Edwin, always practical, Charles thought fondly as he watched him. He reached to cover Edwin's hand assaulting the pastry with his, squeezing lightly.

"Yeah, 's gonna be fine," he repeated to drill into Edwin's thick head. "Is there anything I can do? Like, going back, checking some things again? Maybe there could be clues in the house. It was mostly empty, though," he frowned as he remembered. "Aside from that portrait of a dead woman."