Beneath the Truth/Chapter 5

Japanese: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n6185ha/6/

Chinese: https://wangyidiwurenge.lofter.com/post/1fce5dfa\_1cc4e2de6

D.M walked down the last step, his gaze shifted from Mr. Inference’s face to the novelist, his polite smile instantly turned into a concerned look, his tone was half heartache and half apologetic, and the transition was very easy: "It’s better if you don’t have an accident. Yesterday the police suddenly said that the evidence was conclusive and ordered the arrest. I didn’t have strong testimony, and I was powerless and worried all night."

The earl's reaction was completely beyond the novelist's expectation. He opened his eyes and said in a daze: "Earl, you...you believe I am not a thief who steals the picture?"

"Of course," Earl D.M didn't hesitate, "I have read your work. How can someone who can write this kind of text commit theft? Of course, including everyone present, I am convinced, after all, it is me who "chooses" the guest. Earl D.M looked at the others in the hall, "This thief should be a thief who stepped into the garden at night."

After hearing these words, everyone here likes drawing different expressions on their faces.

Mr. Inference seemed to have heard a big joke, snorted ironically, and turned to his side to not speak.

The novelist nodded to the earl, horrified and moved, and clenched his fists: "Earl, thank you for your willingness to believe in me, I, I... I will help you find the muse if I try my best!"

Don't wanting to listen blindly or watch someone's performance, Mr. Inference raised his leg and walked forward: "Heh, you guys work 'hard' slowly, I won't bother you guys."

D.M bends the corner of his eyes silently, and walks quickly to 'Inference' side and says: "Of course, we have to rely on our big detective to start the investigation as soon as possible. Whether it is a case or a dinner, it can't be done without our famous detective."

Mr. Inference doesn't look squinty, there are no waves: "I know what to do, I don't need your reminder."

"That's better~ anyway..." D.M's smile gradually deepened, and he bent down slightly, lowering his voice, "...the final result, I'll wait and see."

Mr. Inference stopped and turned to look at D.M, as if in response to a war post, saying every word: "The day will always be bright. As for the end of the night, are you crying or laughing, I am looking forward to it."

The overtones are often only known to each other.

The mystery of the two great figures along the way also puzzled the novelists who followed.

After all, one is the victim of the stolen painting, and the other is the detective who catches the thief. There is a reason that these two talents are on one side, but so far the feeling they have given to novelists is that they are extremely opposed to each other, including their last dialogue in the hall, which with an ax to grind.

Is there really any secret in the earl?

But without waiting for the novelist to take care of everything, the group arrived at the exhibition hall mightily.

After hearing the police report that no one had approached the exhibition hall during this period, the butler took out the key and opened the lock.

Mr. Inference looked at the key in the butler's hand and suddenly said, "I will confirm the point where you locked the door on the day of the crime."

"Okay. Yesterday, before the novelist came, the exhibition hall was always locked. At 6:30 in the afternoon, the novelist arrived at the estate. The master asked him to rest in the exhibition hall. I opened the lock for him, and the exhibition hall has remained useless since then. The key was locked. The fireworks show started at 8 o'clock, and I went to gather the guests at 7:40. After I called the novelist, I locked the exhibition hall, and then asked the novelist to go to the dinner party first, and then I would call other guests. "The butler was fluent.

Mr. Inference confirmed to him: "Is the painting still in front of the door locked at 7:40?"

"The painting is still there," the butler affirmed. "Until halfway through the fireworks display, around 8:10, the novelist received a letter and rushed home, saying that the suitcase had fallen in the exhibition hall, so I gave him the key. Let him hurry up to get his suitcase, and I helped him arrange the carriage for the return journey."

The novelist hurriedly added: "I took the box and left! I'm sure I locked the exhibition hall before leaving. After all, I was anxious at the time and felt that locking the door was wasting time, so I remember it very clearly! But if the painting is not there, I only have home in my heart. I didn’t pay attention to the fire.”

The butler nodded to testify to him: "He did lock the door. After I arranged the carriage for Mr. Novelist, I went back to confirm it."

Mr. Inference interrupted: "But you only confirmed that the door was locked, and did not open the door to check."

The butler seemed a little regretful: "Yes, I didn't go in, and I don't know if the painting was at that time. After the fireworks display, The master continued to work in the study. It was approaching ten o'clock. I saw that it was late and wanted to call the master to rest. The master said that he wanted to go to the exhibition hall to see the painting at last, but when we arrived at the exhibition hall, we discovered that the painting was stolen."

Mr. Inference concluded: "In other words, either the novelist stole the painting when he returned to the exhibition hall to take the suitcase, or someone else stole the painting during the period between the novelist's departure and ten o'clock that night."

Lady Truth looked at the novelist and said, "It sounds like you stole it, Mr. Novelist."

The novelist couldn't laugh or cry: "Lady, don't make such a joke at this time..."

"The latter hypothesis has a high probability...no, it must not be true," the playwright thought carefully after listening to Mr. Inference. "You said that someone else stole the painting after the novelist left, but he locked the door when he left. It's impossible for anyone to get in. So he is still the most suspicious." The playwright pointed to the novelist.

Mr. Inference didn't mean to speak. Hearing this, he looked back at the playwright. Seeing what he seemed to want to express, he tilted his head slightly, indicating that he was free to continue speaking, and he went straight to the progress hall.

The auctioneer and the others also thought about following in. Lady Truth jumped out in time and stopped in front of the door: "Okay, okay, both the suspect and the real murderer are forbidden to enter~ Don’t want to destroy the evidence, just stand here and say anything. Right."

Ignoring the complaints of "I am not a murderer", the girl crossed her arms, like a little commander.

On the other hand, with the acquiescence of Mr. Inference, the playwright did his part when he had the opportunity to perform. He glanced at Ruth quickly, clenched a fist under his nose, feigned a cough, and said genuinely: "You think, only the butler and Lord Earl have the key to the exhibition hall. After the door is locked, what about the others? Maybe through the door? Then there are only the east windows, but that row is full of double-layer vent windows. The outermost layer is already fixed, so it's impossible to turn in from the window sill."

After he finished speaking, he glanced at Ruth secretly, but Ruth seemed a little absent-minded. He didn't listen to the playwright. The playwright was a little disappointed, so she simply summed up: "In other words, after the novelist leaves, it is impossible for him anymore. There is a progress hall. The painting can only be stolen before the fireworks show is over."

The playwright’s tone was very calm, and he could hear that he was analyzing one thing seriously, while the auctioneer was different. He was purely hostile to the novelist: "Yes, that's right! That's it! He stole it!" The auctioneer slapped his thigh and sipped it, and he didn't know whether he understood it or not.

"It's not me, it's really not me!" The novelist without the slightest evidence already didn't know how many times it was repeated these words, but he had no other way than denying it.

"Remember carefully, when you finally took the key to the room to take the suitcase, did you see that the painting was still there?" Compared with the others, Lady Truth's tone was extraordinarily friendly.

The novelist can naturally see that Lady Truth is guiding him and wanting to help himself, but he does ask three questions: "I was walking in a hurry, so I didn't have time to pay attention, and I didn't know..."

"Haha, did you not pay attention or did you not dare to elaborate on it after stealing the painting?" The auctioneer laughed loudly.

"How could it be possible for me to steal this..." The novelist squeezed his hands anxiously, anxiously like an ant on a hot pot, but he couldn't argue, he could only look at the Mr. Inference in the room and ask for his help, "Mr. Inference... …"

In the exhibition hall, as early as when a group of people at the door began to argue, Mr. Inference had already begun to search for evidence.

He checked the door locks, windows, and window sills in turn, and finally knelt down on the fireplace to look inside. It wasn't until the noisy air calmed down that he was as if returning to this space again, withdrawing from the palace of Inference built by himself.

Looking back, he saw that everyone had stopped chattering, waiting for their own stance.

Mr. Inference patted the dust and got up and said, "Done? That's fine."

As he walked in the exhibition hall, leading everyone to look at the evidence points, he said: "The door lock is intact and undamaged; the ventilation layer of the window is locked, and it cannot be shaken inside or outside, and there is no trace of damage; in the end, The fireplace in the exhibition hall does not allow anyone to pass through. So once the door is locked, it is indeed impossible to enter here."

"Wow, it's a secret room." Lady Truth laughed quietly.

And the novelist heard: Where are these words to prove his innocence? I panicked, and whispered: "Mr. Inference?"

Mr. Inference didn’t read the novelist, he turned around and asked the butler again: "Mr. Butler, how many keys are there in the exhibition hall?"

According to the truth, the butler said: "Three."

At one point, the playwright looked at the housekeeper in astonishment: "What? Thr..." This is different from his Inference just now.

"Why don't you take the initiative to say if you don't ask," Lady Truth muttered, "If it wasn't for Inference to ask, wouldn't you be misled by your two keys?"

Mr. Inference made a silent gesture, beckoning the butler to continue.

The butler bowed to Mr. Inference and explained in detail: "Master, one for me, and a spare key." The butler paused and pointed in the direction of a single sofa in the exhibition hall. "The spare key is in the basin. In the Viburnum potted plant, just in case, I will check it every morning. Of course, the exhibition hall has been guarded by the police from last night to just now, except this morning."

After speaking, Lady Truth rushed to the viburnum potted plants first, looking for the key when she opened the clusters of flower balls, but as soon as she bowed her body, Mr. Inference touched her forehead and opened it back.

Before Lady Truth had time to ask a question, she heard her chief detective say to the housekeeper: "Where do you put the spare key on the pot, and how to put it, be more specific."

The housekeeper gestured in the air and said: "The surface of the soil layer, put it flat from the edge of the flowerpot, and just put it. The flower ball on it will be hidden, and you can't see it if you don't deliberately find it.

"Huh? That's not right!" After the butler said the first sentence, Lady Truth exclaimed. She knew why Mr. Inference had to stop herself--because the location of the key she saw in front of her was completely different from what the butler said!

"Not on the soil, this key is stuck on the flower branch," Lady Truth stepped back, for fear of shaking the key down, "Have the key been moved?"

At the same time, Mr. Inference made a "come here" gesture with his palm up to the housekeeper by the door.

The butler approached, stretched his neck and looked through the gap between the flower balls, and he saw the spare key falteringly stuck between the flower branches. This is obviously a method of placing from top to bottom, and according to the housekeeper, he pushed it from the edge of the flowerpot to put it on top of the soil.

Sure enough, the housekeeper said with confidence: "This is indeed not the key I put."

The housekeeper’s words hit the water like a stone, smashing waves in the hearts of the others present——

Let's not discuss whether the novelist knows the existence of this key. If the novelist really went back to steal in the middle of the fireworks display, he had already got the key from the butler at that time, why would it be necessary to search for a spare key in such an urgent time?

All fools should know that a second person with a bad heart has appeared.

Lady Truth’s laughter broke the short silence. She leaped to the door and patted the novelist on the shoulder: "Congratulations, you have reduced your suspicion by one percent, Mr. Novelist."

"So, someone took a spare key to steal the picture. The person who steals the picture is among us?" Ruth's confused eyes patrolled among several people who had been acquainted with for many days, holding Daisy's hand subconsciously, and then suddenly Let go-after all, Daisy who is in charge of this area may also be the one holding the key.

Upon seeing this, the playwright opened his mouth, frowned and looked at the Mr. Inference who led the development of the situation, bit the bullet and continued his analysis just now: "No, the suspicion of the novelist still cannot be removed. What if the spare key has been touched? As long as the key is still in the house, it is impossible for the person holding the key to lock the door from the outside. Yes, that’s right! Could it be that his hand is rubber, which can be compressed to the size of the door gap, put the key back in the flowerpot and then retract it ?"

"That's why I said that this is a secret room at the beginning," Lady Truth said with her cheek.

"Secret room?"

"Then what we are looking for is evidence of how the prisoner returned the key from the outside to the house!" It seemed that this was a very interesting thing, and Lady Truth's eyes were bent into crescents.

"Wait, only this kind of thing will completely rule out the novelist's suspicion, and start to restore some secret rooms that may not exist at all? Are you two too childish?" The auctioneer twisted his eyebrows and half-squinted one. Eyes, questioned the two detectives.

"Hmm..." Lady Truth pointed one cheek with her index finger and looked at the auctioneer somewhat incomprehensibly, "It is because there are always people who ask stupid questions, and Mr. Inference is more and more interested in explaining clues to others The more impatient he is, it's like he keeps all clues in his heart now and doesn't talk to others much."

Always being ridiculed by Lady Truth, whether it is fake or sincere, the auctioneer is so angry that he wants to hit someone, but when he thinks of what happened in the hall, he feels his forearm is beginning to ache again, and he can only grit his teeth secretly in his heart curse.

And just as Lady Truth said, Mr. Inference only wants to immerse himself in his own world to analyze clues. Where can others argue so much?

In the exhibition hall, he seemed to have his own soundproofing. After isolating the noise by the door, he walked to the wall where the outline of the frame of the stolen painting could be seen vaguely, and held his chin in contemplation.

"There was originally a muse hanging here."

A familiar and hateful voice followed like a ghost, interrupting his thinking.

——Earl D.M didn't know when he appeared behind Mr. Inference.

Mr. Inference didn't turn his head, moved his chin and covered his eyes, and a few words popped out between his teeth in a stiff tone: "I said, let you stay at the door."

D.M Earl was surprised: "Huh? Why, I still need to be suspected? I steal myself?"

"It's impossible for others, but it's hard to say for you." Mr. Inference rubbed his eyes with his right thumb and middle finger, and quickly returned to the state of self-inference, measuring the size of the frame with his hand, without even looking at D.M.

"You think people are too sinister, detective," D.M shook his head. "This is my home. I just think you might need the owner here to provide additional clues outside of the scene."

"Additional clues? Okay," Inference nodded, turning sideways to look at D.M, "I listen to you."

D.M propped his cane on his side and shrugged: "Please ask questions."

Probably because he was troublesome, Mr. Inference spoke extremely fast and seemed very impatient, "The origin of the painting?"

D.M also answered very quickly: "I bought it."

Mr. Inference: "I'm asking you the source of this painting."

D.M smiled and said: "Unfortunately, I don't know the history of this painting, and I don't even know who the author is."

Mr. Inference obviously didn't have the patience to circle with him. He narrowed the sharp eyes and said in a deep voice, "I know you. If you really don't know the value of this painting, you won't collect it, and more than once."

Hearing what Mr. Inference meant, D.M lowered his head and showed a deeper smile, as if he was making fun of something in his heart. With this picture of him, Mr. Inference's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

But when D.M looked up again, he looked innocent again. He spread his hands and gave the most sensible answer: "Why collect it? Because this painting is beautiful. You must always allow human aesthetics to fluctuate around the value of art, and respect aesthetic differentiation."

Mr. Inference: "..."

"Does the detective have anything else I want to ask?" Earl D.M looked very enthusiastic.

"I want a picture of a painting." It was no longer a question, Mr. Inference ordered.

"Hey, no, let's talk about what that painting looks like, haven't you seen it before." Earl D.M replied.

"No, are you?" Mr. Inference's face was so gloomy that water dripped. He nodded again and repeated, even vaguely threatening.

But Earl D.M just laughed and said with certainty: "Yes, this is not true. It is an art to immobilize people and time in a photo forever, but if the art is sealed in a photo, it loses its beauty. Isn't it?"

The growing tension between the two seemed to attract the attention of everyone at the door.

People came to see it by appointment.

D.M laughed, turning his back to the door and making a gesture to the housekeeper with his hand behind him. The housekeeper by the door received instructions and closed the door of the exhibition hall.

Mr. Inference didn't want to be entangled with D.M anymore, and restarted his observation of the room. When his gaze swept across the ground not far away, an unusual trace caught his attention. He squatted down in silence, and the original sharp hostility aura on his body gradually became the focus of him when he fell into his own Inference space.

It was a small trace of candle wax at the root of the blanket.

Mr. Inference stood up and walked along the candle wax, deducing several routes and analyzing them one by one. Finally, turn back to stand before the stolen wall painted by the Muse, just like at the beginning.

But this time, Earl D.M didn't disturb him anymore, just stood silently on the side. Mr. Inference observes the clues, and Earl D.M observes him.

Suddenly, Mr. Inference's eyes flashed, and he squatted down again.

Earl D.M stepped forward and found that Mr. Inference slowly drew a white thread from the hollow gilt edge of the storage table against the wall...

"What did you find that made our Mr. Detective so happy?" Earl D.M asked casually, sitting down on the sofa nearby.

Mr. Inference has always been joyous and hard to show up, and he doesn't know where D.M came to this conclusion.

Mr. Inference carefully discerned the material of this white line, and said concisely: "These are two routes."

"You mean..." The short sentence Mr. Inference said may sound a bit incomprehensible to outsiders, but Earl D.M raised his eyebrows, but he seemed to understand, "It seems that no matter how many people there are, it is difficult to understand. I can't help you."

It's always a pleasure to talk to a smart person, even though this smart person is annoying. Mr. Inference was kneeling on the ground, his white gloves loosely wrapped around the string, and slightly raised his head to look at D.M who was resting lazily in the backlight, and said: "It's rare that you don't see 'red' by your side, but this time at least it's not as boring as I thought. "

Hearing the word red, D.M smiled secretly: "I'm not a god of death, so how can I be dead everywhere?"

Unless someone wants to be a cocoon, what does this have to do with me?

This last sentence was swallowed by D.M.

*(First Chapter.) | (Previous: Chapter 4.) | (Next: Chapter 6.)*