诡秘之主(The mysterious Lord)

'Who?

Kline, thinking of the mysterious suicide of the original owner and the unknown dangers he may encounter, hears the sudden knock on the door, unconsciously pulls open the drawer, takes out the revolver, and asks warily.

There was silence outside the door for two seconds, and a slightly shrill voice called out in an Ahoa voice:

"I, Mountbatten, Beech Mountbatten."

The voice paused and then added:

"Police."

Beach Mountbatten... As the name came to his ears, Crane immediately thought of its corresponding owner.

It was one of the policemen in charge of the block in which the apartment was situated, a rough, brutal, and hands-on man, but perhaps only such a man could shock the drunkards, the thieves, the part-time thieves, and the scoundrels and hooligans.

And his distinctive voice is one of his trademarks.

"Okay, I'll be right there!" Klein shouted back.

He had intended to throw the revolver back into the drawer, but thinking that the police outside had come for some unknown reason, and that there might be some sort of search, he cautiously ran to the stove where the embers had long been extinguished, and put the pistol in it.

Then he took the small basket of coal, shook a few pieces into the stove, put them over the gun, and finally put the kettle on top to hide everything.

Having done all this, he arranged his clothes, walked quickly to the door, and opened it while mumbling:

"Sorry, just taking a nap."

Outside the door stood four policemen in black and white checked uniforms and floppy caps. Beach Mountbatten, with a brown beard, coughed and said to Crane:

"These three officers want to ask you something."

A police officer? Klein reflexively looked at the epaulettes of the other three and noticed that two had three six-pointed silver stars and one had two, all of which looked superior to Beech Mountbatten, who had only three V-shaped tags.

As a history student, Klein had little knowledge of police epaulet ranks, except that Beach Mountbatten often boasted that he was a senior sergeant.

So, those three are inspectors? Influenced by the words of classmates such as Benson and Welch, Klein still knew a little common sense. He stepped aside and pointed into the room.

"Come in, please. I wonder what it is?"

The chief of the three officers was a fearsome middle-aged man with eyes so sharp that he seemed to be able to see through the mind. His eyes were wrinkled and his light brown hair showed at the edge of his hat. He surveyed the room and asked in a deep voice:

"You know Welch McGarwan, right?"

'What's wrong with him? Klein shuddered and blurted out a question.

"I'm asking you." The dignified middle-aged policeman had a stern look in his eyes.

The officer next to him, also wearing a three-star epaulet, looked at Klein and smiled gently.

"Don't be nervous. We're just asking customary questions."

The officer was about thirty, with a straight nose and gray eyes that were indescribably deep, like a lake in an ancient forest.

Klein took a deep breath and organized his words.

"If you're referring to a Hoy graduate, Welch McGarwan from Constanston, then I do know him. We went to school together under the same tutor, Senior Associate Professor Quentin Cohen."

In the kingdom of Ruen, "professor" is not only a title, or a position, just like the combination of professors and department chairs on Earth, that is, a university can only have one professor in a department, and associate professors can only wait for their immediate superiors to retire, or force each other out.

In view of the need to retain talents, after years of exploration, the Kingdom's Higher Education Commission added senior associate professors to the three-tier system of lecturers, associate professors and professors, giving high academic level or seniority enough, but can not become professors.

At this point, Crane looked into the young officer's eyes, considered for a second, and said:

"To be honest, our relationship was reasonably good, and he and I, along with Naya, met frequently during this time to interpret and discuss the 'Quaternary' literature he had obtained, a notebook, officer, what had happened to him?"

The middle-aged officer did not answer, but looked sideways at his grey-eyed companion.

The officer with ordinary grey eyes and a cap on his badge answered gently:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Welch has passed away."

"How come? Despite some foreboding, Klein could not help but utter amazement.

Welch is dead like the original owner?

That's kind of scary!

"What about Naya?" Klein pressed hurriedly.

"Lady Naya is dead, too." "They both died in Mr. Welch's residence," the gray-eyed officer said quietly.

"Murdered?" Klein had a vague guess.

Maybe it was suicide...

The gray-eyed officer shook his head.

"No, from the signs at the scene, they were suicides. Mr. Welch hit his head against the wall, so many times that it got blood all over the wall, and Lady Naya drowned herself in a birdbath, um, the kind you use to wash your face."

"It's impossible..." Crane's hair stood up as he listened, as if he could imagine the strange scene.

The girl knelt on the chair, buried her face into the basin filled with water, brown hair soft down, swaying with the wind, the whole person was still; Welch fell to the floor, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his forehead completely shattered and covered in blood, and the wall was hit in one place after another, blood dripping...

The grey-eyed officer moved the corners of his mouth and said:

"That's what we believe, but the autopsy results and the circumstances of the scene rule out drugs and external force, and there was no sign of resistance from either Mr. Welch or Ms. Naya."

Before Klein could speak again, he stepped into the room and asked, with a feigned casualness:

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Welch or Ms. Naya?"

He said, gesturing with his eyes to his companion, who had two silver stars.

It was a young police officer who looked about Klein's size, with black hair and green eyes, a nice face and the romantic air of a poet.

Hearing the question, Klein thought quickly and thought of an answer:

"It must have been June 26, we read a new note together, and then I went home to prepare for my interview on the 30th, um, the interview for the history department at Tingen University."

The city of Tingen is known as the city of universities, there are two universities, Tingen and Hoy, there are technical schools, barristers, business schools, second only to the capital Baekeland.

As soon as he said that, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young officer go to his desk and pick up the "note" that was more like a diary.

Oh my goodness! Forgot to hide it! Klein shouted briefly, "You!"

The young officer smiled back, but did not stop reading his notes, and the gray-eyed officer explained:

"It's a necessary procedure."

By this time Beach Mountbatten and the dignified middle-aged officer were merely watching, without interrupting, without assisting in the search.

Where's your search warrant? Crane was about to ask, but on second thought, it seemed that the judicial system in the Kingdom of Ruon had not yet evolved such a thing as a search warrant, at least he did not know if it had, after all, the police force had only been established for fifteen or sixteen years.

When the original owner was a kid, he was called the sheriff.

Unable to stop, Klein watched as the young officer flipped through "his notes," and the gray-eyed officer didn't ask any more questions.

'What strange things? Turning to the end, the young officer suddenly said, "And what does this mean? 'Everyone dies, including me'..."

Isn't it common sense that everyone dies except the gods? Cline was ready to quiver, but suddenly thought that he had planned to "connect with the police" to guard against the danger that might be encountered, but suffered from no reason, no excuse.

In less than a second, he made his decision, put his hand to his forehead, and answered in a painful voice:

"I don't know, I really don't know... When I woke up this morning, I felt like I wasn't right. I felt like I had forgotten something, especially the last few days, and I didn't even know why I was writing that sentence."

Sometimes, frankness is the best way to solve problems, of course, frankness is about skills, what can be said and what cannot be said is on the one hand, and what should be said first and what should be said later is another.

As a keyboard expert, Klein has also studied a bit of speech.

"Ridiculous! Do you think we are fools?" Beach Mountbatten interjected angrily. He could not bear it.

This lie is so clumsy, it is an insult to oneself and other people's intelligence!

It's better to pretend you're a psychopath than to have amnesia!

"Really." Crane answered the gaze of Mountbatten and the middle-aged officer calmly.

It really couldn't be any more true.

"Maybe it is." Then the gray-eyed officer spoke slowly.

What? So you believe me? Klein was surprised.

The gray-eyed officer smiled at him and said:

"A specialist will be here in a couple of days, and believe me, she should be able to help you recall your lost memories."

An expert? To help with memory? In the field of psychology? Klein frowned.

Whoosh! What if this brings up memories of my earth? He suddenly felt a toothache.

The young officer put down his notes and searched the desk and room again. Fortunately, he focused on the books and did not lift the kettle to look at them.

"Well, Mr. Crane, thank you for your cooperation. You'd better not leave Tingen for the next few days. If you must, please inform Sergeant Mountbatten, or you'll be a fugitive." Grey-eyed sergeant finally said.

So this is the end? Call it a day? No more questions, no more inquiries? Or take me back to the station and torture me? Crane was perplexed.

But he also wanted to put the weirdness of Welch behind him, so he nodded:

"No problem."

The officers exited the room in turn, and the young man at the end suddenly patted Klein on the shoulder:

"Very good, very lucky."

'What? Klein looked confused.

The green-eyed, poet-looking officer smiled.

"It's normal for all the people involved to die in an incident like this."

"We are so happy and lucky to see you alive."

With that he went out of the room and closed the door behind him in a polite manner.

Is it normal for everyone to die? Glad I'm alive, you know? Lucky I'm alive?

On this June afternoon, Klein was cold.