Red

Chapter Three: Little Briar Rose

Unlike the Charming Estate, the Perrault Estate was immaculate. The roses were perfectly in order, the grass was cut evenly, and even the dogs roaming about were well behaved. Birds sang in the trees a song far too sweet for a murder scene.

I yanked on Charming's arm. "Rosie's dead. And since you raped her last night, we're inclined to think you did it," I explained as I dragged him up to the front door. 

Charming spluttered, trying to find an explanation before I knocked on the door. 

Gran answered. "Red, you're here. Come on in." He gave a sideways glance to Charming. "Is that... Prince? Prince Charming?" 

I nodded. "He's also Rosamund's rapist." 

Gran's eyes widened. "Ginger, please restrain Mr. Charming. He's our lead suspect for this case." 

While Ginger cuffed Charming, Gran lead me up the spiral staircase to Rosie's room. "M.E.'s in there right now," he explained. 

Rosie's room was like a three-year-old girl's, ruffled and pink and adorned with jewels. I could recall how the room looked when Rosie fell into the coma that first brought her into the spotlight- it hadn't changed a bit. 

I wrinkled my nose. "Almonds. It smells like almonds." 

"Well, yeah," Gran agreed, "she had an almond-fluff pastry." 

"That, I believe, was to disguise the real cause of death- cyanide poisoning." The small M.E., a dwarf by the name of Unsam, stated matter-of-factly. "I also found a fair bit of foreign DNA that may allow us to identify our rapist." 

"See if it matches Mr. Charming. He's downstairs," Gran instructed. 

Unsam nodded. "It's also worth mentioning, I believe, that I don't think her rapist was her murderer." 

Gran tilted his head. "Why?" 

"Well, the cyanide was administered recently, and we know Mr. Charming was... preoccupied. As well, while Mr. Charming isn't an angel, he lacks the backbone and... shall we say... knowledge, to commit such a crime." Unsam left without further words. 

Gran turned to me, probably because I'd been silent through all of this. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

I took a breath as I looked into the distance, remembering. "You know who else was murdered by cyanide poisoning?" I asked.

Gran waited for me to continue.

"Snow White. Snow White was, with that apple, remember?"

"Red, that was two years ago," Gran said softly. "You can't possibly think they're connected."

I shrugged. "But it's possible, isn't it?" [2 000 WORD MARK]

"I guess." Gran seemed unconvinced. "But I think Charming probably realized he was about to get caught and paid off some maid to slip a little poison into Rosie's breakfast. Unsam is smart, sure, but all his evidence is just based off of assumptions."

"But even without Rosie being alive, we can still prosecute Charming," I pressed. "So Charming, if he did it, was just wasting his time."

Gran turned away and began examining the crime scene. "Well, we all know he's not the brightest." 

Rosamund was unnaturally pale. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow like she'd fallen backwards, and her eyes were wide open. I shuddered. Dead bodies had always scared me. 

I turned away and glanced at the tray across Rosie's legs. A half-bitten almond-fluff pastry sat placidly on a plate, along with a small glass of whole milk and a tiny rose in an even tinier vase. I poked the plate and it slid sideways, revealing a creme-coloured parchment envelope with a blood red wax seal. I slid on a pair of gloves. 

"Gran? Come look at this." 

Gran came up behind me. "What's that?" 

"An envelope," I stated. I picked it up and shook it. "It's rather small... and look at these lines. It's home-made." I flipped it over. ROSAMUND, it read, in elegant script. 

I was just about to open it when Gran grabbed my hand. Heat rushed through my cheeks. "What?" I asked, turning to him. 

"You don't know what's inside. What if it's a bomb?" 

I snorted. "It's not a bomb." I slid my nail underneath the seal, ignoring Gran's protesting, and smiled when a small piece of fine paper fell out. 

"What's it say?" Gran asked, clamouring for a better look. 

I stared at it blankly, my hands shaking. I stared at it until it was burned permanently in my memory. "It's from our killer." 

"How do you know?" Gran took it from her. 

"Because it says Night-night, Sleeping Beauty." 

Gran snatched it from me and stared. "And it's signed with a red lipstick print." 

Blood red, I thought. 

Ginger stumbled into the room. "Gran, you don't want to miss this. Our caged bird has started to sing." 

Gran followed after Ginger quickly, and the two were nearly halfway down the stairs before I left Rosie's doorway. 

Downstairs, Charming looked crazed with his dark blond hair flopping in his wide eyes, restrained to a chair by two pairs of handcuffs. 

"It's like I told the other dude; some random number called me last night and sent me the roofies and told me to- you know- for $10 000. I mean, I had to. My parents are cutting me off of the Charming inheritance. I'm broke, man," Charming whined. 

"Yeah, not important," I snapped. "You're telling me someone paid you to rape her?" 

He winced. "I wouldn't say-" 

"Well, what would you say?" 

"Doesn't matter," Ginger said briskly. "We found evidence of the transfer in his account." 

"And how did the cyanide get in her food?" Gran asked. 

"Uh, cook says she let a new maid take the food up to Rosie. Doesn't remember what she looked like, only that she had black hair," Ginger replied. 

Gran tilted his head. "Okay. Where are the cameras?" 

"We already checked them," Pinocchio said, coming up from behind. "We found a girl with black hair, but she's always facing away from the camera. We estimate she's tall, about 5'10. But that's all we got." 

"She knew were the cameras were," I mused. "She's been here before." 

"Well, yeah," Ginger said, "she works here." 

"No, she doesn't," I argued. "She's new? That's not true, she probably got a uniform and snuck in. A place this big has tons of staff, probably no one noticed her at all. And she only had to be here for a couple hours, tops. Even if she was legitimately hired, to avoid every camera? That takes some time to memorize." 

Gran nodded. "Red's right. We should get a list of everyone who's been in and out of here for the past week." 

"Good plan. And if that doesn't turn up anything?" Pinocchio asked. 

"Then we keep looking," Ginger snapped, his face grim. "We can't stop looking."