Entry 18

"Alright, I'm heading out," I announced, shouldering my satchel. "Wish me luck."

"Luck is a rather ridiculous belief. To think that events are in the hands of something intangible is rather preposterous," Shirleigh said, standing in front of the fireplace. "So instead of wishing you something that does not exist, I shall tell you that you will do just fine. You do not need something as ridiculous as 'luck'."

"I would hate to have a conversation about religion with you," I mumbled. Despite her views on luck, her last few statements filled me with determination nonetheless. "But thank you. Did you need anything while I'm out? I can stop by the shops on my way back."

She shook her head, her back still facing me.

"I'll bring back some fruit," I said thoughtfully. "That way I can try my hand at making you some smoothies."

With the current vampire case still unsolved, I took it upon myself to monitor Shirleigh's eating habits as she did not like to do so while thinking. Though she fervently protests, she reluctantly eats the food I make her so my "hard work and effort doesn't go to waste."

Ever since we visited the crime scene of the first victim, I noticed a slight change in Shirleigh's behaviour. It is hard to say what exactly, but I can tell that something has been disturbing her. Since our visit to Rye and the morgue, there have been two more bodies have turned up and exhibited the exact same wounds that were inflicted upon the first victim. It is obvious that Shirleigh has been wracking her brain to find some sort of clue but something in her eyes seems...fearful and to be completely honest, it worries me a bit. However, I have been doing my best to encourage her and trying my hand at using her methods, even if I am completely off the mark at times.

Without giving her a chance to respond, I clutched the strap of my satchel and left the flat. It was suddenly that I realised I hadn't held an actual job before. Everything I had done was merely volunteer work or paid internships up to this point. My parents bestowed upon me a living inheritance after my eighteenth birthday, my father continues to do so, even after my mother's passing, and through it, I have been able to stay here at Victoria's Palace but it didn't feel right still having to rely on them. Hopefully, I will prove myself at my new job to be able to pay him back and to sustain myself independently.

"Good morning, Miss Watson. Today's your first day, yes?" Mr Hudson took his place behind the large desk in the main lobby as usual. His eyes seemed to sparkle, something I hadn't seen in a long while. "I wish you a wonderful day."

"Thank you," I smiled. "And you as well."

»»————-　♔　————-««

A large building towered over me as I stood in its shadow. The exterior was constructed of crimson bricks, each one held in place by sand-coloured mortar. Above two large oak doors there was an even larger LED sign that displayed the name of the newspaper I would soon be writing for: The Yard. Presumably, it had been named after the police department.

When I stepped inside, my senses were overwhelmed by the scent of freshly printed papers and the sound of typewriters and keyboards. As I attempted to calm my nerves I was greeted by a woman shortly after my entrance.

"Miss Watson, it is so nice to see you again!" The woman was the Chief Editor of The Yard. Her skin was of a beautiful sepia tone, her eyes matching in a similar but lighter shade. She wore a floor-length wine-coloured dress and a hijab with a newsprint pattern concealing her hair, elegantly wrapping her face. A lanyard hung around her neck with her photo and name, Indira Kamal, displayed on it. "You can follow me and I will show you to your desk."

I followed behind quietly, clasping my hands behind my back to appear calmer on the surface than how I truly felt on the inside. As I glanced around, other journalists could be seen typing away, eyebrows drawn together in intense focus. Some of them glanced up at me, flashing friendly smiles before turning their attention back to their work.

We approached a desk, free of clutter save for a typewriter that I had requested during our last conversation. The desk was situated in front of a window that allowed plenty of natural light to work in.

"If I may ask," I began, running my fingertips along the keys of the typewriter. "What happened to the previous person who worked here, if you don't mind me asking? When we last spoke, you sounded a bit...worried."

She stilled for a moment, folding her hands in front of herself. A pensive expression crossed her features and she sighed.

"The previous employee whose spot you will be filling, hasn't shown up in nearly a week. She never expressed wanting to leave before and she hadn't put in hours for vacation. I was worried that maybe she just up and quit. She is young, maybe she found something better to do, but I found all of it extremely out of character. She is quite the prodigy and really loved writing for the paper."

"That all sounds rather sudden," I stated. "Did she leave anything behind?"

"She left some of her notes and things she kept on her desk," she motioned to a door behind me. "I placed them all in a box and stored them in that room in case she came back to retrieve them."

"Have you informed the..." I left my sentence unfinished, knowing very well what the answer would be. It was unfortunate how unreliable the force had become to the point where people would go missing and no one would even know about it. "What was her name? What did she look like? I could keep an eye out for her and let you know if I see her."

"Her name is Jana Wilson," Miss Kamal walked over to a larger desk which I presumed was hers and pulled a folder from one of its drawers. She handed it over to me. "That was the application she submitted. Her photo is on the first page as well as some other general information."

The photo was of a young woman with fair skin, her face round and dotted with freckles. Her eyes were a bright green and her hair was the most fiery shade of red my eyes have ever seen. Most of my family members were gingers but our hair paled in comparison to Miss Jana Wilson's. As I stared at it longer, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had seen that particular shade of red somewhere recently.

"Would you mind if I held onto this?" I asked, staring at the photograph.

"Go ahead. It would be great to know that someone else is worried and looking for her. I just hope that she's okay."

»»————-　♔　————-««

"I'm back!" I called out, entering the flat. My companion was nowhere in sight. "Shirleigh?"

"Watson!"

Shirleigh bolted out of the kitchen and darted right up to me holding a flask to my eyes.

"I did it!"

"Did...what exactly?" I asked, eyeballing a clear liquid in the conical-shaped glass container.

"The substance Gregson wanted me to identify! I got it, I finally figured it out!"

I wanted to ask her what the mystery substance was, but I had become distracted by a truly wonderful sight. Her smile. She held the flask up before her own eyes, positively beaming. Her eyes sparkled and she grinned from ear to ear. I was glad that she had found something else to focus her attention on rather than worrying about the Sussex vampire as the mystery substance in question was unrelated. In fact, I hoped that Miss Jana Wilson's disappearance would be an intriguing enough case to do the same.

After realising I had been silent for a while, she looked down at me and her gaze focused on the photograph I held in my hand.

"How was your first day?" she asked me, her usual stoic expression returning as she took the grocery bag from my other hand. "What's that?"

"I believe it may be a new case for you," I said, handing her the photo. "This is the employee who used to work at the newspaper whose spot I fill now. Do you recall how I told you that the Chief Editor informed me that she hadn't shown up to work in several days? Well, it actually seems as though she's missing and I feel there may be more to her sudden disappearance. I was wondering if you could look into it. Her hair colour irks me for some reason..."

Shirleigh held the photo up to her face and squinted. She then placed the photograph on top of a newspaper on her end table and hummed.

"Seeing as it is an urgent matter, I shall begin looking into it immediately."

I placed my satchel on the ground and fell into my chair. Closing my eyes, I saw Jana's young face and wondered if maybe she had been kidnapped. The hairs on my arms stood on end and I desperately tried to rub them away. When I opened my eyes, I saw Shirleigh leaning against the mantel of the fireplace, gazing into the windows of my soul.

"Goodness..." I whispered, pressing a hand to my chest. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You're thinking about the missing girl, yes? Would you care to tell me your theories?"

"Oh, no," I waved my hand in the air. "I haven't the slightest clue on where to begin, let alone form theories."

"But you have already started a new line of inquiry," she told me, removing herself from the mantel and sitting across from me. She leaned forward on her elbows and pressed her fingertips together. "Work your way from there."

"I have? I'm afraid I don't follow."

She took the photograph from her end table and handed it back to me. I shrugged in confusion.

"Her hair colour. You said it bothered you. That is a start in itself. Now you just have to figure out why it bothers you."

"Well...I feel as though I have seen this exact colour somewhere before..." my eyebrows drew together as I tried to place where exactly I had seen this particular hue of auburn. Then it struck me like a flash of lightning. "It was in the morning paper! From several days ago! It was the day your sister had visited. You came running down the stairs and held it up to my face comparing my hair colour to an advertisement."

I jumped to my feet, clutching the photo in my hands feeling as though I was on the right track. I looked at Shirleigh whose eyes seemed to glitter.

"Do you still have it?" I asked.

"Do I?" Shirleigh looked as if she waited for this moment for ages. She rose to her feet and motioned for me to follow after her.

»»————-　♔　————-««

We followed Mr. Hudson down a hallway that the doors behind the front desk opened up to. I had never noticed them until a few moments ago. There were doors on either side of the hall and he halted in front of one that appeared to be made of oak.

"The Archives," Mr. Hudson stepped aside and extended an arm ushering us inside.

We entered an enormous room that housed the tallest filing cabinets one could ever lay their eyes upon. A familiar scent wafted through the air and I instantly recognised it as belonging to old books and newspapers. Wooden beams ran across the ceiling and down the walls contrasting the more modern appearance of the lobby from which we came.

"What is all of this?" I wondered, staring up at the mahogany giants that loomed over me.

"It is where I store all of the newspapers I have received, dating back a few years," Shirleigh told me, strolling down an aisle of cabinets, reading the labels on the drawers as she passed by. "Newspapers, copies of case files, and other stationery that may prove useful someday are all meticulously filed away in this room."

"A few years' worth of newspapers?"

"I suppose I am what you may call a 'hoarder'."

Shirleigh stopped in front of a drawer and pulled the knob revealing a great number of newspapers crammed together like canned sardines. She removed one of them from its place and kicked the drawer shut. She approached me and held out the paper, a fist planted firmly on her hip.

"What...?" I hesitantly took the newspaper from her in slight confusion.

"You wanted to see it, did you not?"

"Oh...right..."

I stared at the ink-stained pages and took a few deep breaths before filtering through them to find the source of the scarlet colour. The room was silent, save for the sound of me flipping page after page in the newspaper. And then I found it.

"This is it! This is the colour!" I took the photo of Jana and held it up beside the swatch of colour in the paper. "It is nearly exactly the same!"

There was a feeling of accomplishment and I suddenly felt extremely proud of myself. I stared at the advertisement that had the specific shade of red front and centre.

"The Red-Headed League...?" I muttered, my eyebrows knitting together as I read what was written. "It sounds a little...suspicious, wouldn't you say? This much money for such little work? Do you reckon it's a scam? Wait. Do you think Miss Wilson saw this advertisement and went to inquire about the work because her hair colour matched the image?"

"Is that what you think?"

Shirleigh stared at me, her arms now crossed. There seemed to be a faint smile that danced on her lips.

"I—I think so," I said, looking back at Jana's photo. "She does work for The Yard, maybe she saw this advertisement in the paper this particular day and thought that maybe she was a perfect candidate...but...in the end, I feel that she may have just quit her job at the paper for this one. The pay for the amount of work—"

"No no no," Shirleigh interrupted my sentence and let out a disgruntled sigh. "You said yourself that you feel as though there is something more behind her disappearance, that you feel she is missing. So why the sudden retraction?"

"Well...because it was just a feeling," I shrugged. "I remember you telling me not to act upon hunches as they are no substitute for solid evidence."

Shirleigh gave me a listless glare and folded her arms.

"What? They were your words, not mine."

My partner sighed and brushed past me taking the newspaper from my hands. Pausing in the doorway, she placed a hand on the doorframe and peered back at me over her shoulder.

"The day is coming to a close, Watson," she stated thus bringing our time in the Archives to an end. "It would be wise to obtain a full night's rest if we have any hope of finding Miss Jana Wilson."