[Quick Transmigration] Take away the bloody protagonist

Zhou Mao fell asleep in a daze.He vaguely felt that Paul seemed to be unlocking the handcuffs, trying to get up, but his head was heavy.

But he didn't struggle for long, and after a while, Paul woke him up completely.He faintly smelled a sweet fragrance.Can't help but look up.

"Get up, we're getting late." Paul pushed his back. "Go to work after breakfast."

He brought a silver plate to Zhou Mao.Topped with milk, French toast and bacon bacon.

Zhou Mao looked at Paul.Paul smiled at him too.

"Eat," Paul said.

Zhou Mao nodded and began to eat.He sighed while eating: "This feeling is not a lover, it's like marrying a virtuous wife."

Narrator: "...It's a daughter-in-law again. Don't forget, the last person you thought was a daughter-in-law stabbed you in the end. This daughter-in-law is ready to blow your ass at any time."

Zhou Mao: "...I was wrong, don't talk about it, I can't even eat anymore."

Zhou Mao looked around, but did not see Franky. "Frankie gone?"

"Let's go." Paul sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head up to watch Zhou Mao eat: "He recovered in the early morning and left."

Zhou Mao nodded, he took a bite of French toast, the smell of eggs and the sweetness of maple syrup made him squint his eyes.

"It's delicious." Zhou Mao praised. "Did you do it?"

"How is that possible?" Paul waved his hand. "I can't even cook. I just went out and bought this."

Seeing Zhou Mao's satisfied expression, he couldn't help smiling: "This restaurant is not far away. If you like it, I can take you there to eat in the future."

Zhou Mao happily agreed.After eating, he tidied up briefly, and then went to work at the police station.

After reaching the gate of the police station, he opened the door and walked in. He saw Hannah sitting in her place.

"Good morning, Hannah." Zhou Mao greeted briefly and asked, "Is Fein's cold better?"

Hannah looked a little tired. She smiled and said, "The high fever has subsided. But now I still feel a little uncomfortable. The nanny will take care of him at home."

Zhou Mao sighed slightly, and told Hannah to rest.At this time, Inspector William rang the bell and summoned the police officers in charge of the No Footprint serial murder case to hold a case analysis meeting.

Zhou Mao tidied up the materials on the table, and followed Hannah to the meeting room.

In the meeting room, Inspector William handed Zhou Mao a notebook and asked him to take minutes of the meeting.Zhou Mao accepted it silently.

Why do I feel that after this police station, I have been doing the work of a secretary.he muttered under his breath.

After seeing the police officers take their seats, Inspector William clapped his hands and asked, "Do you have any new progress regarding this case?"

Several police officers spoke.They investigated the relationship and family background of Detective Brown and the mayor, but found no valuable information.

A few others searched Inspector Brown's home, but nothing was found.

Overall, the case has gone nowhere.

Just when the atmosphere of the meeting was becoming tense, Hannah suddenly spoke.

"The other day, before Fern fell ill, I investigated the Grays - the ones that were written on the note to the mayor accusing the mayor of killing. They had no relatives. Among fathers, sons and daughters After death, no one will inherit the property, and it will be directly owned by the city government."

"I vaguely feel that the name Gray is very familiar. I checked the police records of the police station and found the contact between the mayor and Inspector Brown." She paused, and then said, "Maybe you don't remember Inspector William. Well, 10 years ago, you, me, Inspector Brown and the mayor, and some other police officers, visited Gray's house a week before he disappeared, and persuaded him to sell the wine estate to Gilbert's company for to build a steel mill."

"But in the end he didn't agree, and our group also returned bitterly."

Detective William's expression was a little unnatural, and he remained silent.After listening to Anna's description, Zhou Mao had a question.

"Why do you need to bring the police to persuade Gray to sell the manor?" Zhou Mao asked, "Can't the mayor and the buyer go directly?"

"Because real estate management was assigned to the police station at that time." Hannah explained: "Signing documents requires a police officer to prove it."

"But in this case, wouldn't it be enough to send only one police officer?" Zhou Mao still didn't understand. "Why did Detective Brown, Detective William and Hannah all go?"

"I'm not sure about that." Hannah shook her head. "I only stayed at Gray's for a while, and I came back with the other police officers after they refused to sell the land." Hannah clicked on the cover of the folder, and continued: "But I think the detective and the mayor's The death has a lot to do with the Gray family, and I request a re-investigation of Gray's disappearance."

Detective Inspector William’s expression seemed unhappy. He waved his hand and said, “The disappearance case is very far away. The police investigated it for a long time, but it was of no avail. It would be a waste of time to re-investigate now. Task," he knocked on the table: "One is to find out the murderer's modus operandi; the other is the murderer's motive."

"In terms of modus operandi," said a pale, red-haired and freckled police officer, "if Paul Rousseau was the murderer, the modus operandi would be simple. All he had to do was fly up and throw a knife in the dead man's back."

"But Mr. Rousseau has no motive." Zhou Mao retorted.

"He has," Inspector William said. "The mayor wanted to revoke his citizenship a month ago. And compel the acquisition of his property. Rousseau got into a dispute with the mayor about it."

"Inspector William," Zhou Mao sighed, and said, "Mr. Rousseau would not kill someone for such a trivial matter." He looked at the police officers sitting around the table: "You may not know, Rousseau Sir has lived for 600 years. He was an aristocrat and spent a lot of time on the Continent. I think citizenship in this small town in England, and that shabby old estate, is a big deal for him. It's nothing at all."

"If the murderer was not M. Rousseau," asked Hannah, "in what manner did he kill the victim without leaving a trace?"

Zhou Mao: "There are many ways to kill people without footprints." He drew a schematic diagram in his record book: "The simplest one is to tie a rope to the end of an arrow, shoot the victim to death with the arrow, and then shoot the victim to death. The rope is pulled, and the arrow leaves the body. Footprintless killing is formed."

"But the wound on the corpse is obviously a knife wound." Inspector William said: "The current bows and arrows don't make the arrowheads so big."

"Could it be that the murderer tied the knife to the arrow and shot it into the dead man's back?"

"Impossible." The detective shook his head. "A bow and arrow with a knife tied can't fly very far."

"There is another possibility." Zhou Mao pondered. "The murderer hung the rope to a relatively high place, and then landed near the dead through the rope. Killed the dead, and then returned through the rope."

"Tom, you have seen the scene of the crime." The inspector said, "In the case of Inspector Brown, this method is feasible. And the place where the mayor died, there is no place to hang the rope around."

"Could it be that the mayor was mortally wounded elsewhere and then moved to where he fell before dying?"

"If so, there should be blood near his footprints, but we didn't find that."

Zhou Mao stroked his chin, racked his brains, and thought hard.He searched through all the detective novels he read, trying to find a way that could reasonably explain ordinary people killing people in mud and snow without leaving any traces.

"Tom," Hannah couldn't help but comfort Zhou Mao when she saw Zhou Mao thinking hard, "I know you and Mr. Rousseau are good friends, and I can understand your desire to clear up Mr. Rousseau's grievances. But don't be too anxious, this way It can only backfire. If Mr. Rousseau is not the murderer, the truth will naturally slowly surface."

"However, if the murderer is not Paul Rousseau," the freckle police officer expressed his opinion again: "then why did the murderer go to great lengths to hide his footprints?"

Zhou Mao's mind suddenly flashed: "Is it because his footprints are different from ordinary people, so he is afraid that we will use the footprints to identify the murderer?"

"Yes." Officer Freckles nodded, "I think the murderer is most likely a cripple, an old man, or a woman. The crutches they hold and the high-heeled shoes they wear may all be evidence for us to solve the case."

"Yes." Zhou Mao agreed, "The old man holding a cane can also tie the murder weapon to the cane, which is convenient for killing the dead from a long distance."

"But it might be a little premature to pin the killer down to a cripple, an old man, or a woman," Hannah said. "I think we need other clues to narrow it down."

"And the poem?" asked a police officer sitting in a corner. "Is there any clue hidden in the poem?"

"Don't mention that poem." Detective William waved his hand: "It doesn't make sense, I can't read it at all. I still know the first sentence of Fortunato, it's a personal name. What is Oslo in the second sentence? Which country is this? strange language? What are the blacks in Oslo?"

"Oslo?" Zhou Mao felt strange, "Isn't Oslo a place name? It's the capital of Norway."

"Aren't you awake, Tom?" Detective William looked at Zhou Mao mockingly: "How could the capital of Norway be called such a strange name. Let me tell you, you have to remember it. The capital of Norway is Christie Kristiania."

"Christiania?" Zhou Mao repeated the name.

"The black people in Oslo invited the judge." Zhou Mao muttered this poem.The three words Christiania, black, and judge seemed to form a familiar image in Zhou Mao's mind, but he couldn't tell what this image was or what it meant.

Everyone discussed the poem, but there was still no conclusion.

"Do you have any other views on the case?" Detective William looked around, seeing no one to speak, and announced the adjournment of the meeting.

This case seminar is a waste of time and useless.

Zhou Mao looked at the meeting minutes book that he only wrote down 3 sentences, and thought silently.

The author has something to say:

This chapter is all about the plot.Did I write too much plot in this story?

But it's not over yet!There are more pure drama chapters to come!I feel like I'm taking a data pill for this book! (actually ethane)