Chapter 40: The 1924 Train Murder Case (13)

“Oh, alright.”

Tang Mu, who had posed the question, appeared utterly composed.

She glanced at the gun in Bartholomew’s hand, the one kept for collection, her gaze flickering slightly.

“Although I believe there’s an eighty percent chance that Mr. Bartholomew isn’t the murderer, just to be safe, could you let me examine your pistol closely?”

“Why should I?” The moment she asked to see his gun, Mr. Bartholomew became markedly wary and defensive.

Tang Mu was well prepared for his reaction.

“Of course, you can refuse. But if your name ends up being the one most people drop into the ballot box… you might not last a day before being eliminated. You wouldn’t even need to wait until the timed device explodes three days from now.”

Bartholomew was silent for a long time.

Outwardly, he remained calm, but the turmoil and fear gnawing at him were likely known only to himself.

As the seconds ticked by, Bartholomew ultimately could not withstand his internal dread and torment.

He handed his pistol to Tang Mu.

Tang Mu ran her hand over the gun’s body. As she suspected, it was warm. That meant the bullet lodged in the victim’s chest had indeed been fired from this gun.

As for when it was fired…

Most likely, it was during the train’s sudden braking. The violent collision between the carriages masked the sound of the gunshot.

But when she addressed the group, Tang Mu said, “Hmm, I don’t see any issue. I believe Mr. Bartholomew is not the murderer.”

“Why isn’t he?” Ottilia was clearly angry; she could not accept this outcome.

“You say he’s not, so he isn’t? What we need is logic, not your subjective conjecture! If we pick the wrong person, everyone on this train will pay the price!”

“Because the magazine was empty,” Tang Mu replied. “Didn’t Mr. Bartholomew himself say? If he wanted to kill, he wouldn’t use a gun. He’d wait until the train reached its destination, steal the object, commit murder, then disembark.”

“But notice, the box containing anthrax bacteria, cradled by Mr. Augustine, was neither stolen nor destroyed. That means the killer’s target wasn’t that object.”

---

“There are other motives for murder.”

Tang Mu spoke with calm assurance.

Other motives? There were thirteen or fourteen people who could come and go freely in the VIP lounge. How long would it take to interrogate each one?

Compared to the others, who frowned in concern, Lady Ottilia clearly was not ready to let Tang Mu off easily.

“And what about you, Miss Tang Mu? What’s your connection to the deceased? Your timeline seems suspiciously clean.”

Tang Mu spread her hands. “What am I supposed to do?”

She looked at Lady Ottilia in exasperation. “You can’t just ignore logic and throw accusations at me out of personal grudges, can you?”

“Besides, the fact that my timeline is so clean is pure accident.”

“There’s a puncture mark on the victim’s neck.”

“Well, you need to ask who actually approached the deceased.” Facing Lady Ottilia’s aggressive questioning, Tang Mu remained unruffled. “A needle puncture needs to penetrate the flesh. I don’t believe the victim would sit quietly in his seat after being jabbed.”

“Unless… he was already unconscious at that moment.”

When it came to the victim’s period of unconsciousness, Jim, Lady Ottilia’s butler, silently raised his hand.

He seemed to know when the victim was injected with the unknown substance.

“May I say something?” Perhaps owing to his years as a butler, Jim was always cautious. He never spoke out of turn, and even when he did, he sought Lady Ottilia’s permission.

After all, Lady Ottilia was not easy to please. Any lapse in his duties was sure to earn her stern rebuke.

Lady Ottilia nodded, granting him leave to speak.

Jim tried, “As a butler, paying attention to details is my duty. Only with careful preparation can I perform my job perfectly.”

“So, when Mr. Augustine boarded the train, his peculiar attire was already within my scrutiny.”

“After boarding, he was sweating profusely from all the layers he wore. Yet, despite this, he never removed his clothes, and kept clutching the bulge inside his garments.”

---

“A few minutes later, Steward James quarreled with him. Then Mr. Eli brought over a sandwich and a cup of milk for Mr. Augustine.”

“Shortly after drinking the milk, Mr. Augustine fell asleep.”

“I don’t know when the puncture was made in Mr. Augustine’s neck. But I do know that Miss Tang Mu, Mr. Eli, the painter Hunt, and Steward James all left their seats and passed by the victim.”

“But my lady left her seat while Mr. Augustine was still awake, and returned while he was still awake. So she can be excluded from suspicion.”

...

“Let me correct you,” Tang Mu interjected. “If everything you say is true, your lady can only be cleared regarding the needle puncture. Moreover, you’re Lady Ottilia’s butler; you could easily be biased in her favor.”

After rebuking Jim, Tang Mu addressed the players and NPCs, “Close relationships cannot be used to vouch for each other; the credibility is too low.”

“Well then, let’s assume Lady Ottilia was involved. You, Mr. Eli, Painter Hunt, and Steward James all indeed lingered near the victim. I don’t think I’m mistaken.”

He paused for a few seconds, then narrowed the scope further.

“But I believe I can rule out more suspects. Steward James did not approach Augustine during his period of unconsciousness. So he too can be excluded.”

“Is that enough to pinpoint the suspect?” Painter Hunt, seeing himself once again drawn into the case, was clearly disgruntled.

“Mr. Gil sat right behind Augustine; if he wanted to inject something, couldn’t he have done so easily?”

“Besides, instead of passing the blame around, shouldn’t we ask why Augustine lapsed into unconsciousness after eating the food Mr. Eli brought him? Isn’t that the most glaring loophole?”

Indeed.

The food was delivered by Eli.

So Eli…

Tang Mu looked at Eli.

Eli’s expression had changed.

His eyes, once clear at the start of the game, had lost all their transparency.

A silhouette of the Queen of Spades slowly emerged in the depths of his gaze.