Chapter 551 Ch550 Danbach and the End of the Circus

Chapter 551 Ch.550 Dan Budge and the End of the Circus

"The body over there is still intact...ah, this one is broken like the broken heart of the girl who left me...it seems that our Mr. 'liar' chose to kill them in batches and then set them on fire."

Roland and several police officers walked in the scorched earth.

The sheriff who spoke first was an acquaintance, Dan Budge, who had dealt with Roland in the case of John Shelley and Madeline Terry.

The old sheriff was not in a good mood today-the fire set by Mason Lyle not only burned a large area of ​​grass and trees, but also spread to the homes of the rich who bought land in the suburbs for peace and leisure.

He had already taken a bath with the spit of those masters yesterday.

As for why he knew that it was Mason Lyle who set the fire…

Dan Budge admitted that some (most) of the black men in Scotland Yard were indeed machines that made feces, but there were also many smart people in this industry - especially those who could deal with "witchcrafters", their brains were more or less flexible and more cautious than normal people.

The scene left by Mason Lyle did look like a fire (kerosene lamp), but there were too many suspicious points in this case.

First of all, this "swindler" gentleman lost a lot of money recently.

The investment that made him bankrupt - no matter what a gambler does, it's not surprising, right?

At the same time, his circus also changed all the people, including members and props, and all the items were given to another lady - by the way, this lady had been "missing" for at least three days.

Then, when Dan Budge looked through the record book, he found that the Burns family's messenger came to the police not long ago, saying that a servant was "missing" at home.

Through investigation, it was found that the maid had often been in and out of a long-term rental house with a handsome middle-aged man. The woman living next door talked about this matter endlessly, and vividly described how they were "noisy" and how they kissed each other "disgustingly" at the door.

Dan Budge could almost conclude from her description that the "peacock" was Mason Lyle.

Finally.

It was the scene.

A fire was completely different from arson, and there was a huge difference between accidentally burning someone to death and being murdered.

Mason Lyle's tent was clean. They should have been able to find something valuable from the things that were not bitten by the flames.

Unfortunately, this man didn't leave a penny.

To say that he was not the murderer, Dan Budge dared to put his nephew's finger into his eyes and then sucked it clean.

Poor nephew.

Poor little monsters.

Dan Budge's eyes were filled with a faint sadness: different from those "holy heads". Of course, he knew that these "monsters" who made people laugh with their deformities were actually no different from the insignificant "dust" in the East District.

At best, they had more hands, or more heads, thicker hair, and were good at burping.

They satisfied the public's desire for voyeurism and curiosity, but they had no money in their pockets - this was in line with the current public's view of them: they had to be whipped to make them repent of the curse of their blood or soul, and these evil offspring who should not have been born were not worthy of using the same things as them.

For example, currency.

This argument undoubtedly gave people like Mason Lyle a very good excuse.

'Damn it. '

The old sheriff muttered, took the handkerchief handed behind him, wrapped it and wiped his fingers.

When the bodies were charred and it was difficult to distinguish their appearance and identity, it would be difficult to proceed with the case - but there was a better joke: even if these people with congenital deformities were burned into black sticks, they could still tell who was who.

The police officers separated the bodies one by one, picking up the fragments of overcooked meat into a pile, and then sorting out which piece belonged to which pile.

A police officer ran over with a hunched back, muttered something to the old sheriff, and led them to the farthest scorched earth.

One body was particularly eye-catching.

It was very tall, with two heads.

One of her heads was connected to her body and burned to charcoal. The other one was cut off, with her neck still attached to the flesh: the throwing knife used for performance was held in her hand, as if she had done it herself.

Their bodies had long been carbonized, and among the broken pieces of dregs, a heart that looked like a crystal was shining.

…

"Name": Glittering Heart

"Type": Ritual Object (Human)

"Description": A crystal-clear sacrifice.

Pain, hatred, deep love.

Entanglement, struggle, torture...

Sacrifice.

One body, two souls.

What is the highest expression of love?

Note: This heart from the "monster" cannot be used in the crowning ceremony.

…

Roland's face was wooden.

Dan Budge turned his head to look at him, turned on his toes, and walked towards the corpse.

On the burnt tent floor, on the head that was almost cut off, you can see dense thumb-sized fish hooks:

They are firmly hooked into the flesh, including the face, lips, gums, teeth, nostrils, eyeballs, eye sockets, and scalp.

These fish hooks are connected by wire, twisted into a thicker strand, and hooked on the iron pin used to fix the tent.

In addition, a thick iron chain is wrapped around the neck.

Dan Budge squatted down, took off his hat and put it on his chest, and gently grasped the chain with his other hand and shook it.

"I know her."

Roland said behind him.

"Bodaili, the older sister of the two."

It's obvious.

Someone hung Bodelli's face with fishhooks and locked the two people's necks with chains, leaving only room for one head to come in and out.

Perhaps for some reason, the two sisters were not killed immediately.

However, there was a fire.

Dan Barge could almost imagine the scene: flames and black smoke billowing.

The sister's head endured the pain, tearing off the fishhooks on her face one by one, tearing her flesh and blood apart - however, the flames spread faster than anyone imagined, engulfing and melting everyone without discrimination. See all tangible things.

So.

After much thought, the sister cut off her head bit by bit with a dart knife - not completely. Maybe she was too stupid and did not consider subsequent methods to stop the bleeding. Excessive blood flow led to the death of her sister and her.

Maybe her sister stopped her. The two sisters were entangled and struggling in the swamp of flames, just like they were hugging each other in their mother's belly.

Their souls melted into the hottest emotions and died in a new life.

Dan Bach let out a long breath: "It seems like your eyes..."

Roland: "Yeah, we jugglers always have a special way of observing the world."

Dan Barge: "That's not good news. I thought you wouldn't have to deal with all this filth."

Roland: "We are all the same, Mr. Butch."

"Sometimes I often think that I shouldn't be called Sergeant Butch, but Criminal Butch." A self-deprecating smile appeared on Old Butch's cold and hard face, and his eyes were cold: "There are other people in this world. Something is wrong...Mr. Collins, if the world were a person, it would be crazy."

Roland was silent.

"I'm older than you, and I've seen more cases... Of course, I don't want to teach you anything. I have special powers, and you don't need an old guy to tell you the truth... But."

Dan Barge said as he removed the fish hooks from her face one by one.

"But."

He paused.

"What's going on with this world?"

The old sheriff didn’t understand.

"The richer the people, the crazier they are. Don't they get enough? Power, prestige, titles, fame, blood, gold pounds - nobility, convenience, respect, happiness. They get almost everything..."

Dan Barge's words were a little extreme in this situation, but his tone was as straight and slow as usual.

"Now, they're starting to spread it again."

"Infecting your own madness and ambition to those fools who have no hope of sitting at the table..."

Roland rubbed his face gently, and it seemed as if some fish hooks pierced into his flesh and blood.

"It's our nature," he said.

"No, Mr. Collins, I can't agree." Dan Barge shook his head and stood up. "That's not how people work, Mr. Collins. That's not how people work."

He looked beyond Roland to the dark land in the distance.

The policemen were smoking cigarettes, cursing and playing with the charred corpses. Some of them secretly put something that looked valuable and could be sold at a price in their trouser pockets.

"If one day people become crazy..."

"Someone must have done something wrong."

"Era? Or..."

Dan Barge pulled out the crumpled cigarette, held it between his front teeth, and struck a few matches.

"Oh, by the way." He suddenly asked: "Since the case is closed, does it prove that you have found Mason Lyle?"

"Of course." Roland nodded: "Our Mr. Liar and all his belongings."

Dan Barge exhaled a puff of smoke.

"What will happen to him? Burn to death?"

Roland shook his head.

Before the old sheriff could show his disappointment, he turned around.

"I don't know," Roland said in a faint voice, "But the torture officer that Mason Lyle met... probably used up all his bad luck in his life."

Dan Barge understood what Roland meant.

He took a long puff of cigarette.

May the Father of all creation bless all good people...

Can you fucking do that?