Murder In The Old Castle
IV. Basements
The body floating in the middle of the pond was the old figure of Anggara Laksono. He still wears his sleeping pajamas patterned in blue stripes and covered in blood. A kitchen knife stuck perfectly in the left chest, which may have ripped out the lungs!
Water in the pool tinge of blood red. Yoga, the old castle gardener, tried to lift the body from the pond. He was ready to go into the pool, but suddenly he broke his intention.
“It's best not to touch the body!” screeches Michael Smith.
“You mean we let the body sit all day in the pool?” said Maira.
“Why don't we contact the police alone?” Adrianna Chen added.
Tiara was still nervous, unable to say anything. In the course of his life, it was only this first time that he saw someone being killed so vilely. His lips instantly trembled. His fingers covered part of his face.
“Sorry. But the police station is very far from this castle. Maybe two hours to get there. The phone network also does not work, even the phone signal is also not detected here,” explained Yoga.
Complete is this suffering. The Guman Tiara
The gardener named Yoga was young. The parasites are quite handsome for the size of a gardener, and his body looks athletic. More suitable as an advertising star or soap opera star on television.
“After this, none of you may leave the castle. Because all of you are suspects. It's like the novel I wrote. Killers will not be able to run anywhere,” explained Michael Smith staring one by one the writers who crowded around the pool.
“Now try to think that this corpse does not rot. Don't talk!” hans Christopher, the face of a vampire.
“Someone has an idea?” haggard Michael Smith.
“If in my opinion, we have to contact medical personnel to perform an autopsy or something, to find out the cause of Pak Anggara's death,” Aldo Riyanda suggested.
“Who would do that? And how can we be sure that the one who called the medics was not one of the perpetrators who was about to escape?” ask Michael Smith.
Momentary silence.
The female writers fell silent, trying to calm their respective minds. Seeing a corpse in tragic circumstances is not a common sight that is commonly seen every day. Rania's face was so pale, she almost shivered. It was such a sweet surprise early morning!
“How about we keep Mr Anggara's body underground?” says Yoga.
“Underground space? Is it here?” ask Hans Christopher.
Without waiting for any longer approval, the men desperately lifted Anggara Laksono's body, wrapped in cloth, then lifted together towards the room at the end of the kitchen. Yoga opened a window covered in carpet, into a dim room underground.
Everyone was curious about what was in the basement, so they agreed to follow the search down. The atmosphere of the basement was rather dark, only illuminated by a yellowish-colored dim light bulb. Spooky nuances immediately ambushed. Tiara felt her hair goosebumps. Flammable feeling smothering breathing.
“What room was this once?” ask Adrianna Chen.
Inside, there was a kind of empty rooms with old beds made of rusty iron. There were some unused carpentry tools hanging on his wall. On the ceiling, hanging several large chains and whips were also scattered on the floor. There was even some sort of saw and knives that had rusted.
“As torture chamber ...,” muttered Cornellio Sham.
In his heart, he shuddered as well. He was used to writing about all kinds of horrors. But at this moment he felt the horror in front of his eyes. Never before had it appeared in his mind, there would be this sadistic horror.
“This is terrible ...,” shrewd Tiara. His heartbeat was beating more intensely. Never imagined he was in a room that was amazingly scary.
They put Anggara's body in one of those rooms. A feeling of fear ambushed in the hearts of each of the novel's writers. The stuffiness increasingly feels smothering the nose. The dark room was almost never opened, so the oxygen supply was reduced drastically.
Blahyam!
Suddenly the window closed by itself. The anxiety is becoming.
“Who closed the window?” tiara asked in panic.
“Satan may ...,” replied Cornellio Syam smiling cynically.
“I don't want to joke!” sewot Tiara's.
“I'll be out of this place!” karina Ivanova said with a huff. The Eastern European girl turned towards the top.
“The window is closed. We're stuck here!” peekit Karina's. Her pretty face turned frantic.
“Who the hell closed the window?” aldo Riyanda's.
“Only Helen and Rania are above. Let's go back!” take Michael Smith.
The group of writers banged on the window from below, shouting. The feeling of worry is haunting. If the windows are not opened, they will be trapped in the basement for a long time.
“Raniaa! Open this window!”
“Raniaaaa!”
“Who closed the window?” gusar Cornellio's.
Rania shook her head weakly.
One by one the writers came out of the basement. Bad thoughts still swirl in their brains. Each is haunted by deep anxiety. Never thought that one of the assassins was among them.
“Now what?” ask Cornellio Syam.
“Let's reveal who Anggara Laksono's killer is!” take Michael Smith.
“Who would do that?” tiara Laksmi's.
The most desirable thing at this time is to return to the city, enjoy a cup of latte, while listening to shahdu music as he usually does in his spare time.
“We will find out, who benefited from the death of Anggara Laksono,” explained Michael Smith. Like a pure detective, he paced back and forth while holding his chin.
“Do you think this has anything to do with his wealth or just a grudge, or is there another motive?” ask Aldo Riyanda.
“I don't know either. Even until now, what exactly means Anggara Laksono invites us here, I also do not understand,” said Michael.
“We are now stuck in a confusing puzzle,” Karina added.
“Alright, now let's go back to each other's rooms. Later after lunch, I hope we all gather in the lounge. We will uncover this mystery. Don't let anyone dodge!”
Michael Smith breathed.
“I agree! We'll reveal this killer!” support Aldo Riyanda.
“There are those who disagree?” ask Michael.
“Agree anyway ...,” replied Cornellio Syam.
Most of them agree. The detective investigation will begin after lunch. Michael Smith will be the engine.
“Wait, Michael!” Maira.
“Iya?”
“You said you could all be suspects. So we also have the right to rate you!” said Maira.
“No problem! You can value me anything. Even if your evidence is strong, it could drag me to jail,” Michael replied lightly.
“There should be a third party who can solve this case,” complained Adrianna.
“Whose third party? We can't expect anyone here. We'll handle it ourselves. Anyone who does not agree, it could be the killer Anggara Laksono,” said Michael Smith.
“OK, Gentlemen. Enough discussion, because I'm tired of hearing you guys. I'm gonna lay in the room for a while. See you at lunch!” Maira Susanti hurried to leave them.
His haughty style is so obvious. His steps were wide up the stairs to the top floor.
Maira Susanti's room is next to Tiara's. They ride together, without talking to each other.
“You are lucky to be here,” Maira Susanti said later.
“I assume it's not luck. It's better for me to lie in my own room, than to have to stay in the castle with an assassin,” Tiara replied.
“Who do you think the old man's killer is?
Me?”
“Can be. I don't know. Because anyone can be a suspect.”
“If I were the killer, you would be the one I would kill first ..” cynical Maira Susanti.
He opened the door of his room elegantly. Before entering the room, he stared at Tiara from head to toe.
“You are beautiful, for the size of a cheap novel writer. No wonder the men were staring at you,” rich Maira.
Tiara did not answer. Maira Susanti's words were more towards her disdain. Yes, he is a cheap novelist. He realized that. He tried to dismiss Maira's words, but there was pain in his heart.
He entered the room feeling troubled. Being in this old castle, like a trap he didn't want. The hope is for the killer to be found soon, so that he can live free air soon. This old castle had turned into a kind of prison for him.
***