Chapter 21

As a fragrant plate of white wine-flavored Kerry anise-braised lamb shanks was placed on the table, Feng Bujue leaned slightly, picked up the paper bag from under his chair, and took out a rather large envelope.

"You should recognize this envelope, Mr. Lovecraft?" Feng Bujue said to Coulson.

The latter hesitated for two seconds, then was greatly alarmed. In an instant, his expression changed from shock to fury. "You… you thief! This is blatant theft!" He stood up excitedly, pointed at Feng Bujue, and faced Detective Schofield. "Arrest him! Officer!"

"What's going on?" Schofield was confused for a moment, because he didn't know what was in Jue-Ge's paper bag.

About forty minutes ago, the detective contacted a former colleague by phone. The colleague was still working in the police bureau of the big city and readily agreed to help Schofield. Twenty minutes later, the detective called again, and the colleague had already obtained relevant information about the gardener Barton from the archives and faxed it over (Fax machines developed and became popular rapidly after the 1980s, with the progress of standardization and technology maturity, and naturally households like Lovecraft's would have one).

From the time Feng Bujue received the fax to the moment he appeared at the restaurant door, the detective didn't know where he had gone.

"It's a very simple matter," Feng Bujue said. "I just slipped into Mr. Lovecraft's room and stole this will from his safe."

"What!" Everyone at the table was shocked.

"You… this…" Schofield was at a loss.

"Moreover, I've already opened it and read it," Feng Bujue added in a relaxed tone. "Look, the seal has been torn open." He showed it to everyone. "Don't worry, I think Mr. Coulson's lawyer has a stack of identical copies. Wills are usually made in duplicate or even triplicate, so it doesn't matter if I burn this one."

If Mr. Coulson was a burning fire at this moment, then Feng Bujue's words, attitude, and actions were like firewood, gasoline, and liquefied gas… If the former was twenty years younger, he probably would have jumped onto the table and kicked him by now.

"Saw some interesting content…" Feng Bujue casually put the will on the table, picked up his knife and fork, and continued eating the lamb.

"Mr. Feng!" Schofield suddenly stood up solemnly and took out a pair of handcuffs from his waist. "You should be clear that your actions…"

"Are theft," Feng Bujue interrupted. "Of course I know… Don't worry, Detective, since I took the thing out, it's equivalent to admitting my guilt, isn't it?" He didn't care at all. "Do I look like I'm going to run away?" He said as he ate, "It's not too late to handcuff me and send me to the town's police station overnight after I've solved this murder case."

"No! You must arrest him now! Officer! Why are you listening to a thief?" Coulson shouted desperately. He leaned on his cane, stood up from his seat, and struggled to walk around the long table, all the way from the head of the table.

"Hehe… What do you want to do? Snatch the will back and knock me unconscious with your cane? Do you think that will stop me from revealing its contents?" Feng Bujue sat calmly, looking leisurely, as if the furious old man rushing towards him posed no threat at all.

Schofield stepped forward and said to Coulson, who was approaching, "Sir, please don't be impulsive, violence can't…"

"You sit down!" Suddenly, Feng Bujue shouted. At this moment, his tone and expression changed instantly.

He pulled out a pistol from the paper bag beside him with lightning speed and raised it to aim. His movements were so practiced and his speed so fast that it was hard to believe he was a law-abiding citizen…

Jue-Ge's gun was not pointed at Coulson, but at another person, one who had quietly gotten up and was trying to approach from the side—Barton.

"I know you're quite skilled," Feng Bujue said, his expression resolute and cold as he stared directly at his target. "But my marksmanship is not bad either."

Barton's face changed several times. The cowardly, kind, and fussing gardener disappeared in a few short seconds. Replaced by a stern, forbearing, and unfathomable man. On his face, one could also see the shadow of another person, the owner of this villa… Coulson.

"Officer, do you have a gun?" Feng Bujue asked, staring unblinkingly at Barton.

"Mr. Feng… before things get out of hand, I advise you…" Schofield didn't finish his sentence.

Feng Bujue interrupted, "If you don't have one, use mine."

At this moment, Schofield finally recovered from his initial surprise and understood the situation. He composed himself, quickly stepped forward, took the gun from Feng Bujue, then raised it with both hands, aimed at Barton, and ordered loudly, "Dempsey, handcuff Mr. Barton."

"Yes… yes!" Dempsey was stunned for a moment, but still did as he was told. Although he didn't understand what was going on, obeying his superior's orders should be right.

When Barton was handcuffed, Coulson collapsed. He slumped to the ground, looking as if he had aged ten years in an instant, and his distraught eyes frightened all his family members.

Odette, Jack, and Nancy all ran over, surrounded Coulson, and tried to help him up.

"Now that things have come to this, should I call you John Barton," Feng Bujue said, "or… John Lovecraft?"

As soon as these words came out, everyone in the room looked at Barton, including Oliver, who had just pushed the cart in. Everyone froze…

The changes in these few short minutes, and Feng Bujue's words at this moment, seemed to have revealed everything.

"When did you start suspecting me?" Barton said in a deep voice.

"When was it…" Feng Bujue saw that the situation was under control, so he picked up his knife and fork again and began to eat. "When I was investigating with the detective on the lawn outside the villa."

"Did I leave any traces outside Dennis's guest room window?" Barton asked.

"No, it has nothing to do with that," Feng Bujue said. "I was basically sure that you were the murderer after seeing the tree outside Mr. Coulson's house."

"You…" Barton was stunned. "Heh… hehehe… hahahaha…" He laughed, then continued, "I underestimated you too much. You can even notice such details…"

"Ah, that's for sure," Feng Bujue replied coldly. "And when I listed you as the main suspect, your clumsy performance in front of me earlier, the flaws and mistakes in it, were gradually revealed." He shook his head. "Drawing legs on a snake, digging your own grave, is the most appropriate way to describe you in this case."