Part 2 the faceless man chapter 159 the disappearance
After waiting for most of an hour to make sure that there were no unexpected situations, Klein and Emlyn White left Lawyer Jürgen’s house, and each of them, thinking of their own thoughts, traveled on in silence, and soon reached the outside of No. 15 Minsk Street.
The vampire Emlyn clenched his fist against his mouth and coughed lightly:
”The payment has been made, and I hope we will not have the opportunity to meet again.”
That’s a nice forced statement, but Mr. Wyatt, aren’t you forgetting something important? Klein smiled politely:
”I’ll be visiting Bishop Utrafsky occasionally, and I hope you won’t be at Harvest Church by then.
”Besides, I won’t have to be busy trying to help you find a solution to your mental insinuations.”
Emlyn White’s expression turned rather odd at once, and he fell silent for two seconds before raising his chin:
”We have many powerful occultists in the Blood Clan, I will write to them for help.”
After saying that, he pressed his hand against his chest and saluted in farewell.
Turning to walk a few steps, he suddenly slowed down, twisted his head, and hesitantly asked:
”What are you, what are you cooking?”
”Beef bone turnip soup, it needs to be served with rice and the kind of chili pepper that is a specialty of the Fenerbot Plateau.” Klein said with anticipation as he breathed in the scent wafting out of the house.
Emlyn frowned and shook her head:
”Chili is not in the realm of the Blood’s aesthetic.”
Frankly, I also have a hard time imagining a vampire who eats chili peppers, but of course, I occasionally fantasize about vampires with white buns, nibbling on garlic and scallions …… Klein belabored and pointed to the front door, signaling that he was about to enjoy his dinner.
Emlyn White considered this for a second, sinking his voice into a deliberate tone:
”I thought long and hard about this last night and realized that you didn’t really do anything, so why ask for payment? The old man’s going to let me go any day now.”
Klein gave a heave:
”No, it doesn’t work like that, your parents commissioned a mission to find you, not rescue you, and in the end, I was the one who found you, and according to the agreement, the payment rightfully belongs to me.
”Besides, without me reminding you, you might have had to spend weeks and months in the Harvest Church before you knew you were free to leave and couldn’t notice that you were being hinted at.”
”You’re insinuating my intelligence?” Emlyn’s face twisted.
No, it was explicitly …… Klein smiled and said no more, opening the door to himself and entering the house, heading straight for the kitchen, full of bright, tantalizing broths, white rice, soft but not chewy beef, marrow deep in the bones, radishes sweet and unctuous with meaty notes, and chopped Fenneport Highland peppers.
Into the fiery red fragments were sprinkled pink rose salt and green Byron long coriander leaves.
……
Early Thursday morning, as promised, Klein arrived at the cheap café on the East End.
Old Kohler, still wearing the thick jacket from before, was sitting in the corner, serving a strip of black bread with tea that he could barely taste.
Klein came across to him, took out something he had prepared long ago, and pushed it to the other man.
It was a provision consisting of two five-soule, four one-soule bills, and a handful of copper pennies purposely used for added effect.
Old Kohler looked straight at them for a moment before he stretched out his right hand and took it tremblingly.
He examined them repeatedly, raised his hand to wipe his eyes, and squeezed out a smile:
”At the wharf, we carry heavy goods and step in the cold, dirty water to do some troublesome cleaning, and it’s only about 1 soule a day ……”
And here it was a full 15 Soule!
Klein listened in silence for a few seconds before saying:
”Have you heard anything lately? What situations have been noted?”
Old Kohler put away his funds, took another sip of tea, and pinched the corners of his eyes:
”I’ve met a lot of dockworkers and reconnected with friends I used to know from my wanderings, some of them have gone into the factories and some of them are still going back and forth constantly between the Poorhouse and the Park Corner, heh, just like I used to ……
”Recently out of nowhere, a saying came out that if we believe in one of the seven gods, why don’t we just pray to that Creator at the source? It says that k is in everyone, in all things, and has not really passed away.
”Praying to k will give us salvation and not only will we enter the heavenly kingdom of k after death, but we will also be given a better life in life, for example, we won’t need to work so hard, and we will be able to have cream every day, and we will have samba steal na, every day.”
Is this …… a variant of the Creator theory that Aurora would spread? After what happened to Llanerus, they’re starting to pay attention to the poor people of the East End, Docklands, and East End, hoping to use them for some purpose? I wonder if the three main churches have noticed this phenomenon …… I think they have …… Klein sandwiched the butter between two slices of toast and took a bite without knowing what it tasted like.
Old Kohler rambled on for a while before saying:
”Mr. Detective, as you instructed, I had my eye on the women textile workers, and ultimately, with the addition of the police, their resistance failed, but, heck, the ones who led the charge became factory supervisors, and a third of them lost their jobs.
”Some of them are actively looking for new jobs, some have become streetwalkers, some have gone who knows where, and the whole East Side is in chaos.”
If this was the situation when “Hurricane Lieutenant General” Zylingus came to Bakerland, then if he came to the East End every day and quietly killed one or two people, no one would even be able to find out, no one would be able to pay attention to it …… Klein sighed in his heart.
Old Kohler continued to talk about some daily insights before saying:
”By the way, the youngest daughter of Liv’s family is missing.”
”Liv?” Klein confirmed that he hadn’t heard of the name.
The elder Kohler then said in a daze:
”That’s the berrywoman you and Mr. Reporter saw last time who had a fight with someone, she’s been bringing her oldest and youngest daughters with her to do the berrying in the house, but yesterday, one of her two daughters was lost on her way back from delivering clothes, the youngest, it’s really pathetic, she’s been a widow for a number of years, and she’s been counting on both of her daughters, and it turns out that . . ay, the police in the East End certainly don’t look too hard.”
There are often greater misfortunes in unfortunate people, because they do not have the ability to resist risks and change the circumstances in which they are …… Klein s mind suddenly flashed through such a paragraph.
He was stone silent for a few seconds and said:
”Take me to see them, I’m a detective, maybe I can help them find someone.”
”…… They don’t have any money.” Old Kohler cautioned.
Crane picked up his hat and cane and said:
”I volunteer occasionally.”
……
The Jorwood district, inside the house the two ladies had originally rented.
Hugh began his life as a bounty hunter again, while Forsyth accelerated the progress of his new book, hoping to save up enough money for the extraordinary materials needed for “Master Juggler” as soon as possible.
But you can’t write a book just because you want to. Forsyth scratched her hair in annoyance and decided to go for a walk to find inspiration.
As she walked, she found herself back in a familiar place without realizing it.
Diagonally in front of her was the Yusef Clinic, a rather large private practice where she had first worked.
After gazing at it for a while, Forsyth thought of the old woman who had led her into the transcendental world, and turned to the right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut to a nearby street.
This street was lined with sycamore trees with fallen leaves, and was a relatively quiet place.
Voorhees remembered that the old woman lived in the house at number 39 – back when she had occasionally come to the house to deliver medicines or injections, or even to help with some of the daily chores.
”It’s been almost three years now, that place should have been re-let, maybe it’s changed tenants a few times …… I remember coming to sort through the belongings at the time and finding quite a few notes recording occult insights …… “Forsyth walked under the sycamore trees, which had few leaves left, and slowly approached the house at number 39.
Gradually she was inspired to write something because of the memories of her past experiences.
Just then she saw an old man in a heavy tweed coat and a half-height black hat standing in front of the house at No. 39 and pulling the doorbell three times.
After a few minutes, no one ever opened the door, and the old man with the azure eyes shook his head and turned around, whispering suspiciously:
”Still no one ……”
He suddenly spotted Forsyth, who had stopped a short distance away and was looking this way, and busily stepped away and walked over, smiling gently and eagerly:
”Beautiful lady, do you live in this neighborhood? Do you know Raublo and Annelisa?”
Annelisa? Wasn’t that the old lady’s name? The house had no recent tenants? Forsyth weighed in:
”I don’t know if the Mrs. Annelisa I know is the one you’re looking for; she lived here, for a long time, but passed away three years ago.”
”Passed away three years ago? Where’s Laubero?” The old man, who had only some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, was busy pursuing the question.
”Her husband passed away before her.” Forsyth answered honestly.
The old man was stunned, and then he showed a sad expression.
He was silent for a moment and said:
”Thank you, kind lady.
”I am Lawboro’s brother, and have been living in the county of Mashai, and as I have not received a letter from them for too long, I have decided to come and see them.
”Will you tell me a little of what they went through in those years?”
Could Mrs. Annalisa’s husband’s brother …… be a descendant of the family she spoke of? Foerth responded with a sudden alertness and a smile:
”No problem.”
She thought quickly about what she could and could not say.
The old man pointed to the side and back and said:
”There’s a nice cafe there.”
……
Inside a slightly outdated apartment building, in the East End, Klein stepped into the damp room again.
He saw the feisty woman who had argued with the streetwalker last time, disdaining the other woman’s profession, standing in a pile of clothes, her face, which already had a number of wrinkles, had lost its glow, its laborious energy, and was lifeless.
And her eldest daughter, the seventeen or eighteen year old girl who had last squatted in front of the basin, slurping her clothes, sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing continually, saying:
”It’s me, it’s all my fault, I didn’t watch her ……
”I should not have taken her down the secluded alley.
”And she said she was going to learn a few more words in free school tonight ……
”It’s me, it’s all my fault ……”
Liv, the berrywoman, suddenly snapped back to her senses and turned her head to look at her oldest daughter, putting away her sad expression and saying fiercely:
”What are you crying for? Get up and wash your clothes!
”Do you want to go hungry? Do you want to be unable to go to free school?”
It was only after she had finished yelling that she saw Klein and Old Kohler right by the door.
”Old Kohler …… Who’s this?” She asked suspiciously.