Calamity Crown

Will Morey be 'The Fog Killer'?

When this question came to mind, Goethe thought about the possibility.

As long as the information gap is cleverly used, it is not impossible for Goethe to achieve this.

And the way people like Swart behave, it makes things easier.

So Goethe has to be careful.

After all, he was going to meet the other party at night.

He didn't want the 'night of answers' to turn into a 'night of death'.

"I'm going to make a telegram."

After thinking about it for a while, Swart immediately got up and left.

The sheriff did not explain more, obviously, this should be kept secret.

Or the other party is pretending to be mysterious, hoping to gain more initiative in future cooperation.

Goethe didn't care about that.

He just needs a definite answer.

If Morey is really the 'Mist in the Mist', it's actually not too bad a thing.

At least, the other party was exposed.

In Luster for so many days, appearing in the police station is enough to leave quite a few clues for the truly official transcendent to track down the other party, and he can take advantage of the situation to get out of the matter.

If not, then meet with the other party according to the original plan, know more things, and then think about the next step.

Yes or no, it is 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 Morey had a problem, Swart couldn't be so 'relaxed'.

In fact, it is.

"Master Morey is fine."

As soon as he entered the office, Swart said directly.

Then the sheriff handed Goethe a blanket and a sleeping bag in a fawning manner.

"Although it's okay to sleep on the table, I prefer to lie flat."

"Wool blankets keep moisture out of the ground."

"The sleeping bag will give you the illusion of lying on the bed."

After finishing speaking, the sheriff straightly spread out the blanket, and while getting into the sleeping bag, he continued: "Of course, it's just an illusion, it won't really be a bed, but it's better than lying in a 'coffin with a copper horn' good."

"I don't know how those bastards came up with the idea of ​​renting out the warehouse, placing rows of coffin-shaped beds, and renting them out to homeless people for a copper horn."

"If someone dies, just cover the body and collect the body."

"Of course, it's better than those people with half-copper horns who can only let their upper body hang from the rope to sleep. I saw before that just after dawn and everyone was snoring loudly, the management staff cut the rope. The person in the middle just fell to the ground, that feeling... tsk."

Speaking of this, the sheriff shook his head.

"But it's also better than the people who spend a quarter of the copper horn. These people can only sit on the floor or lean on the corner, and they are not even allowed to lie down. Moreover, there will be constant inspections."

"However, those who can't even enter such a 'shelter' are truly miserable. Winter in Lust is colder than imagined..."

As he spoke, the sheriff's voice gradually became quieter.

Snoring begins.

Goethe glanced at the other party, spread out the blanket, and got into the sleeping bag, but he didn't 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 down, and the two revolvers did not leave his body.

Even, let yourself sleep in a position closer to the inside.

He didn't know whether the danger would come, so he could only prevent it in advance.

Just like Swart.

Why did the other party choose to sleep with him in the police office?

Naturally, he also sensed the danger.

Or could it be that the office is more comfortable than the bed?

Being able to become a sheriff in this world may have many shortcomings, but he is definitely not a fool.

And the small talk just before bedtime?

It is to show that blankets and sleeping bags are not easy, and to bring the relationship between the two closer again.

As for temptation, or sympathy for the poor?

The former may still be possible.

the latter?

Goethe smiled and closed his eyes.

After a while, a slight snore sounded.

It was already six o'clock in the evening when Goethe woke up again.

The sound of the grandfather clock in the police station lobby made Goethe accurately judge.

Getting out of the sleeping bag, Goethe put on his shoes and went straight into the bathroom.

Five minutes, the wash is over.

When Goethe returned to the office again, Swart also woke up.

"Are you going to the Garden Club tonight?"

Looking at the dazed Swarte, Goethe asked directly.

Swart's ability is not good, but his identity is easy to use, especially when facing some routine troubles.

"certainly!"

As soon as he heard that Goethe was going to the Garden Club, the sheriff regained his spirits immediately, rushed into the bathroom to wash up, and asked his subordinates to call for a carriage.

"I haven't been to the Garden Club for a long time."

"I don't know if Ms. Sheila will perform on stage. Have you heard Ms. Sheila's singing?"

"It's really wonderful."

As soon as he got in the car, the sheriff spoke enthusiastically.

Sheila?

Long legs, nice voice, mole on the corner of the mouth.

Hearing this name, Goethe, who was looking at the dark street outside, instantly had an image of a woman in a white dress standing by the piano. The other party was the 'leader' of the Garden Club and was well-known in Lust.

He doesn't dance with people at all, and only sings occasionally.

Moreover, listening to Sheila sing requires extra money.

1 gold gram.

Astronomical prices for the poor.

But it was sought after by the middle class.

It seems that it took this 1 gold gram to make them different from the poor and acquire an unusual status.

Goethe had spent it before.

Then, I have a deep memory of Sheila.

At least in Goethe's memory, this Ms. Shira is quite radiant.

man.

always like this.

Habitually grasp the key points.

It's like when a beautiful athlete appears on the stage, it will immediately attract the attention of all men, but when you ask the female athlete's number plate, there is a high probability that you will not be able to answer it.

They are all focused.

Undoubtedly, this was the case with Goethe before him.

Swart who keeps mentioning Sheila over and over again?

Even more addicted to it.

But Goethe didn't care.

It's not that I'm immune, but I've seen better ones.

After undergoing makeup, beauty, and filters, Goethe's immunity has been greatly improved.

"If Ms. Sheila doesn't sing, we can do three dances with two lovely ladies and... hehehe."

Swart gave a smile that any man could understand.

In the garden club, there are some special services, but these special services also have thresholds.

You have to go to three dances first, and if the lady you dance with is not disgusted, then you can follow up.

money?

Nature is essential.

In other words, money is the most important thing.

"It's here! It's here!"

Swart jumped out of the carriage without the driver opening the door.

Goethe then got out of the carriage.

The appearance of the two made the waiter standing at the entrance of the Garden Club greet them immediately.

To be able to be the waiter in front of the garden club, one must have considerable foresight.

The other party recognized Swart.

I also know Goethe.

The former is because of status.

The latter is because of the frequent visits to the Garden Club and...some things that happened at the other party's house.

"Good evening, Inspector Swart, Master Goethe."

The waiter bowed with a smile on his face.

Even in the bottom of his heart, the waiter was extremely curious why these two people would come together, but there was nothing strange on his face.

Swart handed over two silver ropes, which were the ticket money for the two of them.

Goethe handed over two silver cords, which were the tea fee for the two of them.

The two walked into the gate of the garden club without needing the guidance of the waiter.

The flashing neon lights make this place look extraordinarily different.

The white walls, columns with clear stripes, and clean steps become more dazzling under the colorful light, just like walking up the steps and entering the thighs and chests seen inside.

Ladies with heavy make-up gathered in the hall of the house in groups of three or four, and the crystal chandeliers hung high, making the whole hall bright and luxurious, completely separated from the barren world outside.

Chairs are scattered around the wall one by one, and next to each chair is a small coffee table with a pot of tea and a plate of snacks on it.

However, no one paid attention to these except Goethe.

Even Swart is no exception.

The sheriff is looking for a target.

At this moment, when there is an interval between dance music, it is the best opportunity to find a dance partner.

Everyone in the hall is like this.

Men are, and so are women.

So, when Goethe drank tea and ate snacks alone, he became noticeable.

Tea, bitter.

Dessert, slightly sweet.

Sorry 1 silver cord.

Goethe was quite sure of this.

But it can still be swallowed, after all, people who come here don't care about these things.

Tea can quench your thirst.

Snacks are good enough to satisfy hunger.

Goethe picked up another piece of pastry, and at this moment a young girl dressed as a maid came up to him.

When seeing this maid, if Goethe's behavior attracted attention before, then Goethe is the focus of the audience at this time.

Because, the other party is Shira's maid.

"Goethe! Goethe!"

"Look, it's Ms. Sheila's maid, Susan!"

"She's coming to me!"

"Did I catch Ms. Sheila's attention?!"

Seeing the maid getting closer, Swart became excited, while Goethe glanced at it, put the snack into his mouth, took another sip of tea, and moistened the snack to make it easier to swallow.

The other party was undoubtedly looking for him.

And this is of course 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 would like to meet you."

the maid said in a low voice.

Swart was overjoyed.

Goethe froze.