Is it the baron’s child?”

“….”

May didn’t answer. Her eyes squeezed shut, her reddened lashes trembling.

Is Miss May pregnant? Charlotte’s head throbbed at the Inspector’s tactless, ill-timed question. Please, just stay quiet for once. …Yes.

“…I didn’t kill the baron.”

After a long silence, May finally spoke. Her words were broken with sniffles, but still understandable.

“I’m pregnant with the baron’s child. Do you have any idea what it’s like for an unmarried woman to carry a child alone, and how people would look at me once the baby’s born?”