Once the Brasslantis Grand Express finally arrived at their intended stop, Oliver and Juliet stepped off of the train station platform and onto a cobblestone street.

"Oliver," Juliet sighed. "I really must insist you let me do the talking. We won't even get in the doors if you begin with your detective routine."

"Oh, Juliet," Oliver said, pulling out his smoking pipe and tapping it on the end on his chin. "I've seen enough resistance to good detective work in my career. I think I can handle a few socialites."

"You're a university student! Oliver..." Juliet began rubbing her temples. "Look, my mother and Mrs. Lushington's badminton partner play bridge on Tuesdays. Let me get us in, alright?"

Oliver chuckled. "Very well, Juliet. Let me know if you need my help."

Juliet would have rolled her eyes had it not been unbecoming of her status. Instead, she adjusted one of her steam powered hair ornaments and began walking up the hill toward the best of the mansions on the street. 

Many of them had actual yards, filled with the finest imported soil and grass. Steam powered brass gates and mail boxes gleamed in the sunlight. The homes on this street could be argued as the most prestigious in town, and the crown jewel on the top of the hill was the Lushington Estate. 

Juliet knocked on the door gently, not wanting to damage her fine suede gloves, and awaited a butler to answer.

"Now remember, Oliver, let me speak first," Juliet said firmly.

"Yes, yes. I heard you the first time," Oliver said, polishing the handle of his magnifying glass on his shirt.

"What... where did you get a-"

"Welcome to the estate of the Lushington family."  A butler in coat tails long enough that they needed to be carried by a second butler answered the door. "Whomst may I ask is calling?"

Juliet turned, plastering her snootiest expression on her face, and looked down her nose at the butler. "Juliet Titania Katherine Desdemona Montague."

The butler nodded, glancing at Oliver. "Yes, Ms. Montague, we know your family. And who is this?"

"Er, I'm-"

"Oliver here is an acquaintance. We met through the renowned Professor Stirlingwell. You do know of the professor, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes of course," the butler nodded, opening the door wider. "Please do come in, you are both welcome to wait in the first parlor while I let Mrs. Lushington know you are here."

"Yes, thank you," Juliet replied. 

They followed the butler and his butler into a nearby room. It was filled to the brim with the latest, most fashionable leather and brass furniture that Brasslantis had to offer. Oliver was happy to sit in an armchair with a steam-powered ottoman, while Juliet sat daintily on a red velvet sofa where she could safely feint, if the occasion called for it.

"I will be back shortly," the butler announced, bowing as he left the first parlor doorway.

Juliet watched him go with a sigh. "Oliver, do you think the Lushingtons have already been told about Phoebe?"

Oliver shrugged. "The butler certainly wasn't acting like it."

Juliet brought out one of her lace handkerchiefs, clutching it to her chest. "I don't think it's our place to tell them then."

"Well, how do you propose we gather clues, Juliet?" Oliver asked. "I'm certain the Lushingtons have vital information to the case."

"Maybe," Juliet said, fidgeting with one of the many settings on her goggles. "I just wish you weren't pushing us forward so quickly. I feel as though we only need to sit down and think through the clues we have, and perhaps bring them to the police."

"Dear, sweet Juliet," Oliver said. "We only have a short time to prove the professor's innocence, remember? Time is of the essence."

Juliet sighed and stopped adjusting her goggles. "I guess you're right. Still, shouldn't we at least stop and take the time to investigate Mr. Deckerton?"

"No, I don't," Oliver said. "My genius instincts did not tell me he was suspect when we met him, and I don't think he's suspect now. Stop fixating on your ridiculous theories and pay attention while we're here. Now, do you think the Lushingtons still have a bedroom for their late daughter? Maybe we can look around."

"Oliver, that's dreadfully insensitive when they haven't even been notified that-"

"Shh," Oliver hissed, walking to the door to the parlor. "There's another visitor."

Oliver and Juliet listened as the butler and his butler received another guest at the front entrance. The voices were mumbled, but somewhat familiar. 

"I can't tell who it is, can you?" Juliet asked.

"No, but I think they're coming this way," Oliver said as he rushed back to take a seat. "Let's see how this plays out."

Juliet nodded, and the pair of them watched as the butler, his butler, and Dappersby Gogglegear himself entered the room.

"Please wait here, good Sir. I'll alert the family," the head butler said, and took Dapersby's coat. 

"Very good." Captain Dapersby turned from the door and spotted Oliver and Juliet after the butler and his butler left. 

"Captain Gogglegear." Oliver inclined his head. "How is your investigation going?"

Dapersby looked at Oliver with well deserved suspicion as he twirled his handlebar sized handlebar mustache. "Can't speak of the details, you know. Now, Oliver, what would you be doing here, hm?"

"Oh, well I was going to ask the Lushingtons-"

Juliet suddenly began coughing loudly, waving her arms and making a general distraction from the conversation at hand. 

"Oh my, Juliet dear are you alright?" Dappersby asked. 

"Juliet," Oliver said. "I'm sorry, I've been dragging you back and forth this whole time, you must be exhausted."

Juliet sat up immediatly, brushing off her skirts and smiling. "I'm better now, thank you gentlemen. Now, Captain, I believe you were about to tell us what brings you here?"

Dapersby frowned. "Was I? Well, it's no secret, at least not from you two since you were present. I'm here to break the unfortunate news about Phoebe. The family must be notified."

"Yes," Juliet said, giving Oliver a pointed look. "That must be done before anything else, mustn't it?"

"Quite right," Dapersby replied. "And I do believe the masters of the house are here. If you two will excuse me, I must deliver the unfortunate news."

Mr. and Mrs. Lushington could be seen coming down the hall. His waistcoat made form a fine and soft leather, and her gown taking up nearly the entire hallway with it's steam powered hoop skirt. The picture of refinement. 

Dapersby left the parlor to meet them, and Juliet and Oliver could see as the captain of the Brasslantis Police gestured to a more secluded place to speak to them. After a moment of Dapersby's soft murmurs, Mrs. Lushington could be seen falling to the ground, her head butler and his butler rushing to her side.

"Oh my, did she feint?" Oliver asked.

"Poor dear," Juliet whispered. "I believe she actually fainted."

"Dreadful," Oliver mumbled. "Simply... dreadful."

Oliver rose from his seat and began to creep toward the entrance of the parlor.

"Oliver, what in the world are you doing?" Juliet asked. 

"I'm going to search for clues. The Lushingtons will be in no state to speak with us after Dapersby's news."

"Well, that is true," Juliet admitted. "But, where are you going?"

But Oliver wasn't listening, and he had already crept to a stairwell not far from the parlor doorway.

"Drat!" Juliet hissed, and followed after him. 

Up the stairs and down the most expensive looking hallway, the pair found several lavish doors that were framed with portraits. Various Lushingtongs were pictured in their finest clothes and steam powered jewelry, until near the end of the hallway where they spotted Phoebe Lushington's portrait.

"This must be here room," Oliver said.

"Or it had been before she supposedly moved out with her beau," Juliet replied.

Oliver opened the door and slipped inside. Juliet looked around the hallway, biting her lower lip. "This feels so wrong."

"Juliet!" Oliver said. "Get in here."

"Hush! I'm coming," Juliet said, and slipped in the doorway. 

What met them was an astonishing sight of white and pink. Every surface had frills, brass embellishments, and most shocking of all...

"These portraits!" Juliet said. "They're..."

"Atrocious," Oliver finished. "The brushwork is terrible."

"No, not that," Juliet said. "These are all pictures of Mortimer Deckerton! It looks like Phoebe was very smitten, she's even tried to paint him. Oliver! This means that Mortimer Deckerton was not only Professor Stirlingwell's old partner with a motive, but also the mysterious man that my acquaintances at the country club said she had been spending time with!"

"She must not have liked him that much, to paint him so poorly," Oliver muttered.

"Take this serious, Oliver," Juliet scolded. "But, I'm worried we won't find any clues here. Didn't Phoebe move from here a while ago? Nothing in this room should be from just before her demise."

"Still, a good detective never overlooks a possibility," Oliver insisted and he began looking for clues and judging Phoebe's poor artistic abilities.

Juliet glanced around the room until she found Phoebe's writing desk. "Hm, what's this?"

She picked up a paper where Phoebe had written names all over it. Phoebe Deckerton. Phoebe Lushington-Deckerton. Mortimer Lushington. Mrs. Phoebe Deckerton. 

"My goodness, she was certainly head over heels," Juliet said. 

"Over here," Oliver said. "I've found something!"

Juliet walked over to the vanity. In the mirror, several ticket stubs had been tucked into the frame. 

"Ticket stubs?" Juliet asked. 

"They're from the past few months, stopping just a few weeks ago. And there are two of each ticket."

Juliet plucked one of the stubs from it's spot in the mirror. "This one has been written on. 'Our first date'. Oliver! They went to this theater often!"

"And maybe someone there knows something more about Phoebe after she became more reclusive!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Oliver, it's pretty clear she was with Mr. Deckerton," Juliet said. 

"Come, Juliet," Oliver insisted, striding out of the room. "We must find what Phoebe was up to before her murder!" 

"You probably shouldn't yell that," Juliet groaned. "Please, Oliver, if you would just consider that Mortimer-"

"To the theater!" Oliver exclaimed, and the pair rushed out of the Lushington estate and back to the Brasslantis Grand Express. Confident Oliver in front, and exasperated Juliet following.