Lord of the Mysteries

Wendell was no stranger to the killing. He wasn't frightened when he heard the words. He calmly let the woman looking over the door into the room.

He immediately saw a man lying on the floor, and saw a **** red on his chest.

"Are you sure you are dead?" Wendel asked a question calmly.

The 20-year-old lady was at a loss at first, and then answered with uncertainty:

"Should ... I don't know ..."

"If there is any help, you need to be taken to the hospital immediately." Wendel's tone was like talking to the patient's family, not a murderer.

The lady holding the dripping dagger crossed her body subconsciously and cleared the way.

Wendel took a few steps and approached the victim.

He didn't need to squat down, just glanced at it and made judgments from various signs:

"It is indeed dead."

Linen-colored long-haired, slightly messy female in her twenties has no obvious expression changes, looking down at her toes:

"You call the police."

"What's it for?" Wendell had heard rapid footsteps from the stairs.

Obviously, it was the waiter or hotel owner who heard the scream and came up to check the movement.

"Tracey ..." the wild and pure young lady replied in a low voice.

Immediately she fell into the world of herself without saying a word.

Wendel was about to say something, and the hotel owner who had checked him in had rushed to the door.

"Goddess!" The older man couldn't help shouting after seeing what was going on in the room.

Wendell pressed down with his right hand, motioned to calm down, and then said:

"You call the police immediately, and I will watch here."

His temperament and his words had a feeling of trust and obedience. The hotel owner didn't hesitate at all, immediately turned his body and ran downstairs.

For Wendel, the first time I came to look at the movement was just a gentleman's habit. In fact, he didn't have the idea of ​​blending deeply. After all, he still had the task, but Miss Tracy's attitude of blankness, detachment, and coldness. Let him have some compassion. This is a normal reaction for a male.

He looked around, as if talking to the air:

"Not all murders are punishable by severe sentences. There are many situations."

Tracy slowly raised her head and set her gaze on the gentleman.

In her seemingly dead eyes there was a little more inexplicable luster.

Wendell glanced at her bruised face:

"He beat you?"

"Well." The other party seemed to have some authority, and Trisi finally wanted to keep silent.

Wendell's eyes moved down and fell on the dagger that was no longer dripping blood:

"Did you bring here, or did he?"

Tracy responded slightly slowly:

"he."

Wendel nodded slightly:

"Legal defense is in compliance with the law. I can prove to the police that you had a fierce quarrel beforehand and that there was a fight. Obviously, men have a natural advantage in this regard. I am not discriminating against women, but science And experience tells us so. "

He paused and asked:

"What is the relationship between you and what happened?"

Tracey's eyes moved a bit, and she recovered from the state of self-closing and detachment.

She was like answering the question of Mr. Police, with a little hope and sadness in her eyes:

"I am, oh, I am his mistress."

Speaking of which, Tracy smiled with a self-deprecating smile on her face:

"I used to be an ugly woman chasing money and losing her mind, and after leaving grammar school for a long time, she was tempted to become his mistress.

"He gave me a hotel and asked me to stay there, waiting for him to come or call every week.

"I gradually lost interest in this life. I became more and more depressed and inferior. I wanted to return everything to him and get rid of him completely, but he didn't agree. He threatened me in various ways and didn't let me. Leaving him, our last few meetings have been spent in quarrels.

"Just now, he said that there was only one way to leave him, and that was to die. Then he beat me and took out a dagger. Later, you know what happened later ...

Mistress ... Wendel glanced at Trice's face sadly and regretfully:

"The traces of the scene also provide preliminary evidence of the development of things."

He originally thought that Tracy and the deceased were husband and wife. Who knew that the relationship was more unbearable than he thought.

Tracy nodded her head and said:

"Thank you."

She didn't speak again until the Utopia police arrived, breaking the silence, raising her hands and accepting handcuffs.

Wendell glanced at Tracey's slightly faltering and told the police:

"Take her to check the injuries first, deal with the injuries and avoid accidents."

The police did not know why they had to listen to a witness. In short, they led Tracey without objection and took Wendel to the small hospital in the town under the heavy rain.

Because Tracey was a woman, Wendell and two policemen waited in the hospital corridor and did not follow.

In the passage of time, Wendell saw that a pregnant woman was rushed into the delivery room. It seemed that something was wrong and needed surgery.

After a while, he heard the cry of a baby, which was a declaration that a new life had come to this world, and at this time, Tracy just came out.

"Did you feel it? The beauty of life." Wendel said to Tracy seriously.

Cui Xi listened to the babies cried in the sound of wind and rain, and her expression was obviously touched.

Her face had been wiped away, and she looked very clean.

After a few seconds, Tracey turned back, nodded to Wendel, and said again:

"Thank you."

This time, she was no longer so indifferent, dull and autistic.

Wendell breathed a sigh of relief and went to the police station to record a confession.

After doing what he was supposed to do, Wendell walked to the side of the street, ready to take a taxi and return to the "Iris" hotel.

However, in this stormy late night, there was no pedestrian or carriage on the road.

"This is the disadvantage of the town, not convenient enough." Wunder whispered, stretched out the umbrella he took with him when he was out, distinguished the direction, and returned to the "Iris" hotel the same way.

As a former "security officer", he has a mysterious memory of the route he has traveled, and he is not worried about getting lost in a strange town.

At this point, the rainstorm had been much smaller, but the wind was still raging, and they swept across, carrying rain, slanting on Wendel's body diagonally.

This made Wendel couldn't help raising his right hand, blocking his chest and abdomen.

That confidential document was hidden inside the clothing at that location.

-Even before going to bed, Wendell kept the document close to him and kept it separate from himself. To this end, he has developed a habit. As long as he has a corresponding self-reminder in advance, he will not turn over after falling asleep.

Utopia is a small town. Wendel saw the "Iris" hotel almost a quarter of an hour away. At this time, his top hat and clothing were wet with the wind.

This made him a little worried, that the confidential document was wet with water and damaged.

Strictly speaking, I have violated the rules for performing tasks, but how can I not help with such a lady? This is what a gentleman should do ... Wendel was slightly annoyed, but he didn't regret it at all.

Immediately after entering the room, he took off his coat, took out the document, and put it on the table.

The paper bag on the outside of the document has obvious signs of wetting, and it seems that a few touches will break it.

Wendell immediately rang a bell, called the waiter, and asked him for a coal stove, hoping to increase the temperature in the room and speed up the air-drying of the sealed document bag.

While waiting, he noticed that there was no late night quietness around him. It seemed that the screams and the police's visit had caused residents and nearby residents to wake up and not fall asleep again.

The howling winds weakened a lot, and in the ticking rain, Wendell heard the cry of children, the quarrel of husband and wife, the violin sound of sawing wood, intermittent sobbing, footsteps walking upstairs A voice that keeps talking and sometimes forgets to control.

He didn't care about this life-filled scene, but just felt that they were noisy and made him unable to calm down.

After a while, the waiter brought a coal stove with added charcoal fire.

Wendel relaxed a little and asked casually:

"Did you know that Miss Tracy?"

The thin waiter shook his head:

"do not know."

He then added:

"I heard that she is indeed a local, but I have been living in a plantation outside the city until this year."

"What do you know about her?" Wendel asked subconsciously.

"She will come to our hotel three or five times a month, with the dead man." The waiter sighed suddenly, "She is not happy at all."

Wendell was silent for a few seconds, sent the waiter away, and sat back at the table.

Time passed minute by minute, and the bags outside the confidential documents dried out.

At this point, the interior and exterior of the hotel have become quieter, only the ticking sound of rain falling to the ground and the wind sound of the windows.

Energetic Wendell recalled all the events that had happened before, boasting about Miss Tracy's life, lifting the paper bag and turning over.

At this time, he found that the document bag was slightly damaged under the cover, and the paper inside was looming.

Wendel frowned, knowing that he was going to be punished.

Of course, the punishment will not be too heavy, because if the confidentiality requirements of the file are high enough, he will not be escorted by himself.

Wendel originally intended to keep the current state and show the damage to the transferee, but he glanced around, but saw the word on the file through the hole:

"Utopia."

Wendell's spirit was tense, only the wind and rain outside suddenly stopped.