04. A Matter of Perfection
On the afternoon of Rodi’s arrival, the formal meeting began.
While the knights gathered in the conference room cast uncomfortable glances her way, Likens spoke.
“We are reclassifying the case of Lady Violet from a runaway to an abduction.”
Someone raised an objection.
“Commander, has there been any ransom demand or threat so far?”
In an ordinary abduction, demands for money or other concessions were bound to follow from the kidnapper.
“I agree. Is there any particular reason you consider this a kidnapping rather than a simple case of running away?”
Likens glanced at Rodi beside him. When their eyes met, she gave a nod.
“Miss Rodi here will provide further explanation regarding that.”
“Pardon…?”
Regardless of the knights’ bewilderment, Rodi distributed the bundle of reports in her hands to each person.
“The reports I’ve handed out compile and analyze the trends of missing persons over the past twenty years.”
The knights, opening the papers with evident discomfort, soon wore looks of astonishment.
Even at a glance, the content was impeccably organized and flawlessly presented.
Someone raised a hand and asked,
“Did the… young lady prepare this?”
“‘Miss Rodi’ will suffice, Sir. Every word of this report was written by my own hand. Is there a problem?”
“…No.”
Desperate to find any flaw that would allow them to throw her out of the room, the knights scrutinized the report thoroughly.
Yet it was completely in vain.
The neatly structured document was far more polished than anything they routinely produced.
In fact, it would easily rival the work of imperial bureaucrats.
‘How is this possible?’
That woman, who knew nothing other than tormenting others, made something like this…?
“Looking at the report, you can see that the number of missing persons surges dramatically starting fifteen years ago.”
Naturally, for Rodi, who had weathered years in corporate trenches, a presentation of this scale was child’s play.
“It’s an increase of barely ten percent, hardly a significant—”
Rodi cut in coldly.
“A ten percent increase means dozens more lives have vanished. Would you be willing to say those words directly to the families of the missing?”
“…”
When the dissenting knight fell silent, she continued.
“Examining the trend over the past fifteen years reveals a single common denominator among those who disappeared.”
Just then.
“Blond hair.”
Simone, the pink-haired knight who had been watching quietly from the corner, spoke up slowly.
“Most of the missing people have blond hair.”
Rodi glanced at her and nodded.
“Correct. The disappearance of blond individuals has increased noticeably.”
Murmurs rippled through the knights.
“Are you suggesting someone is deliberately targeting people with blond hair?”
“That’s absurd.”
“I agree. Isn’t it simply a coincidence?”
“Every claim I make is grounded in data accumulated over time.”
Rodi cut through them calmly.
“If you wish to refute my opinion, present evidence and data of your own.”
“…”
Her words left the knights without a single rebuttal.
In the end, they cast pleading looks toward Likens, who had been observing the room.
“Commander, what are your thoughts?”
“Surely you don’t consider that woman’s claim substantiated?”
His answer was unequivocal.
“Data does not lie.”
“…”
It was as good as stating he agreed with Rodi.
Glancing at Likens, who had lent weight to her argument, Rodi continued.
“…In any case, there is a seminal incident that marks the sudden spike in missing blondes.”
Having read the final page of the report, the knights stared at her lips in sheer dread of what she might say next.
“The deaths of Young Duke Joen and his wife.”
A collective shudder ran through the room.
“To bring up that incident here…”
Several knights stole tentative glances at Likens.
“That case is already closed.”
“Indeed! For all intents and purposes, that matter was a double suicide—”
“Hey, idiot!”
A sharp elbow to the ribs made the speaking knight swallow his words in a hurry.
“So what you are trying to say, Miss Rodi,”
Simone broke in, as if to restore order to the chaotic atmosphere,
“is that a serial killer targeting blonds is currently roaming the capital?”
“Precisely, Dame Gretia.”
“And that Young Duke Joen was also murdered by that killer?”
“Yes.”
“Forgive me, but isn’t this an overinterpretation of the data?”
Skimming the report once more, Simone countered placidly.
“Above all, there is no evidence anywhere that Young Duke Joen was murdered. At the time, no signs of foul play were found on the bodies either.”
“That investigation was fifteen years ago. Furthermore, the corpses had been submerged in a lake for six months.”
Simone fixed her eyes on Rodi.
“…What is it you’re trying to say?”
“It is quite simple.”
Rodi looked directly at Likens.
“I formally request a re-examination of the remains of Young Duke Magzeta and his wife.”
…A tremendous roar of murmurs erupted throughout the conference room.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Miss Rodi.”
As Rodi walked down the corridor after the meeting adjourned, a voice called out to her.
“What in the world are you thinking?”
Turning around, she saw Simone standing there flanked by her followers.
“What do you mean?”
“Why… why dig up an incident from fifteen years ago so out of the blue?”
Simone put on her characteristic look of tender concern.
“To do something so cruel—did you not consider Commander Likens’s feelings at all?”
“As I stated in the meeting, it is to catch a serial killer.”
“It isn’t even a certainty. Besides, does that mean any means are justified for the sake of your goal? That would undoubtedly hurt the commander deeply—”
“What would truly hurt Lord Magzeta is carrying the belief for the rest of his life that his parents abandoned him and committed suicide, wouldn’t it?”
“Even so, to demand that the graves of the commander’s parents be dug up…”
Simone’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“I feel so terribly sorry for him.”
Rodi gave an impassive reply.
“It hasn’t even been decided that we will exhume them. The choice rests with Lord Magzeta.”
Moved by Simone’s crystalline tears, her followers chimed in.
“Proposing to desecrate the graves of the dead—only a villainess could think of such a thing.”
“A serial killer is an absurd delusion. The capital has always been peaceful.”
“As I said before.”
Rodi did not bat an eyelash at their accusations.
“If you wish to dispute my opinion, bring forward concrete data.”
Someone sneered in question.
“And what if your claim is wrong?”
“If I am wrong,”
Rodi arched a corner of her lips,
“I will take responsibility and withdraw from this case entirely.”
“That hardly suffices. You are talking about digging up the graves of Young Duke Magzeta’s parents, no less.”
Crossing her arms, Rodi asked with a cocked eyebrow,
“Then what is it you want?”
“Quite simple.”
One of Simone’s followers puffed up.
“Not only will you withdraw from the investigation, but as a sign of repentance for all your past wickedness…”
He squared his chest and proclaimed,
“You shall kneel before the commander and beg for his forgiveness in front of everyone here!”
Rodi looked at him as though he had lost his mind.
‘Are you a child?’
It was genuinely hard to believe a full-grown adult could think so childishly.
Even worse, Simone merely stood there listening to this infantile scheme.
‘Aren’t you going to stop your lackey? Aren’t you embarrassed?’
…Though she had a mountain of things to say, Rodi swallowed them all.
“Fine by me.”
She offered a relaxed smile.
“If my claim proves false, I will get on my knees and apologize to Lord Magzeta.”
✦ ✦ ✦
‘At least I didn’t show my agitation during the meeting.’
With a grim expression, Likens walked briskly through the corridors of the Magzeta residence.
“…”
His spirits were heavy, his thoughts tangled.
It was only natural, considering he now had to convince his grandfather with his own lips to exhume his parents’ graves.
‘I know it is necessary, but…’
Some things could be comprehended by reason yet remain impossible for the heart to accept.
This was precisely one of those things.
‘Still, it is an unavoidable step.’
Likens came to a sudden halt.
“Phew…”
He released a long sigh into the empty hallway.
He could not let his grandfather see him so shaken.
He was, and had to remain, the ‘perfect’ heir of Magzeta.
Composing his features into an impassive mask once more, Likens knocked on the door of the duke’s study.
“Come in.”
As the low voice answered, Likens turned the doorknob.
William, who had been reviewing papers, looked up with an inquisitive glance.
“Likens, what is it?”
“There is something I must discuss with you.”
Seeing the solemnity etched into his grandson’s face, William set aside his paperwork.
“Speak.”
Likens outlined the situation as objectively and concisely as possible.
Having heard him out, William spoke in a subdued voice.
“So, you are saying we must dig up Joen and Nia’s graves?”
