The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 802 Ch.801 Trombonist Ruby

"I'll give you two pounds as a hush money first. For Ms. Fonseca's sake, I'll keep my word this time."

When Roland and Kingsley meet Miss Trombonist.

She used this sentence instead of 'good day'.

She looked ordinary.

She didn’t have long hair as soft as silk, nor a slender neck and waist. The lace embroidered on her front was dry and shriveled, and she looked like a skinny fish that had just been chiseled out of the ice.

However, according to Fonseca.

Ruby is well-known on this street and is extremely popular.

This has to do with her nickname.

"No problem. I'll give you four pounds if what you say next is of value."

She chewed some of the popular gummies and looked at Kingsley for a long moment.

Open the door.

Invite the two of them into the house.

"Find a place you like to sit, sir." She ran her fingertips across the chaise longue, the compact high stool, and the dark green balloon chair, across the bed and several velvet-covered iron frames whose functions were unknown, and finally landed on her face: "No problem."

She chewed with a crunching sound, crossed her legs and half-lay down on the sofa.

Kingsley was obviously not very good at dealing with this kind of person, and after sitting down, he was like a stiff ice sculpture.

Ruby raised an eyebrow.

"Give me two days, sir, and I will turn you into the best in the world of romance... I will teach you myself."

Kingsley said sternly, "I don't think that's necessary, Miss Ruby."

Ruby shrugged and turned to Roland: "What about you, sir? I dare not say anything more to you. Ms. Fonseca hinted to me that if I provoke you, it would be like provoking a lion... I haven't tasted the lion's ** yet..."

Roland gently rubbed the corner of his eye and pressed along it all the way to his temple: "Me neither."

Kingsley glanced sideways and glared at him fiercely.

'Be serious as fuck.'

It's hard to describe how dirty this word is.

"Tell us what you know, Miss Ruby. We paid you, and we'll pay you more, perhaps--what do you know about Jim Walker?"

"Hmm..." Ruby propped up half of her body with her arms, not caring about the slipping tulle: "Let me think about it..."

she says.

"I call him Mr. Butter in private. Is that a secret? I guarantee no one knows—he only calls on me."

"I don't think we paid a few pounds to hear you talk about grease melting on heating."

"Well, he has a little quirk."

Kingsley leaned forward and asked in a deep voice, "What is the hobby?"

"He likes to imitate a sailor... or a captain? Who knows. He said his dream is to have a boat and ride the waves on the sea one day - maybe?"

Ruby said this and suddenly started to chuckle: "This is the funniest boasting I've ever seen..."

If you want a woman to remember you, you have to be creative.

Say less "I'm rich" and "I'm talented" - even girls from good families hear too much of them.

They have their own ability to distinguish, and they don't need you to point at feces and say that it stinks.

They have noses.

You have to say: Last year, when I went to Rio de Janeiro, the tree trunks there were as beautiful as if they were wrapped in silver.

They would ask: Really? Why? What made you want to go there?
So, you can answer: This is just a small stop on my journey around the world.

You don't need to give a detailed lecture on the woods, about the geology, about the climate, about how they got to be the way they are - no one would want to listen to you.

Tell more interesting things.

For example, you spent three shillings to buy a guide (which was not even as much as your servant's child's salary), a piece of land cost only six hundred pounds (which was only your income for two or three days), and the power of the local chieftain (perhaps almost as much as your father's).

You had a great conversation.

You think she is a kind, gentle girl who is willing to listen. She thinks you are a humorous gentleman who is not boastful, sincere and free-spirited.

You drank and talked, and your laughter spread all the way from Latin America to the snail shells on the table.

soon.

There is only one small piece left in the puzzle of traveling around the world.

In the girl's bedroom.

--so.

Ruby is well-informed.

When a living person who truly loves the ocean appears in front of her, it will undoubtedly make her curious.

He has anchors tattooed all over his body. If it weren't for his love for them, no one would dare to do that.

This was not just a few words, but a love that was put into action - Ruby gave him a reduction in overnight fees for the first time just because he was covered in black anchors.

(Although the second time it was the original price.)
(She doesn't like butter.)
"He carries his compass with him, gentlemen."

It is not just an instrument for determining direction.

Jim Walker was known as 'Captain Wooden Legs', but he obviously did more.

For example, his tattoos.

A tinder box (flint, dry tinder and iron sheets) that he always carried in his coat, a sailor's knife, a large string of various and strange amulets, and a pocket watch that smelled of the sea.

He also has a musket that he specially bought from an old shop.

——Usually, this is only held by the captain or senior officers.

He could also play barcarolle on his harmonica, the vast tune of the sea.

even.

The tobacco used to fill the pipes is selected from the sailors' favorite brands.

"There's no doubt that he believes Eve."

Ruby was right when she said that he loved the ocean immensely and longed to live on it - what he showed was even more than love, it could be described as obsession.

The more Kingsley listened, the more curious he became.

The enthusiasm in his heart finally rose: he loved solving this kind of mystery.

"When did he come?"

"You mean, to work here?" Ruby stroked her long hair and tilted her head to think: "Let me think... eight years? Ten years? It must be that long, sir. I heard that he has been hanging out in the red-light district since he was very young, and many older people have watched him grow up."

In other words.

When the arson occurred.

He went to Huajie and changed his name.

"Interesting. What about his parents? Or any relatives at all."

Ruby shook her head. "None of that, sir. He has no one to turn to, no one to rely on. He lives on the prospering streets, and doesn't need to save any money. Apart from his unrealistic dreams and passions, to be honest, he is no different from those slugs who solicit customers."

This puzzled Roland: "For you, soliciting customers is a good thing."

"Yes."

"So--"

"Then why should we hate these people?" Ruby's eyes showed a trace of disgust: "What are these people? Men? They are not men. Women? They stare at us greedily with the coins in their pockets all day long - neither men nor women, sir, what do you say they are?"

Roland: "It's the lion's **."

Ruby was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter: "Yes! Otherwise why would I be curious? It can be considered as fulfilling a wish..."

She glanced at the sullen-faced detective and threw a wink at Roland unscrupulously.

"I like you, sir."

she says.

"Want to know why they call me 'the trombonist'?"

(End of this chapter)