marvelous rosaline

09

Queens, some underground casino.

The closed and dark environment was filled with tobacco, alcohol, sweat, and an unexplainable sour stench.The lights in the basement were pulled down very low, and people who were slightly taller would always bump into the lights when they got up and sat down, making the light source in the whole room wobble.

But this does not affect the enthusiasm of the basement gamblers.

Wine bottles collided, the crowd shouted, and the sound of chips falling one after another.

Under such circumstances, the gamblers concentrated their attention, and Rosalin, who deliberately dressed in a low-key manner, blended into it, and did not attract anyone's attention.

She stopped at a card table.

With just one glance, she grasped the situation of the poker table: in the classic blackjack game, whoever gets close to the board first and does not exceed 21 points will win.

The cards in the hands of the gambler in front of Rosalin already add up to 12 points, and the dealer's revealed card is the starting point.

The man sitting in front of the poker table was obviously in hesitation: should he continue calling or stop calling?

At this time, any card greater than 10 will make him lose the game.

"Hit or Stand?" the dealer asked.

"Hit."

Rosalin spoke suddenly.

She saw the man sitting in front of her suddenly vigilant.

His back moved slightly under the cloth, in a posture of complete alertness.The man slowly turned his head and looked at Rosalind.

When he noticed the handsome face under the brim of Rosalind's hat, he grinned: "Good day, beauty. Just listen to you."

After speaking, he looked at the dealer: "Hit."

The new card dealt to him was an eight of hearts.

The man whistled and spread out the cards in his hand on the table, then he stood up and turned around, his tall and strong body completely enveloped Rosalin.But he imitated the appearance of a gentleman, took Rosalin's hand in a serious manner, and gave her a gentle kiss on the back of her hand: "A few days ago a gypsy woman told me that I would have good luck in front of beauties." , appears to be true."

"It's not good luck."

Rosalin corrected him very seriously: "The point in your hand is 12, and the banker's is 7. At this time, if you choose Stand, the probability of the banker's bust—that is, the probability of your winning is only 26.3%, but if you choose Hit, the situation is much more complicated, but the overall calculation, the probability of winning is about 43%. In comparison, of course, the winning rate of choosing Hit to continue to draw cards is higher."

man:"……"

No matter what, the other party would never have imagined that the delicate and slender beauty in front of her would actually speak a series of mathematical explanations.

Roselin finally concluded: "Probability, it's very simple."

man:"…………"

He squinted his eyes, and the smile just now disappeared suddenly.

"I think, beauty." A look of vigilance appeared on the man's angular face: "You should not be a frequent visitor to the casino."

Rosalin tilted her head.

Sebastian Moran was right, the Mule was indeed a murderer.

Even if her sense of smell immediately fails, and she can no longer smell the smell of a man's corpse that is no less than Anansi's, Rosalin can still smell the shape of the gun under his jacket, the rough calluses on his hands, and the dirt on his shirt. The faint bloodstains confirm this.

A desperado who wanted to write the word "dangerous" on his face.

"Mule" speaks with a typical southern accent, and he also looks like a cowboy who just came to the big city from the country.

His appearance was very similar to that on the arrest warrant, mainly because the scar across most of his face and the crooked nose were too conspicuous.

Rosalin noticed that his hands had been intentionally or unintentionally placed on the edge of his jacket, ready to draw his gun at any moment.

"Take up your posture." She said calmly: "This is New York, your style in the Midwest is not suitable for a metropolis."

"That doesn't mean I have to sit still, does it, beauty?" he laughed.

"I didn't come to arrest you."

Rosalin went straight to the point: "Old Mr. Fabio Romano asked me to come to you, saying that you have clues about Oedipus."

"Oedipus?"

The mule was taken aback for a moment, and then realized immediately: "Old Fabio asked you to come, he was talking about the British man, right?"

British?

Well, now there is no clue about Oedipus, but Rosalin still roughly pieced together the general image of this legendary character.

He is a man, British, and a former confidant of James Moriarty. He is at least in his 40s now, and he is the same age as his mother and Miranda.Oedipus betrayed the professor. It is estimated that he stole the Da Vinci manuscript from the professor and entrusted it to his mother, and then he was protected by the Romano family.

One after another, the clues are connected with each other, and Rosalin actually roughly understands the cause and effect of that year.

Now the only thing left is Oedipus' motives for betraying the professor and how he met his mother.

"I thought we could talk somewhere else, beauty."

Mule left the poker table, not forgetting to pick up the chips he had just won: "May I buy you a drink?"

Rosalin: "Thank you, but forget it, I need to think clearly."

Mule curled his lips: "A beautiful girl like you, why bother to get involved in this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing do you mean by this kind of thing?"

"At best, I have killed people, but I never thought of changing the laws of operation of a country or even the world."

The mule walked towards the bar of the underground casino. He tossed some of the chips to the bartender behind the dilapidated bar, and took the beer from him.

Under the influence of Prohibition, even such a low-alcohol beer was expensive.

"Do you know Oedipus?" Rosalind asked.

"It's hard to know."

Mule leaned against the edge of the bar and smiled slightly: "It's just that he entrusted me to do something."

Rosalind: "I need to know his clues."

Mule: "Well, you need to find what he's hiding, right?"

Rosalin's heart moved: "That's right."

He knows that Oedipus is hiding something, and it seems the mule does.

However, after Rosalin answered in the affirmative, the other party just raised an almost bright smile.

It's just that for a desperado, such a smile is not necessarily kind.The mule leaning against the edge of the bar was dangerous and sharp, his light pupils and eyebrows so pale that they were almost invisible hidden in the darkness, he looked more menacing than at the gaming table.

The mule turned his head and looked at Rosalind, as if she was a dish on his table.

"But, beauty." The man brought the bottle to his mouth: "Why should I help you?"

Thiago would probably say now if you don't help me I'll call the police.

If it was Moran, it might be more straightforward. The loaded gun has already been pressed against the mule's forehead.

But Rosalin hoped that this matter could be resolved peacefully.

She thought for a while and took out a business card from her pocket.

The business card had just been printed, with her name and the address of the Mara & Poirot detective agency written on it.

"I'm a private detective." Rosalin said, "Maybe I can find a suitable lawyer for you."

"lawyer."

The mule repeated Rosalind's words, very disdainful.

"If I wanted to offend myself, beauty." He responded with a southern accent, "I wouldn't break the law at all."

"what do you want?"

The mule's eyes scanned Rosalin again.

Then the smile on his face became even more obvious: "You accompany me on a date, beauty, I will tell you."

Rosalin fell silent.

Not disgust, not resistance, but...

Her green eyes widened slightly, and then she came back to look at the mule's face.

For the first time in her life, Rosalind Poirot received a straight-up sexual assault from the opposite sex!

Before this, Roseline had never had a similar experience.Whether in Belgium, Paris, or England, she always had a guardian by her side, and even if she expressed goodwill to her, the young people would be very tactful in front of Miss Marple.

And coming to New York wasn't much worse.

Needless to say Miranda and Sam, Gatsby has an attitude of "I am your brother", even Tiago and Moran are similar.

The mule's straightforward words stunned Rosalin for a moment, and then felt a sense of novelty.

In all fairness, Mule wasn't handsome, but he made up for it with a menacing air and a strong manliness.Girls who are a little bolder, without knowing that he is a wanted criminal, will definitely be attracted by his temperament.

but--

Rosalin turned her head indifferently.

"Yes, yes."

She replied honestly: "But I won't be tempted."

Rosalin didn't care whether the other party was a murderer or not, she thought the mule was pretty good.

But she was telling the truth.

"I don't like your smile," she said, "I like men who look good when they smile."

"How do you know if you don't try it?"

Mule was not discouraged, he said confidently: "Believe me, beauty, you won't be tempted now, you will definitely get in touch with me."

Rosalind: "Wow."

Mule: "Huh?"

Rosalind: "This is the legendary..."

Ordinary but confident!

It was the first time for Rosalin to come into contact with such a person.

She suddenly became interested: "Okay, you book a place. But it's okay, I'm going on a date with you, and you have to give me the clue of Oedipus."

…………

……

"You—what?!"

That night, inside the detective agency.

Thiago was shocked when he heard Rosalind's words, and stood up directly.

The baby-faced young man was shocked: "You promised to date the mule... Rosalin, he is a murderer, and he has five lives!"

Rosalin looked even more surprised than Tiago.

"Say murderer." Rosalin glanced at Moran, "You and I are in the same room with a more professional murderer."

"..."

Thiago choked.

It's true that the mule is in debt, but compared to Sebastian Morum... it may not be a big deal.

Thiago scratched his hair, wondering: "But I don't think it's appropriate."

Rosalind: "Why?"

She was a little upset: "I just went on a date, nothing else!"

Thiago: "That's why!"

He wanted to say something more, but when he reached his mouth, he was interrupted by a crisp "click".

With a stern face, Moran loaded the bullet in his hand.

"Let her go," he said. "It'll be all right."