Dawn does not make people honest.
It only makes them tired.
I knew that fact very well.
Someone who has stayed up all night does not become more truthful than usual. They simply break more easily than usual.
Anger grows shorter, fear grows deeper, and words grow harsher.
So it was no coincidence that the interrogation had been scheduled for nine in the morning.
A method of putting people on their feet at the hour when they look their most composed, while they are at their least composed.
A truly diligent sort of terrible schedule.
The door to the First Public Lecture Hall was still open.
The sentences we had written through the night remained on the blackboard.
“Do not answer statements that are not questions.”
“I was unable to verify it. I will answer within my scope.”
“The previous person’s answer is not mine.”
And at the very bottom, the message in blue chalk had not been erased either.
“Good students prepare in advance.”
I looked at that sentence one last time.
Good students.
I really hated those words.
Now we were heading to the interrogation room.
To the testing ground they had created.
Martin Gray organized the provisional records and placed them in envelopes.
Clarisse Rain stamped those envelopes with temporary seals.
She did not yet have the authority to render an official judgment, but she could provide procedural guidance and preserve the records.
For some reason, watching her do exactly what she could do was reassuring.
"It is time for the candidates to proceed."
An Archives Office assistant spoke.
The four girls did not move at once.
Each checked her own envelope.
Small envelopes containing their personal grounding statements.
They had been sealed in a manner that would leave evidence if opened.
Eveline held hers instead of a handkerchief.
Liana cupped hers in both hands.
Seria checked the seal line with her fingertips.
Adela examined the wax impression on her envelope once more.
Adela would be first.
I looked at her.
"Lady Adela Carmion."
"Yes."
"You will go in first. There will be no prior answers. Instead, they will ask you to predict the answers of those who come after you."
"I expect as much."
Her voice was calm.
So calm that it worried me instead.
Adela was the sort of person who became calmer when she was shaken.
And in that state, she judged people.
I said,
"Look at the objects. Look at people later."
Adela looked at me for a moment.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"That is not a bad sentence."
"I’ll take it as a compliment."
"It is a compliment."
Eveline spoke quietly.
"Wow. You’re not talking about the coat today."
Adela looked at Eveline.
"It is the day of the interrogation. There are priorities."
"Which means you’ll bring it up later."
"Yes."
Liana let out a tiny laugh.
Seria lowered her head slightly as well.
A brief laugh.
But it was necessary.
Before entering an interrogation room, a person needs to breathe.
Laughter is breathing too.
A Secretariat employee appeared at the end of the corridor.
"Candidate Adela Carmion. Please enter."
Adela dipped her head.
Then she did not look back.
Good.
She did not look at me.
Nor did she look at the other three.
She slipped her envelope inside her sleeve and walked away.
Her pace was steady.
The door closed.
From that moment onward, we knew nothing.
The interrogation room had been made by temporarily converting the Second Ceremonial Reception Room.
According to the layout I learned of later, the interrogator’s desk was at the front, the official recorder’s desk was on the right, and the physical evidence table was on the left.
The candidate sat alone in the center.
There were observation seats in the back.
Kaiden and Arsene sat in the observation seats.
I was assigned not to the candidate’s support seat, but to a separate witness seat.
Behind and diagonal to the candidate, where our eyes could not meet.
Adela could not see me.
Nor could I see her face head-on.
That was necessary.
But necessity did not make it any less uncomfortable.
The interrogator belonged to the Secretariat.
His name was Barkhan Dello.
He was a man with a gaunt face and silver-rimmed glasses.
He did not smile.
Good interrogators do not smile.
Bad interrogators do not smile either.
That made them harder to distinguish.
The recorder was a young woman whose nameplate read Elma Roth.
Martin was not an official recorder, so he could not enter the interrogation room.
He was responsible for keeping records while waiting outside.
Clarisse had been classified as an interested party and could only sit in the procedural advisory seat.
She would not make judgments.
She could speak only when asked to do so.
Once everyone was seated, Interrogator Barkhan spoke.
"Candidate Adela Carmion. This is a preliminary interrogation for temporary admission, a procedure intended to confirm your eligibility and the scope of your statements concerning the recent incident. Do you understand?"
Adela answered.
"I understand."
"You became involved in the incident as an advisor on dress and ceremonial standards. Is that correct?"
"I will answer within my scope. At the Archives Office’s request, I advised on the sartorial characteristics of clues resembling cathedral official vestments. Describing that as involvement in the entire incident is too broad."
Good.
She limited the scope from her very first answer.
Barkhan looked at the recorder.
"Record that the candidate minimized her involvement in the incident."
Adela spoke immediately.
"I request a correction."
The air in the interrogation room shifted slightly.
Barkhan looked at her.
"What are you correcting?"
"I did not minimize anything. I clarified the scope. ‘Involvement in the incident’ and ‘advising on dress’ are not the same expression. Please record my statement exactly as I gave it."
Good.
Very good.
Elma’s pen stopped.
She looked at the interrogator.
Barkhan fell silent for a moment.
Kaiden did not move in the observation seats.
Neither did Arsene speak.
Barkhan said,
"Record her statement exactly as given."
The first small victory.
She had not let them take control of the record.
A system window appeared.
[Adela Carmion: Successfully Corrected First Record Distortion]
[Interrogation Adaptability Increased]
Barkhan pulled the cloth off the evidence table.
Beneath it was a piece of white fabric.
Silver embroidery and part of a sleeve cuff.
Adela’s eyes turned toward it.
She looked at the object before the person.
Good.
Barkhan said,
"Look at this scrap of fabric. It is presumed to be from a disguised cathedral official sleeve. Give your judgment as a dress advisor. Is it connected to the Saint Candidate observation uniform?"
A trap.
The source of the evidence came first.
If she did not know where it had been found, who had preserved it, or whether it might have been contaminated, the scope of her judgment was limited.
Adela looked at the fabric.
She did not approach it.
"I would first confirm the source of the evidence and its preservation procedure."
Barkhan said,
"Answer the question."
"That is a prerequisite to answering it. Unless it is confirmed when, where, and by whom the fabric was found, and how it was preserved, I cannot speak beyond sartorial similarities."
Good.
Barkhan lightly tapped the desk with his pen.
"Then is there a similarity?"
Adela was silent for a moment.
"There is. The white base, silver embroidery, and sleeve width appear intended to evoke cathedral official vestments. However, I cannot say that it is identical to a Saint Candidate observation uniform. The embroidery density and edge finishing differ."
The recorder wrote it down.
Barkhan asked,
"Then can you say it has no connection to the cathedral officials?"
"No."
The interrogator’s eyes glinted ever so slightly.
Adela continued.
"There is insufficient material to say it is unrelated. There is also insufficient material to say it is related. All I can say at present is that it is a scrap of fabric imitating the image of cathedral official vestments."
Good.
She held the line between related and unrelated.
That was difficult.
People demand one or the other.
Interrogations are especially like that.
A system window appeared.
[Adela Carmion: Successfully Limited Scope of Physical Evidence]
[Risk of Direct Connection to Liana Bell Temporarily Decreased]
Barkhan turned a page.
"Candidate Adela Carmion. Yesterday, you said Candidate Liana Bell’s observation uniform was unsuitable for committing a crime. Is that correct?"
Adela’s fingertips moved ever so slightly.
It was neither praise nor an attack.
It was a review, bringing up her previous words again.
Review.
The second sentence in blue chalk.
Good students review.
Adela said,
"That is not the exact sentence. I said Candidate Bell’s observation uniform was too bright, had sleeves that were too long, and was likely to touch the inside of a goblet, making it unsuitable for a covert crime."
"Was that not a defense of Candidate Bell?"
"I spoke of the garment’s function. I did not speak for the person’s innocence."
Good.
Barkhan asked again.
"Then if Candidate Bell had worn different clothes, would it have been possible?"
Ah.
This was dangerous.
If she said, “It would be possible in different clothes,” she would attach fresh suspicion to Liana.
If she said, “It would be impossible,” it would amount to speaking in Liana’s defense.
Adela did not touch her envelope.
She kept her fingertips still on the desk.
"Anyone’s range of possible actions changes when they wear different clothes. That answer is a general discussion of clothing function, not a judgment about Candidate Bell personally. Do not record it as the possibility of a specific candidate."
The recorder’s pen stopped.
Barkhan’s voice lowered.
"Are you instructing us on how to keep records now?"
"It is not an instruction but a request for correction. If my statement is condensed into the possibility of a specific candidate, its meaning changes."
Good.
She was holding out remarkably well.
Arsene did not speak from the observation seats.
The fact that he said nothing made me more uneasy.
Arsene was watching Adela’s answers now.
Her answer would affect Liana, who came after her.
But Adela was not speaking for Liana.
This time, Barkhan changed direction.
"Candidate Carmion is quite capable."
There it was.
Praise.
The most dangerous kind of praise.
Adela’s eyes wavered slightly.
She did not dislike praise.
No. More accurately, she had been trained for a long time to seek recognition for her own competence.
The daughter of the Count’s House of Carmion.
A person who had to prove her usefulness in high society.
Praise made her speak more.
And once she spoke more, she judged people too.
Barkhan continued smoothly.
"With insight like yours, surely you can guess which of the candidates would be most likely to handle a disguised sleeve?"
A good trap.
He had followed praise with an evaluation of people.
Adela was silent for a moment.
It was not long.
But it felt long.
She said,
"That evaluation is not the subject of this interrogation. Please change it to an examinable matter."
Good.
Barkhan did not smile.
"Then I will ask about an examinable matter. What knowledge would be required to make a disguised sleeve?"
"Knowledge of the appearance of cathedral official vestments, embroidery direction, sleeve width, and fastening structure would be needed. However, the fastening direction and finishing of this fabric scrap are inaccurate. Therefore, the maker may be someone who saw the vestments’ outward appearance, or someone with only partial knowledge, rather than someone who fully understands cathedral official vestments."
"Is that partial knowledge also taught in the social preparatory class?"
Adela’s eyes stilled slightly.
It had come back to her.
The social preparatory class.
Adela’s domain.
If she said the social preparatory class made it possible too, she herself would fall within the scope of suspicion.
If she said no, it could be a lie.
Adela said,
"It is taught."
The interrogation room fell quiet.
"In the social preparatory class, we learn the silhouettes of formalwear, house crests, and colors prohibited for each event. We do not study the ceremonial movements of cathedral official vestments in depth, but we can acquire enough knowledge to imitate their outward appearance."
She had offered up a fact unfavorable to herself.
Good.
It hurt, but it was good.
Barkhan asked,
"Then could you make it as well?"
Silence.
Adela answered.
"In theory, there is some possibility. However, whether I actually made it must be confirmed through my skill with my hands, access to materials, and records of time and place. My knowledge alone cannot establish that I made it."
Good.
She had included herself in the scope.
But she did not let them make a conclusion.
A system window appeared.
[Adela Carmion: Acknowledged the Possibility of Self-Disadvantage]
[Risk of Social Condemnation Decreased]
[Evidence-Centered Answers Maintained]
Barkhan watched her for a while.
By now, rather than trying to break Adela, he was likely looking for a way to use her.
He placed a small glove next to the fabric scrap.
A black glove.
One button was missing near the wrist.
Though this was an interrogation room rather than a lecture hall, Martin’s voice from last night came back to me.
A black glove.
One missing wrist button.
Touching the lower right corner of the bulletin board.
Barkhan said,
"This glove was found behind the Third Public Lecture Hall at dawn today. Candidate Carmion, advise us."
Adela looked at the glove.
"I would confirm the preservation procedure."
Barkhan’s lips hardened.
"You keep repeating yourself."
"It is a necessary repetition."
Good.
Adela was starting to be tiresome.
People who are genuinely tiresome live longer.
The recorder read out the record of the glove’s discovery.
Six twelve in the morning.
Behind the Third Public Lecture Hall.
Found by a Secretariat assistant.
Preserved in a paper envelope.
Officially sealed.
After hearing the record, Adela said,
"The missing wrist button is consistent with Candidate Martin Gray’s eyewitness account. However, to conclude that this is the same glove, we would need to verify the fibers, dust, signs of wear, hand size, and the remaining matching glove."
Barkhan asked,
"Is the wearer male or female?"
"That cannot be determined from the glove alone. Based on its size, it could belong either to a small man or a woman with large hands."
"A noble candidate or a servant?"
"The glove is of middling quality. It is ordinary for a noble to wear personally, and slightly too expensive for an ordinary servant. Assistants, senior servants, academic aides, and Secretariat staff are all within the possible range."
Academic aides.
Secretariat staff.
The words had appeared again.
Barkhan remained expressionless.
But the recorder’s pen slowed ever so slightly.
Adela must have seen it.
But she said nothing.
Do not look at people first.
Look at the objects first.
She pointed to the end of the glove.
"However, we should check whether blue chalk dust remains on the inside of the glove’s wrist. It can be compared with the dust from the cards and the messages in the lecture hall."
Barkhan said,
"The Secretariat will conduct that verification."
Adela immediately said,
"Verification by the Secretariat alone would be inappropriate. Since Secretariat documents and the contamination message are part of the sequence of this incident, the Archives Office or an external audit must be present."
Silence.
Strong.
That answer had teeth.
In front of a Secretariat interrogator, she had said a Secretariat-only verification would be inappropriate.
Barkhan’s eyes turned cold.
"Do you suspect the Secretariat?"
A trap.
Adela answered.
"I did not say I suspected them. I said there was a conflict of interest."
Good.
"This interrogation also began with a Secretariat document. Therefore, external attendance is necessary in verifying a glove found by the Secretariat. This is not a statement that establishes malice on the Secretariat’s part. It is a matter of procedural independence."
Kaiden’s eyes brightened slightly.
For the first time, Arsene shifted his posture as well.
Elma’s pen moved.
A system window appeared.
[Adela Carmion: Successfully Identified the Secretariat’s Conflict of Interest]
[Independent Verification of the Glove Clue Requested]
[The Investigative Focus of the Educational Pressure Incident Expands to the Secretariat.]
Barkhan was silent for a moment.
Then he said,
"Candidate Adela Carmion. One final question."
Adela straightened her posture.
"I will answer."
"You have said until now that you would look at objects. Does that mean you intend to bear no responsibility at all for people?"
The question was unexpectedly honest.
And dangerous at the same time.
Adela had said she would look at people later.
But if she did not look at people at all, physical evidence would become a cold tool for cutting people down.
That was connected to Adela’s ruin route.
The fake dress incident.
She had ruined people with an object, and in the end, an object had ruined her.
Adela was silent for a long time.
This time, it was long.
I could not see her face head-on.
But I could see her fingertips.
The fingertips resting on the desk.
They were tense.
She said,
"That does not mean I will bear no responsibility."
Her voice was low.
"It means I will delay judgment of people. I look at objects first so that I do not ruin people too quickly. If I use objects as an excuse to ruin people, that is not advising. It is a social attack."
The interrogation room fell silent.
Adela added,
"Therefore, this is the limit of my answer. I can speak of the scope of verification for this glove and fabric scrap. I cannot speak of a person’s guilt."
Good.
Truly good.
A system window appeared.
[Adela Carmion: Passed Critical Branch]
[Entry into the Social Attack Route Greatly Delayed]
[First Individual Interrogation: Conditional Pass]
Barkhan looked at the recorder.
"First interrogation concluded."
The recorder wrote.
"Candidate Adela Carmion. You may leave."
Adela stood.
She dipped her head.
And she did not look at me.
Not until the very end.
The door opened.
She walked outside.
From the witness seat, I let out a breath very slowly.
The first one had held out.
But the first person’s answers could become blades for the three who followed.
The Secretariat’s conflict of interest.
Independent verification of the glove.
The clue resembling cathedral official vestments.
The possibility of knowledge from the social preparatory class.
Adela had done well.
Which made it more dangerous.
A good answer sometimes becomes the next person’s question.
And next was Liana Bell.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register