[Comprehensive Classics] Detective Mary

"I also saw the confrontation between two souls—that is, faith and conviction," Blackwood said.

Mary froze.

She herself is a staunch atheist materialist, and Philip Luther described by Mary, although he did not reveal any details about his beliefs, he is a police detective with a lot of forensic and criminal investigation knowledge. Be a devout believer, or a paranoid agnostic.

Otherwise, where would he have the confidence to pursue the truth?

But to say that he has faith... Mary thinks, it can't be said that he doesn't have it.

It's just that she never expected that someone would use this aspect to affirm her character.

"Detective Philip Luther insisted on pursuing the truth," she carefully considered her words, trying not to reveal too much emotion, "he is indeed a man of firm conviction."

"I think."

Blackwood said, "So did the murderer."

Mary: "How do you know?"

Blackwood: "Just like Luther identified in the story, the murderer is looking for a definition for himself."

Mary: "..."

She probably understood what Blackwood meant.

After discovering Edmond's true pattern of crime, Philip Luther looked for the overlooked and hidden one in the interval between the two murders.

In this case, Edmund did not ask for leave, did not leave the town in a blatant manner, and even his modus operandi, which had hardly changed, changed—at least so significantly that the police department screened them for a year. In similar cases, the victim is ignored.

But why was there a difference, so that the police ignored the clues.

Luther probably speculated that either he made a mistake and did something ugly, which led to the interruption of the "increasingly proficient" conditions in Edmund's murder process, so people misunderstood that this was not what he did.

Or, there is something special about the victim.

Fortunately, in a small town in the Victorian era, where everyone knew each other and the environment was isolated, it was almost impossible to go out without anyone noticing.

In the end, the police got clues from the conductor at the train station.

The conductor, like the local pastor, the policeman, and other workers, was a native born and bred, born almost the same year as Edmund, and treated this sober-spoken, polite behemoth with respect.

When the detective asked about the date, he reacted almost immediately.

"He did go out that night," he said, "and bought a train ticket to the nearest town. He said that his relative's house had been hit by a disaster and asked him to help repair the house urgently. He did have an aunt in the next town, and the house was indeed broken down." But... oh my God, he couldn't have broken it, could he?"

Luther didn't answer yes or no, he went to investigate it himself.

And the real victim was not beyond his expectations.

Edmond's relative's house collapsed due to snow, and he did leave town that night to repair the roof.But on the road, he still picked his target.

A poor and lonely girl, the target chosen by Edmond is completely different.She was found strangled to death the next day in her dilapidated thatched hut, which was even worse.

Daxue covered up the trace of the murderer, and he did not leave fingerprints.

The reason why Luther suspected that it was Edmund's work was because the victim's village had to be passed through to get from the train station to his aunt's house, and the time of her death coincided with the time he passed by.

But the poor girl did not know Edmund, they were strangers.She should not have been the target of a serial killer, and her modus operandi was completely different from other victims.

Philip Luther stood in front of the dilapidated thatched cottage for a long time, then turned back to the town and found Edmond.

"is her."

The serial killer didn't play puzzles with Detective Luther again, he nodded calmly: "Congratulations, you found the missing piece of the puzzle."

For Edmond, he was indeed playing a jigsaw puzzle with Luther, but the difference was that their toys were not jigsaw puzzles made of cardboard, but corpses.

This metaphor is vivid, but Luther can't laugh.

"why?"

"You want to ask, why her? Because her death method is different from others, more like a random crime."

"..."

After talking about Luther's thoughts, Edmund nodded as if proudly.

"She is indeed not my target. I actually didn't want to do it. Seeing that the heavy snow is coming, I have to repair my aunt's house before it snows. So I rushed there overnight, trying to pick the prey when I returned."

Edmon paused: "Then when I passed by that village, I saw her from that abandoned house. How did you record her in the police file, detective?"

Luther: "The clothes are disheveled, and the lower body has traces of being violated, but it is different from the time of death. There is a time difference of a few hours. You didn't do it."

Edmund: "No. When I found her, she might have been raped...at least three to five hours."

Luther closed his eyes.

"It's not normal for a young lady to be sexually assaulted in the middle of winter and to stay in the cold for that long. So I approached her and she said she had nowhere to go and let people in the village Seeing her walk out of the room like this, she will only think that she is committing adultery. She doesn't know what to do next. If she loses her virginity, everyone will denounce her as a slut, and she will definitely be called a slut. Father kicked him out of the house."

"Then is she committing adultery?"

Edmund laughed.

"Detective," he shook his head with a smile, "if it was unmarried adultery, if it was only a farmer who had sex with her, even if it was a married man, the matter would not have fallen to this point. No matter how heartless her father is No matter how ruthless he is, if he only regards his daughter as property instead of relatives, he will definitely take up his own weapons in order to defend the integrity of the 'property'. But he didn't. The poor man's words proved that her father took all The blame is all on her—a victim. Guess why?"

Luther didn't speak.

"You don't speak," cute Demond didn't gently reveal it, "because you know the answer."

The murderer's expression was still almost cold, and Luther finally understood why he felt uncomfortable when facing Edmond.

Because even though he was smiling, Edmond's eyes did not contain any emotions or waves.

"She was raped by the local landowner," said Edmund, "and the life and death of her family depended on the landowner's willingness to lease the land to her father."

"so."

Until then, Luther did not speak.

His voice was almost hoarse: "Leaving her alone is a dead end, so you strangled her with your own hands."

Edmund: "She begged me."

The murderer who spit out these words made Luther feel chills all over his body.

"She begged me to save her. I couldn't save her, but I could help her out," continued Edmund, as if it were not death he had imposed on his victim but a boon. "She hardly struggled."

"So kill her, you didn't murder anyone else."

"Yes, although I don't think she is my prey, it is also very meaningful."

Edmond admitted frankly: "You have found all the prey, Luther. I know you will be able to find them."

But Luther had no joy of victory after solving the case.

If he could, he still wanted to punch the huge workers in the face—he did find all the victims, but they were cold corpses.

Even if the murderer is arrested a hundred times and hanged a hundred times, the dead girls will not come back to life.

Especially the last one is still dead... It's hard to calm down.

Luther was silent for a long time. He clenched his fists tightly and stood in the quiet room, as if maintaining this posture until the end of time.

Eventually he calmed down.

"I have something to ask you," he said, "what on earth are you doing these things for?"

"You are so smart, detective. Everyone says you are good at guessing the murderer's thoughts, so what do you think I am thinking?" Edmund asked without answering.

"I think you're trying to define yourself."

Whether it is a serial killer or a serial killer, including Edmond's motives and methods, they are all strictly controlled within a standard, as if he himself is an object on the assembly line, with numerical standards written all over his body. .

"You want to find a place for yourself," Luther said.

"It doesn't seem wrong for you to say that," Edmund said, "I don't believe in God, so the standard of 'person' in religion can't define me. I have to know myself through my own means."

"I don't know."

Luther was a little confused.

"Since you know yourself so well, why do you still challenge me to solve the case?"

"Because I know, detective, you can understand me."

Edmund's words were almost sincere.

"And you are stuck in the mud for a woman, and I have to help you out. A smart person always has to reach out to help another smart person."

"You think I'm on the same side as you?" Luther laughed out loud.

"Isn't it?" asked Edmund.

Luther couldn't help but turned around and left the cell.

He did not answer Edmond's words, nor refuted, insulted him, nor explained to him.The serial killer is greeted by a hanging—let's hope the gallows in town can hang the murderer like a giant.

No explanation is because there is no need to explain. In Edmond's eyes, a woman is just "a woman", and he will not understand why Philip Luther is so sad.

What he did did cheer up Luther, but not in Edmond's way.

Instead, in the process of finding the murderer for each girl and helping their souls to be liberated, Philip Luther gradually recalled that his love for his dead wife was not a burden, nor did she choose to marry him to torture each other.

His wife loves him because he has been chasing the truth of the case and never gave up.If he was depressed and gave up because of her death, then Luther felt that he would have no face to face his lover after death.

Edmund is indeed understanding himself, but he pursues life and death so much that he loses the ruler that belongs to human beings.But Luther did, so he never felt that he was the same kind of person as the murderer.

This ruler is Anna Luther, the love and support of his wife, regardless of time and space, across life and death, always by his side.

The story of "Serial Killer Chess Game" ends here.

Therefore, Sir Blackwood said, she could somewhat understand that murderers and detectives who seek their own definitions are men of faith.

Love is also a kind of faith, isn't it?Even though Mary did not directly describe Philip Luther's feelings for his dead wife and their loving life in the past, Luther's longing for his wife and his depression and despair due to the separation of yin and yang are not fake.

"The murderer pursues life and death too much," Blackwood said. "Let's say he is considering the meaning of human existence on the physical level, while Detective Luther is looking for the human self on the spiritual level."

"So, sir," Mary asked rather curiously, "how do you think about human existence when you're so concerned about it?"

"My opinion?"

Sir Blackwood twitched the corners of his mouth slightly, and did not speak for a long time.

Just when Mary thought he would not answer, he spoke: "In my opinion, this kind of pursuit is very important. People have to think about everything, doubt everything, and can't take the ready-made answers that exist in this world and given by the outside world as the answer." The supreme standard, we are too small to be vulnerable in the vast universe, the more so, the more we have to doubt it."

Mary shivered.

From this tone, Sir Blackwood is still a skeptic, and obviously...does not believe in God.

This is in the UK!

"Then," she tentatively asked, "do you even have to doubt the standards given in the Bible?"

"When necessary, doubt."

As he said that, Blackwood laughed out jokingly: "This is disrespectful, but I believe that Miss Mary will not spread it to others, right?"

"No, no..."

Mary said, "Though you really startled me."

"—what, what else could startle Mary?"

When Mary's words fell, Elizabeth walked over with a smile. She was very surprised and curious: "You are not afraid of tomorrow, you dare to think and do anything, but I want to know what can scare you."

Lord Blackwood: "Oh, is that so? Miss Mary is clearly a docile and pleasant lady. It turns out that there is a strong and superb soul living under her delicate skin."

Elizabeth: "Super is not super I don't know, but my sister must be a strong lady."

Mary, who was teased, was not annoyed, and just responded to Elizabeth's topic with a smile: "I just talked about skepticism with Sir Blackwood."

"That's what you like."

Elizabeth was not surprised: "It's really rare to see Mary talking happily with a gentleman."

As she spoke, she blinked her eyes, the meaning couldn't be more obvious: I've bullied her for so long, now it's finally my sister's turn to bully you!

And Mary just had a standard smirk and didn't refute.It was as if Elizabeth had really said what was on her mind.

——Until almost a week later, Sherlock Holmes, who was several days behind schedule, finally arrived at Pemberley Manor before the wedding.

The first time he saw Mary, the petite girl said directly: "I think there is something wrong with that Sir Blackwood."

Holmes: "..."

The detective who had just got off the carriage hadn't figured out who Sir Blackwood was yet, but with his extraordinary wisdom and years of detective experience, he almost immediately caught up with Mary's train of thought.

He didn't ask Mary any questions about Sir Blackwood, but continued, "What do you think is wrong with him?"

There are problems everywhere!

With such a name, he talked with a strange lady about the soul, humanity, and even religious issues.He bluntly stated that he did not believe in God-but looking at these interesting topics, he did not look like a materialist who respected science.

Although Mary hasn't found any clues or evidence yet, her intuition tells her that this person is definitely a problem.

Fortunately, tomorrow is the wedding of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Mary thinks it is better to suppress all doubts and worries and let Elizabeth get a perfect wedding before thinking about other things.

The author has something to say: Mary: Based on my years of experience in reading detective novels, this kind of character is either a villain or a victim. (Speaking and holding up the small cross)

Elizabeth: ? ? ?Why are you holding up the cross?

Mary: For funerals =. =

#On the Multiple Uses of Mary's Little Cross#