"Yes, sir." Martin put his handkerchief in his pocket and rubbed his palms together.

Martin walked over to pick up the shovel and carefully dug through the dirt, and Mill stood in front of the burial of the body, holding up an oil lamp to light Martin as he pondered the impending death of the three men in his mind.

The identities of the three men have not yet been verified, and after the investigation, he will need to go to the French police station to ask Waldeux Roux about their identities.

Ian is one of the federal politicians, Jacques is the sheriff of New Orleans, and the identities of these three people, Mir is thrown into conjecture.

However, the night before they died, Mir saw clearly that they had sought out three girls and had smelled them afterwards, and there was nothing suspicious.

Mill began to make assumptions that it was highly likely that the three girls were indirect accomplices to the killer, or that everyone in the New Orleans inn was all possible.

Or, with the interference of indirect accomplices, the real murderer runs out at dawn to commit the crime, and the most clueless thing for Mir is how the murderer appeared in the hotel to commit the crime.

It should have been when he was drunk in the tavern area, someone let out the wind, and the murderer appeared quietly in the hotel.

Mir's first suspicion was Laura, followed by Laura's man, and finally the guy who had never been in the kitchen.

In the face of all kinds of speculation and suspicion, Mir still needs to continue the investigation on the bodies of the three, mainly the characteristics of their deaths, and secondarily their identities.

Mir cut off his momentary thoughts, his eyes fell on Martin, who was digging slowly, and said, "Martin, you can hurry, it's almost dawn." ”

"Don't worry, sir, I feel like I'm going to dig them up soon." Martin said unhurriedly, "I don't have the precision of the chief, I'm afraid I'll accidentally destroy the body." ”

"Very well, Martin, that's all." Mir said helplessly: "You'd better dig until dawn, maybe someone will pass by here." ”

"It's best to wait until the killer comes over himself, so that guy thinks that we did it for Jacques to get out of the dirt." Mill continued.

"Oh, no, sir, I don't want that." Martin's movements began to get faster.

Mill looked at Martin's foot and stomped on the top of the shovel and said, "Then speed up." ”

"Sir, it's already very fast."

"You're doing a great job, Martin, I see it, that's it, just dig it like that."

After about ten minutes, Martin was gasping slightly, a little physically and mentally exhausted, and it was far better to be physically exhausted than mentally exhausted than to walk from Mill's house to One Lafayette.

Martin tossed the shovel aside, and then sat down on the wet soil, and he increased his speed as Mill commanded, so he took the handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Sir, the body has been dug up." Martin exclaimed.

Martin didn't know where Mill had gone, he was still talking to himself, and then he turned his head and looked back, but he didn't notice anything.

At this time, the whole Lafayette One was pitch black, and there was no light source in sight, especially the oil lamp in Mir's hand, which also disappeared.

Martin seemed to hear his own heartbeat, beating like some kind of rhythm, like the ditties that the residents of New Orleans play on a daily basis.

"What are you looking for? Martin. ”

Martin was startled by the sudden words, and he immediately turned back to see Mill with an oil lamp without warning.

"My sir, please don't make such jokes."