Chapter 394: Jack's Testimony (Part 1)
Chapter 394: Jack's Testimony (Part 1)
After seeing Kolsten off, Feng Bu Jue returned to his seat behind the desk and fell into deep thought.
Scofield didn’t disturb him. The detective was preoccupied, mulling over the information they had gathered so far.
"At this moment, I truly envy someone like Nero Wolfe", Feng Bu Jue suddenly remarked after a pause. "You know—Ritters Staud’s renowned consulting detective. That obese, reclusive orchid enthusiast who charges exorbitant fees."
"Hmm... I suppose if you wished, you could become an excellent 'armchair detective' yourself", Scofield replied.
"Of course I could", Feng Bu Jue said smugly, his narcissistic streak flaring. "But when I say I envy him, it’s not for his talents. I envy him for not having to deal with this tedious intelligence-gathering work."
Scofield shrugged. "Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable. While this case only involves nine suspects, the information Mark obtained through routine inquiry... simply isn’t enough to pinpoint the killer."
"Three have been mostly ruled out already", Feng Bu Jue muttered. "Master Kolsten Lovecraft, Butler Henderson, and Maid Oliver. One lacks the physical capability, one lacks the guts to commit murder, and the other couldn't possibly cling to the exterior wall to execute the secret room strategy."
"Other?" Scofield interjected.
"You’ve noticed too", Feng Bu Jue said. "Maid Oliver’s height is barely around 1.6 meters, and her weight exceeds even Dennis’s. With such a broad, sturdy build, she might barely manage to climb out the window, but there’s no way she could cling to the exterior wall to execute Secret Room strategizing."
"Ah... Right", Scofield admitted, finally comprehending. He paused briefly before continuing, "Still... why didn’t you eliminate the gardener as a suspect? Madam Carol discovered the corpse while Gardener Barton was speaking with you in your room, wasn’t he?"
"So what?" Feng Bu Jue replied coolly. "Maybe Barton had just finished murdering Dennis before coming to my room? In my opinion, no one in this villa has a rock-solid alibi." He added, "That includes myself. I don’t have one either. So, Detective Mr., you should keep an extra eye on me. Though the odds are slim, we can’t completely rule out the possibility of my involvement."
"That’s impossible", Scofield chuckled. "You had no motive at all. Besides, Dennis Mr. even helped you, didn’t he?"
"Maybe I lost my sanity?" Feng Bu Jue asked seriously. "Don’t you think I’m capable of that?"
As Scofield hesitated over whether to voice his unspoken thought—"Actually, you might be"—a knock at the door interrupted.
Dempsey called from outside, "Sir, Mr. Jack Lovecraft has arrived."
"Good. Invite him in", Scofield said promptly.
Jack barged in, striding confidently toward the center of the room. As Dempsey closed the door behind him, Jack glanced back before turning to face Feng Bu Jue and Scofield with a dismissive smirk. "What’s this? An interrogation?"
"Not at all", Feng Bu Jue replied with a smile. "Just some questions we’d like to ask."
"Ha!" Jack laughed loudly as he plopped into a chair, crossing his legs arrogantly. "The legendary celebrated detective, seeking my advice?"
"You hadn’t heard of me before the police arrived, had you?" Feng Bu Jue asked.
"Right", Jack said. "I don’t read newspapers much. Even when I do, I don’t care about criminal investigation reports."
"I see", Feng Bu Jue said. "I suppose you mostly read the entertainment section?"
"That’s right", Jack drawled, his eyes fixed on the notebook in Feng Bu Jue’s hand. "I’ve already told that other officer. What? Is that a crime now?"
"Of course not", Feng Bu Jue replied smoothly. "But let’s imagine... if you, an out-of-favor rock star, had killed your own brother..."
"Hey! What are you implying?!" Jack snapped.
"What’s wrong?" Feng Bu Jue said with that infuriating smirk returning. "Are you upset about being called 'out-of-favor' or the murder accusation? Or both?"
"What evidence do you have?" Jack retorted. "Without proof, this is defamation!"
"Evidence?" Feng Bu Jue scoffed, a cold chuckle escaping. "'You should be glad I don’t have a gun like that.' You said those exact words to Dennis before the incident", he recited. "Everyone heard it—including me."
"So what?" Jack shot back. "Anyone can tell that was just a joke!"
"If he hadn’t died, yes", Feng Bu Jue said, resting his right hand on the desk as his fingers tapped rhythmically like waves. "But now that he’s dead, the situation changes. Considering the context, may I interpret your words as: 'If I had that gun, I’d hit you instead of the ceiling.'"
"Nonsense! Complete rubbish!" Jack shot up from his chair. "What kind of celebrated detective are you?!" He turned to Scofield. "Officer! You’re just letting him slander an innocent man?!"
"I’m starting to think", Scofield said, adopting his authoritative detective tone and fixing Jack with a grave stare, "you’re the most suspicious. Among all suspects, you’re the only one whose physique matches the victim’s. Psychologically speaking, someone strong has more audacity to commit murder, doesn’t he?"
"You..." Jack faltered, speechless.
"Since you mentioned your rock band..." Feng Bu Jue smoothly interjected. "I assume you’re familiar with things like violin strings?" He paused. "Coincidentally... the murder weapon was a similar object."
"You know what...?" Jack growled, his voice tight with frustration. "If there weren’t officers here, I’d already punch you."
"Hmph. I advise against impulsiveness", Feng Bu Jue raised an eyebrow, smirking. "My leg techniques are sharp enough to kick through this desk."
"Gentlemen", Scofield finally intervened, "let’s return to constructive discussion. Your conduct is becoming more suited to street thugs than suspects in a murder investigation..."
"Hmph", Jack snorted, sitting back down. He glared at Feng Bu Jue. "Tell me, why would I kill my own brother? Just because of today’s argument? I didn’t even know why he and my father were arguing. Why would I commit murder?"
(End of Chapter)
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