The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 8 Being Targeted
Bruno woke up. He sat on the sofa and wiped his face, looking at Marietta and Clayton in confusion.

"I figured there was a better way than just jabbing my sweet dreams."

"Businessmen must pursue high efficiency."

Clayton handed him the little water in the glass that hadn't been spilled, and he drank it in a gulp, dispelling the sticky feeling in his mouth.

Having regained some energy, Bruno looked at them in surprise.

"When did you meet?"

"We don't know each other." The two replied together.Then they said in unison: "I'm looking for you this time for business."

Clayton looked sideways at Mari Aita, and according to Bruno's words, she should also be someone Bruno knew.And as if sensing his gaze, Mary also stared directly at him without hesitation.

This weird tacit understanding made Bruno suspect that he was still in a hangover.

He shook his head, buttoned his ears again, and then he was sure that everything was true:
"Okay, so who goes first."

Bruno pointed to the bedroom, motioning for the next business person to come in with him.

He usually drinks and rests in the living room, but the bedroom is cleaner.One-on-one communication can also prevent employers from divulging privacy.

Without any controversy, Marie Etta stepped forward.But without looking in the direction of the bedroom:
"Just talk here."

"Alright, tell me what you want."

Bruno took out a pen and paper and spread it on the table, and began to write the incident acceptance record, ignoring Clayton.Since the employer has no objection, he will not let Creighton go out.

Mary took advantage of the situation and sat down across the table: "I want you to follow up and investigate a person who is suspected of a serious crime."

The rustle of writing came from Bruno's pen, there was a slight pause, and then he looked up: "You are the sheriff. If you see a crime, arrest him on the spot."

Clayton thought he had nothing to do with him, and waited with his back facing the door.

Marie Aita's voice continued: "It's just a suspicion, and I was out on patrol that day, so I lost the opportunity to ask questions. When I returned to the Public Security Department, the case about him was closed. That person is a well-known local Gentleman, no one else wants to offend him. Now, if you want to find out the truth of the case, you can only rely on private action."

"You really did your job."

Bruno scratched at his straw-like hair. He was no stranger to the female sheriff's sense of justice: "So, is there any personal information about him that you want to tell me?"

"His name is Clayton Bello. He runs an antique shop in the parish of St. Mored. Black hair, green eyes, king's beard. Aged about 30."

Bruno's pen stopped.

He was now convinced that Clayton and Mary did not know each other at all.

Beside the door, Clayton's breathing became heavy. He never expected that the female sheriff was here to hire Bruno to investigate him.

The body of the watcher he had sent to the Sheriff's Department still aroused suspicion.

".I need you to follow him for two weeks. If there is anything unusual, please record it and report it to me. Be careful to keep a distance, and don't sneak into the mansion to investigate. This man is very cruel and has good fighting skills. If he finds out, It is very likely that they will find an excuse of self-defense to kill a private investigator like you, and then cover you with a crime that does not exist."

Sure enough, it was the fault of being too quick when killing the watcher!
This misunderstanding is too serious.

But if you already know what you look like, why do you dare to ask these words in front of your face?
Clayton frowned and turned away, hesitating whether to explain it now.

However, Bruno had already agreed first.

"It sounds like a high risk. The fee is fifteen pounds, and the deposit is three pounds. It's no problem."

"no problem."

Marietta paid the bill happily, then got up and walked to the door.

Clayton's lips twitched unconsciously by the door, and she noticed it. She looked at Clayton with pure curiosity. Facing the appearance in the description, there was no movement in her eyes:
"Why, does this gentleman have anything to say to me?"

Clayton opened his mouth and finally said, "No, miss."

Marie Etta opened the door and left, giving it a hard shake as she went.The door snapped shut.

When she left, Bruno lit a cigarette, and suddenly laughed and coughed while smoking.

Clayton walked over and sat in the seat before Marie Etta, very dissatisfied with his reaction: "What's so ridiculous, she can report my private information but can't recognize me in person, it's weird. "

"Don't worry, she has always been like this, otherwise she wouldn't always be assigned to go out on patrol. Because only the task of arresting on the spot can let her know who the criminal is."

Bruno went to touch the bottle, but the green glass flask was already empty, so he had to give up.

"Then I really thank her for her contribution to this city." Clayton slapped a "Broken Wing Angel" club admission ticket hand-drawn from memory on the table.

"I need you to find someone who sells such tickets."

"It's another tracking task, so I can only ask my assistant to do it."

Clayton raised his hand and fanned the smoke away from his nose: "Why, are you really planning to follow up on me as Mary Aita said?"

Bruno looked at him with disgust, and pressed the cigarette butt out on the yellow wooden table top coated with fireproof paint.

"I took the money."

"Then how are you going to investigate me?"

Bruno leaned on the sofa and lazily said: "Just like other tasks, the time starts tomorrow. But only during the day, because I want to come back to drink at night."

"I really don't know if you want to work or not."

But Clayton didn't bother with Marie Etta, as long as Bruno's investigation didn't affect him.

Bruno turned the hand-painted coupon to the other side and observed: "Then what happens after you find the ticket seller? Do you want us to help you spread the word?"

"No, it's better to stay away from the ticket seller, at least keep a distance of more than ten meters, so as not to be discovered, otherwise your life may be in danger."

Clayton emphasized: "Don't have any communication and physical contact with the ticket seller. Pay attention to people who buy tickets from him every day. Focus on people who buy tickets several times in a short period of time. This may require many people to investigate at the same time. .By the way, do you have enough assistants?"

He remembered that Bruno's assistants were basically temporary workers with relevant skills.

Bruno grinned: "If you don't care that the detective is disabled, so many complicated tasks are enough."

"I have faith in your abilities. This mission continues until I ask it to be stopped."

"Then pay [-] pounds as a deposit first, and we will make a formal installment fee after we find the ticket seller."

Clayton handed out two bills without hesitation.

One pound is equivalent to twenty shillings, which is equivalent to the weekly salary of a senior skilled worker. Considering the danger of letting Bruno's people monitor the Holy Grail, this price is not bad.

214 Mercy Street.

This is where Joe Marney lives now.

The Holy Grail Society's watchers who had been watching him got rid of it when Creighton pulled him out of the theater, but tonight, Creighton wanted the watchers to find Joe again.

He killed the person sent by the Holy Grail to monitor him, and the new follower must be more cautious and secretive.

Therefore, Joe Mani was needed as a bait to let the stalker reveal his location.

He would go to 214 Mercy Street tonight with great fanfare, and bring his watcher to Joe Marney.

There was a certain risk in that, and it was the reason he gave Joe his revolver.

If you are unlucky, the seemingly invisible watcher may have followed Clayton's carriage to find Joe who sneaked into the church as a volunteer yesterday, so that the watcher doesn't have to go close to confirm Joe's identity, and can hide far away. Looking through the binoculars at Joe's house in Mercy Street, it was difficult to pick him out at once.

But Clayton was ready for anything.

During the day, he had already found an excellent observation point, just next to the General Security Office of St. Mellon Parish.

It was an old mechanical clock tower.

The building of the General Public Security Department was rebuilt from the city hall 100 years ago. At that time, there was a curfew law, so a tall building was built next to it to arrange the alarm clock to notify the residents of the area.Standing on the top and looking down, almost half of the parish can be seen, and it will be more convenient to find the watcher.

And because it is a mechanical clock, there will be no bell ringers around.

The mechanism of the clock tower strikes the small hanging bell every 15 minutes and the big bell on the hour.

Even gunshots are muffled when the bell rings.

Everything is ready.

Clayton came downstairs, and a black rental carriage was parked in the shadows of the night.

His Conqueror rifle, which weighed nearly fifteen kilograms, was wrapped in black cloth and carried into the compartment, followed by spare clothes, and finally climbed up from the rear by himself.

The carriage sank slightly, and then the carriage began to move forward.

When crossing a boulevard, Clayton jumped out from the rear of the car holding the rifle at the right time, and made several rolls in the withered and yellow autumn leaves.

The coachman knew nothing of what was going on in the carriage behind, except that the speed of the carriage increased a little.

Clayton sat among the fallen leaves and watched the carriage go away. He believed that this was enough to throw his current watchers far away.

Just as he was trying to stand up, an ocher feather smeared with slime slowly fell in front of him.

And that familiar rancid smell.

Clayton raised his head suddenly, but above his head were the thick crowns of the big trees on both sides, and the intertwined branches and leaves completely obscured the sky.Only a few gaps leaked starlight, and this feather probably happened to pass through a gap.

He was growing more and more confident about the success rate of tonight's operation.

"Sure enough, it's in the sky"

(End of this chapter)