Chapter 99 The Mystery of the Locked Room
"The Passion of Matthew is based on the Gospel of Matthew. It's a very famous story in the Bible, but what does it have to do with this case? I can't see any connection at all," the cat father pondered.
The little detective climbed onto the piano bench, fiddled with the metronome for a while, and found that it was broken and unusable, so he turned his attention to the piano.
"Joseph, do you have any ideas?" the man asked.
“The Last Supper.” The little detective tapped the piano keys a few times, frowned, and continued, “If our guess is correct, then the meal in the castle 20 years ago was Miss Swann and Mr. Karasuma’s last supper.”
"But isn't including the entire score just for such a small hint a bit excessive? It feels like there's some other purpose behind it..."
"Perhaps, but if the goal is simply to uncover the truth of this case, this alone might be enough." The young detective kept changing positions as he tapped the piano keys, his brow furrowed.
The man couldn't help but ask, "Are you trying out the piano?"
The young detective looked up and sighed, "No, it doesn't look like what I thought. The pitch is off, and the message wasn't hidden in the music."
“That’s quite natural, isn’t it? After all, this piano hasn’t been tuned for at least 20 years, and it even survived a fire. Even if the murderer really wanted to express something through it, it would be out of tune,” the man replied with a smile. He knew that the young detective was a tone-deaf person with perfect pitch, his ears were sharp, but his throat was always out of sync.
"Joseph, why don't you help me find the other door?"
"Huh?"
"Look, how did this piano get in? It's too big to fit through this door, so there must be another entrance."
“That’s right! This piano probably needs four people to move. If it really was O’Sirius who did it, he definitely couldn’t have done it alone. There must be some simpler and faster secret passage leading to the living room.”
The big cat and the little cat searched carefully in the dimly lit basement with flashlights. The kitten discovered a hidden door first: "Daddy, come quick! I... Ah!"
"Joseph! Are you alright?!" The man rushed over and looked down into the dark cave entrance. Seeing the little boy still moving, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Wait down there, I'll come get you!"
"Sorry, I slipped and missed a step."
The cat father was unmoved: "From now on, stay behind me and don't run off!"
"Okay, Daddy," the kitten replied obediently.
The man shone his flashlight around to check the surroundings: it was an underground tunnel with a small entrance and a narrow passage, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side; it couldn't possibly be the door for transporting pianos.
"Dad, look! What's this on the ground?"
The man crouched down, looking at the wooden track that resembled a railway track with a puzzled expression: "I wonder where this road leads?"
"Let's go!" The kitten skipped and hopped ahead.
"Wait a minute! Didn't we agree that you would follow behind me?!" The old father continued to chase after his son helplessly.
The tunnel was much longer than they had expected. Just when the father and son were panting from lack of oxygen underground and were almost starting to doubt whether they could reach the exit, they saw a glimmer of hope: a four-wheeled wooden cart was parked in front of them!
"So this track was built for that purpose! To make it easier to ride," Daddy Cat analyzed. "This castle is surrounded by lakes on all sides, so the construction of this tunnel must have been done before the lakes were created, and its purpose was probably some kind of secret escape route, right?"
"I wonder what it looks like outside the exit?" The young detective nimbly climbed the ladder, leaving his father alone, shaking his head and sighing: Forget it, there's no point in saying more, and he won't learn anything anyway.
After climbing up, the two found themselves surrounded by a small hill and a forest. Looking around, they realized that the white Neuschwanstein Castle was no bigger than the palm of their hand, and that they were quite far from the entrance.
"Dad, who do you think was the last person to get out in the car?"
"It's very likely the person who moved the piano to the basement. But since he didn't use the front door, does that mean he's afraid of being seen?"
"It's also possible that we can't get through through the main entrance. Didn't you say that Miss Swan's mother sealed this place off after she died?"
"Huh? You mean that person wasn't at the crime scene? They only came here after the fire?"
"I was just saying it's possible," the little detective said, tugging at her father's clothes. "Daddy, I want to take the car home! Walking is so tiring."
The return trip took much less time than the outbound trip, but they still had to face the same question: how did they get the piano in?
"Dad, what do you think is the room directly opposite the basement?"
"Hmm, let me think..." The man tried to recreate the three-dimensional structure of the castle in his mind. "Is it quite close to the living room?"
"Then I'll go up and verify it!" the little detective volunteered.
"No! You stay here and wait for me obediently."
The little detective had no choice but to climb onto the grand piano, sit on the edge of the lid, and rest his chin on his hand while waiting. He thought to himself: "Dad is so slow! Should I go up and help him?"
Just as he made up his mind to take action, a dull thud sounded above him. The little detective, thrown off his feet, tumbled into the piano, his golden-brown head poking out as he angrily complained, "Dad, you've gone too far! Couldn't you have given me a heads-up?!"
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to find it so easily.” The man jumped down lightly from above. “You’re right, this is indeed a music castle. If you observe carefully, you can find the discordant notes, which is where the mechanism is located.”
"But this piano couldn't have fallen directly from there, could it? There are no signs of impact on the ground from a heavy object falling..."
"I think that person must have used a pulley system. I found some strange nail marks in the living room, which should have been for securing the pulleys."
"So, even a child like Osiris could accomplish this seemingly impossible task?"
"That's right."
"But the Passion of Matthew is still puzzling! Who is Jesus, and who is Judas?" The little detective racked his brains but couldn't figure it out. "Dad, did Miss Swann and Mr. Karasuma know each other before?"
"I'm not quite sure about that yet. Let's go outside first! It's too dark and stuffy in here. Besides, it's time for dinner. We can continue tomorrow!"
The next day, the cat father suggested, "How about we go look for Miss Swann's room? Maybe we'll find some new clues."
"Tick-tock-tick-tock-bedroom, bedroom... Ah, found it! Daddy, come quick!" The excited kitten shouted.
When something happens repeatedly, people gradually get used to it. For example, now, the man is no longer surprised and feels no emotion whatsoever.
"Dad, look at the dressing table! And the photo in the frame, isn't that Miss Swan?"
The man looked around: the damage here was much less than that of the restaurant, and the rooms were relatively well preserved.
"What's in this box?" The man squatted down curiously. The small, dusty box wasn't locked. He carefully opened it and was surprised to find some old newspapers inside. In this age of electronic media, "These are really things from a bygone era."
The newspapers were illegible due to dampness, mold, and insect damage. But the man still managed to decipher a crucial news item: Miss Swann, a soprano, had toured Japan, and the Karasuma Group was one of her sponsors. Based on the dates in the newspapers, it was a year before the incident.
"Such achievements at the age of 20! It's such a pity she died so young..." the man sighed silently. He quickly flipped through the old news, which were all reports about her performances, and deduced that she first became connected with the Karasuma family when she was 19 and had just begun to show her talent.
"Dad, is Miss Swan engaged?"
"Huh? Why do you ask that?"
“There’s a ring here!” The little detective smiled knowingly. “It’s engraved with the initials of Karasuma and Swann: ‘To the love of my life, Miss Helen Swann.’”
"Could they be lovers? Was that dinner alone that night actually a proposal?!"
The man was horrified by the thought: "Look at this, Mr. Karasuma is old enough to be Miss Swan's father." Can a swan fall in love with a crow?
The thought of this gave him goosebumps.
“No, I also found a letter in the drawer. Based on the date and contents, this ring must have been a gift Miss Swann received during her tour in Japan,” the little detective said. “Dad, what do you think they talked about at the Last Supper?”
"Who is the betrayer of love? Like Judas betraying Jesus? But that's too far-fetched." The man shook his head, denying it to himself: it's possible that Osiris was too young to accurately express his intentions when he committed the crime. But he still preferred to imagine his opponent to be stronger.
"If it was a crime of passion, why use this story from the St. Matthew Passion? It doesn't fit at all! Swan Lake would probably be more plausible. And what does this have to do with Osiris?" The man couldn't make sense of it no matter how hard he tried.
"Lord, I prostrate myself at your feet! Praise you, follow you! Guide me, forgive me! Love me, kiss me!" The little detective prostrated himself on the ground like a madman, muttering to himself.
The sight startled the cat father, who thought his son had been possessed by an evil spirit. He rushed over and hugged him, shouting anxiously, "Joseph, what's wrong?!"
The young detective, as if nothing had happened, resumed his normal tone: "It's nothing, just a scene recreation."
"Restore what?"
"Of course, it's a recreation of Mr. Karasuma's courtship scene! The St. Matthew Passion version." The kitten darted out of its father's arms. "Do you think there might be some kind of secret room here?" But it made too much of a splash and tripped, bumping its head.
"Joseph!" the old father cried out in disbelief; he had suffered a heart attack that day.
With a rumbling sound, a hidden door appeared behind the wardrobe.
"What incredible luck!"
The man felt both helpless and relieved, and asked with concern, "Are you alright?"
"Yay! We finally found it!" The little detective, who had forgotten the pain before his scars had even healed, rushed forward first, but this time he couldn't be so arrogant: his father had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
The man, holding the kitten by the arm, commanded fiercely, "Follow behind me!"
"Okay, Dad." She was well-behaved and sensible.
The father and son walked down the stone steps, only to find an iron gate at the end with an inscription on it.
"Dad, this door is completely different from the architectural style of the other rooms."
"Indeed, and judging from the rust, it's definitely not a hundred years old. It was probably installed during a fire."
"What is written on the door? I can't understand a word of it?"
"Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro."
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi chintrate."
“I alone am eternal; all beings of the past were nothingness.”
"Those who enter this gate must abandon all hope."
The man explained in a deep voice.
Wow, Daddy is amazing!
"It's nothing, I saw it in a foreign literature appreciation class when I was in school," the man replied. He would never tell his son that the main reason he remembered this passage so vividly was that a certain blond classmate in his teenage years had posted the last sentence on his bedroom door.
I remember that person saying smugly, "Jing, think carefully before you come in!"
In fact, the man never had to think twice before entering his childhood friend's room. But he hesitated slightly before this iron door: "So, this is the legendary gate to hell?"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
