Chapter 610: Searching for Rats
Wayne’s reason for arranging a general meeting was quite simple: it was purely to demonstrate the Detective Agency’s “Pay attention to” (emphasis/importance) on the new bishop’s orders.
Since they had decided to cut corners and include their own agenda, the superficial work naturally had to be done properly.
So, when Merlin brought two people into the archives, almost all the Detective Agency members currently in Richmond were waiting there, and they stood up in unison, applauding in welcome.
Although not “fully staffed,” this display still surprised Merlin. Besides specifically excusing the intelligence team members from attending, even Lina’s little dark-skinned maid was temporarily conscripted by Wayne to make up the numbers.
Once internal consensus was reached, they could boast as much as they wanted externally.
The Detective Agency not only presented a stance that all members would “actively participate in the investigation,” but all three partners, without exception, declared that they would each lead a portion of it, fully supporting the investigation instead of being absentee landlords.
Wayne was already a familiar face at the Cathedral, and many monks knew he was the founder of the Detective Agency, with his name occasionally appearing in newspapers.
Even though the bishop had changed, it wasn't a case of “people leaving and tea growing cold.” At least Merlin still didn't understand Wayne's relationship with the previous and current bishops.
While Inessa’s current status was special, she had already gained some minor recognition in certain small circles within the Holy Spirit Church; at least Tiriel was quite approving of her.
Wayne specifically assigned Inessa to handle daily coordination and information exchange with Merlin and his team. She was not only half a “church insider,” making communication easier for some matters, but her rank and professional expertise should also be on par with theirs, making her more convincing.
As for Lina, she personally disliked making her presence felt on the church side. However, with Wayne and Inessa as comparisons, Merlin naturally viewed her, also a “Detective Agency partner,” in a different light, believing Lina was certainly no simple person either.
With this combination of moves, Merlin’s overall impression of the Detective Agency seemed to improve significantly.
After a preliminary discussion on how both sides should cooperate in the subsequent investigation, Merlin, before heading to the Dock Area to continue catching rats, spoke with emotion:
“I’m starting to think that suspecting your agency in the ‘haunting incident’ before might have been a complete misunderstanding. An organization like your Detective Agency, so enthusiastic about public welfare, certainly wouldn’t randomly use extraordinary abilities on ordinary people.”
This was precisely the effect Wayne wanted. At least when Tiriel asked him about it later, “David Mills” like Merlin should not speak ill of him behind his back, and would appear more objective and fair.
So, he smiled genuinely, “It’s alright, as long as we can work together to ensure the safety of the Dock Area residents.”
…
The next day,
When Doug returned to the workshop to rest after a night of work in the Dock Area with the owl, Wayne officially set out.
The sales team members were still carrying freshly cooled luncheon meat, ready for sale, but today they all had a “red armband” made of cloth strips on their arms, to display their current part-time role as “Hygiene Assistant Specialists.”
America actually had no custom of using such a thing; it was Wayne’s “stroke of genius,” but it didn’t matter. This item was conspicuous enough, and the gangs in the Dock Area would sooner or later know what it meant.
The task of provoking the Sailor Gang was assigned to the sales team members, and Connal even volunteered to participate.
Wayne, meanwhile, went to the Ireland Violent Group’s territory again. This time, he wasn’t looking at the docks, but continuing the owl’s unfinished business—searching for rats.
There was no other way. Excluding that accident, the Detective Agency truly had no more clues at the moment. The direction given by the Wise Sage was too broad, making it difficult to pinpoint in high-density human settlements.
Even Inessa could only place rat traps by feel while conducting investigations, and then try to deduce backward based on the location where abnormal rats were captured.
During the day, patrol officers occasionally appeared in the Dock Area, though the frequency was a bit low, and they weren't necessarily effective.
Wayne, wearing his red armband, randomly stopped one. After explaining the situation, he had the officer lead him into the residential area belonging to the Ireland laborers, and began house-to-house inquiries.
Having an official identity felt quite good. Although even the patrol officer was a bit cautious, and they occasionally encountered indifferent and wary gazes in the street, when they knocked on a door and mentioned “plague screening,” most residents were willing to let Wayne in to look around and would answer some relevant questions. The few who were unwilling would become compliant after a friendly gesture from Sanders, the big tough guy, especially with the uniformed patrol officer silently watching and not intervening.
What made Wayne speechless was that Ireland was clearly right next to the Windsor Kingdom, and the historical ties between them felt even deeper than those between the Windsor Kingdom and America Federation.
Yet, unexpectedly, Wayne, someone who could communicate without barriers with the Indigenous people after transmigrating, actually encountered a language barrier in this place…
What the hell… Are the languages of these two countries not the same thing?!
Fortunately, there were bilingual people in the neighborhood. Wayne hired one for a dollar to be his guide, which barely solved the problem and made the house-to-house inspections and inquiries smoother afterward.
Wayne’s relevant knowledge was also supplemented. It turned out that the language of the Windsor Kingdom was indeed quite common in Ireland, but those Ireland people who had to smuggle themselves over and make a living in the Dock Area often were not among them. Moreover, if you were to tell them to their face that they resembled “Windsor people,” for them, it was considered a very “dirty insult.”
One could only say that the “Empire on which the sun never sets” truly lived up to its name; it indeed had a knack for “being inhumane.”
After touring one block with his simplified vision, the patrol officer, using the excuse that Wayne already had a guide and that the plague screening seemed to be progressing smoothly, found an opportunity to slip away.
Wayne didn't stop him. While continuing the house visits, he also inquired about the situation from the guide, whose transliterated name was “Sai Lun.”
A young, strong fellow who wasn't working at the docks during the day and was flexible enough in communication was essentially what was commonly known as a “street loafer.” This guy was indeed familiar with the area and knew bits and pieces of all sorts of gossipy news.
So, Wayne inadvertently heard a clearly abnormal detail from his mouth: “Are you sure? The number of laborers who went missing that night was several more than the bodies found at the scene?”
The guy didn’t even realize what was going on and nodded when he heard this, “That’s what the foreman at the docks said. When the scaffolding collapsed, several people were crushed into the river and couldn’t be retrieved in time. But don’t worry, their bodies were healthy, with no signs of plague infection, and their families seem to have received compensation.”
Wayne was about to continue asking when Sanders already approached, shielding Wayne behind him: “Boss, it seems we’re being watched.”
A quick scan with his simplified vision showed no obvious extraordinary reactions. Wayne looked up and around. A group of hooligans was approaching quickly, their eyes fixed on his side.
Hmm… If a fight breaks out, it would be a bit troublesome…
Nine people, even self-defense with a gun would require a reload. If only there were gas pipelines buried under the streets in this era…
