At eight o 'clock in the evening, in the mansion's dining room.
Other than the maid, Oliver, the rest of the suspects were already seated on both sides of a long table. Officer Dempsey was guarding the door of the dining room. His posture seemed casual, but in fact, he was closely monitoring everyone in the room.
The atmosphere in the dining room was very depressing, and there was little conversation. Everyone sat there, thinking about their own thoughts. Of course, this was normal … Under this roof, a cruel murder had just happened not long ago. Except for Feng Bujue, who could maintain a good mood?
"The moonlight tonight is beautiful, isn't it?" Feng Bujue's figure appeared at the door, attracting everyone's attention. He seemed to be in high spirits, as if he was releasing a signal to everyone, hinting that he had found the real murderer.
However, because of his previous behavior, the Lovecraft family did not have a good impression of this great detective. Although this fellow's reasoning was clear, convincing, vivid, and seemingly true … But in the end, his messy slander all had very obvious loopholes, and they were loopholes that ordinary people could see through with a single glance and refute with a single sentence.
"It's a pity that there is no mold. Otherwise, I would make a batch of mooncakes for dessert." Feng Bujue walked to the dining table as he spoke. There was a large paper bag under his arm, and it seemed to be filled with a lot of things.
Auntie Oliver pushed a small trolley and followed behind Brother Jue into the restaurant. The cart had three floors, and it was full of dishes.
"Your kitchen here is really good, Mr. Lovecraft." Feng Bujue sat down across from his host and placed the paper bag that he was holding under his chair. "I've been to some so-called 'high-end restaurants' before. They have a luxurious facade, a luxurious dining environment, luxurious cutlery, and luxurious prices. But the kitchen was dirty and messy … It was filled with all kinds of buzzing and wriggling invertebrates, and the cooks were most likely spies sent by those animals to the humans because their only talent was to use their hands to make disgusting dark matter. "
"If you want to start the conversation with a compliment …" Colston looked at Brother Jue coldly and replied, "Just say the first sentence. There is no need to take the opportunity to share your unpleasant past with us."
As they spoke, Oliver had pushed the cart to the dining table. Because the tableware had been set up beforehand, she began to serve the dishes.
Henderson saw this, stood up from the chair, and walked to the cart. "Let me help you, Oliver."
"No, sit down, Henderson." Jack quickly got up and walked over, pressing the old butler back into the chair. "Let me do it." This second's young master was very nice to the servants, and he was too embarrassed to let the old man's help him with the dishes.
Not long after, a plate of appetizers was placed in front of everyone.
Feng Bujue obviously did not intend to be courteous with this family. Not only did he not stand up to help, but he also grabbed the half-empty bottle of red wine in the middle of the table and poured himself a glass.
"Hmm … DOM de TREVALLLO, 1985 …" Feng Bujue only took a sip before he picked up the bottle to examine it. "Ah … Life is full of surprises." He had made a profit this time. In real life, this bottle of red wine could probably be exchanged for a gaming cabin …
"Why? Do you know that winery too? " Mrs. Odetta said. "Master likes it very much. Every year, we order a batch of goods from there."
"Ah … I do know." Feng Bujue shrugged. "It's just … My financial condition doesn't allow me to spend in bulk every year at a well-known winery in southeastern France … I'm afraid the only goods I can stock up on are toilet paper and carbonated drinks."
"Oliver …" Miss Nancy, who was on the other side of the table, suddenly spoke. "Did you make this dish?" She looked at the food on the plate in front of her with a puzzled expression.
"No, today's dishes were all made by Mr. Feng," Oliver replied, then pushed the cart to the kitchen to get the soup. Usually, she, Barton, and Henderson ate separately from the master and madam. Dr. Powell's home was in town, so he usually went back before evening. Therefore, it was rare for more than ten people to gather at the same table for a meal like today.
"Oh?" Nancy turned to Feng Bujue and said, "I didn't know … You're so good at cooking. This charcoal grilled asparagus with salmon eggs is already at a professional level, right? Compared to a detective, I think you're more suited to be a chef. "
When the man was talking, Feng Bujue was pouring red wine into his glass. It looked like before he finished the wine, he did not plan to hand the bottle over to anyone else. "There are many things that I can do. This is nothing."
"Hmph … If you cook well, you'll be a beggar until you're old." Jack stuffed a piece of asparagus into his mouth. Judging from his attitude, he was obviously looking for trouble.
"There's my boogers in your plate," Feng Bujue only took a second to calmly say this extremely lethal sentence.
Jack's expression changed abruptly. He coughed and choked.
"Haha … I'm kidding." Feng Bujue said two seconds later, "The plates were placed randomly on the cart, and you were the one who assigned them. How is that possible?"
"You …" Jack wanted to curse, but there were elders and ladies at this table. He couldn't afford to lose his temper, so he could only wipe his mouth with a napkin and swallow his anger.
"See, my analytical skills are still very convincing," Feng Bujue said with a smile.
"That's enough, Mr. Feng," Colston said, "Enough with the jesting." He stared at Brother Jue. "You asked the police to restrict our freedom and claimed that you knew who the murderer was, but you refused to say it." He exhaled. "Odetta said that you went to the kitchen to help more than an hour ago. I thought you were just using the excuse of helping to ask her and Oliver. I didn't expect you to really go and cook … You, what do you want to do?"
"Haha … What do I want?" Feng Bujue picked up his knife and fork and began to destroy the appetizer in front of him. "You're asking the obvious, Mr. Lovecraft." He chewed on the asparagus and made a tsk tsk sound. He didn't mind revealing the food in his mouth when he spoke. "Everyone here … is looking forward to a detective show, right? Ha … Don't worry, the famous detective Feng Bujue won't let you down. I'll give you a good show now. "
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