Gathering Evidence

           Carmilla Gentry’s house appeared rather big from the outside, a characteristic that Detective-Sergeant Gilbert Pudget quite liked. He had always had a preference for large, spacious houses, and could easily picture himself someday marrying the beautiful Carmilla and sharing the stunning house with her.

           In contrast, however, Detective-Inspector Alexander Nels seemed to hold the size of the house in poor taste if Pudget were to read what his facial expression stated. Perhaps he found it to be immodest of such a rich woman to display her wealth in such a way. Whatever the case, Pudget simply shrugged it off, figuring that it was the inspector’s loss.

           Walking up the steps to the front door, Carmilla produced a ring of keys from her pocket, making Pudget curious as to just how much she was carrying in that long, flowing coat of hers.

           Carmilla opened the door. “Come on in, boys.”

           Nels looked at Pudget with a look that the sergeant could only describe as reluctant and somewhat displeased, which didn’t make sense to him since Nels had been the one to suggest looking around Carmilla’s home in the first place. Still, the inspector entered the house first, not even bothering to glance at the lady as he did so.

           Pudget approached. “Forgive him, Miss Gentry, it appears as though he’s forgotten his manners. Shall I hold the door for you?”

           “Why?” The woman raised a brow.

           “Well, because as they say, ladies first.”

           With a roll of the eyes, the singer released the door and stepped into her house, with Pudget following close behind. He had to admit that, despite appearing to be around his age, she still had what appeared to be a nice, curvy figure.

           Nels looked around the main living area. “So, Miss Gentry,” He began.

           “Please, stop with the formalities, Inspector. Call me Carmilla.”

           “Miss Gentry,” He continued, a hint of stubborn aggression in his voice, “Where do you normally keep your jewellery?”

           “Where else? Upstairs, in my bedroom.”

           Nels groaned audibly. “Detective-Sergeant, do check that out for me.”

           Pudget couldn’t help but give Nels a double-take. “Pardon? You aren’t going to see it for yourself?”

           “No. I’m… I’m going to look around for any signs of forced entry.”

           It took everything the sergeant had not to smirk at that moment. “Sure. Whatever you want, Nels.”

           Disappointment written all over her pretty face, Carmilla led Pudget upstairs. Finally, he had her alone. The gears of his plan, inch by crooked inch, slowly began to turn.

           “How strange. I can’t imagine Nels acts like that very often.” Pudget said as they entered Carmilla’s bedroom. “I wonder what’s got him so weary all of the sudden.”

           “Perhaps he’s shy.” Gentry concluded. “Never been into a woman’s bedroom before.”

           Casually, Pudget planted a little tick. “Or maybe he’s got something to hide.”

           The rich woman turned, giving Pudget a strange look. “What do you mean?”

           “I mean, maybe we shouldn’t leave him alone down there. He has just murdered a boy.”

           “So I’ve heard, but not that it was murder.”

           “Sweet Carmilla, the boy was innocent. He doesn’t seem particularly phased by that, either. Why, just this afternoon, he told me the boy deserved his fate regardless.” Pudget lied with ease, hoping to wrap himself around Carmilla’s mind and twist her perception of the facts.

           Not knowing the words coming from Pudget’s mouth were fallacy, Carmilla paused for a moment.

           “But I’m sure it’s nothing. I mean, the man was just promoted. Surely, he must be trustworthy to some extent.”

           “Then why tell me you distrust him?”

           “I’m just saying, if he tells us he found nothing downstairs, then we might need to be careful around him.”

           Carmilla stepped closer to Pudget, almost getting into his face. “Are you insinuating that Inspector Nels would go out of his way to tamper with evidence?”

           Pudget shrugged. “We all have our vices, Carmilla.”

           After a few more seconds of fierce eye contact, Carmilla stepped back, shaking her head. “Do you want to see my empty jewellery boxes or not?”

           “By all means, yes.”

           Carmilla’s drawers were made of ebony, and looked rather exquisite. She roughly opened the top right drawer, revealing boxes with little imprints to fit jewellery snugly inside.

           “I noticed all of my jewellery was missing when I was going to take out my earrings.” She said. “I had wanted to wear them this evening, but they, as well as everything else, were gone.”

           “Odd… What about the wall safe?”

           Carmilla gestured for Pudget to follow her, leading him into her study. She then motioned with her hand toward the far wall; a painting lay trashed on the floor. Above it was an open safe on the wall. The safe in question was in fact empty.

           Pudget sighed. “Not even a calling card…”

           “A calling card?”

           “Usually, crooks like this would leave some sort of signature. For example, one might leave a note, or perhaps a specific piece of origami. They love the attention.”

           “So then, we can gather from this that this particular crook does not want to be known?”

           The sergeant smiled at the rich lady. “That’s correct.”

           Abruptly, ruining the moment, in walked Nels.

           “Ah, Inspector Nels. Did you find anything downstairs?” Carmilla asked.

           Nels shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, no.”

           There was a brief look of anxiety on Carmilla’s face that revealed to Pudget that she was considering his warning, which made him cheer in his head.

           “What have you discovered so far, Pudget?” Nels questioned.

           “Well, Nels, it would appear as though this criminal does not want any connection with this crime. There’s no calling card of any sort.”

           “Bloody hell. There’s got to be something we’re missing.”

           “Are you sure about that?”

           “No criminal’s entirely perfect, Detective-Sergeant. Miss Gentry, is there anything else out of place? Anything you think the crook might have touched?”

           Carmilla looked around. “I… I don’t think so, Inspector. Wait. I didn’t leave that window open.”

           “Brilliant!” Out of his coat pocket, Nels pulled out a notepad. He flipped it open, and from a little strap within the book pulled a pen made of silver. He scribbled something into his book feverishly before putting the pen back and slapping the notepad shut. He then snapped his fingers at Pudget.
           “Detective-Sergeant.”

           “What?”

           “Get our fingerprint guys on this.”

           “You’re assuming that this guy wasn’t wearing gloves. If he didn’t want to be caught, why wouldn’t he wear gloves?”

           “Because he does want to be caught. He wants the glory. He just didn’t want it to be too obvious.”

           For the first time in quite a while, Pudget felt himself becoming a little bit worried that he may have underestimated his opponent.