[Quick Transmigration] Take away the bloody protagonist

Detective William seemed annoyed.He hammered the table heavily with his hand, and said loudly, "Don't pretend to be innocent. Besides you, who else could possibly kill someone?"

The young man leaned back on the chair and looked lazily at Detective William: "I didn't kill the man. It's useless to ask more."

"You didn't kill it?" Detective William sneered, "Then tell me, who else in this city can walk through that piece of mud without leaving footprints, causing no footprints to kill?"

"Kill without footprints?" Zhou Mao was confused and couldn't help asking, "What's going on? Why does Detective William think this person can kill without footprints?"

When Detective William heard Zhou Mao's questioning, he stopped the interrogation, turned his head, and looked at Zhou Mao with a displeased expression.

Narrator: "...I was introducing the case to you just now, didn't you hear?"

Zhou Mao: "...I didn't hear it. I was probably shocked by the suspect's beauty just now, so I couldn't hear anything."

Inspector Brown on the side helped his glasses helplessly, turned sideways, took out a folder from the bookshelf and handed it to Zhou Mao, and at the same time comforted Inspector Brown: "Tom is still a newcomer, his sensitivity to the case may It’s not like us. Just get more exercise and exercise.”

Detective William snorted, turned his head, and stared sullenly at the young man across the table again.

Sergeant Brown watched Zhou Mao open the folder, and patiently explained to Zhou Mao: "Yesterday, the mayor of our city was found dead in an open space near the wheat field square, and there were no footprints of anyone around except his own.

"And Paul Rousseau," he nodded in the direction of the young man, "is the only vampire in this city, and the only race that can fly. Therefore, he is our primary suspect."

"However," Zhou Mao browsed the files in the folder and whispered, "There are many ways to kill people without footprints. It doesn't have to be locked on people who can fly."

"That's right." Sergeant Brown shook his head, "But the mayor is generous and doesn't have many enemies. We investigated several people who may have murder motives, and they all have alibi. Mr. Rousseau There was a dispute with the mayor just now because of the real estate and household registration issues, and there was no alibi, and we were very uncooperative when we investigated him. So Detective William arrested him first."

Zhou Mao nodded.The time, place, and circumstances of the mayor's death were recorded in detail in the document.

The deceased was found by a neighbor living nearby at around 10 am yesterday.He fell face down in the mud of a dry pond.A 3-inch long, 6-inch deep gash on his back killed him.No murder weapon was found nearby.The wound was narrow in shape and pierced obliquely down the back into the heart.According to the doctor's deduction, it should be a taller person who attacked the mayor from behind and killed him.

But the problem is that there are no human footprints in the mud of the pond except the mayor's own footprint.

Zhou Mao turned the page.A small piece of paper fell from a gap in the paper.Zhou Mao picked it up and found that it was a small poem printed in blue ink:

Fortunato is dead

Negroes in Oslo have brought in judges

hunchback says

I will run diagonally in 32 black squares

Find the coordinate system that removes the right angles

Under the guidance of my brother named queen

26,11,5

to his grave

"This note was found next to the mayor's body. It should have been left by the murderer." Sergeant Brown said seeing Zhou Mao reading the poem.

"This...isn't easy to understand." Zhou Mao frowned.

"Yeah." Sheriff Brown also sighed: "We are now thinking about the murder notice or motive, trying to decipher the meaning of this poem, but it is always in vain."

"Is there anyone named Fortunato in this town?" Zhou Mao asked.

The sheriff shook his head: "Not really." He touched his chin: "Fortunato is not so much an English name, it's more Italian..."

The vampire sitting at the interrogation table—Mr. Paul Rousseau, seemed to have heard the discussion between the sheriff and Zhou Mao about Fortunato.He sneered, then let out a big yawn.

"Enough is enough," Paul said. "I've been playing detective with you for a long time. Now I need to go home and rest."

"You still want to go home?" Detective William narrowed his eyes. "If you don't explain today, don't even think about leaving this room."

Sheriff Brown looked at Detective William again and sighed again.

"Old William," he said, "I don't think there will be anything to interrogate today, and you are tired, why don't you just let him go..."

Detective William was about to refuse, when Hannah knocked on the door of the compartment and walked in.She held a tray in her hand with a ceramic teapot and tea set on it.

Hannah placed the teacup in front of Detective William and Paul, poured black tea, and took out a small saucer with several sugar cubes on the table.

"Take a break." She smiled slightly at Detective William, "You've worked all night, don't be too tired."

Paul watched Hannah pour tea for himself, and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "Thank you, beautiful lady."

He turned his gaze to Detective William, smiled and said, "I've changed my mind, I can stay in this dilapidated police station and have my daytime rest." He looked at Hannah again: "The premise is that there is this charming Accompanied by the young lady."

Hannah's face flushed instantly.Holding the tray, she quickly escaped from the cubicle.

Sergeant Brown pressed his temples, looking unbearable: "William, you'd better let him go. Not only can't ask any questions, but he's started molesting our female police officer."

Detective William hesitated for a while, and finally waved his hand, indicating that Paul could go.

Paul stood up and bowed slightly: "Thank you again, my beloved detective." He said, "If you have other requests to see me, I will still be waiting for you at my Burrow."

He put on his cloak and hat, and left the compartment.Zhou Mao watched Paul walk to the door, and saw that he put his right hand on his chest, bent slightly, and made a farewell gesture to Hannah who was sitting by the door, and left the police station without looking back.

After the jingle of the bell on the door fell silent, Inspector Brown turned.

"William, you can go home and rest today. As for the work of investigating the scene again," Sheriff Brown looked at Zhou Mao, "Can I leave it to you, Tom?"

Zhou Mao nodded.He asked Detective William for the address, took a pen and paper, and left the police station.

The police station was a little far away from the scene of the crime. Zhou Mao took a carriage along the way and bumped for a while before arriving.

This is a suburb, surrounded by wasteland or wheat fields.Several households were scattered along the dirt road where horse-drawn carriages passed.

Zhou Mao came to the mud pond at the scene of the crime.The mud pond has been surrounded by people from the police station with some branches and cloth strips, signaling to people around not to enter at will.Zhou Mao looked into the mud pond, the body had been removed long ago, and there was a trace of a human figure in the middle of the mud pond.The scene has been destroyed.In addition to the footprints of the deceased himself, there are probably footprints of the body discoverers, onlookers, and police officers.

Zhou Mao walked around the mud pond, trying to find any clues that were not written in the document, but it was all in vain.

The weather was getting hotter, Zhou Mao took off the windbreaker and put it on his hands.

At this time, a woman dressed as a peasant woman passed by Zhou Mao with a cart. When she saw Zhou Mao, she greeted him warmly: "Mr. Police Officer, you are here again."

Zhou Mao also responded to the peasant woman, beckoning, "Hello," he opened the document he brought, which contained the names of several nearby residents: "Are you Mrs. Ross, Mrs. Scott, or Mrs. Black?"

"I'm Julie Rose," said the peasant woman, smiling. "My family's farmland is behind this quagmire, next to the wheat field square. It was my husband who found the mayor's body."

"Is that so!" Zhou Mao asked quickly as if he had discovered a treasure: "Is it convenient for you now? Can I ask a few questions?"

"Yes." The peasant woman nodded.

Zhou Mao thought for a while and asked, "When your husband found the body, was there really only a row of footprints of the deceased around?"

Peasant woman: "There is only one row."

Zhou Mao: "There are no traces of being dragged around?"

"No." The peasant woman shook her head. "My husband was very surprised because there was fresh mud all around and not a trace of anything else."

Zhou Mao thought about it again and asked, "Did you not find anything strange in the quagmire before you found the body at 10 o'clock?"

The peasant woman still shook her head: "The fog is very heavy every morning, and it can only dissipate a little after 9 o'clock. My husband didn't notice the situation in the quagmire until 10 o'clock."

Zhou Mao: "What about the night before? Was there anything unusual about the night before?"

"The night before?" the peasant woman thought: "There was nothing the night before... By the way," she suddenly remembered: "My husband said that he seemed to see a cat nearby."

"Cat?" Zhou Mao was a little confused.Is this an anomaly?

Although he was puzzled, he recorded it honestly.

Zhou Mao asked the peasant woman a few other questions, and after seeing that she couldn't get any helpful answers to the case, he thanked the peasant woman, left the quagmire, and continued to visit several nearby families.

Zhou Mao had been busy all day, but he didn't get much valuable information, and he was exhausted.

This is the misery of police officers in detective novels.Zhou Mao thought silently, collecting clues is a waste of time, and the detective only needs to sit at home and use his brain to come to a conclusion.In the end, the reputation is all detective, and the police officer is thankless.

He finally returned to the police station, and Inspector Brown asked him to stay in the office to write the case report on the grounds that he was late in the morning.

Zhou Mao sighed for a while, and had no choice but to resign himself to his fate and sit at his desk, opened the file folder and began to write.

The off-duty time has long passed, and there are not many people in the police station.Zhou Mao didn't know how long he had been writing.The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, Zhou Mao raised his head, and saw Hannah put a plate of snacks on his table.

"Eat something." She said to Zhou Mao with a gentle smile.

Zhou Mao thanked Hannah and picked up a snack. "Are you off work yet?" he asked, looking at Hannah.

"I'm on duty at the police station tonight," Hannah said.

"That's it." Zhou Mao nodded and put the snack in his mouth.At the same time, he noticed a small figure beside Hannah, a boy about 5 or 6 years old with black hair and black eyes, looking at Zhou Mao timidly.

Hannah noticed Zhou Mao's gaze, she turned slightly, put her hand on the boy's shoulder, and said to Zhou Mao: "I haven't introduced you yet, this is my adopted son named Finn. I don't worry He was alone at home, so I brought him on duty together.

Zhou Mao smiled kindly at Fern: "Hi, I'm Hannah's colleague Tom."

Finn nodded shyly: "Hello."

Hannah touched Fein's hair with a smile: "This kid is a little shy." She squatted down and looked into Fein's eyes: "Let's not disturb Tom's work, shall we go to read?"

"Yeah." The boy responded lightly. He rolled the corner of his clothes with his hands and said, "Mother Hannah, can you read a story book for me?"

"But Tom's working..."

Zhou Mao waved to Hannah, signaling that she doesn't need to care about herself.

Hannah nodded her head to express her gratitude, and asked Fern gently: "Then which book do you want me to read?"

"Read this." Finn held up a thin picture book: "I just found it in the warehouse here. The story of cats."

Zhou Mao raised his head, and by the light of the kerosene lamp, he saw the cover of the album.It was a black cat with round yellow eyes, as if observing the people outside the book.

Zhou Mao scratched his head, lowered his head, and dryly wrote another line on the report paper.

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