“We failed, didn’t we?” I lazily kicked a pebble in front of my feet, hands inside my pocket, Mulberry’s recent death nagging at me. “What now? We just go home once Savio returns?”

  Fred sat on a boulder, hands clasped together. He stared ahead as the cops poured through the front door, not answering me.

  Not this time, I thought. Something bad just happened.

  “Fred—”

  “No,” he said, cutting me short. “We’ve only been denied a clear victory.”

  I was perplexed.

  “But Mulberry is dead. He was the werebear. The case is over.”

  He blinked slowly. That gave me pause. This case was messing with him more than I realized.

  “Connie,” he said, making my heart skip a beat.

  It seemed like he was going to tell me something at last.

  I stopped near the boulder, fidgeting with my hands. “Yes, Fred?”

  “Never mind.”

  He was infuriating beyond words.

  “Oh, damn it!” I kicked this one pebble so hard it pierced the nearby tree. “I should have known!”

  “There’s something else.”

  “Screw it! I don’t wanna hear it anymore!”

  He spoke anyway. “We haven’t been called to catch a werebear.”

  I blinked rapidly at that, confused. “Huh?”

  Fred stood up. “Put the threads back in place once the cops are gone. I’m going to make sure everyone is still here.”

  “Fine!” I said, trying very hard to stay mad at him. “Let me know if something happens then!”

  It wasn’t working very well, to be honest. I went to check on the setup with a sigh.

  The cops were finally gone when Fred made me a strange request.

  Bring Edgar to me. I want to ask him about Lady Mulberry’s condition, and only him.

  I think Dr. Wickham is still here. Don’t you want me to call him instead?

  Fred shook his head.

  It must be the butler.

  I thought he was losing his mind after what happened, but you know, I trusted him. A lot.

  So, I fetched Edgar. He seemed surprised to see we were still around.

  He pushed his glasses back with his finger. “Yes?”

  Fred stood by Lady Mulberry’s door, arms crossed. “Do you think she’s ready to answer some questions?”

  Edgar looked at the door, pondering for a second, then back at Fred. “I believe she went through a lot. First the fire, now her husband... it might be best to not disturb her.”

  “I’m afraid this won’t be possible.”

  “Why? Your case is solved, even if not in the best of circumstances. If this is about money, I’m sure I can put something together—”

  “Keep your money. I suspect someone’s been stealing from this family. That’s why I’m here.”

  “That’s... unfortunate. But you’re mistaken. The Mulberry estate has been through some hardships due to weather changes—”

  Of all the strange things Fred did since we arrived, from staring at the windows to the apple trick, this was the worst.

  He wrapped his arms around his own head and stuck his tongue out with a grimace like some contortionist demon.

  Oh, Fred. My poor maker. You’re losing it.

  Edgar froze, likely as speechless as I was.

  Frederick got out of that creepy stance and patted his shoulder as if nothing happened. “Well, I just want to rule out this possibility before we leave. I have a strong intuition, and it’s killing me right now.”

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  “Alright.”

  “That’d be all. Thank you.”

  They stared at each other for a while.

  I was used to weird. Weird was my job. But sometimes Fred gave a new meaning to the word 'weird'.

  He waited for Edgar to walk away first to enter the room, then closed the door behind him.

  But before that, he slipped me a note.

  I never blushed so hard reading something. It read:

  Meet at the wine cellar.

  I looked around me frantically to make sure nobody read that.

  Is it finally happening? I mean, what’s happening? Is this allowed?

  Afraid to end up overthinking this whole thing, I flew towards the cellar without looking back. Quietly, though, as I didn’t want anyone to think silly things.

  I giggled.

  The wine cellar was dark; there was no one here but me this time. So, I just sat there in the dark as my head spun in hot circles.

  Oh my God. What is he thinking?

  My eyes shot wide.

  Wait. Is this one of those situations where I think it’s something, but then I realize it’s something else? But wait again, what am I thinking this is?

  I covered my mouth with both hands, suppressing a squeal.

  I’ve never done this before, though. What if he just wants to use me?

  I shook my head.

  Fred would never.

  My hands dropped limp to my side at the new realization I just had:

  It’s more likely that he’ll just get down here and say ‘Never mind’ in that stupid low velveted voice of his. So very stupid.

  I helped myself to one of the wine caskets nearby, then sat down again, a full glass in my hand.

  “I’m getting paid either way. Hmpf!”

  I was getting bored, slightly drunk as well. Could this be considered theft?

  Technically—hic—I’m a guest.

  I was about to chug another glass when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

  Fred?

  Black pants, black shoes. Why would he make me wait so long, though?

  This seemed like a mighty good time for that complaint.

  I sprang to my feet at the same time as he flicked the lights on. “You were trying to get me drunk, you—”

  My head tilted. “Edgar?”

  It was Edgar the butler, but he carried a big, heavy sack on his back. Familiar shapes pressed against the white fabric—paintings, statuettes, chandeliers, and other things I saw around the mansion.

  “Hello, Ms. Concordia.”

  “Are you stealing?”

  He didn’t answer, but it was clear as day now.

  A low, muffled voice came from the portcullis behind me as someone opened it from outside. “He is stealing, in fact—”

  Fred thrust his head through the hole. “Mr. Kemp has been stealing for years. Only God knows how long.”

  I looked back and forth at them, unsure what to say. Edgar seemed so polite. But still, the evidence was undeniable.

  Fred slid down the ladder and stopped next to me.

  “You tricked me!” I shot an accusing finger at him.

  He side-eyed me. “How did I trick you exactly?”

  “You said... you... Argh!”

  “You’re clearly intoxicated.”

  I wanted to strangle him so badly.

  But also, I expected Edgar to say something in his defense, anything. Instead, he just stood there, watching us.

  Fred read the thought out of my face. “He won’t.”

  Edgar’s eyes twitched slightly at that. “And why is that?”

  “You know, Mr. Kemper. I don’t usually attach emotion to my cases. It’s just work. But you...” Fred’s face darkened as I’ve never seen before. “I despise you.”

  What’s this suddenly? I thought we were just catching a thief.

  “You don’t know me,” Edgar said, dropping the sack.

  “Oh, but I know exactly what you are. I’ve known since day one. You showed me.”

  The butler frowned. Whatever Fred was doing, it finally hit a nerve.

  Fred continued. “What kind of butler doesn’t announce visitors? What kind of murderer doesn’t act when a detective shows up at the scene? What kind of person doesn’t react to the antics of a God-forsaken motherfucker like me?”

  “No!”

  “You’re a coward, Mr. Kemper.”

  My heart screamed when Edgar pulled a revolver from his back—I jumped in front of Fred, shielding him with my body.

  Click.

  I stared at the gun, panting. Nothing came out of it.

  “Shit!” Edgar smacked the revolver, trying to unjam it.

  Fred gently pushed me aside. “And like every coward, you lash out when confronted with the truth.”

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  He pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket. “I asked Savio to do me a favor, just in case.”

  I chuckled nervously at that.

  “Now.” Fred put them back in his pocket. “Sing Mr. Kemper a lullaby.”

  I looked at him, puzzled. “Huh?”

  Fred rolled his eyes. “Knock him out.”

  “Ah, right.”

  Edgar Kemper’s eyes widened as I approached him. “Wait—”

  “Hya!!!”

  The cops were called back. Kemper would be charged with theft, not murder, but the Mulberries were aristocrats, so maybe nepotism would serve a good cause this time.

  It was windy, and the sun was about to set. Fred sat on that same boulder smoking the cigarettes Savio brought him, staring at nothing, thinking about everything nobody else dared to.

  I approached him slowly, hands behind my back, thinking about what he said earlier.

  “Fred, I don’t get it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think Kemper killed Sebastian? But we saw the wound. We heard the confession.”

  “Indirectly, he did. He killed them both. In any meaningful way, that is.”

  “Huh?”

  “As I said, the answers lie with Lady Mulberry. In short, she knew about her husband’s condition. Being the snake that he is, Edgar knew by proxy, since he read all her letters. He also learned a way to trigger the transformation somehow, likely through the gout medicine that was ever present in letters.”

  “So... Sebastian found out Edgar was stealing, so he set a drugged Mulberry on his brother?”

  “Most likely. Almost certainly.”

  “Bloody hell...” I sat beside him.

  The mystery was solved, but still, something bothered me.

  “When you confronted Edgar... that was personal,” I said, rubbing my arm. “Why?”

  I didn’t think he was going to answer, but I had to try. You know, I didn’t really care about solving all the world’s problems; all the mysteries abound. But I cared about him more than anything.

  “Lord Mulberry, much like me, was a man who didn’t trust anyone but his butler. And in the end...” Fred inhaled a lungful of smoke. “It seems like he shouldn’t have trusted anyone at all.”

  I looked at him. “Fred...”

  “Relax. You’re not someone. You’re just my marionette.”

  I was about to protest. Perhaps I should have. But that would’ve been costly, I realized.

  “You’re such an asshole,” I said instead.

  He didn’t say anything in his defense. I don’t think he cared.

  “Connie, if you ever...” he said, flicking a switch in my heart immediately.

  It seemed like he had something important to say this time.

  I moved closer to him on the boulder. “Yes, Fred?”

  “Never mind.”

  My head dropped as I sighed. I don’t think he did this on purpose, though.

  It was a matter of trust.

  Savio burst through the front door, a brass phone in his hands.

  “Fred,” he said. “They want you.”

  Who died this time? I wondered.

  Fred stood up, the sky purple behind him, and threw the black coat over his shoulders like a cape.

  I felt the temperature drop as his lips parted.

  “We’ve got work to do.”