With the butler out of my way, business could now proceed as usual. I swept a critical eye around the room in which I stood in, which was admittedly very posh. I didn't know much about interior decorating, but this was definitely some expensive stuff - even if, in my opinion, the colour scheme was a little red. The burgundy carpet looked lovely and soft, the ruby red chandelier practically a weapon with dozens of tiny super-sharp shards, the dark red staircase very spectacular and shiny; but frankly, the amount of contrasting shades of red was giving me a miniature heart attack.

I wondered if, by any chance, Kristen favoured the colour red. I still hadn't given up on my theory that Kristen murdered her dad, and if she had it would be almost laughable that she loved the crimson colour of blood.

I grabbed my suitcase by the handle and yanked it up one stair at a time, a painfully slow method of transportation. I could catch up with fleeing criminals without a single sweat, but faced with a million stairs and a suitcase I'd overpacked, I was positively red with exertion - blending right in with the interior of the house.

I finally reached the end of my colossal upward climb, and I was finally like I'd just climbed the Empire State Building. I was actually pretty proud of myself, which was slightly sad considering I'm really fast at running. Seriously though, my suitcase is heavy.

I was completely torn in what to do next. My big dilemma was that I could either go and nosy about the house whilst Kristen was under the impression I was still on the train, or I could go and talk to Kristen so I had more information for nosing about the house later. I quickly decided to go meet Kristen first, mainly because my curiosity was killing me, but also because Ben was bound to soon tell I'd arrived and if I had more information about the case I could do a better job later.

I left my suitcase at the top of the stairs, because I was adamant about not lugging that thing around anymore. Besides, unless you were in a dire tampon-needing situation, there wasn't anything of any value to me in there for a potential thief to take. I had purposely chosen clothes I didn't really like that much to take with me in case the hills of Scotland were muddy and littered with unimaginable types of shit from animals, and my poor iPad and laptop were pretty much past the point of repair.

I remembered what the taxi driver had said about parts of the house falling into disrepair, and glanced quickly around me. Sure enough, the carpet continued down to my left towards a gold-painted (a sight for sore eyes) hallway, whereas on the other side things got noticeably shabbier and dusty, with some cobwebs even infiltrating the gloom. A couple of spiders scuttled across the floor, but that didn't particularly bother me because I think that it's just plain silly to be scared of spiders. Why not be scared of a reasonably dangerous animal, such as a crocodile? Spiders in the UK can't hurt you.

I went down the left hand side, pretty much following the signs of extra expense towards what I reckoned were rooms belonging to Kristen. The mansion had been in the family for generations, and had been left briefly after the First World War in order for the family to live in the city. When Kristen's grandfather started making his fortune, he did up the house he had inherited and moved back in, christening it McMahon Mansion, but the design of the house was still the same. Therefore it would be prudent to assume that Kristen would live on this floor, and have a wing of guests, with the servants sleeping somewhere else - possibly the attic.

I pressed my ear against one of the doors, and heard a very faint voice coming from inside. Satisfied with my sleuthing skills, I knocked the door. Immediately there was a reply. "Come in."

I opened the door without any further delay, and stepped into the room confidently. This room was noticeably decorated in green and silver, a sharp contrast to the red and gold of outside. Instantaneously my mind jumped to Harry Potter, and how the Black family house had been all silver and green Slytherin colours apart from the red and gold of Sirius's room. A faint smile made it's way to my face before I shook my head sharply and went back to strict professionalism. "Kristen McMahon," I greeted her, in case she insisted on some 'miss' business. I wanted her to get the message in advance that I wouldn't be sticking any fancy labels onto her name.

Kristen was draped across a deep green lounge chair, her dark hair entwined in little braids around her head before dropping into long and loose perfection. She was decked out in diamond earrings, necklace, bracelet and rings, as well as killer heels (they could seriously kill me if I tried to walk in them). But to my surprise instead of a fancy dress or other form or expensive clothing, she was wearing a silk robe tied loosely around her private area, exposing a large V of skin beginning at the edges of her shoulders and ending at her belly button. Her boobs were pretty much completely on display, which was surprising but I was determined not to feel awkward by it because that was probably what she intended. After all, we were all girls here, so it wasn't some major revelation for me.

If Kristen was waiting on some blushes or stammering from me, she was disappointed. However, she didn't show it. Instead she raised a boldly pencilled in eyebrow. "Are you gay?"

That momentarily stunned me. Was she actually serious? Did she just invite people to her house, sit half-naked and ask them if they were gay? "No." I answered. "But I am completely at ease with those who are." Again, I decided not to make any remarks on the unorthodox question. I wanted to see what kind of game she was playing at first.

"The way you stared at me was gay."

"Maybe if you put some clothes on before meeting guests, people wouldn't stare." I said impulsively. I had known this woman for all of one minute, and I already hated her. "And if I was gay, why should you care? It doesn't make me any less of a good detective."

"Maybe if you let the butler take you up, I would have clothes on." She said in the same bored, emotionless tone. "Reagan."

Reagan burst through the door on cue, holding a black and white pinstriped pantsuit in one hand and a green wrapped dress in the other. "Here are the clothes you requested." She stated, leaving them on the other chaise lounge opposite Kristen. Reagan smiled at me before hurrying off, leaving me with nothing more to discern about her other than she had dark brown hair and was rather small.

Kristen stood up, and pulled off the robe. I averted my eyes as she pulled on the dress, for modesty's sake, even though she obviously couldn't care less about her nakedness. When she was appropriately dressed, I looked back. "Well?" She asked. "Aren't you going to get dressed?"

I creased my eyebrows. "I am dressed."

"You can't possibly wear that in my house. There are strict dress clothes your little suit doesn't quite meet." She said disdainfully, and I considered the merits of punching her rude face. "Take the clothes I give you and wear them."

She sat on the chaise lounge again, watching me critically as I picked up the pantsuit. It wasn't exactly to my taste, but for once I bit my tongue and decided to just go along with it. Yes, I could throw everything back in her face and make her wish she'd never been born, or I could bide my time, play her game and solve this case. This wasn't just a simple missing jewellery case; I was in uncharted territory. Kristen never invited anyone to her mansion. There was bound to be some concrete evidence here I could use to prove my theory that she killed her dad. So for once, I was going to avoid acting rashly and try my best to make Kristen think she was safe - until I locked her up.

"Is there somewhere I can change?" I asked politely, which was akin to me begging her for forgiveness and pledging my devotion to her. Luckily, I'd gotten rather good at acting.

"Here." She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it finally dawned on me that she was going to just sit there and watch me get changed. Was she gay? Was this her way of getting kicks? Was she recording this to watch later?

Or was she just a psychopath who delighted in tormenting others?

I changed as quickly as I could, the whole thing only adding more fuel to my fire of convicting her of murder. God, I hoped I was right. I hoped I would find some way to bring her down.

"Good." She gave a satisfactory smile. "I'll take that gun if you please. I don't allow weapons in this house. And it's good to see you haven't tried to smuggle anything in - Reagan has just checked your luggage and it's clean."

I didn't even hear Reagan enter the room, but when I turned around I saw her standing apologetically behind me. She reached out and grabbed the gun, leaving the room at lightning speed before I could make a fuss.

"So that was all so you could check I wasn't taking weapons in?" I asked suspiciously. "Why would you change too then?"

She smiled again. "Yes, it was. As for your entry at the beginning, I merely thought Reagan was having unnecessary manners and had begun knocking before entering. I really did need to change before your arrival - I hadn't been forewarned you were already here. And I am perfectly comfortable with nudity - it is the most natural thing in the world, so I wouldn't mind for you to see me changing, I was merely making sure you wouldn't get aroused over it first."

To my frustration, her explanation of the strange events seemed completely valid, if slightly strange. I couldn't help but wonder if it had all been done to throw me off balance, but if she'd hired me in the first place, why would she want anything less than an on-point detective? Nothing was making any sense.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" She nodded for me to take a seat. "Let me tell you the details of the case."

___________

It's been a while since my last update, and this isn't the best of chapters, but I just wanted to get across how strange everything in McMahon Mansion is. Over my break, I've made some major changes to the plot of the book, and I hope it's going to be a lot more original. It does mean it's going to be a short novel, I'm placing it at around twenty chapters long and an epilogue, but hopefully it means it'll be quite fast paced and exciting. It's going to be split into two parts, the first part will be about nine chapters long. The second part is going to be a lot more exciting and there's going to be a whole lot of plot developments I can't wait for, as well as there being some more action as this is a mystery/thriller. Anyway, thank you for reading, and please vote and comment if you enjoyed this!