Opening his eyes, Ed took in the first breath of morning air - cold and moist.
He sat up and put on his shirt. After playing with the coins in his pocket for a moment, he finally gathered his energy to face a new day.
Last night's actions had a profound impact on the quality of his sleep, and the consequence was that Ed was now as sleepy as a dead dog.
He struggled downstairs. Quinn had been awake for a long time.
At this moment, she had already changed into new clothes, and a dark gray scarf wrapped the metal collar around her neck.
"Morning." She greeted him coldly and picked up the kettle to make coffee.
Her method of brewing coffee is extremely crude: sprinkle a spoonful of coffee powder, and then pour boiling water into the cup.
"Do you want a drink?" Quinn asked casually.
"good."
Ed realized that he needed a cup of coffee to cheer him up at this moment, so he made a decision that he regretted deeply.
Quinn actually handed over a cup of "coffee" - if that could be called coffee.
The sour and strong over-extracted taste hits your nose, and there is also a layer of river mud-like coffee grounds suspended in it.
If it had a fancy name like a cocktail, Ed would call it "The Ivy Bridge Incident."
Miss Quinn took a big sip as if nothing had happened, and said with a slightly apologetic tone: "Sorry, my craftsmanship is not very good."
"Uh...it's okay."
Speaking of which, Ed has no chance of retreating. He held his breath, like drinking strong liquor from a bullet glass, and took a dull sip.
"How about it?"
"..."
She smiled, the canine teeth between her lips becoming more obvious, and she seemed to be satisfied with Ed's expression at the moment.
"Are you sure this is coffee?"
Ed asked with a grimace, putting down his cup. Anyway, this cup of coffee does have a refreshing effect.
"What do you think it is?"
"The dirt on the soles of the shoes... or something. I even tasted shoe polish."
"Don't worry, it's coffee." She lowered her head and drank the remaining liquid in the cup.
"Okay," Ed picked up the cup and took another sip, shaking his head, "but it still looks like sludge."
Click, click, click, click...
The printing telegraph machine turned again and rolled out a note.
"Come again?" Ed sat down at his desk and sighed with emotion:
"Can't you just let me have a good rest for a day before coming back to a new case?"
"This is our job. Otherwise, what do you expect, sitting in the office and eating tea and biscuits every day?" Quinn had already begun to put on her luggage. "You haven't officially joined the team anyway. If you feel tired, I will go alone."
"A corpse robbery has occurred in the Green Church, please go and investigate as soon as possible." Ed read out the message word for word after proofreading it. He stood up, put on his coat, put on his hat and said:
"I think we should go together. Accumulate more experience, and we can get promoted and get a raise in the future."
…
The Green Church, named for its covered creepers, is built alongside the East End Cemetery.
This is sometimes called the "Green Flower Church". Because most of the people buried here are poor people, the relatives or friends who come here to mourn the deceased cannot afford white daisies or carnations, so they can only go to the countryside to pick a handful of wild flowers.
There are no magnificent stained glass windows or magnificent jade carvings inside. The tiny sunlight reflected on the cheap statue of the god, and the dust deepened the shadow on the god's body, but it shone with a dim and rich divinity.
Seven persons in one body, one spirit and seven appearances.
The seven statues display the seven manifestations of the divinity of the Holy Spirit:
The "green cedar man" who represents the secret text of the "hotbed";
The "Girl of the Lake" represents the secret text of "Lake";
The "Puppet Master" who represents the secret text of "Puppet";
The "Blind Woman" who represents the secret text of "Eye";
The "Night Watch" who represents the secret text of "Sunlight";
"Echo Lady" who represents the secret text of "Echo";
The "Pilgrimage Spider" represents the secret text of the "Spider Web".
Under the dim morning light, there were only a few rows of crowded wooden chairs stained with white pulp, and a strange man sitting on a bench nearby with his head down and brewing coffee.
The reason why I say he is strange is because this man is wearing a priest's robe, but his oily hair is erect, and his ears are studded with gold earrings. He looks very uncoordinated and weird.
Quinn seemed to know him well and greeted him very casually:
"Good morning Dylan, why are you the only one, where are the others?"
The priest's eyes were darkened, and he was making coffee with a calm expression:
"I was afraid that there would be something dirty, so I asked them to leave first."
"Look at your complexion...let me guess, did you go to Mansha Street to 'relieve the poor' again last night?"
Her smile when she said this was unbridled.
Of course Ed can understand what Quinn means by "helping the poor" - there is a well-known flower alley on Mansha Street called the "Jubilation Club".
If what Quinn said is true, Father Dylan must have gone there to spend a "beautiful night."
"Yeah, the coffee is almost ready. Do you want to drink it?" he replied tepidly.
"No, I drank at the detective station."
Yes, "Ivy Bridge corpse incident." Ed muttered in his mind.
"Who was on duty last night?"
"There's no one on duty."
"no one?"
"It takes at least three people to guard this cemetery. There are only five people in the whole church, me, a reader, two monks, and a deaf old nun. We have to receive believers during the day, and there is no manpower to watch at night."
He lowered his head and poured the boiling coffee into the enamel cup, his words showing dissatisfaction:
"The only useful person in my ruined temple was assigned to your Divine Adjustment Bureau, do you remember?"
Seeing that Quinn was speechless for a moment, Ed suggested:
"Is it possible to hire a full-time tombkeeper? As long as it costs a small salary, I believe there are many old, weak, sick and disabled believers who are willing to accept relief, right?"
"I did consider hiring a gravekeeper, but the corpses buried here are all poor people, and there are no valuable burial objects at all. No one would be interested - except the ghouls."
Father Dylan took a sip of coffee and continued:
"...If we really encounter ghouls, then they must be in trouble. They can't harm the living for the sake of the dead, right?"
Ed couldn't think of a better way in a short period of time. Corpse theft cases like this were so rare and bizarre that it was indeed difficult to prevent them. He could only nod and stretch out his hand:
"You are right... Edgar Waikolo, nice to meet you."
"Just call me Dylan."
The priest shook hands with Ed in a friendly manner, turned to look at Quinn, and his tone suddenly became harsh:
"Then again, where is Bernard? My dear detective brother has gone somewhere, isn't it time for him to show his prowess?"
Bernard...Bernard Eaton? Isn't that Mr. Eaton's name?
Ed was a little surprised that the fake priest in front of him turned out to be Mr. Eaton's brother.
"He..." Quinn hesitated, "Don't worry about this for now, let's talk more seriously. How many bodies were stolen in total? Find the murderer quickly, and then I can go have lunch."
She was full of confidence when she said this.
"There's only one, come with me."
After saying that, Dylan placed the half-drunk coffee cup beside the shrine and walked towards the cemetery at the back door.
This doesn't look like something a clergyman would do...
Ed muttered something secretly in his heart and took steps to follow.
…
The East Side Cemetery has a long history, even dating back to the reign of Voluni.
It was originally a mass grave where corpses were buried on the spot, and later evolved into a small cemetery.
Until the third great plague, the White Plague was rampant in Silvermist City, and 75% of the dead people came from the East District. The nobles and wealthy businessmen had already known the news in advance and fled to their villas outside the city in carriages.
In densely populated slums with poor sanitary conditions, "death kissed the windows of every house, taking away two hundred thousand lives."
In order to deal with the mountains of corpses, the government expanded the East District Cemetery and concentrated the burning and burial of corpses.
It is said that in those desperate days, people could see through the windows - in the summer of June, black snowflakes stained the glass windows like ashes, making a subtle hissing sound.
The morning mist shrouded the surroundings, and there was an unspeakable aura in the air. The dead branches were hung with frost, and a net of mottled shadows was cast on the ground.
The coffin lid under a tombstone has been opened, but the expected stale stench did not hit the face.
There is brown-green moss growing on the tombstone. It is obvious that it was not recently buried. The words engraved on it are light and concise:
"The love of my life, my wife,
Margaret Quinto is laid to rest here.
(870.6-899.3)”
The original confidence disappeared in Quinn's eyes, and her expression gradually turned into surprise and confusion:
"This is so weird..."
"The smell...is fading..."
