Chapter 159 Landlord
Louis continued:
"Those three things, I will have someone send them to the 'Golden Rooster Hotel' later."
"How much?" Lumian planned to give Louis a little extra hard work.
Louis shook his head:
"The baron said you don't have to pay, if you improve your strength, our Savoyard Party will improve its strength."
Without Baron Brignel's special explanation, Louis could see that he was buying people's hearts, anyway, it was less than 10 Felkin.
According to the baron's statement, I can also ask him to reimburse me for the materials I need to be promoted to "arsonist" in the future? Lumian scolded.
Louis took a sip of the pomegranate soda and saw a group of people walking in at the door of the Breeze Ballroom.
The leader is very tall, over 1.9 meters, with short and soft yellow hair, close to the head, like the surface of high-end flannel.
He had a big nose, light blue eyes, a pitted face, extremely rough skin, and wore a tightly tied black formal suit and a wide-brimmed round hat.
Louis's expression gradually became serious, he put down the soda bottle in his hand and said to Lumian:
"I got the baron."
At this time, the tall and stout man in his thirties led several entourage suspected of being gangster thugs into the staircase and headed towards the café.
"What is that?" Lumian did not hide his curiosity and doubts.
Louis stood up and explained casually:
"Simon, the 'giant' who manages several dance halls on Nightingale Street."
"Isn't he also from our Savoyard Party?" Lumian asked.
Louis nodded:
"But he didn't have a very good relationship with the baron, and he kept saying that since the baron was in charge of the usury business, he should hand over the Breeze Ballroom.
"I went up, and I don't know what he's here for."
Louis took two steps and saw Lumian sitting motionless at the bar out of the corner of his eye.
He couldn't help but sigh in his heart:
"I don't know how to seize the opportunity at all, shouldn't I take the initiative to follow me up and stand next to the baron at this time? If Simon really said something unpleasant, he would stare at him and point a gun at him, so that the baron would slowly trust you.
"Well, although he is ruthless, crazy enough, and strong, he is still a country boy who doesn't understand anything."
Of course, Lumian really wants to go up to the second floor and go to the café to maintain the pomp for Baron Brignel, and Louis will also refuse him, after all, the baron and the "giant" Simon are likely to talk about some more confidential matters within the Savoyard party, which is not suitable for a new person to listen to.
Lumian was thinking at this time:
"There are also many conflicts within the Sava Party......
"If Baron Brignel and Simon the 'Giant' break out and one dies, and the boss behind the scenes wants to find someone strong enough to shake the scene to inherit their position, then wouldn't I have a chance? At that time, as long as I can pass the test, I will complete Mr. K's task.
"Except for those leaders, there should be no one else within the Sava Party who can kill Magot alone......
"The question now is, how can I keep Baron Brignel and 'Giant' Simon from doubting me......"
In the blink of an eye, Lumian asked for a glass of absinthe.
Before he could finish drinking the dreamy green liquid, he saw the "giant" Simon coming out of the staircase with his men, his face tight.
Doesn't look very happy...... Lumian nodded and retracted his gaze.
He was in no hurry to put the idea into practice, because he still knew too little about the Savoyard Party.
In the evening, as soon as Lumian returned to the "Golden Rooster Hotel", Mrs. Firth, who was sitting at the front desk, stood up and said to him:
"Mr. Eve is here, waiting for you in the restaurant on the first floor, by the window."
Yes, it came quite quickly...... Lumian nodded lightly and walked into the small restaurant on the other side of the lobby.
Mr. Eve had long heard people describe Charles' peculiar and fashionable hair color, and as soon as he saw him walk into the restaurant, he stood up with a smile on his face:
"Mr. Charles, here."
He was a man of nearly fifty years, his blonde hair had been partially dyed white, and he was combed quite neatly, he was wearing a dark formal suit that had been washed until it had turned white and a pair of maroon duffed trousers, his eyes were blue, there was no cloudiness, and he had a relatively sparse beard on his face.
Glancing at the cane leaning next to the dining table, Lumian walked over with a smile:
"Good evening, Mr. Eff."
After the two sides were seated, Eve signaled that the waiter could serve.
"I'm sorry, I've been too busy lately, and I didn't come to visit you until today." Efman said apologetically.
His accent is a standard Trier accent.
Lumian deliberately asked rhetorically:
"You don't have more than this hotel under your name?"
Otherwise, what are you busy with?
Eve was speechless for a moment, but he didn't expect that the other party couldn't hear that he was saying polite words.
He hesitated:
"There are some other businesses, but not much, not much."
While the two were chatting, the waiter brought dinner, one for each person:
Bean chowder, pork sausage, fenerport rice, and a thin sauce poured over a fifth of the plate.
"This is their special meat sauce." Eve introduced quite enthusiastically.
Just order these? Lumian has a new understanding of the landlord's stinginess.
He didn't care too much about this, so he ate the sauce with a hint of meaty aroma, pepper, and a certain vinegar taste.
After a few dozen seconds, Lumian raised his head and asked Mr. Eve with a smile:
"With your stinginess, why are you willing to give each room some sulfur?"
He deliberately did not use the more kind word "frugality", and his tone was full of mockery.
Mr. Eff's face sank instinctively, and he didn't look very happy.
He immediately restrained his emotions and showed a bitter smile:
"There are too many bed bugs in the hotel, and no one will live there without additional sulfur."
Really? As long as the price is cheap enough, the poor ghosts who are short of money don't care if there are bed bugs at all...... Lumian casually cut a piece of sausage and put it in his mouth.
He chewed for a while before saying:
"Why not hire two regular cleaning handymen to clean every day? That will effectively reduce the number of bed bugs."
"Two regular cleaning handymen earn 130 to 150 Felkin a month, while a big cleaning a week only costs 18 Felkin." Mr. Eff spoke distressedly.
Lumian smiled:
"I mean, why don't you do your own cleaning handyman and bring your children?"
That could even save 18 Felkin per week.
Mr. Eff showed an expression of excitement, as if he thought it was a good idea.
After more than ten seconds, he sighed and said:
"It's a pity, I have other things to do with them."
What's the matter? Lumian didn't ask more.
He has already determined that this is a pure miser.
Mr. Eve glanced at Lumian and said deliberately:
"I used to give Margot 20 Felkin a week, what day do you want it?"
Lumian sneered:
"You don't need to give it to me, just do a big cleaning once a week."
Mr. Eff was slightly stunned, but did not object, after all, the cleanup only cost 18 Felkin, and if it was done twice a week, it could still be bargained.
Lumian finished eating the food on his plate and asked instead:
"Do you know where the tenant went before 504?"
He was referring to the posting of Susanna in Charlie's room. The guy in Matisse's portrait is said to be a frequent visitor to Rue de la Wall, Rue Breda, and Rue Nightingale, but later moved out for some reason.
Lumian had asked Mrs. Firth about this before, but did not get any answer, after all, Mrs. Firth only cared about whether she had paid enough rent and whether she had damaged the things in the room, and did not care where the tenants went afterwards.
Mr. Eve was stunned for a moment, looked at the rest of the food on the plate and said,
"I don't know who you are referring to, I rarely come to the hotel, I don't know which room lives which person."
This reaction ...... It was like a little guilty conscience...... Lumian moved his eyebrows slightly, didn't ask any more questions, and watched Mr. Eff eat the plate cleanly, leaving not a single grain of rice or a drop of sauce left.
When Mr. Eve left, he walked out of the hotel after nearly twenty seconds, with the landlord in the distance.
He followed all the way to the middle of Market Avenue and watched Mr. Eff enter a beige six-story apartment building.
Judging from some details that Mrs. Firth usually mentioned, this should be Mr. Eff's home.
Lumian was not in a hurry to come to the door to "visit", after all, it is more convenient to do some things in the dead of night, and he is not sure whether the official extraordinary people are still tracking down Susanna. Matisse's matter, whether he also wants to find some clues from Mr. Eff, at that time, it will be embarrassing if the two sides collide.
In that case, Lumian could only quickly find a nearby "ground crack" and get in.
Under the light of the bright yellow street lights, he walked around the apartment where Mr. Eve lived, observing his surroundings.
What impressed Lumian the most was that diagonally opposite the apartment, on the other side of Market Avenue, there was a renovated brick-red three-story building.
It has a pillar-supported foyer with a sign hanging above:
"Old Pigeon Cage Theater".
At this time, people kept pouring in, and there was occasional applause and music inside, making it quite lively.
As far as Lumian knew, this is a low-ticket theater for civilians, which is the kind of unqualified opponent in the honest market area.
It is a high-quality place that can be used to get rid of tracking...... Lumian recalled the stories that happened in the theater in various novels, and smiled as he crossed the street and entered the foyer of the old pigeon cage theater.
There are posters depicting plays that are being performed or are about to be staged, as well as a few classic moments from the past.
Lumian, who was investigating how to use the theater, stood there, looking at the photos, drawings, and texts seriously.
Suddenly, he saw a familiar face on a poster in a corner:
A certain dragon blonde who acted as a background board was much whiter, his eyes were blue, and his beard was sparse, it was Mr. Eff who he had been following just now!
(End of this chapter)