Entry 23
"Green Calm Below, Blue Quietness Above"
November 1st
November 1st
"What...?"
Juniper stumbled backward bumping into one of the chairs in front of the unlit fireplace. She stared at one of the many papers that lay on the desk before her flatmate. One of which triggered her audible and physical reaction. However, the opposite was true for her partner, the one who decoded the sinister message.
Shirleigh remained unmoving at the work table. It was impossible to tell what exactly was going on in her mind at this exact moment. Her face was expressionless yet conveyed a multitude of emotions. Her posture appeared to be relaxed but her shoulders were very much tense.
"Shirl-"
Before Juniper could finish calling her partner's name, there was a loud thud and the sound of glass clinking together. The noise echoed throughout the room as Shirleigh's balled fist rested on the tabletop.
"You were right..." she mumbled through gritted teeth, her voice cold as steel. "...I should have listened to you..."
"'Right'?" Juniper's eyes were fixated on her companion's fist, which rattled the test tubes and flasks. "Right about what?"
Shirleigh rose to her feet, the legs of the chair she was sitting in screeching against the hardwood floors. She never tore her gaze from the intricate wallpaper.
"The letters... There was a letter after each major incident we investigated and I gave them no heed. You even attempted to bring them to my attention by saying they may be a part of a larger pattern and yet..."
It was as she trailed off that Shirleigh's eyes finally closed, her eyebrows angling downward and creasing her delicate skin.
Juniper watched her partner for a moment, examining her nature. To anyone else, Shirleigh would be unapproachable in her current state. However, the more she studied her companion's ever-changing emotions, the more she felt the urge to reach out and help her. If Shirleigh were open to receiving that help, it was difficult to tell.
Juniper took in a deep breath and approached her partner, taking up one of her hands in her own. Despite how cold her companion often came across, her hands were surprisingly warm.
Shirleigh turned to face Juniper, a somewhat perplexed expression on her face, yet she did not pull her hand away or chastise her much shorter companion. Instead, she turned her body completely toward Juniper and looked down at her hand that was sandwiched between Juniper's smaller ones. The maroon nail polish complimented Juniper's warmer skin tone but they were noticeably chipped and her cuticles could use some tending to. It was at this moment that the both of them realised that they had never made it to that nail appointment.
"You shouldn't blame yourself," Juniper said, staring at her beaten nailbeds. "It is easy to understand where you were coming from. I am not entirely certain of all that goes on in that head of yours, but if you were able to work your way through the past several weeks, a situation like this will not stop you. You know I will always be here to assist you if you should ever need me."
It was evident in the way Juniper spoke that she did not wish to sound as though she were looking down on her partner or being condescending for that was not how she felt, not in the slightest. In fact, this was not the first time Juniper had reached out to her partner in such a manner. Juniper thought of Shirleigh as one of the strongest people she had ever encountered, both in body and mind. She wanted to support her friend in any way she could. Even if that meant simply existing.
"Would you like to go out for breakfast?" Juniper continued as she released her companion's hands. "I know you haven't eaten anything and it may be nice to go on a morning stroll to clear our heads."
Shirleigh's attention was fixed on a point seemingly past her flatmate, her eyes void of emotion. It was extremely subtle but she shook her head. Sections of her chestnut hair fell over her shoulders. Neither moved from their positions as they remained still in the sunlit room.
Juniper folded her hands in front of her skirt. She felt that perhaps there was something she could do to assist the woman before her, but she could not figure out what. She often wished that she had studied matters of the mind just as she had studied the human body but found that subjects such as psychology did not stick with her.
What was one supposed to do when someone so close to them lost someone of the same status? Moriarty seemed to be somebody who was close to Shirleigh and it was unclear if she took the proper time to grieve.
What did Shirleigh look like when she grieved?
Juniper silently stepped to the side to get around her companion before something tugged at her wrist. When she turned to look, she found that Shirleigh had taken hold of her arm but had not moved from where she stood.
Frowning, Juniper looked up at her flatmate, worry filling her emerald eyes. She remained unmoving in her friend's grasp.
"Shirleigh..."
There was a brief silence.
"Ju—" Shirleigh spoke barely above a whisper. "Watson."
Juniper watched as Shirleigh's shoulders relaxed, waiting for her partner's following words.
"Stay..."
At first, Juniper was a bit shocked to hear such a request come from the person who preferred solitude, but she knew that now more than ever, Shirleigh needed a companion—someone she could spend time with during this dreadful period. No words needed to be exchanged; simply being in the presence of the other was enough to bring them down to Earth, even if it were only temporary.
Mr Hudson had made his way up to the girls' room to speak with them. After hearing their minimal conversation, however, he decided to give them the privacy they needed.
»»————- ♔ ————-««
Unbeknownst to any of the residents residing in Victoria's Palace, there was a person in the building just across, staring down the barrel of a sniper rifle.
The watcher was a woman stationed in a vacant room of a hotel across from Victoria's Palace.
Her long, black hair was pinned up into a bun save a couple of sections that fell on either side of her face and danced on the wind that flowed in through the partially open window. Her deep-toned skin shimmered in the sunlight as she remained perfectly still, her breathing nearly unnoticeable.
Her view of 2-21B was clear. Making the slightest movements, she adjusted her right hand on the grip of her weapon. She closed one of her charcoal eyes, tilting her head so she could view her target through the scope.
With a clean shot lined up, our marksman placed her finger on the trigger but she hesitated. A marksman never hesitates.
The woman's breath hitched and it was the first indication that she was truly a living human being; her movements being intensely methodical up until this point. Her jaw clenched and her shoulders grew tense. What was it that has thrown off our assassin?
Staring down the barrel of the sniper rifle, a tear found its way down the side of her face and she aggressively wiped it away with the back of her hand.
Returning to her post, she could barely get back into position before waterfalls began running down her cheeks. She removed herself from the window, allowing her rifle to fall to the ground as she sat on the cold, hard ground, leaning her body against the wall.
Alone in this dim room, her cries echoed off of the walls and rang in her ears only causing her to cry more. She held herself, burying her face in her knees. One could barely make out the words she sputtered to herself in a foreign language.
It appears our assassin witnessed the comforting relationship between the residents of 2-21B. Was she jealous? Alone? Why had she been scoped in on them in the first place?
The truth was that she was a friend of the late Jade Moriarty. The two had met several years ago when the assassin was in the armed forces. They spent most of their time together frequenting museums and coffee shops. Whenever one had a rough day, the solution was as simple as calling up the other. With that person gone from her life without so much as a goodbye, it tore her apart inside and seeing the way Juniper and Shirleigh interacted only made the anguish bubble up to the surface until it was too much to hold back any longer.
The memories affected her main objective to take the life of the person who she believed to be responsible for her friend's death.
What was she to do now? Would she wait for these emotions to pass and attempt the assassination again? Or would she retreat for her window of opportunity has passed?
She wiped at her face a last time before snatching up her rifle and rising to her feet. Disassembling it into smaller compact pieces, it seemed she had made up her mind.
After shoving the pieces of her rifle into her backpack, she slung it over her shoulder and turned to look out the window once more. She gazed at the two friends for a few moments before starting for the stairs.
»»————- ♔ ————-««
"Hey..."
The voice had taken Mr Hudson by surprise as he was preoccupied at the given moment.
Closing the folder that rested on the desk and pushing some papers aside, he looked up to greet who had been waiting for him all this time. When his eyes lifted, he was taken aback for some reason or other. The marksman had made her way down to Victoria's Palace herself, her intentions unknown.
Although it was unclear whether or not she still wanted to carry out her purpose, she posed no threat as she quietly shifted in place.
"Miss Moran—"
"Is Shirleigh here?" she asked. She did not speak loudly, yet it seemed like her voice echoed throughout the lobby.
There was a brief pause before Hudson replied. "I believe you already know the answer to your question."
Hudson's eyes narrowed behind his glasses and the lenses glared underneath the chandelier light as he lowered his head ever so slightly. The air surrounding him became noticeably more tense. This defensive state was unlike how anyone had ever seen him that some of the residents passing through began whispering to one another.
"Look," the assassin supposedly known as 'Moran' dropped her bag on the desk between her and Hudson. "I am not planning anything. Not anymore, at least."
Hudson started but Moran's change in demeanour is what ultimately prevented him from doing something rash. Her shoulder had slumped as she inevitably thought back to her previous plan of assassination and the reason she could not go through with it.
"I—" she steeled herself, adjusting her posture and brushing the hairs from her face. "I just want to speak with her."
Hudson watched her for a moment, deciding if he wanted to trust her or not. After a brief moment, he exhaled and led the woman up the stairs. Before he could even lift a hand to knock on the door of 2-21B, it flew open, revealing our blue-eyed detective on the other side.
"Ah, Miss Shivani Moran," Shirleigh greeted. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"