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At night, at eight o'clock, in the restaurant of the villa.
Except for the maid Oliver, all the other suspects were seated on both sides of a long table. Police officer Dunpudi was standing by the door of the restaurant. His posture seemed casual, but he was actually closely monitoring everyone in the room.
The atmosphere in the restaurant was very depressing, and there were very few conversations. Everyone sat there, thinking about what was on their minds. Of course, this is also a normal phenomenon... Just under this roof, a brutal murder took place not long ago. Except for Feng Bujue, who can maintain a good mood.
"The moonlight tonight is so beautiful, isn't it?" Feng Bujue's figure appeared at the door, attracting everyone's attention. He looked very excited, as if he was sending a signal to everyone, implying that he had found the real culprit.
But... due to his previous performances, the Lovecraft family didn't have a good impression of this Mr. Detective. Although this guy's reasoning is clear, convincing, vivid, and true... But in the final analysis, his messy slanderous words all have very obvious loopholes, and ordinary people can see through them at a glance. The kind of loophole that can be refuted.
"It's a pity that there is no mold, otherwise I will make a batch of mooncakes for dessert." Feng Bujue walked towards the dining table as he said, with a large paper bag he got from nowhere under his arm, which seemed to contain A lot of things.
Aunt Oliver pushed a small cart and followed Brother Jue into the restaurant. The trolley has three floors, and it is already full of dishes at this time.
"Your kitchen here is really good, Mr. Lovecraft." Feng Bujue sat down directly opposite the owner, and casually put the paper bag in his hand under his chair, "I have been to some so-called "High-end restaurants" have luxurious facades, luxurious dining environments, luxurious tableware, and luxurious prices. But the kitchen is a mess... full of buzzing, wriggling invertebrates, and the chefs who cook are probably undercover agents sent by those animals to humans, because their only talent is to cook with their hands. Disgusting dark matter. "
"If you want to use a compliment as a way to start the conversation..." Colston looked at Brother Jue coldly and replied. "Just the first sentence is enough. There is no need to take the opportunity to share with us your unpleasant past experience."
While they were talking, Oliver had pushed the cart to the dining table. Because the tableware had been set in advance, she started serving the dishes right now.
Seeing this, Henderson stood up from the chair and walked towards the cart: "Let me help you, Oliver."
"No, sit down, Henderson." Jack quickly got up and walked over, pushing the old butler back on the chair. "Let me do it." The second young master was kind to the servants at home, and he was ashamed to let the old man who fainted only once in the afternoon help serve the dishes.
Not long after, a plate of appetizers was placed in front of everyone.
Feng Bujue obviously didn't intend to be polite to this family. Instead of getting up to help, he grabbed the half bottle of red wine in the middle of the dining table and poured himself a glass.
"Hmm... domane_de_trevallon, 1985..." Feng Bujue only took a sip before picking up the bottle to look at the body. "Heh... Life is full of surprises." He's earned his mouthful. In real life, this bottle of red wine might be able to exchange him for a game cabin...
"Why? Do you know that winery too?" Madame Odetta said, "My lord likes it very much too. Every year we place an order there."
"Ah... I know, I know." Feng Bujue shrugged, "It's just... my economic conditions don't allow me to spend in bulk every year in well-known wineries in southeastern France... I'm afraid the only commodities I can stock up in bulk are Toilet paper and carbonated drinks."
"Oliver..." Miss Nancy on the other side of the table suddenly asked, "Did you cook this dish?" She looked at the things on the plate in front of her. There was a little doubt on his face.
"No, today's dishes are all made by this Mr. Feng." Oliver replied, and then pushed the cart to go to the kitchen to get soup. On weekdays. She, Barton and Henderson dined separately from the master and madam. And Dr. Powell's home is in the small town, and he usually goes back before evening. Therefore, it is rare for more than a dozen people to gather at one table for dinner like today.
"Oh?" Nancy turned her head and said to Feng Bujue, "I really can't see... You still have this skill, this char-grilled asparagus with salmon roe is already a professional level, right? Compared to a detective, I think you are more suitable to be a detective a cook."
While others were talking, Feng Bujue was adding red wine to his goblet. It seemed that he was not going to hand over the bottle to anyone before he finished drinking it. What kind of."
"Hmph... the cooking is good, and you'll have to eat until you're old." Jack stuffed a piece of asparagus into his mouth, and judging by his attitude, it was obvious that he wanted to find fault.
"You have my booger on that plate." Feng Bujue only spoke for a second before calmly uttering a very lethal sentence.
Jack's expression changed abruptly, coughing and choking, choking half to death.
"Hehe... just kidding." Feng Bujue said after two seconds, "The plates are randomly placed on the cart, and you assigned them yourself. How is this possible?"
"You..." Jack wanted to curse a little bit, but at this table... there were elders and ladies. It was really difficult for him to have an attack, so he could only wipe his mouth with a napkin and swallow his anger.
"Look, my analytical ability is quite convincing." Feng Bujue laughed.
"Okay, Mr. Feng." Colston said, "Let's end the gag." He stared at Brother Jue, "You let the police restrict our [freedom] and claim that you know the murderer is Who, but you still refuse to say it.” He breathed out, “Odetta said that you went to help in the kitchen more than an hour ago, I thought you were just asking her and Oliver for the reason of helping, I didn't expect you to really cook... What do you want to do?"
"Hehe... what do you want to do?" Feng Bujue picked up the knife and fork and began to destroy the appetizer in front of him, "You are asking the question knowingly, Mr. Lovecraft." Showing the food in his mouth, "Everyone here... isn't looking forward to a reasoning show? Ha... Don't worry, the famous detective Feng Bujue will not let you down, I will present a good show now." (
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