Eldritch Horror Theatre

"This isn't the way to the Police Department, is it?"

A few minutes later, Fu Qian asked thoughtfully from the passenger seat of the car Sheriff Jones was driving.

The small town wasn't very large. The time since yesterday had been plenty for him to carve its overall layout into his mind, especially the location of its law enforcement headquarters.

And Fu Qian was absolutely certain this was not the direction to the Police Department.

"Now that there's another missing person, shouldn't you head back to organize more manpower for a grid search?"

"A grid search would certainly seem like the most logical approach."

Jones finally reacted, though only with a cold scoff.

"But my experience tells me that since we turned up nothing just now, doubling our manpower most likely won't make a difference."

"I prefer a less logical, but potentially more effective method."

The sheriff truly wasn't an ordinary man. Fu Qian asked with genuine interest.

"All violence has a motive. You start with the people who have a motive, and work your way down until you prove they're all innocent."

"You could have just called it the process of elimination. Though in many cases, it really is effective."

Fu Qian wasn't too surprised by the answer.

"Considering this suspicious character right here is already in your custody, are you heading out to find—Harold?"

Heh.

Jones grunted, not bothering to deny it.

"Faking an accident scene while actually plotting to murder your wife... forgive my bluntness, but while it's a common trope, pulling it off requires a certain level of competence."

Fu Qian nodded.

"I'm beginning to seriously doubt whether you're actually a student."

Jones cast a deep look at Fu Qian.

"You sound more like a professional criminal consultant."

Clearly, the sheriff had overheard Fu Qian's earlier conversation with Fran where he claimed to be a consultant.

"In fact, I questioned Harold's neighbors right away and confirmed that yesterday morning, Mrs. Harold did indeed drive out alone."

"Oh? Then why the sudden suspicion?"

"It complicates things significantly, but I have to consider the possibility of a murder-for-hire."

"I agree with your assessment. Murdering someone, hiding the body, faking the crime scene, and doing it all without leaving a single trace for me to find requires a considerable level of skill. It's hard to believe a middle-aged man prone to occasional emotional outbursts could pull that off."

"But regardless, for a highly professional individual to pull off those kinds of actions, they still need a motive."

"Understood. If they were paid for the job, the husband is undeniably the prime suspect once again."

Fu Qian nodded, expressing his understanding of the sheriff's logic.

...

Not long after, Jones pulled the car to a stop in front of an ordinary-looking yard.

From their vantage point, they could see the adjacent garage was wide open, revealing an empty space inside.

Jones's expression grew visibly grim as he threw his door open and stepped out.

After knocking twice and receiving no answer, he didn't even wait for Fu Qian to speak before kicking the front door open.

The interior had a standard layout, though it looked somewhat messy. After quickly sweeping the premises, Jones returned to the living room with an icy expression.

Bad news: there was no one in the house.

Good news: there were no corpses in the house, either.

Several other areas were a complete wreck, looking as though someone had thoroughly tossed the place.

"So, going by common tropes, is this the part where a dispute over the final payment ends with the killer murdering their employer in a fit of rage?"

Fu Qian stood to the side, taking Sheriff Jones's logic to its natural conclusion.

...

"There's just one problem with that. Murder is one thing, but does our hitman have some sort of peculiar fetish? Did he really have to take the body with him?"

"Don't tell me he plans on burying the couple together?"

Fu Qian continued over Jones's silence.

But the next moment, the sheriff seemed to remember something, abruptly turning on his heel and walking out the door.

Fu Qian followed him outside and watched Jones march straight over to a neighbor's door a few dozen meters away.

The earlier commotion from the police cruiser had clearly drawn the neighbor's attention. Before Jones could even knock, a man stepped out to meet him.

"Did you notice when Harold left?"

Jones didn't waste time on pleasantries, directly questioning the burly man.

"Just before noon."

The neighbor's tone was absolute, and he sounded vaguely aware of the tragedy surrounding the couple.

"After I got back this morning, I actually went over to check on Harold. He stayed by himself for a while after that, then drove off right around noon."

"Drove off? Are you certain it was Harold?"

Jones's face was completely impassive.

"I think so. I was inside my house, and his face was mostly hidden under a hat. I only caught a glimpse, but judging by his build, it should have been him."

The neighbor was clearly hedging his bets.

"He was wearing a hat while driving?"

Jones furrowed his brow.

"It is a bit strange. Maybe it's some new trend?"

As he spoke, the neighbor suddenly seemed to recall something.

"Come to think of it, his wife was dressed the exact same way when she left yesterday."

Harold's missing wife had also left the house wearing a hat?

Jones's eyes instantly turned razor-sharp.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Of course."

The neighbor's tone was unwavering.

"What's going on? Did you find his wife?"

...

Returning from the impromptu investigation, Sheriff Jones's face was as dark as a thundercloud.

"You and Fran stayed behind to clean up yesterday?"

After searching Harold's house a second time and finding absolutely nothing, Jones simply signaled for Fu Qian to get into the car. Only after they had driven quite a distance did he suddenly break the silence.

Uh-huh.

Even with his name cleared of suspicion, Fu Qian didn't show much reaction.

After they finished talking this morning and returned to the house, the sheriff had possessed ample opportunity to verify that fact.

"It seems things have passed the point of no return on the road to melodrama!"

A moment later, he blinked.

...

"The person who drove off yesterday wasn't Mrs. Harold, but someone else entirely—someone who just happened to be wearing her clothes and her hat."

Whether spurred by Fu Qian's remark or not, Jones began speaking in a low, grim tone.

"By then, Mrs. Harold had likely already met a terrible end."

"After they finally took her up to The Mountain, they disguised the car to look like a robbery, then secretly disposed of the body."

"Unfortunately, the three people out running errands accidentally stumbled across the scene and were threatened."

"That bastard is clearly deeply intimidating. He terrified them so completely that it broke them emotionally, which is exactly why they've refused to breathe a word about what happened."

"And then, the very next day, Harold met the exact same fate as his wife."

"That sounds very plausible."

Fu Qian casually agreed.

"But how do you explain Jessica's accident?"

"Did the killer lack faith in Ray and the others' ability to keep a secret, deciding instead that dead men tell no tales?"

Even Jones sounded a bit unsure of his own theory.

Still, aside from that, he couldn't come up with a more logical explanation.

"By your logic, it seems we ought to head back to the house to check on them."

Instead of questioning him, Fu Qian pondered for a moment before offering a reminder.

"After all, the remaining two witnesses are sitting in your house right now."

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