Linneus hurried out to the meadow so that he could be alone and concentrate on the mystery, instead of having to worry about what he was going to wear to the ball like the other useless detectives.
    When Linneus arrived at the crime scene he noticed that the only thing that was left was an easel with a painting of a moon with a few blood stains on it. Linneus took note of the thick consistency and immediately knew that it was real blood. The count had been very unclear on the details - especially the part about why the countess had been outside in the middle of the night painting a crescent moon - but Linneus was firmly determined on finding the murderer. He took out his magnifying glass and went closer to have a look at the grass. The long grass blades bent in the mild wind as Linneus gazed through the glass. He noticed that there were spots of dried blood on the grass tips, but he wasn't very interested in that. He wanted to know more about the painting. Why had they left it out here, instead of moving it inside with the countess?
    Linneus stood up to look at the crime scene further away. He had to think like a murderer. Where would he hide to spy on the countess? Linneus shut his eyes and visualized the situation. He imagined a maiden sitting in the meadow, a strongly shining moon above her, and the quiet observer nearby. Linneus saw that the observer held a kitchen knife, ready to strike at any given moment. But Linneus needed the answer to one question - exactly where was the murderer the minutes before the countess got stabbed?
    Linneus spun around on the meadow. The easel was facing to the north. He turned and saw the old stone well, south of the easel. It was q obvious that it was the perfect hiding spot for the murderer. That night the countess had her back against the well, with her eyes locked on the moon. She must've been strictly focused on the sky.
    Linneus grinned when he saw faint mud tracks near the well. This was almost too easy. 
    The footsteps came from the well, so Linneus trudged there feeling pleased. The well wasn't so far away from the meadow and there were a few apple trees surrounding it, but otherwise it was an excellent lookout point. Linneus dipped his head in the well to see how deep it was, but the dark made it impossible to see anything. He pulled one of the fresh red apples from the trees and threw it down the well. He heard the apple thudding against the bottom immediately and Linneus looked down in a confused manner. Then he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. The heels could be heard clearly, and Linneus' heart started to beat in line with them.
    "Oh, there you are!" Hamilton shouted from behind. "You're certainly anxious to get started with the work. Anyway, I just left our baggage in the guest room. I can show you the way there so that you can rest a bit before the ball."
    Linneus nodded hastily and left the well, praying that whoever was down there hadn't heard Hamilton's obnoxiously loud voice and traced it back to Linneus. He slowed down a bit and glanced at the well. Certainly peculiar.

Later, Linneus and Hamilton had ventured into one of the castle's guestrooms. It was a big room with white silk curtains that framed the windows, and through the colored glass a lovely view of the meadow was present. Linneus shifted his look to the stone well. He hadn't forgotten the footsteps and knew that he had to visit it again - alone, of course. Linneus didn't want anybody to interfere and make him unfocused. 
    "He's behaving a little odd," Hamilton suddenly pointed out. "The count, I mean. He doesn't seem to have reacted so strongly to his wife's demise. Do you think the ball is a distraction from that?"
    "Not at all," Linneus answered as he shut the curtains. He didn't like the sunlight. "The count arranged the ball so that we can find the murderer for him, not the countess. He and his wife must've had quite a weak relationship for him to only be worried about his own life. Actually very worried. He's so protective of his fortune and he doesn't want anybody to touch it. The count wants to find the murderer as soon as possible; that's why he rushed and gave us so little information. Simple."
    Hamilton concurred eagerly when Linneus explained, to show that he was right on track. Even if Hamilton obviously hadn't seen the situation from the same angle as Linneus he pretended as if he was on the exact same path. Linneus was used to it.
    "Slow-thinker as always, Hamilton," Linneus teased and fell down on one of the beds. His head thudded lightly against the chunky, soft pillow. "Wake me up when the ball begins."