Volume 1: The Gate of Flesh and Blood Chapter 15 Garden Club
Will Morey be the 'Mist Killer'?
When this question came to his mind, Goethe thought about the possibility.
Goethe believed that it was not impossible to achieve this as long as one could skillfully utilize the information gap.
And the way people like Swart behave, it makes things easier.
So Goethe had to be careful.
After all, he was going to meet the other party in the evening.
He didn't want the 'night of answers' to turn into a 'night of death'.
"I'll send a telegram."
After thinking for a moment, Swart immediately got up and left.
The sheriff did not explain more, and it was obvious that this was something that needed to be kept confidential.
Or the other party is deliberately being mysterious, hoping to gain more initiative in future cooperation.
Goethe didn't care about this.
He just wanted a definite answer.
If Morey is really the "Murderer in the Fog", it's actually not a bad thing.
At least, the other party was exposed.
Having been in Lust for so many days and appearing in the police station was enough to leave enough clues for the truly official extraordinary people to track down the other party, and he could take the opportunity to get out of the matter.
If not, then meet with the other party according to the original plan, find out more, and then think about the next step.
Yes or no, it's good for him.
So Goethe waited patiently.
An hour later, Swart returned with two blankets and two sleeping bags.
Seeing this scene, Goethe immediately knew the answer.
Morey has no problem.
If there was something wrong with Morey, Swart wouldn't be so 'laid back'.
In fact, this is true.
"Lord Morey has no problem."
As soon as he entered the office, Swart said directly.
Then, the sheriff handed Goethe a blanket and sleeping bag in a flattering manner.
"Although sleeping on the table is OK, I prefer lying flat on my back."
"A wool blanket will keep out moisture from the ground."
"And a sleeping bag gives you the illusion of lying in bed."
After saying that, the sheriff spread out the blanket and got into the sleeping bag, while continuing, "Of course, it's just an illusion. It's not really a bed, but it's better than lying in a 'copper-horned coffin.'"
"I don't know what those bastards came up with. They actually rented a warehouse, put rows of coffin-shaped beds in it, and rented them to homeless ."
"If someone dies, we can just put a lid on them and collect the body."
"Of course, it's better than those people who are half copper and can only sleep with their upper bodies hanging on ropes. I saw it before. Just as the day dawned and everyone was snoring loudly, the management cut the ropes and all the people who were sleeping fell to the ground. That feeling... Tsk."
At this point, the sheriff shook his head.
"But it's better than those who spend a quarter of a copper coin. These people can only sit on the floor or lean against the wall. They are not even allowed to lie down. Moreover, there are people patrolling all the time."
"However, those who cannot even enter such a 'shelter' are truly miserable. Lust in winter is even colder than one might imagine..."
As he spoke, the sheriff's voice gradually faded away.
Snoring began to occur.
Goethe glanced at the other person, spread out his blanket, and got into his sleeping bag, but he did not pull the sleeping bag up, but left it open.
The weather in June is not cold.
That's enough.
Goethe was half leaning and half lying, but his two revolvers were still on his body.
Even, I slept closer to the inside.
He didn't know whether danger would come, so he could only take precautions in advance.
Just like Swart.
Why would the other party choose to sleep with him in the police station office?
Naturally, he also sensed the danger.
Could it be that the office is more comfortable than the bed?
Being able to become a sheriff in this world may mean having many shortcomings, but he is definitely not a fool.
And the casual chat before going to bed?
The purpose is to show how difficult it is to make blankets and sleeping bags, and to bring the two closer together.
Is it a temptation or sympathy for the poor?
The former may still be possible.
the latter?
Goethe smiled and closed his eyes.
After a while, a light snoring sound was heard.
When Goethe woke up again, it was already six o'clock in the evening.
The sound of the grandfather clock in the police station lobby allowed Goethe to make an accurate judgment.
After getting out of his sleeping bag, Goethe put on his shoes and went straight into the bathroom.
Five minutes to wash up.
When Goethe returned to the office again, Swart had also woken up.
"Want to go to the Garden Club tonight?"
Looking at the confused Swart, Goethe asked directly.
Swat has poor abilities, but his identity comes in handy, especially when faced with some routine troubles.
"certainly!"
When the sheriff heard that Goethe was going to the garden club, he immediately became excited. He rushed into the bathroom to wash up, and asked his men to call a carriage.
“I haven’t been to the Garden Club in a long time.”
"I don't know if Ms. Sheila will perform on stage. Have you ever heard Ms. Sheila sing?"
“It’s really wonderful.”
As soon as he got in the car, the sheriff began to speak enthusiastically.
Sheila?
Long legs, sweet voice, and a mole at the corner of the mouth.
Hearing this name, Goethe, who was looking at the dim street outside, instantly had an image of a woman in a white dress standing next to the piano in his mind. She was the top star of the Garden Club and was well-known in Luster.
I can't dance with anyone at all, and I can only sing occasionally.
Besides, it costs extra money to listen to Shila singing.
1 gold gram.
A sky-high price for the poor.
But it was sought after by the middle class.
It seemed that spending this 1 gold gram made them different from the poor and gained an extraordinary status.
Goethe had spent it before.
Then, I had a deep memory of Sheila.
At least in Goethe's memory, this Ms. Silas was quite radiant.
Men are like that.
It's always like this.
Make it a habit to focus on the key points.
It's like when a beautiful athlete appears on the stage, she will immediately attract the attention , but when you ask about the number plate of that female athlete, there is a high probability that she will not be able to answer.
They are all focusing on the key points.
This was undoubtedly the case with Goethe before him.
Swart, who keeps mentioning Sheila?
I've even become addicted to it.
But Goethe didn't care.
It's not that I'm immune, but I've seen better.
After going through the baptism of makeup, beauty, and filters, Goethe's immunity has been greatly improved.
"If Ms. Sheila doesn't want to sing, we can find two lovely ladies to dance three dances, and then... hehehe."
Swart gave a smile that all men understood.
There are some special services in the garden club, but these special services also have thresholds.
You have to dance three dances first, and only if the lady you dance with doesn't mind, can you continue.
money?
Nature is essential.
In other words, money is the most important thing.
“We’re here! We’re here!”
Without the driver opening the door, Swart jumped out of the carriage.
Goethe then got out of the carriage.
The appearance of the two people immediately prompted the waiter standing at the door of the Garden Club to come over to greet them.
To be able to become a doorman at the Garden Club, one must have considerable vision.
The other party recognized Swart.
I also recognize Goethe.
The former is because of identity.
The latter was due to the frequent visits to the Garden Club and...some things that happened in the other party's home.
"Good evening, Sheriff Swart, Master Goethe."
The waiter smiled and bowed.
Even though deep down, the waiter was extremely curious as to why these two people got together, there was no sign of abnormality on his face.
Swart handed over two silver coins, which were the ticket money for both of them.
Goethe handed over two silver coins, which was the tea fee for two people.
The two of them walked into the door of the Garden Club with ease without the waiter's guidance.
The flashing neon lights make this place look particularly different.
The white walls, the clearly striped pillars, and the clean steps became even more dazzling under the colorful light, just like the thighs and breasts that you see when you walk up the steps and enter.
Ladies wearing heavy makeup gathered in groups of three or five in the hall inside the house. The crystal chandeliers hung high, making the entire hall bright and luxurious, completely separated from the barren world outside.
The chairs were scattered along the wall, and next to each chair there was a small coffee table with a pot of tea and a plate of snacks on it.
However, no one paid attention to this except Goethe.
Even Swart is no exception.
The sheriff is looking for a target.
At this moment, during the break in the dance music, it is the best opportunity to find a dance partner.
This was true for everyone in the hall.
Men are, and women are too.
So, when Goethe drank tea and ate snacks alone, he became noticeable.
Tea, bitter.
Dessert, slightly sweet.
Sorry 1 Silver Sole.
Goethe was quite sure of this.
But it's still swallowable. After all, people who come here don't care about these things.
As long as tea can quench your thirst, it's fine.
Snacks are good as long as they can relieve hunger.
Goethe picked up another piece of dessert, and at this time, a young girl dressed as a maid walked towards him.
When he saw this maid, if Goethe's previous behavior was eye-catching, then at this time Goethe was the focus of the whole audience.
Because the other person is Sheila's maid.
"Goethe! Goethe!"
"Look, it's Ms. Sheila's maid Susan!"
"She's coming toward me!"
"Have I attracted Ms. Sheila's attention?!"
Seeing the maid getting closer and closer, Swart became excited, while Goethe took a glance at it, put the snack in his mouth, and drank a sip of tea to moisten the snack and make it easier to swallow.
The other party was undoubtedly looking for him.
And this was naturally Morey's arrangement.
Thinking of this, Goethe was about to stand up, but the maid did not stop in front of Goethe, but passed Goethe and stood in front of Swart.
"Is that Sheriff Swart?"
"Ms. Sheila wishes to see you."
The maid whispered.
Swart was pleasantly surprised.
Goethe froze.
