At this moment, Deacon Baldell, who had been calm all this while, violently lowered his head and looked at the detective's corpse in his hand!
The corpse that had long lost all signs of life was like a bloody rag doll. Its eyes did not blink, and its mouth did not move. However, the strangest thing was that it was still making sounds as if it was talking to itself. There was even a hint of mockery in its tone…
"Then, thinking along this line of thought, it's also obvious why you took the deceased's clothes away. Was it because you gave her that dress? Perhaps it was the only gift you had ever given her since the marriage… She once flaunted it in front of her few friends and only wore it in your presence?
"Haha, that was the alley you invited her to."
A deacon who had been busy every day finally invited his wife for a date after being married for many years.
But who would have thought… that such a woman who should be respected and envied,
was actually promiscuous and unchaste…"
"Pfft!"
Deacon Baldell stomped on the head of the corpse.
This kick was so hard that the toughest bones in the human body were instantly crushed by the huge force. The aftershock blew up the scattered pieces of tissue, brain matter, and bone fragments, splattering crazily on the wall, making a crackling sound.
However, something was not right. This kick could clearly penetrate the floor, but it did not cause much damage to the small apartment. It did not even shake off the dust.
Deacon Baldell seemed to have realized something. He reached his hand to the back of his neck and… touched an extremely inconspicuous cobweb.
"Then… why did you kill those women in the downtown area?
Initially, you did not want to kill your wife, so you vented your anger on other unchaste people?
And why the obsession with cutting all the internal organs into four pieces?
Uh, could it be that your wife cheated on you with four people… You were quite fair and wanted to share her equally with everyone she had been with?'
Although sometimes it was really hard to understand, people like you who had been psychologically repressed for a long time would always have weird ideas.
As for why was the womb being left behind?
The detective's voice was still ringing from all around the apartment, from the broken pieces of flesh that had been stomped into bits and smeared all over the wall, "Hiss… Could it be that there's already another life in her womb?"
Did you discover it after cutting her open? But you didn't know if this life belonged to you… So, for a moment, you didn't dare to do it?
Or did you think that she had once been loaded with someone else's genetic information, so you felt disgusted and didn't want to touch it?
"Tsk, although it is all conjecture, it should be the case…"
Sherlock's voice was not loud, but it was penetrating. Every sound of exclamation or laughter was ear-piercing.
Deacon Baldell lowered his head slightly…
Although he still did not say a word, the veins on his thick neck kept dilating in anger. The blood inside seemed about to burst through the vessel wall and spew out with substantial fury.
At the same time, his hand tore off the cobwell behind his neck…
At this moment, everything in front of him became blurry, as if paint was dissolving and restructuring in water.
The corpse disappeared, and so did the blood. Everything returned to how it was when he first entered.
It turned out that he had not moved since then…
Sherlock sat on the worn-out leather sofa with his legs crossed and his fingers intertwined on his knees.
Beside him…
Catherine stood upright while the old priest sat on another sofa. Beside her was a huge spider that made one's heart turn cold.
"Look… I told you that the killer would come looking for us," Sherlock said as he spread his hands as though he did not feel the suffocating oppression in the air.
However, as he spoke, the killer had already exposed himself and confessed.
This case… At this moment, the truth was already out.
However, there were still many questions… For example, when did Deacon Baldell find out that his wife had cheated on him? Did the beautiful woman cheat on him with four people at different times, or did all four of them come at the same time? If they were together, how big would the bed have to be? What position would they be in? What frequency did they maintain? And whose child was conceived in the womb?
Well, none of that mattered. After all, as mentioned earlier, for some cases, one did not need to know too many details, just who to arrest.
It was easy to explain why Sherlock knew who the killer was.
Because Deacon Baldell was really a little impatient…
He was so impatient to the point that every time Sherlock repeated his reasoning, the other party would raise some questions at the most critical points.
This was inconsistent with his persona. As a deacon of the judicial department, his job had always been to hunt down and judge. This group of law enforcement machines had always only cared about the target and not the reason. Everyone in the empire knew this very well… As the husband of the deceased, or a devout follower of the Vatican, his mind should be filled with the eagerness to find the killer within 24 hours, then throw him into the blood prison of the Vatican and torture him to death!
But such a person actually paid attention to the details of the deduction in solving the case?
It was like a person asking someone at the table behind him during an exam for the answers to multiple-choice questions and then asking the other party to write down the steps for solving each question.
This was too strange. To copy the answers to multiple-choice questions, one naturally only needed to know the options…
Of course, all of the above came from the experience of a detective and his irresponsible arrogance.
Sherlock was such a person. He knew very well that his deduction was correct. It was like he knew how to stuff a person into a suitcase and not worry that the person would die.
Hence, the killer arrived as expected. With the help of some abyssal powers, he obediently revealed his identity as the killer in the shroud of the Holy Light.
A case had ended perfectly.
…
Uh… it did not seem to be over yet.
Because the huge spider beside the old priest began to emit a sharp hissing sound, Catherine's gaze became more and more solemn, and the air seemed to have begun to become viscous.
Beside Baldell, a pitch-black crack was silently torn open.
It was an abyssal rift that connected to hell…
Then, with a low growl, a few huge fangs poked out of the crack.
…