Chapter fifteen: Hypothesis

Trigger warnings for those who need them

No trigger warnings.

I bend over double to fit through the little fence gate and rise the steps towards the little pink tower.
It feels like being inside a fairytale and I’m playing the giant.
I check the address again ‘past the Pettiforth gate and up the stone steps to the red wooden door.’
Personally I think the colour is more of a roof-tile orange but I think that’s just me.
The scheme is easy.
Ask Tonya for the script to the play. Then steer the conversation to Melanie and why she insisted on going to Johnasson’s dressing room straight after Donna got stabbed.
Maybe I can also get a bit more on mister Kiepel while I’m at it.
Yes?
Should be easy.
I knock on the door.
It opens.
My heart sinks.
“Good morning detective, would you like some tea?” The blonde woman asks, stepping aside to let me in.
“I- uh, this is Tonya’s house, right?” I ask as I can feel my hands grow sweaty.
“Yes, yes of course.” Melanie turns her face into the house again and yells “It’s miss Castella!”
“Well let her in then!” Tonya’s voice is unmistakable.
But I hope making tea takes a while, because I’m gonna need a change of plan.

I enter the home of Tonya Sillast as Melanie closes the door behind me.
This is bad.
I wanted to talk to Tonya alone.
“Can I take your coat?” My unexpected host asks politely.
“Uh? Yes.” I shake my coat off my back and hand it off hurriedly.
Maybe I could get Tonya to send Melanie away for our talk.
But I have to be careful in asking. Perhaps she’s be part of the scheme. She did accompany Melanie back to the dressing rooms after all.
“Hello Elizabeth, what can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to you, in private if possible.”
“Well you’re in my home. How much more private where you planning on getting?” I bite my lip fighting the urge to yell ‘I mean, without Melanie! Why is she even here!?’
“I mean, uhm, I’d like to talk to you alone.”
“Why?”
“I-“
Her brow furrows, “Do you suspect Melanie of something?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just, I have a couple questions that would be better answered without her present.” that’s a polite way to say that right?”
“All right, wait here. Have a seat, I’ll be back.” The woman gets up and walks to the door, closing it behind her.
I could walk to the door. Try to eavesdrop to gain an advantage. Or break Tonya’s trust in me completely and be back to finding a completely different angle to find out what happened.
I sigh.
This is frustrating.
In books the characters just kind of keep doing their own thing despite the detective’s involvement.
In reality people aren’t idiots and they don’t just let themselves be caught.
If Tonya really wants the murderer caught as badly as she says she does she wouldn’t try to sabotage the investigation right?
I should sit down, it’s the proper thing to do.
I sit down on a wooden stool and let my eyes drift about the room.
Just like everywhere else in this city the rooms are small and multi purpose.
But that doesn’t make it less beautiful or cozy.
I think the strings of bead-work garlanding the room is Karadonbu in origin but I’m woefully lacking in knowledge of the tropical landmasses.
The beads shimmer with mother of pearl, colourful glass and little coins made from precious metals.
It’s absolutely stunning.
The door opens and Tonya enters with two cups of tea in her hands. “Melanie sends her regards and hopes whatever this is about can be resolved without issues.” She then sets the cups down on the table.
“Thank you. I hope so as well.” I smile politely while trying to fight an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Tonya picks up her cup but I leave mine be for a moment. “So what’s this all about?” she asks.
“Actually before we get to that, do you happen to have a script of the play? So I know who’s supposed to be on the stage as the play goes on.” I quickly add at her puzzled expression.
“I do…”
“Could I see it? Please, why whole theory might be proven or disproven with just that.”
She gets up and walks to a chest of drawers in the corner of the room “It’s just the play, not the casting so you’ll have to match the names to the roles yourself.”
“I can do that.”
“All right. So if I give you this, will you tell me your theory?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She walks back to me and hands me the script. It’s small, not far over the thickness of a newsletter.
It surprises me.
But opening up the pages I can see the clear division between acts and actions, choreography and songs.
I flip through to the second act. One scene without Melanie, one with and then one without before the murder happens.
It could fit.
“Your theory?” Tonya repeats.
“Now, please keep in mind that a theory is just that. I wanted to talk to you, not to accuse anyone of anything but rather see if the theory hold any water.”
“Go on.”
“My current theory is that Melanie and Darren had an affair together behind your back.
I also think during the first interval Darren and Melanie had a fight that ended fatally.
Whether on purpose or not is not up to me to tell but I think when the fight was over she panicked and convinced Harald to take on Darren’s role to buy her the time she needed to dress the corpse back up, wrap the scarf around his neck and hang the towel on the door.
However the knife was already in play and Harald stabbed Donna without understanding how or why.He ran off the stage but Tashi caught up to him. He uncovered his identity but decided not to tell police, either because Harald explained the situation to him and Tashi agreed he was innocent or because of loyalty towards his teacher.”
Tonya looks at her nails as she speaks “Well that certainly sounds interesting? And your proof?”
“The one in the costume would need to know the choreography.
The students that Harald is teaching were on the stage already playing guards and snakes.
That means of the current cast the one in the costume must be either Darren of Harald.
Next to that multiple people have attested Melanie followed the snake to the dressing room at the start of the intermission but since no one follows her there what happened at the dressing room is always her story.
Now the question comes down to whether Darren is alive or dead at that point.
If he’s dead already then Melanie would have found him and sounded the alarm but if he’s alive then Melanie is the final one who saw him alive and that makes the odds she’s the killer that much more probable.”
“And the motive?” Tonya presses on.
“Jealousy. If I can’t have him no one can.”
“Jealousy? Interesting.” Her lips curl upwards as if this is a very funny joke “Who told you Darren was cheating on me?”
“As a detective it would not be proper to give my sources away.”“I see. And Harald, why would he help Melanie rather than sound the alarm?”
“I think anyone would. For their own daughter that is.”
Like the sudden burst of a bubble, Tonya starts to laugh “Well this has been fun but I’m sure Melanie has something to say about that. What do you think darling!?”
The door opens.
Melanie steps in with her arms crossed. “What proof do you have that Harald is my father?”
“I went to the city records. You mentioned you were born and raised here but there’s no birth registered under the name Melanie Pilkee. There is a Melanie Kiepel however, born thirty years ago. I think using an anagram was rather cute, but it wasn’t very difficult to check since you left your first name the same.”
She scoffs “I was fifteen when I did that. Needless to say I could have done a better job.”
“Wait, hold on. Harald’s your dad for real?” Tonya’s eyes grow to roughly twice their size.
“Yes, but he didn’t help me hide a body. That’s nuts! And I’m not jealous of Tonya and I didn’t do anything behind her back.” She walks up to the black woman and kisses her. “Darren, Tonya and I used to be three in love.” She explains.
“And now we are two in mourning.” Tonya adds.
Wait-
“But, you said you and Darren were together.” I look at Tonya accusingly.
“Yes, which isn’t false.” She shrugs.
“But-”
“Look, Alice. Aside from just accusing my love of murder you’ve been a very nice lady. But explaining the concept of polyamory isn’t the way I introduce myself to strangers.”
“That’s…fair I guess.” I deflate.
Tonya turns to Melanie again “Why didn’t you tell me about Harald? I asked to meet your parents before.”
“Because my dad is Harald Kiepel and my mom is Felicia Feliona.” Her eyes grow wide “What?”
“Right!? And now tell me you don’t look at me differently. Tell me you see the same Melanie you’ve seen all these years and not some opportunistic coattail-rider who got everything the easy way.”
“Does Barnaby know?”
“No, no one knows besides my parents and I, well and you now, and her.” she waves her arm in my direction offhandedly “I didn’t tell Darren either. I just figured that if you love me you’ll love me with or without knowing who my parents are.”
“Well of course, but I’m upset you felt like we would abandon you over this, surely we would have supported you if you decided to share.”
She shrugs “Maybe, I just didn’t want to take the risk, you both mean so much to be.”
I look at the two women with a mix of envy and confusion.
“I’m, I’m sorry but I’m still going to need evidence of what you claimed happened during the interval actually happened.”
Melanie huffs gets up and strides to her handbag by the door “When I was crying in my dressing room Harald dried my tears with his handkerchief.” she pulls out a piece of soft blue cotton with a large smear of pale beige powder on one of the corners. In the opposite corner there’s a set of initials lovingly embroidered with dark blue thread. Spelling out H. K. She holds it out to me “Happy now?”
This isn’t how a detective story is supposed to go right? This was supposed to be the answer, I had it! Everything fit together. Well, assuming Melanie and Harald both lied to me…
I grunt “I guess that’ll do.” Then I sigh “Well that’s another dead end.”
Melanie snorts “Sorry I’m not a murderer.”
“That’s okay I just- Mister Garcia is making the most sense right now but I have no motive. If he and Donna were friends then why stab her in the middle of the stage!?”
“Valentine!? He’s not Donna’s friend, where did you get that?” Melanie scoffs, she takes a chair from the dinner table and sit down with us.
“I Can’t reveal my sources. But please continue.”
“They used to be friends sure. I think Donna was the only one capable of dealing with his self aggrandizing and ego tripping.” She stuffs the kerchief back in the bag and sets it down beside her “But even for her patience and goodness she was done with him by the end of things.”
“Would be harm her?”
“I don’t know. Really, he changed so much from when he first joined the company that I could believe he became the first monarch of Madricord if you told me with a straight face.”
“He could definitely harm Darren” Tonya intervenes.
“Oh yeah, he hated Darren. I think he felt threatened by him since Barnaby kept giving him good roles, but Valentine would be far too prideful to say so out loud.”
My pencil races over the paper “Melanie you said mister Garcia changed a lot, could you please elaborate on that?”
“When he started out he was skilled but shy-“
“Really!?” Tonya exclaims. Melanie nods “Yup. It took some pushing and pulling from Harald to get him to come out of his shell and show the big emotions on stage.
Then as he got more attention from Barnaby and climbed the ranks he started to get cocky. which isn’t unfounded because he had a lot of technical skill and his stage presence was becoming his most valuable asset.
But after he suffered an injury to his leg and had to drop out for a while he became spiteful. He would still show up on time and do a good job but he’d distance himself from his fellow colleagues and only ever hung out with Donna on occasion.
I don’t know when he started smoking the cigs, as a singer I don’t stay around of dancing repetitions usually, but Darren would often complain about how the guy was useless when he smoked and rude when he didn’t.” Melanie looks at Tonya, she nods and takes over.
“He wasn’t ‘in the room’ when he was high. I’d say muscle memory saved his ass more than once but everyone could see he wasn’t gonna last long after Barnaby gave his second warning. Especially after it became clear he hadn’t actually quit smoking.”
“So the other employees knew? Did anyone tip off Barnaby?”
“Could be, could also be that Barnaby just saw the same thing as anyone else which is that he was still high as a balloon during training. Darren didn’t, as far as I know and I doubt Donna would.”
“I see.”
“Is that when Donna stopped being his friend as well?” I ask.
“No, no that came after he was fired.
Apparently he had a crush on her for who knows how long and after he was no longer her colleague he started to be real creepy about it. Demanding she love him back and stalking her.
He even bought a ridiculously expensive ticket just to see her and tried to give her a gift which he knows we’re not allowed to accept so when Barnaby found out about that he was just done with his sorry ass.”
“Wait, that’s the reason we’re no longer allowed to let Valentine in?” Tonya cuts in “I heard it was because he became a drugs dealer and Barnaby was afraid the police would raid Magnolia looking for drugs or something.”
“What? That’s…who told you that?”
“Selena.”
“Selena says all sorts of things, but no. Donna didn’t feel safe around him anymore. And Barnaby loves that girl like a daughter, so he just banned Valentine in order to make her happy.”
I tap the end of my pencil against my lip for a moment “You said he tried to give her a gift, was that gift a bottle of perfume perhaps?”
She shrugs “I don’t know. It could be. Donna rejected the gift quite strenuously and told Tashi to get rid of it.”
“Wait, why did Tashi have it?” Did I miss something?
“You should ask him not me.”
I sigh “Any idea how? When I tried to talk to him last time he fled his dressing room.”
“Well, I don’t know where he lives but I know he goes to the steampowered envelope sometimes.”
“That’s very good to know.”
Tonya puts gently puts her head on Melanie’s shoulder. “I don’t want to sound petty but the thing with Donna? That’s yet another thing you’ve kept from me.”
“I’m sorry sweetie, Donna asked me not to tell the others, and by the time you came in I had completely forgotten again. I wish I’d remembered earlier.”
“Do you know where I could find Valentine?”
Melanie shakes her head “I think only Barnaby would. He’s the one with all the addresses and Valentine wasn’t someone I’d go over for tea.”
“He’s offered to send it to me but I haven’t gotten it yet. I guess I’ll just have to be patient then. Oh! There is one problem however. If all cast and crew were told not to let Valentine in then how did he get on the stage?”
“That- hmmm.”
I pull out my notes “I think this asks for a map of the theatre.”“You want me to draw one?”
“If you could that’d be excellent.”

By the time I walk down the steps again I feel invigorated.
I wannna go to the steampowered envelope to see if Tashi’s there.
The list of questions I have for him only grows longer and longer by the day.
And time is running out.
Two days.
Just two more days before I need to leave for the Charalian mainland and my most precious theory just got shot down sending me all the way back to the beginning.
My notebook is overflowing with notes but all I have are assumptions.
The clocktower up at Hay’s Square roars loudly like a cruel reminder.
I wanna go to the steampowered envelope.
But I can’t, not right now.
I have to look for an entrance to the south-facing tunnel because I have another engagement on the other side of town.
The tunnels are just single lines of underground traffic but walking through it I can’t help but think back to the underground tunnels of the badao, the sprawling network deep under the surface of Choumuri.
The place where the Jigani resistance made their base back when they hadn’t lost the war against Cygne yet.
In the tendrils of that place, the lost and hopeless make their home.
Inside the caverns, the steamships that decided the war still get driven around, bought and sold.
In hindsight I guess it makes sense that the only foreigner my father respected was Dana, a Xjawaw woman who knows how to keep his precious war ships in good to fly condition.
I’m not even sure whether the name ‘Dana’ works inside her own language?
It sounds so different from Xjaa and Mjo.
Did she pick a new name when the Cygnians invaded?
I hurry my steps.
This tunnel is too long, I need to see the sun.
This place is making me feel paranoid.

After the tunnels, I climb the stairs, then a ladder, then a bridge and then another ladder for some reason.
This place is miles from ground level.
I’m not sure whether to think like that gives Hamala a greater chance of getting the place, or means we’re not gonna get any customers if we do.
I find the right door but Himowa and Xuiyo aren’t here yet.
I don’t really want to announce myself early.
So I watch the city instead. Sitting down on the ledge that circles around the building and onto the next. I dump one leg on either side of the railing to make sure I don’t fall off and praise the existence of pants.
Some days I miss the beautiful patterns and details of the silk shimou I used to wear back in Choumuri.
But today is not one of those days.
Today I’m trying to play the clever but empathetic detective who next to solving case also puts in the time to help out her friends.
Who accidentally embarrassed herself trying to accuse the wrong person.
Maybe this is just my low point?
Antoinette often encounters a setback or struggle somewhere near the end of the book.
Maybe it means I’m close to getting it for real?
If only I didn’t have to go to the mainland so soon.
Maybe I was just rushing it.
Trying to ‘finish up’ so I could put my attention back to getting a license and confess to Dana and maybe, just maybe, get my happy ending.
It’d be an excellent conclusion to this story.
“Alice, I almost didn’t see you down there. You’re here early.” Hamala comments as she and Xuiyo join me.
“I finished up my investigation early.”
“Really? Did you find your killer?”
“Sadly no.” I shrug “I thought I had but it just turns out I had missed a thing.”
A hand comes down on my shoulder. Xuiyo smiles his awkward smile for me. “You’ll get it.” he tells me.
I smile at him gratefully. “Thanks, but that’s not why we’re here now ,is it?” I push myself up and quickly dust off my pants. Let’s see if this spot’s any good.
I stride to the door and knock.
It opens with an elderly woman with wild hair and massive glasses asks. “Hello?”
“Hello m’am are you miss Beldarone?”
“I am indeed”
“My name is Alice Castella and this is Hamala Nao, she’s like to look at your place.”
“Ah yes the Jigani girl, come on through, I heard you were planning on making a restaurant? That’s exiting.”
Hamala looks at me, then at the lady “Uh yes, thank you.”
“Come on in, I’ll show you around.”