Tingen City, 2nd Street of Narcissus Garden.
Klein, who had left a note, locked the door and hurriedly walked towards Leonard Mitchell, who was waiting by the roadside.
Leonard's short black hair was a bit longer than last month and was unkempt, looking very messy.
But even so, with his good looks, emerald-like eyes and poet-like temperament, there was still an unconventional charm.
Sure enough, any hairstyle depends on the face... Klein subconsciously quipped, pointing towards the direction of Iron Cross Street:
"Frei is waiting for us over there?"
"Yes." Leonard straightened out the shirt that had not been tucked in, seemingly casually asking, "Have you found any clues from the materials?"
Klein held a walking stick in his left hand and walked along the edge of the street:
"There aren't any. Whether it's the method of death or the time of death, I can't find any patterns. You know, for rituals involving the evil god or demons, they must be coordinated with a specific time or a particular way."
Leonard touched the special revolver hidden in his waistband and under his shirt, chuckling softly:
"It's not absolute. In my experience, some evil gods or demons are very easily satisfied. As long as He shows a strong interest in the following matters."
"And these death incidents definitely have a considerable portion that is normal. We must exclude them to get the correct answer."
Klein glanced at him and said:
"So the captain made us re-examine to rule out normal events."
"Leonard, your tone and description tell me that you have ample experience in this area. But you have been a night watchman for less than four years. On average, you encounter no more than two extraordinary cases per month, and most of them are simple and easy to solve."
He always thought that Leonard Mitchell, his teammate, was strange and mysterious. Not only did he constantly doubt himself, believing himself to be special, but he was also sometimes arrogant, sometimes self-important, sometimes frivolous, and sometimes profound.
Could he have had an encounter? Could there be an encounter that made him feel like the protagonist of a drama? Klein, using his rich knowledge from movies, novels, and TV series, made a rough speculation.
When he heard his question, Leonard smiled and said:
"This is because you haven't officially entered the state of a night watchman yet. You are still in the training stage."
"The Sanctuary will compile the extraordinary cases encountered by each parish and each church every six months into books, and depending on the level of confidentiality, certain deletions will be made in different versions, and then distributed to each member."
"Besides the mysticism course, you can apply to the captain to enter the Charnis Gate and borrow the previous case books."
Klein nodded in realization:
"The captain has never reminded me of this matter."
Up to now, he still hasn't had the opportunity to enter the Charnis Gate.
Leonard chuckled softly:
"I thought you had gotten used to the captain's style, but I didn't expect you to naively expect him to remind you."
At this point, he added meaningfully: "If one day the captain remembers everything and doesn't forget anything, then we might need to be more vigilant."
Does this mean a loss of control? Klein solemnly nodded and then asked:
"Is this the captain's unique style? I thought it was a problem attached to the 'Waker' sequence..."
Sleeping late causing memory decline and so on...
"Exactly, it's the unique style of 'Dreams'. Reality and dreams interweave, often making it difficult to distinguish what is real and what is false. Remember, which to keep in mind and which to forget, don't put it in your mind..."
Leonard wanted to say something more, but the two had already entered Iron Cross Street and saw "the undertaker" Frei waiting at the streetcar stop for them. Fry wore a black round-brimmed felt hat, was dressed in a thin windbreaker of the same color, and was carrying a suitcase. His pale complexion made one wonder if he would suddenly fall ill and collapse at any moment. The cold and gloomy air made the people waiting for the bus nearby all move away from him.
After nodding to each other, the three remained silent and gathered together, crossing "Slin Bakery" and turning down the side street of Iron Cross.
The hustle and bustle immediately hit them, and the street vendors shouting about oyster soup, fried meat and fish, ginger beer and fruits made the passers-by involuntarily slow down.
It was already around five o'clock, and many people had returned to Iron Cross Street. The two flanks of road began to become crowded, and some children mixed in, looking coldly at all this and staring at all the pockets.
Klein often came here to buy cheap cooked food. He used to live in an apartment nearby and was quite familiar with the situation here. So he spoke up and warned:
"Be careful of thieves."
Leonard smiled and said, "Don't worry about it."
He pulled his shirt and adjusted the gun bag, exposing the revolver on his waist.
Suddenly, the gazes fixed on him all shifted away, and the surrounding pedestrians also unconsciously made way.
... Klein was stunned for a moment, then he quickened his pace to follow Leonard and Fry, lowering his head to prevent any acquaintances from noticing him.
—Benson and Melissa still maintained contact with some of their former neighbors, as they hadn't moved too far.
Passing through the area with numerous street vendors, the three of them entered the true Iron Cross Suburb Street.
The passers-by here were dressed in old and tattered clothes, showing both vigilance and greed upon the appearance of the strange and shiny newcomers, as if they were vultures staring at rotten food, ready to attack at any moment. But Leonard's revolver effectively prevented any unexpected incidents.
"We'll start the investigation from the death incident last night, starting with Mrs. Lawvis who made the matchboxes," Leonard flipped through the documents and pointed to the distance, "134th Street, 1st floor..."
As the three of them moved forward, the ragged children playing nearby quickly hid to the side, staring at them with blank, curious, and frightened eyes.
"Look at their arms and legs, they're like matchsticks," Leonard sighed, leading the way into the three-story 134th Street.
Various mixed odors of gases immediately entered Klein's nostrils. He could vaguely distinguish the stench of urine, sweat, damp mold, and the smell of burning coal and wood.
Unable to resist, he raised his hand to cover his nose. Klein saw Betsy Monbatton waiting here.
The police chief in charge of the surrounding neighborhood had brownish-yellow whiskers and was full of flattery towards Leonard, who had revealed his inspector status.
"Sir, I've asked Lawvis to wait in the room," Betsy Monbatton chuckled in a slightly shrill, unique voice.
He clearly didn't recognize the much more composed and decent Klein, only focused on pleasing the three officers, leading them into Lawvis' house on the first floor.
This was a single-room house, with the innermost part facing the two-tier high bed, the right side was a table with glue, paper, and other items, and in the corner, there were baskets filled with matchboxes, the left side was a tattered cabinet, storing clothes and tableware.
On both sides of the door were stoves, toilets, and a small amount of coal and wood, and in the central position were two dirty mattresses, a man was wrapped in a torn blanket and was snoring loudly, making it almost impossible to get down on them.
On the lower bunk of the high bed, a woman was lying there, her skin cold and gloomy, clearly having lost all life.
Beside the corpse, there sat a greasy and disheveled man in his thirties, his expression was listless, and his eyes lacked vitality.
"Lawvis, these three officers are here to inspect the body and ask you some questions," Betsy Monbatton shouted loudly, completely ignoring that there were still people sleeping on the ground.
The listless man raised his head weakly and asked in surprise:
"Didn't we inspect and ask questions this morning?"
He was wearing a gray-blue worker's uniform with many patched areas.
"Just answer if you're asked, there aren't so many questions!" Betsy Monbatton scolded the man harshly and then smiled at Leonard, Klein, and Fry, "Sir, that's Lawvis, his wife is on the bed, the deceased. After our preliminary examination, she died of a sudden illness."
Klein and the others tiptoed through the gaps between the mattresses to the bedside.
Fry, with his thin nose and cold demeanor, said nothing, only gently patted Lawvis and signaled him to move aside to facilitate his inspection of the body.
Klein looked at the sleeping man on the ground and asked in confusion:
"Who is this?"
"I, my tenant," Lawvis scratched his head and said, "This room costs 3 shillings and 10 pence per week. I'm just a dockworker, my wife makes 2 and a quarter pence by making 100 matchboxes, 100, yes, more than 130 boxes, we, we have children, I can only rent out the spare space to others. One mattress costs 1 shilling per week..." "I have a tenant who helps set up the scenery at the theater. He won't rest until 10 p.m. So I sold the right to use the floor bed to this guy. This gentleman is the one who guards the theater gate at night. Well, he only has to pay 6 pence, every week..."
Listening to the other person's rambling explanation, Klein couldn't help glancing at the basket in the corner for a moment.
130 boxes or more, and only earned 2.25 pence - about the price of two pounds of black bread... How many baskets could he make in a day? (Note 1)
Leonard looked around and asked:
"Was there anything unusual before your wife's death?"
Laviss, who had answered similar questions before, pointed to his left chest and said: "Since last week, or perhaps the week before last, she often said it was very stuffy here and she couldn't breathe easily."
Any signs of heart disease? A normal death event? Klein interjected:
"Did you see the process of her death?"
Laviss recalled and said:
"After the sun went down, she stopped working. Candles and kerosene were much more expensive than matches... She said she was very tired and asked me to talk to the two children. She rested first, and when I looked at her again, she had already stopped breathing."
At this point, Laviss's sadness and pain could no longer be concealed.
Klein and Leonard asked a few more questions, but couldn't find any unnatural or abnormal factors.
After looking at each other, Leonard spoke:
"Mr. Laviss, please wait outside for a few minutes. We will conduct a thorough examination of the body. I don't think you would want to see what's coming next."
"OK, OK." Laviss hurriedly stood up.
Chubb Montbenton walked over and kicked the tenant sleeping on the floor awake with a kick, roughly pushing him out, while himself shutting the door politely and standing guard outside.
"How about it?" Leonard then looked at Fry.
"Cardiac disease." Fry withdrew his hands and said with certainty.
Klein thought for a moment and took out a half-penny coin, intending to make a quick judgment.
"'The influence of extraordinary factors on Mrs. Laviss's cardiac disease'? No, this is too narrow, and the answer can easily mislead people... Well, 'The influence of extraordinary factors on Mrs. Laviss's death'?... Just this one!" He murmured silently as if thinking, and quickly determined the divination sentence.
While reciting it, Klein came to Mrs. Laviss's body, his eyes deepening, and the coin popped up.
The echo of the "ding" reverberated, the yellowish-gold coin rolled down and landed steadily in his palm.
This time, the king's head was facing upwards.
This indicates that Mrs. Laviss's death was indeed influenced by extraordinary factors!