Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 413 Letter

Upon considering the possibility of the demon dog's owner, Klein immediately changed his strategy and recounted in great detail how he met Isinger Stanton through the serial murder case.

In addition, he also brought up the fact that Essinger Stanton organized a group of detectives to investigate the serial murders and successfully obtained part of the bounty.

"In that case, although I only offered some ideas—well, in the professional terms of the private detective industry, I provided advice—Mr. Stanton still considered my contribution the greatest, so I received the largest reward," Klein concluded.

The two police officers in charge of the interrogation quickly jotted down the information and asked if anyone could corroborate the above. Klein provided the names and addresses of private detectives such as Stuart and Kaslana.

"Very good, Mr. Moriarty, your answer is detailed enough." An officer put down his pen and asked, "How long did you stay at Isinger Stanton's house today? I mean from the time you entered until we found you."

After a moment's thought, Klein, without consulting Jürgen's lawyer, replied directly:

"About two to three minutes."

He was speaking from his genuine personal feelings.

Another officer raised an eyebrow and said:

"Several residents nearby can confirm that you entered Esinger Stanton’s home at around 2:10 p.m., while we arrived at the scene at 2:28 p.m., which means you were in the house for about 18 minutes, not two or three minutes!"

"What have you been doing for all this time? Why didn't you leave or call the police?"

Eighteen minutes have passed? Klein frowned abruptly.

He felt that he and the person silently watching him had been locked in a stalemate for no more than a minute, but how did a full eighteen minutes pass?

Was it that strange feeling of being watched that confused my sense of time, or was there some other reason? Is this the other party's extraordinary ability? If he really is the owner of the demon hound, he must be at least Sequence 6, and most likely Sequence 5... As Klein pondered in confusion, Jürgen leaned forward, preparing to accuse the police of leading questions.

This wasn't a very good reason; he just wanted to disrupt the interrogation process in this way and postpone the obviously unfavorable question from earlier.

Just then, Klein raised his hand and rubbed his temples, saying:

"Everything I just said is true. In my personal opinion, I was only inside Detective Essinger Stanton's house for two or three minutes."

At this point, he emphasized:

"Yes, in my personal opinion."

The two officers exchanged a glance and made a note of it.

After a brief silence, the officer who had asked the question spoke:

"During those eighteen minutes, a servant who had returned from an outing rang the doorbell, but no one answered. So he looked through the bay window and saw the body parts scattered on the floor and you standing at the door of the living room."

"He was terrified and ran to the police station to report the crime like a madman, which many passersby and some residents can confirm."

Klein ignored Jürgen's signal and shook his head to himself, saying:

"I didn't hear the doorbell ring."

The two officers exchanged another glance, made no comment, and simply took notes.

They then asked some questions about other details, and Klein, who had done nothing wrong and felt no guilt or remorse, answered them all truthfully.

Towards the end, he couldn't help but ask a question:

"Have you found Detective Isengard Stanton? I didn't see any bodies in the living room, so he should still be alive..."

A police officer tapped the table with his pen and said:

"This is also something that puzzles us. The only place in the whole house that showed signs of a struggle was the living room, and the windows were tightly closed and hadn't been opened for many days. You know, that's normal in the autumn and winter in Backlund."

"The attacker and Mr. Isinger Stanton left the room strangely and disappeared without a trace. We found no clues in the rest of the house or the surrounding area, not even a trace of blood."

Before Klein could speak, he answered his own question:

"You're probably thinking of the living room doors and the front door, but many people have confirmed that there was no chase in the vicinity, and no one took hostages or left with a body."

Perhaps it actually happened in the middle of the night? Perhaps they could walk through walls? Klein silently offered other possibilities in his mind and made a silent prayer:

May the goddess protect Detective Isengard Stanton from misfortune.

—The goddess of night is the queen of misfortune and fear.

After the interrogation, Klein was handcuffed and taken to a small room, while the police sent officers to accompany lawyer Jürgen to 15 Minsk Street to retrieve the letters and evidence.

After much fuss, Klein was finally granted bail of £50 by evening.

"This is much more expensive than last time. It would be difficult for a typical private investigator to come up with so much cash in such a short time." As he left the Hissac Police Station, Klein adjusted the collar of his wool coat and complained to Attorney Yulgen.

Jürgen maintained his professional and serious expression:

"Last time the situation was in your favor, but this time many doubts point to you."

As he signaled for the carriage to stop, he turned his head seriously and glanced at Klein:

"Sherlock, I am your lawyer. Before you answer the police's questions, you'd better have some communication with me, even if it's just eye contact."

"Don't just say things you think are okay. Untrained ordinary people can easily leave themselves open to criticism with their words."

This… I’ve gotten used to making up my own stories and solving my own problems… Klein recalled what had just happened and chuckled twice:

"Okay, I'll be careful."

Jürgen said no more and boarded the carriage.

Klein sat down opposite him, pondering the attack on Detective Isinger Stanton.

As he was thinking, he suddenly heard his stomach rumbling.

It had been half an hour past normal dinner time... Klein took out his gold-cased pocket watch, turned it on, and glanced at it.

He decided not to waste any more energy preparing food and started thinking about which restaurant was worth looking forward to.

At this moment, Jürgen raised his eyelids slightly and said:

"I've already asked my grandma to prepare dinner for three people."

"How could I possibly accept that?" Klein paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Mrs. Doris's cooking is always something to admire."

…………

When the two returned to Minsk Street in the Joewood district, it was already completely dark, and the glow of the gas streetlights was even brighter than the faint red moon in the sky.

After having dinner at the lawyer's house in Jürgen and petting the cat, Klein strolled back to the house at number 15 in the cold, damp air.

He habitually rummaged through the mailbox and took out a copy of the Backlund Evening Post, which had just been delivered.

Klein, holding the newspaper, opened the door and went inside. He had just put down his cane when he suddenly felt something was wrong.

His spiritual intuition told him that a stranger had entered his home!

Was it the police who came to collect evidence earlier? Klein looked around warily and suddenly noticed a letter on the coffee table.

There should only be newspapers there!

Klein entered the living room with a guarded eye, approaching the coffee table. Throughout the entire process, the surroundings were quiet and there was nothing unusual.

Klein glanced at the letter a few times, then took out black gloves and put them on before picking it up and opening it.

Inside the envelope was a thin sheet of paper. As soon as it was unfolded, a dark red color caught Klein's eye, and a faint smell of blood lingered in his nostrils.

On the letter, congealed blood wrote a line of words:

"You will all die!"

This…is this really the master of the Demon Hound? Is he taking revenge on those responsible for his subordinates' deaths? He's such a bully, why doesn't he just go after the Night Watchers in charge of the cleanup operation? Klein's heart tightened, and a multitude of thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.

However, he quickly dismissed his complaints. It was the most logical choice to start revenge on those he could handle, just like how he had been in Backlund for months and had never considered looking for Ince Zangwill, but had relentlessly pursued Lanius.

After looking around again, Klein gradually felt that this matter was somewhat puzzling:

"Isn't he afraid of being ambushed by powerful officials by retaliating in such a flamboyant way? Is this what he requested for his role as a magic potion actor?"

"Or rather, because Detective Essinger Stanton escaped, he knew he could no longer eliminate his targets covertly, so he had to find another way, but this way was meaningless, wasn't it?"

"Also, when we were at Stanton Detective Agency, he had clearly locked onto me and was watching me the whole time, so why didn't he make a move? Did he really care about an ordinary private detective like me?"

"No, that's impossible... He knows I'm an Extraordinary? It's possible. Because of the disorientation side effect of the Universal Key, I directly encountered the Demon Hound. It saw my appearance and figure. Although I disguised myself to some extent at the time, I don't know if a 'demon' can see through that..."

"Perhaps, after that incident, it was presented to its owner in some way..."

"But I couldn't even beat the Demon Hound back then, and could only flee in a sorry state. What did he have to worry about? Unless, he had something else to worry about, such as Isengard Stanton, who was hiding nearby because he was injured?"

"Did he write to me so ostentatiously because he thought that I, a self-made extraordinary person, would certainly not dare to seek official help?"

Klein, filled with questions, began inspecting the house, making his way up to the second floor.

When he opened the bedroom door, another letter caught his eye.

The letter lay quietly on the desk, as if it had been waiting for a long time.

Klein picked up the package, gently unfolded it, and saw a line of words outlined in dark red blood:

"You're next."

The next one... is really arrogant... Klein couldn't help but sigh.

Just then, he suddenly felt something, raised his head, and looked out the window.

Across the street were several two-story houses, each with its lights on.

The glow of the gas streetlights reflected off their exterior walls, creating areas of alternating light and shadow.

Suddenly, the shadows in those areas wriggled and twisted, forming a black shadow dressed in a sharp tuxedo.

The shadow raised its right hand, making a gun shape, and pointed it at Klein.

Immediately, it withdrew its arm and blew on the "muzzle".

Immediately afterwards, it fell backward silently, transforming once again into countless disconnected shadows.

(End of this chapter)