The Experimental Murders (Elysium #2)

The Curious One

 Booker enjoyed the temporary respite from his self-righteous maid. Shortly after she left, he returned his parlour to its original arrangement and doubled up on leaves when he made his tea. It was so refreshing to once again be able to walk about his own home without the fear that every corner he turned would bring him face to face with Philomena's stern gaze. In fact, he enjoyed it so much that he decided to do some of his research and experiments in the main part of the house rather than seclude himself in the laboratory.

The result of his above-ground work, though, was that in only a couple of months, the house returned to its former disastrous state. He was reluctant to hire a maid, worrying that he would be stuck with another Philomena. But after he discovered a mouse nibbling on an eyeball that had somehow found its way out of the laboratory and into the kitchen, he gave in and put out word that he was looking for new help.

Thinking that he might have better luck with someone a bit younger, he hired Song Qiu, a young, bright-eyed girl who radiated excitement and eagerness to please. She was only sixteen, and unlike Philomena, was in complete and utter awe of him. When she saw the interior of his house, she gasped in disbelief, rushing outside to look at the crumbling brick facade and then returning inside only to run back out again.

"This is brilliant!" she exclaimed as she returned to the foyer.

Booker closed the door behind her, trying to hide his self-satisfied smile. "Yes, well, I'm quite fond of it. Unfortunately, my work prevents me from keeping the place in good order."

Song peered into the parlour, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the room. Wincing, he joined her in the doorway. He had attempted to tidy up a bit before she arrived, but now he was noticing the number of teacups he had missed.

"I am sorry about the mess," he said. "I tried to—"

"This room is beautiful!" Song interrupted, making her way further inside and spinning about as she gazed at every odd furnishing and hanging mirror. "And so unique."

Her praise inflated his pride, and he cleared his throat as he leaned against the door frame. "I feel it's a good reflection of me. Wealth and beauty with a smattering of the bizarre." His eyes caught on a deformed cat skull he had forgotten to bring downstairs that was now decorating the mantle. "Some of it more intentional than the rest."

"I love it." Song's face fell suddenly, and she straightened herself up, regaining a sense of decorum. "I apologize, Mr. Larkin. I did not mean to be so informal. The wonder of your home swept me away. I do promise to be more professional in the future."

She dipped into a curtsey, and Booker waved her formality away. "No worries, my dear. I think you'll find I'm not a typical employer. I don't expect much from my help, simply to keep the house in decent condition and to respect the boundaries I set in place."

Song tilted her head to the side. "Boundaries?"

"Yes, mainly regarding the basement. The door will remain locked at all times, and no one is to enter but myself and those whom I choose to bring down with me."

The maid's eyes lit up. "How mysterious."

He raised his eyebrows and gave a cheeky grin. "Indeed. I am a man of all sorts of intrigue. Anyhow, aside from those conditions, I don't require much. I have very few guests and eat very little, so your duties will mostly involve cleaning."

"I've been a maid for several years, sir. Cleaning I can do."

He took one of her bags and nodded towards the stairs. "Very good. Allow me to show you to your room."

She followed after him with the rest of her luggage, gawking at everything they passed. He hadn't thought his home was that out of the ordinary, although he was aware that his tastes and interests had never been exactly normal. Still, it did stroke his ego to have a pretty young woman in such awe of both his home and himself. Perhaps this maid thing would work out after all.