The Freeman family now lived on the second floor of an apartment building along the street. Although the house was not as large as before, it was at least clean, tidy, and safe. As a temporary place to stay, it was perfectly fine. However, since the head of the family had died, their lives would likely become much harder.
The two children attended public middle school in the city. The Steam Age also had summer holidays, so they were at home with Mrs. Freeman. Mrs. Freeman asked the children not to disturb them, then entertained the two in the living room. After Priest Augustus returned the key, he introduced Xia De to the somewhat haggard woman with a high nose and blonde hair:
"This is Hamilton Detective Xia De Hamilton from Saint Delan Square. He is a friend of mine. He heard about Mr. Freeman from me and went to Hangerton Garden Street with me today."
"Good afternoon, madam. This investigation is purely out of my personal curiosity and is free of charge. Coincidentally, my Writer friend is writing a Detective novel, and I want to help her gather some material."
Xia De said, handing over his business card. The title of "Detective of Saint Delan Square" was quite impressive, and coupled with the fact that he was a friend brought by Priest Augustus, Mrs. Freeman naturally did not mind his presence.
After quietly thanking Xia De, Priest Augustus began to recount their experiences from that morning. When asked about the attic, Mrs. Freeman also recalled the oil paintings:
"Those were my husband's drafts. Generally, these works were supposed to be burned to prevent them from circulating on the market. He passed away too suddenly and didn't have time to destroy the last batch of drafts. I originally intended to take them with me, but I probably forgot them in the attic."
Xia De actually sympathized with this middle-aged woman. She had no legitimate income, and her entire family relied on the deceased Painter. When she hastily moved out of the house, she even left some luggage behind. In the days to come, after selling the remaining paintings in the house, they would have to survive on their own.
"I want to confirm, when Mr. Freeman met with the accident, were there also bloodstains in the attic?"
Xia De inquired. Mrs. Freeman nodded, a sad expression on her face:
"Yes, there were cuts on his palms. Besides that, there were also five or six non-fatal old injuries on his body. The police at Leedweich Field also discovered this when they examined the body, but they didn't find a matching knife in the attic. Later, they speculated that he might have hit something sharp when he fell."
"I don't know if you—"
Xia De wanted to ask what the woman in front of him was doing when Mr. Freeman had his accident, but the words got stuck in his throat. The young Outsider's experience was no match for the Old Priest's. Priest Augustus rephrased the question:
"How long after Mr. Freeman's accident did you discover him?"
"About half an hour later. At that time, the children were playing in the garden, and I went to buy bread. We thought he was tidying up old drafts in the attic, but we didn't expect—"
Even though a week had passed, the woman still couldn't forget the terrifying scene from that day.
Xia De and the Priest, sitting on the sofa, exchanged glances. The Priest cautiously said:
"Regarding Mr. Freeman's matter, it currently appears to be unrelated to the haunting incidents commonly recognized by the Church. However, within one or two weeks of Mr. Freeman's mental state changing, did he come into contact with anything strange? For example, an antique bought from an unknown source, a strange potion, or a bone ornament accidentally obtained from a vendor?"
"No, he was busy painting all summer and rarely went out. If there's really anything strange, it could only be some oil paintings sent to him half a month ago by a friend he knew in Carson Rick when he was young. An Old Painter there passed away, and his collection of inexpensive old paintings were sold in batches. My husband commissioned his friend to buy a batch, hoping to find some inspiration from other people's painting styles."
Xia De exchanged glances with the Priest again. In that case, their original line of thought was wrong. It wasn't an evil spirit occupying the house, nor did the house itself hold any secrets. If Mr. Freeman's death truly involved the mysterious, then it was very likely related to that batch of paintings.
When they moved, those paintings were also brought by Mrs. Freeman to the new rented apartment. Because the family was only temporarily staying there, intending to move to a street with cheaper housing in the northern district of Tobesk once their old house was sold, most of their luggage had not been unpacked and was stored in a separate room in the apartment.
Among the wooden boxes stacked in the corner, most were paintings collected by Mr. Griman during his lifetime. Unfortunately, these relics were not valuable; otherwise, the family's life could have improved somewhat.
Mrs. Griman quickly found the wooden box where the oil paintings were stored. The wooden box had already been opened, and a very professional cardboard art folder was used to store the oil paintings.
Priest Augustus took the folder and began to search through it, while Xia De stood beside him, chatting with Mrs. Freeman:
"I noticed this wooden box is already open. Has anyone touched the contents?"
"The children might have been rummaging for toys in there. Since moving here, I've been dealing with things all day long and rarely looked after them—"
"Xia De!"
The Priest suddenly called out, and Xia De quickly turned around:
"What's wrong?"
"One is missing, one painting is missing."
He pulled open the white cardboard art folder, and one of the pages in the middle was blank. This wasn't at either end; the two adjacent paintings on this page were still there, so a painting was indeed missing from here.
"Maybe the children moved it—"
Seeing the expressions on Xia De and the Old Priest's faces, the middle-aged woman, who didn't know what was happening, said with some panic.
The Priest immediately handed her the folder:
"Mrs. Freeman, please confirm which painting is missing from here and try to recall its content. Xia De, you go find the older Boy, and I'll bring the little girl over."
"Understood."
The rented apartment was roughly the same size as the second-floor Room 1 of Xia De's house. After leaving the room where the cardboard boxes were stored, Xia De walked forward past the bathroom door, then reached out and knocked on the closed bedroom door:
"Please open the door. Your mother needs to speak with you."
But no sound came from inside. Xia De turned his head and saw that Priest Augustus had already led the little girl, who was holding a rabbit doll, out of the room, and Mrs. Griman, holding the art folder, had also come out, her expression somewhat dazed:
"The missing painting, I remember it seemed to depict miscellaneous items placed on a table. A rotten black apple, a double-headed plaster statue, a toy wooden model of a three-story house, a golden pendant, and an antique vase with a strange pattern... I don't have a deep impression of this painting. If you hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't even remember that I knew this painting existed."
A puzzled expression was on her face, clearly indicating doubt about her own memory.
And in Mrs. Freeman's narration, every item in the painting sounded problematic.