Madoka's hand went to his apatite bracelet almost instinctively. He clutched it in his palm, biting his lip. Beside him, Clair mimicked the motion, though her bite drew blood. She lapped it up, eyes unfocused.
Faqir laughed hoarsely, eyes watering but a grin plastered on his face. "Would you believe me if I said it raised the dead?"
Madoka reached out and brushed a hand against Faqir's back. The small gesture seemed to help the boy relax; he took a deep breath.
"Converts anxiety into practical action. Provides balance and strength during times of trouble. Relieves doubt. Geez...maybe that last part worked a bit too well, huh?"
Romano touched Madoka's arm, drawing his attention. With one last look at Eriko's body, Madoka followed Romano out of the room. He and Clair followed the butler to the bar, leaving the others to continue the investigation on their own.
To Madoka's surprise, the barstools were all accounted for.
When did it get back?
Romano stepped forwards, examining the room. He knelt by the barstool that had once been missing, staring at its base. "Master Madoka, remind me. Earlier, you did say the killer had a barstool, did you not? How did you know that?"
"O-oh, right..." Madoka's fingers played with the screws in his pocket. "U-um...it was missing when I got here earlier..."
Romano nodded. "Yes, that seems to make sense--some of the screws are missing. It appears the culprit attempted to put it back, but lost some of the screws."
Madoka's fingers clutched one of the screws. He glanced sideways at Clair, who stared blankly ahead. Her expression was distant, as if she was looking at something that wasn't real. Her body had stiffened, her whole being almost phasing out of reality.
Madoka snapped his fingers near her ear. She shook her head. "C-Clair, what's wrong?"
Clair shook her head. "...Madoka, I-I'm sorry."
Sorry for what? What is she talking about?
"I-it's okay, really. Are you alright?"
"I just..." Clair sighed. "I can't focus today. I-I can't...I'm sorry. I'm trying, it's just...why was she...why?"
Of course. It's the third body we've seen--normal people don't just adjust to that.
Even so, Madoka felt Clair wasn't telling him everything. Romano stood from behind the counter, where he had apparently worked his way around. He held out a piece of glass.
"It appears the killer may have had a spill," he announced. "Master Madoka, if you would be so kind as to check the men's bathroom for further clues. There is a chance they may have gone inside to clean it up."
Madoka nodded, drawing away from Clair. She grabbed suddenly at his wrist, clutching his sleeve in her hand as her eyes stared at the floor. Madoka patted her hand.
"It's okay," he soothed. "I'll be right back, alright?"
She nodded, still unfocused. Her grip loosened, and Madoka headed to the bathroom, swinging open the door.
The first thing he noticed was that the roll of paper towels was significantly smaller than when he had used it earlier. Whoever had been in here last had used an awful lot of them--perhaps to clean a spill, as Romano had suggested.
Aside from that, the bathroom seemed free of clues. Madoka returned to the main part of the bar, settling at one of the clean barstools. Romano examined the stolen one closely.
"There is a somewhat dark stain," he related. "I imagine the killer was unable to clean all of the blood it soaked up."
Clair's eyes flickered towards it. "Are we sure it's blood? It looks a bit like the drink from that spill."
Romano perked up instantly, glancing at her. "And how, pray tell, do you know what the stain from the spilled drink looks like? It had already been cleaned when we arrived."
"W-what?" Clair shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. "I-I didn't, I was just guessing..."
Madoka realized Romano was right--Clair's wording insinuated she had seen the drink before, but there was no sign of the spill when they had arrived beyond the remnants of a shattered bottle. When would she have seen the spill?
A jolt traveled through Madoka as he realized there was only one way.
Clair...please, don't...you wouldn't...
He had to be wrong. Somehow, they had to be wrong.
Romano didn't look convinced, but he didn't press Clair for more information. As he continued to move around the bar to search for clues, Madoka's eyes searched Clair's face for any hint of emotion.
Not a single one was reflected in her eyes--it was like she was dead.
Swallowing, Madoka tried not to focus on the upcoming trial. Something was going to go terribly wrong.
He just hoped it wouldn't happen to Clair.