Forum Thread

"Y'know, you're an odd boy Amane. Let me share a theory of my own. When I walked into the room, I didn't see you at all. In fact, I didn't even know you were in the room until you aproached me. While it isn't dead silent in here, I did not hear or see you come in from the doorway. That meant that you had to have been hiding, and chose only to aproach one other person. Yet talking to me, you act so confidently, as if you owned the very ground we stood upon. Why is that? Humor me with that answer, and maybe I'll let you test your so-called theory," she said, a slight tone of amusment in her voice.

---

Amane blinked. Well, that's not quite what he was expecting her to respond with. She was paying a bit more attention than he'd thought. Not that it was all that profound. "Certainly. I like to be familiar with a place before I interact with it, such as reading a map before walking through a forest, or," he explained, glancing up for a moment at the quieter ballroom around them, "observing people's personalities before introducing myself. So if I seemed confident to you, that's because I was." He shrugged slightly, giving her a genuine smile. "I decided you were a person worth talking to. My hiding earlier was to give me a good read on the situation. I probably wouldn't have been so carefree if the detectives were going to be rough with us." A bit of a sad look flickered across his face for a moment, gone as soon as it came. "Just a little survival tactic. Is that a satisfying answer?"

"Yes, I suppose that is." Ophelia took a minute to pick apart what he had just said. She admitted, waiting before introducing himself was a clever tactic indeed, she'd give him that. Ophelia was slightly flattered by what he had said, but she stored that emotion away. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm starting to feel a bit akward like this. Can I sit back down, or do you intend to keep me like this?" She said matter of factly, keeping the smile off her face.

---

As tempting as it was, even he had to admit that this might be a little much for a first meeting. "Oh alright, alright," he replied, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. Smoothly pulling her back up to a standing position, Amane let go and plopped himself down in a chair once more. "I'm remembering what you said for later, though. About you maybe letting me test my "so-called theory"." Taking a mental break from the situation after that last teasing comment, he wondered how the interviews were going. Had they made any progress? He clearly hadn't been paying a lot of attention to who was going in and out - he'd been...a little preoccupied - but there were a few new faces in the room, and both detectives appeared to be absent.

She went back to her chair, pulling out her book once more. She herself had put away the conversation with Amane mentally, and her eyes occasionally left the page to look around the room. Ophelia normally didn't pay attention to these things, but now, she supposed, was the time to do so. "Do what you like with that information," she said cooly before going back to her book.

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" So, Where were you at the time of Madame English's death?" asked Shawn. " The information you provide me will deem whether or not you were involved in the murder or not." Shawn paced around the room and pointed at the two items on the desk. " Do you know who owns these items?"

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Evelyn coughed, clearing her throat. She felt like she hadn't talked in ages, after all, she had been in shock.
'Hmmm...' She tilted her head to one side in deep thought, 'At the time of Madame English's death,' she bit her lip and paused, 'I think I was wandering around at the party. I wasn't in the ballroom, I had grown tired of the party. I suppose that sounds rather suspicious, not being with the others I mean. I was looking around as due to Madame English's wealth, I supposed she might have had some obscure, beautiful art that I would like to see.'
Once more, she realised she was fiddling with her ring so pushed her hair back behind her ear to stop herself.

(Timeskip wrote thankfully by Gecko!)

After many more long hours of interrogation, most of the suspects were dismissed by 3 AM. However, one individual left before they could talk to Detective Westling. At 12 PM, the exhausted and irritable Detectives Westling and Foster made their way to Ms. Darrah's work, Club Ritz, which was the most famous gentleman's club in all of London.

---

Following Mr Westling, Xel looked around the place. last night was a blur of talking, gathering infomation and questions. and yet they still haven't done the last person who left before they could ask anything.

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Alcott hopped off his chauffeur's car and nodded,dismissing him. Holding a flower in his hand close to his chest,he approached English's grave. After a sigh,he knelt down and placed the flower on her grave. They didn't really have many chances to interact, but when they could they usually had a good time. "Truly a shame..." he muttered.

Opheila stood erect next to her grandmother, who was mourning quietly at the side of Madame English's grave. It felt like being at a stranger's funeral, the sadness of the murder hanging over the air, but yet, she could not truly greive as her grandmother did. There were only two times in which she had even met Madame Engish, the night of her death, and once, when she was quite young, though that was hardly a memory at all. Still, her grandmother expected her to be there, and to greive for the loss of her relative. Ophelia looked at the grave for a while, trying to stir up something for someone that she had hardly known, someone that had been talked down about for years of her life. What was she supposed to feel? Why couldn't she feel it? Why didn't her greif at the loss of her aunt extend beyond that of her life being taken before her time was up?

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Amane awkwardly straightened out a few wrinkles in his black coat. He wasn't entirely sure why he was even here. He'd had no connection to this woman. At all. Even so...it felt wrong to not show respect and pay homage to a death that happened mere feet from him. As he walked quietly between the headstones, scanning the last names, the teen wondered about the supposed revolution brewing in the colonies. In a few years time, how full would this place be? He shivered. How crowded would the graveyards be overseas...? It was nearly impossible, he knew, for the colonies to really drive off the global superpower that was the British Empire.

He turned left, following the names that went by. Glancing up, he saw another person kneeling quietly by English's grave, one of the people who had been at the interrogation earlier. Silently, Amane walked up beside the man, placing a single white rose on the grave himself. Unsure whether he ought to say anything, the teen simply gave the stranger a small nod before turning his attention back to the headstone. It was odd, standing at the grave of someone who'd been alive days ago. Who he'd known for only a moment or two. And yet, he was different from just another witness, because he'd been able to interact with her before her sudden death. It was a very odd feeling, this mix of guilt and acceptance and sorrow and neutrality.

He looked up once more. There was an older woman, who looked distraught, and a young lady next to...wait. Wasn't that Ophelia? The girl looked...as though she didn't quite know what to make of everything, which made sense, in hindsight of what she'd talked about before. It must be even weirder for her, as Madame English had been her relative, too. Amane shuffled his feet indecisively. He wanted to go over to her and talk, make her feel more at ease, but was that improper for a funeral...? It wasn't like he'd been to very many before.

" Xel. Cover your eyes and follow me Xel. The last person we need to interrogate is at this aaaa... *cough* gentleman's place." Shawn said. " We'll be in and out in no time." He turned away from Xel and walked into Reyna's workplace. He walked up to the attendant at the counter and asked, " Do you know where I can find a woman that goes by the name Reyna?"

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*The man nodded and pointed down the way towards a woman who was wearing a slightly revealing outfit and had her hair tied up. She was suggestively dancing on the stage as Shawn made his way to her. When she saw Shawn walking towards her, she stopped and cursed under her breath. She turned her head* Hey Charlotte, finish my dance! *She then looked towards Shawn who motioned to the dressing rooms* Something I gotta do. *Reyna made her way off the stage and walked into the dressing room and sat down on a chair, with Shawn closing the door behind her. She grabbed a premade cigarette from a drawer in her desk* You really had to come to my work during the busy hours? *Reyna stuck the cigarettes tip into a candle to lit it before putting it in her mouth. She inhaled smoke before puffing it out and continuing after noticing Xel in the corner* That the little lackey

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" Yeah... That's Xel. He's working the case with me. He's a little young though. Not sure why they let him in the club." said Shawn. " Anyways, I think you have some information needed to solve this case and I'm gonna ask you questions to get them." He pulled out the book and the piece of cloth found at the crime scene. " Inspect these. These were found at the estate that Madame English died in. Do you know anyone these might belong to."

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*Reyna put her cigarette in her mouth and picked up the cloth and the book and looked at them. Reyna threw the things down lazily before taking the cigarette out of her mouth and speaking* Never seen these before *Reyna breathed out the smoke before continuing* Miss English was never an avid reader, she could read but she never enjoyed it. In addition to that, the cloth is too informal to have ever been one of hers. *Reyna took a puff from her cigarette and looked at Detective Westling before breathing out.* If you believe it's me then your wasting your time. I would never kill anyone, much less her.

---

For a minute, Ophelia was lost in her thoughts, but when she came back to earth, she noticed Amane standing there, looking just as awkward as she felt. She wasn't sure if she was relived that there was someone here who understood her situation here, or feel bad with the indecisive look on his face. Her eyes went to her grandmother, who was kneeling next to the headstone, sobbing into her handkerchief. Ophelia tugged at one of the black gloves on her hands, still watching her grandmother. While she held her in no high regards, she had a right to be upset. She had just lost her second daughter, after all. She wondered how this would effect her as time went on, when they went back home. Ophelia didn't really consider it home, as she had never felt welcome there, but she didn't really have anywhere else. Shaking her head a little, Ophelia turned her attention back to Amane, seeing that he hadn't moved. Awkwardly, she nodded, acknowledging that she had seen him. What else could she do? Her grandmother would be upset if she moved, though Ophelia desperately wanted to leave, and there wasn't much she could say. So, she simply stood, her hands clasped together.

---

After a few torturous moments of silence, Amane glanced around again to find...almost no change. He'd caught Ophelia's gentle nod, and after waiting several minutes, decided it wouldn't be completely improper to at the very least comfort the poor older woman, who had quite nearly turned her handkerchief into a soppy mess. Gingerly picking his way over to her, Amane rested a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Excuse me, madame," he said quietly, proffering a handkerchief from his pocket. "I just wanted to say, I am very sorry for what has happened. I sincerely appreciated your daughter's grace and talent, something I am sure she inherited from you." While there certainly was a part of him - okay, it was mostly why he'd approached her - that wanted to get out of there (and bring poor Ophelia with him), he couldn't help the pang of pity and sympathy. After all, no matter how aggravating she might be, she'd lost her daughter. That was a lot. "Perhaps," Amane continued, straightening slightly, "we might leave those closer to Madame English some time alone, as I am sure this is hardest for them." Glancing up at the little crowd, he hoped that the two adults were too preoccupied to realize that the only two who would be leaving...would be the two teenagers. "It might be good for us younger folk to move while we think. I for one, find that I process things better with a quiet stroll." Amane silently begged for this to work. He really, really wasn't sure how long he could awkwardly stand staring at a stone, no matter how sad or sorry for everything he was.

Ophelia's grandmother looked up, an almost comically tragic expression on her face. She accepted the hankercheif, wiping her eyes with it. "Thank you, young man," she murmered, looking at him for a minute before glancing back at the grave. Ophelia sighed, impatient to leave, though she could not and would not show it. "Grandmother, I agree that those closest to Madame English should be left to grieve in peace, no?" Her grandmother stood up, staring her down. "You know my rules about walking alone." "Yes, Grandmother, but please, I think that in light of your daughters death, I should leave." Her grandmother nodded. "Very well." She went back to the grave, silent for a minute before sighing and burrying her face into the cloth. Ophelia shook her head, gesturing for Amane to follow her, muttering under her breath, "I've been standing there for two hours."

---

Quickly turning and following after Ophelia, he was beyond relieved that his stunt had paid off. "Two hours?! I'd been there for maybe ten minutes and I was already done," Amane muttered back, offering his arm to her as they made their escape. "I'm just glad your grandmother bought it." With a hurried glance over his shoulder, the young man was relieved to find that the adults were completely preoccupied once more. "Sorry that I didn't come sooner," he said, raising his eyebrows. "If I'd have known that you were dealing with that, I'd have shown up as soon as possible." He chuckled a little, now that they were out of earshot. "Still, I wouldn't take my chances going too far. Your grandmother seems a bit overprotective." Although honestly...if a relative of his had tragically died right in front of him, he might be a little frantic about people he cared about going off on their own, too, no matter how illogical it was.