It was already afternoon, and the warm Sun light of late autumn shone into Sherlock Moriarty's home from the oriel window, shining on the face of this private Detective, causing the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses to reflect golden light, covering his eyes behind the lenses.
For a long time, he couldn't help but laugh, lowered his head, the corners of his mouth behind his beard twitched, and the abdominal muscles wrapped in his vest and shirt trembled.
"Haha, divination, divination master... Haha, hug, sorry," he stopped smiling under Angel's serious gaze, "So, divination master Miss, can you show your hand and open the eyes of this ignorant Detective? It's not that I don't believe you, it's just..."
The handsome performance was ruthlessly ridiculed, which made Angel's already not very beautiful mood even worse. She refused Moriarty's request without hesitation.
Fortunately, this Detective quickly returned to the topic. Perhaps he realized that the person sitting opposite was also a Beyonder, or perhaps he was curious about the truth behind the "suicide" of O'Neill's family. He quickly took a pen and paper and wrote down the location of the gang stronghold where Emily was rescued, and at the same time circled a street on the map.
"Right here, Cherwood Borough Winster Street, a house with shops downstairs and residential buildings upstairs."
After thinking for a moment, Moriarty stood up from the sofa, straightened his clothes, and walked towards the coat rack at the door of the living room.
"I'd better go with you to prevent you from looking in the wrong place," he said over his shoulder at the coat rack, "But I'm a private Detective, so this kind of thing is considered a commission and you have to pay for it."
Is this considered forceful buying and selling?
Angel put away the map and the note with the address, and looked at Detective who suddenly became more active.
"So, Sherlock Moriarty Detective, how much do you charge for this commission?"
"Given that this is after-sales service for Mr. O'Neill, 1 penny is enough."
Putting on his windbreaker, Detective responded with a bright smile.
Half an hour later, the two got off the hired carriage and stood in the center of Winster Street.
This road is more like an alley than a street. Due to its age, many of the buildings on both sides have been privately installed with roofs and supports that protrude from the main body. The originally not very spacious street can only barely pass a four-wheeled carriage. When two-wheeled hired carriages meet, they also need to slowly go around each other, otherwise they will inevitably bump into each other.
The location given by Moriarty is a three-story building sandwiched among these "illegal buildings." Since this gang's stronghold has not changed its original appearance, it looks a bit unique among the strange-looking buildings around it.
"This is it. The last time I came here, there were four or five gang members inside, but there were no guns or special ones."
He should mean "No Beyonder".
Angel nodded, looked at the endless stream of passers-by around him, gave up the idea of climbing through the walls and windows, took out the "Master Key", walked up the steps, inserted it directly into the keyhole and twisted it, opened the door as if he were back at home, and walked in.
The room was dark, with only the sunlight coming from the door illuminating the carpet, shoe cabinet and coat rack at the entrance. In Angel's Dark Vision, there was no sign of any human activity deeper in the living room.
Are you not at home, or have you evacuated?
She did not relax and quickly walked through the rooms on the first floor, and then went up to the second and third floors for a quick inspection.
"There is no one there, but there are traces of multiple people living there. Judging from the clothes, there were at least five or six people living there, all of them men. The ashtrays were not cleaned, and the food purchased was not rotten. I am afraid they all left in a hurry, and the time was not long, three days at most."
Returning to the first floor, Moriarty carefully entered the room, closed the door and turned on the light. Angel reported the results of his inspection.
"Three days... that should be the time after you saw Mr. O'Neill and before the O'Neill family committed suicide." Moriarty reached out to touch his chin, but retracted his right hand after touching his beard and continued, "It's strange that it has been more than a week since I reported to Police Station, and they are still here. Either there is a reason to deal with the police's investigation, or there are people from Police Station in Cherwood Borough."
"I'm going to go upstairs to look at their living area and look for clues. You're responsible for exploring the first floor and looking for a basement?"
He looked at the stairs leading to the second floor and made a quick decision.
Angel was thinking about how to get rid of this Beyonder Detective so that he could use Magic Mirror Divination to find clues. He immediately agreed after hearing his suggestion.
Watching the hem of Moriarty's windbreaker disappearing above the stairs, Angel took an almost full ashtray and two empty wine bottles from the living room, came to the study, stacked them together, took out Magic Mirror and recited:
"Magic Mirror Magic Mirror tell me the information about the owners of these items."
The scene of the living room of this building quickly appeared on the mirror. Several men in casual clothes were playing Fight Evil at the table. Some copper coins were piled on the corner of the table. The empty wine bottles were thrown on the floor. The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts.
"Let's go, Mr. Capim has a new mission, and it's still East Borough. In addition, they said this location can no longer be used. Pack your things and everyone leaves immediately."
At the order of a man who entered the living room, several people threw down their cigarette butts, put away their playing cards, and left the building through the back door.
"It seems that it was when they left three days ago. So, who is Capim? What is the mission assigned to them?"
Stroking the mirror again, Angel tried to divine who this "Mr. Capim" was.
Soon, the black mirror returned to normal, reflecting the ceiling of the study room and Angel's black hair.
"Insufficient information. Sure enough, there is no way to perform divination with just a name..."
Hearing the footsteps going downstairs, Angel quickly put away Magic Mirror and walked out of the study. He saw Moriarty walking quickly down the stairs to the first floor. He fastened the cufflinks on his left wrist with his right hand and held a lighter in his left hand.
"I found this above. It's Mr. O'Neill's lighter. I saw him using it many times while looking for clues. But when I found Emily, the lighter was still on him. This means that Mr. O'Neill came here after that, or someone brought the lighter to this building."
He explained and handed the lighter to Angel, who took it and looked at it carefully before finding the impression about it from the depths of his memory.
When Mr. O'Neill came to Divination Club for the first time, he took out this lighter several times. But the last time we met, he gave up several times when he wanted to light a cigarette. So it turned out that it was not that he had successfully quit smoking, but that he no longer had a lighter?
Stroking the cold metal surface of the copper lighter, Angel's heart gradually sank. Various signs showed that the death of O'Neill's family was probably related to these gangsters, and the "Mr. Capim" behind them...
Just as he was thinking about how to tell the other party the results of the divination, Moriarty had returned to the gate and turned off the gas lamp, as if he was not worried at all that the darkness would affect Angel.
"Let's go to O'Neill's house. There should be no more clues here."
"Do you know where his home is?"
Approaching the door, Angel asked curiously.
"At that time, I was afraid that something might happen on the road, so I planned to follow them home before leaving. Although I was declined by Mr. O'Neill, when I left, I heard the address he gave when he hired the carriage. I have good hearing and memory."
Shrugging, he pushed Door Opening down the steps and back to the lively street.
I didn't expect that this guy's memory is not only used to remember other people's nicknames, but also used in the right place...
Smiling, Angel left the building and thoughtfully locked the door for these gangsters who were not planning to come back.