Chapter 2.4

Thud! 

The lantern struck Robert’s head, shattering into pieces that scattered everywhere. Some shards left cuts on his face as they passed. The oil spilled out, and flames quickly spread to Robert’s face. 

“Argh!” 

Robert screamed in pain, letting go of Beatrice’s arm in the process. Azrael seized the opportunity to strike Robert’s wrist. The axe fell from Robert’s hand and hit the floor. 

Robert writhed in agony, trying to extinguish the flames by splashing water from the puddles on the floor onto his face. However, the fire fueled by the oil showed no signs of dying out. 

In the end, Robert had no choice but to rub his face against the stone floor, as if grinding it away. Dust mixed with oil and wounds covered his face as the flames slowly diminished and finally went out. 

Robert groaned, fumbling over his face, which was now covered in burns. 

“You… damn… damn bastard…” 

Robert, who had been slumped on the floor, managed to get up and tried to grab the axe again. But Azrael was quicker; he kicked the axe, sending it sliding into the corner. It was now too far for Robert to retrieve. 

Still, Robert didn’t give up and lunged at Azrael with his bare hands. Azrael countered by kicking Robert’s shin, knocking him to the ground. He pinned Robert down, twisted his arms behind his back, and restrained him with handcuffs he pulled from his coat. 

“Robert Medley. I am arresting you as the culprit behind the missing persons and murder cases, as well as the suspect in the Newethen Street Serial Murders.” 

The sudden reversal of the situation left Robert speechless. He stared into space, clenching and unclenching his fists, unable to accept reality. His unfocused eyes eventually landed on Beatrice. 

She had been trembling like a frightened person, but when her gaze met Robert’s, she smiled faintly. 

Azrael didn’t notice this as he approached her. Kneeling on one knee, he met her eyes. 

“Young lady. I apologize for being late.” 

“No, you came as you promised to rescue me.” 

“No. I should never have allowed you to be caught up in this incident in the first place. That was my mistake.” 

“Sir Azrael, I’m fine. You did your best to find me and solve the case, didn’t you?” 

“…Yes.” 

“Then that’s enough. You don’t need to blame yourself anymore.” 

Azrael silently stared at her for a moment before pulling out a dagger from his coat. He cut the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. The marks left by the ropes were clearly visible after being tied for so long. 

Feeling his gaze, Beatrice covered her wrists with her hands. Azrael removed his outer coat and tore the edge with the dagger. He wrapped the fabric around the wound on her neck like a bandage. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

Her bare feet had a few scratches, but aside from that, there were no other injuries. After confirming this, Azrael draped his coat over her shoulders. 

“Excuse me for a moment.”  

Azrael supported Beatrice’s back and slipped his hands beneath her dress to lift her up. As her perspective suddenly rose, Beatrice, unsure of what to do, carefully wrapped her arms around Azrael’s neck. 

She then rested her head against Azrael’s chest, as though leaning into his embrace. The trembling that had overtaken her earlier had subsided. Her breath brushed against the collar of his shirt, tickling his nape. 

“Thank you for saving me.” 

“I only fulfilled my duty, Miss.” 

As they stepped out of the basement, the investigation team was waiting for them. The first to rush forward was Carlson. 

“Commander! And the young lady is safe too! That’s a relief.” 

Carlson quickly stepped in front of the two upon seeing Beatrice’s disheveled state. He waved his hand at the investigation team, signaling them to turn away. 

“Did you apprehend the culprit?” 

“He should be crawling on the basement floor by now. I’ve cuffed him, so drag him out as he is.” 

At Azrael’s command, several members of the investigation team hurried into the cabin. Before long, Robert was carried out like a piece of baggage. It seemed the case was finally coming to a close. 

With the culprit arrested, Thomas Hill’s body was promptly handed over to his family. The investigation team arranged for a coffin tailored for Thomas as compensation to the bereaved. However, Azrael didn’t believe such gestures could truly be considered compensation. 

Thomas Hill’s funeral was held swiftly. Few people attended the ceremony. Among them, one woman dressed in mourning attire and a black veil remained by his side. She was Thomas’s wife, Florence Hill. 

Azrael cautiously approached her and bowed deeply in greeting. 

“I am Azrael Hyacinth, the chief investigator. About your husband…” 

“It’s a tragic matter. Something inevitable, yes, I understand. Other knights have already been here.” 

“…I see. However, as the person in charge, it is only right that I personally extend my apologies. I am truly sorry, Madame.” 

Azrael bowed deeply once more as he offered his sincere apology. Florence stared at his bowed head for a long time before letting out an audible sigh. 

“Raise your head, Your Grace. You’re not someone who should waste time mourning the death of a commoner, are you?” 

“Madame, a person’s life carries no weight of rank. Furthermore, I am not here as the Duke of Hyacinth, but as an investigator performing my duties.” 

“Why do you think a person’s life carries no weight? One of the others who went missing was a noble young lady, wasn’t she? Yet the only one who died was my husband. Do you still claim there is no difference in weight?” 

When Azrael raised his head to meet Florence’s gaze, her face bore the traces of tears that hadn’t yet dried. Her reddened, swollen eyes hinted at the sleepless nights she’d endured since Thomas went missing. 

“I know you must have many things to say, but none of them are what I wish to hear. Call for another knight, anyone will do.” 

“…” 

“Sir Hyacinth. If you cannot understand the restraint behind my words of resentment, leave. If you do understand, then listen to me further.” 

“…I apologize, Madame. I will send another knight shortly.” 

Azrael bowed once more before leaving the cemetery. The faint sound of the funeral hymn seemed to linger in his ears.

When he returned to the carriage, Carlson handed him a few pages of reports and sat beside him. 

“You’re back quickly. The young lady has been sent back to her estate for the time being. They’ve already arranged for a physician, and some of our knights have taken her statement. The details are in the report.” 

“Thomas’ wife refused to speak with me. After reviewing the report, you’ll need to go to her yourself.” 

“Rejected because of your rank again, huh? There are so many who don’t understand your intentions, Commander. You’re one of the few who accepts knights of common birth like us.” 

“To them, I’m still a noble. Has the culprit been transported to the temporary investigation headquarters?” 

“Yes, for now. Once you interrogate him and complete the procedures, he’ll be sent to the capital. That’s all for the report.” 

Carlson stood up, stepped out of the carriage, and shut the door with a sharp sound. Leaning toward the window, he waved at Azrael. 

“I’ll take care of Madame Florence. Commander, hurry on to the interrogation.” 

“Thank you, Carlson. I’ll leave it to you.” 

“Oh, running around everywhere and taking the brunt of the complaints is nothing compared to what you deal with, Commander. Now off you go.” 

At Carlson’s signal to the coachman, the carriage began to move. Among the reports Carlson had left behind was a medical opinion tucked between the pages. 

An investigation of Robert’s inn room and carriage revealed, as expected, that he had been using sleeping agents. The report stated that the substance was a type of drug that required a prescription to obtain, suggesting that Robert may have been suffering from severe insomnia. 

Ordinary people rarely suffer from insomnia to such an extent. Azrael couldn’t help but wonder if Robert’s grudges and relationships were somehow connected to this. 

Upon arriving at the temporary investigation headquarters, Azrael headed straight for the interrogation room. Unlike before, Robert was firmly restrained in a chair. 

“You’ve finally arrived, Investigator. I almost didn’t recognize you, thanks to half my face being burned.”

Robert’s face was half-covered in bandages, likely attended to by a physician. However, the treatment appeared to be superficial rather than thorough. 

Azrael sat opposite Robert without responding. Aside from the notebook he had brought to record the interrogation, the table between them was empty. 

Thanks to Beatrice’s testimony, most of Robert’s criminal actions had been uncovered. The only unclear aspect remaining was his motive. 

“I’ll ask you directly, Mr. Robert. What was your reason for committing attempted murder, kidnapping, and murder?” 

“Does a reason matter? As an investigator, you should know that the world is full of crimes without motives.” 

“Earlier, you said you wanted ‘your despair.’ Do you still claim your crimes were without motive?” 

“…Ha, haha. What if I do?” 

“Then we’ll have much more to discuss.” 

Azrael adjusted his posture and opened his notebook. The pages at the front contained a brief summary of the case. His unwavering demeanor made Robert click his tongue lightly. 

“Why don’t you bring in one of those countless other knights instead? I’ve got nothing to say to someone like you.” 

“What exactly do you mean by ‘someone like me’?” 

“Do you really not know?” 

“I’m aware that the commoners’ perspective tends to be similar. However, you seem to have a specific standard beyond that, which is why I’m asking.” 

Although Azrael couldn’t be certain, it was becoming increasingly likely that Robert Medley was not the Newethen Street Serial Killer. He didn’t appear to be someone who acted out of mere personal grudges, nor did he seem like someone who would be caught so easily. 

The confirmed victims of the Newethen Street Serial Killer numbered nine, with John Dix being the most recent. After dealing with such cases, investigators could often discern certain traits or habits of the perpetrator. 

The Newethen Street Serial Killer didn’t seem like someone who would be swayed by emotions. On the contrary, their actions often demonstrated a cold, calculated precision that surpassed ordinary people, frequently outpacing the investigators themselves. 

Azrael couldn’t help but wonder if even this case was part of the Newethen Street Serial Killer’s greater plan.