IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! Three quick, classic cases.

ON THE EDGE OF DEATH, PART TWO

QUESTIONING MRS KEENE

He had learned to pick locks at a young age, taught by a mentor of questionable educational prowess, who nevertheless was the very best at his job. That skill ended up being quite useful, as proven that very day. Alice was not surprised, or impressed, or horrified, at least in appearance; he sometimes wished he could read her mind, pierce the secrets of the soul. The closest thing he could do was catch her off guard once again: those were the moments when she revealed the most of herself.

"Hello again, Mrs Keene," the man greeted entering the room.

"Come on in, darlings. Excuse the disarray, I wasn't expecting visitors in my room, as you can imagine."

"Not to be rude, but this would be the perfect time to explain your situation." While looking around, he noticed a doll on the large bed and a girl's clothes on a chair beside it. "You're not there out of your own volition, are you? Does this have to do with your daughter not being here at the moment? Was she kidnapped? Are you being blackmailed?"

"Oh my. That is too good for a common man. Surely, you must be some kind of clairvoyant."

"Not at all, I simply observe and make educated guesses. Anyone possessing a decent amount of brains can train themselves to do the same. For example, Miss Camden here, who is fairly new to the job, therefore is still learning the ways, will now demonstrate the process by pointing out which elements lead to those conclusions."

Alice froze in place; he could feel her protesting glare from the back.

She did express her disapproval aloud, opting for a look around, in hopes of saving face. 'It's as much about what isn't there as it is about what's present', she reminded herself in the detective's own words. Easier said than done. "Let's see... the doll and clothes on the chair show that there was a child here at some point. She is not to be seen, which means she's somewhere else... or hiding... There's only one bed, and no men's clothes, or any object to indicate the presence of one," Miss Camden said, moving her head frantically, trying not to miss any detail. "Therefore, she couldn't be in your husband's company..." A decent start, yet there came the biggest hurdle: what could make him think that she is being blackmailed? Was it not possible that she wanted to jump? Was it not possible that her daughter was with some trusted friend? Looking back at the doll, she noticed it was well taken care of, wearing intricate customised clothing, but also worn out, especially on the left arm. "The girl would never go out leaving her precious toy behind. She always carries it by its arm, as if it were a friend walking beside her. It has a dress, shoes, even a bonnet of its own... That child has everything she wants. I don't think you would bring her with you if you wanted to end your life. I think you care too much about her to be so cruel."

There was a bout of silence, during which Alice could hear her heartbeat clear as any spoken voice. If only she could get some kind of confirmation that she hadn't messed up, if only she could be granted peace of mind.

At last Mrs Keene spoke. Her voice was now shaking. "I can't claim to be a great or even a good person..."

"We'll bring your daughter back to you, Ma'am. It'll be quicker if you tell us everything we need to know, that's for sure."

She collected herself in an instant. "Let's not waste any more time, then. There's an open envelope on the nightstand." Alderton gestured for Alice to get it. "Take this too," the woman added, holding out her hand. Within it was a folded piece of paper. "That's an invitation that three of my longstanding friends also received. Each one of us thought another in the group had organized this event. Except no one seems to have done it."

"None of you questioned it before meeting, which means it is not uncommon for you lot to organize mysterious events."

"It used to be common, years ago. We would reserve a specific time of the summer to go to Mary and George's vacation house in the country. We would cut contact with the rest of society for a week, drink, play cards... the men hunted, we put on expensive garments and jewellery..."