Murder In The Old Castle
I. An Invitation
Drizzles flushed the winding road that cut through the hills. The night was late, docked to twelve. The silence rested, only the flapping of owls searching for prey that occasionally sounded. A light blue taxi shone in the light, bouncing on the wet asphalt. The speed is not so fast down the hills.
The taxi stopped in front of a large old building resembling a dimly polished castle with dim yellowish lights. A towering iron fence was installed around. The yard is quite spacious, overgrown with several large shade trees adds to the awesomeness of the atmosphere. Alang-alang grows here and there, among unkempt shrubs. At first glance, the building was like uninhabited.
A young, leggy girl came down from the taxi hesitantly. Her shoulder-length hair was neatly tied. Elegant dark grey blouse suit with well-known brand looks matching with matching colored handbag. A large travel-bag clasped in the hand. Her beautiful face was covered in thin make-up that began to fade.
He looked to the right and left. There was no one around that place. Creeping anxiety. Taxis leave alone in the quiet. Once again, he saw a piece of paper in hand, making sure that he had gone to the correct address.
But how can he be sure?
“Hopefully this address is correct ..” gumamya.
Krieeet!
He opened an unlocked iron fence. His creaking sounded creepy, like the screams of creatures from another world. The haunted impression of many horror films he has watched, now experienced itself. In the blink of an eye, he was in a garden area that was surrounded by many large trees no less creepy. The dark still surrounds. Gathering his remaining courage, he continued to step towards the main door made of mahogany gilded with shiny pelur.
Dug-dug-dug!
A circle of iron hung in the middle of the door he knocked three times, waiting for the master of the house to appear. Before long, a slightly wrinkled middle-aged woman opened the door, staring with a strange look. His rare eyebrows barely met in the middle of his forehead.
“Goodnight,” greet the legless lady's guest.
“You...?” the middle-aged woman asked.
“I-i Tiara. Tiara Laksmi,” replied the guest.
“Oh, please come in. Mr. Anggara is waiting for you,” the middle-aged woman opened the door wide.
The female guest named Tiara Laksmi was stunned in the magnificent living room. A large room filled with mysterious ornaments and collections of antiques. Some deer heads were stuck to the wall. A collection of grin-faced Balinese masks show off its sharp teeth, adding to the mystical atmosphere. The dim light is deliberately installed for a more haunted impression. At the end of the room is a mysterious carved mirror. A blood-red carpet spread across the room.
This guest room is connected by a long hallway whose walls hang strange abstract paintings. The end of the hallway ends in a spacious maroon room, complete with a fireplace, a large dining table and medieval chandelier ornaments. For a moment Tiara felt like she had been thrown somewhere in the middle of nowhere a few centuries before.
He hopes not to get lost in the castle of the dracula in Transylvania.
“Tiara?” greet a man of seventy years or more. Her hair is bleached. He wears a suit and a dark blue scarf coiled around his neck. The old man sat at the end of the long table, looking at him fixedly.
Tiara Laksmi nodded, spreading a smile to the few people who had been sitting there. There were six people he did not know before. Three young women like her, and four men who can't be sure of their age . They stared at Tiara Laksmi with a strange look, making the young lady a little awkward.
“Sorry a little late,” says Tiara.
With a hand gesture, the old man invited Tiara to sit down.
Tiara hesitantly sat on an empty chair, next to the young man with a thin mustache. He wears a moss-green knitting sweater. The young man extended his hand to Tiara.
“Cornellio Sham,” said the man gently.
“Tiara Laksmi,” welcome Tiara.
Cornellio Syam? think Tiara.
The name was familiar to his ears. In the world of authorship, the name Cornellio Syam is quite well known as the author of a topnotch horror novel. His works are always best-sellers and in demand by the market. Tiara had not expected to meet face to face with Cornellio Sham in person.
Tiara Laksmi felt a little inferior. He felt as a writer of a teri class novel who wrote a lot of cheap romance stories studded with adult scenes. It's an honor to sit at a table with a famous writer like Cornellio Syam.
“You know him?” cornellio whispered into Tiara's ear.
Tiara shook her head while saying quietly,”I don't know anyone here.”
“He is Michael Smith Artenton,” whispered Cornellio again.
“Michael Smith? The famous detective story writer?” pekik Tiara restrained.
The man called Michael Smith Artenton looked indifferent. It looks like he is getting bored, biting his fingernails. A rather strange behavior for an adult man. As far as Tiara is concerned, Michael Smith is an American national who has long lived in Indonesia, and became a famous criminal writer.
There were at least two famous writers sitting at the same time as him. While the other figures are still neatly stored in a mysterious veil. They sat quietly, but hid the uneasiness. A aura of tension was billowing out within this room.
Tiara still remembered, when a month earlier she had received a deliberate invitation sent by expedition. The invitation came from Anggara Laksono, an old billionaire oil businessman who is famous in the country. The billionaire sent out a complete invitation with a check worth millions of dollars for the cost of a trip to his remote residence.
I don't know what the invitation means, until now Tiara also did not really understand. There was only a short message written in the invitation.
We appreciate you as a writer. You are one of my favorite authors. It's an honor when you're ready to come to fulfill my invitation.
It was quite clear the language of the invitation.
“We are waiting for Adriana Chen,” said Mr Anggara Laksono.
Adriana Chen's? The name was also familiar to Tiara's ears. Writers of romantic novels whose work is also phenomenal, even some have made films. It will certainly be interesting if the author joins the event this mysterious birthday.
So what does everything mean?
He felt surrounded by the writers of high-class novels. Tiara felt awkward, because she was only a cake crumb class writer whose sales turnover of her novels could not be compared with them. Tiara's novels are only on display in small stalls, read in passing. Or even friends hanging out in the toilet!
Thirty minutes later, a tall woman with black hair and narrow eyes arrived in the room. He wears an expensive fur coat and a wide hat. Very elegant.
“I Adrianna Chen,” reply. Mysterious smile on the corner of the lips.
Mr. Anggara Laksono clapped three times, gesturing for the middle-aged maid to serve a late dinner. One by one a sumptuous meal is served, with an appetizing aroma.
Before starting dinner, Anggara Laksono gave a welcome.
“I thank all of you who have attended fulfilling the invitation on my seventy-third birthday. You know, the last few years I've spent reading. You guys are my eight favorite novel writers.” he paused his sentence for a moment.
A girl beside him gave him a glass of water.
“Thank you, Rani.”
Anggara Laksono took a deep breath.
“I invite you here for a vacation to enjoy my vast tea plantation. Have fun, because it's a matter of pride for me to get together with you. I feel lonely because I live here alone. There's only Helen, who takes care of the household, and this is Rania, my personal assistant.”
A beautiful girl who was sitting next to the old man gave her sweet smile.
Everyone present was still enthusiastic in listening. Tiara felt very proud to be in that place. At the very least, his name can be aligned with other writers whose names have been famous. Really, this is a rare opportunity for him. The opportunity to study with senior writers is already reflected in plain sight.
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