Chapter 31 Chapter Thirty-One

Puller estimates the building to be about 1,400 square meters.The central main building, which connects the two wings, has the shape of a cathedral in Paris flying in and crashing down on this remote location in West Virginia.This mansion on Trent was built on top of a slope.There is apparently no coal beneath it, since the surface here has not been damaged in any way.The road leading to the summit is paved with large cobblestones.Wrought iron railings about two meters high surround the territory, and a gate is set up at the entrance, guarded by armed guards.The guard seemed to Puller to be a long-retired policeman, fat and slow, but still capable of shooting at short range.

Cole slowed down.Puller asked her: "Gates and guards. Trent insecure?" "Like I said, coal mining companies have never been popular, at least in the coal-producing areas. I'm sure they have a much better reputation in places where there are no coal mines and no hills to be leveled than here." The doorman must have known of their visit in advance, for he opened the door without saying a word and waved them through. "Fortunately, we don't have to kill this guy," Puller said, "hired police officers are prone to doing things that actively seek death."

"He's just following Trent's orders, like most people here." "Is there something else in your words?" "I'm saying most people listen to Trent, not everyone, and I'm definitely not one of them," she said. From a distance, this mansion seems to be twice as big as it looks from a distance.The maid in housekeeping uniform opened the front door, and Pooler vaguely expected her to curtsey.She was a slender young Asian woman with black hair pulled back neatly into a braid.She guided them through a long, wide corridor.The log-paneled corridors were professionally hung with large portraits, and for a moment Puller thought he was in a memorial.The floor is tumbled marble with psychedelic colors.Cole's police boots clicked on the ground.Puller's military combat boot cancels out any sound of footsteps landing because it's designed to do so.

Puller said to Kerr, "I remember you saying he was rich. I thought he'd live in a better place than here." Cole seemed unimpressed by his humor, didn't respond at all, just walked straight ahead.They passed a staircase.Puller looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a teenage girl staring at him from the top of the stairs.The little girl had a round face, blushing cheeks, and long, disheveled but shiny golden hair.In an instant, she disappeared from Puller's view. "Has Trent any children?" "Two. A girl in her teens and a boy who just turned eleven."

"I guess their father and mother are not yet of age to enjoy social security." "Trent is forty-seven, and his wife is thirty-eight." "I'm glad they still have enough time to enjoy their wealth." "Oh, they're enjoying it." The maid opened a door and motioned for them to enter.She closed the door behind them.Puller could hear her timid footsteps pattering down the corridor. The walls are upholstered in dark green fabrics.The floors are in cherry wood with a matt finish and are partly covered by two square oriental rugs.Chairs and sofas are upholstered in leather.Curtains block out most of the sunlight.The bronze-colored chandelier held so many bulbs that it looked like it weighed a ton.In the middle of the room stood a large table with a large bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase.There are more paintings on the walls, they look old, original and worth a lot.

Style and taste are everywhere.There must be a pair of discerning eyes, Puller thought, that put it all together so well. "Have you been here before?" "Been here a few times, all socially. The Trents do a lot of parties." "So they invite working-class people like us to the party?" Before Cole could answer, the door opened.They both turned to look. Roger Trent was 1.85m tall.He's clearly in the process of rapidly eating himself into a fat man.He had a thick neck, a double chin, and a waist that was too thick to be concealed by a well-tailored suit.The room was air-conditioned, but his face was sweating.

Maybe the corridor was too long, Pooler thought. "Hi, Roger," Cole said, extending a hand to him. Puller glanced at her, which she ignored. Call Roger? Trent snarled, "I can't stand this, you know?" "Well, getting death threats is pretty serious." The coal magnate glanced at Puller. "What do you do?" "This is Puller, Special Investigator of the Army Criminal Investigation Department, from Virginia." Cole explained hastily. Puller held out a hand, too. "Nice to meet you, Roger." He casts a well-timed glance at Cole, and she grimaces.

The two men shook hands, and Pooler almost believed he had just held a slimy, clammy fish when he withdrew his hand. "Death threats?" Puller asked. "How do they scare you?" "Call up." "Maybe you just happened to record their call?" Cole asked. Trent looked down at her. "Only when you don't answer the phone, it will automatically record the other party's voice." He sat down in a chair himself, but did not invite them to take a seat. "We can try to trace those calls," Kerr said. "I have asked my subordinates to check."

"result?" "They were all made with disposable phone cards." "Well, how many times have they threatened you? When? What phone did they call?" "Three calls. In the first three nights, they were all around ten o'clock. They were all on my mobile phone." Puller asked, "Does your phone show a number?" "Of course." "Do you answer even if it's a number you don't recognize?" "I have a lot of business dealings in other places, even abroad. For me, it is not unusual for me to answer calls from such unknown numbers at inappropriate times."

"How many people know your private cell phone number?" Cole asked. Trent shrugged. "I can't explain it. I don't tell people the number casually, but I never treat it as a secret." "What did they say in the threatening calls?" "Say what my end is, and they will see justice done." "Is this their exact words? Do they say it every time?" "Well, I don't know if it's verbatim, but that's the main idea," he added impatiently. "The phone said 'they' will see justice done? Does that mean there's more than one person?" Puller asked.

"That's what they say." "Is the voice a man or a woman?" "I'd say it's a man." "Have you ever been intimidated before?" Puller asked again. Trent looked at Cole. "A few times." "Is it the same as this time? I mean, was it also this man's voice?" "Those threats in the past weren't made over the phone." "Then how was it threatened?" Cole interrupted them. "We investigated it at the time, and we have dealt with it." Puller stared at her carefully for a moment, then said to Trent, "Why do you think they're trying to scare you?" Trent stood up and shouted at Cole: "Why did you let this guy come here? I thought you came alone." "We're investigating a homicide together." "I know that. I've heard it from Bill Strauss. But what does that damned murder have to do with my business?" "Well, one of your employees, Molly Pitra, was also killed." "Still, I don't see any connection here. Also, now that she's dead, it's hard for me to believe she's still the one who terrorized me." "Have you ever met her?" "I don't even remember seeing one. I can't even tell what department she worked in. I wouldn't reduce myself to dealing with employees at their level." Puller resisted the urge to knock him down with a punch. "You have many departments, right?" "There are some." Cole said, "Roger, someone fired mines on a construction site not far from the murder site on Sunday night. Why did they fire on Sunday and at night? You need a special permit to do this." He looked at Cole with an incredulous expression. "How do I know? It's not me who arranges the blasting. I pay someone else to take care of these things." "Yes, it is. Then who knows about such things?" "Strauss should know." "I think we'll talk to Strauss," Puller said. Trent looked at Cole and said, "I want you to solve my problem, okay?" "I'll find out, Roger," she went on curtly, "but, as you may not know, I've got a lot of murders on my hands." Roger ignored her words. "I hate when people keep making me a target just because I've been unbelievably successful. It's pure jealousy and I'm fed up with it. Drake still exists today just because of me." .I'm the only one offering jobs here. Those good-for-nothing idiots should worship me." Puller said, "Yes, I'm sure you've had a hard time, Mr. Trent." Trent looked displeased. "It can be seen at a glance that you do not have the strength and quality needed to build a wealth kingdom. All living beings do not have this kind of strength and quality. In this world, a few people have everything, and the rest Most people have nothing. The problem is, those who have nothing don’t want to work hard and feel that everything should be given to them for free.” Puller said, "Exactly, sir. There are so many lazy, penniless guys out here in the Middle East right now. They're living comfortably out there on taxpayer money like you. " Trent blushed. "I'm not talking about them, of course not. I'm the strongest supporter of our military." "Of course, sir." "Now, if you will forgive me, I have to catch a flight." "From Charleston?" Puller asked. "It's not close." "Here's my private jet." "OK." Trent slammed the door and went out. Pooler looked at Cole and asked, "Is he always this 'pleasant'?" "He has always been him." "Have you encountered death threats in the past? Have you done an investigation? Have you found out who did it?" "The investigation into that matter is over. And he's right, you really had nothing to do with it." "You invited me here." "I shouldn't have done that." "Are you afraid of this guy?" "Don't say that, Pooler," she snapped. The door opened. Not the maid.Not Roger Trent.Not the teenage girl Pooler had just seen.A woman in her thirties came in.She is slender, with dark hair, and a bright and delicate face that is too perfect to be real.Her clothes were simple in style, but obviously expensive in fabric.Her demeanor is full of confidence, and her eyes seem to see everything. Puller thought he had seen eyes like these. He looked at Cole, then at the woman, then at Cole again. Cole said, "Are you all right, Jen?" Jane Trent replied, "I am very well. How are you, sister?"