Cherry Red Murder

A Lie

Daiya Dritwice Spindleweary had been locked in the cellar. It was a dark room full of coal and wine barrels. It was terribly cold. She didn't understand why Jane had been so eager to catch her. That horrid detective had accused her the moment he had arrived! She only wanted to show that she wasn't who they thought; she had given up on hating after her husband's death. He had always told her that she ought to make peace, and after his death she had decided that she wouldn't continue being so distant. She wished she could go back twenty years and convince herself to forgive.

She shook it off. Wishing for things in the past wasn't useful at all; she wouldn't be able to go back! Hopefully she'd find some way to clear all of this nonsense and go home. Maybe to a warm cup of tea.

---

Jane Kingwell's room was upstairs. She was rolling about in bed, unable to sleep. However sleepless she was, she was still exhausted. Her daughter was dead. She couldn't protect her. She hadn't felt so horrible since the war. She had seen so many die. Now another was gone. She hugged her covers closer. The murderer was locked up. The judge would be there soon. And she shut her eyes, not sleeping, but not awake either.

Outside her door, as instructed, Kayla stood, ensuring that her sleep wouldn't be disrupted. She knew how Jane felt. However, just that moment, the fired detective walked up the stairs, the wood creaking under her feet.

"I thought Lady Kingwell instructed you to leave the estate," said Kayla, narrowing her eyes.

Madeline chewed a fingernail. "Can I talk with Jane Kingwell?"

"I'm afraid not. And I must ask again, what are you doing here when Jane Kingwell herself ordered you off the grounds!" Kayla said, louder than intended.

Madeline took a deep breath and decided how much to tell her. "I have reason to believe that Daiya wasn't working alone."

"And? You were fired, and Ronald Bullstock has given no evidence of this!" said Kayla angrily, "Poor Miss Jane is in a lot of pain right now! I'd have thought you'd be politer!"

"Please," begged Madeline, "For the safety of everyone in the house."

Kayla's eyes widened. "What do you want to talk with Lady Jane about?"

"I'd like to meet Lady Spindleweary."

She was quiet for a bit. Finally, she said, "Alright. But I'll stay there with you. She is a murderer."

And so she followed Kayla into the cellar. They walked down the shaky stairs to a room full of coal and barrels. Sitting on an empty barrel, glaring at them was Daiya. Her eyes followed them as they took each step.

"Well, what are you here for?" she barked angrily, "It was enough locking me here unfairly, but now bringing people to gawk at me as if I were an exhibit at a mus-"

"No," Madeline interrupted, "I know you're innocent."

Kayla's eyes widened. "YOU TOLD ME YOU THOUGHT SHE-"

"I lied," said the detective quietly, "I lied because I had a hunch. A hunch that only Daiya can prove. Miss Spindleweary, what happened last night. Your freedom depends on it."