The Questioning 

Odd Eye – minus Jonghyun, who had gone to retrieve fingerprints from Junmyeon and Jongin – now found themselves settled across from Junmyeon’s foreign trustee. Luhan was one of the prettiest men Minho had ever laid eyes upon, with delicate features and light brown hair, dressed in a fine suit that showed his slender form. Smiling he would probably have been a remarkable sight.

It was a shame then that he currently looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Onew remarked brightly that it was indeed a very nice guest bedroom, with a several chairs pulled up in front of the bed to make a small circle. Luhan had very pointedly chosen a chair situated to keep them as far a distance away as he could without appearing impolite. Minho had to resist the urge to laugh. If they were paid based off the number of foul looks they received, all of them would be able to retire immediately.

“I trust this will be short. Junmyeon and I have much to take care of,” Luhan said shortly, folding his arms across his chest. Minho arched a brow, but Onew merely smiled pleasantly. Luhan’s lip curled. Minho felt a quiet surge of triumph at that. Five years might have passed them by, but he still knew his leader. So many suspects fell for his charming, clueless inspector behaviour – and that was precisely what Odd Eye was looking for. How had they managed all these years apart?

“I assure you,” Onew began, before he coughed, clearing his throat loudly. “Ah, I apologise, I’m rather thirsty.” Onew appeared embarrassed, making as if to stand.

“Then pull the bell. The servants fetch everything, they’re a well-trained sort,” Luhan said imperiously. Onew glanced at Minho, who was seated next to the long chord. He reached over and tugged on it.

“How ingenious! Perhaps I should get one for myself,” Onew commented.

“Eugene wouldn’t stand for it. She’s too fond of hollering at you,” Key muttered, making Minho chuckle under his breath. Baekhyun had appeared briskly at the doorway, and Luhan had snapped at him to bring them drinks. The small butler smiled, gave a bow, and disappeared, but not without sending a swift glance at the detectives. There was something about both men that didn’t sit right with Minho, and he trusted his instincts. Just as they told him that Key was wrong to suspect Junmyeon.

“Might I inquire why you are staying at El Dorado Hall?” Onew asked.

Luhan scowled. “Don’t see why it’s any of your business. Junmyeon and I have business matters to settle that require my immediate presence.”

Onew did not question him further, even though Minho was itching to pounce and demand to know exactly what Luhan was doing. He had little trust in these wealthy types, Junmyeon notwithstanding. “If you would recount to us your actions and what occurred on the night of the murder.”

The businessman said nothing for a moment, folding his hands neatly in his lap. “We had a meal, and then drinks. Yifan sat alone, tried to speak with us when we were having an important talk, and I told him off. You know those artistic types: don’t understand a damn thing about business.

“Then Junmyeon’s son’s little friend spoke to him, and then that Doctor Zhang. He was quiet most of the evening, and then most of the children and the Doctor went off to bed. Junmyeon and Yifan went off to discuss something – don’t know what. I played billiard with the secretary before, and then I retired for the night before they found the body.”

“And what time was this at?”

“I left the billiard room at around a quarter past eleven, and went to bed at around half past eleven.” At this point, they were interrupted by Jonghyun entering with Baekhyun trailing after him, holding a tray laden with drinks. Onew took one, taking his time to drain the glass. Minho could see Luhan drumming his fingers impatiently on his thigh, and fought the urge to smile. There was a method to Onew’s madness; it simply took one a time to see it. And Minho had always had an opportunity to study it, considering that he was hardly ever involved in the questioning, except for when he was required to look large and threatening.

Smiling to himself, Onew set down the glass and continued with his questions. “And you heard nothing between then and 1 in the morning?”

“Nothing beyond that dreadful racket with the telephone and the knocking. Woke me right up.” 

Onew nodded to himself. Already Minho could see details that Luhan had not mentioned, and that, as always, was curious, though Onew would have cautioned him against drawing conclusions. “Did Kim Jongin and Oh Sehun find a gun during that time in the billiard room?”

“Yes. Little thing in a cabinet. Junmyeon told them to return it.”

“And was the cabinet left open afterwards?”

“Yes,” Luhan said decidedly, after thinking about it, “Is that all?”

“Yes –oh. I do wish to know, were you and Wu Yifan on close terms?” Onew asked. Minho studied Luhan’s face carefully, but saw nothing in that cold, steady gaze. It disappointed him. He wanted to catch the criminal as soon as possible, both for Junmyeon’s health, and to forestall any further suspicion on the man.

“We were acquaintances, nothing more. Man kept to himself,” Luhan said carelessly. Onew nodded to himself, motioning at Jonghyun to take Luhan’s fingerprints. The man protested, muttering about being treated like a common criminal, and Jonghyun nearly had to grab the man’s hand and forcibly press it down onto the paper. They were very nearly booted out of the room. As it was, Minho caught Luhan muttering several choice words as the door slammed shut behind them. Yes, it was just like old times. Doing consulting work for the police could not compare. He walked with a spring in his step.

“Rude, wealthy type,” Jonghyun stated as they made for the stairs, and Minho, Key and Taemin nodded. Only Onew said nothing, running his finger across his lip. Yes, Onew definitely had some thoughts, but he was playing his cards close to his chest. Minho wished he could deduce what they were. “Who’s next?”

“The secretary, and the doctor. Then we shall interrogate the servants.”

The first thought in Minho’s mind was that Kim Minseok had cheeks exactly like a squirrel, or perhaps one of those exotic little pets. They were currently puffed up in irritation. He wore a pair of spectacles, and a carefully pressed suit, though it was certainly far shabbier than Luhan’s. He had dark hair. Kim Minseok had been typing up some sort of document in his bedroom, and Minho saw that it was some kind of financial statement from where the corner of the paper peeked out of the typewriter. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Key appeared to be scrutinizing the man’s face very carefully.

At the moment, Minseok was explaining his position. “I have worked as Mr Kim’s secretary for the past four years. Prior to this, I worked for MADE Industries. I do not understand your need to question my qualifications, I find it immensely distasteful and I shall speak to Mr Kim about this.” 

“And how is Suho Industries doing?” Onew asked pleasantly, his bright smile not even faltering at the blatant hostility.

Minseok started, taken aback by the question. His demeanour was stiff. “It is doing very well, thank you. We are currently aiming to expand into the subcontinent.”

“Ah, perhaps I was not clear. I meant, is there a particular reason that Mr Luhan would need to come all the way here for business matters? It is such an awful journey by boat, and the sea sickness –”

“He suggested it himself,” Minseok said with reluctance, giving Onew a searching look. “Mr Kim had certain concerns about some financial matters that you would not understand. Mr Luhan felt it was best if they oversaw them personally.”

Minho arched a brow. This was unknown to him. Onew did not remark upon this further, shifting to a recount of the night. As the others before him had spoken, Minseok repeated the same story: he had been taking notes on the plans for the following day as Junmyeon and Luhan. Afterwards, they had spoken, the gun had been seen, and then he had gone to play billiard with Luhan. He had gone to bed at a quarter past eleven. All of this was recounted in a clipped manner, as though he were trying to rid himself of them as fast as possible.

On the cabinet however, he was uncertain. “I did not really pay attention to it,” he said, “It could have been open.”

Very well, they moved past that. “There was a sound at around one in the morning,” Minseok continued, “I stepped outside the room to investigate. I met Jongdae – the groundskeeper – he had seen an intruder. The phone rang, and I picked it up.”

Onew sat forward suddenly, and Minho saw that their leader’s eyes were blazing. This was intensely important. “Tell me exactly what you heard.”

Minseok gave him a queer look, and it struck Minho then that Minseok did not particularly like Onew. “There was a crackle on the other end – there must have been others in the room. The man said ‘I need to speak to Wu Yifan! It is urgent! Is he there? I must speak to him! At once!’ We tried his bedroom first, and then started banging on the studio door, but there was no answer. The person had hung up by that point.”

“Was the voice…in any way familiar to you?”

Minseok shook his head. “The others had awoken by that point. We forced the door open, and there was the body.”

“I see,” Onew said, picking thoughtfully at a loose strand on his coat. This seemed to only irritate Kim Minseok, as his cheeks puffed further. “Were you and Wu Yifan on close terms?”

“I never spoke with him. I don’t spend my Sundays on the estate,” Minseok said, “Is that all? There is such a backlog of work to be done and I must get to it immediately.”

“Ah, we shan’t keep you, just your fingerprints.” Minseok was much more dutiful than Luhan had been, saying not a word as he pressed his ink-stained fingers onto the paper.

He did, however, have something to say before they left. “You lot are private detectives? I’ve always found them the worst kind of bounder.”

And with that insult, he ushered them out the door. “He looked familiar,” Key said suddenly as they exited, Jonghyun muttering angrily. “But I’m certain I’ve never met him before. But I have painted his face.”

“Age is catching up on you,” Jonghyun commented, ducking to avoid Key’s offended slap.

“On to the doctor,” Onew said brightly, completely ignoring the fact that two of his colleagues were attempting to murder one another. Minho clapped Taemin on the back.

“For us, this is Tuesday,” he said, pushing the perplexed boy towards the doctor’s room. He’d fit in eventually, Minho was sure. He just needed to loosen himself a little.

Zhang Yixing was puttering about the room he shared with Kim Jongin. He was wearing a smock covered in chemical stains, and in his hand were several test tubes, three of which were bubbling. Several herbs, some of which were wrinkled and looked suspiciously like fingers, hung on the wall beside him. A boiling pot behind him appeared to be slowly melting a hole through the table. He had a sweet, slightly foolish face, with messy dark hair and a dimple, and Minho was utterly uncertain of his age, so youthful he appeared. “Oh, don’t mind this, just a little pet project!”

“Are you sure it’s safe for him to be treating Jongin?” Minho whispered to Taemin.

“Is this legal?” Taemin asked in response. 

“I don’t care if it’s legal, look at his Bunsen burner! State of the art, just put on the market this year,” Jonghyun said mournfully. “If Onew would just take out one little loan for me…”

“If you’re quite done weeping salty tears over that, we have business to discuss,” Key reminded them, dragging the trio over to where Onew was.

“Such a dreadful thing,” Yixing continued, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. Onew had taken a seat on one of the beds, and the others followed suit. “Though his body was such a fascinating specimen – you should have seen the state of his liver, it was quite –”

“You