Realizing that something was behind him, he immediately withdrew his consciousness and slowly raised his hands.
"what are you doing here?"
Miss Quinn's voice, as hoarse and cold as tobacco and mint, came from behind.
Huh... Ed then breathed a sigh of relief, put down his hands and turned around and said:
"There is a hidden basement in the room..."
"What? Eton didn't tell you where it was...forget it, it's nothing..."
She gently wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, as if to wipe away the anxiety on her expression, and glanced into the room: "Let's talk inside."
So Ed politely opened the door of the detective agency and asked the lady to go first. Then he turned on the light, and warm orange light instantly filled the room.
Miss Quinn ignored him completely and walked straight into the house. Even indoors, she still refused to take off the dark gray scarf.
Ed didn't feel embarrassed at all. He raised his hand and put the hat on the hanger, then turned and walked into the house:
"So, what exactly is that hidden basement for?"
"My bedroom. What, your first time visiting a girl's boudoir?"
My common sense tells me that a normal woman’s bedroom would not be decorated like this.
Of course, Ed didn't dare to say this.
Speaking of which, there are indeed only four rooms on the second floor. One is Mr. Eaton's, the other was Arthur's, and the other two are the reception room and kitchen, and have no living function.
He always thought that Miss Quinn had another residence, but he didn't expect that she actually lived in the basement.
Quinn took a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the wine rack, used a knife to pry open the cork with ease, leaned back on the sofa with her legs crossed, and started drinking by herself.
The butterfly-wing folding knife was really impressive. Ed could see the dark blue feather-like metal lines deep in the steel, like the burned-out night sky. The two rotating handles are decorated with ivory and abalone shell respectively - pure white as grease, as bright as stars, with a curvature suitable for the hand.
The entire blade is like a broken blade, like a defective product obtained by a poor blacksmith after repeatedly forging sword fragments, but it is full of breathtaking beauty like a curse.
"Where's Mr. Eaton? Why are you the only one who came back early?"
"Because tonight is..." She stopped raising the cup, "Why should I tell you?"
"Because maybe we will be colleagues in the future?"
"Eaton is going to recommend you to be an agent? It seems like he's sicker than me."
She sneered, drank the golden liquid in the glass, and then picked up the bottle and refilled it.
"He didn't say it, but I guess that's what he meant."
Out of politeness, Ed did not sit on the sofa with her, but moved a stool and sat opposite her.
"Listen, kid, the Divine Bureau is not the sweet and savory thing you think. It is a quagmire. Once you get stuck in it, you can never get out - you will either die or go crazy. The best ending is to retire and live in a nursing home. , spending the rest of his life half crazy and half stupid.”
Quinn stopped mid-sip and said. She held the rim of the glass with her fingers and shook it gently. The liquid rose and fell like a tide, and the faint aroma of burnt peat that was unique to whiskey wafted towards her face.
"I know."
"If you are in a hurry for money... let's do this. I can help you with the money. You can continue to go to school or do some serious business. It's up to you. You can pay back the money slowly."
Ed did not answer directly, but asked with a smile:
"Won't you buy me a drink?"
"Are you an adult?"
“Depends on the price of the wine.”
"Then you'd better not drink it. This stuff is not good for people."
"But why are you still drinking?"
"That's because...!" Quinn suddenly realized the language trap Ed had set for her.
Crack! The cup in his hand turned into sharp debris and poured down.
There was a flash of surprise in her eyes, as if she didn't even realize what was happening.
Ed was also frightened. He just wanted to silence Miss Quinn, but he didn't expect the other party's reaction to be so violent.
Quinn looked at the stubble embedded in her palms, with a hint of fear in her expression.
She rubbed her palms gently and let the bloody glass fall to the ground. Her pine needle-colored eyes dimmed, and there were a few wisps of haggard bloodshot eyes:
"As you can see, I'm in too deep."
The two were silent.
Click, click, click, click...
Ed was thinking about what to say when he heard the brass gears on the wooden base of the printing telegraph machine turning, moving the paper tray with a crisp sound, and printing symbols of different lengths on the paper strips.
He immediately walked over quickly, crossed the thick cable at his feet, took out the code book from the drawer with his right hand and opened it, and picked up a pencil with his left hand to translate the message on the straw paper:
Quinn also stood up and walked to the cipher machine to wait for Ed to translate the code. The haggard state just now had already disappeared in an instant.
A werewolf attack occurred at No. 22 Bauhinia Street. Please provide assistance as soon as possible.
The translated secret text is as above.
No. 22 Bauhinia Street, isn’t that the Winter Bookstore? Ed's expression changed. Could it be that something happened to Mr. George?
He handed the copied straw paper to Quinn, feeling mixed in his heart. He had a good impression of Mr. George, and originally wanted to use it as a common place to collect information.
Miss Quinn did not take the tissue paper, but turned away and asked:
"Are you sure the contents of the telegram are true?"
"The encrypted message Mr. Eaton gave me is used. As long as the code book is not leaked, it must be true."
"That's good. What did it say?"
Um?
Ed raised his head and found that Quinn's eyes were evasive and refused to take the note.
Could she be... illiterate?
Although the literacy rate of the citizens of the Kingdom of Lyria is as high as 83%, there is still 17% after all.
There was an undetectable arc at the corner of his mouth. He stood up and handed over the printing tape, slip of paper and password book respectfully, and said sincerely:
"You'd better proofread it yourself. After all, I'm just a layman, and I might make mistakes."
Miss Quinn's cheek twitched in embarrassment, her face turned from black to blue, and then she suppressed a blush:
"Tell me..." She spat out the first few words viciously, and then her voice became less and less confident, "...I don't know how to read."
"Then do you promise to take me with you?"
"If you follow me, you will only cause trouble for me and get yourself killed." Quinn rejected the suggestion with a firm tone.
"It's different. I'm a Beyonder now. If the murderer hides indoors, the one-eyed spider can be of great use."
"Oh, okay..." After hesitating again and again, Quinn exhaled with half a sigh and half annoyance, and pointed two fingers at the ceiling, "I promise."
"A werewolf attack occurred at No. 22 Bauhinia Street. Get there as soon as possible."
Before Ed finished speaking, Quinn neatly put on the gun bag and put on her coat. Holding the metal mask of the ferocious vicious dog in her hand, she hurried out, clearly intending to get rid of him and act alone:
"Stay here, don't run around, and remember to lock the doors and windows."
Click, click, click. Quinn's steps did not slow down at all, and he watched her push the door open. Tonight, the moon is shrouded in clouds, making it dark and dark, just like that rainy night.
The moment she was about to step out, Ed held on to his last hope and spoke sincerely:
"Trust me, Miss Quinn, I can take care of myself."
Suddenly, Miss Quinn stopped where she was.
Slowly, she half turned, and Ed, without flinching, stared into her eyes.
"Now that you've made up your mind, let's go..."
She said standing at the door. The night is particularly suitable for her, just like the dark forest is for the gray wolf.
