Gossip is ingrained in everyone's genes. The love for gossip knows no distinctions of rank, nationality, occupation, or social class. From royalty to commoners, everyone enjoys a good piece of juicy news.
Especially on-the-spot gossip—fresh and hot—it's the most captivating for onlookers.
At a local inn, a suicide had taken place. A geology professor from London had poisoned himself in his room, leaving behind a suicide note. The note was a confession of his miserable life, acknowledging the many wrongs he had done to his friends and students, hoping that his death might earn their forgiveness.
Near noon, the professor's assistant and students, finding no response when knocking on his door, alerted the innkeeper. Together, they broke in and found the professor's body and the note.
It was just an ordinary suicide case. The poison taken in a locked room, coupled with a handwritten note, almost ruled out homicide. When the police arrived, they confirmed the scene and were ready to close the case.
Coincidentally, a detective named Wesley from London was staying at the inn. After examining the scene, he insisted that the professor had been murdered.
Wesley believed it was a case of familiar crime, with the killer being one of the professor's assistant or students.
Almost simultaneously, Hood, a local detective from Enlord Town, came to the inn to deliver an investigative report to the professor. He was equally convinced that the professor had been murdered.
Hood, who had met the professor a few times, described him as an arrogant and selfish old man. It was unlikely such a character would suddenly repent and commit suicide to atone for his sins.
Lacking a motive for suicide, Hood argued that if the professor had any remorse, he would have ended his life much sooner, not now.
Thus, the two detectives were at odds.
Wesley, a well-known detective in London in his thirties with a good reputation in the industry, faced off against Hood, a nearly fifty-year-old local detective from Enlord Town, well-regarded for his professional skills and experience.
Without further ado, both detectives started their investigations, each determined to solve the case and apprehend the true culprit before the other.
The onlookers were thrilled. They didn't care about the professor's death or the identity of the murderer; they were simply eager to see which detective would come out on top.
A crowd gathered at the inn's entrance, eagerly awaiting the result. As word spread, more townspeople joined the growing crowd, blocking traffic and Wesley's car.
Hood, being on his home turf, received overwhelming support from the town's residents.
The betting odds were high!
Although Hood had the moral support of the townspeople, when it came to money, they preferred to bet on the London detective.
After all, a detective who could make a name for himself in London must be better than a local detective!
What about the police, you ask?
Some were busy managing traffic, while others were handling the bets. The officers of Windsor Kingdom were practical like that.
The police chief, a lazy man, saw Wesley and Hood investigating on site and decided to let them handle it. He detained the assistant and students, waiting for the detectives to do their work.
Since solving the case would get done either way, why not let the detectives do the legwork while the police still got paid?
Of course, officially, the chief's stance was that they were committed to uncovering the truth for the victim, and they would consider the detectives' findings during the investigation.
It's worth noting that with the progress of the times, even in the Windsor Kingdom, detectives no longer had the authority to enter crime scenes. Private detectives primarily worked in civil and commercial fields. When it came to criminal cases, detectives were generally sidelined.
Like Wayne's previous investigation into Dr. Reiner and his wife, if he had been caught while tailing and taking photos, he would have been in serious trouble.
This was Windsor, after all. Prisons were filled with people who had initially been clueless but soon became well-connected inside.
Returning to the story, Wayne pushed his way through the layers of onlookers, securing a front-row spot to enjoy the spectacle of the two detectives.
He saw the police chief and the two competing detectives emerging from the crime scene, seemingly in discussion.
With the enthusiastic crowd pointing them out, Wayne learned who the detectives were. Wesley was a clean-shaven, typical Windsor gentleman, while Hood was slightly overweight with a pair of black mustaches.
The atmosphere at the scene was cordial, disappointing Wayne. The detectives weren't as dramatic and hot-blooded as he had imagined; they were even sharing their findings and collaborating.
"Tsk, boring. Anime sure is deceptive," Wayne muttered, finding the lack of excitement unsatisfactory.
Like Wayne, the townspeople were also disappointed, jeering and inciting the detectives.
"Hood, you represent Enlord Town! Show the London guy what a local detective can do!"
"Hood, I've bet tonight's beer money on the London detective. Don't win, okay?"
"Don't worry, Hood can't solve the case. His detective skills are inferior to the London detective. Otherwise, he'd have gone to London to make a fortune."
"Hey, I don't like that! What's wrong with a London detective? They're human too. I support Hood; he's the crowd's favorite." Wayne, feeling bored, joined the crowd's instigation, engaging in a heated debate with the equally bored man in the bowler hat next to him.
"Wesley is also the crowd's favorite in London. I've heard of him; he's been in the papers many times and is often commissioned by the London police to assist with cases," said the bowler hat man, holding a cane and a newspaper under his arm, dismissing Wayne's words.
"A complete nobody. Honestly, I'm from London, and I'm a detective too. I've never heard of Wesley, nor have I seen him in the papers."
"You don't even know Wesley, and you call yourself a London detective? If you're a detective, I'll eat this newspaper!" The bowler hat man, seemingly a die-hard fan of Wesley, became agitated after a few words.
Before Wayne could respond, the onlookers laughed, and word spread quickly, filling the entire street with a joyful atmosphere.
"Who's going to duel and where?"
"I heard a pretty boy slept with the hat shop owner's wife..."
"funnymudpee!"
"Damn it, who groped my butt? Can't you be gentler?"
"Damn, my wallet's gone."
"fcukyouseconduncle!"
The chaotic crowd severely disrupted order, quickly drawing the ire of the police chief, who loudly scolded the spectators to quiet down.
The bowler hat man, unable to stand Wayne's boasting, shouted, "Chief, this gentleman is also a detective. Why not let him provide some input?"
Another detective! The crowd turned to look at Wayne standing next to the bowler hat man. Wayne's two colleagues also glanced over. The chief, slightly surprised, motioned for an officer to bring Wayne over.
"This gentleman, what's your name?"
"Wayne."
"Mr. Wayne, where are you from? I haven't seen you around Enlord Town before." The chief, though not exceptionally skilled, had a good memory and knew every face in the small town.
If he didn't recognize someone, they had to be from out of town.
"From London, here on vacation, staying over there," Wayne replied, pointing towards the large house.
Following Wayne's direction, the chief's eyes gleamed, and his tone became respectful, "Ah, Mr. Wayne, apologies for the rudeness. I hear you're also a detective?"
"A part-time detective. I run a detective agency for fun."
Wayne waved his hand dismissively. With two professional detectives and a bunch of officers on the scene, he didn't want to get involved.
After some wandering and mischief, Wayne decided it was time to head back for some meditation.
Just then, the professor's body, covered with a white cloth, was carried out. The case was tricky, with the forensic team still puzzled after examining the crime scene. They were preparing to take a few suspects back to the town police station for questioning.
The two detectives would accompany them.
Most cases are solved in the office, with few solved directly at the crime scene through deduction.
Wayne glanced at the body, then at the suspects, stopping at a middle-aged man.
This man reeked of the professor's scent from head to toe... the scent of the professor's corpse!
While the other suspects had the same scent, it wasn't as strong, indicating that the man had spent a lot of time alone with the professor's body.
Recalling what he had heard, Wayne deduced that the suspects' scent came from breaking into the sealed room, while the man...
Got it!
You were hiding behind the door when they broke in, weren't you?
No wonder your nose is so red. Did you bump it?
You've got some nerve, standing there with the professor's body all night. Don't your legs go numb? Aren't you afraid the professor will have a chat with you in the middle of the night?
Wayne identified the killer, deducing the process from the result. He whispered a few words to the chief, then bid him farewell and returned to the large house.
Anyone else pointing out a killer based on just a look without entering the crime scene would have been laughed off by the chief. But Wayne was different; his temporary residence was quite notable.
Mr. Randol made annual donations to the Enlord Town police department, allowing the local officers to enjoy the same benefits as those in London.
Would the friend of a benefactor lie?
No way!
Back at the station, the chief personally interrogated the suspects. His first question turned the middle-aged man's face pale.
"There was someone else in the room besides the professor's body. After poisoning the professor, he placed the suicide note and hid behind the door, waiting for others to break in, creating the illusion of a sealed-room suicide, right?"
"You can remain silent, but someone noticed you weren't wearing gloves. The wall behind the door might have your fingerprints."
The middle-aged man confessed; he had indeed killed the professor.
The quick resolution of the case surprised both detectives, especially Hood, who looked as if he had seen a ghost.
WTF, is this the same useless chief he knew? Was he replaced?
The chief, smug for a moment, explained to the detectives, "The case was solved by Mr. Wayne. He identified the suspect and deduced the sequence of events at a glance."
"..." x2
Just a glance, how is that possible? x2
"Wesley, you're a London detective. Surely you've heard of his name?" the chief asked.
Wesley: "..."
No, this was his first time hearing this colleague's name.
The two detectives exchanged glances, both becoming interested in Wayne. After leaving the station, Hood said, "Wesley, should we invite him?"
"Let's try."
Wesley nodded. He had been tracking the Geocentric Cult for a long time, and just when he caught a lead, the informant professor was poisoned.