Chapter 8 Section VII

An hour later, everyone stumbled along the stairs and walked back into the fresh air outside the tomb.They identified two problems: First of all, there are no secret passages in the crypt, and there are no other passages to enter or exit. Second, the body was not in the crypt, hidden in other coffins.They dragged out all the lower coffins and checked them thoroughly.Although it is impossible to open the coffin lids one by one, judging from the thick dust, rust and tightly closed coffin lids, no coffin has been touched after the burial.Then Paddington gave up and went back to the big house for another whiskey.Henderson and Stevens, in their enthusiasm, found a ladder and climbed up to inspect the coffins of Mr. Despard's men aloft.Mark uncomfortably refused to help disturb the remains.It's much less likely, though, that these antique alcoves, which seem to crumble at the touch of a finger, are hiding Miles' body.In the end, Mark even pulled the withered flowers out of the marble vase, and everyone turned the vase upside down together, but still found nothing.At this point, they were sure that the body was really not in the crypt.Firstly, there was no other place to hide in the crypt, and secondly, they were surrounded by granite blocks.In this way, the hypothesis that the body was hidden in the crypt was quickly overturned.Even if the rare event does happen, someone sneaks in here along the passage that no one knows, hangs upside down on the rows of coffins like a bat, and removes the corpses from the coffins-this kind of creepy picture is just right for Fuseli and others. Goya's paintbrush—then, for some reason, this man wanted to hide the body somewhere else in the crypt, and the problem was that there was no such thing as "anywhere else" in the crypt.

Shortly before one o'clock in the morning, after all that could be done, the noses and lungs of the four could no longer bear the torment of the subterranean air.Stumbled back to the ground.Henderson walked straight into the bushes at the end of the road, and Stevens heard retching coming from that direction.The other three entered Henderson's small stone house, went into the living room and turned on the light.Henderson quickly followed, mopping his forehead, and silently brewed an espresso.Then, everyone sat around the table in this flashy little room.Four grubby gravediggers held cups of coffee and said nothing.There were framed pictures on the fireplace, and a clock in the middle of the frames showed that it was ten to one.

"Don't be discouraged," Paddington finally said, but his own good temper was almost worn out, and his eyes could hardly be kept open.He pretended to light up the cigarette, "Gentlemen, we have a problem, a beautiful, complete and interesting problem, I suggest to solve it first, lest Mark worry again..." "Damn, why do you keep saying I'm worried?" Mark asked displeased, "Is there anything else you'd say? I don't know if you want to fix the problem, but I think you just want to convince people that Seeing is not believing.” He looked up from his coffee cup and said again, "What do you think, Ted?"

"I reserve my opinion." Steven confessed.He remembered Mary's mysterious prophecy: "You will open a tomb tonight, and I guess you will find nothing." He knew that he could not reveal his true thoughts, and tried to keep his face as straight as possible, but he couldn't help thinking about a few surprises. Possibility of unhappiness.Now, his best course of action is to let Paddington stick to his mediocre rhetoric.Stevens' mind was clouded, the hot coffee burning his throat.He wanted to lean back in the chair and relax, only to find a bulge in his pocket.what?It turned out to be the small jar of oil for the lantern, he remembered, and after filling the second lantern, the others handed him the pick and sledgehammer, and he slipped the oil jar into his pocket.He was fingering the fuel can absently, and suddenly remembered some strange, unexpected quirks in Mary's personality.She couldn't stand even a can of ordinary lamp oil.Why?What is the reason?He'd heard of cats being afraid of cats, of certain kinds of flowers or jewelry, but this--it's like someone would cringe at the sight of a coal scuttle, or one wouldn't be in a room with a pool table, It's completely unbelievable.

While thinking about it, he asked, "Doctor, what do you think?" "If you don't mind, please don't call me a doctor." Paddington looked at the cigarette and said, "I think this is the same old secret room, but this time the secret room is in a particularly complicated and difficult form. We not only have to explain How the murderer got in and out of the secret room without leaving a trace is also because it is not a simple secret room. The situation is much more complicated. It is a basement, made of granite, and there is not even a single window. And the secret room is not separated from the outside world by a door , separated by a stone slab weighing almost half a ton, six feet of dirt and gravel, and witnesses who swore that absolutely no one had touched the series.”

"I'm your so-called witness," said Henderson, "and that's what I mean." "Very good. As I said, we not only have to explain how the murderer got in and out, but also how the corpse was moved in and out. That's great... Now we know almost all the secret chamber tricks of the past and present," Paddington looked around with a suspicious smile, and said, "At least we can rule out one by one to find the only possibility. There are only four possibilities at present. Two of them can be ruled out now, and of course we need to be professional." Further inspection and analysis by the builders. At present we are almost certain that there are no secret passages in the crypt, and the body is not currently in the crypt. Do you agree?"

"Agreed." Mark said. "That leaves two possibilities. First, although Mr. Henderson vouches from personal experience that no one touches the gravel road, and even though he and his wife are sleeping twenty feet from the side of the road, someone did take advantage of it." Sneaked into the basement at night and restored the entrance afterwards." Henderson dismissed the answer contemptuously.He sat down on an old wicker rocking chair with a high back, folded his hands on his chest, and rocked rhythmically, causing the chair to keep receding. "Well—I don't really believe in that possibility myself,' Paddington admitted. "So we're dealing with the last and only possibility—that the body wasn't put in the crypt in the first place."

"Ah," Mark tapped his hand on the table, and added after a while, "However, I don't think that's possible." "I don't believe it either," said Henderson. "Mr. Paddington, I don't want to keep interrupting, as if I have to contradict every word you say. But, I must say, this is by far the worst you've ever said." Speculation. I don't say this without proof. If your speculation is true, it means that the undertaker and his two assistants are allies? To be honest, Mr. Paddington, you know that is impossible, don't you? On the day What happened was that Miss Edith ordered me to stay on guard during the undertaker's service, not to leave Mr. Miles' body for a moment, even if I needed my help in other matters. I did as I was told."

"You see, the customs are different now than in the past, people don't put the body in the coffin and put the coffin in the porch to say goodbye. People embalm the body, put the bed in bed, and then put the coffin in the burial, After the coffin was sealed, it was carried downstairs by the pallbearers. Do you understand? It was the same for Mr. Miles' funeral. Also, I was in the room when they put Mr.'s body in the coffin... I ordered by Miss Edith, Didn't leave much. And the night before the funeral, the old woman and I kept a vigil all night... Anyway, they put the body in the coffin, closed the lid, and the coffin bearers followed into the room and carried the coffin away. I followed the coffin as they carried it down the stairs," Henderson said excitedly, hoping the others would believe, "There were judges, lawyers, doctors, whatever, and I hope you won't accuse them of trickery!"

"Sir, they carried the coffin out through the back door, carried it here along the gravel road, and carried it into the crypt." He pointed. People came out, and the funeral was over. As soon as the funeral was over, my assistants, Barry and Michaels, with the help of Tom Robinson, began to seal the tomb. I just went in and changed clothes, and immediately came out to watch them do it. After That's it." The rocking chair rocked one last time, getting closer to the old-fashioned radio with the potted plant on top, and finally slowed down. "But, damn it," cried Paddington, "it's either! Do you believe in ghosts?"

The rocking chair slowly stopped. "No matter what people say," Henderson said slowly, "I believe it." "Nonsense!" Henderson frowned at the table, still crossing his arms. "I say, mind you," he said, "I don't care if there are ghosts or not. I'm not afraid of them, if you mean that, even if they come in right now. I'm not superstitious. Superstitious people are afraid of ghosts. " He thought for a moment and then said, "You know, I always remember what Mr. Ballinger said to me back home in Pennsylvania forty years ago. Mr. Ballinger is at least ninety years old and always Wears an elegant men's hat, works in the garden every day, or hustles around the house like a big guy. At one point, he surprised everyone by climbing up to a pitched roof over sixty feet high on, wearing a shirt and a hat, repairing the roof tiles himself--ninety years old. There is an old cemetery not far from Mr. Ballinger's house, which has long been abandoned and neglected. Mr. Ballinger needs stone for the cellar. Always go through the fence and get a headstone from the cemetery when he was a kid. Yes, sir, he did. "I remember walking through the backyard of their house and saw him digging. I said, 'Mr. Ballinger, aren't you afraid of retribution if you take away his tombstone?" Filled up a pint of tobacco juice, 'Joe,' said he, 'I'm not afraid of death, Joe, and neither are you.Remember, it's the jerks that are still alive that you have to watch out for. 'Yes, sir, that's what he said, and I never forgot his words. 'You have to watch out for those bastards who are still alive. ' That's what he said, yes, sir.If people are dead, they can't hurt you.At least they couldn't hurt me, that's what I thought.As to whether there are ghosts or not, I heard Shakespeare on the radio that night—” Mark didn't interrupt him, but kept looking at him suspiciously.Henderson stared enigmatically and impassively over the edge of the table, while slowly, self-righteously rocking the rocker.Whether he was more afraid of the living or the dead, it was clear that he was terrified anyway. "I want to ask you something," Mark said quickly, "Did Mrs. Henderson tell you what she told me?" "You mean the woman who appeared in the room the night Mr. Miles died?" Henderson said, still looking at the table. "That's right." Henderson recalled a moment. "Yes, she told me," he admitted. "I told you just now," Mark turned to the other two, and continued, "I won't tell the whole story first, in case you won't believe me after hearing it. But now, even I don't know what to believe or what not to believe. So it’s better to tell you.” "First and foremost (as I said before) Mrs. Henderson was away for a week and didn't return until that evening when we set off for the masquerade. Naturally, she didn't know how Lucy or Edith were dressed. . . . wait a minute!" He looked at Henderson, "unless you told her. When she got back, did you tell her about the ladies' attire?" "Me? No," said the latter angrily, "I don't even know what they're wearing. Yes, I know they're preparing fancy dresses, but fancy dresses are just fancy dresses, and they're all pretty much the same to me. No , I never said anything." Mark nodded. "Well, her story is this. That night, that is, that Wednesday night, she came back from the station at about twenty-five minutes to ten. Once she came back, she first walked around the big house to see Everything is normal. Then she knocked on the door of Miles' room, and Miles didn't answer the door, but agreed to her in the room. Like Edith, she was worried. She asked Miles pointed out that she was going to stay in her own house behind the big house—which is where we are now—and no one would hear him unless he opened the window and shouted. Like Edith, she wanted to sit Go wait in the porch, or at least downstairs. Miles refuses, annoyed. What does he say: 'Damn who do you think I am, useless cripple? I keep telling you all , I'm fine! Go back to your house and stay." This surprised her, because Miles is usually polite to the point of being comical. She said: "Well, whatever Well, I'll come back at eleven and see how you're doing.' "Anyway, she has to go back to the mansion at eleven o'clock anyway. Only then did I discover the following things." "Ms. Henderson listens to a certain radio program every Wednesday night. It has been a year since the program started. I remember it," Mark said without a funny look, but with sarcasm and hatred A bone-piercing expression, "Sweet music called Inglefield Soothes, actually only half an hour long, and the music is far from soothing, and keeps advertising some kind of calming syrup—" Henderson blinked in genuine surprise. "That's good music," he said enthusiastically. "Pretty good music, and you don't forget, it's soothing." He turned to the other two and said, as if seeking support, "Mark means that we used to have a radio in the house, which was a good thing, but it seems to be broken in the past few weeks, so my wife wants to go to the mansion to listen to the program." "That's right," Mark said, "and, I think we'd better emphasize that this is 'Inglefield's Soothing Hour,' and there's nothing—how should I say it, there's anything dark, unsightly about it. Do you understand? Assuming that the dark forces in hell really have the ability to break into the human world through this kind of clichéd program and destroy our beautiful life... Then I have to admit that the dark forces in hell are too powerful and terrifying. The gathering of human beings In the city, tens of thousands of lights are lit at night, which act as bonfires to scare away the darkness. The advancement of human technology allows us to hear the singing from the other side of the ocean and soothe our lonely hearts; It's comforting to travel through the wilderness. But suppose you, Ted, live in an apartment in New York, or you, in Paddington, a suite in London, or John Smith anywhere in the world -- suppose you Come home one night, open the door of the same room as usual, and suddenly hear another sound. Suppose you dare not look behind the umbrella stand, or check the furnace in the basement at night, because you are afraid of seeing something The dark thing climbed up?" "That's what I call," Paddington said clearly, "worried." "Yes, I guessed right." Mark nodded and smiled.He took a deep breath and said, "Okay. I'll get back to business. Mrs. Henderson was back at the mansion just in time for the eleven o'clock broadcast. I should preface that the radio was on The sun room on the second floor. But I won't go into details, I will take you to the scene. For now you just need to know that there is a French door in the sun room that leads to Miles' room. We keep asking him why he didn't put the sun room The room became his personal—no one else in the family used it much—but for some reason, Uncle Miles didn't want it. He always had thick curtains drawn over the glass doors. Both the interior and the decor are much more modern than the rest of the mansion - wicker furniture, brightly colored soft furnishings, botanical decorations and more. "She went upstairs. She was worried about missing the beginning of the show, so she didn't linger long at the door of Miles' room. She just knocked on the door and asked, 'Is everything all right?' Uncle Miles replied, 'Yes, Yes, all good." She continued to turn the corner into the conservatory. I should add that Miles never objected to other people listening to the radio.For some reason known only to himself, he often said that he liked people listening to the radio, so she felt at ease.She turned on the floor lamp next to the radio—the radio was at the furthest end of the room from Miles' room—and sat down.While tuning in, she heard a woman's voice in Miles' room. " "It startled her. She knew very well that Miles avoided other people in the house as much as possible. What's more, she knew that everyone in the mansion was out... probably all out. At this time, the first thing in her mind One idea was (and this she told me early next morning) that the housemaid was probably Margaret, the maid. She had heard of Miles' reputation as an old flamboyant, and Mrs. Henderson swore she often Saw Miles peeking at her. Miles would occasionally allow Margaret to go in when he wouldn't let anyone else into the room. (Other than the nurse, of course. But Miss Colbert wasn't exactly a good-looking girl , had nothing to do with the affair.) So, when the radio rang, Mrs. Henderson stared at it, and several suspicions raced through her mind: Miles was desperate to be alone that night, and when someone knocked on the door Visible bad temper, which makes her—gives her a bad feeling." Having said that, Mark hesitated for a moment, peeking at Henderson before saying the last few words.Henderson fidgeted. "So she stood up, making as little noise as possible, and crept over to the glass door. There was a faint sound behind the door, and it seemed that someone was still talking. But because the radio was on, she couldn't make out what was being said. Suddenly Then she found a place to peek. There was a brown velvet curtain drawn on the glass door, but it was not drawn very well. There was a high slit on the far left of the door, and a low one on the right. If you stand on tiptoe, you can use it. One eye peeked into the house. She peeked through the crack on the left first, and then went to the other side to peek. There was only one floor lamp on in the sun room, and it was far away from the glass door, so she didn't have to worry about being caught by the people in the house. I found out... In short, what she saw secretly finally let go of her moral worries. There was no romantic affair in the house. She thought that there would be a usual romantic drama in front of her, the kind that good women fear most. It turned out that there was no , maybe she is a little disappointed. But sometimes, the drama will have unusual developments... "Through the slit on the left, she could only see the opposite wall, at the top of which (which was also the back wall of the whole house) were two windows. Between the two windows stood a high-backed chair from Charles' time. , with walnut paneling on the wall, and a small head painting by Glotz, which Miles liked. She could see the chair, and most of the portrait, but there was no one in sight. So she Turn to the right seam. "This time she finally sees Miles and the other person. She can see the bed, the head of the bed is facing the wall on her right, which means the side of the bed is facing her. There is only one lamp on in the room. Dim bedside lamp. Miles sat on the bed in his dressing gown with a book folded open on his lap. He looked directly at the glass door, in the direction of Mrs. Henderson - but not Not looking at her. "Facing Miles, with her back to the glass door, stood a small woman. Remember, the room was dimly lit, and as she was facing the light, Mrs. Henderson could only see her in silhouette from behind. She couldn't move. She doesn't move, the figure is vague, but strangely she doesn't move at all. Fortunately, Mrs. Henderson is close enough to see the details of her clothing. Her description is very simple, that is: 'The clothes are exactly the same as those in the painting... ...you know.' She added that she was referring to the portrait of the Marquise de Brinivenia, except that she didn't call it by name, just like you," he looked at Henderson, "never Don't say 'crypt', just call it 'that place'. "Speaking of which, I'm a little surprised why she finds this scene strange. She knows that Lucy and Edith both went to the masquerade that night, even though she doesn't know the specific outfits of the two, seeing this woman's first The reaction should also be one of the two. And she admitted to me that she did have this idea, but later realized that it was someone else. I want to emphasize that she didn't think the scene in the room was so weird, just I vaguely felt that it looked 'somehow, very interesting'. I asked her what was interesting, and she said it was partly because of Miles' expression at the time. Miles was sitting in the dim light and could see the expression on his face at that time Yes, fear." Speaking of which, Mark paused, and everyone heard the sound of the wind blowing the trees through the open window. "But, my God!" said Stevens, keeping his voice as low as possible, "what about the woman? What else did Mrs. Henderson see about that woman? Like—was she blond or dark?" "You have to understand, she has said all she can say. She can't see the color of a woman's hair clearly." Mark replied calmly.He clasped his hands in front of him and said, "It seems that the woman wore a scarf or something on her head...not to cover her face, but to cover her hair, and a part of it hangs behind her...the headscarf Not too big, just hanging down to the modest square neck opening in the back. And (note that I'm quoting directly from Mrs. Henderson's vague description below) seems 'very interesting'. It doesn't look like a normal turban, but It was a silk scarf tied in the wrong place. From her description, I could tell that the above was an instant impression, and she also thought the woman’s neck was very interesting. It took me a lot of effort to get her to recall it, and after a few days she Just remembered to tell me. "She said she felt like the woman's neck wasn't completely in place."