Chapter 118: The Hound of the Baskervilles (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 118: The Hound of the Baskervilles (6)
“Miss Holmes.”
“……..”
“I’m scared…”
A few minutes after Isaac Adler found a threatening message inside his room, he was still at it.
“Should I leave the estate right now?”
“………”
“I’m feeling so anxious that I think I’ll go insane at this rate. Miss Watson, could you pour me a brandy, perhaps…?”
“… Would you please shut up already?”
Charlotte Holmes, who had come to Adler’s room along with Gia Lestrade and Rachel Watson to examine the letter, finally had enough of Adler’s fidgeting and whining. She cut him off with a sharp whisper.
“……..”
“Oh dear. A threatening letter? That sounds serious.”
As Adler wilted with a downcast expression, a new voice spoke up from the side.
“If you stay here after receiving such a dreadful thing, won’t it be incredibly dangerous for you?”
“……..”
“So, why not get the hell out of this pl—I mean, shouldn't you evacuate immediately?”
Helen Baskerville, the heir of the mansion, was passing by with her hands behind her back. She was pressuring Adler with a voice much sharper than it had been just a few days ago.
“Ah, Miss Helen. I’m very sorry to hear about your relative…”
“I have no desire to hear the same words that have already been repeated to me dozens of times this morning. So, what do you think of my suggestion?”
“… Of course, it’s frightening, but leaving like this would feel even more unsettling.”
Reading the subtle hostility in her tone, Isaac Adler began a tense exchange, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
“It seems I must find out who dislikes my stay in this mansion enough to engage in such nasty, childish antics before I can leave with a clear conscience.”
“… Are you implying that you suspect me?”
“Oh, did it sound that way to you?”
It was a rare sight to see Adler actually confronting a woman, leaving Watson and Lestrade with puzzled expressions.
“… Don’t worry, Mr. Adler.”
Amidst the increasingly chilly atmosphere, Charlotte Holmes finished scrutinizing the letter. She placed it on the desk and finally spoke.
“That letter isn't addressed to you.”
“… What?”
“What do you mean, Holmes?”
With both Lestrade and Watson looking even more perplexed than Adler, Charlotte quietly tapped the desk and began to explain.
“If the letter simply said 'treasure your life,' I too would have guessed it was meant for Adler.”
“But? What then?”
“However, the letter states, 'life and purity,' doesn't it?”
Watson and Lestrade began nodding as the realization hit them.
“In London—no, in all of Britain—if you had to name the person for whom 'purity' is the most meaningless concept, eight out of ten would cast their vote for Isaac Adler.”
“That’s harsh…”
“Of course, it might be a code only Isaac Adler could decipher. But if that were the case, given his nature, he wouldn’t have brought it to us in the first place.”
Despite Adler’s glum protest, Charlotte continued her deduction, paying him no heed.
“Then, who is the letter really for?”
“That should be obvious.”
Charlotte quietly turned her gaze, responding to the question from Helen Baskerville, who had been listening intently.
“The recipient of this letter is, in fact, you.”
“… Me?”
“It’s you who received the threatening letter.”
A brief silence crept into the room at her declaration.
“Miss Helen, who was originally supposed to stay in this room?”
“… Yes. It was arranged for me to stay here, but my uncle, Sir Charles, took it upon himself to change the arrangement.”
“I suspected as much.”
Charlotte Holmes gazed down at the letter, her lips curling subtly in satisfaction at being right.
“The sender was unaware of that fact and delivered the letter in secret. Thus, they inadvertently caused Mr. Adler to be frightened.”
“But who would do this, and why…?”
“As I am not the one who sent it, I’m afraid I don’t know the details yet.”
She turned back to Helen.
“The sender is well-educated, subscribes to The Times, and is quite close to you, but is not a member of this household. That is all I can deduce for now.”
“… How can you possibly know all that?”
“It’s a simple deduction, really.”
Charlotte, looking quite pleased with herself, began to explain in response to Helen’s startled reaction.
“To my eyes, the neat 9-point typeface of The Times and the print of a cheap weekly paper appear considerably different. It’s actually basic knowledge for a criminal expert, you see.”
“Ah…”
“And although the words were clipped out to avoid detection, the fact that they subscribe to The Times suggests they are highly educated. Furthermore, it must be someone intimate enough to know you were originally supposed to stay in this room.”
“………”
“However, it doesn't seem to be someone from this household. They were clearly unaware that Adler took over the room instead of you.”
Charlotte finished her explanation and posed a question to Helen, who was staring back at her with a stunned expression.
“Doesn’t this narrow down the possibilities quite a bit?”
“………”
“You must have at least one person in mind who fits the bill, don’t you?”
Helen Baskerville, her face pale, quietly nodded.
“There is… one person, indeed.”
“That makes it simple, then. If we rummage through the garbage bin at that person’s home and find the scraps of the typeface that were clipped out, that will be the end of it.”
Charlotte rose to her feet immediately, urging Helen with a glance.
“What are you waiting for? Lead the way.”
“… Amazing, Miss Holmes~”
“… Quiet.”
Her voice was icy in response to Isaac Adler’s teasing voice from behind.
“I know for a fact that you knew from the beginning that the letter wasn’t meant for you.”
“… I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”
“Hmph.”
As Adler feigned ignorance, tilting his head until the very end, Charlotte cast a side glance at him. She murmured to herself as she started walking alongside Helen.
“… Why do I keep feeling like you’re intentionally delaying things?”
“………”
“Well, for now, I’ll play along with your rhythm.”
She sighed, standing by the doorway as she finished her thought.
“After this case is over, will you take responsibility for your actions…?”
“Let’s go together.”
However, Adler, who had quietly approached right behind her, interjected with a bright smile and a whisper. Charlotte’s expression soured instantly.
“… I wasn’t going to say this, but frankly, you’re one of the prime suspects in this case. And yet you still insist on meddling?”
“Ehehe.”
Adler slid his fingers between hers, interlocking them, and beamed at her with a carefree smile.
“That’s not the kind of situation you can smile your way out of, you know?”
But a few minutes later, Charlotte found herself walking across the moor, hand in hand with Adler, her head bowed deeply in embarrassment.
“… You were swayed, weren't you?”
“Shut up.”
.
.
.
.
.
“Excuse me…”
“……….”
“I have a question.”
Helen Baskerville, leading Adler and Charlotte as they awkwardly held hands, couldn’t hold back any longer.
“… Are you two in a romantic relationship?”
“The reason I’m accompanying Isaac Adler is not for such a foolish reason. It’s purely to keep an eye on one of the prime suspects—”
- Click…
“… Uh.”
Charlotte, who had immediately responded with a cold voice, was cut off as Adler suddenly kissed her on the neck. Her words halted abruptly.
“It seems the recent rumors spreading across England were true…”
“No, my girlfriend is Gia Lestrade, you know?”
“… Are you talking about the person who, despite being overwhelmed by Miss Holmes’ eloquence, ended up guarding a mansion that didn't even need defending?”
“That’s the one.”
Observing this, Helen Baskerville muttered quietly to herself, casting a contemptuous look at Adler.
“Scumbag.”
“… Haha.”
“I despise your kind more than anything in this world.”
Adler looked at her with his mismatched eyes—one black, the other grey—and forced an awkward smile.
“…….”
Helen clicked her tongue. She noticed that Charlotte, who was coldly glaring at Adler, had eyes tinted with a faint gold.
“… Why do you like such trash?”
“Excuse me, I can hear everything, you know…?”
After staring blankly for a while, Helen cautiously approached Charlotte and asked her directly.
“Trash can be recycled,” Charlotte replied.
“… I’ve heard that human trash can’t be recycled, though.”
“That’s because he isn't human.”
“Ah.”
Enlightened by Charlotte’s ambiguous answer, Helen quietly nodded and moved on ahead.
“Everyone actually likes me…”
“… Please, just shut up.”
“…….”
And so, they climbed the desolate moor in silence for a while.
“… Here we are.”
Eventually, a cabin standing alone in the middle of the moor came into view. Helen Baskerville pointed ahead.
“Although I can hardly believe she would send me such a message, the only one who fits Miss Holmes’s deduction is her.”
“Who lives in that cabin?”
“Julia Stapleton. An entomologist and educator. She was closely associated with my uncle. Of course, we were also good friends.”
Hearing this, Charlotte quietly tilted her head, deep in thought.
“… Is something wrong?”
“No, let’s go inside first.”
Charlotte sighed quietly, stepped forward, and began knocking on the door.
“Is anyone home? Miss Stapleton?”
Yet, for some reason, the owner of the house remained silent.
“… It appears Miss Stapleton may have very poor hearing.”
“I don’t think so. She never seemed to have trouble hearing before…”
“… Shall I give it a try?”
Just as Charlotte grumbled and Helen looked on, bewildered and suspecting something was amiss—
“… Miss Holmes.”
Adler, who had moved toward a window at the side, quietly cracked a smile.
“You might want to come over here.”
At his words, both Charlotte and Helen moved to the window. Their faces hardened instantly.
“……..”
“Miss… Miss Stapleton…”
The prime suspect who had sent the letter, Julia Stapleton, lay collapsed on the blood-soaked floor. Her body was already growing cold.
“… This mystery is quite peculiar, isn’t it?”
As Charlotte stared silently at the scene, Isaac Adler whispered to her in a low voice.
“I’m not sure what game you're playing.”
To his whisper, Charlotte Holmes responded with a voice as sharp as a blade.
“… Was the reason you tried to divert my attention with a doppelgänger because of this?”
“Ah, you caught me.”
The moment those words left his lips, the Adler standing beside her—who had spoken with such an innocent voice—vanished into thin air with a puff of smoke.
“Inspector Lestrade!”
Amidst the dissipating smoke, Charlotte Holmes let out a quiet sigh and began shouting instructions to Lestrade, whom she had secretly kept on standby without Adler’s knowledge.
“Arrest Isaac Adler on suspicion of murder, immediately!”
.
.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, at that same moment.
[Warning!]
– Probability of being detained: 100% –
Should I say congratulations?
“Indeed, you’ve already noticed.”
Not far from Stapleton’s cabin, in the desolate wilderness, the real Isaac Adler muttered in a dejected tone as he retracted his doppelgänger.
“… Looks like I’m really facing imprisonment this time.”
“… Huh?”
In front of Adler, a girl with messy black hair, who had been quietly letting him stroke her head, tilted her head and looked up at him in confusion.