Chapter 2

“Good afternoon,” a maternally woman greeted me after she opened the front door. “Oh my, the rain is pouring outside, ain’t it?” She squinted her eyes at me with a suspicious air about her. “May I ask what business you have ‘ere, sir?”

“My name is Detective Varon,” I declared in a boisterous voice. “I believe Lord Reeds has requested my presence.”

“Oh yes! He is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

“The drawing room?” I said with surprise, not expecting the man to speak of so delicate a subject in such a common place area. The maid was entirely ignorant of my thoughts and beckoned me inside to escape the onslaught of rain. She had me remove my damp flatcap and heavy cloak. I patted down my lovat tweed blazer and ensured I had a pen and notebook at the ready before I followed the servant’s confident steps. She led me down a wide hallway, allowing me enough time to take in the portraits of the Reeds’ family members and a large rectangular mirror where I took a meager glance at my shiny bald head and damp brow that naturally arose from the misty weather outdoors. Once I stepped into the drawing room, I instantly noticed how brightly lit the entire room was, for there were multiple candles decorating every surface of this room. The ceiling was painted a clear white with octagon patterns decorating the surface; the walls were an alarmingly bright tiger stripped orange that made me feel like I had instantly stepped into some exotic land. A faint incense drifted through the air, but I could not detect its origins yet. My curiosity was thwarted by the discarded violin case on the main coffee table, and the two sets of mugs containing cold coffee that had been left here for more than an hour at the very least. The grandfather clock ticked loudly down the hallway, while an occasional noise coming from an open doorway at the end of the hall gave some life to this gravely silent house. I peeked around the corner of the open doorway, taking in the emptiness of the lone hallway that was half shielded in darkness.

I took a step forward, darting my eyes to the left and right of the hallway. The old pine floor creaked under my feet at the slightest pressure, a small anecdote that I could add to my notes when it came to the mysterious disappearance of Victoria Reeds.

“Detective Varon,” bellowed down the end of the hall. A large figure emerged in the darkness, enormous in size with enough weight to have the floorboards creak under his feet. “Forgive me!” Lord Reeds yelled out. “I had to step into my office for a bit.” He stepped across the hallway at rapid speed, and in no time at all offered out his hand for me to shake. His grip was firm in mine, and I noticed how large his hand was in comparison to my own. His abnormally tall form reminded me of the ancient Saxons that once conquered this great country. His dark brown hair was peppered over with grey, thick and shooting upwards from his scalp to make his appearance all the more menacing. Lord Reeds wore a thick beard, grizzly at the tips with tiny streaks of grey. Deep lines creased around the corners of his eyes and along his cheekbones, which made him look years older than he must have been. He attempted to smile at me, but it wasn’t in his nature, and he was glad to slip his hand out of mine to have his arms resting by his side once more. There was a moment of open scrutiny - Lord Reeds took in my neat appearance and the bronze complexion of my face that was so unlike his own.

Self-conscious, I stood up taller and found myself barely reaching the top of his chest. “Should we start from the beginning?” I questioned him, in the hopes that it would distract my uneasy mind.

“And when is that exactly?” he sneered, a snide remark to put me in my place.

“The night your daughter disappeared.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” he grumbled under his breath. “To leave in the middle of the night.” He pointed towards a long couch and motioned with a short nod of his head that we should take a seat. I elected to sit on the far left of the couch, while noting how cluttered the coffee table was on this rainy afternoon.

“Lord Reeds,” I exclaimed. “Am I to understand that you believe your daughter left of her own free will?”

“It’s not like the house was broken into.”

“You have servants, my Lord. Couldn’t one of them have taken her?”

“And come back to work the next day?”

“It would be a masterful cover-up.”

“It would be foolish,” he shot back. “No one in their right mind would do that.”

I took a long look at the man, and thought his physique was enough for a man to second guess kidnapping his daughter. Then again, they might have seduced her to leave the household. She was a young woman, and at the perfect age to form a romantic attachment. I puckered my lips outwardly as I meditated on this issue. “Who says they have to be in the right state of mind?” I pointed out, much to his Lordship’s displeasure.