The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 638 Ch.637 The Familiar Old Sheriff

Roland?

"I'm on a business trip," Rose puffed up her cheeks: "I'm still looking for him."

She excitedly introduced her maid to Kingsley, and asked him why he sneakily looked into other people's windows - but Kingsley quietly asked her why he didn't ask when he came to London.

Rose:......

To be bad.

"I...were just going to ask?"

Rose's eyes were filled with the temptation of 'Will you be satisfied with this answer?'

Kingsley just stared at her for a while, without saying anything, and moved his gaze to look at the 'maid' aside - Hallida's performance was beyond Rose's expectations: she did not get sick on the spot, but instead calmly and politely greeted her. Kingsley greeted.

"I am Mr. Roland Collins's maid."

"It seems we have a common friend. I am Kingsley, a detective." Kingsley bowed slightly and turned to Rose again: "I said I wanted to come to London to open a detective agency."

"Oh...so," Rose pursed her lips, "A business?"

The detective didn't mince words, and there was no need to hide anything about the case: "A gentleman hired me to investigate."

He said a name, but Halida screamed in surprise.

"Woof!"

Kingsley:…

He turned his gaze in surprise to the maid with a beautiful face and a somewhat regretful complexion.

She barked loudly, holding the necklace hanging around her neck, breathing heavily - strong, energetic, with excellent appearance, and beautiful eye color...

pity.

He is a sick slave.

"...Jay...woof!...Mr. Black!"

Halida didn't know what Kingsley was thinking.

She was filled with shame at this moment, and tears welled up in her eyes.

This is too bad!

Halida! This is so inappropriate!

You have forgotten this gentleman!

Forgot to repay the favor!

Forgot to come and say thank you!

Jack Black.

Kingsley's first client after arriving in London was also the man who had sold Halida the truth about Dover Powder for five shillings - a dog breeder with curly wool, a beard, and luxuriant hair.

"The one who lives on the cross street..."

"In the hotel," Kingsley saw that she had difficulty speaking, and casually answered, "They have many hounds..."

Halida covered her mouth and nodded while choking.

Rose knew why Hallida was so excited and patted her shoulder gently: "When I have free time, I will go with you. How about giving him ten pounds? I just want a hound..."

Halida: ...

"Ten pounds for a hound?" someone repeated, neither yin nor yang.

Rose rolled her eyes: "Why do you always go against me?"

Kingsley seemed to have neither heard nor seen, and slowly turned the brim of his hat: "You must prepare at least a hundred pounds, otherwise it will be robbery."

Rose looked bored: "I really don't know what kind of woman would be interested in you, Kingsley."

"The premise is that I have to be interested in her," Kingsley said with a slumped face, "Then, Miss Shelley, why did I see you in the East End?"

Rose blinked: "Halida and I are also investigating this case."

Kingsley said in a strange tone: "A Shelley?"

The Shelley children…

All right.

Think about what happened in Innstown, and think about your own last name.

There is always something special.

"Then, I wish you good luck and see you soon." Kingsley nodded to Halida and Rose respectively, and turned to leave.

Rose:?

"Maybe, we can investigate together?"

"I don't think—" Kingsley was about to say what he always said: I don't think women can help me in this.

However, he remembered the case on the train.

Facing Rose's 'victory' face, he really couldn't say such words.

"Are you trying to say -" Rose narrowed her eyes.

Kingsley lowered his eyes: "Obviously, no."

He twirled his hat, walked to the shoemaker's house not far away, put it on the head of the shoemaker's son, then turned around and came back with a lot of thanks: "So, what news do you have that I don't know?"

…………

…

What's wrong with the case is that, no matter the East District or the South District, these women whose husbands, brothers or fathers have died always seem to be able to deal with Kingsley's questioning with ease——

Don't forget where they live.

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

How can these people, who don't even know how to read, be able to do everything without leaking?

Kingsley is a detective, not a police officer, and he is not qualified to interrogate suspects in the case - even this is not clear to them.

Can all problems be solved?

It's so contradictory.

"Someone teaches them."

After leaving a certain house, Kingsley came to a conclusion.

According to the descriptions of those women, their husbands had no signs or symptoms before they died - they just fell asleep peacefully and could never be woken up again...

Kingsley frowned and thought, and he and the two ladies went to the next suspect's residence: it was just across the street.

Interestingly, they saw the police from afar.

An old black man wearing a baggy coat, with a striking black spot on one side of his face, like a three-hundred-year-old persimmon without even a drop of moisture, shivering dryly in the wind.

Rose had a chance encounter with her.

I also heard Roland mention this somewhat 'different' old police chief.

"I remember you."

Dan Barge was holding a cigarette in his mouth, coughing and grinning with black teeth at Rose: "Executive Officer Mr. Collins' foul-mouthed little companion..."

This is not very respectful.

"I remember you too," Rose retorted, "a police chief with little ability to solve crimes."

Interestingly, Dan Barge was not angry about this. The air flow passed through the thick phlegm in his throat and his vocal cords, and he laughed sinisterly: "You are about the same age as my daughter, kid, don't tell me what's going on in this room." It’s also about you.”

He patrolled Rose and Kingsley with his terrifying eyeballs, holding a cigarette in one hand, and tapping the short stick on his waist with the other hand. Even if he hates books, You can also point at his nose and comment in a polite way: This is not a good person, nor is he a young, moral person.

"Bad habits can kill people, such as finding a mistress who doesn't know her roots."

He was talking to Kingsley.

The old sheriff could fully predict the consequences of contradicting a woman who was an executive officer - at this point, he told Kingsley, who had never met him, and secretly reminded Rose...

There is still some humanity.

But he told it in public, in front of Halida and the two men and women who had 'done bad things'.

Not too much humanity either.

Rose thought he was just plain bad.

"It seems someone's eyesight is not working properly."

Dan Budge chuckled twice, blew out two bunches of white air from his nostrils, and asked Kingsley what he called him.

"A detective?"

The fingers holding the cigarette trembled, and the long cigarette ashes were blown everywhere by a gust of cold wind against the wall, just like his mockery about to burst.

He made no secret of his voice and pointed at Kingsley, like a monster with a baton on its head.

"Detective? Thank you, I can no longer keep up with the fashion trends of young people..."

He looked at Kingsley's angular diamond face, laughed and shook his head, spitting on the wall: "I'm not being sarcastic, young man, I just rarely hear this title when I'm sober... "

The frankness in the Sheriff's eyes was like his chastity, which had disappeared long before Queen Victoria could wipe her own behind.