Chapter 33 The Truth

"In conclusion, Mr. Barton, or rather... Mr. John Lovecraft's motive is now clear." Feng Bujue looked at Jack and Nancy and said, "Your brother's temperament, ability, and experience are stronger than the sum of you two and Dennis. In his twenties, he was already a skilled thief. After ten years in prison, he has undoubtedly become an even more ruthless person."

"Now, he is patient, resolute, and secretive. When such a person is determined to kill, his execution is amazing. What an ordinary person would take at least a few days to prepare and hesitate over, he can do immediately."

"So... before even coming down from the tree, Mr. Barton had already acted. He immediately used the wire cutters in his hand to cut off a piece of wire tied to the tree branch (a common method in landscaping to make trees grow in a predetermined shape), which was the murder weapon, and took it with him back to the house."

Feng Bujue leaned back in his chair and looked up. "After the shooting incident, Barton seized the opportunity when Dennis was alone in his room and knocked on the door. Dennis didn't know that the previous threatening conversation had been overheard; he thought Barton was still in the dark. And Barton naturally pretended to know nothing, only saying that he was going into the room to do some chores, such as removing insects from the potted plants in the corner."

"In that case... even if Mr. Barton was wearing gloves when he entered the room, Dennis wouldn't have found it strange," Schofield interjected. This detective, who had accompanied Brother Jue throughout the investigation and reasoning, still had some investigative ability; at least he hadn't forgotten these details in the case.

"Very correct, Detective," Feng Bujue nodded. "Thus, there was... Dennis smoking on the sofa chair, while Barton was busy in his blind spot. But... the next scene was a murder." He looked at Barton. "Just as you just stood up silently, trying to approach me... at the time of the incident, you quietly and quickly approached Dennis from behind and strangled him with the murder weapon from your pocket."

"Originally, everything was going smoothly, but just as you were about to escape, someone knocked on the room door."

"Mrs. Odetta was worried that the focus of the argument between her husband and Dennis was because of her, so she wanted to talk to the latter. She didn't know that a murder had just happened in the guest room."

"Hmph..." Feng Bujue sneered and continued to say to Barton, "As I have been emphasizing, you are not an ordinary person, Mr. Barton; you are very powerful. An ordinary person might panic in this situation, but you... are as calm as ever and have a plan."

"At that time, the guest room door was locked; you were not worried that Odetta would discover you. You just had to remain silent and escape calmly from the window. But for you, that was not enough... Since a murder had occurred, there must be a murderer, and Mrs. Odetta was the perfect scapegoat."

"She had a motive and the ability to commit the crime. The key is... she was indeed at the scene when the murder occurred."

Feng Bujue tilted his head and smiled. "I remember every word you said, Mr. Barton..." He repeated, "'I'm about the same age as young master Dennis; I actually understand him quite well. If I also had a wealthy father and wanted to marry a stepmother who was five or six years younger than me, I would also object.'" He smiled again. "Obviously, you said this with feeling. You came to this mansion eight years ago, and Mrs. Odetta married into the Lovecraft family seven years ago. I think... back then, your attitude was probably the same as Dennis's; you both strongly opposed your father marrying Odetta, but one was in the open and the other was in the dark."

"There is no doubt that you wanted Korston's inheritance more than Dennis, didn't you? Because he owed you, his ungratefulness killed your mother, and his alienation and denial of you led you astray. Even though you finally came to this house many years later, it was still as a gardener, not as the master here."

"So... at least after he died, let him use his family property to repay you."

"Now that Dennis is dead, if Mrs. Odetta is convicted of murder... then in a few years, when Korston kicks the bucket and the contents of the will are made public... you, John Lovecraft, can rightfully inherit the vast majority of his estate and become the head of this family."

"What a dangerous fellow..." Schofield couldn't help but turn his head and stare at Barton's face as he muttered to himself.

Feng Bujue turned his head and said to everyone, "Therefore... Mr. Barton didn't plan to escape from the window; it was only because there was someone outside the door that he came up with the idea on the spur of the moment. He locked the window with wire and arranged it as a locked room in order to leave a backhand. Because he knew that a case like this would be difficult for the police force of a small local town to solve in the short term. As long as he temporarily confused the public, there would be plenty of opportunities to frame someone later. For example, making a copy of the key and throwing it in the corner of Mrs. Odetta's room... this would be easy for him to do."

Brother Jue paused for a moment, then continued, "After killing the person, Barton disposed of the murder weapon and quickly returned to the villa. If it were someone else, they would probably return to their room and wait anxiously for the body to be discovered. But he... came to my room as quickly as possible and cleverly put on a rather interesting performance in front of me."

"That speech was half-true and half-false and was quite deceptive. The only thing I couldn't figure out at the time was... what was the point of him telling me all this? Was it really to get me, an outsider, to persuade this family not to do anything stupid?"

"But not long after the incident, I understood his intention... Barton was subtly instilling a point of view into my mind before the body was discovered: 'If anyone would kill Dennis, it would definitely be Mrs. Odetta.' He was indeed very clever, because when he fabricated Korston and Dennis's conversation, he made it sound like Dennis was going to kill Odetta. The actual situation was the opposite, but it seemed logical."

"Heh..." Feng Bujue sneered and turned his gaze to Barton again. "Because I said in the hallway, 'I'm a detective, after all,' you made a special trip after committing the crime. Your idea was... even if your remarks couldn't mislead, it wouldn't matter. Anyway, you were with me, the detective, when the body was discovered. Psychologically speaking, I would very likely rule you out as a suspect."

"Hoo..." Barton sighed deeply. "Looking back now, coming to you... was a huge mistake." He said with a bitter smile, "I underestimated you..."

"Judging from your life experience, you must think highly of yourself; you wouldn't take ordinary detectives seriously at all," Feng Bujue said with a raised corner of his mouth. "Using this so-called detective to achieve your goals in reverse... such an ironic and interesting thing; if it were me, I would try it too."

Brother Jue said this, stood up, and stretched. "Actually, if you had changed the date and used a different method to make it look like a suicide or an accident, it might have worked." He yawned. "I really want to say to you, 'Keep up the good work in the future,' but this is first-degree murder, and you're a repeat offender, so even if you're not sentenced to death, you'll never have a chance to get out in this lifetime... I can only offer my most sincere wishes that you will succeed in breaking out of prison one day."

"Uh... Mr. Feng, the police are here; saying 'succeed in breaking out of prison' so directly..." Schofield wiped his sweat and advised.

"I only said breaking out of prison, and you immediately responded..." Feng Bujue said, "Are you forcing me to make fun of your name (Schofield)?"

After Feng Bujue casually said this, he walked towards Barton without warning and whispered something in his ear.

No one heard what Brother Jue said except for Barton. After speaking, Feng Bujue turned and walked towards the door, laughing as he walked... a malicious laugh...

"Where are you going?" Jack asked.

"Am I not allowed to go to the bathroom?" Feng Bujue asked with a slanted posture and arrogant tone, "If there's anyone who wants to arrest me for theft when I come back, put the handcuffs on me again."

Of course, Brother Jue wasn't really going to the bathroom; he had heard the system notification and was preparing to find a deserted place to teleport.

...

It was another late autumn; the gray wilderness had no trace of green left and was exposed bare under the sky.

In this place where valleys and rolling hills intertwined, the highway and telephone poles seemed out of place.

My name is Schofield, Greg Schofield, a sheriff in a remote town.

The bright moonlight slowly sprinkled on the earth, illuminating my way forward. Driving through such a landscape always evokes some memories.

At this time of year several years ago, I came to the Lovecraft mansion in these mountains to deal with a murder case.

There was a detective who solved the mystery and found the real culprit in less than half a day.

Strangely, I mistakenly identified him as another famous detective at the time, but later when I saw the photo of that famous detective in the newspaper, I found that they were not the same person...

Later, reports about this murder case did not appear in any mainstream media. Even Dennis Lovecraft's obituary was not published in any newspaper. It seems... some big shots stepped in and quietly suppressed the matter.

In April of the following year, John Barton, that is, John Lovecraft, was sentenced to death by the Supreme Court. And his father, Korston, died suddenly in a hotel room two weeks before the sentencing.

The cause of death remains a mystery to this day...

In the end, eight out of ten parts of the Lovecraft family's property were divided equally between the second son, Jack, and the third daughter, Nancy. I heard that Jack used his money to open a large record company in the United States; their advertising slogan is intriguing—to support young, aspiring musicians as their own responsibility.

The remaining two parts of the property, as well as the real estate, were inherited by Korston's third wife, Mrs. Odetta. That lady donated the mountain property to the government after her husband's death; it is said that she has now moved to a winery in southeastern France to settle down.

And Henderson, the butler who had served the Lovecraft family for many years, Powell, the family doctor, Oliver, the maid, Martha, including the lawyer who handled the will, did not get a single penny. Obviously, my judgment that Korston was "quite humane" was wrong; he was just a selfish, hypocritical bastard. Fortunately, his daughter did not inherit his bad qualities. A month after her father's death, Miss Nancy voluntarily gave these people a severance payment that they deserved as a gift.

As for that eccentric detective... I never saw him again. The back view of him walking out of the restaurant that day is still vivid in my mind, but he seemed to have disappeared at the corner outside the door and never came back.

Afterward, I also tried to inquire about information about this person, but to no avail; he was like a ghost, not existing in this world at all...

There have been many strange and bizarre legends on this land in front of me. Perhaps... he is one of them.

...

March 1986, Yassari capital, Lane City First Correctional Facility.

On a gloomy afternoon, Barton, wearing prison clothes and handcuffs and shackles, was taken to the visiting room by a prison guard. Across the glass in front of him sat a luxuriously dressed woman.

The two each picked up the phone on their side, were silent for a few seconds, and then Barton spoke first, "Long time no see, Carol."

Carol did not respond; she was wearing a very large hat, pressing the brim very low, and there was a layer of veil in front of the brim.

"It seems you've found out... hmph... you should understand now why I said 'you will thank me'," Barton sneered. "In a sense, he's really like Korston. I investigated him several years ago, and I knew then that he would kill you, the pathetic woman, sooner or later, and fly away with his lover, using the family property inherited from you." Barton said in a deep voice, "Even if not for myself... killing that kind of man, I don't regret it at all."

"The things you confessed..." Carol's voice was also cold; she was like a walking corpse, "Someone has already gone to do it, and there will be results soon."

"Heh... thank you," Barton said with a smile.

"Is it really necessary to go to this extent?" Carol asked, "He is still your father after all, and with his physical condition, he wouldn't have lived for a few more years anyway, right?"

"That's none of your business." Barton said this and suddenly laughed, "You are a very good person, Carol. Some things, people like you will never understand..." He paused for a moment. "But there are also some people who are not so kind, and they will say, 'Since you can't enjoy his property as compensation, then it's better to let him pay something else'."

After Barton said this, he hung up the microphone and laughed maniacally.