Mr. Siren [Comprehensive British and American]

Mr. Hodgins, who has a big family and a big business, took advantage of the fact that no one else was in the institute, and Angela didn't care about him. He happily moved out a bunch of precision instruments that were not usually used to deal with this mysterious express box.

"Let me see your little secret." Hodgins murmured with bright eyes, carefully cutting the sealing tape on the express delivery, and opened the box.

Inside the box is still a bouquet of delicate red roses, the petals are stained with a few drops of morning dew, the light blue crepe paper wrapped in the bouquet is decorated with sapphire blue ribbons, the bottom of the box is cushioned with shock-absorbing foam plastic, and various colored foam plastic balls Covering the bottom of the box, Hodgins picked one up in his glove and squeezed it.

"I'm going to test the ingredients and see if I can find out which supplier produced it."

Reid nodded, picked up the box next to the bouquet and carefully opened it, and couldn't help but let out a soft sigh with his eyes wide open.

It was a very beautiful small emerald bottle, carved with European-style classical patterns of flowers and curly grass. The bright and transparent green made the patterns on the bottle look like flowing water sliding down the natural trajectory. It is cut from the same piece of jadeite, it fits just right, and with the decoration of delicate curly grass patterns, the seam between the lid and the bottle body cannot even be seen if you don't look carefully.

Through the hollow, you can see that there are several small balls in the bottle, with a faint fragrance coming out. Reid leaned over and poured out the small balls carefully. The log-colored small balls rolled in the glass dish, and the aroma changed. more intense.

"It's a big deal." The well-informed Hodgins whistled and plucked the small wooden balls. "This is a perfume bottle."

The natural fragrant wood is housed in a hollowed-out emerald bottle, and the small hollowed-out bottle can be hung on the inside of the clothes, which can naturally infuse the clothes with an elegant fragrance. This kind of incense bottle was once popular in the European royal family in a very short period of time, but Up to now, there are only a handful of them that can be preserved so well, not to mention the ingenious carvings. It can be said that the artistic value alone is already immeasurable.

Reid scratched his hair in annoyance. After a brief surprise, he recovered his composure faster than Hodgins. After all, he had received a bracelet of equal value before, and he cared more about its origin than its history or value. .

"I can check the nearest auction market for you." Hodgins shrugged, "But to be honest, the possibility of finding out is very small."

"I'm sorry to trouble you." Reid nodded and thanked, and put the empty emerald bottle under the magnifying glass to observe carefully, hoping to find some directional clues.

It is a pity that the person who sent the package was very careful and did not leave any small flaws. No fingerprints or clothing fibers were found.

On the contrary, it was Hodgins who first had a clue about the study of the letterhead inserted obliquely among the roses.

The high-end handmade letterhead paper that was popular in the British high society during the Victorian period, in this era of extremely advanced paper industry, only a few companies still produce this kind of paper, and there are only a few of them produced every year. If you can get a list of buyers, Should be able to find something.

However, these high-cold paper-making workshops with profound backgrounds and long histories are willing to give face to the little FBI agents...

That's another question.

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Triton, with a precarious fox tail, didn't notice the situation on Reid's side. He stood on the side of the street of Reid's apartment, lit a cigarette and let him finish it. He looked up at the dark window upstairs and waited for a while. Sit back in the car and put the cigarette in the ashtray casually, wrapped in the blanket and half-closed his eyes and said sleepily: "Go back."

The driver responded in a low voice, and drove away from the capital square.

The old butler at home had already expected that Triton would not be in a good mood when he came back, prepared snacks and drinks, and changed into the clean and clear Arctic Ocean water in the swimming pool.

Question: How to heal a depressed siren?

Answer: First, prepare some sweet snacks, a large pot of sweet drinks, and a whole pool of fresh and clean sea water.

Then throw the kraken wrapped in a blanket and playing with himself in the sea, it doesn't matter if he sinks to the bottom, he won't drown anyway, then put the snacks and sweet drinks by the pool, and go off to do his own thing something happened.

The sea water will heal the sea monsters who have fallen into a temporary depression, oh, don't worry, these creatures with charming and dazzling appearance are far less fragile and sensitive than you imagine, and they will grow from a seabed mushroom after soaking in the water for a while." With a bang, it grows into a nimble swimming fish, throwing off its cumbersome clothes and swinging its tail, wandering repeatedly in the water, singing like a whine.

This process will last for about half an hour to two hours, depending on how depressed they are, and when they are full of depression, they will lie on the shore following the smell of snacks and drinks, and sit in the sun. Enjoy your meal.

The old butler, who had calculated the time to go back, caught Triton, who was lying on the edge of the pool, drinking a large can of iced orange juice with a satisfied expression.

Of course, he didn't forget to fish up his blanket from the bottom of the water.

"Do you need another glass?" The old butler smiled and took away the plate of clean snacks, and asked with a new can of orange juice.

"No need." Triton yawned, put down the jar in his hand, turned over and jumped back into the water. The sea water from the Arctic Ocean was so clear that the bottom was visible. Under the sun, it appeared a clear and transparent ice blue, with flashing star spots flashing past. The fishtail is the only bright color in the clean to indifferent blue.

After a while, the sea monster jumped out of the water, stepped on the ground with its slender legs, leaving a line of water.

"I'm going out."

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As depressed as Triton is his former teammate, Mr. Gavin Emerson. Seeing the same person again in the same position in the police station after decades, is not a sympathy for seeing each other with tears in his eyes, but a sad and lamentable full stomach. Depression has nowhere to vent.

"You..." Just as JJ opened his mouth, he heard Mr. Emerson say, "I'm leaving first... just call me if you need anything." He couldn't help but sighed slightly, turned and walked out .

He still wears a straight suit and is clean and meticulous from head to toe, but his back reveals an indescribable sense of dejection, and when he came, his straight back was slightly bent, as if he was under the weight of life and couldn't breathe.

He hadn't come home, and now that even the smallest room felt suffocatingly empty, Mr. Emerson needed a little support.

Even if it's an old friend from far away in heaven.

"Where are you going, sir?" asked the driver in the driver's seat, with his black baseball cap pressed low, his hand holding the steering wheel wearing white gloves, his voice was hoarse but somehow familiar, it was a pity that he was low Mr. Emerson didn't notice it at all, he just lowered his eyes and reported an address, leaning against the window and watching the scenery roar by.

The driver seemed to be aware of his mood, did not speak, just pressed the switch of the radio station, the driver was not very old, but he seemed to like those old-fashioned rocks, "Heartbreak Hotel" was playing on the radio station, and he was pulled back to that place in an instant. America in the rock and roll era.

Silent all the way.

……

"How much?" Mr. Emerson took out his wallet, took out one and handed it over. He opened the car door and walked out without waiting for change.

"Sir!" The driver called him suddenly, lowered the brim of his hat and opened the car window, "Have a good time!" He held a bouquet of red pansies in clean white gloves, which was as warm and bright as sunlight, barely breaking through Mr. Emerson's heart. cloudy.

"Thank you." He said hoarsely, reaching out to take the bouquet.

The radio is still ringing—

"Well, the bellhop 'stears keep flowin',

The younger brother who carried the luggage kept crying

And the desk clerk's dressed in black.

man behind the counter in black

Well they have been so long on lonely street

They may often live in this lonely street

They yain' tever gonnal look back.

They have long been used to not looking back at the past..."

Leaning on crutches, the old man staggered up the green grassy hillside. Tombstones stood one after another, each symbolizing a lost soul. He walked carefully along the way, without saying a word, passing by weeping relatives, passing by withered Rose, the old man he was going to visit, was buried on the top of the hillside, because it overlooked the whole city.

There are three tombs with three tombstones, one older and two newer, and they are all kept spotless. When Mr. Emerson has nothing to do, he will come and sit here, weeding weeds and cleaning the tombstones , and bring a few bottles of beer to offer—these guys prefer cold beer to flowers.

It's a pity that this time he forgot to bring beer, only a bouquet of little pansies given to him by the taxi driver.

Fortunately, someone had come early, leaving cold beer and popcorn in front of each tombstone.

But the three people who have no relatives and no reason, who else will come to see them except Mr. Emerson?

The old man stood in bewilderment for a long time, bent down and put the bouquet in front of the lead singer's tombstone, the warm and bright red was like a flame.

Suddenly, the sentence sleeping in memory crashed into my mind.

——Do you know the flower language of the red pansy?

——It’s missing.

—I am thinking of you, my friend.

The clear outline under the brim of the baseball cap, the fingertips on the steering wheel tapping to the rhythm of the music, the curly black hair on the side of the ear, the inexplicably familiar voice, and their favorite tune.

The neglected details whizzed past the old man's mind, his heartbeat was as fast as a drum, he stood up abruptly, stumbled and ran down the hillside.

However, the person he was looking for had disappeared without a trace.

The old man looked around in a daze, and suddenly found that tears were streaming down his face.

I miss you too, my friend...