Chapter 37: A Satisfying Surprise

Victor Black leaned back on the sofa in his living room, too exhausted to lift a finger. The consecutive crimes had drained him mentally, and he felt he needed a break. Fortunately, school would be out for summer vacation in two weeks, and he decided not to commit any more crimes until then.

Earlier, he had deliberately dropped hints to Sebastian, hoping the detective would piece things together. It was an open strategy—he had left behind the fingerprints, the twenty-year-old paint, and the lethal poison precisely so the police would investigate and see where those clues led.

As for how he would obtain the information from the police once they uncovered it, he hadn't figured that out yet, but he wasn't worried. He knew he'd find a way.

Among all his enemies, the one he wanted to kill the most was the mastermind behind his family's murder. But despite twenty years of investigation with his mentor, they still hadn't been able to identify that person. Victor knew this individual had to be incredibly powerful—otherwise, given his mentor's influence, they would have found them by now. After all, his mentor was no ordinary figure.

For now, Victor's plan was to continue his crimes, both to exact revenge and to escalate the situation, drawing more attention. He would wait for the police to follow the three clues and uncover the mastermind's identity. To maximize the impact, he planned his next move to be even more shocking—a triple murder that would shake London to its core and force the police to investigate the clues with all their resources. Only then could he hope to uncover the truth about the mastermind.

But all of that would have to wait until after summer break. He was simply too tired.

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**Noon, under the scorching sun.**

Mark Carter and Neil Baker trudged along a rural path, drenched in sweat and utterly dispirited. They had been in Black Town for a week, and after days of relentless investigation, they had nothing to show for it. It was frustrating, but not entirely unexpected.

The properties developed by Wilson Real Estate were still there, but the staff—both management and workers—had changed countless times over the years. There was no way they could find anything useful from them.

As for David Smith, he had lived in Black Town over two decades ago, but most of the people who had known him were either gone or dead. The few who remained barely remembered him, and the only thing they could recall was that he had been a local troublemaker. Beyond that, nothing.

Finally, the two detectives concluded that their only viable lead was Harriet Quint. Investigating John Wilson and David Smith seemed like a waste of time.

Today, they were heading to Harriet's hometown, a small village deep in the countryside. After hours of winding through mountain roads, they finally arrived, only to be met with disappointment.

The village was tiny, with only a dozen or so households, most of which were crumbling and abandoned. The few houses that remained intact had their doors and windows tightly shut, showing no signs of life.

As they knocked on doors, their suspicions were confirmed—the village was practically deserted.

Neil gave Mark a grim smile. "How are we supposed to investigate this?"

Mark chuckled dryly. "Maybe we should ask those graves over there. They might know something." He pointed to a cluster of graves on a nearby hillside.

"Damn it, this is hopeless!" Neil groaned.

"Let's head back. If we have to, we'll go door-to-door in town. I refuse to believe we'll find nothing."

"Yeah, that's all we can do."

Just as they were about to leave, an elderly man with a bamboo basket on his back appeared near the graves and began walking toward them. The two detectives immediately perked up and hurried over.

"Hello, sir!" Mark called out.

The old man squinted at them, then grinned, revealing a nearly toothless mouth. "What's that? My hearing's not so good. Speak up!"

"I said, hello, sir!" Mark repeated loudly.

"Oh, hello, hello!"

"Are you from this village?"

"No, I'm from the next village over. Why do you ask?"

"Do you know Harriet Quint?"

The old man tilted his head, as if deep in thought, and the detectives waited patiently. After a long pause, he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, you mean Kari granddaughter, right?"

Neil glanced at Mark, who quickly checked his notes and nodded. "Yes, that's her. Harriet's grandmother was Kari ."

The old man's expression softened. "Poor girl. Why are you asking about her? And who are you?"

The detectives explained they were police officers, and the old man's demeanor immediately changed. He began speaking faster, eager to help.

From him, they learned that Harriet had had a difficult life. Her mother had abandoned her shortly after she was born, and her father had left to work in the city when she was three, never to return. No one knew if he was dead or had started a new family elsewhere. Harriet had been raised by her elderly grandmother until she was fourteen, when she left to work in the city. She had only returned once, at eighteen, to arrange her grandmother's funeral. After that, she had disappeared again.

However, the old man mentioned that someone from his village had seen Harriet in Black Town many years ago.

Eager to follow this lead, the detectives rushed to the neighboring village and found the person in question. After some questioning, they confirmed that Harriet had indeed been seen in Black Town roughly twenty years ago, though the exact timing was hazy.

On their way back, the two detectives discussed their findings.

"If that person's telling the truth, then Harriet was in Black Town around twenty years ago. And David Smith was also in town around that time," Neil said.

Mark's eyes lit up. "If I remember correctly, Wilson Real Estate started gaining traction around the same period."

The two exchanged glances. "So, their paths must have crossed during that time."

Finally, they had a breakthrough. Energized, they headed back to Black Town, determined to dig deeper and uncover what had happened during that critical period.