Everything was restored to its original state in Huntersberg later that night; apologies were made to the mayor, the murder case was closed and released to the public, and all the credit of the dramatic arrest and downfall of the murderer was given to the inspector.
"Why," asked Percy, leaning back into an armchair by the fireplace, "didn't you take any credit for that case? You practically solved it yourself without any of the police helping you, didn't you?"
They were now back at the cottage, resting after a day of hard work. Red and orange flames jumped up from the fireplace, desperate to lead out of the grate and spread its arms to the beautifully embroidered rug that laid in front of it. Mrs Hale strode forwards, poked the firewood around to prevent the flames from getting out of control, and returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner, where Evelyn was also lending a hand. Sigerson sat onto the blue couch, clutching the coded message from the scene an hour ago. He stared at it blankly for a while, then turned to Percy and answered, "I don't want to attract any attention to myself. By the way, will you have a look at this?"
He folded the paper in half and passed it to Percy, who received it with some confusion.
"Why, this is the paper we found today, isn't it? I don't think there's any meaning behind these words."
"How come it says 'found you' then?"
"Perhaps the writer was really a lunatic."
"Hmm… I wish that was really the situation here…"
Percy was even more bewildered than ever.
"You mean, it's not written by the culprit?"
"Let's decode this first. There are fourteen words; all of their first letters are capitalised and heavily emphasized. We can then assume that they are of great importance to this puzzle. Next, the words twice, up, and move are fully capitalised, bringing our attention to these three words. If we read it backwards, it says: 'move up twice'. What can 'move up twice' mean? I tested every probability I had in my mind and found if every letter of each word was replaced by a letter two places in front in the alphabet, a clear message would appear. So the 'G' in 'get' turns into 'I', the 'F' in 'first' turns to 'H' and on it goes."
"That makes…" Percy pulled out a pencil from a nearby drawer and jotted down the letters. "I–H–A–V–E… I have? It does seem to be making sense now…"
A minute later, the entire message was written down, but Percy, although he could see the entire sentence and its threatening intention, did not understand the purpose of it.
"I have warned you… To whom was this written, I wonder?"
"I know who wrote this, but—" Sigerson eyed Mrs Hale and Thomas warily. "—I'll have to tell you somewhere where we'll not be overheard by your family."
Percy dragged himself off the cushioned armchair somewhat reluctantly, led the detective to his bedroom, and pushed open the squeaking door for him.
It was furnished quite plainly; in contrast to the earthy brown of the magnificent oak walls in the other parts of the cottage, Percy's room was painted with a tint of rich emerald green, mimicking the colour palette of the scenery outside. A simple bed, which was a lighter shade of lime, sat at the left side of the room, while a uniquely carved desk and wardrobe adorned the right with a precious alabaster jar laid on top of it like a golden egg among chickens. Everything was spotless; his mother frequently cleaned after him while he was away on journeys.
"Anyways," said Percy, shutting the door firmly behind him to make sure no one could eavesdrop on them during their private conversation. "Who wrote this?"
"Have you ever heard of Elysius Blight?"
"Blight? No, I don't think I can. Is he well known?"
"He himself is not to the public, but some of his subordinates are. You've definitely heard of August Rook, haven't you?"
"Everybody's heard of him. Most of my pals back at the training camp revered Rook. In fact, I don't think there's a single person in the country who has never heard of his name."
"Right. Well, this is most likely his handwriting," stated Sigerson, bringing out the sheet of paper again. "I've seen it too many times in my life, even in Blight's household."
"Who is this Elysius Blight? He sounds like trouble from what I've heard from you so far."
"Half of the wealth in this country belongs to him, as well as half of the crimes committed. He's not so much of a predator but more of a wildfire; he sparks conflicts between people and lets them commit crimes for him. It's almost impossible to trace murders or thefts back to him; either the culprits of his crimes are assassinated and the evidence swiftly destroyed, or their motive and evidence used against them is so undeniably strong that nobody questions the existence of an outside party."
"How did you know it was Blight then?"
"There was one crime he failed to cover up completely; that was in July, I think."
He breathed in and out calmly before continuing.
"The crime in question was the boiler explosion at Wensworth Factory. Before the explosion even took place, Blight had suggested a contract with Mr Wensworth that would pass the ownership of both of their companies into both of their hands, sharing the profit between themselves. This, although it cost Blight quite a fortune since Wensworth Factories could no longer produce resources effectively, made sure that Blight had total control over the coal industry, as all the companies before him had either collapsed or collaborated with him in secret. When I realised Blight's coal monopoly, I suspected him of planning the explosion to force Wensworth into accepting the conditions he had presented to him earlier that week.
After the incident, Wensworth's secretary, Towns, was found dead, shot to death by an invisible shooter in a multi-storey building. At the scene of the crime, I found much evidence against Rook, one of Blight's subordinates as I said before. However, when the police used the footprints to track down the killer, it led them to a completely different suspect, whom they arrested and put on trial. All the circumstantial evidence at the crime scene was cleverly manipulated to point to him; moreover, the suspect himself confessed to the crimes and was therefore charged and sent to the scaffold where he was hanged a few days ago. But… I've always felt something was wrong…"
The detective paused for a bit, thinking what the best way to explain his complicated story was. Percy lounged on his bed, expecting him to resume at any moment, while Sigerson struggled for the correct words to use.
"It just doesn't seem right, does it? The executed suspect, although he had a criminal record before, had no experience with firearms and yet, the shot was made from hundreds of metres away… That just can't be possible… The cigar I found… He never smoked those either…"
His voice gradually dropped. Suddenly, Percy sat up with a loud clap and exclaimed, "Now I remember! Mr Blight, the one you were talking about, is a piano virtuoso and an excellent composer as well. I had a memory of me and my friends going to the theatres he was performing in."
"Theatres? Do you mean the one in Sodor?"
"No, not that one. I remember it clearly; it was a smaller shabbier one in Alms. District 4, I think. Hypnotic and soothingly calm would be the words to describe the atmosphere back then…"
Gazing out of the window dreamily, Percy seemed to be incapable of speech for a minute, silently reflecting on his memory. He stared off into the night sky as if recalling the pleasant memory.
So he has appeared in public before. Why then was I incapable of finding any information at all? Surely his activities were all passed off as charity, just like the orphanages he built and sponsored.
"If you want, I can search for the theatre's records; there might be something there I can show you."
"Thanks. Could I ask you to find the date as well?"
"No problem."
Two knocks on the door alerted the two of them and prompted them to suddenly fall silent. Mrs Hale's voice on the other side told them to come out for dinner, while Thomas' whiny cries could also be heard, begging his older brother to hurry up.
"I'll be back with information tomorrow. For now, let's just enjoy dinner and talk about other things at the table; my mother would faint if she had a clue on what we were talking about."
—
After dinner was finished, the table cleared, and the dishes washed, they all retired to the living room, while Mrs Hale once again rushed off to tidy up the other parts of the house. The night air seeped in through small openings from the windows, providing a cool contrast with the roaring fireplace in front of them. Soft chirps rang out from the garden bushes below the sash of a tinted window. As they all sat around, Percy and Thomas withdrew to their usual activities, reading reports and scribbling pictures. The guests, having nothing to do, requested permission to turn in for the night.
"Just a minute, Sigerson," said Percy, rising from his seat and making his way over to his younger sibling, who was so preoccupied with his drawing, he never noticed Percy sneaking up behind him until it was too late. He was picked up and, struggling as hard as he could by flailing his arms around like a bird trapped in a net, was carried into his bedroom by his brother.
They exchanged a few hushed words at the entrance of the room, then Thomas retreated back in, closing the door half-heartedly in Percy's presence. Once he had made sure that nobody was around the living room to listen to their conversation— including his mother, whom he had asked to leave them for some time, Percy returned and brought a platter of chocolate chip cookies Mrs Hale had prepared earlier for the guests.
"Do you mind if I have a smoke?" he asked, taking out a cigar from a cardboard box. His eyes darted between Sigerson and Evelyn, waiting for one of them to object. When none of them did and told him they were fine with it, he lit the cigar and placed it between his calm lips with steady fingers.
"Anyways, now that we have this room to ourselves, I think it is time to decide on our next course of action, if you understand what I mean."
They both nodded, prompting him to go on and elaborate further.
"Although the Enforcers are currently chasing a fake trail right now, it won't take long for them to figure out you're here, so the question is this: how are we going to safely transport you away from Huntersberg?"
All of them sat in reverie, pondering about the different methods they could use to escape.
"I don't suppose there are any other towns around here?" asked Evelyn, staring straight at Percy with her flashing emerald eyes so intently, he turned pink and dropped his gaze.
"We can't travel anywhere by foot, if that's what you're thinking," stated Sigerson flatly. "The forest stretches across this land for about fifty kilometres. But…"
"The train stations are also being watched," said Percy usefully. "Only the stations that go beyond Huntersberg are. I suspect the director must think you would try to escape as far as possible away from them, so he never ordered the men to watch the stations close to Sodor, although I suppose it still would be advisable to be as inconspicuous as possible…"
"Does he think those stations are close enough to headquarters or does he want to lure us there?" Sigerson wondered aloud. "If the stations are close to headquarters, it would mean the time needed to travel between the two places is significantly shorter, making arrests more effective."
"Wait— that can't be," piped Evelyn suddenly, drawing all attention to herself. "It took us a few days to get here by train, so the Enforcers would also need at least two days to get here with the fastest train in the country. Why would they leave this town out of surveillance?"
Percy shrugged his shoulders.
"Beats me," said he, blowing out a cloud of smoke, which was blown away and dispersed quickly by a soft breeze flowing through the miniscule crack from the open window. "They must have thought my presence here in this little town was enough."
Still aware of an unsettling feeling in his chest, the troubled detective sank back in thought, his eyebrows furrowed and his lean hands clasped together tightly. First, he had Blight to worry about and now the Enforcers were after them too. There had to be some way he could clear his name or at least turn their eyes away temporarily… What was the appropriate move now? Suppose he did manage to clear his name. That would take time and leave many more people vulnerable, perhaps even causing casualties to mount unpredictably.
Think… Something must be able to converge these two paths together…
Memories ran through his mind like a film; everything he had experienced during the past few months spun in and out, weaving through the crevices of his thoughts. Out of nowhere, the smug face of Patrick Hartland, Blight's henchman, flew in and materialised subconsciously, triggering a flash that caused him to realise the importance of their encounter with him in Eden. At the same moment, a plan formulated like a peculiar concoction brimming with uncertain variables and undecided conditions. The risk was immense; the consequences would be disastrous if anything strayed from the calculated path, but since he had an abundance of intel, it was definitely worthwhile to attempt his plan. But first…
"I'm going to have a mountain of work when I return to give the report to Grock," groaned Percy, flipping away from a newspaper article.
Hold on… It's been ten days since that meeting… This reminder must be linked to it. Something must have happened in that train, most likely a provocative attack to enrage the government of Revalty…
"Do you want to have a look at it?" offered Percy, holding up the newspaper for him. Sigerson accepted it gladly, rifled through messily and quickly found what he was searching for. A brief article stood out to him, claiming that a murderous shooting took place on the train carrying the Custodians and a Revaltian politician, who had met them in a specially guarded carriage.
"According to the passage," read Sigerson softly, "the shooter was the politician from Revalty coming to negotiate terms with them. Is that true?"
"Yes. At headquarters, we were all told of this meeting, thus preparations were made. There's going to be so much to do though… An investigation's probably going to be made to uncover the weapon's origin and other trivial details…"
As Percy continued grumbling about his piling work, Sigerson quickly cut in.
"It says here that the assailant was shot down by Rook."
"I noticed that as well. I suppose you suspect him of something, don't you?"
"Hmm… It certainly is suspicious, as the article claims all nine of the Custodians were shot down… What do you think, Evie?"
Evelyn, who at the time was silently listening to their conversation without much thought, blinked rapidly, surprised to be asked for her opinion. Her face was slightly pinker and her expression aloof as she requested for the newspaper, which she buried her face behind the instant she received it.
Some time elapsed before she was ready to share her thoughts, shyly peeking at them from over the top of the page like a timid kitten. She cleared her throat, gaining more confidence, before she spoke in a more serious tone.
"There are many points of suspicion regarding Rook's involvement with this shooting. Why did he not enter and protect the Custodians before all nine were shot to death, though he was seated in an adjoining carriage?"
"Maybe he wanted to make sure it was safe before doing so?" suggested Percy.
"The maximum number of bullets any revolver can hold in the world is six. Since we know that the assailant possessed a revolver containing six bullets, we therefore know that he could only fire six shots before reloading. What was Rook doing when the shooting temporarily stopped? He could have easily used this opportunity to overpower the assailant and yet, he did not. Don't you find this strange?"
"Now that I think about it, you may be right, but it's still undeniable that Rook might have been a tad bit too slow in responding—"
"He was a soldier— a rather bold one too," said Evelyn. "That doesn't fit in with his personality in the war."
Evie is right. It's odd that Rook would cower before an enemy, then shoot them… Besides, being an ex-soldier, he would know that the revolver had a maximum of six shots, so he could have easily waited for them to be fired before taking action, but instead waited for all nine Custodians to fall dead. Blight must have used him to remove the politician in case he was questioned later. Why did he have this crime committed in broad daylight?
He needed witnesses… Put the blame on Revalty, and war will swiftly follow… Everything he has prepared leads to this: an uncontrollable war between Revalty and Ecclesia… His entire mindset is built around making innocent people choose immoral decisions to save themselves; this would certainly be a chance he would never miss…