The open chest mainly contained clothes made of decent fabric, with a few books tucked inside. On the side lay a small silver liquor bottle, a pocket watch, and several black-and-white photographs; the person in the photos was Jonathan Lemere.
This was the first time Shade had seen a photograph of a deceased crew member.
The lawyer explained
"Mr. Lemere hoped that if he died of illness and a body remained, Mrs. Lemere, as the recipient of the inheritance, would arrange his funeral. If he died in a shipwreck with no body, Mrs. Lemere would need to purchase a grave locally and bury the photograph inside to ensure his soul would not be lost at sea."
This was a superstition among sailors; they believed that if there was no grave after death, the soul would be trapped at the bottom of the ocean forever along with the body.
"No problem."
Mrs. Lemere's eyes were slightly red. Shade stepped in again to help check the belongings. He merely skimmed through the clothes, but to his surprise, Jonathan Lemere had a habit of keeping a diary every few days. There were five notebooks in total, every page densely packed with records of trivial matters at sea.
"Jonathan Lemere was surprisingly well-educated," Shade whispered in astonishment. The handwriting in the notebooks was far better than his own, well-organized, and contained very few spelling errors.
"Uncle Lemere used to go to school. Later, he offended the local sheriff, which is why he went to the coast to make a living. He was a very good man; he used to read storybooks to us when we were children," Mrs. Lemere explained with a sob.
"Indeed. For the sake of this business, I exchanged several letters with Mr. Lemere's friend who held the will. According to his description, Mr. Jonathan Lemere was a rare man of culture among the crew. It was because of this that he was able to accumulate so much wealth in Coldwater Harbor as an outsider in just ten short years. His friend spoke very highly of him."
As the lawyer spoke, Shade had already flipped open the diaries. The notebook recording the events of the last few months had been buried at sea with Mr. Lemere; the most recent one here dated back half a year.
While browsing, Shade discovered that in addition to the Delarion language, there were words from Kasenrick mixed in. Occasionally, even more obscure languages appeared, and even ancient tongues.
After translating the text written in the margins, the meaning was roughly
【Today is the third month since becoming a Ring Caster. I have decided to rent a small house in Coldwater Harbor to hide my spellcasting materials and books...】
Shade closed the notebook with a *snap*. His expression remained unchanged, but his hand subconsciously tightened its grip on the book.
The fact that Lemere was a Ring Caster had not even been revealed to the warehouse dispatcher with whom he conducted illegal business, and among the inheritance before him, there were no items related to Ring Casting.
The date of the diary entry he had just seen was from two years ago, in the autumn of the Common Calendar year 1851. If the diary was not a forgery and Mr. Lemere's safe house was still in its original place, it meant that in some house in Coldwater Harbor, there were the unclaimed relics of a Ring Caster.
Ring Casters must have organizations, but a safe house for personal belongings would likely not be disclosed to others. In other words...
Shade now had another reason to go to Coldwater Harbor.
"These are also fine."
Stabilizing his emotions, Shade placed the notebooks back into the chest and nodded to Mrs. Lemere.
"All the inheritance to be transferred is here. Please confirm once more. If everything is in order, please sign this document to confirm you have received all the items listed in the inventory."
The lawyer handed over another document and added, "Of course, a thumbprint is also acceptable."
"I will write my name," the middle-aged woman said softly.
Shade helped read the document requiring the signature, while the lawyer explained the parts that could easily be misunderstood. Once it was confirmed that everything was correct, Mrs. Lemere took the fountain pen and signed her name with a very awkward grip, confirming that the inheritance had been fully received.
She likely did not write often; her letters were even uglier than Shade's.
"Finally, the legal fees, as per our agreed method. A portion will be paid by you directly to the Tobesk Bar Association, and the other portion directly to me—1 pound and 3 shillings to facilitate tax avoidance."
Lawyer Laurel nodded apologetically, and Mrs. Lemere took some banknotes from the cash before her and handed them to him.
The lawyer glanced at Shade. Seeing him sitting there motionless, he knew that this middle-aged woman, who had suddenly acquired a large sum of wealth, must have promised a significant reward to keep the detective so diligent and conscientious. Although curious about the detective's income for this job, he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and bid farewell with professional courtesy
"Mrs. Lemere, you have my contact information. Detective, here is my business card. If you have any legal needs in the future, you can come to me directly. Do not go through the Bar Association; those bloodsuckers take too high a cut. This doesn't count as taking private jobs."
He winked at Shade while saying the last part. Shade nodded understandingly, knowing that the local legal profession was not as free as the detective profession.
Subsequently, Shade also handed over his business card.
Lawyer Laurel took it, glanced at it, and looked up in surprise
"I thought the photo in the newspaper last time looked familiar, and then there was the surname Hamilton. So you are the one in the paper..."
He smiled, choosing not to say the title "Hamilton of Reged"
"I see. Mrs. Lemere, you truly found the right person. This Detective Hamilton is indeed very reliable."
After speaking to the somewhat confused middle-aged woman, he tucked the card into the breast pocket of his white shirt
"Detective Hamilton of St. Delan Square, I'll keep the card. If I encounter a troublesome client in the future, I might seek your help. After all, there is a considerable possibility for detectives and lawyers to cooperate."
He shook hands with Shade, bid a polite farewell to Mrs. Lemere, and then, carrying his briefcase with his coat draped over his arm, left the place quite dashingly. This appearance was completely different from the Rhode card player he had met at the tavern last time.
Perhaps people become addicted to Rhode cards, but there are not a few who can reasonably control their desires. In this noisy and frenetic era, Rhode cards, alcohol, and cigarettes—perhaps even more things—tempt people to deviate from a normal life path, but even ordinary people can avoid being swallowed by the darkness through good self-discipline and habits.
Perhaps only such people deserve a decent and affluent life.
(End of Chapter)