Chapter 10 There Is Indeed Something Wrong

The next morning.

The sound of the engine startled the birds in the mountain forest and they flew away in groups. The snow that hadn't melted in the cold winter was still on the back of the mountain. Peter's eyes were bloodshot, and there was no expression on his face. He kept steering the wheel and shuttled on the winding road.

Since he received the call from Daniel last night, Peter seemed to be a little restless.

The car finally stopped at a shabby sanatorium. The low brick wall was covered with dried vines, whose few leaves were crumpled, shaking in the cold wind. A gust of wind blew, knocking on the slender intertwined branches, making a burst of noise, like countless small bells shaking in the ears.

Peter got out of the car and looked around. He was surprised to find that this old sanatorium was not small, but it was tightly blocked by the trees around. If he didn't look carefully, it would be difficult to find it. He tightened his windbreaker and frowned more tightly.

When he pushed open the rusty iron door, a heavy and dull sound went to his ear. The first thing he saw was a very thick sycamore tree. Some of its branches had already turned into dead trees, and the bark fell off a large area. It was strange that such a remote courtyard was so clean, Peter looked around cautiously. After all, in this deep forest, this building was indeed a little abrupt and gloomy.

"Mr. Bai, you are here." A mellow and low voice came from behind, which caught Peter off guard. .

Peter turned around and saw a middle-aged man walking towards him. The edge of his old woolen coat was rubbed shiny, with a black peaked cap, and a brown file bag in his hand, with a smile in his eyes.

"This is for you." The middle-aged man handed the document to Peter with one hand, and took out a box of crumpled cigarettes from his pocket with the other.

He took out two of them, one in his mouth and the other in his hand for Peter.

Peter shook his hand and continued to pull out the documents from the bag. A yellow photo fell from several pages. He bent over to pick it up and saw two familiar figures in the photo.

Jacob and his father.

The middle-aged man lit a cigarette. The smoke fell on his face along the wind, but his eyes were unable to open. He changed a direction and put his hands into his pockets.

"Do you mean that it was Jacob who cooperated with my father when he was alive?"

"Yes, I got the registration information of your father's company through many channels. Jacob is indeed a partner."

With a cold look in his eyes, Peter flipped through the documents in his hand. Finally, he fixed his eyes on the photo. In the photo, two young men were high spirited and laughed happily.

"This is the photo taken twenty years ago when your father and Jacob won a complete victory in a bidding project. Look, the Bank of China Tower, a landmark building in the River City that was to be built later." The middle-aged man pointed to the open space behind the two people in the photo. The rough hand print seemed to be stained with cigarette ash.

"Of course I know. I saw him jump down from there." Peter said in a sad and trembling voice.

When the landmark building, which was the focus of the city, was completed in cheers, his father fell from the top floor strangely, badly mutilated. The cruel thing was that all these were deeply rooted in the mind of a seven year old boy, like nightmares that could not be erased.

The reporter said that his father died of suicide.

All the news at that time reported that he died of suicide.

He didn't believe, and neither did his mother.

He could always see his father stretching out his arms and squatting there in his dream. It was just a vague shadow. His father was smiling at him

"Come here, Peter. Come to Daddy."

Peter shook his head. He felt a little dizzy after driving for the whole night.

"What about here? Where is this place? " [周瑾] also looked at the low brick house.

"All I can find out now is that your father has been there for a long time."

"Here?" Peter looked down at Daniel suspiciously.

"Yes! Besides, look, there are iron fences on the windows of every room here. I've checked the background of this place. It's called sanatorium, but it's just a mental hospital. " Daniel pointed at a ring of dilapidated brick houses. Most of the iron fences had been rusted and broken, but they could still be seen in their original appearance.

Mental hospital?

There is indeed something wrong.

"Daniel, I don't care what method you use. Please help me track the doctors in this sanatorium. If you want to solve this mystery, you can only do it here." The man's expression was serious, and even the paper in his hand was squeezed out of shape.

"Okay, okay, but it's very difficult. It seems that you have to wait patiently for a period of time. Especially in such a private sanatorium, the identity of the staff is confidential, let alone the identity of the person living here."

"I'm counting on you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Bai. You have to do something practical to get money, or it's not me, Daniel's style of doing things."

Daniel was a Chinese American private detective that Peter got to know abroad. In this dark business, he was an outstanding person. His mysterious style of action and careful thinking were very impressive.

"Call me if anything happens. I have something else to do, so I'm leaving now." Peter left the sanatorium, but his mind was in a mess. There were too many mysteries that had not been solved yet. He looked out of the window. The sun had risen to the top of the mountain, and the cold wind with sand brought by the wheels knocked the window.

The reason why Peter had such an idea was that when he was working in the United States, he occasionally read the newspaper that reported his father's suicide. His mother had read it many times, but now when he read it carefully, he found that it was illogical

His father had always been cheerful and optimistic. Why did he commit suicide without any reason?

With a successful career and a happy family, Peter couldn't find any reason for his father to commit suicide.

Conspiracy was the only possibility.

In the apartment, Lily woke up from her sleep. She walked to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She looked up at herself in the mirror.

Her black hair hung straight to her waist, and her small face was bloodless. At the thought of what happened last night, a burst of agitation surged up in Lily's heart.

"Lily, forget him. That man has nothing to do with you." She pointed the toothbrush in her hand at herself in the mirror, with a firm look in her eyes.

Ding Dong!

The doorbell rang, and Lily hurriedly washed away the bubbles around her mouth.

When she opened the door, Joe, with two breakfasts in his hands, burst into laughter, but soon froze.

"Did you meet a ghost last night? Why do you look like this? Don't go out to frighten others later. " Joe entered the room, looking at Lily who looked haggard with disgust.

"Yes, I met you." Lily closed the door, shook her head and looked at the man who was placing breakfast at the table.

"What? Why are you so kind-hearted today? Why are you here to feed me?" Lily pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I have always been so kind." Without raising his head, Joe scooped up the porridge in his bowl and put it into his mouth.

"Always? What about you when you are not? "