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..."

"Sounds like a fun time. Why did you stop?"

Mrs Keene sighed. "We just... took different roads. We've changed. When we started, George and Mary were newlyweds, I was only being courted by Mr. Keene, Robert... well, he was Patricia's little brother's teacher..."

"I see. So, it was you, Mr. Keene, Mary, George, Patricia..."

"And Robert. Some others came, however, us six were the ones always present."

"Who is at the hotel right now?"

"Everyone except for Patricia. She's been suffering from poor health for a very long time, it couldn't have gotten better."

"You don't know the actual reason she's not here though, do you?" asked the assistant distractedly while catching up on her notetaking.

"Uh?"

She stopped for a moment to look at the woman's back, forming a shapeless shadow due to the sunlight coming from the opposite direction. "You said she couldn't have gotten better, not that she is not doing better, or that she is doing worse. You're not sure of how she's doing, it seems."

"Will it always be like so with you two? It's starting to exhaust me."

After a quick whispered "Good catch," which delighted Alice, the detective doubled down. "Did Robert not give any news about his wife?"

"Talk to him, Mr. Alderton, and you'll understand without needing a word from me. And to be clear," she continued while turning her head just enough to peek behind her shoulder. "I don't like bad-mouthing people who are not present."

"But you would to their face?"

"If they deserve it, absolutely."

"What about your husband?"

"What about him?"

"Why didn't he come with you two?"

"He's working, as many men do. By the way, the other note was slid under the door while I was looking for my daughter after a quick rest. I haven't been feeling too well all morning."

The assistant opened it, for both to read: "Your daughter is safe with me, for now. Worry about yourself: you'll have to hang on the edge of death if you want to see her again. Miss Grace, in your lovely lilac dress, and your white bonnet that you carefully put on the little table by the window, don't try to cheat Atropos, watcher of your predetermined fate. If I don't see you in your place soon, if I see you leave it even for a moment, destiny will take its course, a thread will be cut. Your faithful friend, A Familiar Face."

"I imagined this is what he meant with 'hang on the edge of death' since he mentioned the little table by the window."

The white bonnet was, of course, still in its place.

CAMDEN'S NOTES

Grace Keene: on vacation with her daughter, in the company of old friends. Invited by daughter's kidnapper? The girl disappeared while she was sleeping. She found a note on the floor of her room.

Olive Keene: the girl who was kidnapped. Happened sometime after breakfast. Left her toy in the room.

Mary and George Livingston: two old friends. Their house in the country was used for the yearly party. They are at the hotel.

Robert McKinley: old friend. Present at the hotel. His wife was part of the group, did not come. Why?

REFLECTIONS, PART ONE

"I apologize for pushing you onto the stage so abruptly," said Alderton once they were outside the room, walking toward the first floor. "I wanted to show our lady that she can't keep information from us. She still lied, despite the stakes being so high, which means there's a huge secret on the line. Let's not fret, we'll find out with the other three."

He didn't mean it, though, that first part. He wasn't sorry, and he wasn't trying to test her, as she surely must have been thinking. He took great delight in seeing an unmoving surface in appearance, be disturbed to move in bizarre and uncanny ways against its nature; for he hadn't witnessed such anxiety and doubt in her even when they'd first met.

"I imagined there must have been a good reason," responded she, already back to her usual, collected self. "Although it went well enough this once, I wouldn't rely on a beginner such as myself if looking for a good impression Mr..." She stopped for a moment, contemplating whether to go against her social boundaries, her set of core beliefs – or so it seemed from the contrition of her sharp countenance. "...John."

"I hope you're not trying to discredit your capabilities by implying that I have poor judgement, Miss Alice."

"No, I..." She stopped, took a deep breath, and forced a change of subject, too flustered to notice his amused expression. "You mentioned that Mrs Keene lied."

"It would be more accurate to say that she withheld information, trusting that we wouldn't press further."

"The part about those peculiar gatherings did seem a bit vague, now that I think about it."

"The one about her husband too. We just stumbled on the key to this whole case, now we only need to find the right door, either Robert, Mary, George, or all of them, who knows."

"You believe that this is what will lead us to the one responsible for all the chaos?"

He nodded. "The reason why those parties ended intrigues me the most. I bet that whatever happened would ruin them if the world came to know."

The woman remained quiet for a few seconds. "If this Familiar Face is connected to those gatherings..."

"Yes..."

"And he was the one to invite all of them to the hotel..."

"Yes..."

"He'll want to strike again, at each of them."

"For all we know he might already have struck."

"There's only one way to find out, I suppose."