“Well, it’s the alcohol that worries me.
Dust can be removed with a blower, but alcohol is more troublesome.
You have to go to the scene to see the specific situation.”
Jobtran scratched his head and explained.
“But I remembered you said the warehouse should be a confined space
If you use a blower, wouldn't it spread the dust more evenly?"
Sif asked in confusion.
“Confined space is a relative concept, and there are several ways to solve the situation we are facing now.
The first is to reduce the dust density in the space, the second is to improve the air flow in the space, and the third is to expand the scope of the space.
When you were in the captain's room, you didn't have a chance to take a good look at the hull structure diagram.
The structural drawings clearly indicate that there is a window at the back of the restaurant warehouse for ventilation.
At that time, you just need to open the window at the back, and then use a blower to blow air into the keyhole to blow out the flour in the air.
This will break the so-called confined space.”
Jobtran told Sif the information he obtained in the captain's room and his own analysis to clear up his confusion.
The two walked through the long corridor and spiral stairs and arrived at the food warehouse at the back of the restaurant.
The lighting here is dim, but you can still see the rust spots on the warehouse door.
The metal on the door handle was shiny, obviously polished from being touched by people coming in and out frequently.
Joe Butran squatted at the door and squinted his eyes to look into the keyhole.
Through the narrow keyhole, you can see a suspicious round red dot at the end.
"Sif, remember the match that old Gary gave me to light my cigarette?"
Jobtran asked softly.
"Well, from a crumpled matchbox, it looks like there aren't many left. What's wrong?"
Sif asked.
"Come and take a look. Does this look like the head of a match?"
Jobtron moved aside slightly to allow Sif to take a look.
"Yes, it does look like a match, but what good is a match at the end of a keyhole?"
Sif tilted her head, unable to understand why old Gary would want a match here.
"By turning the key and using the end of the key to activate the device that lights the match, it will turn into a sea of fire and blow us to pieces.
Do you understand now why you can't use the key to open the door in advance?"
After that, Jobtran put the blower on the ground.
"Wait for me here."
He went around to the back of the warehouse and climbed up a few stacked boxes.
There was a closed window there. This type of window was designed to open from the bottom up, so it was a bit difficult to pry it open from the outside.
The window was only about 50 centimeters wide and 30 centimeters long, not enough for an adult like Jobtran to get in.
Jobtran did not rashly use violence to open the window. He had learned to be cautious from past experiences of blood and tears.
He first looked in the window and saw Aldridge hanging upside down from a beam.
It was like being in a thick fog inside, filled with smoke.
The flour bags stacked inside the warehouse were cut open one by one with a knife, and flour flowed out from the cuts onto the ground like a small waterfall.
The flour on the ground slowly piled up into small hills, but the flour floating in the air increased.
In addition to flour, meat and fresh vegetables are kept in another cold storage.
On the left side of the warehouse are rows of wine barrels and wine racks, with bottles of spirits stacked randomly on the shelves.
Aldridge looked to have been severely beaten, and his body was covered with scars and he looked like he was dying.
Jobtran knocked twice on the window glass, and Aldridge opened his eyes with difficulty.
"Who? Ahem. Who's there? Help me."
Aldridge's lips were pale and his voice was low and hoarse. It was obviously not easy for him to be tied up here for a day and a night.
The flour in the air made his breathing even more difficult. Aldridge's nose and throat were itchy and he could only cough to relieve the pain.
"Don't move, don't struggle. I'm Joe Butran, I'll find a way to get you out."
Joe Butran said through the window.
"Okay. Ahem. Hurry up, I feel like I can't hold on any longer."
Aldrich said weakly.
"If you hear a noise later, remember to close your eyes and hold your breath."
Jobtran did not explain too much to Aldridge because he knew that if Aldridge knew that he was in danger, he might twist his body wildly and then fall from the height.
Aldridge nodded slightly without further investigation.
Jobtran took a look at the structure inside the window in the dim light.
He saw that the window handle was tied with an inconspicuous rope, and at the end of the rope was a crudely made device.
A match was fixed to the end of a rope, and a path of flour was carefully laid on the ground. As long as the window was opened, the match would rub against the ground, thus igniting the entire warehouse.
This setting was very insidious, as if it was expected that Jobtran would come to open the window.
"Old Gary, you can do it, but you seem to have forgotten that I am a person who never plays by the rules."
Joe Butran couldn't help but praise the suspect in this serial murder case, Old Gary.
He jumped down from the box and grabbed a broom nearby.
"As long as it's a glass window, why should I go to all the trouble of opening it?"
He swung the end of the broom and slammed it against the glass.
After being hit for more than a dozen times, cracks began to appear on the glass, and then it fell to the ground with a shattering sound.
After doing all this, Jobtran returned to the door.
Sif squatted there boredly studying the portable blower. She could blow out a fresh breeze by gently shaking the handle of the blower. She was having so much fun that she didn't notice that Jobtran had returned.
"It seems you already know how to use it?"
Jobtran patted Sif's shoulder and said with a smile.
"Oh, you gave me a fright. It can kill people if they scare others."
Sif rolled her eyes and handed the blower to Jobtron.
"Here. Just give this handle a good shake."
Sif said, pointing to the handle on the blower.
"If we continue to shake it this way, it won't be over until tomorrow."
Joe Butran said with a smile.
"ha?"
"The entire warehouse is ten meters long, and if you shake it like this, all the wind will hit the door and bounce back.
Do you think it’s effective?”
Jobtran glanced at the teased Sif, then turned his head away, trying hard to suppress his smile.
"Ahh, seeing you like this, I feel like giving you a beating!
Please fix this problem. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.”
Sif looked at the evil-minded Jobtran plaintively and complained.
"Can I borrow your hairband?"
Jobtron came close to Sif and gently took off her hairband.
The masculine scent that was instantly close to her made Sif blush, but she opened her eyes and looked at Jobtran's face.
Every stubble of his beard was clearly visible, and Sif almost wanted to stand on tiptoe and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, but she knew that now was not the time to do that.
The opportunity was fleeting, and Joe Butran had already taken two steps back and walked back to the door.
Although Sif was a little disappointed, she still watched Jobtran's current actions silently.
Jobtran tied a hair tie tightly around the air outlet at the end of the blower and picked up a long rubber hose used to clean the corridor from the ground nearby.
Use a small knife to cut gently, cut off a small section of the long tube, and connect it to the air outlet.
"Sif. Sif?"
Jobtran called out softly, and seeing that Sif seemed distracted, he called out again.
“Hey.”
"Help me hold down this pipe while we push it under the door."
"Oh, okay."
The two of them began to get busy. Of course, they would not let a lady do such a thing as shaking the handle frantically. After ten minutes or so, Joe Butran was sweating profusely.
"Eh? Why don't we use a thin tube to blow air in through the keyhole?"
Sif suddenly remembered this question.
“First, there’s a match inside, and it would be very troublesome if it caught fire spontaneously, since matches are made of sulfur and yellow phosphorus.
Second, the flour on the ground can be blown into the corner through the door gap, and the keyhole is too small, so the wind force will be greatly reduced. "
After saying this, Joe Butran wiped his sweat and walked to the window behind the warehouse to check again.
White specks of stars could be seen on the boxes near the window; the flour had apparently drifted from the window.
The air in the warehouse was no longer so turbid, and Aldridge stopped coughing.
"Hey, bro, hold on a little longer."
Joe Butron called out to Aldridge.
"I have a headache, better hurry up."
Aldridge replied painfully.
"rest assured."
Seeing that the situation in the warehouse was relatively optimistic, Jobtran returned to the door of the warehouse, took out the key and opened the door.
As the doorknob turned, the match behind the door moved towards the yellow phosphorus paper stuck behind the door, lighting up a small orange flame.
Joe Butran pushed the door open and walked in. He saw the match gradually going out behind the door and smiled.
He used a knife to gently cut off the match head, and the still burning match head fell to the ground. Jobtran stepped on it and rolled it back and forth with his shoes, and the flame went out.
“There are no such things as locked-room murders, only well-planned perfect crimes.
Old Gary was very clever, but he missed a step."
Joe Butron said softly and walked over to Aldridge.
He took out two boxes to use as steps, and asked Sif to go up and untie Aldrich, while he stood below ready to catch Aldrich's body.
Just in case, Jobtran placed two flour bags under Aldridge as a cushion.
As the rope was untied, Aldridge's body fell from the air. Joe Butran caught his body and said softly,
"I told you I'd come get you, man."
"Ahem, thank you."
"Can you walk?"
"Then you have to be my third leg. My feet are numb now."
"...I can't carry you by myself, Sif, come and give me a hand."
The two men supported the weak Aldridge and slowly left the scene that was once fraught with danger.
——
"Oh my god, you did it."
Paul exclaimed, then stepped forward to help the rescued Aldridge.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
Professor Robert frowned and asked with some displeasure,
"I feel like a pawn being manipulated by you, Mr. Jobtran."
"No, I never meant to manipulate you. On the contrary, I have many questions that I want to discuss with you in depth. But Professor, don't you think we should deal with our prisoner now?"
Joe Butron supported Aldridge and gently leaned him against the soft sofa.
"Could you give me a glass of water and some delicious bread before we start this discussion?"
Aldridge rolled his eyes and said helplessly,
"I haven't eaten or drunk anything for a day and a night."
Except for old Gary, who was tied to a chair and had a gloomy face, everyone looked at each other and laughed.
"A lot of blood is flowing to your head from the front, so you can't eat too much at once.
Also, man, you should lose some weight.
It’s damn heavy!”
Joe Butran poured a few cups of warm water and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa for everyone to drink, and joked.
"How did you do that?"
Old Gary lowered his head and looked at Joe Butron with his scarlet eyes.
His words broke the joyful and funny atmosphere in the room.
"Old Gary, don't you think this is all too coincidental?"
Jobtran held the water glass and rubbed his fingers gently along the edge of the glass.
"From the moment I stepped into the security room, you used your so-called drunken ramblings to lead me to understand the legend of the mermaid on the Cyclopes.
Isn't that right? "
"Is that when you started to doubt me?"
“Yes and no.
After a day of hard work, it is normal to drink some wine, but there is sleeping pills in everyone's wine. Why can you stay awake
Sif, take out the contents of the paper bag and show them to everyone."
"Oh, okay."
After hearing this, Sif poured the things in the paper bag that she had found from the secret compartment under old Gary's bed onto the coffee table.
Jobtran picked up the empty brown medicine bottle on the coffee table. The label on it read triazolam.
“Triazolam, a benzodiazepine sedative-hypnotic, can take effect within one to two hours.
Tell me, why do you have so many controlled prescription drugs
Let me guess, you mixed the pills in some booze and distributed them to your guys, which gave you time to commit the crime.
After you have committed the crime, all you have to do is grab a bottle of un-drugated wine, take a few sips, and lie down on the bed, and you will have an almost perfect alibi.
Am I right?"
"Then how do you explain my motive for committing the crime?"
Old Gary looked at Joe Butran with admiration and continued to ask.
"Wait a minute, did you really do this? Old Gary?! The captain and I have always been very nice to you, why would you do such a thing?"
Aldrich asked angrily.
"Well, you have indeed been very kind to me, but if I want to kill you, does it have anything to do with how you treat me?"
After Old Gary finished speaking, a weird smile appeared on his face.
"From the beginning to the end, I came to this ship just to kill you."
Note 1: Wikipedia - Triazolam