Discovering the Secrets of a Murderer

Chapter 4

Alexander did not get a proper sleep especially after reading Amelia's case. What made him so compelled to read more was the complexity of how could Amelia managed to kill and dispose her victims alone. With that frail body of hers, it's quite hard to think of it. Though one cannot judge a person's capabilities when they don't know each other very well.

Counting as of now, the victims were identified as five women that were speculated to have had a relationship with her late father. One of the many was Chelsea Philipps-a widow of a wealthy farmer-childless and without fortune. Upon the report, she was found on the property of the estate, kept and buried. It was estimated that the woman had been there for seven years. The others, he cannot stomach where they were found and it has kept him awake until dawn came.

Determined, Alexander went to the Ruccie's early as possible. Thomas received him without complain.

"You are an early bird, Doctor."

"I am," he answered.

Thomas, like yesterday, stood by the window. "Please be gentle to her. She's still young and with a past so dreadful, I hope you would be sensitive towards her situation."

"I cannot promise, Sir. At some point, we would have to know why and how she did it. And with the matter of gentleness, I cannot say there is any of it present on those acts."

Thomas pursed his lips with patience and understanding. "I will leave her on your hands, Doctor."

It was not long until he was permitted to go towards the separate shelter. The guards let him in without a word. And unlike yesterday, he found Amelia already at the receiving area, stitching beside the fire.

She stood up. "Good morning, Doctor."

"Good morning, Miss." He sat adjacent to her and smiled. Amelia watched him take his notes and pencil from his handbag. "Let's start."

The woman merely nodded.

"We will be talking about your life from the very beginning, Miss. From your childhood and all that so we could thread everything to what happens today. Would you be comfortable talking about it?"

"Yes, I understand," Amelia spoke.

"If something bothers you, you have to tell me so we could have some rest. But please also understand that I need to hear everything from you. Every detail is important so don't leave anything behind."

"Yes."

Alexander smiled. "I am happy that you accepted my service, Miss."

Amelia looked back at him. "I hope that I would not regret accepting."

His smile wavered then lowered his eyes to his notes. "It is said that Sir Barkis Vernice-your father-locked you up. May I ask why?" he asked, straight up to the point.

"Ever since my mother died, I was never allowed to go outside. It is my father's strict order and I never do anything as to disobey him."

Fortunately, Amelia was willing to cooperate with him. Alexander was attentive with every little detail she says and when he finds something important, he will write it down in swift yet readable cursive letters.

"And your mother died because of...?"

"Heart problem. She's been suffering from it since she was a young girl."

Amelia saw Alexander's fast scribble of the words: heart problems, then encircling it thrice.

"And at what age are you when your mother died?."

"Young," Amelia answered. "I was seven."

Alexander nodded. He rummaged on his bag to find something he brought for her. Finally found it, he handed it to her. Amelia hesitated on taking it but Alexander seems that he has no plans on lowering down his hands until she takes it.

"What is it, Miss?" he asked like she is a girl just learning about the world.

"A leaf."

"Of what tree specifically?"

Amelia knew what it is. Still, she inhaled its scent then put down her hand upon recognition. "Appletree."

Alexander nodded. "And what does it remind you of?"

Amelia stilled for a moment. Different things remind her of an apple tree. The apple itself, Vernice's orchard, her mother, lunch, and then home. But what does Doctor Fersen would like to hear from her?

"Home," she eventually said.

"And do you miss home, Miss?"

"I do."

"Tell me about it. Your town and all."

Amelia completely disregarded her stitching and stared at Alexander.

"You can trust me, Miss."

This is the first time she will speak of it and hopefully the last.

~•~

Like any other town, Beauville has its hierarchy. Status is of import. Rank speaks who you are and the wealthy and influential rules. There are laws, of course, but only favor those who are on top and neglect those who are more in need.

The town is famous for it possesses sights that can never be seen by others. The most visited is Mystic Falls. Named like that for it does have mysteries behind its beauty.

But it didn't stop people to take sight of it. Despite the shocking stories told by the townspeople-saying that dead people float there from time to time-the falls is breathtaking and it would be a shame not to have a visit.

Other than Mystic Falls, the agriculture of Beauville is in full blast, attracting business-minded people.

This makes Beauville the home of many wealthy and influential families. Houses are built almost next to each other-new and old. Lands owned by different families with barbed fences as the sign of their territory.

Naturally, the richest have acres and acres of land. One of the oldest properties in town is the Vallen Estate. Vernice Family owns it and is highly respected around town. Their ancestor is one of the founders of Beauville. That is why the townspeople always regard their presence.

Amelia can still remember her childhood vividly. Her father would always be out of the house: managing the estate, the workload he carries, and the tenants' everyday complaints.

She was left with the maidservants and her governess. Her day is filled with lessons from theology to ways on becoming a proper lady. She only had a few moments by herself: half an hour after lunch and at night when it is time to sleep.

Amelia, locked up ever since, is unfamiliar with what the outside world is. And though her home gives her comfort, she cannot help but feel caged as well.

The only place she is allowed to roam is the orchard. After every lunch, she goes there. It was divine when the trees are in their season, the flowers were blooming, and the grass greener. It was a flush of scent and life and beauty. For a while, she lays on the grass and witnesses the breathtaking view of the orchard. Leaves graciously dropping, the birds tweeting and the sound of water from afar.

Back when her mother was still alive, they often go to that orchard.

"What do you like most, Amelia, the orchard or the herb garden?" Rebecca asked her one time while they lay under the heat of the sun on a sprawled blanket and with a basket filled with cheese, bread, and some fruits.

"The orchard," she might have said but she stayed silent while her mother conversed with the other.

It is the orchard she likes indeed. The apples, in particular. Sweet and decadent ones. Lush in red and when bitten the juices just burst with such an amazing flavor.

His father was away, as usual. He never stays in the house for long. But when he does, he always stays inside his office, still attending his business.

"Your father is a hard-working man, Amelia. He is doing this for your future," her mother once told her and she never forgot about it.

She understands why her father always has to leave. But what she doesn't understand is him being distant whenever he sees her. She always tries to be on her best behavior. She wills herself not to cross him-that is the last thing she wants to happen. Her father is not very merciful in giving punishment to impose his authority. And even her mother cannot do anything when he is in a fit of rage.

"Let's go to the falls today, Amelia," her mother said one day with a smile.

It has been a long time since they went to the falls and now that her mother spoke about it, she was enthusiastic. She wore her light clothes so it is easy to move with and a hat for her head to have her hair put in place.

Some servants went with them, bringing a basket of food, blanket, and a parasol to shade them from the striking heat above them.

It was a long walk ahead and her mother insisted on going there on foot. And what happened next was the most unexpected and most shocking thing to happen. And she, as a child, did not know what to do.

Her mother had an attack.

It was so sudden and brief that one moment she was just talking to them and smiling, the next she was laying on the ground and unmoving.

Their servants were in panic. Even they don't know what to do.

She was unable to comprehend what was wrong with her mother. She was shocked and scared. She cannot move close to touch even a strand of her mother's hair.

The servants decided to go back. One carried her mother's body while the others assisted her to move.

Her father is not the most expressive. He is distant and aloof but when he learned that his wife died, he was fast to go down the stairs, stumbling down just to see for his own eyes the lifeless body of the woman he has been with for years.

Amelia witnessed how his knees failed to support him. He fell down in the most ungracious manner and then he was silent.

And she counted.

One...

Two...

Three...

"You," he hissed then his bloodshot eyes went directly to her. "You did this."

She backed down, unable to defend herself and confused why he is blaming her.

Barkis grabbed her and pulled her up. Her feet dangled in the air as his grip tightened. She swallowed her shriek but her face shows her pain.

"You're a stubborn, ungrateful child. You did this to her and you still have the guts to show your face to me."

It wasn't her that screamed as she was thrown to the ground. But that shrilling sound only ignited her father's fury. 

That is the reason why she contained her shriek. That is the reason why she does not attempt to make even a single sound while her father held her and stared at her with unfathomable rage.

Because her father would never allow such disobedience and horrifying lack of decorum from his ward.

She was again grabbed. But this time, he carried her by the back of her gown. Her collar tightened around her neck, strangling her.

Her father did not care whether she can breathe or not. Their servants turned a blind eye and forced themselves to ignore her cries.

Barkis took her to her room and with a glare; he closed the door and locked it. Leaving her in tears and the deafening cries ringing on both of her ears.

That was the start of her unending agony. 

She was locked up, helpless and hopeless. Her food was delivered but the servants dare not engage to start a conversation, as well as she. She is not a fool to jeopardize them.

Her father has all the eyes and ears. One mistake and they are out. It's better if she takes all the pain and not the others.

She looked at her reflection. The resemblance is without question.

Her grey eyes.

The shape of her lips.

The contour of her nose.

The arch of her brows.

And the pale skin.

The color on her face was completely gone. Her rosy cheeks and lips washed out from the days of melancholy.

"This is all your fault," she said.

"How was it my fault?" the other said in return.

"You screamed."

"He was hurting you."

"It's not that big of a deal. He always hurts me."

She did not receive any reply.

Heartbroken, she watched from the window how the procession of her mother's burial takes place. Her father did not even let her see her mother for the last time. That was how big his resentment is.

How could he deprive me of the last chance I will see my mother's face?

How could he be so heartless and unloving to the point of locking me up in my room?

How could he sleep at night when his child is mourning alone and sick with grief?

Indeed, she got sick. 

Such high fever that she was unable to move from her bed. The servants saw her state and surely told the master of the house. But no action was done. They still left her alone. Without her father's orders, they cannot do anything. It was as if he wants to let her die.

"Are you well?" the other asked.

She breathed deep. A hot puff of air came out from her mouth. She is shivering yet she is burning up. The windows were open; the cold breeze enters her room. She is already covered with a pile of blankets. And she doesn't really know what to do when her skin is scorching hot yet inside she is shivering cold.

"Can't you see I'm struggling?" she said.

"There's food here. You should eat."

"I will." Suddenly, she was having a hard time opening her eyes. "Later."

She slept the whole night. Her dreams were all about her mother and the comforting smiles she always loves to see.

"Wake up, Amelia. Wake up."

And she did.

Her eyes opened and a bright sunny day welcomed her. She took a minute to sink everything in before she rises from her bed. The near-death experience she just had last night was very evident from the dampness of her pillow and her nightgown.

But now, she is feeling better.

And after that miserable time, a realization hits her. With it, her heart turned to stone. Her body turned numb.

Starting that day, she was an emotionless moving body.

#DTSOAM