Unlike when he first arrived in Stuttgard, Ed has now changed offices and residences. His new office, much larger and cleaner than before, consists of a reception room and an office, and is located on the twenty-fourth floor of a new office building on the edge of the city. His newly rented house was two blocks away, on a half-cut mountain range as short as a sprint track. There are only two houses on the whole road, each of which occupies a large area, and the lawn in the courtyard is lush enough to keep horses. Ed lives in the one inside. The owner of the house is an elderly lady who was picked up by her daughter when Ed moved in, and all Ed needed was to send her money on a monthly basis.

If it was Ed himself, of course, he would be less interested in worrying about these things, so of course there were other people who helped Ed do this. Another guy who has a dead brain and feels like he owes Ed a lot of trouble because of his boss who picks the door. Ed was quite annoyed by this guy, but today he had to take the initiative to ask her out to meet. There's no way, you have to be like this when you ask someone to do something, and you have to endure it no matter how uncomfortable it is.

At noon the next day, Ed took a car to a very famous commercial street in the small Hiland district in the north of Stuttgard, called "Red Maple Avenue". When Ed first came to this street, he didn't know why it was called Red Maple Boulevard, and he didn't see a single maple tree until he later discovered that the most famous place here was the Red Maple Park, which covers an area of more than 1.5 hectares. At that time, he immediately thought of one thing, when the right season came, he might be able to apply for the position of sanitation worker, and he could definitely take the opportunity to ask for more prices.

Ed's destination is a place called Cavinger's Restaurant, a red-brick, classical-looking modernist building that looks like a chocolate cream cake. The kind that hasn't been kicked before.

He walked up to the second floor and walked to the second-to-last booth by the window. The person he wanted to see had been waiting here for some time.

"You're late." Marcy said with sunglasses and a newspaper in her hand, without raising her head or looking at Ed.

"I think you're early." Ed sat down calmly, stretched out his hand to beckon the waiter, ordered a cup of coffee casually, and then glanced in front of Marcy. The cup of good-looking Earl Grey tea had been completely cooled.

"Wait a minute." He stopped the waiter who was leaving, raised his head and raised his chin directly in front of him, "Get down, and give this young lady a new one." ”

The waiter nodded, reaching out and taking the cup from Marcy's face. Marcy put down the newspaper in her hand and tossed it casually on the edge of the table. Her shoulder-length short hair was untied and neatly scattered, and she was dressed in black leather, boots, leather trousers, and a leather jacket—the coat looked a little small—and a silky black shirt underneath, which made her already dark skin look much whiter. Ed thought it must be a big reason why she was dressed the way she did.

Marcy closed her lips and looked directly at Ed opposite, even through the black and red sunglasses, Ed could feel the fire in his gaze like stewed chicken.

"A word of advice for you – as a friend." Marcy's body leaned forward suddenly, and she put one arm across the table, her lips parted, revealing the teeth that were clenched together, "The next time you go on a date with a woman, especially if you take the initiative to ask someone out, remember to be sure to arrive early, not on time." It's good to be on time, but it's not enough, it's not enough. ”

"Arrive early."

"Yes."

"Can't be on time."

"Yes."

"It's not enough to be on time."

"That's what I meant."

Ed looked at Marcy, crossed his fingers against his chin, straightened his neck and thought for a moment, and nodded slowly.

"It's a nuisance. I don't think I'll ever ask a woman out again in my life. ”

“……”

"Not you, of course." Noticing Marcy's strange appearance, Ed immediately waved his hand, "I may have something to ask you for help in the future." ”

“…… You bastard. The corners of Marcy's mouth twitched, she shook her head and sighed, leaning back heavily in her chair before reaching out and taking off her sunglasses.

At this moment, the waiter walked over, carefully placed Eddard's coffee and Marcy's black tea in front of each other, and then turned and walked away, his steps like a cat without hearing a single movement. Ed watched the dude's back back back to the bar, then looked back at Marcy.

"So," he said, "how, is there anything to say to me?" ”

"You're so thick-skinned."

"This is only true for certain groups of people." Ed took a sip of his coffee, "It's okay if you don't find out anything, I'll treat you to a cup of tea." ”

"You're shameless."

"On the one hand, he is thick-skinned, and on the other hand, he is shameless." Ed raised an eyebrow, "I'm amazing. ”

“…… Now," Marcy glared, gritting her teeth at Ed, "if you don't say anything that makes me happy, I'll turn around and leave!" ”

"If you are pleased?" Ed frowned and thought about it seriously, and struggled to stir the brain in his skull, "You look at Zhenbai today - or something?" ”

Marcy got up and turned to leave. Ed immediately stopped her.

"Okay, okay." He raised his voice, raised his hands, and tilted his head helplessly, "Sit down first, okay?" ”

“……”

Marcy glanced at Eddard and sat back in her seat after two seconds. Ed sighed.

"I never knew you were such a grumpy person." He said wiltedly.

"I don't know." Marcy hugged her shoulders and sat up straight, "But the truth is, I'm just hot right now." ”

"So, what do I do now?"

“…… Oh, my God. Marcy closed her eyes weakly and put her forehead down, "Can you at least say thank you?" ”

"Thank you."

"And then?"

“…… You're such a good friend," Ed tentatively continued, his eyes rolling, "next time I'm going to dinner for you—just for you, just for you, just for thanks, nothing else." ”

Ed is not a person who can't speak, and if necessary, he can even make witty words and witty enough to make people praise him. But now he behaved in front of Marcy as if he had just learned to speak, and the effort made Marcy feel tired and panicked. She pursed the corners of her lips, looked at Ed with an inexplicable gaze, shook her head slightly, and stretched out her hand to signal Ed to stop.

"That's it." She smiled for the first time, but it was a smile mixed with helplessness and amusement sighs, "I guess it might be too hard for you to do this kind of thing." ”

"If you understand, I'd like to thank you so much."

"I thought you were flamboyant."

"That's called beating around the bush. It's only when I need to, that I do a lot of tricks. Ed looked up at Marcy, "I think I can just say something to you." ”

“…… You're such a bastard, there's no doubt about it. Marcy rolled her eyes upward, then sat up straight and put her hand into her arms, pulling out a small envelope and throwing it on the table.

Ed looked at the envelope, then at Marcy. Marcy didn't say a word, and drank the black tea to herself. So Ed picked up the envelope, opened it, and poured out the contents. It's a bunch of photos, a bunch of headshots.

"Look," said Marcy, "see if you know any." ”

Ed casually flipped through the pile of photos. There were only a dozen or so of all the photos in one, and Ed quickly found a familiar face in them. He pulled the picture out and gestured to Marcy. A red and green ice cream.

"The bartender you were talking about, right?" Marcy asked.

"It's a little hard to admit his mistake."

"His name is 'Jiri'." Marcy took the ice cream headshot from Ed's hand, took it in his hand and glanced at it twice, his gaze was rather dismissive, "I'm not very familiar with him, but many people in the city bureau have an impression of this little guy." ”

"He's got a foundation in the cold storage?"

"Thick as the Yellow Pages." Marcy laughed, "Robbery, theft, extortion, extortion, protection money, and fraud — he's kind of a typical person in that circle." It wasn't until more than a year ago that he was much more honest. But to be honest is not accurate. He just climbed to a higher position, and it became difficult to grasp the braid easily. ”

"Climbed to a higher position?" Ed raised an eyebrow, "You mean, he joined an organized gang?" ”

"Mubagh." Marcy gestured to the photo in front of Ed, "The one with the beard." Bearded. ”

Ed flipped out the photo of the bearded man. His head looked like a boiled egg with long hair.

"Mubagh is the boss of Jiri and the owner of the Flying Inn—the Red-lipped Wild Dog. Including Jiray, his group of men are all similar to each other. ”

"Gangster?"

"It's too much of a lift-up." Marcy waved her hand, "A bunch of thugs. ”

"Hmm......" Eddard rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "do you think they're possible, kidnapping?" ”

"It's not impossible. If I had to say, although this work is a bit big for them, but the profit is sufficient, and they should be happy to take the risk. With a mysterious smile on her face, Marcy sat down calmly, her hands and ten fingers together, "Also, I have an additional message that you might be interested in hearing about." ”

"What's the news?" Ed looked at Marcy's gaze a little inexplicably. When did this woman start to learn to sell guanzi?

When Marcy told Ed what she had said, Ed's eyes widened and closed, and finally slowly reopened. His eyes changed completely.

"Looks like you've been busy all morning. You came prepared. Ed's calm tone was tinged with a low sigh, "How did you notice this?" ”

"Mubag's gang is too small, and we don't have the time to focus on these small characters. But there are some people who are interested in them and keep an eye on them. Our men were interested in those who were staring at them, and noticed a little change in the Mubagh gang that they had noticed. Marcy shrugged, "I didn't expect this inconsequential information to help you. ”

"Helped me a lot. Thanks, man. It was rare for Ed to blurt out a thank you without brewing.

"Don't rush to say thank you just yet." Marcy held out a finger, her eyes suddenly becoming serious, "There's one more thing you need to know. ”

"Well," Ed pulled back his chin, "it doesn't seem like a good thing." ”

"It's not a good thing." Marcy nodded, "The man your client wants you to seek, the boy named Tommy—he's a little black guy. ”

“……”

"I looked up all these things by the way when I looked up his information. He did not have any local archives and had been smuggled from elsewhere. It could be other metropolises, or it could be ground. But there's no doubt about that he's a black guy. So, when you get him back—if you can get it back—the bureau will prepare a good cup of black tea for him to drink. ”

Marcy picked up her teacup, shook it at Eddard, and took a sip. Ed was silent, then shook his head.

"It's terrible." He said quietly, buried in his helplessness, "I now know why she doesn't want the police to meddle in this matter." Now my post-mortem may be lowered. ”