2 days earlier:

  Some secrets are better to broker unknown than know, even the horrendous ones. This, wasn't a lesson that Mr. Kim Sung was taught. The night was late, the moon was bright, and Kim was sitting in his living room. His eye's were dreamy, almost like he was high on drugs. His posture was relaxed, his breathing was slow.

  The creak of the front door opening sounded like lightning in this quiet night. But Kim seemed to pay no attention to it. Slowly, footsteps approached Kim, one by one, they circled him. On how many there were was unsure; Kim's vision was blurry, but they were all dark figures. Perhaps men with hoods.

  They mumbled something, something that sounds unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time, like a corrupted version of something. When they finished, they each pulled out something shiny from their pockets. The light bounced off the polished knife's, one for each of the men. Then, they rose and stabbed the blade into Kim's torso, one by one. Blood spilled onto the men's clothes. And yet, Kim did not struggle, did not scream, did not cry for help. It was like he didn't care. It was like, his brain wasn't functioning.

  Then, like the cold London wind, they swiftly left without a trace, without a reason, without a word.

  .

  .

  .

  It has been nearly 3 weeks since Grace has last seen Basil. She's tried showing up to the Bakery, but Ms. Anderson always told her the same thing:

  "Basil's been locked in his room. He didn't even let clients in. Not a single one...."

  She could understand. Based on that reaction, it was Basil's first time even holding an actual gun, let alone shooting someone. But she didn't expect it to affect him this much. After all, Basil seemed like the type to shoot at random things when he gets bored.

  The more days that piled up, the more worried Grace became. She was already trying to process the events of their last case, now that Basil seemed to be isolating himself, she's afraid what might happen. Basil might sink deeper into guilt, he might close himself off, he might quit.

  Suddenly, a voice snapped her back. Looking up from her desk, she saw Mr. Virg standing a few meters away from her. Apparently, Virg getting kidnapped wasn't enough for him to quit or retire. He came back just a few days after the event like nothing ever happened. With a sigh, Grace stood and followed. Of course she was happy for Virg, but it still came with annoying factors.

  They entered the office, a new one, a temporary one while Mr. Virg's old office was being rebuilt. Inside, Grace saw an unfamiliar man siting inside. The man looked Asian, around in there mid-30s. His suit was sharp, just by looking it you could tell it costed tons. His hair was combed back, slightly glossy from the gel, but only slight.

  "Grace." Mr. Virg said. "This is Inspector Jiro Masuda. A very capable detective who traveled from Japan."

  "Japan? Why would he come all the way from Japan?" Grace looked at Musada, he seems like quite the gentleman. "Wow, Japanese discipline is no joke." She thought.

  "You must be Avery-san." Musada stood, stretching out his hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet to you."

  Grace shook his hand with a polite smile. She was slightly surprised from how fluent his English was. Not even an ounce of accent. Soon after, then stepped back a bit. "Boss, why am I here again?" She asked.

  "Right. Please, have a seat both of you."

  Taking a seat, Musada began to speak, "recently, Japan has had multiple homicides all connecting to one organization, well, a religious group is more accurate."

  "These homicides often happen at night." He continued, "usually stabbed to death but no signs of struggle. We've been trying to track down this religious group for a while now, and a day ago, we were notified that an eerily similar murder was discovered here in London. So, they sent me to investigate and maybe aid you in your investigations."

  Grace listened intently. A religious group? Multiple homicides? There are so many questions without answers. "What do you know about this." Grace pauses for a moment, "religious group?"

  "Nothing so far." Masuda said, "we know that they have a leader, and that the group likely originated from India. But that's mostly guess work."

  "So in other words, we're working blind here." Grace said with an irritated voice.

  Jiro snapped, "No. This could be a break."

  "I would love to-"

  "GUYS!" Virg yelled, "you two are adults. Act like one." He said.

  "Grace. Have you spoken with Basil yet?"

  The name suddenly made Grace be in high alert. Masuda also raised a brow of curiosity. "Not really." She said, "still radio silent."

  "Well you better find him. Despite how much I dislike the guy." Virg paused, "he saved me and my daughter's life. So I would like him to help on this case."

  "Sir.... I really-"

  "I think that's a wonderful idea." Masuda butted in, "I would like to meet him as well."

  Though irritated, she stood calmly and straighter her suit, "I'll do what I can." She said.

  She couldn't understand how asking Basil to be on a case was some kind of repayment. Maybe Virg thought that Basil would like it, given his.... character. Turning to leave, she heard Masuda say one more thing.

  "Sono fuku, yoku oniai desu ne~"

  .

  .

  .

  The cabbie ride to the bakery was probably one of the most stressful things Grace had ever done. The thought of asking a mentally distraught man to solve another case was a disaster waiting to happen. She sat in the passenger seat, slowly building a script in her head. A script that gave her instructions on how to persuade Basil.

  She was worried. Worried sick. He saved her life, she was so thankful. And yet now he's locked himself in his room like a prisoner. But when they finally arrived, all those feelings melted away.

  It was something back the bakery. She can't put a finger on it. Maybe it's the old vintage wall papers, maybe it's the wonderful smell of freshly based bread. This place is like marketing itself. When Grace saw Ms. Anderson, she gave her a police smile, while also mouthing the words: "is he still up there?". Pressing her lips tightly, the old lady nodded.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Instead of going through the side like she always did, Grace decides to enter through the door that was located behind the counter, which was located to the left of the bakery. Hanging her coat on the hanger near the actual brown door. She walked up the steps, not too bothered by the loud creaking sounds that it sometimes made. Finally, she stood infront of room 221, right at the top of the stairs. Knocking on it, she waited patiently for an answer, and like always for the past few weeks. Silent like the night sky. She tried turning the door knob, Basil usually leaves his door unlocked, still nothing.

  "Basil! I know you're in there!" She shouted desperately. "Can you please just open the door?!"

  No answer, silent.

  "Basil please!" She said, "I need your help. I need you."

  The knocking continued, until finally, the sound of a lock is heard. The soft click sound of the locks unlocking was like music to Grace's ears. The door opened slightly, not fully, but just enough to Grace to see him.

  Basil looked.... Worse than how he did when she first saw him. His hair looked like it was neglected (not that he did his hair anyways), his eye's looked tired, his dress shirt was unbuttoned and wrinkled, and he had dark circles under his eye. In his hands was a half finished book, A Study In Scarlet.

  "My goodness." She said, "you looked like you haven't slept for days!"

  "Ehhhh...." Basil rose a brow, looking at Grace as if she's over exaggerating. "Noooo, I've slept. Slept plenty." He said, "Anyways, if you don't need anything. Than excuse-"

  "NO!" Grace yelled as she stuck her foot in between the door, you are going to let me in. Now."

  "But-"

  "Now." She said in a firm voice.

  Basil didn't even have the option to say yes, because Grace pushed the door open herself and shoved past him. What Grace was, not what she expected. The floor was riddled with candy wrappers, empty cups of what seems like chocolate milk, as well as a few tea cups of tea. The evidence board that he had, was well... so full that Basil seemed to ditch it all together and pin and stick everything else to the wall around it. Based on what she could make out, there were a few newspapers.

  "Mass Murder In Skyland Park"

  "Detective Killed On Scene"

  "Local Bombing. 43 Deaths And A Unknown Doer."

  "New Rising Criminal Organization?"

  These were all from a few years ago. "Are you..."

  "Yes. If you asking about Q, then yes." Basil closed the door gently.

  She watched the man clumsily walk back to his couch, plopping on it like a dead fish before placing the book back in his face. "How have you been feeling?" She said, crouching next to Basil.

  "Fine."

  "No. You don't look like it."

  "Brilliant hypothesis." He said, "but I'm fine."

  Grace stared at him for a few seconds. She can see Basil's growing obsession with Q happening in real time. But process, based on what she could see, increased significantly since the last time she looked. It dawns her to ask, but she must.

  "he... made you do something. Didn't he?" She asked in the calmest voice she could. She see Basil's breathing stop for a moment, the silence was quite loud.

  "No. That would be illogical. The correct phrase is, he manipulated a situation where I had to made a choice."

  "And that's?"

  Basil paused. He thought about telling her, but he knew it would be useless if she knew. Nothing would change, Q wouldn't appear, so he changed. He sat back up, the book falling from his face as he straighter his shirt, "So. Why are you here again?"

  "Basil." She said with a glare, but also with a gaze that was concerned, "Don't try and change the topic."

  "I'm not!" He said, laughing, "I just want to know what you're here for. After all, your clothes tells me you're still on the job. Your hair is tied back, meaning you need to return back, and you clearly walked up those stairs fast, meaning you're not here to just comfort me."

  "As much of a smartass as ever..." she sighed, "I picked up a case. One that I think you may love... if you're in the right state of mind."

  Suddenly, Basil leaped up from the spot, jumping over his coffee table, and putting on his tie, "well, what are we waiting for?" He said, "let's go!."

  "Are you sure? You can rest if-"

  "I know your boss wants me there. And I know that there will be another detective I'll be meeting."

  Grace was stunned, "How? How did you know?" She said.

  "Oh my dear Grace." He said as he put his coat back on, "observations." He said.

  .

  .

  .

  The two of them got to the crime scene quite fast. Despite being two days, the place was still closed down. Most of the results had already been processed; they just need someone to see it. When Basil entered the cozy little apartment, he noticed many things. But the first thing he saw was how peaceful the place was.

  "Ah. You must be House-San." Masuda said from behind.

  Turning around, Basil saw the man he predicted he would meet. Standing between them, Grace stood cautiously. Knowing Basil's personality, this meeting would either end badly or end badly with consequences. "Basil, this is Inspector Jiro Masuda. He's a detective from Japan." She introduced, "Inspector Masuda, this is Basil House, my partner."

  Medusa reached his hands out immediately, giving Basil a wide smile, a genuine one. But Basil's hands remained in his pockets. "You're Japanese, yet you shake hands. Your clothes tells me you've only just landed here for a little over a day, yet your natural instincts were to shake my hands instead of bowing. You speak perfect English despite staying in Japan for most of your life, and you understand English etiquette to near perfection, seeing how you stand." His eyes narrowed, giving Masuda a long, painfully awkward stare.

  Jiro glanced at Grace was an uncomfortable expression, "ok..." he said, "Grace, your partner is quite.... Different."

  "Pleasure to meet you." Basil finally said before turning around.

  The apartment seemed like a standard 2-bedroom. A kitchen that smells like spices and bread. A living room that had a dark red rug, as well as cotton couches. A TV the size of a box, a few lights in the corners, and a few bookshelves near the TV. Bathrooms and Bedrooms were deeper in the home, but Basil didn't bother checking. What was important was the bloody wooden chair that was placed in the middle of the living room, in front of the TV, Beside it was a cup that seemed to have fallen onto the rug, and dried stains near it.

  "This place is nearly untouched, yes?" Basil asked.

  "Yes," Masuda said.

  Grace added, "No one touched anything besides the forensics team, who took back a few samples."

  Basil stood there for a few moments before crouching down at the chair, "Anything on the victim?"

  "Victim's name is Kim Sung. Male. Around 35-40 years old. From the stab wounds, it seemed like there were at least 5 people present." Grace said as she moved towards Basil.

  "Truly unfortunate," Masuda said, "However, we've seen these kinds of murders back in Japan recently, and we suspected that those murders may have been motivated by religious motives. I think this murder is connected due to the similarities."

  "Hmmm." Basil then moved towards what seems like a covered up alter. Removing the white cloth, he saw a wooden statue of Vishnu, a few incense near by, as well as a few small platters with some scraps of food on them.

  "Hmm. Interesting." Basil said as he stood back up. "The victim seems to be Hindu. The spices in his kitchen and the design of this rug mean he's an Indian man, or at least loves Indian culture. The man is well educated and is interested in history as well as religious studies, and also went to university, studying sociology as well as Law. However, he lives a rather poor lifestyle, which means he was likely rejected from jobs."

  Masuda's face screamed with confusion, "How did he-, is this normal?" He said.

  "Yeah. Every day thing."

  The two of them shared glances while watching Basil walk around the living room like his own. Especially Masuda. "Tell me." Basil said suddenly, "was there any signs of restraint on Kim? Any rope burns? Zip tie marks?"

  "Nope." Grace stated, "There wasn't anything. It was like the man just sat there and took it."

  "Any thought?" Basil asked, "It's quite odd that a man would just sit still while being stabbed. Even the toughest men would at least scream."

  "Well." Masuda said, "Perhaps he knew about his death? Maybe he just accepted fate and sat there?"

  "Not likely." Basil pointed at the kitchen, "There's a half-eaten sandwich on the counter, as well as a few half-finished sofa cans lying around. These are signs of a person who was living their everyday life. Most importantly, the entrance has child slippers, and the shelves have a few children's books on it. Meaning...." Bask pauses.

  "What?" Grace said, leaning forward slightly.

  "The child. THERES A CHILD." Basil cried. "Was there a child here when you guys came?"

  The two looked at each other in confusion, "No, there wasn't." Masuda said. Grace nodded in agreement.

  "We didn't get any report of a child."

  Shuffling around, Basil's head flicked from one side to another, trying to find any clues of this mysterious child. "If there was a child here, that should mean they're still here, or at least close," Grace stated, pulling out her phone to order a search.

  "Alright, Masuda, you lead the search for this child." Grace said in a very, very commanding, urgent voice, "Basil and I will take care of the murder."

  "Got it."