The detective turns the knob and nudges inward on the shelf with her shoulder; the entrance to the butler’s quarters opens easily before her like a wide, gaping mouth. She thinks about the protagonists in horror movies, always merging straight ahead into darkness, going against human nature and natural instinct.

But cops are taught to do this every day. Run toward the gunman, step into the shootout, put yourself in harm’s way…

She steps into the dark opening in the pantry and shines her light around.

A tightly wound staircase ascends above her, revealing her theory was right. Tinsley had probably discovered, or already knew about, this secret servants’ wing of the house.

The detective climbs the twisty stairs, holding her light up with one hand, swatting at a few loose cobwebs with the other. She’s not afraid of many things, but she detests small creatures with many legs. Spiders are the worst, followed closely by those alien-like centipedes.

At the very top of the staircase, she shivers, wishing she had turned the breaker back on before venturing into this unknown, and possibly unsafe, part of the house. Who knew how long it had been since these quarters were used?

The detective has a bad habit of playing out every scenario in times of danger, her mind drifting to the darkest places. She imagines what would happen if the stairs collapsed and she fell, if not to her death than to a fate of broken bones in the very least. How long would it be until her assistant or one of the technicians returned and found her?

She pushes herself forward, hyper-focused on the task in hand.

The top landing opens into a single room, but it is a large one, housing several sinks and rows of cabinetry; in one corner, there is an antique wardrobe and wrought-iron bed. This was definitely where the head butler or maid slept back in the day, she realized.

The cabinets reveal very little—mothballs and mouse turds, a couple of old cans of paint and cleaners. But the wardrobe tells a different story.

Inside, the detective finds modern clothing. Plain blouses on wire hangers and neatly folded stacks of pants. Someone has been hiding in the servants’ quarters…

Below the stack of neat pants, she finds a box—inside is a wet and dirty pair of pants and a shirt that appears to be stained with blood.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Interview: Suspect #3

“Let me get straight to the point. Why did you hide bloody clothes in the butler’s chambers? You had to know we would eventually find them, and your DNA is probably all over them. It’s only a matter of a time before we know the truth…” the detective warned.

Tinsley was shaking, her shoulders and hands quivering uncontrollably behind the interrogation table. But when the detective asked that question, about the butler’s chamber, her demeanor completely changed.