BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 90's

"Master Marco always stepped in calmly and regularly. Mr. Edgar was a little heavy on the right leg, probably because his left knee was still always sore. Madam Renata her steps were small and light. Little Master always jumped up a bit," he reported with a face met red with pride.

"And Mr. Jacob was a long and heavy step" Hans continued, making Rolan recall Jacob's plan to visit Bjork at Renata's request.

"All right, what else? Whose voice do you hear? You hear the footsteps of the servants, too?" he asked, trying to get rid of questions about Jacob's visit. All he has to think about now is the mystery of Mr. Wallace's death.

"No, Doctor. The servants had monotonous steps trained. That's a voice that," Gerald paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. He scratched his thick eyebrows. "Like 'tuk-tuk-tuk', like that. Doctor understand?"

Rolan opened his mouth, gawking. He shook. "I can't imagine it. All right, jump over that part first. Then, what happened?"

"We heard people laughing" Hans and Gerald replied simultaneously. Their faces looked pale under the dim lights.

"Wallace?" ask Rolan.

The two shook their heads again, together like twins. Even the two are the same. Tensional. Horrified.

"At first, we thought it was the sound of laughter from the pig," Gerald growled, unwilling to question Wallace. "But the sound is different."

"Yes" Hans nodded again. "When he heard the laughter, the fat man was initially pleased. It was like welcoming the guests he had been waiting for. He was screaming, 'You've come!', making us think he thought Mr. Marco was coming. But he's talking about someone else."

Rolan felt his hair bristling. He gulped, a little sorry for choosing the Higgins cottage as a place to talk. But it was indeed only this place that did not dare to be visited by the workers and servants, making it automatically an exclusive place for secret interviews.

For a moment no one spoke. Rolan swept his gaze around, staring at the windows and doors of the cottage left open, making the night air enter, shaking the courage of the three people inside the hut.

There was no food on the table. The three of them just sat face to face, two to one, on a wooden table in the middle of the room. Right where Higgins was found dead. Rolan deliberately does not bring brandy or other foods because they feel that drinks or food will divert the mind, when all they need is a focused memory. Hence, he did not even allow the two workers to smoke. He also did not carry cigarettes as a form of solidarity.

Rolan regretted his decision. The temperature in the room dropped. The air was really cold, and he was also tense to see what the two workers were saying. "Continue," he said, holding back the teeth. The cold snaked up to the bones.

"We feel that whatever is coming, it's definitely not a good thing" Hans continued, squeezing his hands on the table. The eyeballs under those thick eyebrows narrowed, trying to remember. "We heard a knock. We thought the enemy was coming. But the one who came was George."

"At that time, we thought that what we were feeling was only because of tension. Because the pig was rummaging," Gerald continued quietly. He was silent several times when the sound of fireworks interrupted. "But just in case, we ask that George lock the door and not let anyone into the room until Mr. Marco himself arrives."

"George looked confused at that time," Hans nodded, laughing to hide the nervousness. He had already rubbed his hairy arm three times. It's not just Rolan who's cold. "We understand the confusion, but can't explain anything."

"Why?" ask Rolan. "If you guys explain it, George can call Marco, or he can find reinforcements."

Gerald shook his head. "We felt that if we talked to George how we felt, the enemy might run away for fear of being discovered. In our hearts, though we were afraid, we really wanted to catch him, catch whoever the pig meant."

"And you failed" said Rolan without mercy. He even laughed short. "You two fainted. Well, now tell me, did you guys faint before or after the room fell apart?"

"He also tried to extract from us, where usually Mr. Marco put important items; whether in or outside the room," Hans chimed in. "We don't want to answer any questions from him."

Gerald nodded in agreement. "We just kept quiet and looked at him like he was a fool. Well, he's a fool. Then he looked scared. He cried roaring, asking to be saved."

"Solicit rescue? From what?" Rolan is interested.

Now, Gerald and Hans looked at each other, then shook their heads. "We don't know, Doctor. We asked him what he was saying, but he wouldn't answer. He just screamed and repeated the sentence."

"What sentence?"

"Well, strange words," said Gerald, "he said we were wrong, we didn't understand anything, that we had to get him out. That kind of."

"Then?" Rolan noticed his recording device still spinning slowly.

"I just remember that," said Gerald, Hans.

Rolan scratched his chin slowly. "The strange necklace. How important is that necklace, anyway? But what makes me wonder, why aren't you guys doing anything? Even Linda and Anna are still screwed up right now. You guys didn't see anything?"

The two workers shook their heads in unison. Rolan clicked in annoyance, feeling his investigation was deadlocked.

"I don't know if this is useful for doctors or not" Gerald said after a brief silence. "But Hans and I have the same tattoo."

Rolan raised his face in surprise. "Tattoos?"

Hans looked over, his face shocked. "You think it's something to do with it?"

Gerald raised both his shoulders. "Who knows. You interested in seeing him, Doctor?"

"Show me!" Rolan said quickly. He was willing to see the possibility of anything coming from that origin could help him solve the mystery of Wallace's death. "Of course I'm interested! Very interested! Maybe it has something to do with it!"

Gerald put his arm on the table and rolled the sleeve of the shirt up. There's a picture in a strange pattern there. Rolan corrected the location of his glasses to see, but the lights above them twitched and rang strangely, like they were about to die.

The three men in the hut automatically raised their faces. Rolan grabbed his black bag which he placed under the table, then hugged it tightly around his chest.

Fireworks exploded outside.

At the same time, the doors and windows in the Higgins hut were slammed shut.