CHAPTER-VII

"How beautiful it would be to fly above this city." I said as I gazed out of the window of our coach.

"Yes, Glen. Also if we could see through the roofs of the house. It would tell us all about the people here. You, then, can write a lot about this city and its people." Said Shawn reading the newspaper. "Lamps in the coaches come in handy, doesn't they?"

"What keeps you absorbed in this newspaper? The city is too appealing, it needs attention."

"I have been here before, and upon that, you too have visited this city before haven't you?"

"I can't help it! It's just too beautiful. Even in the night."

"True."

"It has been half an hour since we left, how far is the venue?"

"Not much left. Well you are really missing the Buckingham Palace."

That made my ears stand up, "What?"

"Here, look on your left, see through my window."

"Oh! Heavens, I really was going to miss it. I came here earlier but did not get a chance to pay a visit here."

"Just a bit more on the Birdcage Walk and then just before we cross the river, we will have the Big Ben on our right."

"How many times have you been here?"

"It's my third visit here."

"You must've had a tour."

"Not yet. How about we have one after this case? What do you say?"

"Yes, why not get an amazing vacation here."

The city looked more like a beautiful hallucination that evening. As we spoke, we crossed the Westminster Bridge. Thames was no less than a river in heavens, just so beautiful! How I wished the evening lasted forever with me and Shawn having a tour of the city in our coach.

A couple of clops and the coach left us at a huge mansion. The coachman said that he would park the coach near the mansion and wait at the bar we crossed just round the corner. "Here we are, Glen."

"This place sure is huge." The pavement was lit by hurricane lamps hooked on poles. I said as we crossed the front yard full of rosses and marigolds. The doors were opened for us by two men in tuxedoes. Hallway led us to a big lavish hall with a lot of prosperous men and women chatting. A big chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting the hall, accompanied by four more chandeliers, none of them which an ordinary person would even think of owning.

"Good evening Mr. Carter and Mr. Sanders!" said Constable Rose walking towards us with a glass of wine in his hand.

"Good evening Constable!" said Shawn and shook hands with him, so did I.

"The trip here must've been captivating, wasn't it?"

"It sure was quite an experience."

"I bet it was, um, Mr. Buckler will be joining us soon. You don't mind a wine do you?"

"I think I won't mind one. Do you want one too? Glen?"

"Yeah sure, but I won't need a second."

As we were on it an old man, most probably a butler, spoke from the stairs, "May I have your attention ladies and gentlemen? Here! I am glad to introduce to you, the man of the night, the owner of the GB enterprise! Mr. Gilford Buckler!"

I many times have saw an entrance with a music in the background on television, but it was for the first time that I saw a man dressed in an obviously expensive blue tuxedo, making an entrance with a music in the background. The man was welcomed with claps. As he came down the stairs, people went to him patting his back and shoulder and giving him smiles; his close ones and friends.

"Mr. Carter, he is eager to meet you, as I said earlier. Let's meet him."

"Hmm, let's see what the gentlemen is about." Shawn said putting down the glass.

We went to the gentleman while he was having a talk with, who he seemed to be, his friend. "Mr. Buckler. Good evening! And a very happy birthday."

Mr. Buckler turned around with a smile, he recognised the voice. "Hahaha! Just another year passed for me constable Rose. I…" His eyes fell on Shawn and he stopped for a moment.

"Mr. Carter! Mr. Carter!" he exclaimed "I am much honoured as you are standing in front of my eyes." He turned his head towards his friends and raising his arm towards Shawn he said, "Gentleman! Here we have Mr. Shawn Carter! The person I have been talking the whole time!"

His friends came and shook hands with Shawn and introduced themselves. Shawn introduced me to them and a few, to my shock, had read a book written by me. We exchanged a couple of words. Most of them were already aware of Shawn and his excellence in detection.

"Happy Birthday Mr. Buckler. Where have you returned from in such a haste?" He said while we all sat on chairs around a round table.

"Ohh, from the post office down the road." Mr. Buckler replied with a smile and then looked at Shawn with wide open eyes. "How did you know I went somewhere and have returned in a haste?" As he said all others also gazed at Shawn. He chuckled and lit his cigar, and releasing a smoke he replied, "Ah! Your shoes Mr. Buckler! You have tied a double knot on your right shoe but a single loose knot on the left one. And for the fact that you are returning from somewhere; well there are faded marks of snow on your coat and trousers. Hard to notice because both are black coloured, but one can notice if he has a good eye. It started snowing outside just before you entered the hall, that sums the most of it."

All the gentlemen were looking at Shawn with their jaws on the floor, but I have got used to it. Mr. Buckler pushed his chair back and looked at his shoes. Then looking up to Shawn he said, "How Mr. Carter? How? I do not understand how a you can learn about all this in a couple of minutes." He said and then chuckled looking at his mates.

Shawn, now sitting leaning back with his right leg on his left thigh, replied, "There is absolutely no wonder to it, Mr. Buckler believe me! Now… as of Mr. Pytor Ivanchuk, your friend, he is a writer and is coming here after typing on his typewriter. Am I correct Mr. Ivanchuk?"

"Ye-yes Mr. Carter" Mr. Ivanchuk clears his throat and continues, "How did you know that I am a writer? It is a hobby of mine but only known to a selected few. And the fact that I was on my typewriter just before I came here is perfectly correct! How?" Mr. Ivanchuk finished with an accent inclined towards Russian tongue.

"Your cuff, Mr. Ivanchuk. On the lower side has a stain on it, of dust I believe. It is very common for a typist to have that when he types on the typewriter. The wrist is commonly positioned so that the cuffs often get stained."

"Brilliant Mr. Carter. I did not know a shirt can tell so much about me. I have to confess you have a really good eye." He said with a smile.

"We all see these things but what I do is just notice. There is a difference in seeing things and noticing them." He replied and took a puff.

Mr. Buckler was now sitting with his eyes closed and his fist on his lips which were wide stretched, his head towards the ground and his arms resting on the table.

There was silence on the table. Clearing his throat Mr. Buckler broke the ice, "Mr. Carter, I believe you have heard about the heinous incident that took place at, uhh, the Philips house."

"Yes I have, Mr. Buckler. That is the cause of my presence in this city."

"Oh! How many days have you spent here?"

"We came here yesterday afternoon."

"Have you got any lead on the case yet?"

"I haven't."

From what I know, from being with Shawn for this long time, is that he sometimes talks less and with less interest, but not with ignorance, on the contrary with a lot of focus and attention. This happens on some occasions, and it tells that he wants to notice the person he is speaking to with his eagle-eyes. He told me to notice him how he speaks to different people and on different occasions, it has difference, and even a minute difference in his behaviour tells a lot about his state of mind. And after all this that I know, I couldn't let this slight change in his behaviour let through.

Mr. Buckler now, after exchanging a few more words with Shawn, got asked by one of his friend about the market. That was enough to steadily change the matter of conversation. About an hour passed with talks over lot of matters and a fine dinner.

Constable Rose whispered something in Shawn's ear, to which he nodded, and getting up Constable Rose said, "Excuse me gentlemen, I have to leave. I apologise."

Mr. Buckler asked, "Why, Constable Rose, it's only 9:45." "That is the cause, Mr. Buckler. I have to be in police station, there is a lot of work that is left to be done in there. I wish I had a couple more hours to spend here, but we are awfully busy at our work these days."

"Ah, I understand Constable, have a good night."

"You too Mr. Buckler, and a happy birthday again. Well then gentlemen, good night." Saying this Constable Rose left putting his hat on.

"He sure is very busy nowadays, and for a very good reason. This murder case does not seem like an easy one at all.", said another friend of Mr. Buckler while looking out of the window at the gypsy of Constable Rose.

"Who do you think could do this? This heinous crime, Mr. Carter.", asked Mr. Buckler.

Shawn got keened at this point and answered very cleverly, "Well their servant is dead, Mr. Philips's."

"What? When did that happen?" asked one of Mr. Buckler's friend.

"Oh! Last evening, it did not get highlighted much in the newspaper."

"Did he commit suicide or was murdered? Mr. Carter?" asked Mr. Buckler leaning a bit forward and pulling his eyebrows closer. I noticed an unusual sudden attention in his eyes.

"That, is not something I am sure of. But it is very much a possibility that he committed a suicide.", replied Shawn. It caught my attention, I got a jerk from inside. We both knew that the incident was not a suicide, but a murder. Why would he lie? I neither gave any respond to it nor I showed any obvious movement with my body that may have shown that I was shocked.

The night continued with various talks, more or less related to business mostly. After an hour, Shawn looked at his watch and then looked at me, I understood, we were leaving now. "Uhh, gentlemen, we will take our leave too now. It is pretty late.", said Shawn. Mr. Buckler stood up with Shawn and so did his friends and I. Shawn and I were greeted good night by them and we too wished them before leaving.

After we left the mansion, I asked while walking along Shawn, "Shawn, do you think attending here was not worth it? I mean we had no choice, but it would be rather meaningful to investigate at Mr. Philips's house today, right?"

"Looks like you bored yourself out there."

"Not sure but I felt like sitting idle at some point."

"Hahaha Glen, actually I think it was somehow helpful that we came here."

"How?"

"Mr. Buckler. I do not conclude but he did look a bit too interested in the case, or more on what I know about the case."

"That reminds me! Why did you lie even when you were sure that Mr. Bruce was murdered and did not commit a suicide?"

"Oh, that is for the same reason, Mr. Buckler looked a bit too interested in my knowledge about the case. To be honest, I was shocked that Mr. Buckler knew that Mr. Bruce is dead."

"He knew!? How? How do you know that he knew?" I asked out of surprise.

"Well, I read some of the top most famous newspapers in the city thoroughly while we were in the coach. I noticed that some did not even had a mention of the death of Mr. Bruce, while the ones that had it mentioned, did not have much or any detail, whatsoever. It was not mentioned anywhere that Mr. Bruce was a servant at Philips's house. Moreover, it was written that it is not clear if the incident is a murder or a suicide and that the police was looking into the case. It is quite shocking, but knowing that Mr. Bruce changed his job a month ago does clarifies why it was so."

"Wait, wait, wait. You are telling me that Mr. Bruce was not a servant at House Philips when the family was murdered?"

"Exactly! And for where I got to know about it, it was from his neighbours. They all said that he worked in a steel factory. No one mentioned about his previous job; and I too did not ask about the same for a particular reason. If anyone had informed the press about the person's previous job, they would have surely informed me too. The press must have been satisfied by the little information they got before the printing hours."

"That is why you were so absorbed in the newspapers in the carriage, and also that is why the newspapers did not have detailed description about the case."

"That is what I think too."

"But how did you know that Mr. Buckler knew about the incident?"

"When I mentioned the incident earlier, everyone was shocked, but Mr. Buckler. His face had a question, that how did I got to know about the same? And his next question, when he asked me if I thought that the incident was of a murder or a suicide made it more suspicious. Because we know that the incident was very much made up as if it were a suicide, but of course we knew it was a murder. When I said that I thought that it was a suicide, he leaned back, as if saying, 'Thank God he doesn't know.'."

I would have not taken the observations or assumptions much seriously if the same were made by an ordinary person, but for the fact that Shawn said it, these may even prove to be key stones in solving the case. He said it with his usual bold and serious voice, that made me think that Mr. Buckler is directly related to the crime. I made a serious face and looked down while walking; seeing me doing this, Shawn let a loud laugh out and said, "I see that you are contemplating every incident at the mansion now, right?"

"I am…" I looked up and continued, "My thinking now is just inclined towards the questions that Mr. Buckler asked to you."

"It is suspicious how every dot matches up so neatly, mate. But if you think about it, the questions asked by Mr. Buckler were expected ones, because I am a detective and people always ask me these usual questions, don't they? Upon that, the fact that newspapers said that the police don't know if the incident was a murder or a suicide, it is fair enough for him to ask me my point of view, after all, I am known for these kinds of cases."