Knock!
Knock, knock!
There was a series of quick knocks. Klein sat straight up.
"Who is it?" He asked.
The other party replied in the Awwa accent, "It's me, Mountbatten, Bitsch Mountbatten."
The voice paused for a moment before adding, "The police."
Bitsch Mountbatten was the policeman in charge of the street outside the apartment. He was a rude, brutal, hands-on man. But perhaps only such a man could be a deterrent for alcoholics, thieves, part-time thieves, villains, and hooligans.
"Okay, I'll be right there!" Klein responded. He tidied up his clothes and approached the door.
Outside the door stood four policemen in black-and-white checkered uniforms with peak caps. Bitsch Mountbatten, the one with a brown beard, coughed and said, "These three inspectors have something to ask you."
Klein looked at the shoulder badges of the other three and found that two of them had three silver hexagons and one had two, which looked superior to Bitsch Mountbatten, with only three chevrons.
As a history student, Klein knew little of the ranks of police epaulets, except that Bitsch Mountbatten often boasted of being a senior sergeant.
So these three are inspectors? Influenced by conversations with Benson, Welch, and his classmates, Klein had the common sense to make way and point into the room.
"Please come in. How might I help you?"
The leader of the three inspectors was a middle-aged man that seemed to be able to see through others. He looked around the room and asked. "Do you know Welch McGovern?"
"What's wrong with him?" Klein blurted back.
"I'm the one asking the questions."
The inspector next to him, also wearing three silver hexagons, looked at Klein and smiled.
"Don't be nervous. It's just routine questioning."
This policeman was in his thirties, with a straight nose and gray eyes.
Klein took a breath and organized his words.
"If you mean Welch McGovern, the graduate of Khoy University from Constant, then I know him. We are classmates with the same mentor, Senior Associate Professor Quentin Cohen."
In the Loen Kingdom, there could only be one professor in a university's department. If an associate professor wanted to become a professor, they had to wait for their superior to retire or force them out.
As talents needed to be retained, the kingdom's Higher Education Commission had added senior associate professors in the three-level system of lecturers, associate professors, and professors after years of observation. This title was given to anyone with high academic achievements or with enough seniority but who did not make it to the position of professor.
"To be honest, our relationship is quite good. During this period, I met with him and Naya frequently to interpret and discuss the Fourth Epoch notebook that belonged to him. Inspectors, did something happen to him?"
Instead of answering, the middle-aged police inspector looked sideways at his gray-eyed colleague.
The inspector with the peak cap replied mildly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Welch has passed away."
"WHAT?" Despite having some hunches, Klein could not help but shout out in astonishment.
Welch died just like the original owner of this body?
"What about Naya?" Klein questioned.
"Ms. Naya passed away too," the gray-eyed police inspector said quite calmly. "Both of them died in Mr. Welch's house."
"Killed?" Klein had a vague guess.
The gray-eyed inspector shook his head. "No, the scene suggests that they committed suicide. Mr. Welch hit the wall with his head many times. Ms. Naya drowned herself in a basin."
"That's impossible..." Klein's said.
The inspector continued, "We believe so too, but the autopsy results and the situation at the scene exclude factors such as drugs and external forces. They—being Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya—showed no signs of struggling."
Before Klein could speak again, he stepped into the room. "When was the last time you saw Mr. Welch or Ms. Naya?"
As he spoke, he gestured with his eyes to his colleague with two silver hexagons. He was a young man around the same age as Klein. With black sideburns and green pupils, he was good-looking and had a poet's romantic temperament.
Klein answered thoughtfully, "It should be June 26th; we were reading a new chapter in the notes. Then, I went home to prepare for my interview on June 30th. Uh, the interview was for the History Department of Tingen University."
In Tingen there were two universities, Tingen and Khoy, as well as technical schools, law colleges, and business colleges. Second only to the capital, Backlund.
Klein saw the young police inspector walk towards his desk and pick up the notes, which resembled a diary.
Damn! I forgot to hide it!
"Hey!" Klein cried out.
The young inspector did not stop flipping through his notes while the gray-eyed inspector explained, "This is a necessary procedure."
At this time, Bitsch Mountbatten and the dignified middle-aged police inspector were just watching without interrupting or assisting in the search.
Where are your search warrants? Klein had intended to question them, but on second thought, the judicial system of the Loen Kingdom did not seem to have search warrants. At least he did not know if there was one.
The police force had only been established for fifteen or sixteen years. Klein couldn't stop them. He watched as the young inspector flipped through his notes.
The inspector turned to the end of the notes. "What does this mean? 'Everyone will die, including me'."
Isn't it common sense that everyone dies except for deities? Klein was prepared to quibble, but it occurred to him that he had planned to "connect" with the police in case of possible danger.
He put his hand over his forehead. "I have no idea. I really have no idea… When I woke up this morning, I felt I wasn't quite right, as if I had forgotten something. It's especially true for whatever happened recently. I don't even know why I wrote such a sentence."
Sometimes being frank was the best way to solve a problem. But some things could be said and others could not, and the order of what was said first mattered. As an expert keyboard warrior, Klein was also good at sophistry.
"That is ridiculous! Do you think we are fools?" Bitsch Mountbatten could not help but interject angrily.
This was such a bad lie that it insults the intelligence of his and his colleagues. It's better for you to pretend to be mentally ill than to pretend to have amnesia.
"I'm speaking the truth," Klein responded frankly, looking at Mountbatten and the middle-aged police inspector.
It really could not be more true.
"Maybe it is," the gray-eyed police inspector said slowly.
What? He really believed it? Klein was surprised himself.
The gray-eyed inspector smiled. "An expert will come in two days, and believe me, she should be able to help you to recall your lost memories."
An Expert? Help me remember my memories? Klein frowned.
Hey, what if my memories of Earth are exposed? He suddenly felt like facepalming himself.
The young police inspector put down his notes and searched his desk and room. Fortunately, he focused on books.
"Well, Mr. Klein, thank you for your cooperation. We advise that you'd better not leave Tingen in the coming days. If you have to, please notify Inspector Mountbatten, or you'll become a fugitive," the police inspector warned.
That's it? That's it for today? No other questions with deeper investigations? Or taking me back to the police station for questioning? Klein was at a loss.
Nevertheless, he too wanted to solve the odd turn of events brought about by Welch.
"That wouldn't be an issue." Klein said.
The inspectors exited the room one by one. The young man at the end patted Klein on the shoulder. "It's really nice to be this lucky."
"Hmm?" Klein's face was puzzled.
The green-eyed police inspector with a poet's temperament smiled. "Generally speaking, the norm is for all the involved parties to die in such an event. We are very glad and fortunate to see you're still alive." He exited the room and closed the door behind him politely.
The norm is for everyone to die together? Very glad that I'm still alive? Fortunate that I'm still alive?
On this June afternoon, Klein was chilling all over.