The Search

It took several long moments of Junmyeon pleading with the inhabitants of El Dorado Estate before at last there was reluctant consent to the detectives’ actions. Not that it would have stopped him, but Onew had always been a stickler for politeness rather than aggression in these matters. “Do you think one of them is hiding something?” Jonghyun asked Onew under his breath.

Onew rose to his feet as Minho and Key began searching a bemused Junmyeon. “It is useless to speculate. Let us get on with our real job – and keep our eyes open.”

“And there’s also the problem with the butler,” Jonghyun added doggedly as they exited the dining room, “He’s still not back yet.”

“Well, he must return at some point. Of course, it is possible that he overheard us speak of the search…”

“And then decided to run away or throw himself into the pond?” Taemin interjected.

“Oh no,” Onew said, oblivious to Taemin’s sarcasm, “That would be most foolish of Mr Byun. And he is much too smart a man for that.”

They began first with Chanyeol’s cottage, since it was outside and most out of the way. It was a simple rectangular wooden cottage, weather-beaten and well lived in. The trio scoured it quickly, finding there was very little in the way of personal possessions – Taemin’s rooting through Chanyeol’s cupboard found only shabby work clothes, and a slightly fraying but marginally better shirt and pants to go to church. There were also several sheets of paper with shaky, clumsy written scrawl on them, the same phrases repeated over and over again.

“He’s teaching himself to write?” Taemin commented, flipping through them.

“Most likely – to impress Miss Jung, no doubt,” Onew responded, examining the lantern, and the multitude of seed packets scattered around the room. “He is very messy.”

“Nothing out here but gardening tools!” Jonghyun commented, popping the top of his head up over the windowsill, “And Yifan wasn’t killed by getting bashed over the head with a rake.”

They passed on to the servant’s quarters, a small corridor of four little rooms – three clustered for the men, and one for the parlourmaid. Jongdae’s room was the smallest, an uncomfortably cramped area that consisted mainly of a rumpled and untidy bed, and small cupboard. A meticulous search brought up a large stack of cheap halfpenny literature, sensationalist stories revolving around moon landings and captive princesses, as well as several newspaper cutouts that he must have found interesting. His clothes, like Chanyeol’s, were worn. There were also some literature of altogether more questionable nature, that made Jonghyun chuckle.

“The more I know him, the more I like him – I hope it wasn’t him,” he said, as Taemin arched a brow, pinking slightly at the sight of one of the pin-ups. Onew only made a small noise at the back of his throat, and they moved on to Baekhyun’s room.

Befitting his nature, the room was carefully arranged and nearly spotless. “I do hope he isn’t angered by our search,” Onew said belatedly, as Jonghyun gleefully dumped the entire contents of Baekhyun’s wardrobe onto the ground.

His clothes were of a finer make, carefully pressed, and he possessed several books. It was rather bare, as Onew carefully opened the drawers of the tiny writing table. There was no correspondence; Baekhyun, Onew thought, was very careful to destroy all letters. It suggested a very calculating mind. Beneath a notebook, he blinked. He reached inside and pulled out several bills, counting them in front of Jonghyun and Taemin. It was a sizeable amount, certainly more than he would earn monthly, even with a generous master. “Curious,” he said, “They are new.”

“Perhaps he hadn’t time to go to the bank?” Taemin suggested.

“Perhaps,” was all Onew said, but there was an odd look in his eyes. He roused himself, striding quickly from the room, wondering if the butler had returned to the house yet. The matter would need to be questioned. 

Kyungsoo’s room was similarly carefully kept clean, in a manner that Jonghyun stated, on first entering, could best be described as dull. Still, there were glimmers of personality: cookbooks that had carefully written notes and blistering commentary on the dietary requirements of each occupant, a disgusted reminder of Baekhyun’s upcoming birthday, and more than a few murder mysteries. Disappointingly, there was nothing else of interest, and they finished their search swiftly.

The last of the servant’s rooms was Jessica’s. She had managed to acquire the better deal as her room had a very small window that allowed her to see some of Chanyeol's well-kept flowers. Indeed, Onew thought wryly, they might have been better maintained precisely because they were outside Jessica Jung's window. The wardrobe revealed several dresses, and there was a photograph of a dark-haired, half-smiling young woman that Onew guessed was Jessica’s frail sister. Jonghyun picked the lock of a suitcase under the bed, but it contained only a set of travelling clothes and a variety of medication. “Um…”

Onew looked up from where he had been moving through several papers of Jessica’s. “What is it, Taemin?”

“Do I…. err, have to search her…” He was pointing towards one of Jessica’s drawers, eyes darting about rapidly.

The older detective nodded vigorously. “Of course! Impertinent it may be, but is it not the perfect place to hide something?”

Ears burning, Taemin reluctantly began his search through her underclothes. Suddenly, he gasped, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. Instantly, Jonghyun and Onew were by his side, as Taemin carefully unfolded it. “It’s the start of a letter,” Onew observed. “K – I feel that… I am so afraid we – that is all. Jonghyun, would you say it matches the handwriting of those on the desk?”

Seizing the letter, Jonghyun scuttled over to the desk, pulling out a magnifying glass. “Thank you, Father Christmas! At a glance, they are identical,” he stated after a few moments, “And even with some examination, there are similarities in the way the letters all lean a bit to the right, the shape of the ‘Y’, spacing between words… It’s either an accurate forgery, or she wrote this letter.”

He gave a self-satisfied grin, and then his brow furrowed. “Who is ‘K’? Kyungsoo?”

“I think that is very unlikely,” Onew said dryly, making Taemin smirk. “K… Yes, it fits, it fits…”

But he would not say what it was that he had realised.

They proceeded up the grand staircase to the rooms upstairs. Jongin and Lay were sharing a room, so they searched this one first. The room had clearly been divided into two sides, being large enough. On Jongin’s side of the room were a rumpled bed and several walking sticks, and a variety of photographs of friends and family, including one of him and Taemin that made the younger boy laugh and look happier than Onew had ever seen him. There were also tickets to the pictures, and a playbill for an u