North American Detective: I am Proficient in All Kinds of Gun Quick Draws Chapter 392 - 248 The Information Left by the Killer1

Night.

The lights were bright in the Los Angeles forensic lab. Lured by money, a miniature model master, sowhat renowned in Los Angeles, appeared outside the lab’s evidence room.

The miniature model master, nad Lofiel, was a one-eyed white man in his fifties. In his younger years, he had been a circus prop master. After the circus disbanded, Lofiel began crafting various models for niche hobbyists to make a living and had been deeply involved in this industry for over twenty years, making him quite experienced.

However, upon first laying eyes on Lofiel, Harry felt the man was sowhat unreliable because he looked too shabby. Lofiel wore a tattered, patched wool sweater and had a ragged beard. He also exuded a rank, sour sll from not having bathed in a long ti. His eyes were dull, and he appeared sowhat senile.

In response, Harry quietly said to Daisy, "Daisy, are you sure this guy is sowhat famous in the miniature model industry?"

Daisy raised an eyebrow. "Harry, are you questioning my competence?"

"No, no, no!" Harry shrank back, chuckling apologetically. "Daisy, don’t misunderstand. I just think model enthusiasts are usually wealthy, but this old man looks more like a holess person."

As the two were whispering, Dean had already led Lofiel to the miniature model found in the victim Johnny Dennison’s house. "Mr. Lofiel, how long would it normally take to create a miniature model like this?"

The mont Lofiel saw the model, his remaining right eye, previously dull, lit up with the kind of brightness old lechers get when they see a peerless beauty. He rushed excitedly toward the model like a fanatic, eager to touch it, yet he seed reluctant to defile it. He could only greedily crane his neck, observing the model from all angles, wishing he could absorb the entire thing into his eye.

Although Dean didn’t understand why Raphael reacted so excitedly upon seeing this rather delicate model, any reaction was better than none at all. So, he stood to the side, quietly waiting for the man to co to his senses.

Over ten minutes later, Raphael reluctantly tore his gaze away and sighed with satisfaction. "I never imagined that before I go to the Holy Country, I would have the opportunity to see such a masterwork again."

"Sorry, Mr. Raphael," Dean said, seeing him return to normal and deliberately trying to provoke him with a leading question. "It feels to that this model looks rely delicate. Wouldn’t it be considered quite ordinary on the market? Or is there sothing special about it?"

By saying so, regardless of whether Raphael recognized the model maker or not, he would subconsciously reveal the truth to refute and correct , this ’country bumpkin.’

As expected, upon hearing "quite ordinary," Raphael beca angry. He glared at Dean with his one eye, spittle flying in his fury.

"Kid, this is an insult to artwork! Do you actually think this model is ordinary? Look at the proportions! I can assure you, everything—from the house’s structure to the furniture and tools—is replicated to perfect real-life proportions, and they used special joining techniques; otherwise, it’s impossible to fit them together so perfectly!"

"Fit together perfectly?" Dean echoed, seizing the main point of Raphael’s words.

Raphael nodded, pointing to the joints between the pieces in the model. "Just like a house needs rebar for support and connection! If a model is to be stable, it needs glue and so ingenious clasp designs to maintain its overall integrity. But look at this model. Do you see any traces of glue or clasps?"

It was then that Dean realized the model left by the killer in the victim Johnny Dennison’s house, aside from the material’s texture, which was obviously artificial, did indeed possess an exceptionally harmonious feel overall. Ordinary people might not be sensitive to this detail, but as an industry insider, Raphael recognized the model’s special feature at a glance.

Looking disdainfully at Dean, Raphael then sighed. "Nine years ago, I saw a similar model in a second-hand shop, but unfortunately, the shopkeeper had forgotten where it ca from. Otherwise, I truly wish I could find the creator of such models to earnestly learn from them."

"Mr. Raphael, are you saying that very few people can use this technique?"

"Very few!" Raphael’s tone was firm as he explained, "Actually, miniature models have been around for a long ti. Back then, it was mainly great noble families who would cultivate such artisans. One purpose was for entertainnt and viewing; another was to create physical terrain maps in preparation for war. But the truly skilled were the ancient Eastern architects! They had special techniques to replicate the structures they wanted to build—without using adhesives or obvious clasps—and would then construct them in reality after ensuring everything was correct. Over ti, they developed this unique miniature model crafting skill! I once traveled to several Eastern countries with such traditions, seeking to learn. Unfortunately, those craftsn were too stubborn, preferring to let their skills die out rather than pass them on."

Hearing this, Dean was slightly stunned. This craft... it sounds a lot like woodworking skills from China, he thought. He then saw Raphael sink back into that listless, spiritless state, imrsed once more in his own world.