Wendel was no stranger to murder, and upon hearing this, he showed no fear. Instead, he calmly looked past the woman at the door and into the room.
He immediately saw a man lying on the floor, and noticed a patch of blood on the man's chest.
"Are you sure he's dead?" Wendel asked calmly.
The young woman, in her early twenties, looked blank at first, then answered uncertainly:
"I... I don't know..."
"If there's still hope, he needs to be taken to the hospital immediately." Wendel spoke as if he were addressing a patient's family member, not a murderer.
The woman holding the blood-dripping dagger instinctively stepped aside to make way for her.
Wendel took a few steps forward and approached the victim.
He didn't need to squat down; a quick glance was enough for him to make a judgment from various signs:
"He is indeed dead."
The woman in her early twenties, with her slightly disheveled flaxen hair, showed no obvious change in expression as she looked down at her toes and said:
"You should call the police."
"What's your name?" Wendel could already hear hurried footsteps coming from the stairs.
Clearly, it was either a waiter or the hotel owner who heard the screams and came to check on the commotion.
" Trissy..." the young lady, who possessed both wildness and innocence, answered softly.
She then became absorbed in her own world and didn't say another word.
Wendel was about to say something, the hotel owner who had helped him check in rushed to the door.
"Goddess!" The elderly man couldn't help but exclaim after seeing the situation inside the room.
Wendel pressed his right hand down, signaling the other person to calm down, and then said:
"Go call the police immediately. I'll keep watch over this place."
His demeanor and words naturally inspired trust and obedience. Without a word, the hotel owner turned and rushed downstairs.
For Wendel, his the Original visit to check on the situation was merely a gentleman's habit, with no real intention of getting involved, given his ongoing mission. However, Miss Trissy's bewildered, detached, and feignedly cold attitude stirred some pity in him. This is a normal male reaction.
He looked around and said, as if talking to thin air:
"Not all murders are punishable by severe penalties; it depends on the specific circumstances."
Trissy slowly raised her head and looked at the man.
A strange, inexplicable light flickered in her seemingly lifeless and bewildered eyes.
Wendel glanced at her bruised face:
"He beat you up?"
"Hmm." The other person seemed to possess a certain Authority, which finally prompted Trissy, who had wanted to remain silent, to give an answer.
Wendel's gaze shifted downwards, landing on the dagger that was no longer dripping blood:
"Did you bring him here, or was it him?"
Trissy responded somewhat slowly:
"He."
Wendel nodded slightly and said:
"Legitimate self-defense is within the bounds of the law. I can prove to the police that you were having a heated argument and a fight beforehand, and it's clear that men have a natural advantage in this regard. I'm not discriminating against women, but science and experience tell us this."
He paused for a moment and asked:
What exactly is your relationship with him? What happened?
Trissy's eyes flickered, recovering somewhat from her deep detachment from reality.
As if answering the policeman's question, she said with a mixture of hope and sadness in her eyes:
"I am, oh, I am his mistress."
At this point, Trissy gave a self-deprecating smile:
"I was once an ugly woman who chased money to the point of losing my mind. Not long after leaving grammar school, I became his mistress under his seduction."
He gave me a hotel and told me to stay there and wait for his arrival or summons each week.
"I gradually lost interest in this kind of life. I became more and more depressed and inferior. I wanted to give everything back to him and get rid of him completely, but he disagreed. He threatened me in various ways to prevent me from leaving him. Our recent meetings have all been spent arguing."
"Just now, he said there was only one way to leave him, and that was death. Then he beat me and pulled out a dagger. And then, you know what happened next..."
Mistress... Wendel glanced at Trissy's face with regret and remorse and said:
"The traces at the scene also provide preliminary evidence of what happened."
He had initially assumed that Trissy and the deceased were husband and wife, but their relationship turned out to be far more sordid than he had imagined.
Trissy nodded blankly and said:
"Thanks."
She didn't speak again until the police from Utopia arrived, at which point she broke the silence, raised her hands, and accepted the handcuffs.
Wendel glanced at Trissy's slightly unsteady gait and said to the policeman:
"Take her to get her injuries checked and treated first, to prevent any accidents."
The police officers didn't know why they were listening to a witness's instructions, but without any objection, they led Trissy and Wendel through the pouring rain to the small hospital in town.
Because Trissy was a woman, Wendel and two police officers waited in the hospital corridor and did not follow her inside.
As time passed, Wendel saw a pregnant woman being rushed into the delivery room; it seemed there was a problem and she needed surgery.
After a while, he heard the sound of a baby crying, the announcement of a new life coming into the world, and at that moment, Trissy came out.
"Can you feel it? The beauty of life," Wendel said earnestly to Trissy.
Trissy listened intently to the baby's cries mixed with the sound of wind and rain, and her expression was clearly moved.
Her face had been wiped clean, making it appear quite plain.
After a few seconds, Trissy came to her senses, nodded to Wendel, and said again:
"Thanks."
This time, she was no longer so wooden, listless, or withdrawn.
Wendel secretly breathed a sigh of relief and went to the police station to give a statement.
Having finished his business, Wendel walked to the side of the street, preparing to take a horse-drawn carriage back to the " Iris " Inn.
However, in the dead of night, amidst the wind and rain, there wasn't a single pedestrian or carriage to be seen on the road.
"That's the downside of small towns, they're not convenient," Wendel muttered, opening the umbrella he had brought with him when he left, acknowledging the direction, and retracing his steps back to the " Iris " Inn.
As a former Sheriff, he possessed a mystical memory for the routes he had traveled, and had no worries about getting lost in the unfamiliar small town.
By this time, the downpour had subsided considerably, but the gale was still raging, whipping through the air and lashing at Wendel with raindrops.
This prompted Wendel to raise his right hand and cover his chest and abdomen.
The confidential document was hidden inside the clothing in that location.
Even when Wendel slept, he always kept the documents close to his body, never letting them separate from him. Because of this, he had developed a habit that, as long as he had a corresponding self-reminder beforehand, he wouldn't toss and turn in his sleep.
Utopia was a small town. Wendel walked for about fifteen minutes before he saw the " Iris " Hotel. By then, his hat and clothes were a little wet from the strong wind.
This worried him a bit, fearing that the confidential document might get wet and damaged.
Strictly speaking, I had already violated the rules of conduct when carrying out a mission, but how could I not offer help to such a lady? It was a gentleman's duty... Wendel felt slightly annoyed, but not at all regretful.
Upon entering the room, he immediately took off his coat, retrieved the document, and placed it on the table.
The paper bag covering the documents showed obvious signs of water damage, and in several places it looked like it would tear if touched with the slightest force.
Wendel immediately rang the bell to summon a waiter and asked him for a coal stove, hoping to raise the room temperature and speed up the drying of the sealed document bag.
While waiting, he noticed that there was no sense of quiet in the middle of the night. It seemed that the earlier screams and the arrival of the police had woken up the guests and nearby residents, who had not yet fallen back asleep.
The howling wind had subsided considerably, and amidst the patter of the rain, Wendel could hear the cries of children, the arguing of couples, the sawing sound of a violin, intermittent sobs, footsteps pacing upstairs, and the occasional hushed, uncontrolled discussions.
He wasn't moved by the lively scene; he just found their noise unsettling.
After a while, the waiter brought over a coal stove with charcoal added.
Wendel relaxed a bit and casually asked:
"Do you know Miss Trissy from earlier?"
The thin waiter shook his head:
"I don't know him."
He then added:
"I heard she is indeed a local, but I had been living on a plantation outside the city until this year."
"What do you know about her?" Wendel asked instinctively.
"She comes to our hotel three to five times a month, with that dead man," the waiter suddenly sighed. "She's not happy at all."
Wendel remained silent for a few seconds, dismissed the waiter, and sat back down at the table.
Time ticked by, and the bag containing the confidential documents gradually dried out.
By this time, the hotel was relatively quiet, with only the occasional sound of raindrops hitting the ground and the wind whistling through the windows.
Energetic Wendel recalled the events that had happened and sighed for Miss Trissy's life as he picked up the file folder and turned it over.
Just then, he noticed a small tear in the bottom part of the document bag, revealing the papers inside.
Wendel frowned immediately, knowing he was about to be punished.
Of course, the punishment won't be too severe, because if the confidentiality requirements of the documents were high enough, he wouldn't have been sent alone to escort them.
Wendel had originally intended to leave the document as it was, showing the damage to the recipient, but as he glanced at it, he noticed a word on the document through the hole:
" Utopia ".
Wendel tensed up immediately, feeling as if the sounds of wind and rain outside had suddenly stopped.