Hannes hung up the phone and stood at the farm gate. Barely ten seconds had passed when a futuristic motorcycle sped towards him, stopping just a few meters away. Startled, Hannes, who was alone, almost turned to run.
William dismounted and lifted the face shield of his helmet. "Good evening, Mr. Hannes. I hope I'm not late."
Seeing that it was indeed William, Hannes breathed a sigh of relief. He had taken a risk by coming out alone. Happy to greet William, he stepped forward to shake his hand. "No, you're right on time. If you'd arrived a few minutes earlier, I wouldn't have even had the drinks ready."
Hannes didn't bother to ask how William had managed to appear in Belfast within just half an hour. "Please, William, leave the bike here. My men can park it for you."
"OK." William lowered the face shield of his helmet again and glanced towards a small forest a few hundred meters away from the farm. Sunday had informed him that Guan Yuming was hiding there, keeping an eye on the farm.
Seeing William staring at the woods, Hannes asked curiously, "What's wrong, Mr. Devonshire?"
"Just call me William," William replied, turning back. "I heard your office was bombed this morning?"
"Well," Hannes said with an embarrassed laugh, "some 50-year-old Asian man came to me demanding a list of the culprits behind the London bombing. Honestly, I didn't know who was responsible until you told me Maggie was one of them. I tried explaining that I was still investigating, but he wouldn't believe me and thought I was lying. He wouldn't let it go—bombed my office, rigged my car with an explosive device to scare me, and in the afternoon, he put four of my men in the hospital."
"Haha, didn't you think about taking him out?"
"No," Hannes shook his head. "I haven't resorted to violence in over a decade. Besides, he's a victim in all this. I can't do anything to him. All I can do is hide out on the farm until I find the real culprits."
"Let's not dwell on that," Hannes continued. "The drinks are ready. I've got a bottle of Macallan 40-year Reserve, a true rarity. Only 500 bottles were ever released, but what I've got here is a super rare 1999 special edition that isn't sold to the public. If it weren't for my old friend being forced to give it up, even I wouldn't have been able to get one."
Hearing about the 40-year-old Macallan that even London's top liquor dealers couldn't get, William's throat tingled with anticipation. "I've got to taste that, maybe enjoy it while we watch the show."
"Watch the show?" Hannes, already on edge, knew this didn't bode well. "What show?"
As they entered Hannes's study, William used his psychic powers to scan the room, ensuring there were no hidden dangers. Then he pulled out his phone, activated the signal jammer, and removed his helmet.
"Don't get mad just yet," William said, "and even if you do, wait until I'm done talking."
Hannes gave a puzzled nod, and William continued, "I told Guan Yuming that you know who the culprits behind the London bombing are. So, two nights ago, he drove to Belfast to cause you trouble."
"Damn it." Despite being an old hand in the game, Hannes didn't lose his cool. He cursed under his breath and walked over to the liquor cabinet, pouring two glasses of the 40-year-old Macallan. Handing one to William, he said, "If you weren't my special guest and hadn't come in person, I'd suspect you were behind all this. Tell me, why did you do it? That Asian guy scared me several times today."
"Haha," William chuckled, taking the glass. He sniffed the whiskey and, while walking towards the sofa, silently cast a magic spell to detect any poison. Confirming it was safe, he took a sip and sighed after a few seconds. "This whiskey really is excellent."
"I'm glad you like it," Hannes said, rolling his eyes at William before sitting down on the sofa beside him, waiting for him to speak.
After finishing half the glass, William finally spoke. "Without putting you in a tight spot, your good buddy and partner-in-crime, Thomas McGraw, wouldn't dare pull off any operations while you were watching so closely."
"Thomas?" Hannes looked skeptical, shaking his head with a sigh. "Evidence, William. I can't just suspect a comrade I've worked with for 30 years based on your words."
"Evidence?" William replied, smirking. "You've been doubting Thomas yourself, haven't you?"
"Impossible. Thomas is the person I trust the most. Why would I suspect him?" Hannes said, trying to remain expressionless.
"Haha, it's fine if you don't admit it," William laughed. "A few weeks ago, you told Thomas McGraw about your plan to target the UK's financial system. Not long after, a bombing took place at a clothing store next to a London bank. Don't tell me you didn't find that a bit suspicious."
"Alright, I know you've got your ways. Just show me the evidence," Hannes said, having grown somewhat numb to William's intelligence-gathering prowess. Earlier, his men had thoroughly searched the study with special equipment but found nothing. Now, William was talking about something that happened weeks ago, and Hannes wasn't even surprised anymore.
"This is boring," William muttered, pulling out his phone. After a few taps, a beam of light appeared above the coffee table, projecting a 3D image of a man dressed in black leather from head to toe, including a helmet.
The video showed the motorcyclist dismounting, carrying a backpack. After walking a few steps, he dropped his motorcycle key, likely because of the leather gloves he was wearing. He removed his glove, revealing a blurry scar on his right hand. The video gradually became clearer, finally focusing on the web-like scar on his hand.
"I cross-referenced criminal records and found a guy named Patrick Ollie. Three years ago, he was imprisoned for assault, and the prison records show that Patrick Ollie's hand has the same scar as the one in the video."
The 3D projection then displayed Patrick Ollie's profile picture, along with some videos related to him.
"This guy is the one who carried out the bombing. He planted the bomb in the clothing store. Once we find him, it'll be easy to track down the others. A few weeks ago, Patrick Ollie and some accomplices met Thomas McGraw at a pub in Ireland."
The video showed Thomas and Patrick Ollie drinking and laughing together, making Hannes mutter to himself. In his heart, he now acknowledged that Thomas was likely the mastermind behind the bombing.
After a long pause, Hannes said wearily, "What should I do?"
"Nothing. Just wait for them to act again."
"You're insane! Do nothing? If Catherine finds out I knew who the culprits were and let them act again, I'll lose my job as deputy minister for sure!" Hannes shook his head, refusing.
"If I don't say anything and you don't say anything, who would know?" William calmly sipped his whiskey as he spoke.
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