Miles and Ethan walked in silence, the unfamiliar rhythm of a shared mission settling awkwardly between them. Ethan, a man of few words, led the way with a sense of practiced direction, his gaze sharp and focused on the bustling streets. They were heading to the city park, and Miles felt a sense of both dread and anticipation.
"Just so we're clear, Corbane," Ethan said, his voice flat. "I'll do the talking. You just look around. If you notice anything strange, anything at all, you let me know."
Miles nodded, "but how's can we find anything about the girl?" Ethan ignored him and he diverted his eyes from Ethan to the surroundings, his eyes wide as they moved through the city. He couldn't help but absorb the surroundings. He used his new Observation skill, taking in every detail. The faint scent of freshly baked bread from a corner bakery, the sound of a distant street performer playing a melancholy tune on a violin, the sight of children chasing pigeons in a public square. He felt a strange sense of familiarity.
They finally reached the city park. The moment Miles stepped onto the path, a jolt of recognition ran through him. The rows of old oak trees, the winding cobblestone path, the ornate streetlamps—he had been here before. The memories, once blurred by rain and darkness, began to come into focus. He remembered seeing her, Katherine Vance, her shoulders shaking with sobs as she sat huddled under the awning of a building.
"I think I remember this place," Miles said, his voice a low whisper. "She was sitting somewhere, I don't know the place since I'm not very familiar with the city. At the front of a house."
Ethan stopped, his piercing gaze fixed on Miles. "You have met her before?"
"Yes, I saw her twice on the same day, it was yesterday before the exam and after the exam but the second time she was...crying, I don't know why and of course I tried to persuade her to tell me what happened and she could barely complete her name." Miles explained the scene still vivid in his mind.
"There might be something that made her depressed." Ethan stared wondering how they would gather their first clue.
"Yeah," Miles said, the memory becoming clearer. "It was raining. She was crying. She didn't have an umbrella, just sitting there under the drizzling rain."
Ethan's expression didn't change, but he gave a curt nod. "Good. If you recognize any other locations, point them out. It could be important." Miles nodded at his request.
They continued their walk, with Miles now acting as an unofficial guide, his mind sifting through the memories of that night. He remembered walking back toward his house, the rain turning into a heavy downpour, and then a faint, unsteady figure running away from him.
They passed a row of houses, their facades grand and imposing. As they walked by a particular two-story house with a green door, Miles's steps faltered. The memory was still blurry, but the porch, the large bay windows, it all felt undeniably familiar.
"This," Miles said, pointing at the house. "This is it. This is the house."
Ethan's eyes narrowed, taking in the details of the house which still felt familiar to him. He made a mental note before they continued on their way.
Meanwhile, back at the Aethelred Institute, Inspector Finch sat in the office department, the quiet hum of his private communication device a stark contrast to the bustle of the main hall.
He was reviewing the initial report on Katherine Vance's death, his brow furrowed in concentration. The police had been quick to label it a suicide, and he had a bad feeling about it, staring at the picture skeptically, eyes engrossed in the black and white photo of the dead Katherine vance.
Suddenly, the device buzzed with an incoming call. The caller ID showed it was from the city's private hospital, the one where Eleanor's body was undergoing an autopsy. He answered the call.
"Hello this is inspector Finch how many I help you," he said, his voice cold and straight forward.
"Inspector," the voice on the other end, a doctor named Alistair, replied, his tone grim. "I found something but I'm yet to cmplete the autopsy on the Vance girl. I wanted to tell you about what I found and I've just confirmed, It's not a suicide."
Finch sat up straight, his face a mask of cold professionalism and Cecilia seeing how he stood up swiftly gave a "what happened" look. "Go on, Doctor." Inspector Finch said.
"She was dead before her wrists were cut," Alistair stated, his voice quiet but firm. "The blood spatter patterns and the lack of vital signs indicate she was deceased before the act was committed. And there's a knife."
"A knife? The police never said anything about a knife!" Inspector to Finch asked in bewilderment.
"Her mother took the knife, she didn't trust the police since they were the cause of her husband's death , she gave me the knife to see if I could trace it, I told her I'm incapable of tracing it so I recommended you to her, at first she didn't like the idea but I succeeded in persuading her, when you are free to come she'll give it to you." Alistair explained.
"I'll do just that, and the cause of death?" Inspector Finch pressed. "What killed her?"
"That's the mystery, Inspector," Alistair replied, a note of frustration in his voice. "I've run every test, but there's no trace of poison, no marks of strangulation, no sign of blunt force trauma. Her death was completely silent, completely without a physical trace. I'll need more time, but I'm telling you, this is a clean, professional kill and she was pregnant before she died, just three weeks pregnant, how brutal for such a young lady."
Inspector Finch's hand tightened around the telephone. The police had been wrong. This wasn't a suicide at all. This was murder. And his team, the Aethelred Initiative for Singular Cases, had just gotten their first real case, but this wasn't his first case, but he wasn't the head in his department, so this was going to be a little different and difficult. He hung up, placing it on the cradle and slammed his palms on his desk, his mind already racing with the implications. He had to call Miles and Ethan. They were on the ground now, with a killer on the loose.
"What happened? What happened? What did he say?" Cecilia questioned, noticing the little glimmer of frustration in the man's eyes.
"He haven't yet found out what killed her since he said it was a professional death, I think the killer might have killed her because wasn't ready to be a father?" Inspector Finch wondered and Cecilia eyes widened in shock.
"She was pregnant?! How brutal!"