Author's Note: I promise I won't write many notes like this but I just wanted to say that almost every sentence and little detail mentioned will be relevant because it's a murder mystery lol, so not to tell people to pay extra attention but...yeah, do that lol. Anyway hope you enjoy, keep the comments coming! :)

5:22PM.

None of the maids were in the kitchen when Mr Kim showed it to them, but the canapés were, and they were indeed delicious. Irene had six of them before Seulgi gave her a look that advised her to stop for the sake of her stomach and instead of listening she took three more off one of the little plates and balanced them precariously in the palm of her hand as they went back out into the main hall to join the others. They found Sooyoung and Wendy still standing about near the table, drinking from tall champagne glasses.

‘Hey,’ Wendy said, smiling widely again.

‘Hi.’

‘Where did you two get to?’

‘Uh, just upstairs,’ Irene said. ‘To look around.’

‘Cool. Did you find anything?’

‘Not really, no. Well, we found Yeri.’

‘How is she?’

‘What?’

‘I mean, like, how did you find her? Not in a spiritual way or anything.’

‘Rude,’ Seulgi said.

‘Oh. What a shame.’

‘How’s the champagne?’

‘Eh. I’ve had better. But I can’t complain.’

Irene kept her eyes on the room. The maids came and went. Mr Kim disappeared down the hallway atop the stairs and into either his study or his office and then was gone. Mr Jae was nowhere to be seen. Irene turned back to the others. ‘Where did Mr Kim go?’ she said.

‘Dunno. How are the canapés?’

‘Quite good, actually.’

‘Told ya they would be. So, what are you working on?’

‘What?’

‘I mean, investigation-wise. What are you working on? It’s gotta be something interesting, right? That’s what detectives do. Well, private investigators. Trust me, I know.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I write about this stuff. I research it.’

‘Right.’

‘Yes I am. Well?’

‘Well,’ Irene said. ‘It’s actually a lot more boring than you might think. Most of it’s sitting around, filing paperwork, chasing up leads, searching for things. Nothing cool, really.’

‘How is “searching for things” not cool? I wish I could search for things for a living.’

‘It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.’

‘I bet that’s what they all say.’

‘Well, it’s true. What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘I meant what do you do for a living?’

‘Journalism. Did I not tell you that?’

‘Of course,’ Irene said, nodding absently. ‘Sorry.’

‘I mean, the writing’s cool too. Actually, the writing’s where I make most of my money, so I guess you could call me an author, in that sense.’

‘What other sense would there be?’

Wendy thought about this for a moment. She said: ‘I don’t know. Good point. Yeah, I’m an author.’

Irene nodded. She studied Sooyoung beside them for a second, glass in one hand and something small and plastic in the other. ‘What’s that?’ she said.

‘What? Oh, this? It’s my inhaler. I’m asthmatic.’

‘I see.’

‘Is that where you can’t breathe properly?’ Wendy said.

Sooyoung nodded. ‘How do you not know what asthma is?’ she said.

‘I do. But I don’t have asthma, so I dunno how it works. Do you have to, like, puff that on a schedule, or what?’

‘No.’

‘Just when you want to?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like a legal high sort of deal?’

‘Something like that, yeah.’

‘Cool.’

As they babbled Irene watched them. She watched Lisa and Wheein talking on the sofa behind them and Wheein neatly arranging things on the table and she watched the maids coming and going while they prepared dinner and she even watched Seulgi, although only briefly and until Seulgi looked back at her. It was a habit to watch things. Part of the job, even. And there were enough oddballs surrounding her that she could think of nothing better to do than to watch them.

‘Crazy day, huh?’

‘Sorry?’ Irene said.

Wendy only shrugged. ‘I mean the weather. What a crazy day.’

‘Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Guess there’s a storm coming.’

‘Damn right there’s a storm coming. God, I wish I had my laptop on me right now. These are just the perfect conditions to write in. Jokes on me for not bringing it, right? Guess I’m stuck using the Notes app. Again.’

Irene nodded politely in response. She glanced at Seulgi again but Seulgi’s eyes were on her drink, a slight flush to her cheeks that Irene knew all too well. A flush she’d seen many times before, years ago, back when things were simpler. The briefest rosecoloured hint of embarrassment. Seulgi peered down into the bottom of her glass and tipped it back and finished the last of it off with a wince.

‘What time is it?’ Wendy asked. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘Five forty.’

‘Damn. Time flies.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, by the way,’ Sooyoung said. ‘What are you working on, Wendy? I mean, book-wise. What’s your next book going to be?’

‘I was in the process of writing a creepy murder mystery again. The sort of murder mystery that gets really confusing at the end and takes ages to tie up, you know?’

‘Why?’

‘Because then I can sell a sequel to people easier. That’s just good business.’

‘Will people buy it?’

‘Sure. Never underestimate the power of a desperate reader. They’ll do anything to follow their favourite characters. Trust me, I know.’

Sooyoung nodded. She turned to Seulgi, still stood shyly with her empty glass in her hand, and said, ‘So what about you? Seulgi, right?’

‘Yeah. That’s me.’

‘What do you do?’

Seulgi gave a coy sort of shrug and smile. ‘I work in retail by day,’ she said. ‘But I sell artwork on the low. I’m an artist. Sold some pieces here and there. I sold a couple pieces to Mr Kim last year and I guess that’s why he invited me.’

‘How did you come into contact with him?’

‘I had a few pieces put up in a weekend exhibition in Seoul and he told me he found them there.’

‘Do you think there’s any artwork in his collection room upstairs?’ Wendy said.

‘He’s got a collection room?’

‘Huge one, apparently.’

‘Is that where he keeps his priceless collection of Qing pottery?’

‘I dunno. Maybe. I asked him about it earlier and he just kept saying, "Where there’s a will, there’s a way," and kept laughing while refusing to answer. Like he was in on some joke that I didn’t get. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Does that mean anything to you?’

‘Well, I mean, it’s a saying, I guess. I dunno. I mean, the guy is like seventy years old. Maybe he’s just senile.’

‘Maybe we should go check it out.’

‘Are we allowed?’

‘I dunno that either,’ Wendy said. ‘We could always ask, though. No harm in that, is there?’

‘Guess not.’

‘Are you okay? You look distracted by something.’

Seulgi stole a glance at Irene. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. Sorry.’

‘You sure? You want some more whiskey?’

‘No, I’m good. Maybe later.’

‘God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, but I feel like I could drink Andre the Giant under the table. I’ve got this, like, craving for champagne or something. And whiskey, too. Basically any alcohol I can get my hands on. Maybe there’s something to that. I dunno. I wrote this one character in my last book that way, you know? To have a craving for alcohol. Not quite an addiction, but a craving. Maybe there’s something in that, too. Maybe it’s, like…I dunno. Like a premonition in writing or something. Spooky.’

Irene nodded and smiled and Wendy continued to babble. As she did Irene scanned the room. By the time Wendy and Sooyoung had finished talking it was about ten to six and Wheein and Lisa had disappeared upstairs somewhere and even the maids were nowhere to be seen.

‘Irene? Irene?’

She turned to Wendy and smiled. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Spaced out. Did you say something?’

‘I said, what’s your favourite position?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I didn’t actually say that. Just making sure you’re actually paying attention. Glad you are, though. I asked what your favourite genre of book is.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t really read much anymore.’

‘Me neither. Which I suppose is weird, since I write, no?’

‘I don’t read either,’ Sooyoung said, almost as if she were proud of it. ‘I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Most of my time is split between working and sleeping.’

‘Right,’ Irene said, barely paying attention.

‘Yeah, most of my attention goes into the real estate work now.’

‘Cool.’

‘I’m kind of a big deal.’

‘I see.’

‘I’m a really big deal, actually. Not to blow my own trumpet.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I try very hard to stay humble.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I think I’m actually very humble, considering the position I’m in currently.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Why are you here?’ Seulgi said. ‘Business?’

Before Sooyoung had chance to respond Wendy said, ‘Mr Kim’s a primary investor and shareholder in H&H Enterprises, just like Sooyoung here. So they’re business associates.’

‘How do you know that?’ Sooyoung said.

‘I’m a journalist. It’s my job to know. I’m doing a big article on all the pies Mr Kim’s got his fingers in. Turns out it’s a lot of pies. Many pies. That’s why I’m here tonight. Figured I’d ask his opinion on some stuff, get some first-hand quotes for the article, you know? Jot them down in the Notes app. Maybe come up with a catchy title. And the fact he invited me, I suppose. That’s also why I’m here. I’m not, like, an imposter or something. I guess he wanted my help.’

Irene and Seulgi nodded. Irene checked her watch again out of habit.

‘Dinner time yet?’

‘Five fifty-two.’

‘How very precise of you. I like that.’

And as if on cue Mr Kim appeared on the balcony above them alone. He leant over and waved at them and waited for them to turn around and when they did he said, in his most old man voice, ‘Dinner’s on in ten minutes. I just need to finish some things in my study. Can you let the others know, please? Wherever they are.’

‘Sure thing,’ Wendy said, giving a thumbs up. He glanced at her and dropped his smile and turned and wandered back away from the balcony and out of sight.

‘He doesn’t seem to like you,’ Sooyoung said.

‘What?’ Wendy laughed. ‘What gave you that idea?’

‘Don’t know. Just a hunch. Which is weird, because I’ve never had a hunch before. Anyway, anyone know where the bathroom is?’

Wendy pointed along the left-side of the room, three doors down, hidden a slight behind the staircase. ‘Over there,’ she said.

‘Thanks. See you at dinner.’

When she was gone Seulgi glanced at Irene again.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ Wendy said.

‘No,’ said Irene. ‘Not at all.’

‘Are you sure? Because​—​​​​​​’

‘We need to talk something over,’ Seulgi said.

‘Oh. Cool.’

‘We’ll see you at dinner too.’

‘Well. Okay then.’

‘Seulgi,’ said Irene. ‘Wait.’

But she was already halfway up the stairs and she kept on going, all the way to the end of the first-floor hallway and then to her right and down the long hallway again. At the far end was Yeri’s room. She stopped before it and checked the room directly to her right to make sure it was closed and then she turned and motioned for Irene to follow her and she did. It was a little closet, just as Yeri had said it would be, filled with brooms and mops and plastic buckets and lined with shelves of neatly folded bedsheets and towels and smelling of freshly pressed and ironed linen and faintly of washer soap.

‘Seulgi, listen. We can’t—’

‘I just wanna talk,’ Seulgi said, leaning against the shelves at the far end of the closet.

‘In here?’

‘I mean, it’s private, no?’

‘I guess.’

‘I just wanted to say sorry.’

‘For what?’

Seulgi shrugged. She seemed for a moment to be almost too scared to speak, too anxious of what the outcome might be. ‘About everything,’ she said. ‘About all the that happened before. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have said.’

‘Yeah, you did.’

‘We both did. At least I can admit it.’

‘I can admit it too,’ Irene said.

‘Right. We both said some —’

‘Yeah.’

‘And I think that was immature of the both of us and it wasn’t how I wanted things to end and I’m sorry. And I should’ve got in contact with you earlier.’

‘Maybe. Maybe I should’ve done the same.’

‘I just wanted to say—’

She was interrupted by that same dim hum of electricity and the long tubing of light on the ceiling immediately cutting out and leaving them in complete darkness.

‘,’ Seulgi said. ‘I’m guessing that’s the power again.’

‘That would be a good guess.’

‘Don’t you start being all sarcastic with me now.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Have you got your phone?’

Irene fumbled in her pocket and thumbed on her flashlight. The light-up screen read 5:56PM. Seulgi’s face in the dim light there at the other side of the room looked like a floating ghost’s head, all pale and warped and spookylooking. ‘Seriously,’ Seulgi said, ‘what is with this ing house? How can anyone live like this?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s like a house from medieval times or some . Still got maids, still got cooks and groundskeepers, all the way out here in the middle of Knows Where Street, on the corner of Who Cares What Lane. Still got the ing power going out in a storm.’

‘When did you start swearing so much?’

‘When you left me. Funny how things work out. Almost started smoking, too.’

‘I didn’t leave you,’ Irene said. ‘We—’

‘Left each other, yeah yeah. That’s such a conveniently blameless way to say, "I packed my bags and moved out of our apartment and never text you again," isn’t it? God, it’s hot in here. Really hot.’

‘It’s supposed to be.’

‘Well, at least the heating’s working.’

‘You know they didn’t have electricity in medieval times?’

‘What?’

‘You said it felt like a house from medieval times. They didn’t have—’

‘God,’ Seulgi said, ‘what happened to you, Irene? Why are you so boring now?’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘It was a figure of speech, genius. Figured you’d know that better than anyone.’

‘You seem on edge.’

‘On edge? Are you serious right now?’

‘Seulgi.’

‘I forgot how annoying you could be.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘All I wanted was to talk. I wanted to get some off my chest. I thought maybe, I dunno, we could both be mature, functioning adults. We could sort things out. Now would be as good a time as any. But I guess not.’

‘I don’t want to argue with you,’ Irene said.

‘Well you’re doing a pretty bad job of that.’

‘I’m doing a bad job?’

‘Yeah.’

Irene sighed. She was beginning to get a headache and talking to Seulgi made it no easier. ‘I’m going to go back downstairs,’ she said. ‘See if I can figure out a way to get the power working again.’

Seulgi laughed.

‘What?’

‘I forgot you were an electrician. You must’ve forgotten to tell me that in all the time we were together.’

‘I was just—’

‘Why not leave it to the groundskeeper? That’s his job, isn’t it?’

Irene sighed again and rubbed her forehead. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ she said. And before Seulgi could say another word she went on out and left her there in the darkness of the closet to get angry at herself and shout at nobody.

Would Seulgi apologise?

Irene didn’t know. She sat on the sofa by herself rubbing her head and thinking about that while she waited for the power to come on. The light from her phone hurt her eyes and so she put it back in her pocket and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Seulgi was just like she remembered – so full of life and spirit, so easy to get worked up, so passionate about anything and everything, good and bad. Mostly good, occasionally bad. And the bad had been very bad indeed. She remembered the laughs, the cinema dates, their first time at an ice rink together. Then she remembered the dumb arguments and her head hurt again. She opened her eyes and fumbled about blindly in the dark for a bottle on the table. Wheein had left about half’s worth of whiskey at a perfect angle on the table beside an ashtray and two paper mats and a packet of cigarettes and three square whiskey glasses.

Irene tried to pour herself a glass in the dark. She could hear the rain outside and hear people moving about in the house and a violent flare of white lightning erupted sourceless outside the windows like pale phantasmagoria and was lost to the evening again.

‘Jesus,’ she murmured. ‘That’s some storm.’

She sat sipping her whiskey in peace. Seulgi came to her mind again, likely still in the closet, probably still angry. It used to take her a good long time to calm down and that was with gifts of Belgian chocolates and her favourite box wine and a lengthy apology and now with none of those things Irene thought it might take all night. Maybe even a few nights.

Did she want to see Seulgi again? Was she happy? Did she still love Seulgi? She finished the last of her glass and thought about that with more care, slowly going over the details in her head, as if afraid there might be some way to turn things sourer by uncovering them in the wrong manner. Part of her believed she did. Seulgi had been the girl for her, the only one who had stuck by her, who had understood what being a career as a private investigator often entailed. So, maybe. She checked her phone again. The light was unbearable and it made her eyes water and in the top right corner the little notification informed her she had no signal at all. At two minutes past six that same dull whir of electricity came running back through the house and the lights came back on and when she looked around she was still alone there in the hall.

The first person she saw was Sooyoung, coming from the bathroom on the left of the room. She looked about and then at Irene. ‘What the was that?’ she said. ‘Power going out again?’

‘Must have been.’

‘Did you see that lightning or was it just me?’

‘Yeah, I saw it.’

‘Where’s Mr Kim?’ Sooyoung said. As she came over to grab one of the glasses she seemed to be walking rather slowly and the bottom of her skirt was creased and looked to be wet.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I think the faucet’s broken in the bathroom. One minute there’s nothing and then the next it’s just everything. Like a waterfall in your face or something. Scared the out of me. Have you tried it?’

‘No.’

‘Good, don’t. It’s just ridiculous. This whole house is falling apart. And why did I choose to wear ing heels as well? Normally I wear actual shoes for meetings and things, like a normal human being. I don’t know why I decided to wear a dress and heels today. I mean, it’s just dinner. Where is everyone else?’

‘I don’t know. Somewhere.’

Sooyoung nodded. One of the maids they’d seen earlier came out of the kitchen and smiled politely at them. She was wearing a black and white apron and had her black hair tied up and the first thing Irene could think was that she was very pretty. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi,’ said Sooyoung. ‘I don’t think we’ve met.’

She wiped her hands on her apron and offered a handshake and said in a very polite voice, ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Jennie. I’m, uh…I’m a maid here. Well, one of the two maids.’

‘A maid wearing an apron?’

‘Oh, well we work in the kitchen as well.’

Sooyoung nodded. ‘I’m Sooyoung,’ she said. ‘This is Irene.’

‘Nice to meet you both. I’m just going to fetch Mr Kim.’

Irene watched her go, up the stairs and to the right and away from the balcony. ‘She’s pretty,’ she said.

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing. Did I say the quiet bit out loud again?’

‘What?’

‘Ignore me,’ Irene said. ‘Can I ask a question?’

‘Sure. Fire away.’

‘What do—’

Before she could finish she was interrupted by an awful scream. It was loud enough that both of them turned to the balcony. The door at the far end of the hallway on the left opened and Wheein stepped out and peered about to see where it had come from as well. They all looked at each other. By the time they were up the stairs Lisa and Mr Jae were there to see what had happened and then Rosie and the other maid they hadn’t yet been introduced to were following them from the kitchen and Seulgi was there with Jennie right outside Mr Kim’s study and even Yeri had opened her bedroom door to see what was going on. The first thing Irene noticed was that Jennie was crying.

‘Oh my god,’ she wept, hand over like Seulgi. Irene nudged past them to see what was going on and almost wished she hadn’t. What she saw was Mr Kim slumped over his enormous walnut desk with the handle of a knife stuck out of his back like a morbid little flag. Already his grey shirt had flowered with blood and the blood ran all down the back of his leather chair and pooled neatly around him and dripped onto the carpet in a dull orangey bloom.

‘What the hell was that scream?’ Wendy said from behind them. ‘I just went to look at all those neat Qing cups and plates upstairs and I hear this crazy scream and— oh, holy . Holy . What the happened here?’

‘Oh my god,’ Jennie whimpered again.

They all crowded around the door like spectators to a grisly play. Yeri nudged forward beside Irene to see better and said, ‘Is that…is he dead?’

‘Don’t go any closer,’ Irene said.

‘Why? In case he bites me or something?’

Irene turned to her. ‘Are you seriously being sarcastic right now?’

‘Who cares? Is he dead or not?’

Irene stepped forward with great care not to touch or disturb anything. Mr Kim never moved. Already his face had gone wickedly pale and he looked like something better fit for a morgue than a dinner party. The big ornamental clock on his wall read 6:08PM. Irene put two fingers on his neck to find a pulse and turned to the others there in the doorway and said miserably, ‘I’m afraid he’s dead.’

‘Oh my god,’ Jennie said a third time.

‘Jesus,’ Wendy said. ‘What the hell happened to him?’

‘Well,’ said Yeri, ‘I’m guessing probably not suicide.’

Seulgi nudged to the side and glared at her and said, ‘How can you make a joke about your own granduncle?’

‘We’re estranged.’

‘Jesus, you’re not right in the head.’

‘She’s right,’ Irene said.

‘Thank you.’

‘Not about that bit.’

The look on Irene’s face was one that Seulgi didn’t like at all – far too serious and far too professional.

‘Right about what?’ Seulgi asked.

‘This isn’t a suicide.’

‘What?’

‘Well, he’s got a knife in his back. Literally in his back. Which means this man was killed. And that makes this an active crime scene. And that only means one thing.’

‘What?’ Wendy said.

‘Nobody takes one foot outside the door of this house until I say so. It looks like we’ve got a murderer in our midst.’