Chapter 71

“R-Really? Where did you hear that?”

“The fellow who lives just across the street went to deliver newspapers to the Northern Constabulary and overheard it. Apparently, he was apprehended thanks to a tip from a citizen who recognized him from the article. The man never managed to curb his vices; he was hauled away while playing écarté at a local card club.”

Elwin had braced himself for a protracted manhunt for Dwight, never anticipating that the matter would resolve itself without his intervention. He stood frozen in bewilderment for a moment before forcing his expression into a mask of professional calm.

“Thank you for informing me. You said the Northern Constabulary, correct? I must depart for there immediately.”

“Shall I summon a hired carriage for you, sir?”

“Yes, please.”

Soon after, a carriage pulled up to the inn, and Elwin climbed inside, accompanied by Leon. While Elwin felt buoyed by the news of Dwight’s capture, Leon appeared uncharacteristically hesitant.

Suspecting that the prospect of visiting the constabulary unsettled his companion, Elwin asked with measured caution, “You are not strictly required to accompany me. Perhaps I should enter the constabulary alone?”

At this, Leon’s features hardened. He replied instantly, “Are you suggesting I would permit you to confront that man by yourself? So long as there is breath left in my body, that shall not happen.”

Leon reached into his inner jacket pocket and withdrew a small, black scrap of fabric. Elwin watched in silence, his brow furrowing as he tried to discern the object’s purpose.

“…What sort of disguise is that?”

Without warning, Leon secured the black cloth over one eye and pulled his hat brim lower. In response to Elwin’s query, he offered a faint smile. “Disguise? Hardly. My eye is merely weary. I have spent far too much time gazing upon a dazzling beauty lately, and it has grown quite exhausted.”

Elwin could only wish that Leon possessed the decency to remain silent. Though he was thoroughly dumbfounded, he could not deny that the black eyepatch lent Leon a more feral, dangerous charm than usual. As Elwin adjusted his glasses to inspect him more closely, he found his own eyes beginning to ache in sympathy.

Meanwhile, the carriage arrived at the Northern Constabulary. The structure’s gray-white exterior radiated an oppressive air, but Elwin pushed open the heavy door without hesitation. The staff within must have been familiar with the recent press coverage, for they cast frequent, curious glances his way as he approached the reception desk.

“That is correct. The prisoner has concluded his initial interrogation and has been remanded to the underground holding cells.”

The innkeeper’s intelligence proved accurate. At the realization that he would soon be in a position to recover the family seal and the estate deed from Dwight, Elwin’s heart began to hammer against his ribs.

“Would it be possible for me to visit him? I am here as a representative of the Ravenwell count’s estate. Given that your questioning is complete, you must surely be aware that his crimes are intimately connected to my family.”

Following Elwin’s request, the receptionist conferred briefly with several constables nearby. After an interval of anxious waiting, one of the officers approached him.

“We do not typically grant such requests, but given the circumstances, we shall make a special exception. Follow me.”

Elwin brightened and stepped forward. However, when Leon moved to follow, the constable flinched at the sight of his suspicious, masked appearance. “And who is this gentleman?”

“He is—”

“I am charged with Young Master Elwin’s protection. Dwight is a exceptionally dangerous criminal, and I intend to accompany him.”

While Elwin struggled to find an appropriate introduction for Leon, the man himself offered a swift response, his voice dropped to a forced, gravelly register. The constable swept a lingering, suspicious gaze over Leon before finally motioning for them to proceed toward the holding cells.

They descended a narrow, winding stone staircase into the gloom of the underground floor. The air felt thick and damp, shifting beneath the unstable, sickly yellow flicker of gas lamps. At the end of the corridor, a rusted, iron-barred cell came into view.

“The room is inside. You may speak with him.”

The constable stopped at the threshold. Elwin drew a ragged breath and ventured deeper into the hall. The moment he laid eyes on the man behind the bars, his hands balled into tight fists.

Dwight was truly there.

His face appeared more gaunt and hollow than during his days idling at Elwin’s home, yet the sight of him—neatly dressed and with his platinum-blond hair impeccably groomed—ignited a sudden, violent surge of rage within Elwin. Throughout the long journey to the capital, Elwin had repeatedly imagined confronting Dwight. Being a man of strictly grounded sensibilities, his fantasies had rarely strayed beyond the limits of vengeance, and in none of them had Dwight ever offered a sincere apology.

Still, Elwin had expected his former steward to recoil or, at the very least, respond with flashes of genuine anger. People typically expressed their guilt through such desperate channels. But then, the man spoke.

“S-Sir Elwin!”

Dwight was a creature who defied all rational expectations. Never in his wildest dreams had Elwin imagined the man would look delighted to see him.

Behaving as though Elwin were his sole savior, Dwight lunged for the bars, gripping them with both hands as he began to pour out an impassioned, frantic plea.

“Sir Elwin, surely you see that this cell is absurd? What manner of law allows them to imprison the son of a noble house in such squalor? I am aware of my transgressions, but this treatment is excessively cruel.”

The conditions were, admittedly, wretched. Rotted water streaked the stone walls, and the floor was covered in a layer of mildewed, foul-smelling straw. The way the piles shifted suggested the presence of vermin. Yet, was this truly what Dwight had to say to him? Elwin was rendered so utterly speechless by the man’s audacity that he failed to offer a retort, while Dwight continued his desperate, self-serving appeal.

“For the sake of our former ties, I beg you, Sir Elwin, say a word to them. Tell them that even if I must account for my crimes, I deserve to be kept in a more suitable residence.”

“…Are you speaking to me of sense, Mr. Dwight?”

At Elwin’s icy retort, Dwight flinched, retreating a single step, though his fingers remained hooked into the iron bars as he clung to the man on the other side.

“Th-Then… Ah! If that is the case, would you at least send word to my family? Tell my elder brother, or perhaps my father… No, that does not sound right. Could you instruct the underlings of the Graymont family to send me a substantial sum? The vile bastards at this constabulary refuse to even allow me to dispatch a telegram.”

In that moment, Elwin realized that, contrary to the restraint he had maintained in his imagination, he was perfectly capable of delivering a thorough beating to the man. However, as causing such a disturbance within the constabulary walls was out of the question, Elwin prioritized the more pressing matter.

“Yes. First, you will return what you owe me.”

“What I… owe you?”

“The seal and the estate deed to my home.”

For the first time, Dwight looked genuinely discomfited by Elwin’s demand, offering a nervous scratch to his cheek.

“Save such transparent excuses for the constables. I simply require their return.”

“I… would very much like to do that myself.” Dwight looked even more sheepish as he offered a jarring admission. “They are not currently in my possession.”

“What…?”

Feeling as though the very heavens had collapsed upon him, Elwin turned deathly pale and leaned in, his voice sharpened by desperation.

“What do you mean, they are not with you? Have you already disposed of them? Surely you did not lose them…?”

“Lose them? Of course not. They are vital assets, so I guarded them with the utmost care. Even when I was nearly evicted from the card club for lacking sufficient collateral, I surrendered my gold ornaments rather than touching those documents.”

Dwight spoke with the smug cadence of a man awaiting praise. Elwin’s fist clenched, yet he fought to maintain his composure, forcing the question once more.

“Then where, precisely, are they?”

“Those vicious bastards confiscated them. They claimed the documents were to be used as evidence, or some such nonsense. Those men are treating me like a common criminal…”

“They are treating a criminal like a criminal. Exactly how else did you expect to be treated?”

Unable to endure the farce any longer, Elwin finally raised his voice. His head throbbed, and his vision wavered. If the constabulary had already impounded the items, securing their release would be a Herculean task.

Since Dwight lacked the seal and the deed, Elwin had no further business here. Without a parting word, he turned his back on the cell. Dwight, who had withered under Elwin’s rebuke, startled at the movement and thrust his hand through the gap in the bars.

“Sir Elwin! Where are you going?”

At that moment, Leon, who had been observing the scene in silence, caught Dwight’s wrist and pinned it firmly against the iron bars.

“Now, now. Where exactly do you think you are reaching?”

“Aaagh! You damned bastard, how dare you— Huh? You are…”

Dwight, his wrist bent at an agonizing angle, had been mid-curse when he belatedly recognized Leon, his expression shifting to one of foolish hope. He likely intended to plead for Leon’s intervention, but the moment Leon lifted his hat slightly and fixed him with a frigid stare, Dwight snapped his mouth shut.

Leon’s eyes were indescribably chilling. They communicated a clear message: he would shatter the man’s wrist if he uttered another word. Or rather, they seemed to suggest he already wished to crush it and was merely exercising extreme restraint.

“Nngh, S-Sir Elwin. You promised me earlier, did you not? A gentleman must keep his word.”

Frightened, Dwight turned his eyes back to Elwin, resuming his sticky, desperate clinging. Elwin replied, his tone radiating utter disgust.

“Promise? To what promise do you refer?”

“When I asked you to contact my family, you said you would!”

“I did no such thing.”

Elwin, who had always appeared foolish and soft in Dwight’s estimation, now wore a countenance so cold and resolute that it defied description.

“B-But you said yes earlier…”

“I merely provided a neutral affirmative as a courtesy. Even if I had, in this dire situation, intended to grant your request, Mr. Dwight…”

The following words were ones Elwin had rehearsed in his own mind over the past few days, a silent litany of self-reproach, rendering his delivery sharper than ever.

“The fool who allows himself to be deceived is the only one truly at fault, is he not?”

With that, Elwin turned and strode toward the constable waiting in the distance. Dwight stood dazed for a heartbeat before he began stamping his feet and thrashing against the cell door.

“Wh-What did you say? Stop right there! Aaagh! None of you—not one of you—is a decent human being! Open this door! Open it this instant! Aaaagh!”

Despite his frantic rage, he remained entombed behind the bars, his furious kicks sending only a cloud of filthy straw into the stagnant air.