Chapter 4 - Cassius Blackwood

The first light of dawn illuminated the University of Albrighton, and a knot of curious students was drawn to the police-guarded building on campus. Detective Cassius Blackwood, a figure of authority in his long tan coat and black gloves, walked onto the scene. At his side was Officer Alexia Stroupe, her hand steady on the pen poised over her notepad.

"Professor Ernst Bondar," she started, her voice crisp and factual, "57, brown hair with a touch of grey, brown eyes. University veteran of 23 years. Esteemed neurologist and psychoanalyst. Only surviving family."

Inside the room, Cassius absorbed every detail. A library of academic wisdom towered on the shelves around them, end of the room was the silent figure of Professor Bondar on the chair, his eyes frozen in a vacant stare at the ceiling. Cassius drifted toward the desk, mentally cataloging each item and its position, including the oddly placed guest chair.

He swept back the curtain, peeked behind the desk, and then restored it to its original state. His voice was rich with authority as he announced, "No visible injuries suggest our professor's demise."

Alexia paused in her scribbling. "Could be poison, then. Something in his tea?" she posited, eyeing the solitary mug on the desk.

"Unlikely," Cassius replied confidently, "the placement of that mug suggests it wasn't in use."

A surprised "How?" escaped from Alexia.

"Our learned professor, you see," Cassius expounded with a modicum of flair, "preferred his right hand, as suggested by the pen's position. The mug, however, is to his left, handle turned away — an innocent placement, suggesting no ill intent."

Alexia offered a nod of respect. "You certainly have an eye for detail."

Cassius's fleeting smile was replaced by thoughtful scrutiny of the guest chair. "The haste in which this chair was vacated suggests its occupant was alarmed, distressed even."

Closer inspection of the professor revealed something clenched in his right hand. He opened it gently, letting a piece of parchment fall to the floor. The burnt edges stood out starkly against the white of the surrounding papers.

The parchment bore a strange symbol.

"Curious..." murmured Cassius, his mind spiraling into a whirl of deductions. He broke protocol, tucking the parchment into his pocket as Alexia went off to interview witnesses. Cassius was left alone with his tumultuous thoughts.

He meandered through the university's hallowed halls, the echoes of shuffling feet, hushed conversations, and the rhythmic clatter of typewriters filling the space. The scent of ink, paper, and wax lent a scholarly aura to the air.

His wanderings led him to the university's gates. Beyond them, life moved as it always did — horses trotting on cobblestone, the pedestrian chatter of daily routines. He almost hailed a passing carriage before thinking better of it and returning to meet Alexia.

He found her deep in conversation with a student. Rather than interrupt, he waited.

Alexia was professional and assertive, questioning the student about the previous night. The student, a sleepy-eyed, nervous creature, shared her account of an oddly behaving figure she'd spotted from the library window. The details were vague but potentially useful.

Once the student departed, Cassius rejoined Alexia.

"Any leads?" he inquired.

"Vague descriptions, could be anyone," Alexia admitted.

Cassius, sensing the perpetrator had fled Albrighton, decided they should shift locations. "They would have taken a carriage last night," he reasoned.

Alexia challenged his confidence. "What makes you so sure?"

"Just a hunch," Cassius admitted, scratching his chin. "Unless they're mad or a fool, they wouldn't linger. We'll leave an officer here just in case."

With that, they ventured out to follow the elusive trail of the suspect.