A heavy mist had settled on the streets of London as Miss Shadow walked on the pavement, her suitcase thumping behind her, towards the mystery that awaited her.
She was dead exhausted because of the long travel, but what could she have done? She loved
Solving mysteries and then an invitation to solve a mystery whose murmurs had wandered the city of London for 2 years arrived-how could she just deny it?
This wfirst as her chance to prove herself.
She has solved many mysteries till now, but were they this famous? Obviously a big No.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and drizzle started as she entered the big iron gates of Blackwood Manor.
The step she took forward towards it, and it seeped into her – the uneasiness.
Something didn’t feel right.
For a split second, she wanted to turn back and go home, but then – the mystery,
She had to solve it.
Lightning flashed, and a sudden downpour engulfed her.
She rushed towards the big oak-panelled door that stood at the front of the magnificent white mansion.
But till she reached there, she was already soaked from head to toe – every cell of her body shivered.
She knocked on the door, “knock! Knock!”
Nobody answered.
She knocked again and then, after some minutes passed, she heard the echo of footsteps approaching.
The door opened with a loud creak, revealing a shrivelled-up woman with a long black tunic and hair tied up in a bun.
“Welcome, Ms Shadow, the mistress is waiting for you”, she greeted in a cold and hoarse voice.
“Thank you”, said Miss Shadow while giving the woman an awkward smile.
Miss Shadow entered the lighted, big hall, which had two round staircases at its sides that led to the second floor.
There were many sofas arranged in a pattern in the middle with a big chandelier and fireplace, and there – there she was – Miss Blackwood sitting on the sofa staring at the round table in front of her.
Miss Blackwood looked up and stood up suddenly, revealing a slim woman with long blonde hair and piercing green eyes.
She gave Ms Shadow a pained smile and said, “Welcome, Ms Shadow, make yourself comfortable”.
Miss Shadow walked towards her, water still dripping off her shirt.
“Thank you, Miss Blackwood, for giving me a chance, “as she sat on the sofa, making it also wet.
“Oh, please, it was just nothing, but I just hope it is solved now,” said Miss Blackwood.
“I see you’re exhausted to the core by your looks, but before you settle down in your room, should I recapitulate a bit??”
Shadow saw pain in her eyes.
“Yes, please,” said Miss Shadow.
“So, okay..” began Miss Blackwood, “It was the afternoon of 2 January
In 1930, our family had to attend an event, but George refused at the last moment.
My four children and I almost begged him to come with us, but he didn’t budge; he stayed at home with our three servants – the cook, the cleaner, and the gardener. I took Martha with us on purpose- so that she could keep an eye on my children.
So, we went to the event without him.
We came back around 9:00 pm and knocked on the door.
Nobody answered.
We knocked again with more energy, rang the bell too, but no response came.
Then panic set in.
We called the police-when they arrived,
They broke the door and went inside just to find two dead bodies – the cleaner and cook. Murdered mercilessly. And George and the gardener?
They were not found.
They had vanished into thin air.
Disappeared.
Nobody has seen them till now”.
Her eyes sparkled. With a tremor in her voice, she continued, “The police went everywhere, every avenue, every question, but they could not find anything. Two years. Two years of answering questions and sleepless nights. Miss Blackwood used a laced handkerchief to pat her eyes.
“I understand, Miss Blackwood,” Miss Shadow said softly, her own weariness almost forgotten in the face of the woman’s pain. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Miss Blackwood took a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. “Please, Ms Shadow, you must be exhausted. Let Martha show you to your room. You can settle in, and perhaps we can talk more in the morning when you’ve had some rest.” Martha will see to your needs.
Martha nodded curtly, her eyes devoid of any warmth. “This way, madam,” she said in her hoarse voice, leading Miss Shadow out of the grand hall and up one of the winding staircases.
The corridor on the second floor was dimly lit, the air thick with a musty scent. Martha stopped before a heavy oak door. “This is your room, Ms Shadow,” she announced, her hand resting on the cold metal handle. As she opened the door, a large room came into view, filled with dark wooden furniture and heavy velvet curtains. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, throwing dancing shadows against the walls.
“Thanks,” Miss Shadow said, sending a small grin toward the unresponsive one. Martha just nodded again and shuddered off down the hall, her footsteps fading as she walked on the wooden floors.
Miss Shadow entered the room, unable to shake the unease within her. She finally knew how the famous millionaire, George Blackwood, had died. She busied herself with arranging her few books on the bedside table, the familiar weight of the volumes a small comfort in the unfamiliar surroundings.
She reflected on what Miss Blackwood had described. The abrupt decision by George to decline his invitation to the dinner, the incidental selection of the cook and the cleaner as victims, and the abrupt disappearance of George and the gardener was thoroughly confounding.
As she finally settled onto the edge of the large bed, the heavy velvet of the bedspread soft beneath her fingers, her gaze drifted back to the window. The mist seemed to have grown even denser, a swirling white curtain that concealed whatever lay beyond. The silence in the room was profound-she could hear her own heartbeat.
A shiver traced its way down her spine. She wasn’t alone. Someone was watching her…!
By: Hooriya Khurshid, 8th Diamond
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