Surviving as a Writer in the British Empire

The Dartmoor Disappearance Case (3)

Dartmoor. It is a place name that often appears in British literature.

And each time it is expressed in this way.

‘The Wasteland’.

Of course, on the face of it, this expression is wrong.

Green pastures stretched out endlessly, and wild horses roamed, although not to the level of fame, and occasionally you could see shepherds wandering around with their flocks in search of stars.

But let’s not be fooled.

It’s not that people who know enough to know translated the land as a wasteland.

The only thing that can grow on the brown earth that you thought was pasture is really tough and tough weeds. It is a grass that is difficult for people to eat, but only artiodactyls with strong stomachs eat.

What kind of landscape will unfold when this land meets the unique warm and humid climate of England?

“Wow…”

Monty unknowingly let out a shrill exclamation. I looked out the car window with Monty.

An endless dark red wilderness. A dark green field that tumbles over it. Beyond the low forest, a gloomy gray hill rises.

The jagged, shallow hills were swept away by the seasonal rain, exposing all of their skin, and above them, gloomy dark clouds, symbolizing the British Isle of Winter, swayed in a wet wind.

The wagon carrying Monty and I eventually reached the top of the rocky uphill road.

Looking down from there, the topography of the basin, hollowed out between the rocky mountains, was revealed.

There is a wetland in it.

A place where nutrients swept down from the mountains are gathered, and it is easy for plants to grow. Forests of coniferous trees such as oak trees and fir trees that grow in clusters are scattered here and there.

And in the center, as if it were a demon king’s castle, a huge mansion rose.

The Carlyle family’s mansion, the Stapleton Mansion.

Anyway, it was also our destination.

“By the way, Hanseul, why are you holding the auction at the original owner’s house?”

Oh, good question.

As our little owner, Monty Miller, said, it is a rule to set up a separate auction house for the original auction.

However, the principle is bound to sometimes run into realistic situations.

that’s right

“There is no auction house in Exeter.”

“······ah.”

“The mansion is quite large, so it can be used as an auction house, so from the bank’s point of view, the mansion and land that are for sale must be packed up and sold.”

“That’s right, it’s convenient.”

“That’s how everything goes back in the original world.”

“Don’t say such things to the growing dream tree…”

hahahaha, what’s this much… This is close to being very quiet, no fuss, and very neat in this industry.

This is because it varies greatly depending on what kind of problem arises for the heir or the ancestor, and how far the target is.

anyway.

“There are about 20 pieces of art that we need to get this time.”

“Surprisingly few?”

“The late Baron Carlyle was a specialist in oriental painting. That’s why our field of modernization is a bit different from ours.”

“Then is there anything I need to buy?”

“Recently, Japonesque, or Art Nouveau, influenced by the Japanese style of painting, is popular in Europe.”

So Mr. Miller has recently been looking for artists who paint art nouveau styles like this.

From my first-hand impressions, it was as if I was looking at my own tarot cards, perhaps because of the splendor of the mosaic-like colors and the curving curves like growing vines.

Hmm, I also feel like a 2D illustration, so someday I want to use it as a cover or illustration for a new work.

If Mr. Miller recruits properly, it would be nice to ask for a favor.

‘Let’s see, the famous people here are Gustav Klimt or Alfons Mucha?’

What are you doing right now?

After finishing this work, I decided that I should try to find out the whereabouts of these people once I went back, and I continued the explanation.

“We won’t be dealing with Japonesque per se, but to deal with Art Nouveau, we need to collect some of the Japanese paintings from which it originated.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

However, despite my explanation, he only tilted his head with an expression that clearly did not understand.

Apparently, Monty is not suited to the art industry.

Well, it won’t matter.

It’s a business, so you don’t have to inherit it, you can sell it, or it’s okay to set up an agent to run it.

“You don’t have to force yourself to understand. In the first place, each person feels differently about art, and although there may be likes or dislikes, there is no right answer. No matter how much people cry because it’s a masterpiece, it’s meaningless if it doesn’t suit you.”

Since it was a business that started as a hobby in the first place, wouldn’t Mr. Miller laugh and say yes?

Isn’t Art Nouveau the representative right now?

It’s a little trendy now, but it fades quickly in just 20 years.

It’s nice to look at because it’s pretty, but it doesn’t last long if it’s just pretty.

“Hmm… if it’s Hanseul, that’s probably it.”

“Yes, this time, you can just watch it lightly as if you were just watching.”

After driving along the bumpy dirt road, the wagon had arrived at the Stapleton Manor before anyone knew it.

The mansion is old, but in this case it would be more accurate to say it was old-fashioned.

Ivy covered the entire building, and two towers that looked like twins rose from the center of the main building.

Numerous holes for shooting guns were drilled throughout the tower, and on the left and right stood black granite annexes that must have been used as material from nearby rocky mountains.

It also meant that this mansion was used not only as a residence, but also as an official office for the ruler.

“hmm.”

Faint light leaks through the heavy window bars, and dark smoke billows from the chimney on the steep roof, apparently there are passengers.

As if to prove it, when Monty and I got off the carriage, two of Exeter’s bank employees waiting at the front door slowly approached us.

They were people I knew well.

“Long time no see. Are you from Ashfield?”

In this area, Ashfield is synonymous with Mr. Miller. I nodded and replied.

“That’s right. This is Mr. Louis Montagu Miller, the eldest son of the Millers.”

“This is Louis Miller.”

“okay. welcome. You worked hard to come.”

“Eat inside. I have a room ready for you.”

As befits the staff familiar with this kind of thing, they guided us naturally.

I nodded and made eye contact with the older member of the staff.

“Boss, let’s go in first. I will carry the burden.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“I will help you, Hanseul.”

“thank you. Charlie.”

I let Monty go first and pretended to attach myself to the wagon’s luggage, making eye contact with Charlie, who was approaching to help me.

Charlie is a bank teller with 30 years of experience.

I have two children, and one of them is pretty smart, so he got into an expensive private university.

Yes… to a private school that is obviously difficult to attend on the salary of a mere bank teller.

if that means

“So, these are the merchants and collectors who have come to participate in this auction.”

good. I nodded, fully enjoying the benefits of the shady rural customs secretly established by local dignitaries.

In the process, oops, my hand briefly put a small pouch in and out of his bosom.

“hahahaha, thank you for all of this…”

“No, no. Never mind. It is always a small gift given to you for all your hard work.”

While he was checking his pockets, I started organizing the information I had just heard in my head.

Let’s see… There were quite a few familiar names.

Carstairs, Fernsby, Desmond, Sheldon. There is no need to remember anything below that.

Of course, among these four, there was not a single nobleman who could match Mr. Miller with his wealth.

At least, Sheldon is an old family when it comes to superiority and inferiority as a local leader, but even so, there are many things that are lacking compared to the Baymer family, which can be said to be the home of Clara’s wife.

That is, it is completely out of whack.

This time, I think it will be enough to press it with a dill?

I slung the bag over my shoulder and said.

“Hmm, that’s quite a bit, isn’t it?”

“hahahaha, isn’t it Dartmoor in the village?”

Indeed it is.

I nodded at Charlie’s words.

Very e-basement.

Well, I thought it was going to be like this ever since I sent Monty with him. Because in a place where there is fierce competition, I don’t send someone who could be a weakness together.

instead.

“This is true, Bocchan, you might be a bit disappointed. It’s the first time I’ve been to a place like this, so I’m sure you’re looking forward to it a lot.”

As in ＜Vincent Villiers＞, you must have imagined a scene where you split the number with your opponent while raising the price, but unfortunately, I don’t think I can show you that.

“From my point of view, it’s more amazing that you treat this as a kind of entertainment.”

Well, that would be it. I am also of a different age.

Anyway, I have no complaints at all.

It’s true that the moorland of Dartmoor is worth seeing, but the scenery around here is dull in color, and it quickly wears off. You’ll probably get bored after watching it for an hour or two.

Light content on light work.

There’s not even anything that bothers me, so it’s best to finish it and go home no matter what.

however.

“…there are a lot of cops?”

From noble mtl dot com

When I went inside, there were far more detectives with hard faces and beige coats in the mansion than the burns who had come to auction.

If you see the Metropolitan Police Department wearing blue clothes from time to time, what is it? Is there something wrong with my information?

As I looked back with that intention, Charlie shrugged and said.

“We assume that we have fallen into a swamp, but it is a disappearance case anyway. Even though the distribution of the inheritance has begun, there are still people who want the return of the popular Baron Carlisle.”

“okay. Then, if I really come back alive, I think it will be very big.”

“That’s why I do it where more cops are. In fact, circumstantial evidence suggests that Baron Carlisle is dead. However, like the heirs, I want to quickly dispose of and distribute the things that the bank needs to dispose of and roll the inheritance.”

In short, it seems to be saying that he wants to stamp the death certificate.

As it is not yet an era where there is a bill for the treatment of death after a few years after disappearance, it is strange that life and death are determined by circumstances around you.

Of course, the story didn’t end there.

“In fact, among the heirs, there are some people who really want someone to be the culprit.”

“No, what are you talking about again?”

“Common sense, right? Since you can’t hand over the murder victim’s inheritance to the murderer, you expect that the rest will come back a little more after subtracting the person’s legacy.”

“Oh my gosh…”

Roughly speaking, the villains say, ‘Okay, one head has been reduced with this.’ Same thing.

It’s like coveting the legacy without even praying for the rest of the dead. It’s really not a good place for education.

I couldn’t help but erase the bitter look on my face.

I can’t remember his face, but it was all the more so because Baron Carlyle was a man with many good stories.

Beyond the forest, there are a couple of suitable villages, but in fact, since this is a village that does not make a living, in fact, Baron Carlisle paid for it, so the village lived on.

Of course, that sounds like a lot of money.

As he was a high-ranking local official, he must have had considerable wealth, if not as much as Mr. Miller, including real estate.

And Charlie proudly told me the amount.

“The bank estimates its total assets to be around £970,000.”

“Mr. . . . . . .”

I have to turn my eyes

Well, if you think about it, it’s a wasteland, but it’s incredibly wide.

Opposite me as I thought so, I saw a coat and mustache that were somehow familiar to me, but couldn’t be here.

Uh… that person?

And as if the other side had found this place too, he was talking to the police, and he looked surprised and ran quickly.

“No, Hanslow? you?”

“······teacher? Why are you here, teacher?”

Who should be writing a Sherlock Holmes prequel in London right now.

It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.