Operation Red Book

"This is Ms. Claire Miller, the head maid, who has worked in my family for 25 years. This is Mr. George Smith, who has worked in my family for 10 years."

Mrs. Emerson introduced the ladies and gentlemen in servants' livery to the three, and they exchanged greetings.

"Ms. Miller, you went to comfort the servants who were killed, right?" Moriarty said gently.

"Yes, sir, I went to the servants' homes, expressed the Duke and Duchess' condolences to their families, and gave them the consolation money they deserved."

"Did you see the body?"

Holmes lit another cigarette and puffed on it in the corner.

The head maid's expression suddenly changed. Her pupils constricted, her muscles tensed, and her expression became nervous, as if she recalled something bad.

"I understand that this may scare you, but in order to investigate the truth of Cecilia's death, please describe all the details."

Moriarty tried to lower his voice, handed the tea in his hand to the head maid, and patiently persuaded her.

The head maid's expression eased a little, but there was still fear and tension in her eyes.

At Mrs. Emerson's signal, she took a sip of tea and spoke slowly.

"Their entire heads were cut off, and the wounds were very neat, as if they were killed with one blow. The area around the wounds was charcoal black, and red flesh and blood were mixed with charred charcoal. The entire morgue was filled with the stench of corpses and burnt smells."

The head maid's face turned green and her throat gurgled. She covered her mouth desperately, not wanting to be rude in front of the guests.

"Thank you, very useful information."

Moriarty took the cup back and placed it on the table.

"Mrs. Emerson, can you describe Miss Cecilia's body at the time of her death?"

Mrs. Emerson covered her chest, slowly sat down on the chair, lowered her head and spoke softly.

"There was a big hole in Cecilia's heart. Her face was blue, her lips were purple, her hair was messy, and she looked very painful."

“No burn marks?”

Joshua took the opportunity to speak, and when he saw Mrs. Emerson nod, he suddenly realized what was going on. He lowered his head in disbelief and remained silent.

"Mrs. Emerson, I can confirm that your daughter was not killed by the Headless Horseman. The statement that she was stabbed through the heart by the Headless Horseman while on horseback..."

Holmes spoke from the shadows. He threw his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with his foot. His voice was low and firm.

"It's just nonsense."

"You, you mean, the one who killed my daughter wasn't the Dullahan... Then! Who was it?"

Mrs. Emerson frowned, covered her chest, and spoke loudly and impatiently.

"The person who was at the scene first, the person who explained to you what happened, and the only person who was not killed after witnessing it."

Mrs. Emerson's chest heaved, and tears flowed in great quantities, soaking her clothes and desk.

"who is it……"

"lady!"

The door was opened and several panting servants, covered in dirt, walked in.

"The body is gone and the coffin is empty."

Joshua turned around and frowned as he slowly said to Mrs. Emerson: "Duke Lucas Emerson is the biggest suspect."

Bang, bang, bang—

Holmes and the other two sat in the corner in silence. Mrs. Emerson had cleared away all the items on the desk, and the servants stood in the corner with their heads down.

Mrs. Emerson collapsed on the floor, howling in agony and pounding her hands on the ground.

"Cousin, cousin..."

Count Waite knelt behind his wife and tried his best to comfort her, but to no avail.

"Mrs. Emerson, Duke Lucas Emerson killed your daughter. He strangled Cecilia's neck and stabbed her heart with a sharp blade. The Dullahan was just a cover-up for his murder. This is my inference."

Holmes's deep voice echoed in the study, even drowning out Mrs. Emerson's hysteria and floating into everyone's ears.

"I even think that the servants who were present at the time also understood what happened, so they were sent back home to make it easier for the Dullahan to kill the witnesses. Therefore, I also think that the Dullahan worked for the Duke and he was hiding among you."

Mrs. Emerson gradually stopped crying. She trembled and spoke incoherently: "Please, please find him and find out why he killed my daughter."

"Vernon..."

The silent butler at the side suddenly spoke up, looked into his lady's eyes, and spoke to Holmes more firmly.

"He was the Duke's former valet, and he came here five years earlier than me."

"Yes, the Duke recruited him three months after the servants were killed." The head maid also spoke.

"Where is he now?" said Count Waite seriously.

"Three years ago, on the day the Duke died, he disappeared without a trace. We all said he fled to Chicago."

"Don't say unfounded things... Tsk, the clue is broken again, this Vernon..."

Holmes frowned and put another cigarette between his lips.

Before he could take the matches out of his pocket, the study door was opened again.

This time, two men with serious faces came in. They were Mrs. Emerson’s eldest and second sons—Andrew and Edward.

"Mother, what's wrong with you?"

Andrew rushed forward and supported Mrs. Emerson who was slumped on the ground.

Edward had a solemn look on his face, and his sharp eyes scanned everyone in the room, finally setting his sights on Joshua and the other two.

"Did you do this? You harmed my mother to such an extent."

Edward stared at the three men with vicious eyes, his right hand already on the pistol on his waist.

"Why us?" Moriarty said with a smile, his blue eyes narrowed.

"Don't you know anything?"

"Don't be rude in front of guests, Edward."

Mrs. Emerson stood up tremblingly with Andrew's help.

"You stand over there too. I have something to ask you." The lady turned to Andrew and said.

Andrew looked at his wife with confusion. Her eyes flashed with majesty and anger, forcing him to hand her hand to Earl White and stand beside Edward.

Mrs. Emerson turned to them in her chair and asked sternly, "What do you know?"

Andrew and Edward both lowered their heads. Edward visibly trembled, but still bit his lip and said, "I don't know what mother is asking."

"Your father killed Cecilia."

"We don't know, Mother. We were less than 10 years old at that time."

Mrs. Emerson was so angry that she slammed the table. Andrew and Edward were shocked and lowered their heads even more.