When the Serial Killer Next Door Gained Harem System

Chapter 136: The Key

I leaned down again and turned Hatche slightly onto her side, then checked the other side of her body before carefully setting her back down. Nothing new showed up there either, so I stood and looked around the room. The house itself was a mess. The dinner table had been shoved hard enough to leave marks in the floor, one of the chairs had tipped over, and the blood on the boards showed just how much of a struggle there had been. For an old woman, Hatche had fought harder than I would have expected, which only made the whole thing feel more wrong.

"This has to be connected to Jelda’s murder," Sora said with a slow exhale. "Gods, this is too much."

"Who found the body?"

"Her neighbor," she explained. "The neighbor had her keys, apparently, and Hatche had the neighbor’s keys too."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I haven’t spoken to the neighbor yet."

I looked back at the body and frowned. Something about it still bothered me. The blood had already darkened, the smell in the room was heavy, and the stiffness in her body told me she had been dead for a while, not just a short time before we arrived. Maybe a day and a half? That meant something was off, because if I had spoken to Hatche earlier today, then either I was losing my mind or someone had been messing with the timing of all this.

I was definitely not going crazy. At least, not yet.

I had talked to Hatche, and she had told me about Cadence M, the noble who had tried to marry her daughter when Jelda was twelve. So if Hatche was really dead now, then what the hell had I just spoken to? Or was I just... wrong? Fuck, could be both.

I had to talk to the witness. Maybe the neighbor would clear some of this up before my head split in two from trying to keep track of it.

"So," I muttered while staring at the door, "there’s no sign of a forced entry, which means the killer either came in with the key the neighbor had or simply knocked and was let inside."

"Mm." Sora nodded beside me.

"They stepped in and probably closed the door behind them," I continued, thinking it through as I looked around the room. "Then the attack started."

I walked over to the table and noticed a bloodied fingerprint on one of the chairs that had been knocked over during the struggle. I crouched beside it, adjusted the glove on my hand, and then glanced up at Sora before pointing at the chair.

"Hatche didn’t have any wounds on her back," I said. "She didn’t have any other wounds on the front either, aside from the cut to her throat."

"Meaning?"

"The killer probably slashed her throat right away," I said. "She took a few steps back, grabbed the chair for support, and then fell."

I stood and looked to the left, where the table leg also had blood on it. There were a few faint fingerprints there too, though the struggle had left them too messy to make out clearly.

"She likely tried to get back up by holding onto the table," I guessed. "Then the killer caught up with her."

"She’s an old woman, Ace. How would she fight off a grown man?"

"Not sure yet."

Sora let out a slow breath. "This murder makes me think it really is connected to Jelda’s death, like I told you before. Did we miss a third suspect?"

I ignored the question for the moment and turned toward the bedroom. "Where’s the witness?"

"She’s in there," Sora said. "She’s shaken up."

"As one would be," I replied, already heading for the only bedroom in the house. "Let’s hope she’s the killer. That would make this a lot easier for both of us."

Sora gave me a look as I stopped in front of the door.

"That is one way to think about it," she said.

I pushed the bedroom door open and stepped inside. The room was small and plain, with a narrow bed pushed against one wall, a battered wooden dresser near the window, and a faded rug covering part of the floor. The curtains had been left half-open, letting in just enough light to show the dust hanging in the air. A guard stood near the bed with his arms folded while the witness sat on the mattress, hunched forward like she was trying to make herself smaller than she already was.

She was older than Hatche, probably in her eighties, with thin gray hair and a face lined so deeply with age that it almost looked carved. Her hands trembled in her lap, and she kept blinking like she was trying to force the room into focus. With eyesight that weak, I could only imagine how confused she must have been after everything that had happened.

"Hello, ma’am," I said gently. "May I ask a few questions?"

The woman sniffled and nodded. "Y-yes... of course."

"First of all, I’m sorry for your loss," I said, bowing my head slightly. "May Orenthis welcome her with open arms."

"Thank you, lad."

"The day of the murd... the day of the unfortunate event," I corrected myself, then glanced at her carefully. "Did anyone come to you asking for the spare key to Hatche’s house?"

"Yes. A woman."

"You’re sure?"

"My eyesight is bad," she said. "I can barely see what is in front of me unless I’m close to it, but I’m sure it was a woman."

"You heard her voice?"

"Yes. It was a woman."

"Why did you give the key to her?"

"I didn’t... she must’ve found it when I invited her inside..."

"Can you describe her?"

"She was short," the old woman said after a moment. "And almost weak-looking. She couldn’t close my door properly on her way out. You need some muscle to shut it all the way, even I do that much."

That lined up with what we already knew. Maybe the killer really had been a woman after all, and maybe she had been weak enough that Hatche managed to fight back before she died. That at least made sense...

"Anything else you can remember?"

The witness sighed and shook her head. "No, I’m sorry. I can’t even see you properly right now, lad. Just blurriness. My eyesight is bad, gods my witness."

"All right." I nodded. "May I ask why you had Hatche’s house key, Mrs. Lei?"

"We were friends for almost thirty-five years," she said. "Of course we had each other’s keys."

That made sense too, though it also meant she could still be involved somehow, which was something I had to keep in mind. I was used to being the one questioned, so standing there and asking the questions instead felt a little strange, but I tried not to let it show.