Even When Nothing Good Ever Happens
Wake up, Lily!
Boss? Is it morning already...? It's still dark...
No, it's still before dawn.
Then why'd you wake me up? Those spooky automaton dolls in the corridor kept me up, and I'd just fallen asleep.
Mr. Henry asked us to come. Director Stapleton went out!
This is our only chance to inspect the crime scene!
I knew it... You're up to something again. I'll be right out, Boss.
The two girls passed through the automaton-lined corridor and reached the mansion's basement.
I'm sorry to call you here at such a late hour.
My uncle was found in a storage room beneath the mansion.
Let's take a quick look before the director returns.
Aren't you the family head? Why are you so worried about what he thinks?
...Because my uncle's death was too abrupt and untimely.
The basement has always been Director Stapleton's domain, and still is.
Even as the family head, I can't enter the basement without his permission.
Can't you change that using your authority?
It's complicated. Magical families value ability and achievement over bloodline.
And as a magical scholar, I'm barely third-rate.
What kind of storage room is this?
Mostly automaton parts. There are a few other things as well.
Only Director Stapleton knows the full details.
I heard the late Sir Charles Baskerville spearheaded House Baskerville's foray into the automaton-making business.
That's correct. Director Stapleton worked alongside my uncle.
He deserves more credit than anyone for restoring our family to prominence.
Naturally, many would respect his word over that of an inexperienced family head.
Doesn't that bother you?
Even if it did, there's nothing I can do about it. As I said, I lack talent.
In any case, let's hurry.
Henry led the group to a corner of the storage room.
This is where my uncle was found.
Henry showed them a spot on the storage room floor with no traces left behind.
Hmm... I know we're supposed to investigate this, but... there's nothing here.
The body I understand, but couldn't you at least preserve the scene?
Director Stapleton said it was interfering with his research and ordered it cleared away...
Did you at least take any photos?
Director Stapleton wouldn't allow it. He said photographs might expose confidential research...
This just keeps getting worse.
I'm sorry. But I'll tell you anything I can!
Well, can't be helped. What makes you think Charles Baskerville was murdered?
Well, my uncle was found wounded and bleeding.
Details! That doesn't tell us anything!
What sort of details...?
Signs of a struggle could point to a robbery!
No signs of resistance could mean the killer was someone he knew!
This is basic stuff. What condition was he in?
Hmm...
Was the murder weapon left behind? That's the most crucial piece of evidence.
Or how much blood was there at the scene?
Th-there was no weapon... and there was so much blood... Yuck...!
Henry's face went pale.
Mr. Henry? Are you all right?
It's... I'm sorry. Ever since I saw my uncle's body, even just thinking about blood makes me... Hrrk!
Seeing Henry retch, Gwen awkwardly apologized.
O-oh. Sorry about that...
I don't think we're going to get much help from him like this.
After an awkward silence, Henry finally regained his composure. The Professor, who had remained quiet until now, spoke.
Then may I ask just one more question?
Henry wiped his mouth, looking slightly tense.
Yes. Ask away.
It could be you, or anyone at the Baskerville Research Institute.
Do any of you know how to create a chimera?
O-our family is absolutely forbidden from creating chimeras.
Everyone in our family swore never to create another one.
That's how our family narrowly escaped destruction.
The Professor didn't miss the fact that Henry hadn't said no outright.
As Gwen and Lily looked on in surprise, she simply smiled ominously.
That's not an issue as long as no one knows you're doing it, though.
Henry hurriedly tried to explain himself.
Yes... As you said, I do know how.
Any sufficiently skilled magical scholar can create a chimera in the first place.
But only ones about the size of rats or frogs, and they wouldn't survive for long.
Making one obey its master's commands is another matter entirely.
The legendary Hound of the Baskervilles was far bigger than any dog, the size of a wild beast, and could fight for days on end.
What would it take to create something of that caliber?
As I said, even a third-rate magical scholar like me knows the theory.
But the process requires precision beyond anything you could imagine.
Mixing, dosing, extraction... Not a single step can be off by even a second.
And there are hundreds of such steps.
Anyone who succeeded would deserve to be called the magical scholar of the century.
Henry, who had grown increasingly excited, cleared his throat.
Ah, forgive me. I certainly don't approve of the Hound of the Baskervilles.
But it's an astonishing achievement for a magical scholar, so I got carried away...
Please don't misunderstand.
Above all, as the family head, I have no intention of putting my family in danger.
Do you care deeply about your family?
...Our history is shameful, but... yes, I do care.
Knowledge and technology are blameless, and people can atone for their mistakes.
Samuel Baskerville proved that.
Following his example, I also run the Baskerville Clinic free of charge.
Though few patients come to us because people are still wary of the Baskerville name.
I've heard you're involved in other charitable work as well.
Just what I'd expect from the Baker Street Detective Agency. You're well informed.
Yes. I've also been running the Baskerville Orphanage for several years now.
I started it hoping Baskerville would one day be remembered for children's laughter instead of human screams.
You should visit there sometime. The children there are simply wonderful...
Do you like children?
Of course. Because they have the potential to become anything.
Those children gave a third-rate magical scholar like me hope.
Hope that perhaps I could accomplish something too.
I see. Thank you for answering so candidly.
Not at all. I'm only sorry that I invited you here yet haven't been of much help.
I'll go upstairs and keep watch for Director Stapleton's return.
If you have any questions, please feel free to visit me in my study at any time.
After Henry left, Gwen stared at the bare storage room floor.
Hmm. Time for some deductions. First, this basement.
Even Mr. Henry needs that jerk of a director's permission to come down here...
Mr. Henry may have to watch his step around Director Stapleton, but Sir Charles was the former family head. Maybe things were different for him.
Which makes Director Stapleton our prime suspect.
He even refused to preserve the crime scene or let anyone document it...
No, wait. Something about this feels way too obvious.
Yeah. Especially after what the Professor said yesterday.
Call it instinct, but killers don't usually leave clues screaming that they're the killer.
This is usually where the author pulls a narrative trick and throws in a twist.
...Real life isn't a novel, Boss.
For now, I think we should gather statements from everyone involved.
Like what Director Stapleton's relationship with Charles Baskerville was like.
Terrible. They even got into a fight recently.
Ah, knew it! Just as I thought. No way that guy has many friends!
But Lily, your voice sounds a little different.
That wasn't me, Boss.
Huh?
Gwen froze. A pale-skinned girl watched them from between the stacked boxes.
...
Hi there. We met yesterday, remember?
Hi!
Her voice was as frail and lifeless as her expression.
What are you doing down here? Good little girls should be asleep right now.
I was reading when I heard voices, so I came out.
And there's something I wanted to tell you.
Oh? What is it? Want to play with us?
You should leave. This mansion is dangerous.
Now that you've told me it's dangerous, there's no way I can leave.
I used to work at Public Security, teaching bad grown-ups a lesson.
Know any bad grown-ups around here who deserve a beating?
That's not something you should say in front of a child, Boss...
I don't need that...!
Really? From what I can see, this mansion seems to be full of good kids...
And not a single good adult.
Just because someone isn't good doesn't mean they're bad.
Oh. Right. You have a point...
Caught off guard, Gwen stumbled as she changed the subject.
Y-you said you were reading, right? What book were you reading?
The Adventures of Detective H series.
Oh! I like Detective H's stories too.
I've read them over and over again. Do you like the Detective H series?
I like anything I can read.
All I can do here is to read.
Lily's expression darkened.
Don't you want to run around and play like other children, or go out for ice cream?
I played a lot at the orphanage, so I'm fine.
Did you not like playing there?
...Of course I liked it. But I can't go back now.
I read something in Detective H's case records.
It's foolish for a chicken to jump off a cliff just because it has wings and wants to fly.
Oh...
At the mention of Detective H's words, Lily was left speechless.
W-wasn't there anything else? Something about dreams, maybe...
"The dreams you had as a child all seem silly once you grow up"?
That certainly sounds like the detective.
Well, yes. Life is painful precisely because we're alive—
Mr. Rabbit! Stop saying dreary things with no dreams or hope at all!
Also, I heard the news before I even came to this mansion.
About the great detective going missing.
Lily didn't know what to say, while the Professor let out a quiet chuckle.
As the shadow over the girl's face deepened, Gwen spoke.
Yeah. That's true. But don't worry.
Gwen crouched down to meet the girl's eyes.
The world won't end just because a famous detective is gone.
Plenty of good things will happen if you keep living.
Then why has nothing good ever happened to me?
...Not when the carriage fell off the bridge that day, not at the orphanage.
Not here either. Nothing good has ever happened to me.
Gwen winked.
Something good just happened. You met us, didn't you?
...I don't see what's so good about that.
You usually need a little time before you realize something was actually good.
...Pfft.
At Gwen's playful reply, the girl finally laughed for the first time.
Are you sure you're a former inspector and not a con artist?
Hey! I'm Inspector Lestrade, a legend at Public Security!
I used to catch con artists. And I can still teach bad grown-ups a lesson anytime.
Gwen gently patted the girl on the head.
We'll be here for a while... so if you ever want to talk, come find us anytime.
Understood.
Gwen and Lily smiled at the girl's brighter expression.
Then the Professor, who had said nothing, gently stroked the girl's cheek.
The girl seemed wary at first, but didn't pull away from the Professor's touch.
Your skin is rather thin. You'll scar easily, so do be careful.
Yes...
I happen to know many untold stories about Detective H.
Is there anything you'd like to hear?
The girl gave a faint smile.
I'd like that. But you really should go now.
I don't want to see the director get angry when he comes back.
All right. See you later.
As the three were leaving the basement, the girl called out.
Rachel!
...Huh?
That's my name! My mom named me before she died!
That's a nice name. See you later, Rachel.
Boss, that was impressive. You actually got her to open up.
It's nothing special.
There was a time when I thought nothing good ever happened to me either.
But after all those twists and turns, here I am fighting for justice, right?
It seems you had quite the eventful career at Public Security, Inspector Lestrade.
You betcha. But you surprised me too, Professor. I never thought I'd see you patting a kid on the head!
I like children too, despite appearances. But tell me, you two...
Huh?
Did neither of you notice anything about Rachel?
...It'd be stranger if we hadn't noticed anything.
She's clearly been badly abused.
That's not what I meant.
At the Professor's remark, Lily and Gwen looked at each other.
...I don't know.
What did you notice, Professor?
The Professor took a vial of bluish liquid from her bag.
Lily immediately recognized what it was.
That color and smell... That's a magic residue extraction reagent, isn't it?
The Professor dripped reagent onto the hand that had touched Rachel's cheek.
The instant the droplet made contact with the Professor's hand, it billowed into purple smoke.
Lily's eyebrows twitched.
A magic reaction? Don't tell me...
The Professor murmured as she watched the smoke rising from her hand.
Her skin was so thin and pale I could feel the tissue beneath it with my fingertips.
A common sign of biological restoration performed with magic.
Recently enough that residual magic still remains in the skin tissue...