Emelie

            I admit, I was quite furious with Mr. Campion. At least, I thought I was. I believe I really was just scared out of my wits, and let it out under the pretense of anger. I was grateful that Mr. Campion wanted to protect me, but I was also angry that he assumed this right, because he was simply my brother’s friend. Bother it all! Men can be so irritable sometimes!

The police arrived and once Mr. Campion spoke to them, Andrew Randings was taken to the station for questioning. The rest of our party was ordered to stay at our house, until further orders. The body was taken away, and all too soon the night was over. The next morning after breakfast, which no one but Tom and Mr. Campion managed to eat, Tom begged me to make up with Mr. Campion.

“I’m sure you’re being very childish about this!” Tom spoke exasperatedly.

“Why shouldn’t I be childish? Isn’t that what Mr. Campion expects of me? He certainly assumes I have no wits about me!”

“Albert,” Tom interrupted me to speak to Mr. Campion, who stood in the door, looking quite amused. “I’m afraid, she’s past me.” And with those words, Tom grabbed me by the arm, pushed it through Mr. Campion’s and shoved us out the door.

“Now, Emelie, be a good girl, and go down with Albert to the station. He’s going down to talk to the constable, and I know you’re interested.” And he actually bolted the door behind us. And before I could utter any sound, Mr. Campion began to walk down the road, with his arm still through mine. I knew I would not be able to get back in the house, because of Tom, and as I had no where else to go, I simply maintained a stony silence.

Mr. Campion chatted on lightly about this and that. Silly things. Such silly things! It annoyed me more so, and I finally burst out, “Really, Mr. Campion, do you have a serious bone in your body?”

He burst into laughter at me, and I withdrew my arm from his, and proceeded to march down the road. I don’t believe I was ever so angry with anyone in my entire life!

Mr. Campion jogged to catch up with me, and pulled me to a stop.

“Now stop acting so huffy. A frown is not as becoming to your face as smile, though it is rather amusing. Rather childish though.”

“Oh, yes, I know how childish you think me!” I protested.

He grew sober, “Emelie, I was only worried about your safety. I thought telling you would make Mr. Randings advance even further. If he saw how much more you withdrew from his company, I thought he’d strike out at any moment. That is why I didn’t tell you. Now come along, I’ve got to get to the police station.”

And with that he put my arm through his again, and we walked to the station with no more conversation.

At the station, Mr. Campion asked the constable to let him talk to Andrew. When he got his permission, he refused to let me in the room with him. He was in there for quarter of an hour, and came back out looking very much troubled and surprised.

“What is it?” I had to ask.

“He didn’t do it.”

“He didn’t do what?”

“He didn’t kill his father.”

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Tom

As soon as Albert and Emelie got back from the station, they broke the news to me that Andrew was not our culprit. It was someone else. Albert looked puzzled, and Emilie simply looked upset. After all, a murderer was still in our midst. But who was it? Albert said he was positive it was one of our guests.

“How do you know for sure it wasn’t Andrew?” I asked, still a bit puzzled.

“When I questioned him, he said he had obtained the scopolamine, merely for the drug use. It’s a cure for motion sickness, and he was supposed to travel later this week on his father’s yacht. He knew the certain gypsy, as simply a drug contact. That is why the gypsies appeared at your house. Not to perform, but to deliver the package. Besides, Andrew’s alibi is sound proof. He did not have a chance to put the poison in his father’s pipe. That is what convinced me entirely. I am ashamed to say, I did not think clearly. He was with someone the entire time while indoors. If you remember, his room adjoins mine, and we had a discussion through our doors while getting dressed for dinner. When I left, he stopped in the hall to talk with his mother, and they came down together.”

Albert ran his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know what to think.”

Emelie pursed her lips in thought, and I was wracking my own brains, trying to find the solution.

“Peter!” she said.

“Yes, that’s what I thought.” Albert said, “But it still doesn’t make sense!”

“Peter?” I asked.

“Peter was the last to appear in the parlor after dinner that night. He claimed to have gone and gotten a cigarette, and then he spent the entire evening roaming the gardens! It has to be him!” Emelie was so sure of herself.

“But?” I turned to Albert.

“But, he has no motive! I thought over all the suspects, and Peter, who has no real alibi, still seems the less likely. He of all people could get nothing out of killing the Colonel.”

Emelie slumped back in her seat. Albert and I continued discussing the case, and so it was that we didn’t notice Emelie when she left.