Chapter 076: Sorge’s New Information

Back at home, as usual, they checked everything carefully.

"Hmph, your reasoning was off! They came out through the back door and made me kill only the driver!" Once home, Fujiwara Mio was still feeling unsatisfied and teased Chen Jiehua for getting the deduction wrong.

"Reasoning is still only reasoning. We also failed to think that there was an observation post on the third floor opposite! And we never expected them to send out a little spy to take a look, did we?"

"Luckily the comrades were sharp. When the little spy came out, no one moved; otherwise, today we would probably have come back empty-handed."

"Mio, let's go over it again. If we had switched places, could you have understood what the little spy's action meant? After checking outside and confirming it was safe, he did not return. Instead, he held up one hand at the alley entrance."

"That raised hand had a very clear meaning: it was a signal to whoever was watching in secret. Where was the watcher? Judging from the line of sight and the angle, most likely on the rooftop of number 43. At that point, you had to use the night light to find him!"

"Because at that moment, if the third-floor lookout had a rifle and could shoot well, he would pose a huge threat to the comrades! So the first thing to eliminate after the gunfire was the lookout!"

"Fortunately, today was the eleventh day of the lunar month, with enough moonlight. If it had been the first day of the month, or an overcast night with no moonlight, that would have been troublesome. We would have had to estimate the other side's hiding place from the layout of the rooftop. So Bai Xin was doomed today! Choosing the middle of the month was fate as well."

"Of course, we were lucky the little spy was a beginner. If we'd run into a top-level operative, then even with moonlight, our running back and forth between numbers 31 and 61 would all have been seen. Shadows do not lie."

After reviewing everything, Chen Jiehua gave himself a warning as well: on any mission, at any time, against any opponent, he had to give it his all. He had to consider the environment and never be careless. This time had only been luck. What about next time?

At nine the following morning, Aoki Sho and Fujiwara Mio went again to Xiangfei Road and Hehe Lane as Japanese homebuyers, preparing to finalize the house they intended to purchase.

When the two arrived at the entrance of Hehe Lane, the gate was already blocked by cordons, with police constables maintaining order.

Chen Jiehua and Fujiwara Mio stood by the roadside, listening to the people inside and nearby gossiping excitedly, and confirmed that nine people had died, while one woman and the driver were critically injured.

That settled it. The driver and the woman had nothing to do with the target. As long as the target was confirmed dead, that was enough.

"Mio, there's been a murder here, so many people have died? This house is unlucky. Let's not buy it after all. Let's look somewhere else!"

Just as they were about to turn away, Chen Jiehua, whose eyesight was astonishingly sharp, spotted a familiar figure near the cordon: a foreign reporter!

Damn it. Why are you everywhere?

What Chen Jiehua saw in the crowd was naturally the ever-entangled Sorg. Sorg also saw the Aoki couple.

The two of them followed behind Sorg and arrived one after another at the Cathay Hotel on the Bund.

The Cathay Hotel was built in the Chicago School Gothic style, newly completed and extravagantly luxurious, so only foreign guests could enter. Chen Jiehua brought Fujiwara Mio, showed their papers, and found Sorg in a private booth.

Whenever Chen Jiehua came to a new place, he habitually checked first for listening devices. Across from him, Sorg shook his head and then nodded, meaning he had already checked.

"Mr. Aoki, long time no see."

From Aoki Sho's attire and the attendant's address at the entrance, Sorg determined that Chen Jiehua was still using the Japanese identity of Aoki Sho. He himself spoke in German, signaling to Aoki Sho that he should address him by his German identity, displaying the professionalism of a top international agent.

"Mr. Alexander Johnson?"

Aoki Sho caught the signal. It was German, though he was still not entirely certain, so he softly asked in German. The other man nodded.

"I am now a special correspondent for the German Food Gazette."

"A reporter for the German Food Gazette, and what were you doing on Xiangfei Road? The dead had nothing to do with your food, did they?"

"Ah, as a gentleman of the East with standing, you should possess enough aristocratic refinement. I have not yet finished speaking; I am also a contributing writer for a German sociology journal."

"Mr. Alexander Johnson certainly keeps himself busy."

"I imagine Mr. Aoki has not been idle in Shanghai either."

"Indeed I have not. I opened a pharmacy, the Aoki Chain Drugstore, on Jing'an Temple Road." That was Chen Jiehua's signal to Sorg: that's my pharmacy, it's one of ours; if anything happens, you can look for me there.

"What I'm referring to is not only that. The police forensic firearms expert found a seven-millimeter rifle bullet in the head of one driver, a Garand, Warsaw." At last Sorg understood: that unusual gunshot sound had been from a Garand semi-automatic rifle.

Sorg had only wanted to figure out the gunshot; curiosity lives in everyone. But he had no intention of delving into where Chen Jiehua kept his rifle.

After all, they were real friends, and both times the rifle had been used to help him.

Sorg hinted to Chen Jiehua that the police had already discovered the bullet, a special kind of round. At present, only the Garand used this kind of seven-millimeter ammunition, and his mention of Warsaw out of nowhere meant: I know this was your handiwork. The police have taken notice. You need to hide it well, and be careful if you use it again.

Chen Jiehua caught Sorg's hint and was shaken. This was only 1929, and the police already had firearms experts? That was outrageous. And it had only been ten hours at most since then!

It seemed he would have to switch guns. In Shanghai, he could no longer use the Garand. At the very least, until the Garand had entered Shanghai, he himself could not use it anymore.

"Also, the firearms expert found traces of a left-handed pistol on all three bodies," Sorg added.

A left-handed pistol? Who in the organization was left-handed? He had never paid attention to that. That really was a problem, and Zhao Shiyu had to be reminded as soon as possible!

Sorg was telling Chen Jiehua all this clearly to help him, and naturally he had no intention of reporting it to the police.

"Mr. Johnson, if I need you later on, where can I find you?"

"Oh, don't you have your Eastern mysticism? Look, when you need me, I'll appear before you!" Having conveyed the information, Sorg felt the urge to spar with Chen Jiehua again.

Fujiwara Mio had long since grown used to the two of them bantering. Those two weeks from Warsaw to Moscow, fleeing all the way, had been hard and exhausting, yet because the two men kept trading barbs, the journey had somehow remained cheerful. Now she felt as if she had returned to those days, and an inexplicable happiness filled her heart. She smiled sweetly at Sorg across from her.

From Fujiwara Mio's smile, Sorg felt again the beauty of that friendship from long ago, and could not help but smile back at the two of them.

Chen Jiehua rolled his eyes at Sorg. He was not in the mood to bicker with him, nor did he have time to watch him smile.

"Will this place do?"

"It's too expensive here. I only arrived in Shanghai the day before yesterday, so this is merely a temporary lodging. My funds cannot support a long stay here."

So what you're saying is, you're short of money.