Chapter 4 Investigation
Sophia nodded, deep in thought. 'So that's how it is.'
She wasn't all that shocked. Big detective agencies sometimes hired ex-cops to help with cases. They had the inside scoop, experience, and could get things done easier.
"I just checked your file," the guy said, grabbing a document from under the cabinet. "You took on the Bianca Wilson suicide case."
His pale fingers skimmed the paper. "It's detailed—doubts, people involved, clues. You wrote it all down. Got any leads on the suspect?"
Sophia squirmed in her chair. "Still working on it. We're close to identifying the suspect."
The guy nodded, put the file back, and went back to work.
"What's your name?" Sophia asked, suddenly curious.
"James Thomas."
Sophia chuckled. "I'm Sophia Brown, and you can just call me Sophia."
No response.
She turned around and saw James already wiping down the file cabinet, ignoring her.
Weird guy.
After cleaning up the Mystery Detective Agency, James said, "Lock the door when you leave."
He walked out.
"Hey, wait up," Sophia hesitated, then followed him. "Can you help me with something?"
James kept walking. "What is it?"
Sophia stammered, struggling to get the words out.
James seemed to read her mind. "Is it about the case?"
Sophia nodded eagerly. "I went to Bianca's house, but her family wasn't cooperative. Her husband won't answer my calls. Can you come with me?"
James kept walking, silent.
Sophia trailed behind him.
'James, say something,' she thought.
Soon, James stopped by the road. He got on a black motorcycle and turned to her. "Hop on."
Sophia hesitated, then awkwardly climbed on.
James sped off.
"Slow down!" Sophia yelled, clutching his waist.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at 188 Brookside Road.
They walked into Matthew's villa.
Sophia glanced around. The housekeepers were gone, and a couple of people were tidying up the yard. Inside the hall, a woman stood alone.
The woman scowled when she saw Sophia. "Why are you here again?"
Before Sophia could answer, James stepped forward and flashed his badge. "We're from the Brookside Road Police Department. We need to ask you some questions. Please cooperate."
The woman's demeanor changed instantly. She grabbed a kettle, her hands shaking so much she almost dropped it. After pouring two glasses of water, she pointed to the couch. "Please, sit. Ask away."
Sophia didn't hold back. "So, how much do you know about Mrs. Moore?"
The woman took a big gulp of water. "I've known her for about eight years."
"She was a capable woman, but stingy, unreasonable, and a bit stubborn," the woman said, starting with some praise before diving into the negatives.
Sophia pressed on. "Do you know how she died?"
The woman pointed to the stairs behind her. "She fell there, rolled down from the third floor, hit her head, broke her neck, and died instantly."
Sophia rolled her eyes, asking something she already knew. "Why are you here?"
The woman smiled bitterly. "I've been with Matthew for eight years. Bianca knew about us but refused to divorce, so we had to wait. I actually moved into this villa last year."
Even though she had a rough idea of the situation, Sophia was still shocked. 'The wife and the mistress living together? And they both knew? How did they not kill each other?'
"Were you here the night Mrs. Moore fell down the stairs?" Sophia finally asked the crucial question.
"I wasn't. That afternoon, I bought a ticket to Silverlight City for a bonfire party. I only found out afterward." The woman answered all of Sophia's questions.
The woman was Harper Anderson, 31 years old, with an elementary school education. She met Matthew eight years ago and had no criminal record.
Sophia finished taking notes and headed upstairs.
She carefully examined every spot along the stairs, even using a magnifying glass for the tiny corners from the first floor to the third floor, and then finally stopped.
The third floor was where Bianca used to live.
Everything had been cleared out. The spot where the wedding photo used to hang only had a frame imprint and four nail holes left on the wall, as if Bianca had never existed.
"Ms. Anderson," Sophia took a deep breath. "Why did you clear out all her things before Mrs. Moore even had her funeral?"
Harper awkwardly scratched her head. "I'm about to marry Matthew. Do you think I can tolerate her stuff in the place I live?"
Sophia was speechless, thinking, 'So Bianca had to tolerate you living here before?'
"When Mr. Moore returns, please have him contact me." With that, Sophia left.
At the door, James stopped and looked at the yard. "In Emerald City, when a relative dies, they usually keep the coffin at home for seven days. Why don't I see a coffin?"
At that moment, a worker cleaning the yard couldn't hold it in anymore. He ran to the back of the villa and unzipped his pants.
A sudden wind blew, making the worker shiver. Just as he was about to relieve himself, he heard a noise behind him. Then a large black cloth fell, almost covering him. He turned around and saw a huge coffin.