Chapter 7 7. The barn with the hanged ghost

Of all these events, what is known to the public is that Marie-Anne Fauville attempted suicide, that Gaston Saufran was captured and escaped, that Inspector Anceny died in the line of duty, that one of Hippolyte Fauville's A letter was found.Besides, the public was already attracted by the Mornington estate case. Some people insisted on confusing Don Louis with Arson Ropin. Every move of this mysterious figure aroused strong public interest. It is enough to arouse public curiosity.Of course, the credit for catching the fellow with the ebony cane—though he ran off again a moment later—were all credited to Don Louis.It was also known that he had saved the Superintendent's life; at last he had asked to stay overnight at the mansion on the Avenue de Sucher, and had received, in the most inconceivable manner, a letter from the Fauvere engineer some months earlier.All this greatly stimulated public opinion.

But the questions posed to Don Louis were far more complicated and annoying!In forty-eight hours, he had been in distress four times.Not to mention the anonymous article that revealed his true face, there were as many as four times when someone murdered him: the iron plate fell from the telephone booth, the poison in the water, the shooting on Xuxie Avenue, and the murderer in the car. hands and feet.Florence's undeniable involvement in this series of murders.Thanks to those little scraps of paper in Book 8 of The Complete Works of Shakespeare, her connection to Hippolyte Fauville's killer has been confirmed!Now, two more have been added to the list of victims: Inspector Anceny and the driver of the car.

How should this enigmatic woman determine and explain her role in the whole case? What an oddity.The mansion on Place de Bourbon returned to life, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.Every morning, in Don Louis' presence, Florence Levasseur sorted through the mail and read aloud newspaper articles that related to him or mentioned Mornington's estate. For two days, Perena did not mention once about the murderous struggle that was pursued to kill him.He felt he had reached a truce with the enemy.For the moment the enemy has given up attacking him.He felt safe and sound, out of danger.So he spoke to the girl as completely indifferently as if he were talking to anyone.

But secretly, how attentively he watched her!He noticed how intense and composed her face was.In that face, beneath that calm exterior, throbbed painful, intense, overwhelming sympathy.This can be seen from the trembling of her lips and the fluttering of her nostrils! "Who the hell are you? Who the hell are you?" he wanted to cry. "Do you want to pave the road with dead bodies? Do you have to kill me to do that? Where did you come from? To achieve what purpose?" After some reflection, he slowly came to a clear view of a problem that had always troubled him, namely: he lived in this mansion on the Place de Bourbon, with a man who clearly harbored a deep hatred for him and haunted him. The woman he does not let go also works in the mansion, so there is some mysterious connection between the two.Today he understood that it was no accident that he bought the mansion.He only came up with the idea of ​​buying this mansion after receiving a printed property introduction.But who sent him this anonymous real estate introduction?Who is it but Florence?Apparently Florence wanted to draw him to her side so that she could watch and kill him.

"Well," he thought, "that's the truth. I was directly involved in this case because I might inherit Cosmo Mornington's estate, and I was a thorn in the side of those people. I got rid of it, as I got rid of the others. It was Florence who did it to me, and it was she who did it. Everything pointed to her guilt. There was no sign of her innocence. Her eyes were not very good. Is it pure? Isn't her voice very innocent? Isn't her appearance very dignified and elegant?...But, so what?...Does this explain the problem? Haven't I seen some women with innocent eyes, but Killing people for no reason, just for a little pleasure?" He thought of Dolorey Kesselbach, and felt a shiver... In his mind, what kind of mysterious relationship was there that made these two women together?He had once loved one of them, the devilish Dolores, but he had strangled her with his own hands.Today, will fate drive him to the same love, to commit the same murder?

He felt relieved and breathed much easier when Florence was gone.But he ran to the window, watched her across the yard, and stood by the window, watching her walk across the yard and back.This girl, her orchid-like aura once brushed across his face.One morning, she said to him, "The newspaper says there's another incident tonight." "tonight?" "Yes," she said, pointing to the article, "it is said that according to the information you provided, the police claimed that the mansion on Xuxie Avenue will receive a letter every ten days. Today is April 25th. It was exactly ten days before I received the letter. He also said that the mansion would be destroyed by an explosion on the night of receiving the fifth letter, which is the last letter.” Could this be a challenge to him?Did she want him to hear the meaning: no matter what happens, no matter how great the obstacles are, the things predicted on the paper in the eighth volume of "The Complete Works of Shakespeare", those letters of unknown origin, will still appear in the Fauville mansion ?He stared at her intently.

She didn't move.He replied, "Indeed. It's tonight. I'll go there. Nothing can stop me." She wanted to speak, but suppressed the surging emotion in her heart again, and swallowed the words.On this day, Don Louis maintained a high level of vigilance, and ate lunch and dinner in restaurants outside.He also made an agreement with Mazzello, asking him to send someone to closely monitor the Bourbon Palace Square.In the afternoon, Mademoiselle Levasseur did not leave the mansion.At night, Don Louis ordered Mazzello's men to follow anyone who left the mansion. At ten o'clock Mazzello came to the studio of the engineer Fauville to join Don Louis.He was accompanied by Deputy Chief of Security Weber and two police officers.

Don Louis dragged Mazzello aside. "To be honest, they don't trust me, do they?" "No. As long as Desmalion is on stage, nothing can be done against you. However, Weber asserts that you are responsible for all this. And he is not the only one who says so." "What is my purpose in doing this?" "The purpose is to provide evidence against Mary-Anne Fauville, so that she can be convicted and sentenced. So I asked the deputy director and the two policemen to come and see for themselves. The four of us will prove your sincerity together." They take their places.

Two police officers took turns on duty. This time, after carefully examining the small room where Furwell's son had once slept, they closed and bolted the doors and windows. At eleven o'clock they put out the overhead lights. Don Louis and Webb barely closed their eyes. The night passed, and it was safe and sound, without any abnormalities. However, at seven o'clock the next morning, they opened the window and found a letter on the table.As before, there is a letter on the table! After the initial consternation passed, the Deputy Commissioner picked up the letter.He had been ordered not only not to read it himself, but not to allow anyone else to read it.

The papers later published the letter, accompanied by an expert's identification, which confirmed that the letter was indeed in the handwriting of Hippolyte Fauville.The letter reads as follows: I saw him!Good friend, you know who I'm referring to, right?I see him!He was walking along a path in the Bois de Boulogne with his collar turned up and his hat covering his ears.Did he see me?I don't think so.It was almost dark.But, in spite of the twilight, I recognized him distinctly.I recognized his silver-headed ebony cane.Exactly the bad guy, can't be wrong at all! The fellow came despite promising not to come to Paris.Gaston Sofran is still in Paris!Do you know how terrible this thing is?He came to Paris to say that he was going to strike.If he comes to Paris, I will die.what!He is my enemy, he has caused me so much suffering!Not only has it taken away my happiness, but now it is taking my life.I'm afraid.

So Engineer Feverwell knew that the fellow with the ebony cane, that Gaston Sofran, was plotting to kill him.Hippolyte Fauville made this clear in his own handwritten testimony.In addition, this letter also confirmed what Gaston Sofran said when he was arrested, showing that the two of them had a relationship in the past and then broke up their friendship, and that Gaston Sofran had promised to live forever. Do not come to Paris.At this point, a few rays of light finally shone into the darkness of the Mornington estate case.But, on the other hand, what an unbelievable mystery it was that the letter had turned up on the desk in Fauville's studio!Five people, and the five most capable people, kept watch all night, but they were still taken advantage of.This night was the same as the night of April 15th. An invisible hand sent a letter into the room with the doors and windows closed, without making the slightest sound, without any trace of opening the door and picking the lock. It is incredible! Someone immediately put forward a hypothesis that there was a hidden door in the room, but everyone carefully inspected the walls of the room, and called in the contractor who had built the house according to the drawings of the Fauville engineer a few years ago, and then denied this hypothesis. The public consternation in this matter need not be mentioned here.It was almost like a magic trick when things happened under these conditions.In the eyes of the public, such a thing is not so much done by someone who has done it by a method that no one knows, as it is the work of a very powerful magician. However, this incident also proved that the information provided by Don Luis Perena was not groundless and fabricated.On the night of April 25th, just like on the night of April 15th, what he predicted really happened. Will there be a third letter on the night of the fifth of May?No one doubted it, because Don Louis had said what he said, he would come when he said it, and everyone felt that he could not go wrong.Therefore, on the night of May 5th, a large number of people gathered on the Xuxie Avenue.Those who like to watch the excitement, those who wander out at night come in droves to inquire about the latest news. The police chief himself was shocked by these two miracles, and wanted to see what happened on the spot, so he personally participated in the third night duty.He brought some detectives and arranged vigils in the garden, in the corridor and in the attic. He himself was guarding the first floor with Deputy Commissioner Webbe, Mazzello, and Don Luis Perena. But everyone waited in vain.This can only be blamed on Mr. Desmalion.Although Don Louis made it clear that it was unnecessary for him to do so, he decided to pass the night with the lights on, to see if the lights would not prevent the miracle from happening.In this case, of course, no letters will appear.Whether it is a magician's trick or a villain's plot, there is a need to turn to the shadow of darkness. Therefore, the ten days were wasted, if the diabolical correspondent dared to go on and deliver the mysterious third letter. On the night of May 15th, the night watch began again.Outside the mansion, the same spectators gathered. They waited anxiously for something to happen, holding their breath, not ignoring the slightest sound.They stared intently at the Fauville mansion, and no one said a word, so silent that a needle could be heard falling on the ground. This time, the lights in the room were turned off.But the Superintendent of Police had the switch in his hand.Ten times, twenty times, he turned on the light unexpectedly, and there was nothing on the table.It turned out that it was the sound of the furniture drying out, or the sound of someone moving, which aroused his vigilance. Suddenly, they cried out in unison.An unusual, paper-scraping sound broke the silence. M. Desmalion had turned on the light. He screamed in surprise. The letter was not on the table, but on the floor beside the table, on the rug.Mazzello made the sign of the cross on his chest. The detectives were shocked one by one. M. Desmalion looked at Don Louis.He just nodded and said nothing.Somebody went to check the locks and bolts.No one moved. This day again.In a way, the content of the letter gave people an understanding of this unheard of way of sending a letter.This letter finally dispelled the cloud over the double murder on the Rue de Xuchet. It's still the signature of the engineer, the date is February 8, and the address is unclear.The letter is as follows: This is what the third letter is about.Hippolyte Fever called his wife's name from the depths of the grave and accused her of sin.He gives the answer to the riddle from the depths of the tomb and explains the cause of the crime: Marie-Anne and Gaston Sofran are in love.They knew, of course, that Cosmo Mornington had made a will, because they had started by getting rid of Cosmo Mornington.In order to get that huge inheritance as soon as possible, they stepped up their efforts.Still, the root of the crime lies in an old relationship: Marie-Anne and Gaston Saufran are in love. There is one issue that remains to be resolved.Hippolyte Fauville commissioned the recipient to help him avenge him.Who is this recipient?Instead of simply handing over the letter directly to the judicial authorities, he took so much detour and so much thought.Could it be that he was forced by the situation to stay in the dark? To these questions Marie-Anne answered in the most unexpected way, which, however, was consistent with her threat.Eight days later, she was interrogated at length, and the judge forced her to answer who her husband's old friend was.She refused to answer, her expression indifferent and numb.At night, back in her cell, she cut a blood vessel in her wrist with a piece of glass she kept.Early the next morning, before eight o'clock, Mazzello came to report and roused Don Louis from his bed.Mazzeru was carrying a travel bag in his hand. Don Louis was shocked by this news. "Is she dead?" he cried. "No...it seems to be saved again. But what's the use?" "Why, why is it useless?" "Of course! She will commit suicide. All she wants is death. One day..." "This time, before committing suicide, didn't she confess anything?" "No. She just wrote a few words on a piece of paper, saying that she had to go to a man named M. Longenoud for the source of those mysterious letters. She only knew this friend of her husband. This And the only person her husband has ever called a 'good friend'. This Mr. Longenoud can only defend her by proving that she is the victim of a terrible misunderstanding." "Then," said Don Louis, "why did she commit suicide by cutting her wrists, when she could be proved innocent?" "According to her own words, it is one thing for her to prove her guilt or innocence. Her life is over. All she wants now is rest and death." "Rest, rest, and she can only rest if she dies. If discovering the truth is a kind of salvation for her, then the truth may be discovered." "What did you say, boss? What did you notice? Are you beginning to understand?" "Oh! It's just that I noticed a little shadow. But, having said that, these letters were delivered on time, which is really abnormal. It seems to give me some advice..." He thought for a moment, and then said: "The above three letters The vague address, have you checked it carefully?" "Examined, and identified, the addressee wrote the name of Longenoud." "Where does Longenoud live? . . . " "According to Madame Fauville, in the village of Furmini, in Orna." "Did you recognize the words Formini in the letter?" "No. It says a neighboring city." "What city?" "Alencon." "Where are you going?" "Yes, the director sent me to go immediately. I will go to the Veterans' Academy to take the train." "You mean, you take my car and walk with me." "Ok?" "Let's go together, boy. I need to move around. I think the air in the mansion is terrible." "Damn bad? What do you mean?" "Nothing interesting. I see it myself." Half an hour later they were driving on the road to Versailles.Perena himself drove his convertible, driving so hard that Mazzello was startled and frightened, and kept saying, "My God, you're driving like this...it's thundering! Boss, you're driving so hard! . . . You are not afraid of overturning your car? . . . You do not remember what happened that day . . . ” They hurried to Alençon for lunch.After dinner, I went to the central post office.The post office clerk did not know Mr. Longenoud.Besides, the village of Formigny has a post office.Since the envelope was stamped with Alencon's postmark, it can only be assumed that M. Langeneau had his letter sent to the post office for collection. Don Luis and Mazzello went to the village of Formigny, where the postman did not know a man named Langeneau, although Formigny had only a thousand inhabitants. "Go ask the village chief," Perena said. At the village office, Ma Zelu showed his ID card and explained his intention to the village chief.The mayor nodded and said: "Old man Langeneau... I think he is... an honest and decent man... He used to do business in the capital." "He has a habit of going up to Alençon to get the mail, isn't he?" "Exactly...he has to go there every day." "Where is his home?" "Murao. Just walk straight." "Can you see the house?" "Of course...just..." "Maybe he's not at home?" "Not at home for sure. Four years gone and not coming back, poor fellow." "what happened?" "Ah! He's been dead for four years." Don Louis and Mazzello looked at each other. "Ah! he's dead..." said Don Louis. "Yeah, got shot." "What did you say?" cried Perena. "He was killed?" "No, it wasn't. At first they thought he had been murdered when they lifted him from the floor of his bedroom. However, later investigations confirmed that he died in an accident. He accidentally It went off and hit the stomach. However, people in our village still think it is suspicious. Father Langenau is an old hunter, so he can't be so careless." "Is he rich?" "Yes. But that's what makes it so unpredictable. When he died, he didn't find a penny in the house." Don Louis thought for a moment, then asked: "Does he have any children? Any brothers or nephews?" "Not a single one. Not a cousin. The proof is that his property--they call it the Old Castle, because there are some ruins of old houses--has remained as it was. The gates are all sealed, and the garden gate is blocked. As soon as the deadline is over, it will be returned to the public." "Won't those curious people go into the garden and have a look?" "To be honest, no. First of all, the walls are very high. And then... and then, the old castle has a bad reputation locally. There are always people talking about encountering ghosts there... Anyway, there are many stories that make people afraid to lie down and sleep... …but……" "It's a mystery." Don Louis and Mazzello couldn't help exclaiming as soon as they left the village hall. "Fauville wrote to a dead man. By the way, it seems to me that the man was murdered. " "Those letters must have been intercepted." "Obviously so. Though he was writing to the dead, pouring out his heart, and telling of his wife's evil plans." Mazzello fell silent, and he also seemed extremely confused. In the afternoon, they spent some time looking for the villagers to learn about the habits of the old man Longeneau, hoping to find some clues.But there was nothing of value in their answers.It was almost six o'clock when they were ready to leave, but Don Louis, seeing that the car was out of gas, sent Mazzellou to buy fuel in a carriage on the outskirts of Alençon, and he used the time to visit the old castle at the end of the village. He followed a path between two rows of hedges to a circular flowerbed of lime trees.In the middle of a nearby wall, a tall wooden door was opened.The door is closed.Don Louis walked around the wall and found that it was not only high, but also had no gaps.But he climbed over the wall with the help of a branch from a tree next to the wall.In the garden, an untrimmed lawn, full of large untended flowers, and a path overgrown with weeds, the right leads to a hillock crowded with the ruins of some buildings; A dilapidated house.The shutters didn't close properly. Walking towards the house, he was startled to see fresh footprints in a flower bed that had been soaked by recent rain.It can be seen that this is the imprint left by women's boots, which is delicate and slender. "Who has been here?" he wondered. A little later, in another flower bed, he found traces of the woman walking by.The footprints are in the direction of a stretch of small woods opposite the house.In the woods, he also saw footprints twice. Then, it was out of sight. He came to a large warehouse with its back against a high slope.The house collapsed in half.The doors were worm-eaten, and seemed to have only been kept afloat by accidental balance.He walked over and peered in against a crack in the planks. The barns had no windows, and all the holes were blocked with grass.In addition, it was late at night, and the inside was even more dimly lit. We could vaguely see piles of vats, dismantled presses, old plowshares, and all kinds of scrap copper and rotten iron. "That woman must not be here," thought Don Louis. "Look elsewhere." But he did not leave.He heard something in the barn. He sharpened his ears to listen, but heard nothing.But he wanted to find out, so he smashed a wooden board with his arm and broke in. The gap adds a little light to the barn.He can sneak between barrels.There were some broken window frames on the ground, and he stepped on them and broke the glass.The barrels were piled up to a clearing against the opposite wall. he walks.His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.However, his forehead bumped into a rather hard object, and he couldn't see what it was, anyway, the object swayed and made a strange scream. The light is too dim.Don Louis took the flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. "Damn it!" He cursed, and took a few steps back in fright. There is a mummy hanging on his head! Perena immediately cursed again.Next to this one, there is another one hanging!The two mummies were hung from the bolts of the beam by thick ropes.The head drooped from the looper.The one Perena bumped into was still swinging, bones clashing and creaking ominously. When he saw a lame table, he moved it over, stuffed it randomly, then stood on it, and carefully inspected the two mummies nearby. Fragments of clothing and hard-dried muscles connect each bone, keeping them together. It's just that one of the mummies was missing an arm, and the other was missing an arm and a leg. Even though nothing collided, the wind coming through the hole made them wobble slightly.The two mummies separated for a while, and moved closer together for a while, swinging slowly and rhythmically. In this tragic scene, what impressed him the most was that the two mummies each had a gold ring on their hands. The flesh on the fingers shrank, and the rings looked extra wide, and the curved knuckles held them like hooks. He took off the two rings and shivered in disgust. These are two wedding rings. He looked at it carefully.The same date and two names are engraved on the inner circle of both rings: August 12, 1892, Alfred, Victorina. "This is a married couple," he wondered. "Did they both hang themselves? Or were they murdered? Is it possible that no one found out? Should it not be assumed, therefore, that they died after the death of old Longenoud?" After the Public Property Department sealed off this property, and no one came in, did it hang here?" He thought to himself: "No one came in?... No one came in?... No, I just saw footprints in the garden. Even today, a woman came in." He thought of the unknown person again. The woman came down.Although he heard a noise, it never occurred to him that she was in the barn.He checked for a few minutes, and was about to go out, when he heard a ping-pong sound from the left, and not far away, some barrel hoops fell to the ground. The barrel hoops came down from above, from the attic.That, too, was stuffed with objects and tools. There is a staircase leaning against it.He thought: Could it be that the woman was frightened by his arrival, hid in the attic, accidentally knocked over a bunch of barrel hoops?Don Louis set the flashlight on top of a large wine barrel.The flashlight lit up the entire attic.He saw nothing suspicious, only old rakes, old picks, and disused scythes.He thought it was the noise made by wild cats or something, but he still wanted to see what happened, so he strode up to the ladder and climbed up.When he reached the ceiling, he heard another sound, the sound of something collapsing.A figure rushed out fiercely from the pile of debris.Things come as fast as lightning.Don Louis saw a scythe approaching his head, and he had only to hesitate a second, or even a tenth of a second, before the gleaming blade cut off his head. As soon as he hid himself on the stairs, the scythe whistled, scraping at his clothes.He slipped down the stairs immediately. But he saw it. He saw the hideous face of Gaston Sofran.Behind this fellow with the ebony cane was the frightened, convulsed face of Florence Levasseur, so pale in the electric light!