Ye (Night Eleven): "Private House Murder (4) Landlady.
Christopher Moore Holland Gardiff is Grigley W Temple at 231 Kaiser Dreher Road. Bristol was 27 Secmo Avenue and Billy himself was taken aback. He found that the second name, like the first, seemed to have something to do with things.
Grigley W. Temple, Christophe, Moore Holland, he thought while pronounced the name, what the hell was going on? What a lovely two kids. Billy was thinking when suddenly the voice of the landlady came from behind him. He saw the landlady walking gracefully towards him with a silver tea tray. Their names are familiar.
Really cooked.
Did he say yes?
That's interesting, I'm sure.
I'm sure I've seen these names somewhere before, it's so strange, I just can't remember. In the newspapers, on television, they are not celebrities.
I mean people like baseball stars, football stars.
I don't think they're celebrities, but they're very charismatic.
Both are very charismatic. They are slender and handsome, just like you.
Dear Billy looked at the registration form again, and he pointed to the date and said that the latter person had been registered two years ago.
Is it?
It must have been more than three years since Christopher Murrayland, God! I didn't even think about how time flies.
Right, Mr. Wilkins? My name is Weaver. Billy said: "Weaver, yes, look how stupid I am, I always misremember your name, I'm sorry Mr. Weaver."
It's okay, but I'm curious, I mean do you know about them both? Billy asked no, I wasn't very clear.
You see these two names, Mooreholland and Temple, I can't remember any of them if they are separated, but when put together, it seems to be related to something. It seems to be because of the same thing.
Do you know what I mean? It's like, let's say Roosevelt and Churchill.
Is it? I don't really know. The landlady smiled and brought tea and biscuits to Billy. You really don't have to bother Billy to say, the landlady just laughs and puts things back in place. At this time, Billy saw that his hands were small and white, as if they had been soaked in a laboratory vessel, and his nails were painted bright red. If you look closely, it looks like a layer of blood. Billy was still obsessed with the matter of those two people, I'm sure I read it in the newspaper, and I can definitely come up with it after thinking about it a little longer.
Wait a minute, wait Moore Holland, Christopher Moorland is not a boy from Eton College, he hiked through the western countryside. Then suddenly the boy landlady of Eton College disappeared, saying no dear.
Mr. Mooreholland was not an Eton boy at all, he had graduated from Oxford University. Well, don't think about it, sit next to me, closer to the fireplace, warm and warm. He patted the empty seat beside him and looked at Billy with a smile. At this time, Billy had a strange feeling, feeling that the landlady was strange, but he still walked over and sat on the edge of the sofa. The landlady placed the teacup on the tea in front of him. Billy began to take a sip of tea, and he also had a minute or two, and the two of them didn't say a word.
But Billy knew that the woman had been looking at herself, sometimes with the afterglow of her eyes, sometimes blatantly straight, her body facing him as if expressing some kind of longing. From time to time, he saw a strange smell wafting from him, which could not be said to be bad, which made him think, and he couldn't figure out what to associate with, as if it was the smell of disinfectant water in the hospital.
Billy thought like this, but the landlady suddenly spoke, you know? Mr. Hode drank tea so well, I had never seen anyone in my life who could drink tea like Mr. Mooreholland.
