Scarecrow of 1889
Chapter 23: Distressed situation

Chapter 23: Distressed situation

On one evening, Sylvester returned to his apartment building, the weight of his mother’s fate still heavy on his shoulders. His worry for his sister and his own safety lingered, casting a shadow over his every step. As he set foot inside, on the verge of ascending the stairs, Margot emerged from her doorway, offering her condolences.

"I’m sorry about your mother, Vester. She was a remarkable woman," Margot expressed sympathetically.

Sylvester managed a faint smile in return, murmuring his gratitude. "Thank you, Margot."

"Would you like to join me for supper? I made plenty for two," Margot suggested, her eyes hopeful.

"Thanks, but I’m tired and could use some rest. Have a goodnight," Sylvester politely declined, continuing up the stairs and closing his door behind him once inside. Since his mother’s passing, he had been on edge, constantly checking windows and doors, even resorting to keeping a knife under his pillow for self-defence in case the killer returned.

RING! RING!

An hour later, the phone’s shrill ring made him jump. Picking up the receiver, his voice betrayed his nervousness. "Hello?"

"It’s me, Elizabeth. Sorry, did I wake you?" His sister’s voice came through from the other end.

"No. I am yet to go to sleep. Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes, yes. Everything is alright. How about you?"

"I’m fine, Beth," Sylvester reassured, the weight of his recent experiences evident in his voice. Since they laid their mother to rest, his sister had been calling him every evening, seemingly anxious about his well-being.

"We were thinking of going to the zoo this weekend. If you’re free, we’d love for you to come along," Elizabeth’s voice came through the receiver.

"Mm, I’ll let you know. Thanks, Beth," Sylvester replied before ending the call, replacing the receiver in its cradle.

Tired and lacking an appetite, Sylvester laid on the bed with his feet hanging in the air as he fell asleep.

The next morning, he was woken up by a commotion that was taking place outside his door. Wondering what was going on he walked to his door and stepped outside into the corridor. There were people on the floor below and some had crowded outside the building.

Did Margot turn famous or something? Sylvester asked himself. Because his building never had so many people. Or did they uncover something from the flower pots?

Two men carried out a body with white sheet covered over it. But when the wind blew, Sylvester saw a dead Margot. No...

Margot’s throat had been slit. Her eyes were hollow because someone had scooped her eyes out and there was too much dried blood. His face twisted in horror, not knowing what had happened or how.

"Keep looking at every nook and cranny," one of the officers demanded from his men. "Check all the residents here."

"We finished checking this one here. It is clean!" Sylvester heard a man speak on the end of the corridor where he stood. The man had come out of Joe Parker’s house.

"Check the next one house!"

And two men came to Sylvester, before entering his house and looking through his place. One of them came out from the kitchen, carrying a knife block and said, "There’s a knife missing here. It must be the weapon."

"No, it is not!" Sylvester exclaimed, dread flooding his mind. First, he had to worry about his life, and now he faced the terrifying prospect of being framed for a crime he didn’t commit. As he took a step forward, the officer raised his hand to stop him. "I will show you where the sixth knife is!"

Reluctantly, Sylvester led the officers to his bedroom, pushing his pillow aside to reveal the knife nestled there. "See? Here it is. I kept it for self-defence!"

"Oh..." said the officer with an apologetic look.

When another officer was going through his cupboard, he caught sight of a pair of clothes that he didn’t remember buying. Wait, did that belong to the theatre? He didn’t remember bringing it back home with him.

"Everything looks clean here. Nothing suspicious or murder weapons," the person informed and Sylvester was relieved upon hearing it. At least he wasn’t being framed for it!

"Great!" Sylvester was happy that they found nothing. He stretched his hand forward and pointed towards the door. "You should look for the killer in the next buildings. You never know."

But the moment he did that, the officers standing there, one of them furrowed their eyebrows. The officer’s eyes were on Sylvester’s hands—nails to be specific. Noticing this, the latter turned to look at them and he frowned.

Why did his nails look like he had worked with mud? And his nails were never dirty—dark red...

"Is that dried blood under your nails?!" the officer exclaimed with a stunned expression. "Mr. Crowley, you are under arrest."

"To think we have the culprit trying to hide in plain sight! You will be coming with us!"

Sylvester’s mouth fell open, with no words coming out in pure shock. The weight of the accusation hung heavy in the air, leaving him reeling with disbelief. Handcuffs were placed on his wrists before he was taken out of his apartment, with Grumpy and the Gardener staring at him.

As Sylvester was escorted out of the building, he couldn’t help but notice the growing crowd of onlookers gathered around, their murmurs and whispers adding to the chaos. Three carriages were stationed nearby, and one of them was used to take Margot’s body to the morgue for inspection.

Meanwhile, Jane who had received a call about the new murder that had occurred in Riddleford and they quickly dashed to the crime scene.

Jane and Addison had just arrived on the scene when they witnessed the officer pushing Sylvester towards the carriage. Addison’s expression twisted in shock as he exclaimed, "Holy crap! Sylvester Crowley? He killed his own mother?!"

"Sylvester Crowley?" Jane’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as she watched the man climb inside the carriage. Because she had known him as Ricardo Wood. What on earth was going on?!

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