Russell had appeared behind her without her noticing. The distance between them instantly closed.
Charlotte's shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly.
In that instant, her body reacted before her brain. Like a small animal suddenly startled, she tensed slightly and her shoulders stiffened.
But she did not turn around or step back. She simply stood motionless before the information wall.
"When did you arrive?"
She could always perceive everything around her and deduce what had happened from the slightest sounds.
But what about those few seconds—or minutes?
She had been completely absorbed in her thoughts and had lost all awareness of the surrounding world.
Charlotte thought for a brief moment, then unconsciously took half a step back, widening the distance between them.
"Why do you walk without making a sound?"
She turned around and looked at him with a deliberately displeased expression, trying to hide her momentary agitation.
"You were concentrating too hard."
Russell shrugged and stared at her face for a while.
"You don't look very energetic."
He asked worriedly, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
Charlotte said in a calm voice.
"So, what were you thinking about just now?"
Russell asked.
"Clement Street No. 27."
She said.
Clement Street No. 27?
Russell furrowed his brows as though remembering something.
"Isn't that Hannigan's mansion?"
"Mm."
Charlotte nodded.
"Is there anything unusual about this place?"
Russell asked.
"After Hannigan died, it became a haunted house. Everyone left."
"You're not suspecting that Billson is living inside, are you?"
When he finished speaking, the two fell silent.
Charlotte raised her head and met Russell's gaze.
These words acted like a key, clicking into place in her mind.
"It's impossible."
She said, "Why not?"
Charlotte countered with a question, excitement from sudden realization seeping into her voice.
The eyes that had been somewhat vacant from confused thoughts seemed to regain their sparkle.
"Why is it impossible?"
She repeated it once more, then turned and faced the information wall again, pointing at the address.
"Billson might be living here!"
"This is…" Russell was surprised by her sudden reaction. "Weren't we excluding Southwark from the candidates from the beginning?"
"At that time, we were all trapped by the wrong perception of preconceptions."
Charlotte gradually grew more excited, appearing to have regained her composure.
She stepped forward and pointed at the circled area representing Southwark on the map.
"You said he's now penniless and has to live off Emily Collins's meager savings, right?"
"Yes."
Russell nodded.
After asking the question, Russell felt as though he had vaguely grasped something, but seeing Charlotte's excited state, he ultimately decided to play the straight man.
If the child is happy, just leave it be.
"What kind of place is the Southwark district?"
Charlotte drew a circle on the map with her finger.
"This is the most prestigious area in the entire Southwark district. Rent is exorbitantly high, and police officers are everywhere."
"Do you think Billson could find a safe hiding place here without anyone noticing?"
"Impossible."
Russell shook his head.
"That's right."
A smile appeared on Charlotte's lips. "This is the misconception we fell into at the very beginning."
She said.
"If you can't afford to rent a new apartment, why not move into a ready-to-live-in, absolutely safe house instead?"
"Could it be that..."
"The most dangerous place is the safest place."
Charlotte's voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet room it rang out with particular clarity, carrying an aura of all-seeing certainty.
"Hannigan's mansion is now a haunted house. It has remained empty ever since his death."
There were no owners or servants, and the neighbors hadn't noticed anyone coming and going—because everyone on the street wanted to stay as far away from that haunted house as possible.
Even Scotland Yard officers, after completing their on-site investigation, had simply stuck a couple of simple seals on the gate and left.
It's an empty house now. A house that no one approaches, avoided like a plague.
The more she spoke, the more excited she became, her speaking speed increasing.
"Clement Street No. 27, three stories with a basement."
"Even if the main entrance is sealed, it's no problem. Emily Collins worked here for many years—she must know the location of the back entrance, right?"
While Charlotte spoke, her gaze returned to Russell's face. Her gray-blue eyes shone with excitement.
This is how she should be.
This was her area of expertise.
"Until it is confirmed that there are no heirs at all, this mansion will not be formally transferred to the Royal Property Management Bureau."
The government will then decide whether to auction it, rent it out, or use it for public purposes.
This period will take at least several weeks, possibly several months.
Therefore, the house provided him with sufficient space and time to hide.
There were beds prepared, and Hannigan's hidden wine and cigars were still there.
The kitchen and basement storage still contained plenty of food sufficient to fill one's stomach.
She spoke while pacing back and forth on the carpet with arms crossed.
"Billson can hide here, and Emily Collins, being familiar with the area, can come and go freely."
Furthermore, since Lestrade's subordinates are mainly deployed in places like Bermondsey, this area only has very basic patrol officers who might know nothing about Emily Collins's situation.
She could apply for work at one of the nearby mansions and use that job to smuggle items into Hannigan's mansion.
"In other words, Billson is currently at Hannigan's mansion?"
Russell continued asking.
"Eighty percent."
Charlotte said.
"What about the remaining twenty percent?"
"The remaining twenty percent depends on whether he's still alive when we arrive."
"Wait, are we going now?"
Russell raised one eyebrow.
"I thought you were going to leave it to Lestrade."
"I might have done that before, but not now."
Charlotte said.
"Why?"
Russell asked.
"I have to find something to calm myself down."
"So..."
"That's why this time, it's just the two of us."
There was no room for argument in Charlotte's tone.
"Watson, the long-awaited business trip time has arrived."
"Now?"
Russell glanced out the window. It was already beginning to get dark.
"Is there anything else? By the time Lestrade arrives with his men, Billson will either be dead or have escaped."
Charlotte glanced at him, then walked to the coat rack and unhesitatingly put on her thick black coat.
"Let me ask one question," Russell said helplessly as he watched Charlotte's impatient state.
"You do know you have class tomorrow, right?"
"..."
"Right?"
…
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