"Einar and I arrived early at Mr. Braginsky's house," Søren narrated, trying his best to speak so the Norwegians could understand, "but he didn't mind. He just smiled and ushered us in, as if we'd arrived just on time, and told us to make ourselves at home. Einar introduced me to him, and we had a short conversation about how attached we are to our home country. He liked it here, but he wanted to go visit Russia again soon. You know, things like that.

"We were served some fine wine, and I'm not going to lie: it was delicious and we probably had a little too much of it too quick." He offered an apologetic grin. "It didn't take long for the rest of the guests to arrive, although Mr. Braginsky complained about this one person who was always late, and probably wouldn't be there for a couple of hours. At that point I was slightly tipsy, and so was Einar, by the looks of it. I mean, his face was flushed red, which usually indicates he's had a few too many.

"Normally I wouldn't have batted an eyelid at the fact that Einar had become intoxicated. Hell, I've seen him drunk off his arse with his face in a cactus, singing a love song for the one who got away, or something." Einar didn't cut him off, despite the embarrassment of his alcoholic adventure. Søren continued. "But I'll be damned if he gets drunk beyond compare after a couple of glasses of wine. That just doesn't happen. He's got the stomach of a concrete elephant!

"And yet, there he was, having stood up from his chair, waddling towards the nearest bottle of wine and upending it into his glass. I thought to myself, 'Thank goodness he didn't drink straight from the bottle!'. Although he did act like he was addicted to alcohol at that point, he had managed to remain perfectly polite in his attitude. He chatted with them about everything and nothing, which is strange because usually he can't abide small-talk.

"But he kept this up. He flattered the women, complimenting them on their hair and dresses, and they, as usual, were pretty taken with him. He had longer conversations with the men, about something I couldn't quite catch; they spoke too quickly. I wouldn't have thought anything was out of the ordinary if it hadn't been for the fact that I suddenly noticed that Einar looked exhausted. He looked dead tired, and I knew it was just a matter of time before he'd want to leave the place and go home.

"After an hour or so, the last person arrived, much to Mr. Braginsky's delight, and Einar's, too, it seemed. As soon as the last guest had gotten himself comfortable, Einar carefully hit his glass with a spoon, gathering everyone's attention. 'A speech?' I wondered. 'What on earth would make him hold a speech? This wasn't a special occasion, was it?'

"'Let me tell you,' he said, 'how much I appreciate you all.' The guests and Mr. Braginsky perked up a little and chuckled approvingly.

"'I am not an old man,' he said. 'But I feel I have lived a long life. I have travelled far away from my home country, and, I assume, so have you, Ivan. That's nice. Travelling is fun. At least it was back when I was a teenager. Oh, boy, was it fun.' Then he paused for a moment, as if trying to remember what he was going to say. 'Oh, yes. I have known you for a long time. Not only you, Ivan, but also most of your guests. I have known your sisters, both of them, and despite the fact they're uncomfortable in my country, they are nice girls. Your older sister, especially. Your younger sister, not so much.'

"At that point I was certain Mr. Braginsky was going to be angry with him, but in stead he just nodded his head in shameful agreement, and reluctantly he let Einar continue. 'I have gotten to know many people. I'm not very social, but despite this I have gotten to know many people. What I have learned from this is that people are revolting. People are annoying. They are scum, they are hypocritical, they betray you, they abuse you, they murder and steal and pillage, and once you find someone who isn't that annoying, they go and die on you. Just like that. No words, no final good-bye, just death, the end.'

"He took another pause, sighing. 'I will be going on a journey,' he said, his voice calm and quiet; some of the guests had to come closer to hear what he had to say. 'I'm going to travel again. Travelling is fun. It doesn't rely on meeting people. It relies on you, and you alone. Mostly. And since I will leave soon, I wish to say my good-byes to you, Ivan, and all my friends here in this room. The reason being that I don't plan on returning, so tonight might be the last time you see me.'"

Søren looked over at Einar, as if asking for permission to continue. Einar's eyes were void of emotion. "Continue," he said.

The Dane took a deep breath. "What he told Mr. Braginsky and his guests was... it was as if he hit them with every insult he had gathered up during the time he had known them. Even the pettiest little detail was uttered in disgust, and it surprised me that none of them left the room to avoid having to listen to it. It was as if they told themselves they could handle it, that they were better than that, that Einar's words did no harm. But it was clear by the time Einar had stopped everyone felt hurt, most of all Mr. Braginsky. He marched up to Einar, asked him if he was done talking, and when Einar nodded he grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the front door. I ran after them, certain I was no longer welcome either.

"By the door Mr. Braginsky glared at me, and I was shocked to see that the well-respected man's eyes were full of tears. I couldn't find anything to say, so I just walked past him and out the door, which was slammed shut shortly after. I looked for Einar, and I saw him leaning against the fence, trying not to fall over.

"I tried not to mention what he had just done, as I supported him on our way back home. In stead I tried to keep our spirits up, because, well, I thought that, Einar was still my friend. He still is. And as his friend it is my duty to get him off the streets and back into his own home so that he doesn't end up dead by the—" He interrupted himself with a squeak. "Sorry. As I said, I had to support him, because he was completely legless. You saw that when we returned, didn't you, Berwald?"

Berwald was startled out of his trance once he heard his name, but nodded in affirmation.

"And from that point," Søren continued, "I put Einar to bed, made sure he would stay there and not wander around like a rebellious, drunk toddler, and then I went to sleep in my own bed." He shrugged, looking up at the policeman. "Before I knew it there was a knock on my door and somebody had died in the yard."

The policeman shot Einar a look. "Is this true?"

"As far as I remember," Einar muttered, "this is completely true."

"What did you mean by the things you said at Mr. Braginsky's?"

The master of the house offered a weary shrug. "I do remember saying them, but I am unable to remember why."

The policeman gave him a curt look. "Is that true?"

Einar nodded.

"Who were sleeping at this point?" continued the policeman, turning to the others in the room.

Alma and Ester raised their hands. Tino hesitated before he, too, raised his. "I was almost asleep, if that counts," he said nervously.

The policeman gave Berwald and Lovise a quick look each. "Would you like to continue from where Mr. Strand and his guest returned home?"

It was very late, or possibly very early, and Berwald would much rather go to bed and forget about everything. His weariness would prevent him from speaking properly, which he usually did around the authorities and gentlemen like Einar and Mr. Kierkegaard. "They r'turn'd earlier than 'xpected," he said, trying to enunciate clearly enough for everyone to understand. "Both were drunk. They went straight t' bed, 'n so did I. Didn't see anythin' unusual."

The policeman scribbled down his notes rapidly, which were probably unreadable to anyone but himself. He then looked back at Berwald with a suspicious look. He pointed his pencil at him. "What happened to your hand there?"

In all honesty Berwald had forgotten all about the bite mark he had given himself not too long ago. His hand was now decorated with a perfect row of red marks, which could have passed for an eccentric person's tattoo. But Berwald wasn't an eccentric person; he couldn't afford to be.

"'S nothin'," he said, sounding a bit defensive. He decided to elaborate. "I... bite m'self wh'never 'm—" trying to keep myself from groaning with delight whenever Tino is ramming his cock up against my prostate "—wh'never 'm stressed." He averted his eyes, as if ashamed.

"It's true." Berwald was surprised to hear his master account for his lie. "He thinks I haven't noticed, but I've seen him gnawing on his fist every now and then, when he's got too much to do and not enough time. Or if I have insufferable guests over," he added, gesturing feebly at Mr. Kierkegaard, who offered an apologetic smirk. "I'm actually surprised he thinks he can keep it a secret, since it keeps turning that vibrant shade of red."

Berwald looked at his master, curious. Not that the curiosity showed in his face, as he was fully capable of keeping a straight face whenever necessary—and often when it was unnecessary.

With a dismissive wave with his hand, the policeman decided to turn to Lovise, who was desperately trying to keep her eyes open. She had closed her eyes a few times during the questioning, but she kept waking up with a jerk and a snort whenever someone raised their voice.

"Me?" she asked, slurring. "You've heard my story already."

The policeman was impatient. "Let's just have it one more time."

The maid sighed, but Einar gave her a quick look, and she straightened her back. She took a deep breath before beginning. "I heard that Mr. Strand and Mr. Kierkegaard had come home," she informed, "and by then I was in the kitchen looking for something to eat. I had had dinner earlier that night, but look at me; I didn't become this size for no reason, you know. And I was hungry.

"When I heard them come home I ran out of the kitchen to hide, in case they came in and found me eating out the pantry. I'm sorry, Mr. Strand," she added, looking apologetically at Einar, who gave her a short nod; she was forgiven, but he was going to talk to her about it later. "So I went to the bathroom and decided to clean the bath tub," she continued. "I did that, and I cleaned a little more, and before I knew it it was late.

"I went back to the kitchen to discard what was left of my nibblies, and once I was there I happened to glance out of the window. And there was Mr. Braginsky, on his face, and I thought he'd gotten drunk and fallen asleep. I went out to him to wake him up, but when he didn't wake up I panicked and went upstairs to Berwald and Tino's room, quietly so I wouldn't wake Mr. Strand, and I got them to help me out.

"Then Tino ran to get the police," she said finally.

The policeman nodded. "You did something while Mr. Tino came to get us, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Lovise looked nonplussed for a moment before she realised what he was talking about. "Yes. Berwald and I took the body in, because we didn't know what else to do. The neighbours could have seen it, and we just... we just thought it didn't feel right to leave him outside." She shuddered uncomfortably at the memory.

"That's all, is it?" asked the policeman.

"Yes."

The house's recidents remained quiet while the policeman looked through his notes. He was frowning, concentrating on what he had written down so far; probably trying to decipher his own handwriting, Berwald thought to himself.

"Good," said the policeman, with the air of someone finishing up a project. "If that's all you've got to tell me, then I shall go. I will contact you if we need further details. Don't leave the city," he added sternly, looking at Einar, who looked blankly back at him. "I don't know when you're planning on taking this vacation of yours, but if you leave within the next week it will seem suspicious. Capiche?"

"Certainly, sir," said Einar. He stood up, shuffled over to the policeman and shook his hand. "Hopefully this is all just an unfortunate accident."

The incident had caused them all to be rather on edge, and although Einar had told his staff to go back to sleep, few of them were able to sleep for long without waking up from an uncomfortable dream of some sort.

Berwald did get some sleep, though, and he was grateful for that. He got just enough to be able to get out of the bed the next morning and get ready for whatever the day had in store for him.

Tino, possibly even more tired than Berwald, offered his best tired, comforting grin, and placed a soft kiss on Berwald's cheek, as if to encourage him to go on as if everything was normal.

"You need a bath," Tino murmured tiredly.

Berwald snorted in amusement. "I'll take one t'night. D's that please m'lord?"

A grin spread across Tino's face. Then they proceded to return to their daily chores, if ever so reluctantly.