Chapter 927: A Detective (Ⅰ)

Joan weighed the cue stick, walked around the table twice, and mentally calculated all the ball trajectories.

According to the conclusions drawn from the calculations, it is impossible to solve the problem with the normal way of hitting the ball. Joan can only try the "sticking" technique that he has not yet mastered, and try to make the white ball bypass the black ball.

Joan tried three times in a row.

Both hit the black ball the first two times.

The third time he was lucky enough not to touch the black ball, but the white ball circled an arc on the table, and finally missed the ball he expected to hit.

Billiards is not, after all, a purely mental sport.

The strength and angle of the ball in Joan's hand were not up to the demanding precision required for a successful clearance.

Under such circumstances, it is useless to calculate accurately.

After failing to clear the siege with three shots, Joan was deducted a lot of points.

Calculated in this way, there is no hope of overtaking the score.

Joan no longer made unnecessary resistance, and threw down the cue depressedly to admit defeat.

At this moment, a sneer suddenly came from behind.

"Professor, your manner is just like your style of play. You are good at hiding behind the scenes and engaging in some shady schemes to put your prey in a desperate situation."

"Hey, isn't this my old friend Ted Pinkerton? What wind has brought you here."

"I haven't seen you in half a year. You haven't changed at all. You still have a stinking face and speak acrimoniously, which is not flattering."

Professor Moriarty walked towards the new short and stout man, with a playful smile on his lips, he offered his right hand to the man.

A man named Ted Pinkerton stared at Mr. Professor coldly, with his hands in his trouser pockets, without saying a word.

Joan noticed that the mentor's outstretched hand was hanging in the air, and he was so embarrassed for such a long period of stalemate.

After as long as a century, Mr. Pinkerton finally took out his right hand from his trouser pocket, and shook hands with Professor Moriarty symbolically.

The embarrassing atmosphere finally eased, and Qiao An was secretly relieved, but at the same time doubted.

Judging from the ambiguous rhetoric at the beginning of the meeting between the two parties, and the tense atmosphere before and after the handshake, it is not like a normal reunion of old friends, but more like a meeting of old enemies.

Professor Moriarty seemed very gracious. After shaking hands, he greeted Joan and introduced him to Mr. Pinkerton.

After this period of training, Joan has become very proficient in this kind of social etiquette, smiling, bowing and shaking hands.

Mr. Pinkerton was still polite to him, unlike the blatant hostility he had shown to Professor Moriarty just now.

"Joan, our venerable Mr. Pinkerton, is a high-ranking ranger."

"However, unlike the rangers who roam the moors, Mr. Pinkerton is a hunter active in the city, or, as the fashion calls it, a famous 'private eye.'"

After listening to the instructor's introduction, Joan looked into Mr. Pinkerton's gaze, and couldn't help but be a little more curious.

Before that, he had only seen the title "private detective" in newspapers and novels, and thought it was a fictional profession created by writers, but today he found out that there really is such a profession in reality.

The big detective Ted Pinkerton didn't buy Professor Moriarty's compliments, and said with a sneer:

"You are too much, Mr. Professor. I am just a small person who lives on the fringes of society. You are the real famous person, especially in the field of organized crime. Who doesn't know your name? , who would dare not be in awe of your wicked wisdom?"

Mr. Pinkerton's words made Joan deeply puzzled.

Judging from what he said, it seems that he is ridiculing that the mentor has close ties with criminal groups, and his status in the underworld is quite respected. Where should we start?

Joan had heard Mrs. Josephine say that the mentor had participated in gang activities when he was young, but that was all thirty years ago.

Now he is a full professor of the Austrian law major at Midgard University, a real academic elite, a celebrity, how could he have contacts with criminals in private.

Mr. Pinkerton, as if sensing Joan's emotional change, turned his head and took a deep look at him.

"Professor, over the years, you have been a model teacher on the university campus, pretending to be a decent person, but I am afraid few people know that besides teaching at the university, you also have the title of 'criminal educator' in private."

"Just as far as I know, you have provided paid consulting services for at least double-digit organized crime groups. Using your extremely clever mind, you have instructed the evil party to break the law and commit crimes in a more efficient way. Afterwards, you also provided various Clever planning allows criminals to escape legal sanctions and enjoy ill-gotten gains safely!"

"Your student probably doesn't know that the professor he admires is not ashamed to earn such bloody dirty money in private!"

Mr. Detective's sharp reprimand sounded like thunder in Joan's ears, making him at a loss.

Reason told him that he should not listen to this man's nonsense, but his intuition prompted him to make the opposite judgment.

As far as the mentor's consistent behavior and complicated personality are concerned, Joan feels that even if he is really a "criminal educator" as Mr. Pinkerton said, he earns ill-gotten gains by instigating others to break the law and commit crimes. no fuss

If in fact the mentor is innocent, it's not because he can't do it, it's just because he doesn't want to.

"Some people, with a hammer in their hand, look like a nail."

Professor Moriarty laughed off Mr. Detective's attack, and defended himself in an understated tone.

"The bad things you mentioned are said to have been done by a mysterious figure who called himself 'Mokaviti'. What does it have to do with my dignified university professor, Trofim Moriarty?"

"Stop doing this, I swear to the gods, 'Mokaviti' is your alias!"

"If you are really so confident, then show evidence?"

Professor Moriarty put away his smile and took a step closer to Mr. Pinkerton, like an angry lion about to pounce.

"If you can't show evidence, Ted, my friend, you are blatantly slandering! I have the right to demand an apology from you, or go to court for defamation!"

"I'm sorry, I really can't produce your criminal evidence now, but don't be complacent, one day, I will catch your fox by the tail!"

The tall and thin professor and the stocky detective, the two men glared at each other, as if they wanted to bite each other to death.

Qiao An noticed that the smell of gunpowder at the scene was getting stronger and stronger, and it seemed that it might explode at any time, so he hurriedly stepped forward to smooth things over.

"Mr. Pinkerton, can you play pool? Would you like a game?"

"Little guy, to be honest, with your skills, you can't beat me."

Mr. Detective said lightly.