The atmosphere in the Woodlands Mansion was tense. Two white chalk outlines were laid out before me, clearly in the shape of human bodies.
“So? What'll it be, missy? Murder?”
There were two cops in the room with me, one absently twirling the estate keys, and the other blankly staring at the outlines.
"That's Miss Missy to you,” I grumbled, “and based off the position of the bodies, it's hard to tell. Let me see the photos again.”
One of the policemen led me to a nearby table, which was covered with photographs of the crime scene. Pictured were the bodies of an older couple, a male on the left, and a female on the right. There were no clear wounds, nor were there any clear signs of assault. What was strange, though, is how the bodies were lying side by side. “For now.. I'm going to rule out natural causes. Keep in mind, though, that's not a final verdict. We'll have to wait until the autopsy is done for more details.” The policeman nodded thoughtfully, leading me back to the foyer. “Call if anything comes up, and don't touch a thing.”
I stared pointedly at the other policeman who was about to peer into a dusty vase. “Of course, Miss. Goodnight.” I bid the two farewell, and headed off into the damp night.


As soon as I arrived home, I flopped on my couch with a long sigh. It had been an exhausting day, filled with all sorts of cases, and this recent case wouldn't get out of my head. How could these people die in such a peculiar position, especially without any apparent wounds? I opened the envelope sitting on the coffee table, and began to review the files inside. “Jenny and Oliver Potts...” I whispered to myself. “What are you hiding?” Taking the papers with me into the kitchen, I started a pot of coffee and gazed out the window. It had just begun to rain, bringing a fresh and revitalizing air with it. Each trail of water that slipped down the glass reined me deeper into my thoughts. There was something strange about this case, no doubt; according to their personal files, the couple had been living in the Woodlands Mansion for just over 5 months. They had moved in for retirement and lived rather peacefully, making friends with a good portion of the town. Breaking my gaze from the window, I poured myself a hot cup of black coffee and wandered back over to the coffee table. There, I emptied out the rest of the envelope, spreading the crime scene photos over the glass surface. With a sip of coffee, I set to work, with only the sound of the rain and the ticking of the clock in the hallway to accompany me. Hour after hour went by; it seemed I would never get tired. I wasn't sure why, but I had to solve this one. A brief nap and a couple cups of coffee later, an idea struck me. What had happened to the previous owner of the mansion? I didn't have the file on them, but that would change soon. The case files were soon stashed away and I grabbed my umbrella with a definite destination in mind.


According to the clock in the library, it was 1:13 AM. I had taken nearly every personal file on the shelves, and in a rather common moment of forgetfulness, put them somewhere else, much to the frustration of the librarian. There was still no sign of who the previous owner was, and it was far too late at night to go asking around. The librarian had not a clue, as he had inherited the library just last month, after his father had died. I was beginning to grow frustrated. It seemed that every alley this case led down was a dead end. I knew I could ask around in the morning, but I had been in this town longer than just five months, and even I didn’t know who the owner was! I sighed dejectedly and walked over to the large stained glass window. The rain was coming down in sheets now, causing the view outside the window to warp. It made everything look surreal, and in that moment, everything felt that way, too. It seemed the town had simply forgotten who the mysterious owner was. “Missy, we're closing up for the night,” the librarian called to me. I turned and nodded, walking back towards the door. “Thank you for your hospitality, Fredrik. I’m grateful you kept the library open late; this was very generous.” I smiled thankfully at him as I took my umbrella from the box. He nodded quietly. “Of course, Missy. I hope you find what you need.” Opening the door, I whispered to myself, “So do I...”


The town was dark and silent; only the sound of pouring rain could be heard. The air smelled fresh and clean, and the wind helped clear my mind. As I walked, I thought. It seemed that whenever I walked and thought, something always came to me, whether in the form of an idea or in the form of a physical clue. In this case, the “something” came to me as a light, more specifically, a light in the Woodlands. At this time of night, and in this weather, nobody should really be in the forest... unless, of course, the light was coming from the mansion. That would be impossible, though, as there was nobody in the mansion. The policemen had left ages ago and there would be no reason for anybody else to be there. I glanced down the street towards my house and then back to the forest. I knew I had to solve this case, and just a few minutes later, I found myself on the path to the Woodlands Mansion.


Rain dripped from leaf to leaf, creating an almost wind-like effect. The droplets slowly found their way to the forest floor, turning the dirt path to mud. Unfortunately, I could see no tracks going to or from the mansion; nobody had been down this way since the storm had started. As I approached the clearing that contained the mansion, I began to wonder if this was really such a good idea. I had nobody with me, no idea what I was looking for, and no torch to guide me. If something happened to me, I wouldn't be found until at least six hours later, when the policemen came back for the scheduled sweep of the mansion grounds. There was no turning back, though. I continued down the path and reached the clearing of the estate grounds. Lightning briefly flashed through the billowing clouds, illuminating my destination: the two front doors of the Woodlands Mansion. As I walked up the cobblestone path leading to the porch, I noticed that one of the higher windows was glowing, as if lit up by a lantern. There was clearly somebody in the mansion, and I had to find out who.. they very well may be the answer I had been looking for.


I could hear the rain pouring on the roof, sometimes slipping through a stray crack and falling down into the mansion. The drips echoed through the empty foyer, sounding hollow and lonely. Walking through the dark room, everything seemed far less innocent without the light. Shadows from the lightning danced across the walls, disappearing just as fast as they appeared. I wistfully touched an old picture frame that had fallen; the photograph was long gone, and in its place was a layer of dust and broken glass. The kind couple couldn't have just died together like that, not in such a strange position. Nobody could. Before I could take my eyes off of the frame, I heard a strange knocking noise, as if somebody was at the door. It was coming from upstairs, though, sounding close and distant at the same time. Glancing upwards, I noticed the elegant staircase, just briefly outlined in the lightning. It wrapped around an extravagant chandelier, its glory days long past. Clearly, there was either a switch to turn it on, or a long ladder to light the candles. I felt around the walls, trying to locate a telltale lever or button; the circular room gave me no clues. It seemed pointless to search for a ladder, and there was probably no power in the storm anyway. I eventually found my way over to the staircase, heading towards the room which I had seen from outside.


The upstairs was just as lavish as below, with faded wallpaper and dusty vases. There was one main room, with a sweeping ceiling and smaller chandeliers; leading off from the room were two main halls, each traveling into an oppressive darkness. The Potts had clearly done their best to clean up the shambles and restore the mansion's former glory, but their efforts had unfortunately been in vain; the curse of old age waits for no man or manor. After much pondering, I eventually chose the left hall. As I wandered down the dilapidated passageway, the rain seemed to get louder, the wind angrier, and the knocking more insistent. The white door in front of me was about as imposing as a door could be, which is to say very imposing. The house shook from the wind, in tune to the knocking. I slowly turned the rusted doorknob and slipped inside the midnight-black room.


I was met with a blast of wind and a torrent of rain that howled in my ears and drenched my very soul. The window was left wide open, letting in the horrid storm. Old, yellowed papers were flying everywhere, and only with great effort did I reach the round window and close out the storm. As the room grew to a still, and the papers settled, I let out a shaky breath and looked around. This appeared to be a child's room, decorated lovingly with bright, cheery wallpaper. All around the room were overflowing bookshelves and old scrapbooks, which was apparently where the papers had come from. Strangely enough, I couldn't hear the rain or the wind anymore.. all I could hear was the knocking, much louder now. It seemed to be coming from behind me, by the bed. Turning slowly, I looked behind me, unable to calm my loud breaths. The bed was empty, showing nothing malicious lurking in the dark. The knocking appeared to be coming from inside the closet, just next to the bed. I carefully walked towards it, my breaths even louder. I placed a trembling hand on the sliding closet door and opened it. Inside was a toy chest, but only one toy was misplaced. A hammer-and-peg toy was sitting in a dark corner, the hammer sitting on top. The knocking noise had stopped, and everything was quiet. Not a single breath could be heard.

“So, what'll it be, sir? Murder?” Three chalk outlines were laid out in front of the detective, who appeared just as perplexed as the two cops. “I'm not sure... let me see the photos again.” He was led over to a nearby table, covered in pictures of the crime scene. They featured three bodies lying next to each other in a child’s room, everything inside looking clean and tidy. “That's strange... no apparent wounds, but look at the way the bodies are positioned..” He frowned, twirling his bushy mustache. “For now, I'm going to rule out natural causes, but keep in mind, that's not a final verdict. We have to wait until the autopsy is done for any more details.”
Walking towards the door, he glanced at the cop fiddling with a long-dead fern. “Call me if anything else comes up, and don't touch anything.” The policeman nodded, nudging his accomplice. “Of course, sir. Goodnight.” He bid the two farewell, and headed off into the damp night.