When the fragrant Kelly Lamb Knee Stewed with Fennel was served, Feng Bujue bent down slightly, picked up the paper bag under the chair, and took out a rather large envelope.
"You should recognize this envelope, right? Mr. Lovecraft? "Feng Bujue said to Colston.
The latter hesitated for two seconds before he was shocked. In an instant, his expression changed from shock to anger. "You … You thief! You're blatantly stealing! " He stood up agitatedly and pointed at Feng Bujue. He turned to Detective Scofield and yelled, "Arrest him! Officer! "
"What's going on?" Scofield couldn't figure out the situation for a moment because he didn't know what was in Brother Jue's paper bag.
About forty minutes ago, the detective had contacted one of his former colleagues, who was still working in a police department in a big city, and had readily agreed to help Scofield. Twenty minutes later, the detective called again, and the other party had already obtained information about Barton the gardener from the archives and faxed it (after the 1980s, as standardization and technology matured, fax machines rapidly developed and became popular, and people like Lovecraft naturally had their own fax machines).
The detective didn't know where Feng Bujue had gone between when he received the fax and when he appeared at the door of the restaurant just now.
"It's a very simple matter." Feng Bujue said, "I just snuck into Mr. Lovecraft's room and stole this will from his safe."
"What!" This time, everyone at the table was shocked.
"You … This …" Scofield was at a loss.
"Furthermore, I've already taken a look at it." Feng Bujue used a light tone to add, "Look, the seal has already been torn open." He even showed it to everyone. "Don't worry, I think Master Colston's lawyer still has a stack of identical copies. Things like wills are usually made in two or even three copies. It doesn't matter even if I burn the copy in my hand. "
If Old Master Colston was said to be a burning fire, then Feng Bujue's words, attitude, and actions were like firewood, gasoline, and liquefied gas … If Feng Bujue was twenty years younger, he would have already jumped on the table and run over to kick him.
"I saw something interesting …" Feng Bujue put the will on the table, picked up the knife and fork, and continued to eat the mutton.
"Mr. Feng!" Scofield suddenly stood up and took out a pair of handcuffs from his waist. "You should know that your actions …"
"It's theft." Feng Bujue interrupted, "Of course I know … Don't worry, detective. Since I took it out, it's equivalent to admitting guilt, isn't it?" He looked completely indifferent. "Do I look like I'm running away?" "When I'm done with this murder, you can handcuff me and take me to the police station in town overnight."
"No! You have to arrest him now! Officer! Why do you have to listen to a thief? " Colston, with a cry of desperation, rose from his seat with the aid of his crutch, and walked with all his might round the long table and along its head.
"Haha … What do you want to do? Take back the will and knock me out with your crutches while you're at it? Do you think this will stop me from revealing the contents? " Feng Bujue sat down calmly, and his expression was relaxed. It was as if the old man who was charging at him was not a threat at all.
Scofield stopped him and said to Colston who was approaching, "Sir, please don't be rash, violence is not allowed …"
"Sit down!" Suddenly, Feng Bujue roared. At this moment, his tone and demeanor instantly changed.
He took out a pistol from the paper bag beside him at lightning speed, raised it, and aimed. His movements were so practiced and fast that it was hard to believe that he was a good citizen …
Brother Jue's gun was not pointed at Colston, but at someone else. A person who stood up quietly and tried to approach from the side — Barton.
"I know you're good at fighting." At that moment, Feng Bujue's expression was resolute and cold. He looked straight at his target. "But my shooting skills are not bad."
The expression on Barton's face changed several times. The cowardly, kind, and fussy gardener disappeared in just a few seconds. What replaced him was a man who was cold, patient, and unfathomable. On his face, there was another person's shadow. That person was the owner of the villa … Colston.
"Officer, do you have a gun with you?" Feng Bujue stared at Barton and opened his lips to ask.
"Mr. Feng … Before things get out of hand, I advise you …" Scofield did not finish his sentence.
Feng Bujue interrupted, "If you don't have one, use mine."
At that moment, Scofield recovered from his initial shock and understood the situation. He composed himself, quickly walked forward, and took the gun in Feng Bujue's hand. Then, he raised the gun with both hands, aimed at Barton, and ordered loudly, "Demudi, handcuff Mr. Barton."
"Yes … Yes!" Demudi was stunned for a moment, but he still did as he was told. Although he did not understand the situation in front of him, he should listen to his superior's orders.
When Barton was handcuffed, Colston broke down. He sat on the ground, as if he had aged ten years in an instant. His soulless eyes frightened his family.
Odetta, Jack, and Nancy ran over and surrounded Colston, trying to help him.
"At this point, should I call you John Barton?" Feng Bujue asked, "Or … John Lovecraft?"
As soon as he said that, everyone in the room looked at Barton, including Oliver, who happened to be pushing the cart in. Everyone froze …
The changes in the past few minutes and Feng Bujue's words seemed to have revealed everything.
"When did you start suspecting me?" Barton asked in a deep voice.
"When will it be?" Seeing that the situation was under control, Feng Bujue picked up the fork and knife again and started to move the food into his mouth. "On the lawn outside the bungalow, when I'm investigating with the police."
"Did I leave any traces outside Denis's guest room window?" Barton asked.
"No, it has nothing to do with that." Feng Bujue said, "I was convinced that you were the murderer after I saw the tree outside Master Colston's house."
"You …" Barton was stunned. "Ha … Hahaha … Hahahaha …" He laughed, then continued, "I underestimated you. You could even notice that kind of detail …"
"Ah, of course." Feng Bujue replied coldly, "And when I listed you as a key suspect, the flaws and flaws in your clumsy performance in front of me earlier were revealed one by one." He shook his head. "Painting a snake with legs and digging your own grave is the most appropriate way to describe you in this case."
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