Inside the evidence bag was a bloodstained letter opener.
Normally, the killer should have taken the murder weapon with him. Yet this letter opener had been left on Mills's body, like a trap deliberately laid.
Ye Yan put on gloves and took the letter opener out of the bag.
He reckoned that whoever had left traces on the weapon was probably a scapegoat.
That way, the real killer could throw the police off the trail and buy time, then later use the weapon as false evidence to clear himself of suspicion.
Unfortunately, the killer had miscalculated.
The person who had come to assist with the investigation wasn't a Light Servant skilled at uncovering hidden clues. It was Ye Yan, a Tracker who could trace the source directly through the power lingering on the knife.
[Coordinates available to record. Store them?]
Ye Yan silently answered, "Yes."
A faint ripple flowed from the letter opener into his fingertips. The needle of the Luck Compass began to tremble violently, then finally pointed in a fixed direction.
"Detective Lestrade, I need a map!"
At that, Lestrade immediately pulled out a detailed map of all of London and handed it over.
Ye Yan's finger quickly swept across the map.
At last, his index finger pressed a slight crease into the paper as he firmly pointed to a winding street near Whitechapel District.
"Black Raven Alley?" Detective Lestrade frowned. "The area's terribly rough. It's no place for decent people."
"Places like that are good for hiding." Ye Yan put away the map and asked, "Detective Lestrade, should we leave right away, or play it safe and gather some men to surround the place?"
Before Lestrade could answer, an unexpected voice cut into their conversation.
"Could I be of any help?"
Smith had somehow appeared behind Ye Yan and Lestrade. He looked at them with a smile.
"Although the Butler Family no longer has anything like its former influence in politics, its current head still holds the title of marquess and remains close to the royal family."
As he spoke, he pointed to the identification papers he was carrying.
"With a mid-level investigator from the Administration like me on hand, you can avoid some unnecessary trouble."
Ye Yan furrowed his brow slightly, a trace of wariness in his eyes.
"This case doesn't seem to have anything to do with you."
Smith spread his hands and gave an innocent shrug. "Do you need a reason to help a friend?"
A friend?
Ye Yan could tell Smith was deliberately trying to ingratiate himself, but the sudden change only made him more wary.
Was it because of their last operation?
Or because of Mycroft?
All sorts of possibilities flashed through Ye Yan's mind.
If Smith thought he was close to Mycroft and was therefore trying to build a relationship with his boss's friend, then he could only say Smith had miscalculated.
He didn't even know whether he could call Holmes a friend. His connection with Mycroft was even more casual.
And Smith had already repaid the favor of saving his younger brother last time.
Just then, Smith suddenly took a somewhat battered Diary from the briefcase he was carrying.
"I nearly forgot something important." Smith handed it to Ye Yan. "This is something your younger brother, Joseph, asked me to pass on to you. My task is finally complete."
The moment Ye Yan took Joseph's Diary, he realized that Smith had been the one who indirectly helped him before.
Smith had traveled all the way to France and even tracked down Joseph's exact address. He had gone to such lengths that Ye Yan couldn't help wondering whether there was something about him worth pursuing.
Lestrade raised his eyebrows at the sight.
Anyone a person trusted enough to entrust something to their family had to be a friend, didn't they?
Thinking that, he looked at Ye Yan with an expression that seemed to ask, "Are you sure he isn't your friend?"
Ye Yan felt awkward.
He really wasn't good at handling situations like this. He still distrusted Smith, yet Smith kept smiling at him and even tried to win him over in a way he couldn't refuse.
"Thank you."
In the end, all he managed was a stiff thank-you.
There was no point agonizing over it.
Whether Smith's kindness was bait wrapped in sugar or not, Ye Yan only needed to stick to one principle: accept the sweetener with a smile and send every bullet back.
That way, there shouldn't be any major problems.
Black Raven Alley was even more dilapidated than he'd imagined.
Low brick houses crowded both sides of the narrow alley. The air reeked of cheap tobacco and rotting food, and every so often a rat darted past.
The Compass's needle trembled faintly, then finally pointed toward a brick house screened by tattered cloth.
Ye Yan raised a hand to signal them.
Lestrade and Smith immediately drew their pistols and approached in silence, keeping to the blind spots.
Smith made a "wait" gesture.
As they'd agreed, once they reached the target, he would first scout out the enemy's position.
A soft hiss sounded.
It was like dry leather slowly tearing.
A gray-brown moth fluttered out from his sleeve. It circled several times beneath the dim yellow lamplight, its scales reflecting a faint glimmer, then disappeared into the darkness.
This was the first time Ye Yan had seen Smith use his ability with his own eyes.
When they'd first met, he'd only seen a moth approach him; there had been no way to know what Smith's ability really was. Watching him now, it seemed his ability was to summon a moth that could scout the area.
A few minutes later, the moth returned.
Smith gave Ye Yan and Lestrade a knowing look. They understood at once: there was only one target inside, and they could make their move.
Following the Compass's guidance, the three of them stopped outside a room on the top floor. Ye Yan leaned close to listen and faintly heard the rustle of turning pages inside.
The three of them immediately drew their pistols.
"Bang!"
The door was kicked open, and the room beyond lay in darkness.
A shadow leaped up from beside the desk and crashed through the window in an attempt to escape.
"Stop!"
Lestrade charged after him. Smith, right behind him, shot the man in the thigh.
"Damn it!" The man struggled, his face twisted with rage, but Lestrade had already stamped on his wrist and pressed the barrel of his gun to the man's temple.
"Don't move, sir," Lestrade warned coldly as he quickly slapped on the handcuffs.
The man finally stopped resisting, his frightened gaze sweeping over the three of them. When he recognized Lestrade, his expression changed abruptly. "You... you're..."
Ye Yan ignored his strange reaction and looked around instead. The room was cramped and terribly messy, and the desk was piled high with all kinds of newspapers and clippings.
"What's this?"
His gaze suddenly settled on an old bookcase.
His instincts told him something was wrong with it.
Ye Yan hurried over and carefully felt along the bookcase's edges. With a soft click, it slowly shifted aside, revealing a dark little room.
"You can't look in there, damn you!"
The restrained man began struggling again, shouting.
"Behave yourself!"
Lestrade held the man down by the shoulders while Ye Yan switched on his flashlight and cautiously stepped inside.
The moment its beam fell into the room, Ye Yan's breath caught. The walls of the secret room were covered with photographs and documents, all focused on one subject: little girls with blue eyes.
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