Chapter 54: White Flowers and Eighty Pairs of Coffins
After that, the conversation went nowhere.
Director Young seemed to be hiding some uncomfortable secret and refused to say anything. The more I pressed him, the clearer it became that whatever secret he was concealing had absolutely nothing to do with what I wanted to know.
Much to his relief, I had no interest in the personal indiscretions he was hiding. Since there was no point in asking further, I politely concluded our conversation and left the director’s office.
How could such a spineless self-preservationist become the head of an institution?
I muttered complaints about London’s shameful state of affairs while gripping the handrail and slowly descending the stairs. The housekeeper stood in exactly the same spot as before. I glanced at her and asked.
“The detective?”
“Downstairs.”
The housekeeper answered without even looking in my direction. Upon closer inspection, the area she was sweeping hadn’t changed at all. Employer and employee perfectly matched in their indolence.
I made my way to the basement. A sharp, acrid smell of dust rose from the stairwell, making my nose itch.