The custody suite at Eldoria Central Police Headquarters was reserved for informants, vulnerable witnesses, and the occasional criminal who was more valuable alive than dead. Vernon Creech sat in the corner of the small room, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, his eyes fixed on the door with the patient vigilance of a man who had spent three decades waiting for someone to walk through it.
DI Lyall entered alone. DC Mehta watched from behind the one-way mirror, taking notes, but this conversation needed to feel private. Vernon Creech had spent his entire adult life watching other people; he would recognise an audience when he saw one.
"Mr. Creech," Lyall said, taking the seat opposite him. "You asked to speak with me."
"Yes." Vernon's voice was calm, measured, the voice of a man who had rehearsed this conversation a thousand times. "I understand you've been to my house. I understand you've seen my work."
"The surveillance maps. The dossiers. The parabolic microphone in your attic. Yes, we've seen it."
"Then you know I'm not Merlin73."
"I know you're not the current Merlin73. What I don't know is why a disbarred barrister has been spying on his neighbours for thirty years and documenting their every move."
Vernon set down his tea. "I suppose the simplest answer is that I was trying to prove my innocence. When Judge Vane ruled against me in the divorce case, he didn't just take my money and my children. He took my reputation. He took my profession. He took everything that made me who I was. I spent the first five years after the ruling trying to appeal. I spent the next five trying to find evidence that my ex-wife had perjured herself. And I spent the twenty years after that watching and waiting for the system to reveal its corruption."
"By spying on your neighbours?"
"By watching the people connected to Judge Vane. Marcus Aldridge was his protégé. He bought the house on Heatherton Close because it was close to the courthouse. He hosted parties for the legal elite. I moved to Heatherton Close because I wanted to understand how the system protected its own. I wanted to see the faces of the judges and lawyers when they thought no one was looking."
"And what did you see?"
Vernon smiled, a thin expression that held no warmth. "I saw that they were human. Flawed, vain, petty humans who gossiped about each other and complained about their salaries and cheated on their spouses. They weren't monsters. They were just people who had been given too much power and too little accountability. And I saw that the system wasn't a conspiracy. It was worse than that. It was a machine that ground up the vulnerable without even noticing they were there."
"Then why didn't you stop watching? Why keep the surveillance going for thirty years?"
"Because I couldn't stop. It had become... a compulsion. Watching was the only thing that made sense. When I watched, I could see patterns. Connections. The way power flowed from one person to another. The way secrets moved through the neighbourhood like a virus." Vernon leaned forward. "And about a year ago, I saw something that made me very afraid."
"What?"
"I saw Arthur Vance meeting with Judge Aldridge. Late at night, in the park at the end of the street. They were arguing. Arthur was shouting. He said something about 'making things right' and 'paying for what you did.' Aldridge looked terrified. I had never seen a judge look terrified before."
"Did you record this conversation?"
"I tried. But they were too far away, and the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. I only caught fragments. But I knew then that Arthur Vance was dangerous. I knew he was planning something. And I knew that whatever he was planning, it was connected to the Glass House forum."
Lyall studied him. "You knew about the Glass House?"
"I've known about it since Mira created it. I watched her build it from scratch, watched her pour her pain into every post, watched her create the Merlin73 persona to give herself authority she didn't feel. She's not a bad person, Inspector. She's just a broken one. Like all of us."
"You knew she was Merlin73?"
"For the first six months, yes. I recognised her writing style. She used certain phrases that she also used in her emails to the neighbourhood association. And she made mistakes—legal references that were slightly wrong, case citations that didn't quite match. She was trying very hard, but she wasn't a real lawyer."
"And then Arthur Vance took over the account."
"I noticed the change immediately. The writing became sharper, more precise. The legal arguments were suddenly flawless. The rage was still there, but it was controlled, focused. Whoever was writing those posts had years of legal training and decades of accumulated fury. I knew it was Arthur. I had seen him in the park. I had heard him threaten Aldridge. And I had seen his law books in his old study, back when he was still married to Mira."
"Why didn't you come to us then?"
Vernon's expression flickered. "Because I didn't trust the police. I haven't trusted the police since they testified against me in my divorce hearing. And because I didn't have proof. Arthur Vance is clever. He used encryption, proxy servers, anonymous payments. Everything I had was circumstantial. If I had come to you a year ago, you would have dismissed me as a paranoid voyeur with a grudge against the legal system."
Lyall could not argue with that assessment. "So you waited. You watched. You documented."
"I compiled evidence. Every message, every meeting, every connection. I built a case against him the way I would have built a case for a client, back when I was still a lawyer. And I waited for the right moment to present it."
"The right moment was three days ago. After seven people were dead."
Vernon's face crumpled. "I didn't know he was going to kill them. I thought it was going to be a protest. A demonstration. When I saw Helen Garrick tampering with the decanter, I thought she was putting something in the wine that would make people sick, not kill them. By the time I realised what was happening, it was too late."
"You could have called the police the moment you saw her."
"I could have. I should have. I've been asking myself that question every hour since the party. Why didn't I call? Why didn't I stop her? And the answer is..." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The answer is that part of me wanted it to happen. Part of me wanted to see the system suffer. Part of me wanted to watch the parasites choke."
The silence that followed was absolute. Lyall felt the weight of his confession settle over the room like a shroud.
"You're telling me you let seven people die because you wanted revenge."
"I'm telling you I've spent thirty years dreaming of revenge. And when the moment finally came, I discovered that revenge is not satisfying. It's not cathartic. It's just... empty. All that death, all that suffering, and Judge Vane is still alive. Arthur Vance is still free. Nothing has changed."
"Then help me change it. Help me find Arthur Vance before he kills anyone else."
Vernon reached into his jacket and withdrew a memory stick. "This is everything I've gathered. Financial records, encrypted messages, location data. Arthur has been using a network of safe houses across the northern provinces. He moves between them every few days, never staying in one place long enough to be traced. But there's a pattern. He always returns to one location before a major operation."
"What location?"
"An abandoned courthouse in the town of Mirefield. It was decommissioned twelve years ago after a fire. Arthur uses it as a base of operations. He calls it 'the true court,' the place where real justice is served."
"Where in Mirefield?"
"The old industrial quarter, near the river. The building is unmarked, but I have the coordinates."
Lyall took the memory stick. "I'll get a team to Mirefield. But first, I need to know something. The package that was supposed to arrive at the Weston house. The one containing the tetrodotoxin. You redirected it."
Vernon nodded. "I intercepted it before it reached the courier depot. I knew Arthur was planning to frame me. He used Sophie's name on the package, knowing it would draw police attention to the Weston house, and he included evidence that would implicate me as Merlin73. If the package had been delivered, you would have found a vial of the toxin with my fingerprints on it."
"Your fingerprints?"
"I handled the vial after I intercepted it. I was trying to identify the substance. That's when I realised it was the same toxin that killed the Aldridges. Arthur was going to kill me and make it look like a suicide. The remorseful Merlin73, driven to despair by his crimes. It would have been the perfect end to the investigation."
"But you outmanoeuvred him."
"I've been playing chess with Arthur Vance for a year. He's good, but he's not as good as he thinks he is. He underestimated me. He always underestimated me."
Lyall stood up. "Stay here. You'll be placed in protective custody until we've apprehended Arthur Vance. If what you've told me is true, you're the key witness in the biggest murder trial this country has ever seen."
"And if what I've told you isn't true?"
"Then you're the most dangerous liar I've ever met, and you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."
Vernon smiled again, and this time there was something like peace in his expression. "I've spent the last thirty years in a prison of my own making, Inspector. At least this one would have windows."
Lyall left the custody suite and found DC Mehta waiting in the corridor, his tablet clutched to his chest.
"We've verified the Mirefield location. Satellite imagery shows recent activity at the old courthouse—vehicles, lights at night, what looks like a generator. If Arthur Vance is using it as a base, he could be there now."
"What about the flight logs from the corporate retreat? Can we place Arthur at the scene of the Aldridge party?"
"The charter company confirmed the flight. Arthur Vance departed the resort at seventeen hundred hours and returned at twenty-two twenty. The pilot said he was alone and carried a small overnight bag. He was wearing dark clothing and didn't speak during the flight. The pilot thought it was unusual, but the fare was paid in cash."
"Then we have enough to arrest him. Get a warrant for the Mirefield property and coordinate with the northern provinces police. I want tactical units on the ground within the hour."
"And Sophie Weston? Arthur has been sending her anonymous messages for months."
"Bring her in. Protective custody. If Arthur realises we're closing in, he might try to contact her or use her as leverage."
DC Mehta hurried away, and Lyall walked to the incident room, where the whiteboard was now covered with the evidence Vernon Creech had provided. Bank statements, property records, encrypted chat logs. Arthur Vance had built a network that spanned three provinces and included at least a dozen active members. The Glass House was not just a forum; it was an organisation, with cells, safe houses, and a chain of command.
And at the center of it all was a man who had lost everything—his marriage, his career, his daughter—and had decided to burn down the system that had taken it from him.
Lyall's phone buzzed. A text message from an unknown number.
"You're close, Inspector. But you're still looking in the wrong direction. The serpent was never the threat. The serpent was the distraction. While you've been chasing shadows, the real feast has already begun. M."
She stared at the screen, her heart pounding. Merlin73 was still active. Arthur Vance was still sending messages. And if the serpent was a distraction, then what was the real threat?
She pulled up the satellite imagery of the Mirefield courthouse again, studying the layout of the building and the surrounding streets. And then she saw something that made her blood run cold. The old courthouse was adjacent to a water treatment facility that supplied drinking water to half the northern provinces. If Arthur Vance had access to the water supply, he could contaminate an entire region with a single dose of the toxin.
"DC Mehta!" she shouted. "Contact the Mirefield water authority. Tell them to shut down the treatment facility immediately. And get me a hazmat team to the old courthouse. Now!"
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