The adventure of a modern day detective turned aristocrat

Evelyne's gaze fixed on the red-haired woman, her emerald eyes sharp with scrutiny. "You. Step forward," she commanded, her voice calm but firm.

The woman hesitated before stepping into the circle of noble scrutiny. "I—I saw a woman leave with Lord Hawke," she admitted, her voice trembling. Then, she turned abruptly and pointed across the room. "It was her. Lady Alice Durnham."

Gasps rippled through the crowd like a stone dropped in still water.

Lady Alice, Cassius Durnham's wife, stiffened, her green hair framing her pale face. "You're lying, Denise Trogga! I thought you were my friend!" she spat, glaring at the red-haired woman.

Denise held her ground. "I saw you leave with him. You were being indecent with Lord Hawke. Kissing. Intimate," she added, her voice brimming with righteous condemnation. "A married woman! How scandalous."

Alice paled, then let out a shuddering breath. "I won't deny I was with him. But I did not kill him."

The room erupted in hushed whispers, shifting like waves, as another noblewoman hesitantly stepped forward. "I saw it too," she admitted. "Lady Alice left the ballroom, sneaking away with Lord Hawke."

Before Evelyne could respond, a deep voice cut through the murmurs. "That's not right," a nobleman interjected. He was tall and rigid, his expression unreadable. "I saw Lord Cassius himself in a room with Lord Hawke, and they were arguing."

Cassius's jaw tightened. "Yes," he admitted, his voice taut with tension. "I confronted Hawke. I saw my wife leave his room—her dress disheveled, her face flushed. It was obvious what had transpired." His lips curled into a sneer. "I demanded an explanation."

"What did Lord Hawke say?" Evelyne's voice was even, but her mind raced.

Cassius's eyes darkened. "He mocked me. Said I wasn't enough for my wife." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Said he was the only one who could satisfy her." He let out a slow exhale. "I was furious. I left. But I did not kill him."

More murmurs. Suspicion hung thick in the air.

"The way you stormed out—" another noble began, voice wary.

Evelyne raised a hand, silencing them. "There's more to this. The story doesn't add up."

She turned, her mind piecing together the puzzle. "Lord Hawke was stabbed in the anteroom, but his body was found in the ballroom." She took a step forward, eyes scanning the crowd. "There were no signs of struggle. No forced movement. That means Lord Hawke moved himself."

Silence.

"Why?" Evelyne's voice cut through the air like a knife. "Why would a dying man drag himself to the ballroom?"

Cassius shifted uncomfortably. Lady Alice swallowed hard. Denise narrowed her eyes.

Evelyne continued, pacing now, the pieces clicking into place. "Someone wanted to kill him. But Hawke… he wanted to send a message." She turned sharply. "Where exactly was his body found?"

A butler stepped forward, his hands shaking. "B-by the grand staircase."

Evelyne's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then he was trying to get somewhere. Or to someone."

She turned to the noble who had seen Cassius and Hawke argue. "How long after their argument did you see Lord Hawke alive?"

The man hesitated. "Not long. Perhaps fifteen minutes."

"And you," she turned to Lady Alice, "when did you last see him?"

Alice's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "After… after I left his room. I didn't look back."

Evelyne folded her arms. "Which means he was alive after both encounters."

Cassius's eyes darted away. Alice clenched her fists. Denise looked smug.

"But that still doesn't answer one thing." Evelyne's voice lowered, dangerous now. "Who stabbed him?"

A hush fell over the room.

"Lord Hawke was stabbed with precision. No struggle. No resistance." Evelyne's sharp eyes landed on Cassius. "Which means it had to be someone he trusted."

Cassius paled.

"And someone who knew just where to strike."

Alice's breath hitched.

Evelyne exhaled slowly. "The only question left is…" Her gaze swept the room. "Was it the husband? The wife? Or someone neither of them expected?"

The tension in the room crackled like a storm about to break.

"I need to see the anteroom," Evelyne declared. "Because I think Lord Hawke left us a final clue before he died."

The nobles murmured among themselves as Evelyne strode toward the crime scene. The anteroom was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old cigars and brandy. She scanned the space, her eyes landing on a smudge of blood near the edge of a desk. Bending down, she examined it closely. A faint mark—a deliberate one.

Evelyne's breath caught. "He wrote something."

She gestured for a candle to be brought closer, illuminating the faint letters. "L…O…" she muttered, tracing the barely visible streaks. The rest was smeared beyond recognition.

"What does it mean?" Cassius demanded, his voice hoarse.

Evelyne straightened, deep in thought. "Lord Hawke was dying. He had only moments. Whatever he wrote, it was meant to name his killer."

Denise gasped. "But it's incomplete!"

"Yes," Evelyne agreed. "Which means our killer's name started with 'L' and 'O'…"

The room fell silent as everyone processed the implication. Alice took a step back, her eyes darting toward the exit. Cassius clenched his fists. The gathered nobles exchanged nervous glances.

Then, a soft, almost amused chuckle broke the silence.

"I believe we've been chasing the wrong suspect," Evelyne murmured, her green eyes gleaming. "The truth has been staring us in the face all along."