Chapter 7 Chapter VII

After seeing the Scotland Yard police officer card shown, the traffic policeman looked very sorry, but there was nothing he could do.That ticket had already been entered, and the central processor issued a fine notice as usual.Tyler could only stare stupidly at the plastic case on the screen. At this time, Harris had extremely good self-control and didn't say a word.In fact, if it is just because of the police, they can legally invalidate the ticket.But parked next to a cafe two or three kilometers away from the crime scene, or on the bus lane, this situation has to be reimbursed, and there is no door.

"Half for one person," Taylor said finally.He had no intention of changing lanes at all.Anyway, what else can the traffic police do at this time?You can't issue the same ticket again! "What is half for one person?" Harris asked pretending not to know, for fear of hearing the answer he was thinking. "Pay the ticket, what else can it be? We will share the hemorrhage equally, half of each person." "When will passengers be responsible for parking violations? You're the driver, not me." "You made me stop here." "When did I tell you to stop here?"

"You said my boo was gay." "I didn't say that. What I meant was that she was gay, that's not gay." "Of course it does. But she's not! So you'll have to slap your mouth around it." "You should have told me this standard earlier, so I wouldn't have come to that conclusion." Harris seized the opportunity to divert the topic from the parking ticket just now. "Let's go, Bazai, or we'll be late. If the investigation ends early, I'll buy you a big glass and let you tell me about the grand occasion of Scarlett's half-naked night."

Reluctantly, Tyler merged slowly into traffic. "Nothing to say. Once you've seen one half-naked chick, you've seen all the chicks naked." "You put it simply, and I'm not there. Let me tell you, next time you should book the entrance by yourself and go relax a little bit. Order another girl to give you a private dance or something." "I won't tell you, it's not that kind of place." Taylor drove the car behind another long queue. "Then you go on. High-end private club, right?" "Yes. They just don't let people in. You have to be invited."

"What? Someone invited you and Brenda?" "No, I was a member of that store before the new owner took over. They promised to let the existing members continue to enjoy the membership benefits before the expiration. Fortunately, I won the five-year membership in the lottery a few years ago, So I can go in for free, but there are conditions." "What conditions?" "The ones that are usually found in high-end clubs, only for couples or something. I'm afraid it will be filled with pathetic country bumpkins like you, which will lower the style." "No, it's sad that someone has some espionage plot to trick a poor woman into going where she doesn't want to go."

"Whatever you say." "There, look." Harris pointed to the right. "London Fire Brigade forensics van. I'll bet that's it." "The pile of burnt bricks and tiles is also one of the clues. And the cordon must have been pulled up last night." "You know, Bazai, if you and I can't make brilliant achievements in the writing industry, we can at least be great detectives." Grinning, Taylor drove through the passing traffic and pulled up behind the fire investigator's car. "Well, now the great agent will bet you poor bastard that you can't get a toe in Scarlett's door. People like you won't be allowed in that kind of high-class place. "

"Come on, Buzz, you know, you've never won a bet with me." Harris confidently unbuckled his seat belt, "If I'm going in this week, how much do you bet?" "I told you that only members can go in. No one will invite you in." "I'll find a way." "Twenty pounds bet you can't get from the reception to the speakeasy where the beer is served, and if you don't make it by next Wednesday, you owe me twenty bucks." Harris shook his hand. "no problem."