Chapter: 561
Fortunately, I'm also a professional... I feel like Moriarty... Klein re-examined the scene, and after confirming that there was nothing wrong, he started to watch the ticking hands of his pocket watch.
After passing the estimated limit, he put on his gold-rimmed glasses, waited for a few more minutes, and then opened the door and walked out.
At this time, the sky in Backlund was already dark, and the gas lamps on the street illuminated the rainy environment.
As a neighborhood where the middle class gathers, Minsk Street is often patrolled by the police. After waiting for a while, Klein spotted the target and immediately went to meet him.
Those were two low-level police officers with only a V on their epaulettes. They were carrying guns, short sticks, and umbrellas, and they were looking around.
"Officer! There are gangsters attacking me!" Klein shouted skillfully.
His embarrassed appearance made the two police officers dare not neglect, each drew out their short sticks, and looked to the side warily.
"Where's the gangster?" The brown-eyed policeman with a round face asked in a deep voice.
Klein pointed to his house and said:
"He sneaked into my house and tried to kill me!"
"During the fight, I accidentally stabbed him to death!"
Stabbed to death... The two police officers looked at each other, looked at Klein with a censorship and said:
"Take us there."
"Okay!" Klein pretended to be the survivor of the disaster, and led the two police officers to No. 15 Minsk Street, took out the key, and opened the gate.
The two police officers first saw the messy scene, and then they noticed the corpse lying on the ground, the hideous wound on the other's throat, and a bloody dagger.
"You protect the scene, I'll go back to the police station and report to the chief." Another police officer said to his companion with a round face and brown eyes.
"Okay." The round-faced and brown-eyed police officer turned his gaze to Klein, the expression on his face and the language of his body revealing his vigilance and vigilance.
After a while, the sergeant, wearing a black and white checkered uniform with three Vs on his shoulders, arrived with the previous police officers and two other subordinates.
While the police inspected the scene and collected clues, the police chief with a short brown beard took Klein aside and made preliminary inquiries:
"Name."
"Sherlock Moriarty, here are my rent bills, for half a year." Klein took out the things he had prepared a long time ago.
The sheriff took a casual look and continued to ask:
"what occupation?"
"Private detective." Klein replied frankly.
The sheriff frowned and said, "Do you know the deceased? Do you know why he attacked you?"
"I know him. His name is Meursault, the executioner of the Zmanger Party." Klein didn't wait for the other party to ask, and said to himself, "I accepted a commission from Ian Wright before. He Let me investigate his former employer, Detective Zariel Victor Lee, this matter happens to be related to the Zmanger Party and Meursault."
"I followed the other party, and found that he was secretly meeting with a very prestigious gentleman. He called him Mr. Ambassador." After saying this, Klein saw the sheriff's expression change a few times as expected.
"The ambassador... do you know his name?" the sheriff asked in a deep voice, talking to himself.
"I don't know, but if I see his photo, I will definitely recognize it." Klein said the truth, "This morning, Meursault came to visit me and asked me to look for Ian Wright, based on the profession of a private detective Morality, I rejected him, and as a result, in the evening, as soon as I returned home, I was attacked and almost killed by him, fortunately, my fighting skills are not bad, and my reaction is quick enough."
The sheriff pondered for a moment, and then asked about the specific fighting process. Klein described it almost literally, at most changing a premonition into a reaction, and changing the standard contract thrown at the end into a dagger dropped by the other party. JrNovels.com
After passing the estimated limit, he put on his gold-rimmed glasses, waited for a few more minutes, and then opened the door and walked out.
At this time, the sky in Backlund was already dark, and the gas lamps on the street illuminated the rainy environment.
As a neighborhood where the middle class gathers, Minsk Street is often patrolled by the police. After waiting for a while, Klein spotted the target and immediately went to meet him.
Those were two low-level police officers with only a V on their epaulettes. They were carrying guns, short sticks, and umbrellas, and they were looking around.
"Officer! There are gangsters attacking me!" Klein shouted skillfully.
His embarrassed appearance made the two police officers dare not neglect, each drew out their short sticks, and looked to the side warily.
"Where's the gangster?" The brown-eyed policeman with a round face asked in a deep voice.
Klein pointed to his house and said:
"He sneaked into my house and tried to kill me!"
"During the fight, I accidentally stabbed him to death!"
Stabbed to death... The two police officers looked at each other, looked at Klein with a censorship and said:
"Take us there."
"Okay!" Klein pretended to be the survivor of the disaster, and led the two police officers to No. 15 Minsk Street, took out the key, and opened the gate.
The two police officers first saw the messy scene, and then they noticed the corpse lying on the ground, the hideous wound on the other's throat, and a bloody dagger.
"You protect the scene, I'll go back to the police station and report to the chief." Another police officer said to his companion with a round face and brown eyes.
"Okay." The round-faced and brown-eyed police officer turned his gaze to Klein, the expression on his face and the language of his body revealing his vigilance and vigilance.
After a while, the sergeant, wearing a black and white checkered uniform with three Vs on his shoulders, arrived with the previous police officers and two other subordinates.
While the police inspected the scene and collected clues, the police chief with a short brown beard took Klein aside and made preliminary inquiries:
"Name."
"Sherlock Moriarty, here are my rent bills, for half a year." Klein took out the things he had prepared a long time ago.
The sheriff took a casual look and continued to ask:
"what occupation?"
"Private detective." Klein replied frankly.
The sheriff frowned and said, "Do you know the deceased? Do you know why he attacked you?"
"I know him. His name is Meursault, the executioner of the Zmanger Party." Klein didn't wait for the other party to ask, and said to himself, "I accepted a commission from Ian Wright before. He Let me investigate his former employer, Detective Zariel Victor Lee, this matter happens to be related to the Zmanger Party and Meursault."
"I followed the other party, and found that he was secretly meeting with a very prestigious gentleman. He called him Mr. Ambassador." After saying this, Klein saw the sheriff's expression change a few times as expected.
"The ambassador... do you know his name?" the sheriff asked in a deep voice, talking to himself.
"I don't know, but if I see his photo, I will definitely recognize it." Klein said the truth, "This morning, Meursault came to visit me and asked me to look for Ian Wright, based on the profession of a private detective Morality, I rejected him, and as a result, in the evening, as soon as I returned home, I was attacked and almost killed by him, fortunately, my fighting skills are not bad, and my reaction is quick enough."
The sheriff pondered for a moment, and then asked about the specific fighting process. Klein described it almost literally, at most changing a premonition into a reaction, and changing the standard contract thrown at the end into a dagger dropped by the other party. JrNovels.com
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