Shadow of great britain

In the interrogation room of the Greenwich Police Station, the hotel owner Wells sat across the table with shackles, and on the other side of the table sat Arthur and Tom and Tony who were responsible for surveillance.

Arthur dropped the delivery note from the London Gaslight and Coke Company on the table.

"The London Gas Light and Coke Company's delivery notes show that the last delivery of gas cylinders to the Wells Hotel was twenty-three days ago.

We have searched all the rooms in the hotel. There is only one gas tank in the hotel, and that is the one in the room where the crime occurred.

We have also consulted the authorities of the London Gas Light and Coke Company, who say that a gas lamp can last for three hours on a full tank of fuel, which is probably just enough for one night's lighting needs.

A gas tank can provide about thirty to forty gas refills.

What's even more interesting is that there were only two gas lamps in the Wells Hotel, one at the front desk and one in the room where the crime occurred. The remaining guest rooms were all kerosene lamps.

In other words, if the lighting was normal, the canister left in the room where the crime occurred should be almost out of gas, and even if there was some left, it would not be enough to poison someone.

Mr. Wells, can you tell me why? "

Wells looked at the delivery note and struggled to reply: "There's nothing noteworthy about it.

Gas lamps were a new product, and everyone felt that new things were unsafe. Weren't there many incidents of gas lamp explosions published in the newspapers last year?

I thought this thing was not good at first, so when I was choosing lighting equipment for the hotel, I chose kerosene lamps.

But a few months ago, a friend of mine told me that the London Gas Light and Coke Company was having a sale and a price reduction, so I bought two of them and came back to try them out.

As for saying that the gas tank is almost out of gas, that is simply nonsense. The discounted rooms in our hotel are not occupied every day, so it is normal to have some gas left. "

Arthur nodded after hearing this: "That's a good answer, Mr. Wells. But, how do you explain this?"

Tom stepped forward and placed a thick stack of ledgers on the table.

Arthur clasped his hands and leaned back on the chair: "We have sufficient evidence to prove that you have purchased large amounts of nitrous oxide in multiple batches from different stores in the past six months.

Normal people would not buy this thing, let alone know its function. The only people who know how to use nitrous oxide are chemists, doctors, and the wealthy young ladies of the upper class.

Chemists study its properties, doctors use it for surgeries, and wealthy young ladies use it to entertain themselves and hold banquets. Why would you, the hotel owner, be associated with this kind of thing? "

Wells argued: "Who said these people are the only ones who know about nitrous oxide? Don't you, a Scotland Yard policeman, also know about it? Like those wealthy young men, I just use it to have fun. My daily life is already depressing enough. , I have to find some fun for myself."

"All right."

Arthur nodded: "At first glance, your words sound like there's nothing wrong with you. What you do is your own business. As long as you don't commit a crime, we can't control it. But from the information we know, your financial situation doesn't seem to be the same. Not too good.

I remember you admitted it yourself when you were in the hotel. The money you earned from opening the hotel was not much left after deducting the rent and other costs. But the amount you spent on nitrous oxide in the past few months is actually close to 20 pounds. Where does your money come from? "

When Wells heard this, his whole face turned red, and he could no longer make it up.

"You care where I come from? I don't steal or rob, I just do a little business. You have no reason to force me to speak, and you can't torture me to extract a confession. I deny all the accusations you have made against me. This is slandering my reputation!”

"Hey! Damn you!" Tony's eyes widened and he almost took out the civilized staff from his waist.

Wells was startled by his actions, and he asked tremblingly: "What, what are you going to do? Torture to extract confessions is against your internal regulations!"

Tony went up and gave him three sticks on the head: "Damn it! If I didn't ask a question, it wouldn't be considered torture. If you didn't plan to answer, it wouldn't be forced to confess. I just wanted to beat you. Is this torture?" Is this forcing a confession?"

Wells was beaten so hard that he quickly covered his head. He couldn't stop crying in pain: "He's been beaten! The police have been beaten!"

Tom hurriedly hugged Tony from behind: "Tony, it's almost enough to hit him with two sticks! The others will be recruited soon."

Arthur also reached out to block Tony, and he continued.

"Mr. Wells, it seems that you do understand the regulations of Scotland Yard. We cannot torture you to extract confessions. This is why multiple people must be present when we interrogate suspects. And according to the law, you do The right to remain silent.”

When Wells heard this, his hand covering his head immediately relaxed. He thought Arthur was surrendering to him, so he immediately stopped crying or howling.

He said viciously: "It's good that you know! Why don't you let me out quickly? If you don't let me go, I will complain to Scotland Yard about your use of violence!"

As soon as Tony heard this, his anger that had just subsided suddenly rose again: "Tom! Let go of me! This guy dares to have a temper! That is to say, Willocks is gone. If this man falls in Willocks, In my hand, I’ve probably been slapped several times!”

Arthur crossed his fingers and put his elbows on the table, dragging his chin.

"But, Mr. Wells, are you sure you want to remain silent? Now all the evidence points to you, and you are the only suspect. If it comes to court, you will not be able to escape the gallows based on what you just said. "

"I..." When Wells heard this, his arrogant smile suddenly stopped: "Are you, are you trying to scare me?"

"Do I need to scare you? Mr. Wells, you seem to know something about the law, but not much."

Arthur leaned back in his chair and said: "Let me be honest with you. Do you know what the case handling guidelines are for many police districts in Scotland Yard?"

Wells hesitated for a long time and asked tentatively: "Looking for the truth?"

Arthur smiled helplessly: "I'm sorry, Scotland Yard does not pursue the truth. In most cases, what we pursue is an explanation. For the explanation above and the explanation to the public, as long as there is an explanation, it is really not the truth It doesn't really matter.

Not to mention, as far as this case is concerned, your explanation seems to be the truth.

However, it is just a resemblance. I have checked your social relations and there is no grudge between you and the two deceased persons.

Moreover, you are also a hotel owner with a fixed property. Although your life is not particularly wealthy, it is still manageable.

You have no grudges and have a good life. Why do you want to solve the problem by killing someone?

You have to thank God you met me and not another inspector.

If someone else took over this case, they probably wouldn't even bother to continue interrogating and investigating you.

They will only send you to court when the time comes, and then choose a good day to hang you on the gallows. The public will applaud, and the superiors will praise you. Everything will be happy, and the case will be over.

If you are planning on going through this procedure, I can accommodate you as well. Well, your interrogation process ends here, Mr. Wells, and we'll see you in hell. "

After saying this, Arthur stretched, then put away the information on the table and stood up.

As soon as his hand was on the door handle of the interrogation room, he heard a shout from behind him.

"etc!"

Arthur's footsteps stopped, and he turned around with a smile.

Wells trembled and shook his legs. He lowered his eyes and held it in for a long time. Then he seemed to have given up and said, "I really didn't kill him.

I... I just run errands for them, buy some things, provide a room, and make a small profit from it.

It's really not profitable to open a hotel. I... If I don't do this business, I can't survive. Everything is going up in price, and I, I can’t do anything about it. "

Arthur narrowed his eyes: "Profit? Can there be profit from killing people?"

Wells swallowed and nodded slowly: "They... they are a group of people who deal in dead people. I didn't say anything before because I was afraid that they would retaliate against me. I... I can't fight them, and I don't dare to fight them. Fight, they are all desperadoes."

Arthur returned to his seat and sat down: "Mr. Wells, before the criminal is caught, I can ensure your personal safety on behalf of Scotland Yard."

When Wells heard this, it was as if he had taken a reassurance, and he finally stopped hiding it.

He took a deep breath and asked: "Mr. Police Officer, have you heard about the serial murders of sixteen people in Edinburgh two years ago? The two notorious serial killers William Hale and William Burke .

And...the people I deal with are in the same business as them. Kill people and then sell the bodies..."