【Liai】The Blasphemer

1882.4.1London

Alan and Almin were playing chess, and Mikasha poured them freshly brewed black tea.There was a string of red bracelets on her fair wrist, which appeared in Ellen's sight along with the favorite tea set of the traveling Mr. Yeager.

"You still put it on? I said it's not something expensive..."

Mikasha squeezed the red bead on the bracelet with her fingers, "You gave it to me, so I will cherish it."

"I've heard that the ornaments made by Mrs. Selfiet can bring good luck to people. I mean, although she is a little bit crazy, she is actually a very good person. She often distributes sugar and fruit to the children. Something." Armin added, passing the general.

"...lost again, Armin, you are really good."

"No, it's Alan, you haven't concentrated at all."

The small courtyard behind Allen's house is fairly clean.Although it is not comparable to the gardens of rich people, it is full of flowers and plants planted by the Yeager couple in the past, and a round table for five people and wooden chairs are placed here, which is already very comfortable.This has been the favorite place for Ellen and his friends since childhood—the young master of the Kirchstein family would rather pick the grapes in his yard and come here, and Sasha will bring Hot pastries fresh out of the oven for the baker's mother, and Arnie's regal Persian cat is also a regular.Even though they are busy in their work fields as new society people, Mikasha and Armin still visit regularly.

"Sure enough, the case still hurts your vitality. Take a good rest for a few days, Allen." Almin looked at his very serious youngest, "You should go and hand in the report in the morning. My father said he saw you."

"Well, Inspector Erwin's complexion is not very good-looking, and I am definitely not the one who has the most headache."

"Speaking of which, there have been so many homicides in London in the past two years. My father has set the latest time for me to go home, which is an hour earlier than last year."

"That's right, girls are more dangerous."

"Please, Alan, I remember you still couldn't beat this girl in front of you when you were 15 years old."

Allen gave Armin a white look, and Mikasha pursed her lips and smiled.What is not obscured by the London fog is probably this reassuring daily image between the three.Armin and Mikasha chatted about new topics, while Alan stared at the image of himself printed on the black tea in the cup and gradually became fascinated.Drinking black tea in the mouth, but it reminds people of other tastes:

It was a large, bleak living room, with spotless carpets, and a fire in the fireplace that was slowly kindled by the isolated owner—as if he never needed the warmth of a flame.Then, there were no servants in the corridor, so he brewed a pot of warm black tea with his own hands, and handed it to himself indifferently.

Alan is puzzled by how far his thoughts have wandered, and he thinks of Levi.Yes, the meaningless words that that unpredictable person said to him, along with the bloody reflection in the cup, surged together in the calmness in the eyes of the typhoon.

"Don't be so serious, Alan, it's hard to close the case, why don't you relax for a few days?"

"Well, thank you...huh?!"

Allen looked at Armin in surprise, and the other's expression was also puzzled by his reaction.

"What did you just say? Case closed?"

"What's the matter with you, Alan, isn't it good to close the case?" Mikasa put away her smile and asked, "You made a great contribution this time, didn't you?"

He stayed where he was, and knew that the expressions of the two were not joking at all.

"April Fool's Day, this is not funny."

Case closed?

It seems that everyone in the city knows that the case is closed, so why doesn't he, the client, know?

"""

This was the first time in Allen's 22 years of life that he left an unknown guest behind, grabbed his coat and ran out the door without saying a word.He ran to the corner of the street and jumped into the carriage, the sound of horseshoes clattering into his confused heart.He went straight to the gate of the police station, and the colleagues who came towards him were still greeting him with congratulations in their words.The unknown fire in his heart was burning hotter and hotter, and Allen had no patience to knock on the door, and opened the door of Erwin's office directly.

There were three other men standing in the room. Although Alan didn't know the specific names, he recognized one of them as someone who was on the same level as Erwin or even higher.They stopped talking and looked carefully at the young man who came in suddenly.How to say that look, it is mixed with scrutiny, curiosity, even distrust or expectations with ulterior motives.

"Alan Yeager," the man walked towards him, "You really are a young policeman with potential. You have always been well-received, and this time you really lived up to everyone's expectations."

Allen froze for a moment, he could catch a glimpse of Erwin looking at him seriously from the corner of his eye.He understands that no matter how anxious he is, he must first deal with the irrelevant people in front of him——

"Thank you for your compliment, I will continue to work hard, sir."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at him, "Assist Inspector Erwin well, you will uphold justice in the territory of the Empire on which the sun never sets."

"Yes, sir." Allen replied without hesitation.

The man nodded, as if he had a good impression of the newcomer in front of him, he simply said goodbye to Erwin, and finally left with his men.After the footsteps disappeared outside the door, Allen turned to Erwin, who returned to his desk unhurriedly, pulled out his chair and sat down.

"Looks like you already know."

"Yeah, after everyone knows."

Erwin was unimpressed by his disaffected speech, instead he looked tired - leaning back and simply closing his eyes.

"The record of the case is on the table, you should take a look first."

Allen stepped forward to take the document, glanced briefly, and threw the document back on the table.

"First, Frante is the murderer? Are you kidding me! He's just an innocuous alcoholic! Not stupid enough to kill three people in a row!?"

"second."

Allen leaned forward with his hands on the table, trying to find a kind of eye contact, the kind that he trusted and respected a long time ago.It's a pity that the determined eyes in his memory are now closed, not looking at him.

"Second, although I wrote the investigation record, I don't even know about the closing document. I didn't even sign the signature. Why did you close the case in such a hurry and put the credit on me? Do you think I would Thank you?"

Erwin doesn't even need to look, he can completely imagine the scene in front of him now.

At 03:30 in the afternoon, the sun fell on the brown-haired young man through the blinds. His coat was put on in a hurry, without a tie, and his clean white shirt had soft lines.And his eyes, yes, his eyes are a gift from God.Because it is always so clean and firm, just like his soul.

Erwin seemed to have seen the recruitment of Scotland Yard two years ago. He was standing between two rows of people. When he walked up to him and asked that cut-scene question, the boy straightened his chest and said seriously:

"I just give my heart to the police badge for the freedom to pursue the truth, which has nothing to do with any fame."

"It is knowing this that they will believe in the results of your hands."

"what did you say?"

"No, it's nothing. Frante has confessed to his crime. You have worked hard, so take a good rest for a few days."

"...He confessed?"

"Ah."

"Can I see him?"

"No."

"That--"

"Alan, I have my reasons."

The person whose name was called was suddenly speechless.Because he saw Erwin's bloodshot eyes full of exhaustion again, the honest light was still there, but it was wrapped in an unknown thick fog.

"""

When his mother died, 12-year-old Ellen often suffered from insomnia.

Strange dream.For example, the soldier's sword shining in the yellow dust that fills the field of vision, the blood-colored sky above the high wall at dusk, and the blurred street scene in the middle of the night in a strange country, and the cliff at sea level can be seen outside the old castle.These are all scenes that he has never seen in reality, but there is always a small place in his mind where these pictures are carefully stored.

The end of the dream will still return to the small courtyard, where the fairy tale book slowly read by the mother in childhood is placed in the middle of the wooden chair.He saw the book repeatedly in his dreams, with the cover of a demon with fangs and an angel with free wings.

He didn't know what all these meant. Every time he wanted to open the book in his dream, he would immediately wake up in the early morning fog in London.However, now that he has grown up, he will not be confused by illusory things, but there are more complicated things that make him lose sleep.

how can that be possible?

No, not Frante, who is manipulating all this?

"You can't check it without going back to where you went wrong in the first place."

Levi's voice sounded in the chaotic thoughts, and all other distracting thoughts faded away.Allen suddenly realized a possibility, and he gasped for it.

"Have you ever seen a dead body?"

"What about fatal wounds?"

"Where is the so-called sharp weapon?"

He had never seen a corpse, and all the photos and details of the corpse were given by Erwin.Regarding the fatal injury, the conclusions drawn by other scientific researches were directly thrown to him, and the sharp weapon was also inferred based on the so-called shape and depth of the wound and the traces on the scene.In other words, from the very beginning when he took over the case, what he might have seen was what others wanted him to see.

Allen got out of bed and sat at the desk, his own assumptions made him break out in a cold sweat.He closed his eyes, carefully recalling everyone's expressions and what they said, there must be something that can verify or overthrow his conclusion——

"You go to hand in the report in the morning, my father said he saw you."

That's it, Allen was speechless.

Almin's father works in a newspaper office, and he must have gone to the police station to collect materials for tomorrow's news.Generally, for the sake of insurance, Scotland Yard does not invite or even accept interviews before the case is closed.And he went in to hand in the report, and met the reporter when he went out, what did he explain?Closing the case was already scheduled, whether or not he investigated Frante or not, it was just a bloody scapegoat for him.More and more threads were picked out, and he continued to think about——

"You are a young policeman with potential. You have always been well-received. This time you really lived up to everyone's expectations."

"It is knowing this that they will believe in the results of your hands."

Detective Ervin solved three murders by his own hands, which had nothing to do with the deep context of the country.If it's someone else, maybe they won't be serious after receiving the credit.But Allen will be serious, the more serious the sadder.How do you feel about being cheated, being used?It was he who was getting more and more worried about the fog.

"Levi, don't forget our promise, it's not fun."

"No, Erwin, this is very interesting. At least Yeager is much more interesting than you and your former subordinates. Say, if—"

"There will be no such if, you and I know it well."

Is it Levi?

Is this the man who, because of that statement, caused Inspector Erwin's pressure, what "if" would make the latter decide to rush the case?

To be able to figure it all out is indispensable to Levi's looming reminder, and that mysterious man seems to be the only one who is willing to let himself dig deep into the truth.

to find him.

Allen quickly changed into his formal clothes and was ready to go out.He thought he couldn't wait until tomorrow, and who knew what the hell would change the next day.The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. When Alan hurriedly dressed, his pocket watch fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it up, and suddenly there was a sharp pain in the back of his hand.It was scratched by a wooden thorn in the corner of the old desk, Allen sighed.

Regardless of the blood dripping from the wound on the back of his hand, he took out the note with the address and threw himself into the foggy street again at night.