It is certainly not ordinary people who have the money to buy tickets for VIP carriages, and the dissatisfaction of passengers has gradually reached its peak over time. The captain finally arrived before further rioting broke out, and he had some bad news for his passengers:
"Gentlemen and ladies, please be quiet."
He had to strain his throat to silence everyone.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to stay here for one night before we can continue our journey. Yes, there was an avalanche in the small valley ahead, and we had to make an emergency stop. I assure everyone that we will be here before eight o'clock tomorrow morning. We can take care of these troubles."
"The snow has just started to fall, how could there be an avalanche?"
An elderly lady with a hairnet asked in a shrill voice.
"Yes, ma'am. While we thought the snow only started at dinner time, that was hundreds of miles away. Believe me, it started snowing in this area at least last night!"
He had to explain the obvious things to the old man, and while he was talking, he took out the handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket to wipe off the sweat.
"But what about my business? I have to be in Chefordshire on Thursday!"
The middle-aged man standing at the back of the crowd shouted, and his complaint was echoed by a small group of people.
"Gentlemen, the Union Railroad will make up for you, it will!"
He repeated it over and over, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
In any case, it is an unchangeable fact that the train will stay overnight in the deserted snow field. But the fuel, drinking water and food carried by the steam train are very sufficient, and the heating in the compartments is also satisfactory, which finally calmed down the complaints of the passengers.
After being disturbed by this incident, Jenkins also felt sleepless. Coupled with the fact that Chocolate became excited again, becoming more like a nocturnal animal, he simply stopped lying back in bed, but came to the compartment where the restaurant was located with Mr. Adams Nellie, and chatted endlessly sky.
There are not a few passengers who have the same idea as them, and most of them get enough sleep during the boring journey during the day. Among the 8 boxes in the VIP car, only the old lady who questioned the avalanche went back to rest accompanied by the maid. Among the passengers in the remaining 7 boxes, four were in the restaurant, one was in the smoking room, and two walked down the stairs. Car to enjoy the snow.
The low mountains in the distance are hidden in the dark horizon in the snowy sky. Bright yellow lights filled the car, and Jenkins' face was reflected on the side glass. He turned his head and looked out of the car window. The snow was really like goose feathers. Holding the chocolate in her arms, she also put it on the table. Chocolate walked slowly to the window, her amber cat eyes looking at the darkness in the distance.
The conversation with Mr. Nelly, of course, inevitably shifted to the opera troupe in Nolan, and then the two talked about the playwright Mr. Pisco, who passed away this month.
Mr. Nelly and he are also very good friends. Although the two do not meet often, they often communicate through letters. When Mr. Pisco's funeral was held, the businessman happened to be entangled in a business in the Cheslan Kingdom, so he didn't arrive in Nolan City in time.
Mr. Nellie raved about Mr. Pisco's talent to Jenkins, calling him the greatest screenplay writer of our time. The cooperation between the two began twenty years ago, when the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe was just established.
"I'm really sad that Pisco is gone, he's been in great health…"
As he spoke, Mr. Nelly's eye circles turned red.
"Mortals are mortal, and Mr. Pisco just took a step ahead. Perhaps, the great gods also appreciated his talent, so they invited him to visit other places."
"You are so funny, are all fairy tale writers such optimistic people?"
Mr. Nelly rubbed his cheeks with his fingers, "Then I hope Pisco can live happily in another world."
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Jenkins also asked him about the former leader of the superhuman bandit. Although Mr. Nellie knew a lot about him, he was only from the perspective of an ordinary person. Shelley Howell's background and past experiences were similar to those found by the church at this stage of investigation, but these were obviously illusions.
An hour after the conversation began, the topic shifted to literature, and Jenkins naturally expressed his views in his familiar field:
"Is our scene now very similar to those of ordinary detective novels? A group of fixed people are confined in a fixed area. This setting allows the protagonist of the detective to detain the suspect in a fixed number of people, It also prevents the suspect from escaping or more people getting involved. In fact, this is something that is difficult for detectives to encounter in reality."
"You're right, this is indeed a very good scene."
Mr. Nelly thought for a while, then nodded in agreement: "Is this also the usual way of writing detective novels?"
"Although I am also a writer, I don't know much about detective novels."
He was modest, and then said: "But this kind of criminal environment where no one can get in touch with the outside world due to special circumstances, and everyone can't leave for the time being, as well as strange things and the bizarre deaths of several members one after another, are indeed attractive. A way of writing that interests the reader."
"From what you've said, I kind of want to read some detective novels. It's really interesting."
Mr. Nellie continued, admiringly, with his fingers on the handle of his teacup.
"The murderer is limited to a limited number of people, and the detective conducts a limited search and reasoning under such circumstances. This is definitely the most classic plot, and it is also the plot that can best exert the exciting ability of detective novels."
Jenkins recalled the wonderful stories he had read, and took a sip from the teacup in front of him. Seeing Chocolate turn his head back, he pushed the teacup towards his cat, and Chocolate turned his head in disgust.
"Oh, Baron William, are you going to write a detective novel for your next book? I'm really looking forward to such a story."
It was not Mr. Nellie, who sat across the table, but another gentleman at another table who overheard the conversation. He excitedly said to Jenkins:
"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two of you, but the kind of story you describe is really fascinating! I'm also a lover of detective novels, but I haven't found any writer who realizes That's what you said. Yes, such a detective story will definitely cause a great sensation."