Detective Ignaz stood up and announced to everyone: "Mr. Williams' words are also very reasonable. Maybe people from outside the house have invaded here. Please rest assured."
He walked back and forth a few steps, his black leather shoes stepping on the wooden floor at the edge of the carpet, making a pattering sound.
"But there are still some issues that need to be confirmed. If we can find the murderer before the police gentlemen arrive, I think everyone can avoid some trouble."
"Mr. Detective, do you already know who the murderer is?"
Jenkins asked immediately, and Ignaz nodded to him, "Yes, I have already made a preliminary judgment. Now I need to check some items that everyone is carrying, is it okay?"
Of course, no one will question that ordinary people have a very bad impression of the police station. If the detectives can find decisive evidence before the police arrive, the perpetrators will be punished severely and the innocent will not be implicated.
Jenkins could tell there was nothing aura-like about the maid, so the detective's investigation was futile. But since everyone was rummaging through their pockets, he couldn't shirk it.
There are a few emergency charms in the pocket of the coat. To ordinary people, these are just metal pieces with regular shapes. But hide as much as you can, safety first.
He subconsciously looked down at the chocolate in his pocket, reached out to it, and patted it lightly. The cat immediately became noisy with dissatisfaction. Mr. Detective saw that Jenkins was busy teasing the cat, and he was indeed not suspected, so he didn't ask to check his belongings.
After confirming that there was nothing suspicious on the maids, the detective asked Jenkins to testify and took out the items he was carrying. When Jenkins was searching his body, he accidentally touched a metal-like thing on his waist covered by his coat, which should be a pistol. He pouted, pretending not to touch it.
Since the detective let him search at ease, he should have a gun license. But it's best not to take this thing out now, otherwise the maids will definitely collapse.
After checking each other, Detective Ignaz suggested that everyone go to the kitchen to have a look. The kitchen is not far from this room, as long as all the windows and doors here are locked, there is no need to worry about someone destroying the scene.
As for the key, of course it was temporarily kept by Jenkins, who was the least suspicious.
The kitchen area is not large, but it is tidy. The maid with freckles and an apron desperately explained to everyone how she prepared the snacks and drinks in order to get rid of her suspicions.
Ignaz listened carefully to her words, and checked the other wine bottles bought together with the wine in the study. The villa doesn't have a dedicated wine cellar, but fortunately it's autumn, so you don't have to worry about breaking it if you buy more.
There can't be any discoveries here, at least Jenkins didn't find aura poisons. The toxin was supposed to come from something with such a faint aura that Jenkins couldn't see anything through the walls.
It seems that Ignaz should not have hope here. Although he pretended to check carefully, he would covertly observe Miss Joyce's expression.
Joyce was the maid who followed Mrs. David to Papa's antique shop. From this, it can be seen that she is the lady's personal maid.
According to the general habit, she should be responsible for removing makeup and changing clothes.
"Did Detective Ignaz also deduce that it was her?"
Jenkins was a little surprised. He deduced the answer directly from the result, so it was so easy to think of the truth. But the detective has no clues. Could it be that the man in front of him is the so-called famous detective
No abnormalities were found in the kitchen, and seeing the police gentlemen coming, Detective Ignaz finally asked the key question:
"Ladies, I want to know, what did Mrs. Davide do when she came back, while Mr. Williamett and Miss Best went upstairs and I waited in the study? What were you all doing?"
The freckled maid rubbed her hands in embarrassment: "I have been preparing in the kitchen. Apart from the snacks and wine, there is also afternoon tea... Ever since the death of the husband, the madam has not had a good appetite. She probably didn't eat lunch, so I I prepared snacks for afternoon tea in advance."
The detective nodded, with a smile on his face, he put his hat on his head, and then asked the maid Joyce: "Then what is Mrs. David doing?"
"Madam is arranging clothes in the room... Oh, Mr. Ignaz, this is Madam's privacy, please respect the deceased."
Jenkins stood watching the scene, and the results were already evident. What he wondered now was what the motive was, and what that poison was.
"Hopefully it doesn't involve a cult or any other crazy organization."
Even so, she was just an ordinary maid. Even if fate loves to play tricks, it is impossible for anyone to have a big conspiracy.
"I think the best way to honor the dead is to find whoever killed her."
Ignaz spoke in a very polite tone and said unceremonious words. He took a step to the side, just in front of the only door to the kitchen.
"Miss Joyce, please tell me now. In which room did you take off your make-up and change your clothes after Mrs. Davide returned home and before entering the study?"
"On the second floor, turn left to the first room."
She didn't say anything else, but raised her head and pursed her thin lips, looking into the detective's eyes and telling the truth.
Ignaz nodded and motioned for everyone to take a look. He winked at Jenkins, who froze, then blinked to show he didn't understand.
"Mr. Williams came last."
He sighed at Jenkins's dullness, but he realized that it was normal for a young shop apprentice after all.
Jenkins, who has excellent acting skills, once again successfully deceived strangers.
The first room on the second floor is a bedroom, but judging from the decoration style and furniture arrangement inside, this is not the master bedroom.
I didn't pay attention to the weird oil painting on the head of the bed and the frighteningly large chandelier above my head. Jenkins narrowed his eyes and looked at the small bottle in front of the dresser.
Among them, there is a bottle that is only as thick as a thumb, translucent, and intricate petal-like patterns are carved on the body of the bottle. Judging by the current glass firing technology, the artistic value of this bottle alone is greater than the single value of more than half of the antiques in the next room.
The faintly visible liquid in the bottle, showing a faint green luster, is this thing.