The situation had quickly gone from okay, to bad, to terrible during the past two weeks. I had spent the last hour in the gym, staring at the punching bag, trying to will myself to work out and burn off my stress, but I just couldn’t do it. 

I trailed my way to my room and stood in the corridor in front of the door with my name on a plaque that had been drilled into the white painted wood. My hand rested on the handle, but it was as though I was stuck there; I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to go in and lay down. But I didn’t want to work out either. I just stood there, unmoving, lost in thought for a few minutes. I returned to my senses when I felt a sudden chill of eyes watching me.

I turned my head slowly, so the person watching me would barely be able to notice, scanning the hallway through the long strands of my hair. There was no one there. I huffed, and turned back to the staircase. I couldn’t stand this place. 

I headed to the kitchen, walking past the dining room, instead of taking the shortcut through it, and heading further down the hallway to the second door to the kitchen. 

But as I passed by the crime scene, Durchdenwald called after me. He was working on the bodies with Jim, looking for evidence. “Hey, Strawb,” he repeated, standing up and beckoning me over with his bloody, gloved hand. 

“Could you do us a favour? Could you call people and interview them in the kitchen?”

“What?” I said, “That’s his job, though,” I pointed at Jim.

“Uh,” he stuttered, “I wrote down all the questions for you and all you have to do is write down each person’s answer,” There was a notebook on the table that the nervous policeman gestured to. 

“Please, Strawb,” Durchdenwald smiled at me. 

I might as well.

I grabbed the notebook and walked to the side door to the kitchen, opening the door quickly, before closing it behind me, so the stink of blood wouldn’t enter the cooking area. 

Basil was standing at the counter making a milkshake with ice cream, milk and other sweet items. 

“Hey, Basil,” he looked up at me, and offered me the glass that he’d just finished. I took it gratefully. “When you’re done there, would you mind if I interview you?” 

He nodded, and sat down at the breakfast bar with another glass of milkshake. I took a sip of my own. It was really good. I flipped open the notebook, while leaning my back onto the fridge. Now, we were facing each other, but he’d be too far away to see what I was writing. I placed the glass on the counter beside me and read out the first question, making sure to observe his body language. 

I’d finished Basil, Gila, the Lee-Park siblings and had somehow managed to drag the Flowerhest couple to the kitchen for their interviews. I had succesfully acquired a large wad of notes, hopefully good enough for the investigation.

I dropped the book onto one of the dining table with a loud thwack.

The two men hadn’t heard me come in, busy examining something in the opposite corner of the room, crouched down together, and they both jumped at the sound. 

“Oh, thanks,” Jim said, pulling of his stained gloves and dropping them in a ziploc bag, before walking round to me so he could pick up the book.. 

“You’re welcome,” I replied as I turned away from them. I was sick of talking to other human beings and was craving a nap until dinner time. 

I heard Durchdenwald calling after me as I walked out the kitchen, telling me to come back so Jim can interrogate me, but I didn’t turn back. 

The door to my room creaked open as I entered, and I made sure it was locked before I moved to my bed. I laid down, staring up at the plain white ceiling, but my gut was telling me to look inside my bedside table and take a peek inside the false bottom in the bottom drawer. I did so, rolling onto my side so I could wrench open the drawer and feel my way to the hidden area. I looked inside, and an empty plain wood panel met my eyes. My gun was gone.