THE PAINTED MISDEMEANOUR

CHAPTER VII

Mary Lemont is a wanted criminal? 

The thought of comparing the splitting image and her actual corpse crossed my head. Her portrait seemed so lively; nothing like the incriminating description below it. In between the unintelligible writings, one chilling sentence caught my eye..

“Kidnapped and tortured over 50 victims for money—–”

So that’s how she can afford luxury, what a sickening human being. 

But how did she get away with her crimes?

—Oh right, bribery.

We stared at Alexander, and he stared back ashamed.

Mr. Holmes then brushed Alexander aside to flip through the rest of the stack; all of the papers were identical.

“She collected all of her wanted posters, possibly ripping them off walls. Hence, some copies have some tears and tape residues,” Mr. Holmes said, checking each poster.

He then turned to Alexander, who was still staggered, “you knew Mary Lemont, right? But I possibly didn’t know about her crimes until your sister was involved. I suspect that you did it out of revenge?” 

Alexander gulped.

“No, I…can explain..” 

“Explain it well then.”

“Okay okay..”

Alexander pulled out a sapphire chair near the pearlescent table and sat down. Mr. Holmes tossed the ‘WANTED’ posters, allowing them to scatter on the table. We both then sat on the king-sized bed together with Veronica.

Alexander took a deep breath and let it out calmly, “I met Mary a few months ago in our neighbour's open house. We were madly in love, happy with each other’s company, and she’s the dream girl I could have asked for: beautiful, treated me well, and was trustworthy.  However, her rose-tinted glass started to slowly fade when I started to get suspicious of her.”

He paused for a while, “She grew distant, as if she was attempting to hide something from me. She dismissed all of my questions about her whereabouts, which I didn’t really bother too much about since I trusted her. Until one day, when I noticed her entering the password to the golden safe and loading the stack of papers. Of course, when I asked her about it, she laughed and said it was just documents and I shouldn't be concerned.”

“I stupidly fell for her lies and was left curious about what was in the safe that was so precious and valuable. Then, the night before, I came to her house from work at around 11. I tried looking for her around and was about to give up until I heard her voice coming from a distance from a large painting?”

“Naturally, I went to investigate and discovered her secret basement. In horror, I realized her true colours. What's worse, she was holding my sister hostage, tied to a chair with her ring on Mary's finger. Nail polishes and makeup were thrown around the table, and she was holding a bundle of cash."

“I confronted her and demanded our breakup. She begged me to stay and promised me her money. I didn't pay attention because I was busy untying my sister. She then apparently refused to let me go and grew insane. She screamed at the top of her lungs, broke her nail polishes and makeup, and then smashed her head against the mirror till blood poured out. She then scrawled something on the walls with her own blood and smiled maniacally at Veronica and I with dying blue eyes and mascara-soaked tears."

“ ‘you’re going to regret your decision..’ Those were her last words before she slumped to the ground and became motionless. We were stunned by her entire act. There was nothing else we could do but flee this hellhole as soon as possible. Mary had Veronica's ring, but it was stuck on her finger, so she just forced the diamond out."

After a long rundown of Alexander’s story, he took another sad sigh.

“—That’s my truth.”

“Also, the password she typed in was my birthday, I should’ve known how much she loved me, but I still can’t forgive her cruel actions.” 

“So, Mary tried to frame you by fabricating a staged murder?” I asked, trying to collect pieces of Alexander’s story. 

Alexander nodded, already tearing up a little. Veronica then hopped up from the bed and walked to her brother to comfort him.

“Understood,” Mr. Holmes said, getting up and walking to the stack of scattered papers on the table, “I’ll be taking the stack of wanted posters to the station as criminal evidence. If I might add, the text did say ‘WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE.’ So, this might help out with your record.” 

A wave of relief can be heard from Alexander’s breath. 

“However, I might still need to sprinkle in a few counts of trespassing and damage to property to teach you a lesson in life. Come on, Julie, let's go.” 

Alexander's eyes dried up instantly, and he frantically tried to reason with Mr. Holmes just as he was walking out of the room.

I let out a small burst of laughter and followed Mr. Holmes. I waved goodbye to Veronica, and surprisingly enough, she waved back with a slight smile. Before I completely left the room, I reassured Alexander that Mr. Holmes wasn’t really serious. 

The rest of the day was spent dropping the posters at the station, explaining the situation to the officers, leaving them stunned (the look on their faces were comical), and visiting the same Land Park Cafe once more. (Because Mr. Holmes wanted to.)

“Good job, Julie,” Mr. Holmes said with his lips slightly curled upwards, “you were of great help in today’s case.”

He tried to smile, I guess he rarely does it. But at least he tried.

I awkwardly smiled back, “thank you, Mr. Holmes for this opportunity—.”

“Please, no need for formalities, just call me Sherlock.”

Hmm, all of a sudden? Weird, but I’m glad he softened up.

“I wonder how Alexander and Veronica would recover from that?” I asked, sipping my tea. 

“That’s for them to decide. It’s none of our business anymore,” Sherlock replied, smoking his pipe. 

“I know, but I do hope they’ll do well.”

I kept thinking about Veronica, a little girl caught up in a horrible lovesick drama. However, we were able to prove their innocence and point out the true perpetrator in the mix, which was a surprise. 

Nonetheless, I might tell John about this eventful incident and brag about how much Sherlock acknowledged me. But not as much as when John was with him, but I believe I could be on the same level as him, especially as a substitute.

THE END.