Chapter 140 The Present Is Different From the Past

Finally, the middle-aged and elderly man with gray temples took a sip of tea, smiled and sighed:

"Actually, this is much better than before, better than many people here, such as..."

He pointed to the homeless people huddled in the corner outside the window.

Klein and Mike followed and saw a huddled homeless man lying on the ground in a dirty place that could shelter from the wind. There were men and women, old and young.

In this cold late autumn, they may not be able to wake up again.

At this moment, Klein noticed an old lady in her sixties standing by the side of the street. Her dress was old and tattered, but she was relatively tidy and her hair was meticulously cut.

The grey-haired old lady had the usual distress of homeless people on her face, but she still insisted on not crowding with the group of people, but walked slowly on the side of the road, looking numbly and deeply into the cafe from time to time.

"This is also a poor person." The former tramp who ate the leftover black bread also found the old lady, and sighed a few words, "It is said that she lived well before, her husband is a grain merchant, and there is a very energetic Unfortunately, she went bankrupt and her husband and children died not long after. She is different from us, really, you can tell at a glance... Sigh, she won't be able to last long, unless she can enter every time. workhouse."

Listening and listening, Mike's expression changed from calm to gloomy, and he exhaled slowly:

"I want to do an interview with her. Can you invite her for me? She can eat and drink whatever she wants here."

The middle-aged man didn't think it was strange for this request, but just glanced at Klein and Mike respectively, as if to say, you really are colleagues.

"Okay, I think she will be very happy." He took a sip of tea, got up and walked out of the greasy cafe.

Not long after, the old lady in the old but neat dress followed him in, her pale face softened a little under the warmth of the cafe.

She kept trembling, as if she wanted to let out the chill in her body little by little, and absorb the relatively high temperature in the cafe. Even if she sat on a chair, it took her an extra minute or so before she really calmed down.

"You can order whatever you want, this is the interview fee." Klein said something for Mike.

After Mike nodded, the old lady reservedly ordered toast, low-quality cream and coffee, then smiled and said:

"I've heard that when you don't get food for too long,

Can not eat greasy things. "

Very polite, very self-made, not at all like a homeless... Klein sighed silently.

Before the food arrived, Mike asked casually:

"Can you talk about how you became a homeless person?"

The old lady showed a look of reminiscence, and smiled bitterly:

"My husband is a grain merchant who buys all kinds of grain mainly from domestic farmers, and since the repeal of the Corn Bill we have gone bankrupt very quickly."

"He himself was not young, and he was knocked down by this incident, his body quickly collapsed, and he died not long after."

"My son, he is a wonderful young man who has been doing business with his father. He couldn't take such a blow, so he jumped into the Tussock River on a moonless night."

"He was unsuccessful on his first suicide attempt and was sent to Magistrates Court, where the police and judges were impatient and felt he was wasting their time."

"If you want to commit suicide, please do so quietly and successfully, and don't bother us... Well, they probably wanted to say that, but they felt it was too direct."

"My child was imprisoned. Not long after, he committed suicide for the second time and succeeded."

The old lady spoke very calmly, as if that was not something she had ever encountered.

But for some reason, Klein felt intense sadness.

There is nothing greater than death... He suddenly remembered this sentence he had heard in his previous life.

In this world, suicide is not only prohibited by the major churches, but also punished by law.

As for the reason, Klein is very clear about the reason. First, many suicides choose to throw themselves into the river. If they are not discovered in time, there is a certain probability that they will become water ghosts. Secondly, the emotions of suicides are often very wrong. This state Under such circumstances, ending one's own life is tantamount to "sacrifice", which may resonate with some weird and terrifying existences.

As a result, their bodies after death or certain objects around them will carry strange curses, endangering others.

That's probably how the Muppet of Doom behind the Chanis Gate in Tingen came about.

Therefore, the Seven Great Orthodox Churches all proceeded from their own teachings and forbade believers to commit suicide, and the royal family also promoted corresponding legislation.

Of course, this seems ridiculous to Klein. A person who wants to commit suicide is still afraid of the law and punishment?

Mike was scribbling and was about to say something, but the owner of the cafe had already brought the food.

"You fill your stomach first, we'll talk later." Mike pointed to the toast.

"Okay." The old lady ate the food in small bites, looking very educated.

She didn't order much and finished eating quickly.

After reluctantly drinking the last sip of coffee, she rubbed her forehead and begged:

"Can I sleep for a while before talking? It's too cold outside."

"No problem." Mike replied without hesitation.

The old lady gratefully said thank you several times, sat on the chair, curled up like that and fell asleep.

Mike looked at the middle-aged man next to him and said:

"You seem to be familiar with this place? I want to ask you to be our guide. How about 3 soli a day? Sorry, I forgot to ask your name."

The middle-aged man quickly shook his head and said:

"No, no, it's too much. I'm at the pier. Most of the time, I only earn 1 soli a day."

"You can just call me old Kohler."

"Well, two soli a day, you deserve it." Mike made a final decision.

After seeing this strange bargaining, Klein snorted some snot with a piece of paper, and planned to refill his cup of coffee, but suddenly realized something was wrong, and turned his head to look at the old lady who was sleeping curled up in a chair.

Her rosy face after drinking coffee turned pale again, and the color of her aura and emotion had disappeared.

"..." Klein stood up, and subconsciously reached out to check the old lady's breath.

In the surprised eyes of Mike and Kohler, he said heavily:

"She's dead."

Mike opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything, while Kohler tapped his chest three times, and said with a bitter smile:

"I knew she wouldn't last long..."

"In the East End, it happens every day."

"At least she had a full stomach and died in a warm place, hopefully, hehe, hopefully I will be like this in the future."

Klein was silent for a moment and said:

"Kohler, you go to the police."

"Okay." Kohler tapped his chest three times again, and ran out of the cafe.

The boss glanced over here, but didn't come over, as if it wasn't something to be concerned about.

After a while, a policeman in a black and white checkered uniform, carrying a short stick and a pistol, entered the cafe.

He looked at the dead old lady, asked Mike and Klein a few words, then waved his hands and said:

"It's okay, you can leave after I find someone to take the body away."

"That's it?" Mike said in astonishment.

He is obviously not familiar with the East End.

The policeman snorted:

"There are many such things happening in the East District every day!"

He rolled his eyes and looked at Klein and Mike:

"You don't look like people here, what's your name? What's your identity?"

Mike took out his press card, and Klein said that he was a private investigator protecting him.

The policeman immediately put on a straight face, looked at Klein and said:

"I suspect you are illegally holding a gun!"

"I want to search your belongings, please cooperate, otherwise it will be regarded as resisting arrest!"

Mike suddenly became worried because he knew that private investigators generally illegally own guns.

Klein spread his hands expressionlessly and said:

"OK."

He allowed the policeman to search him, but he found nothing.

When the old lady's body was sent away, the disappointed police left. Mike clenched his fist and thumped the table:

"A living person died here, but he only wanted to check for illegal possession of guns!"

Having said that, Mike looked sideways at Klein, wondering:

"You don't have a gun?"

Klein shook his head, pulled out the gun bag and revolver from under the table, and said calmly:

"As a detective, I have a lot of experience in this area."

As a "magician", he can put a pistol in front of the opponent's eyes, but the opponent cannot find it.

Moreover, because he didn't buy ordinary bullets, the extraordinary bullets were temporarily thrown on the gray mist. His revolver is currently empty, but this does not prevent him from shooting with a pistol. He only needs to simulate it with his mouth when he pulls the trigger. A "bang" will do.

Seeing this, the old Kohler next to him whispered:

"So you're a detective."

Klein pointed to Mike, and casually explained:

"I was also entrusted by this gentleman last time."

Mike sat there without rebutting, and after a moment of silence, said:

"Although I have also investigated gangsters and seen the miserable lives of some prostitutes, I don't know much about the situation in the East District. Please help me to see if there is any problem with this investigation and interview plan."

As he spoke, he took out a few sheets of paper from the inner pocket of his clothes and spread them out on the table in the cafe.

Klein glanced at it and said:

"Interviews with Eastside residents of different ages?"

"It's too troublesome. I think it can be divided according to location, better apartments, apartments with five or six people squeezed into one room, sheltered corners of the street, benches in parks, bars, and workhouses."

"In addition, work time and rest time can be divided."

After listening carefully, Mike nodded:

"Good idea, Kohler, what's your opinion?"

Old Kohler pinched his nose and said:

"I don't know the words . . . but I think Mr. Detective is right."

Mike thought about it, revised his plan, and said:

"Then let's go to the nearby apartments and pick one at random."