With a click, Angel turned the lock and entered Mr. O'Neill's home.
Sherlock Moriarty, following behind her, curiously eyed the brass key in her hand and could not help asking in a low voice:
"Is that a Mystical Item?"
"Yes. It can pick locks, but its side effect is rather expensive."
Angel answered as she slipped the key back into her pocket.
Over the past few days, she had spent more than two pounds on hired carriages just to avoid getting lost. If she had not been likely to need its lockpicking ability today, she would not have wanted to bring this "Master Key" at all.
No wonder Madam Bernadette had said to use it as little as possible...
After turning on the gas lamps, the foyer and living room were illuminated by the warm light from the large fixtures overhead. Compared with the gang hideout they had just visited, Mr. O'Neill's residence could be called lavish.
Since the death scene was not in the house, the police had not searched the residence. They had merely locked the doors and windows, sealing it up to await the transfer or disposal of the estate. Several days had passed, and aside from a faint layer of dust on the tables and chairs, the furnishings appeared unchanged from when the family had left.
"They were wealthier than I imagined. Could Emily have been kidnapped so they could extort money from Mr. O'Neill? But why had no threatening letter arrived, even a week after the kidnapping?"
As if speaking to himself, yet also discussing the matter with Angel, Moriarty circled the living room, his gaze moving between the paintings on the walls, the exquisite tea set on the table, and the braziers piled beside the fireplace.
Angel inspected the rooms connected to the living