Quick Travel: Save the poor little villain

Count Olga's estate is located on the hills east of the city of Book Harbor.

The driveway is lined with carefully trimmed hedges, and in the distance you can see neat horse paddocks and gardens.

Jinchen and Alrick got out of the carriage and the butler was already waiting at the door.

His face was pale, and he had obviously not yet recovered from his master's death.

"Inspector," the footman said in a low voice, bowing slightly, "the Earl is on his way. Please follow me in."

Alric nodded and walked into the hall.

Jinchen followed him and scanned the spacious hallway. Portraits of several generations of Olga family members hung on the walls, highlighting the family's prominent status.

The Earl had two sons.

Vincent, who died in his study, was his second son and designated heir.

This decision initially caused an uproar in the upper class of Book Harbor City. Count Olga did not follow the tradition of primogeniture.

But as time went on, people stopped talking about it publicly.

According to the police inspector's investigation, Vincent died on the night of April 10th.

There were many people in the manor that night, which made the investigation of the case more difficult.

Jinchen took out a calfskin-covered notebook and a pen from his pocket, and while listening to the conversation between Alric and the servant, he wrote down the key information.

"Well then," Jinchen suddenly interrupted, twirling the pen gently between his fingers.

"What kind of person do you think Master Vincent is?"

The servant was stunned for a moment, rubbed his hands, and answered cautiously: "He is very good and kind. Everyone thinks so."

"Master Vincent is always polite to his servants."

At this moment, a rush of footsteps came from the stairs.

Count Olga hurried down the stairs.

His face was haggard, with obvious dark circles under his eyes. Although he was wearing an exquisite black suit, he could not hide his fatigue and sadness.

"Inspector Alric," the Earl's voice was hoarse, and he extended his hand to shake Alric's.

“Thank you for coming. I… I still can’t believe it…” His lips trembled, and his cloudy eyes turned slightly red. “Vincent… how could he…”

Alric bowed gracefully. "Please accept my condolences, Lord Earl. We will do everything we can to find out the truth."

The Count took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

"I must attend an emergency meeting of the City Council, but please make sure you find the real culprit."

He squeezed Alric's hand tightly. "I insist this is murder, Inspector. Vincent would never commit suicide."

"Of course, Lord Earl." Alric's voice was steady and reassuring. "We won't jump to conclusions lightly."

The Count nodded, adjusted his tie, and walked towards the door.

But his footsteps paused in front of the door, as if he suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, by the way," he said, turning around. "On the morning of April 10th, Vincent was still very energetic. He passed by my stable and said good morning to me cheerfully."

"How could my child, who loves life so much, choose to commit suicide?"

After listening to this, Jinchen skipped over Olga's subsequent nostalgia and only recorded that Vincent had passed by the racecourse in the morning.

He also saw a few faint scratches under Count Olga's stand-up collar shirt, which did not seem to be caused by a fight.

When the Earl's carriage drove away, Jinchen approached Alrick and asked in a low voice, "Does Earl Olga have a mistress?"

After all, the Earl lost his wife at an early age, and this was no secret in the social circles of Book Harbor City.

Alric glanced at him sideways. "I don't know, but Cyril, there's no noble lord who doesn't have a mistress."

"Okay." Jinchen asked casually, and then turned to Alric with great interest.

"Do you have any, Alric?"

Alric's eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a dangerous light. "Don't try to pry into my secrets."

The inspector was still as sarcastic during the day, but he was really good-tempered, like an elegant gentleman. Jinchen was not afraid at all and said "Oh" thoughtfully.

Did he know any other secrets about Alric? Of course, Alric at night was a cruel killer, a terrifying existence.

And now, Alric said it was another secret.

Jinchen couldn't help but think of the kiss last night that was not rejected, and smiled meaningfully, winking at Alric, so cunningly.

"Okay, Inspector." There was an elusive teasing in his tone.

Sheriff Bruce chose to go to the main house to question those who were present that night, but Alrick obviously did not want to meet him.

Led by the butler Edgar, they went to the crime scene, the mysterious study.

Edgar was a very loyal butler, about fifty years old, with neatly combed gray hair.

Even a simple task like guiding guests was done impeccably.

But when Edgar pushed open the door of the study, a hint of sadness inevitably appeared on his face.

The study was spacious and elegant, with heavy mahogany bookshelves crammed with leather-bound books.

A large wooden desk stood in the center of the room, flanked by half-drawn crimson velvet curtains.

"I've been here," Alric said.

Butler Edgar nodded. "Yes, of course. You were Master Vincent's guest before."

Alric walked over to the desk and lightly ran his fingers across the smooth surface. "When was the layout changed here?"

"Doesn't Vincent like his desk to face the window? He loves looking out at the garden."

Jinchen stood leisurely a few steps behind Alrick, looking at the environment of the study and observing Alrick's every move.

Edgar replied, "Master Vincent has been coughing for the past two months, and Miss Eleanor suggested that he change the position of his desk so that it is not always facing the window."

Wayne Eleanor, Vincent's fiancée.

Jinchen memorized the name in his mind and tapped his fingers unconsciously on the cover of his notebook.

He began to pace slowly along the wall, his eyes scanning the arrangement of books on the shelves and the various decorations.

"What did the doctor say?" Alric asked, opening the desk drawer and examining it carefully.

"The doctor said it was a fever, Inspector." Edgar stood at the door, his hands crossed in front of him, maintaining the professional posture of a butler.

Jinchen suddenly stopped and turned to the housekeeper, "Mr. Edgar, where were you from 10 to 12 o'clock on the night of the incident?"

A muscle in Edgar's face twitched slightly. "I'm downstairs in the kitchen taking inventory of the silverware, sir. It's a weekly routine."

"Can anyone prove it?" Jinchen asked again, observing Edgar's micro-expressions.

"No, sir. That's my private time." Edgar's answer was flawless.

"Okay." Jinchen stopped asking.

He signaled to the butler to wait at the door.