For a month, no new murder cases occurred.
One day a month later, Jorgen's tightly closed broken door was knocked open by Bartholomew.
"You don't look very well, Jorgen, old friend." Bartholomew said.
"Did you come to me voluntarily just to say such an irrelevant greeting?" Jorgen still remembered when he asked Bartholomew for information about the second victim, Raiden Fandaron, the embarrassed look on his face.
"Oh, your cat is very well fed. Fat like she's pregnant." Bartholomew teased the black cat sleeping on the balcony.
"She is pregnant."
"I think you should plant some potted plants here..."
Jorgen slammed the door that Bartholomew had not closed after coming in, frightening Bartholomew with the loud noise. "Enough, stop this nonsense. What do you really want to say?"
"I'm sorry, I was...just a little distracted," Bartholomew said awkwardly, then sat down at the table. "This past month has been hard for me, Jorgen. The killer hasn't been caught yet, and my colleagues are talking about 'Van Cleef's ghost' all day, making me uneasy. I've been afraid that I might become the next..."
"Yes, that's possible," Jorgen said half seriously and half self-deprecatingly. "So far I have not found any real connection between the first three victims. If the killer's net is cast wide enough, you will definitely not escape, Bartholomew. One day, your body will be found under some eaves, all your blood drained except for the big red 'V3' on the wall."
"My God, Holy Light!" Bartholomew was frightened, which was exactly the reaction Jorgen wanted. "The Holy Light cannot save you."
"I hope you can catch the killer as soon as possible, so...I want to tell you something. Only a few people know these things...I should have kept the secret, but if it helps you..."
"Speak, I'm listening. And I promise not to tell anyone."
"Okay." Bartholomew swallowed. "Edwin Van Cleef had an identical twin brother. His name was Gothalo Van Cleef."
This was the most unexpected information Jorgen had received in his many years of work. He couldn't help frowning, absorbing every word Bartholomew said.
Twenty-seven years ago, on a snowy night that the homeless could barely endure, the less than one month old Van Cleef brothers were abandoned at the door of the Stormwind Orphanage. They were wrapped in the same thin blanket, and each had a paper ring on their finger with their date of birth and name written on it. By the time the orphanage maid found them, they were both barely alive.
The maid did not know who was the elder brother and who was the younger, so she arbitrarily divided them according to weight. The thinner Gothalo Van Cleef became the younger brother.
This not only divided their seniority, but also seemed to divide their fate. The elder brother Edwin was extremely intelligent and was recommended to a formal elementary school, receiving a full scholarship for the school year. The younger brother Gothalo, on the other hand, was dumb and foolish, often bullied.
However, fifteen years ago, when the two turned twelve, Gothalo disappeared.
"Disappeared...?" Jorgen made no attempt to hide his suspicion.
"Absolutely true, really disappeared...! No records, no parties involved...he just disappeared like that. I am a royal agent of the Census Bureau. If it is a missing person record that even I have to conceal... My God, this thing always frightens me."
"Have some water." Jorgen moved a glass of water in front of Bartholomew.
Bartholomew only took a sip, but still almost choked. He couldn't control his growing agitation.
"To be honest, when I learned about this murder case from you, my first thought was 'maybe this was the missing brother taking revenge for his brother'. But lately, this idea has become increasingly clear and frightening, and I have lost control of it... I will think, the Van Cleef we killed, was it really Edwin? Or was it Edwin who disappeared at the age of twelve? And which of the twins is the killer who killed three people? Did this pair of brothers really exist? What is the truth? By the day I am killed, who will plunge the dagger into my heart?..."
His hands trembled uncontrollably as he held the cup.
"Help me, Jorgen. I've been having nightmares for a week..."
"I'll do my best." Jorgen said. "Bartholomew, you are a royal agent. You cannot let your emotions be seen by others at this time."
"I said I would tell you everything...one last thing. The maid who took in the Van Cleef brothers twenty-seven years ago is still alive. A month ago, she just moved back to Stormwind City and inherited her late husband's mansion. Her name is Greshana Prinsche. Go find her, Jorgen, maybe you can get what you need. I can no longer endure such nightmares..."