Motives & Suspicions 

Immediately, there was chaos. Onew watched the events unfold from where he was still lying on the floor, trying to wrap his mind over what occurred. His eyes flickered over to Do Kyungsoo’s dead body. The glassy, empty eyes stared up at him as though in accusation. Already, the healthy cast of the skin was developing the sickly pallor and stiffness of rigor mortis. He reached out with a trembling hand to force the eyelids shut. How stupid they’d been, he cursed himself – they should’ve installed a guard at the door! But perhaps Kyungsoo would have refused to speak then.

It was impossible to know. And wasn’t that the way with all the ‘what ifs’ we torture ourselves with? 

Taemin had sprinted out into the hallway, and Onew could hear shouts coming from the floor below. The younger boy crashed into Kim Minseok, who’d come full tilt up the stairs and towards him. “What the devil was that?” Minseok demanded.

“Did you meet anyone on the way up the stairs?” Taemin asked sharply, looking slightly wild-eyed. Even in his haze of self-blame and shock, Onew felt a surge of satisfaction at how quickly Taemin had jumped to that conclusion.

“No,” Minseok said, shaking his head, “But I could have missed them.”

By this point, Tao, Jongin and Junmyeon had rushed out of their rooms to cluster around the body, Jongin sinking to his knees in abject horror. More and more people were coming up the stairs – Sehun, Chanyeol, Jessica, Yixing, Luhan, and Jongdae. And then there was the loud, frantic yelling of Odd Eye shoving through them to get to Taemin and Onew. “Jinki? Taemin? What happened? Were you hurt? Are you alright?” were all he could make out in the jumbled garble of three terrified voices. Jonghyun was pulling up and off the floor, fussing over his coat and checking him over, while Key squawked over Taemin anxiously, and Minho was giving every single member of El Dorado Estate, Junmyeon included, an expression of deathly anger.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m not hurt – Taemin saved my life,” Onew managed. Jonghyun was hugging him hard enough to make his ribs creak worryingly, dragging Onew’s unlikely saviour along with him. Then, Key and Minho joined him, in a simple, human need to be certain that they were alive, and life would continue on. 

Suddenly, he was blinking back tears. Yes, there was hope for all of them yet – and a future he rather wished would become his present, if only he let it.

And the guilt that haunted him, drew back a little.

The chatter and yelling of the suspects quickly pulled them out of their reverie. “Get away from that gun!” Jonghyun snapped, pulling on a pair of gloves from his bag of tricks. He knelt to examine it, snapping open his black bag for his fingerprint tools.

“Someone, get the body out of the room,” Junmyeon ordered, sounding choked and positively horrified, laying a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder. Jongin stared rather numbly out into space, hands shaking. A pale-faced Jongdae and Chanyeol, perhaps in the solidarity of one of their own being killed, sprang over to pick up the body of the little man.

“How did the man get away so quickly from the scene?” Minho asked, turning to look at Onew, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Easily enough,” Key said thoughtfully, “There’s always a minute of shock after a thing like this. We heard the shot, and we were all too paralyzed for a moment, trying to figure out what occurred, before we started running. Not to mention, the three of us were clustered away in the billiard room – we wouldn’t have seen who came down the stairs until we got up.”

“There’s only one off the second floor and that’s the stairs,” Taemin said slowly, occasionally sending worried glances over to the grieving Jongin. Onew could rather relate to Jongin’s feeling of shock. He’d nearly died after all.

“Unless he swung himself over the railing and onto the first floor directly,” Minho cried, “That would let him get right into the servants’ quarters quick!”  

“Or he could have gone down the hallway,” Key considered, “In the chaos and confusion, would you or Taemin have noticed someone coming out of Junmyeon’s office?”

“Three ways out,” Onew said, considering, “And no, we would not – I was getting acquainted with Junmyeon’s expensive carpet, and Taemin was speaking to Minseok. Jonghyun, any fingerprints on the revolver?”

“None,” Jonghyun said grimly, getting to his feet. Onew had expected as much.

“Just to make sure,” Onew murmured to himself, striding to Luhan’s door. The man in question gave a bark of disapproval, but Onew pointedly ignored him. Throwing open the place Taemin had found the revolver, he glanced down. The drawer was empty, the revolver gone. He turned to the soft-featured man, who arched his eyebrows in discontent. “Mr Luhan, is that revolver yours?”

Luhan glanced over at the murder weapon, a strange expression drawing across his face. After a moment, he nodded his head. “Where were you when Do Kyungsoo was shot?” Onew continued hotly, the nausea and adrenaline of the near-death experience still coursing through his veins.

“You are making a very serious accusation, detective,” Luhan snapped, raising a warning finger, “I was in the front atrium.”

“And what were you doing?”

“Thinking,” Luhan said acidly.

“And do you have a witness to prove that?”

“I do not,” Luhan admitted, “Regardless, the Estate was aware that I had a weapon in my possession. I had mentioned it before to various people and at dinner – I don’t remember who was there, but it was nearly everyone.” 

Onew sensed quickly that Luhan would admit nothing else. Forcing himself not to speak foolishly, he said with unnatural calm: “Mr Luhan, there are some matters I would like to discuss with you, tomorrow, once the household has settled the funeral.”

“I should be delighted.” Luhan did not sound delighted. He did not look delighted either. He his heel and entered his room, locking his door loudly behind him.

“Cunning little man,” Jonghyun commented, “But he’s afraid, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid!” It was Jessica Jung who had spoken up then, Chanyeol gently placing a soothing hand on his shoulder that she surprisingly did not shake off. The parlour maid’s face was white. “First Mr Wu, then Baekhyun, and then Kyungsoo! There seems no reason at all! Are we all to be killed?”

“There was a reason,” Onew told her sharply, recalling the second life left the cook’s body. He shuddered, looking out into the distance – saw that little smile before the trigger was pulled – “Do Kyungsoo was about to tell us that he had seen a certain person kill Byun Baekhyun. And Baekhyun had seen something as well. Unless you too know something, then you are safe, Miss Jung.”

At these words, the household began to speak amongst themselves. Suspicion coloured their fac