Living Paper

nostalgia/article

Huo Zhenye continued to run to the church, the clues had not been completely disconnected, maybe there was still a connection between the church and the church.

He asked about the joint activities between the churches, and the priest told him that each church has its own activity time, and the congregants do not flow among each other.

Whichever priest they listen to and which church they enroll in, they will always be in this church.

Huo Zhenye ran to the second church. Father Brown was more enthusiastic than Father John. After he heard Huo Zhenye say that the only connection between the three churches is religious belief.

He solemnly said: "This must be a conspiracy of Satan."

Huo Zhenye almost shouted, Father Brown is actually a devil theorist.

Father Brown held up the cross, the evening sunlight cast from the stained glass dome of the church, the holy light reflected on his face, he said to Huo Zhenye: "Satan is the source of all evil, countless evil spirits serve this winged devil, he will To lure mankind to evil..."

Huo Zhenye had a toothache when he heard it, and he just wanted to interrupt Father Brown's words.

A middle-aged man with a dejected face came forward. His clothes were made of very elegant materials, but the clothes looked empty, indicating that he had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time, and it was too late to make a new suit.

The man's face was very ugly, as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep for months, he whispered: "Father."

"Mr. Song, is your wife feeling better?"

"Father, please give me some more holy water."

Huo Zhenye raised his eyebrows, watching Father Brown scoop out some water from the baptismal pool and put it in a glass bottle.

Father Brown handed the holy water to the man and crossed him: "May the Lord bless you, your child must be surrounded by God at this time."

This sentence caught Huo Zhenye's attention, and when the man walked away, he asked, "What happened to his child?"

Father Brown had a sad face. Mr. Song and Mrs. Song are a very loving couple. They have a very cute boy. The whole family is devout believers and donates a lot of money to the church every year.

Mr. Song's son was kidnapped last year. Although he paid the kidnapper a large ransom, the child failed to come back, and Mrs. Song has been ill since then.

"What is the child's birthday?"

Father Brown shook his head. He only knew the names of the three members of this family.

Huo Zhenye wrote down the name, thought of something, raised his head and asked, "Mr. Song only donates in this church?"

Father Brown said: "Mr. Song's family is very devout believers. They are very generous. At Christmas, they will personally distribute gifts."

That is to say, donate more than this one.

Huo Zhenye drove back to the arresting room, and said to Datou: "About a year ago, a comprador businessman named Song Fusheng had his son kidnapped. Look at how old his child was and when he was born. "

The big head dug out the old case file from a year ago, and was stunned when he took it out. Song Fusheng's son Song Mingjie, ten years old, was born on September 9th.

He was robbed when he was shopping for birthday presents with his mother. On his birthday, he was "returned" to his parents by the kidnappers.

The big head opened his mouth wide: "Could it be related?" The birth dates of these children are also too coincidental.

Huo Zhenye felt that it was impossible to make such a conclusion, but it was indeed a clue: "Let's go to Song's house."

Song Fusheng came home with the holy water. The driver had already resigned. He drove by himself and parked the car in the garden.

A year ago, this garden was still my wife's favorite place. She planted flowers and raised dogs here, and my son played badminton and rode children's bicycles in the garden.

But now the garden was overgrown with weeds, and the afterglow of the setting sun brushed past the house and cast its shadow on the house in front of it, which happened to be in shadow.

Song Fusheng stepped into the shadows, as if walking from the golden autumn and September to the cold winter. He tightened his suit, pushed the door and walked in.

The maid was poking her head around the hall, waiting for Song Fusheng to come back.

"How is your wife?" Song Fusheng handed the purse to the maid.

The maid took a quick look at him: "My wife has been upstairs, and she didn't come down." Some time ago, she was obviously better, but during this time, her wife's illness became serious again.

"Has she eaten yet?"

The maid shook her head: "No."

Just as Song Fusheng was about to go upstairs, the maid said to him again: "Sir, I will do it today and not tomorrow. When will the person you invite come?" She can leave when she comes.

Song Fusheng waved his hand: "Don't worry about it, I'll pay you an extra month's wages."

The maid was very witty, and retreated to the kitchen after listening to it, and prepared dinner for Song Fusheng. She couldn't even wait to stay overnight, and left as soon as she got her wages.

Three servants have already left this month, and if this one leaves, there will only be him and his wife in this building, two people.

Song Fusheng climbed up the stairs and saw that the maid didn't even bring the food to the door, so he put the tray on the stairs. I dare not give it to her.

But his anger was quickly extinguished, and he gently pushed open the door of his wife's room: "Yingying, I'm back, how are you today, are you feeling better?"

The curtains in the room were drawn tightly, and only a little yellow light came through the gaps. The woman sat beside the crib, shaking the crib gently, humming a lullaby.

Turn a blind eye to her husband, listen but don't hear.

Song Fusheng didn't wait for his wife's response, he took out bread and milk and put them on the table by the door: "Eat something when you're hungry."

The milk bottle was mixed with the holy water he had got from Father Brown, and the last time he drank the holy water his wife talked to him, just drink more and she'll be all right, she'll be all right.

The woman laughed and sang to the rocking bed, but she didn't even look at Song Fusheng.

Song Fusheng went downstairs dejectedly, and handed the money to the maid, who left the Song house with her bag in her hand. There was only one piece of toast on the dining table.

Huo Zhenye and Datou knocked on the door of the Song family, and Song Fusheng was a little flustered: "Are you... who are you looking for?"

Huo Zhenye took out the consultant certificate of the arrest house and handed it to Song Fusheng: "Three children have been missing recently, let's find out the situation."

The muscles on Song Fusheng's face trembled twice, and he lowered his voice: "I'm sorry, my wife can't stand the stimulation, let's go to the garden and talk, don't let her hear you."

Before Huo Zhenye came, he checked old newspapers from the past year, and this case caused a great sensation at the time.

After the kidnappers took a large amount of ransom, they returned the child's body in a wooden box. On the day of the child's birthday, the wooden box was tied with a ribbon, so that the parents of the child would open the package like a gift. The dead body of the child.

This case has yet to be solved by the arrest house.

The three went to the garden together.

Song Fusheng was very nervous, as if he was afraid that his wife would find out, so he looked back upstairs from time to time.

"The three families with lost children have not received letters or phone calls from the kidnappers asking for ransom." Huo Zhenye said while looking at the house, why is it so gloomy here.

"Then, what do you want from me?" Song Fusheng's face was pale, but he seemed relieved when he heard Huo Zhenye say that.

"That's right, the birthdays of the three lost children are all the same as your child's."

Song Fusheng was greatly shocked, he stammered and asked, "Really?"

His surprised expression did not seem to be fake, Huo Zhenye asked: "Do you have any clues about this?"

The curtains of the window on the second floor were opened a little, and a snow-white woman's face appeared in front of the window. She looked downstairs with a dazed look, as if she saw Huo Zhenye, but she didn't seem to see it.

Huo Zhenye also raised his head and took a quick look. What she was holding in her arms was a child?

Song Fusheng also saw it. He lowered his head, as if he couldn't say anything: "That's... a doll, my wife can't stand the blow, she thinks the doll is Xiaojie..."

Song Fusheng couldn't continue, and Datou sucked his nose loudly.

In this situation, even Huo Zhenye couldn't ask any more: "If you have any clues about the kidnappers, I hope you can contact us."

Song Fusheng shook his head: "I don't have any clues. If I do, I will definitely call you. I hope the three families can... find the child."

Huo Zhenye turned around and walked away, then turned to Song Fusheng and said, "Mr. Song, holy water won't have any effect on mental illness. You should take Mrs. Song to see a western doctor."

Song Fusheng smiled wryly: "Thank you, Mr. Huo."

The first man wiped his tears with his sleeve after wiping his nose.

This trip didn't find any useful clues, but Huo Zhenye just felt that something was wrong. He walked to the side of the car and looked up at the small brick western-style building: "Do you think this house is particularly shady?"

The big head glanced at the house immersed in the shadows: "It seems that there are some, maybe it's night."

Huo Zhenye took a last look at the house, Mrs. Song was still standing there, she seemed to have seen them, but she didn't, she was patting and coaxing the "doll".

Just as Huo Zhenye was about to lower his head, he caught a glimpse of the "doll"'s head moving from the corner of his eye.

He looked again and saw that the curtains on the second floor moved slightly, and Mrs. Song was no longer there.

Song Fusheng sent Huo Zhenye and Datou away, and was about to return to the room when Mrs. Song's door next door opened a crack, and she peeked out one eye.

That eye stared at Song Fusheng without blinking: "Who?"

Her voice was high-pitched and thin, like shaving someone's scalp with a razor.

Song Fusheng trembled all over: "Yes, it's two policemen who come to ask about three lost children." He rekindled his hope that his wife would wake up and they could still live their original lives.

But the door slammed shut.

Song Fusheng walked into the house dejectedly. This was a room converted from a study. He didn't dare to step into that room. He sat by the window and watched the sun slide down from the sky little by little.

Before the last light disappeared, Song Fusheng tightly locked the door of the study room, huddled in the blanket, and held the cross that he wore close to his body in the palm of his hand.

As soon as the sun went down, the quiet house suddenly became noisy. There was the sound of toy cars in the corridor, and then the sound of children running up and down the stairs.

Finally, there was a knock on the door of Song Fusheng's study.

"Tuk, tuk, tuk."

Song Fusheng was terrified. All the lights in his room were on, but he still didn't dare to stick his head out of the blanket. He said in a muffled voice, "Xiaojie, Dad is busy. Dad has to work. Can you play by yourself?"

The small leather shoes parked at the door did not move, and there was a rustling sound from the opposite side of the door.

It seems that the person outside the door is squatting down, lying on the ground, looking in through the crack of the door.

There is no one at the desk.

"Xiaojie" was angry that his father lied to him!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The door panel was knocked and vibrated, every sound complained of anger!If Song Fusheng didn't open it, "Xiaojie" would not give up, and knocked on the wooden door again every few minutes.

He also let the car crash into the door of the study, and the door lock was turned and twisted by it.

Song Fusheng was trembling with fear, he begged intermittently: "Xiaojie, Dad really needs to work, Dad has to work hard to buy gifts for Xiaojie, doesn't Xiaojie want a birthday present?"

Xiaojie paused, as if thinking.

The sound of the little leather shoes gradually moved away, and Song Fusheng heaved a sigh of relief as soon as the "da da da" sound was far away, but after a while, his nerves tightened up again.

The sound came back slowly, this time the leather shoes sounded especially slowly.

"Xiaojie" was no longer in a hurry to ask him to open the door, but stood in front of the door, jingled, and shook the key in his hand.

"Click", the key was inserted into the door lock and turned gently.

The door was slowly pushed open.

"Xiaojie" stood at the door, grinned at Song Fusheng, then tilted his head.

I got you!why don't you work