Bailonz Street 13

“Liam.”

Saying his name now feels as natural as breathing. The initial aversion, once as irritating as sand grains, has vanished over time. Maybe it’s because we’ve spent over a month together. It could also be because we’ve been through so much in a short period—not too long, not too short.

As Liam Moore let down his guard, I found myself doing the same. After we solve this case, I plan to nag him about his bad habits. He doesn’t need to work himself to the point of self-destruction. I muttered to myself as I sighed.

“Why are you sleeping so uncomfortably….”

Not even using a blanket. If you catch a cold, you’ll be the one suffering. And you haven’t changed your clothes. What’s with that?

I unbuttoned his uncomfortable vest and loosened his tie. The sleeping man remained motionless. It felt a bit disappointing, as if he was avoiding me, though he was just asleep.

“You used to look at me so intently all the time.”

Those gray eyes, once filled with warmth, now avoided mine. I had grown accustomed to the way his gaze lingered on me, and now he turned away. If this was how it was going to be, he shouldn’t have started in the first place.

“If you’re not going to look at me anymore or start to keep your distance, you shouldn’t have looked at me at all.”

I muttered, finding it somewhat amusing. What is this? Complaining to a sleeping person. I should just remove his tie and leave.

This British man had even failed to take off one of his shoes. My eyes caught it, and as a Korean, I shuddered at the sight. Even though my mindset was half British by now, some things ran too deep to ignore.

For instance… climbing onto a bed with shoes on. Such a person was a heretic. I hadn’t done much since arriving here, but this was something I needed to make known. Let’s not wear shoes indoors.

I pulled off his shoe with a pop and set it aside. This scene reminded me of an exhausted father coming home from work, making me smile a bit. My gloomy mood lifted slightly.

“Young man, take off your shoes indoors.”

I muttered to the sleeping man, then pulled the blanket over him. I hoped whatever was making him so sensitive would be resolved quickly. I wanted things to go back to the way they were. I missed the lively and carefree Liam Moore. I looked at his dark ink-colored hair for a while, then gently stroked it. The sleeping man mumbled softly.

＊ ＊ ＊

[Dear Jonathan,

How are you? I’m doing well. Lately, London has been quite chaotic, and I’m worried about you. While people around me take good care of me, I’m not sure how you’re doing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in touch with Father. Nonetheless, I don’t plan to return to that house. I’m sorry, Jonathan. Take good care of Mother on my behalf.

Things here aren’t as bad as you worry. Perhaps you’ve seen my news in the papers. I’ll visit you soon. Are you still living at your old address? If you’ve moved, let me know. I sent a telegram to your workplace.

Winter is cold. Christmas is approaching. Stay well and healthy.

– Your sister.]

＊ ＊ ＊

As soon as it was light, I went to see Herschel Hopkins. Before we parted on the train, Herschel had given me a note with his address and mentioned he would show me a picture of a young Liam Moore. Although it didn’t matter much now (as I had already seen his memories), I was worried about him. He was the only club member I knew.

I took a carriage to a residential area about 15 minutes away. Before leaving, I told Liam I was heading to Herschel’s, but he didn’t respond. He seemed to be asleep. He hadn’t come out of his room since sunrise. I silently offered my condolences to his shattered sleep pattern.

Lost in thought, I arrived at the address on the paper. The house had a small front yard. As I knocked on the door and waited for a response, I glanced around the property.

There was a garden, which would have been beautiful in the spring. Though it was winter and the flowers were all withered, it was clear Herschel took great care of it. He seemed knowledgeable about gardening. I hadn’t known that before.

There was no response from inside. I knocked again.

“Professor Herschel?”

Strange. I thought he’d come out quickly.

I started to feel a bit uneasy. I hoped nothing was wrong, but I couldn’t help but think, “Could he be the latest victim of this case?”

I knocked again, louder this time, and called out.

“Professor!”

After a moment, I heard shuffling from inside. Herschel Hopkins slowly opened the door and peeked out.

“Are you hurt?”

He was limping and looked extremely tired. His usually neat hair was disheveled, and dark circles surrounded his eyes. He had a bit of stubble on his cheeks, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He was wearing a heavy indoor gown, looking a mess. It was truly strange.

Embarrassed to be seen in such a state, Herschel gave an awkward smile.

“I’m fine. I slipped on the stairs yesterday.”

Behind his slightly turned shoulder, I saw the damaged stairs. The wooden planks had rotted and broken. I muttered to myself.

“Oh, my God.”

Herschel grumbled.

“At my age, I need to be more careful, but sometimes I forget I’m not young anymore.”

Come to think of it, he looked a bit thinner than the last time I saw him. He might be skipping meals. Professor, you need to live long….

Did I look too concerned? Herschel lightly cleared his throat.

“Is Liam doing well?”

Should I say he’s doing well? I’m not sure. At least he’s sleeping… I didn’t want to burden Herschel with worries about Liam.

“Of course. He’s doing well. He’s been a bit on edge lately, but that’s common when things don’t go his way. He’ll come around on his own.”

“Let me know if he gives you too much trouble. I’ll give him a stern talking-to.”

I chuckled briefly.

“Professor, Liam isn’t nine years old anymore!”

He’s not at the age to write reflection papers for misbehaving. Though, if he did, it would be a logically structured piece with the six principles of writing. But I’d rather not have to read that.

Herschel stepped aside to let me in. Though not unsteady, his steps were labored, so I helped him along. Holding my arm, he muttered a word of thanks. He was heavy, but not so much that I couldn’t support him, so we moved slowly.

Both the godfather and the godson have a knack for making people worry.

“Would you like some tea?”

Herschel asked.

“I’d be delighted.”

I replied.

Cranberry jam cookies and tea were placed in front of me. Steam rose from the teapot. He flipped an hourglass and waited, then poured the tea for me with precise movements. He seemed used to serving tea to others.

Herschel sipped his tea. The clear crimson liquid swirled in his cup. After some small talk, I asked,

“Is everything okay?”

Herschel blinked slowly twice.

“Is everything… okay?”

“Things have been so chaotic lately. There was even a death at the university. I was worried.”

He chuckled.

“There are always students who would love to see a professor dead.”

That’s true. But, professor, hold on. I jumped up.

“Aren’t you being too casual about this?”

The godson and godfather are alike. I wondered where Liam got his habit of making dark jokes about their own safety. Apparently, it came from this man. Herschel even mimicked wiping away tears.

“Miss Jane, if anything happens to me, the culprit is a graduate student….”

I asked worriedly.

“Are you ensuring they graduate properly?”

Herschel sheepishly avoided my gaze.

Is this man asking for trouble?