Chapter 9 Chapter nine

Professor Reigold's face looked even paler under the rising moon, which fell on the water beside them. "Are you coming with me?" Miles said abruptly. He turned and led the way back to his house. On the west side of the gray forest is a wide lawn, trimmed short like a lawn for bowling, with wicker chairs, small tables and garden swings with brightly colored canopies faintly visible.Miles glanced at his side of the house as he walked.There was no light in the room.Although Fay's bedroom was arranged on the first floor, she should have turned off the lights and gone to bed.

Miles led the way around to the east side, through the reception room full of his uncle's collection of medieval weapons, and into the long and narrow living room.The cozy living room has tapestry chairs, low white bookshelves and a small da Vinci painting above the mantelpiece.The nightlight was the only light still lit, and the tiny flame made the house look ghostly, but Miles made no attempt to brighten it. After midnight the New Forest fell into a dead silence.He turns around. "I thought I should tell you," he said louder than necessary, "that I've had a long conversation with Miss Seton..."

Professor Reigold immediately went on to say, "She told you all?" (Calm! There's no reason to be stuck in the throat and unable to speak, or even have a pounding heartbeat.) "She told me the truth about Mr. Brooke's death, yes. The police finally thought it was a suicide, because there were only Mr. Brooke's own fingerprints on the stick. Is that right?" "That's right." "So, when this happened, Miss Seton was swimming in the river, some distance from the tower. Right?" "It's a little distance," said Professor Reigold, nodding. "That's right. But did she tell you about that young fellow, Pierre Fesnac? The son of Julie Fesnac?"

Miles almost shouted: "It's so annoying that we have to go to the bottom of everything by now? What the hell is going on! Even if this young guy named Fesnak and Seton What happened between the ladies..." "British," said Professor Reigold, taking a deep breath, and after a short pause, said timidly, "My God, this Englishman—" He turned his back to the lights, the light was too weak to discern his expression, and behind him was the tall black shadow of Dr. Phil.He leaned the yellow wooden hidden sword stick on the armrest of the brocade chair, and took off his hat.There was a tone in his voice, not loud, but it twitched Miles' nerves.

"You're like Horn Brooke," whispered Professor Reigold, "I tell you something and you think I'm just..." He hesitated to speak. He said aggressively: "Young man, you don't think a country farmer in the Eure Valley cares about such a small thing?" He snapped his fingers. "If he really knew that his son was having some affair with a local woman, he'd just laugh it off. I assure you, this little thing won't turn into a storm that will turn heads on all the peasants in the area, Julius. It is also impossible to openly throw stones at this lady on the road."

"what does this mean?" "Can you go back and think about what happened in the days before Horn Brooke was killed?" "I still have a little impression." "This young man, Pierre Fessnac, lives with his parents in a stone farmhouse between Chartres and Le Mans, a little distance from the road. Here, I want to emphasize that his The bedrooms are in the attic above the three-story building." "so what?" "Pierre was sick for a while, weak and in a daze. He didn't understand what was going on, and he thought the whole thing was a bad dream, and he didn't dare to say it, so he didn't confide a word to anyone. Just Like other young men, he dared not think about it for fear of getting into trouble, so he wrapped a scarf around his neck and kept silent.

"He took what he saw as a dream, night after night, the pale face floating outside the attic window. When he saw the man floating up from the surface of the earth, he thought he was dreaming. Like a wick after being twisted The light would gradually dim, and his physical strength and consciousness would gradually become paralyzed and weakened. Not long after, his father tore off the bandage tied around his throat, only to find a sharp tooth mark on his neck that had been sucked blood." When the words paused, Miles held his temper, waiting for someone to laugh. He waited for someone to break the silence.He waited for Professor Reigold to throw his head back and snicker to himself with his gold teeth showing.He waited for Dr. Fell to laugh.However nothing happened.No one even had the intention of smiling, or asking if he liked the joke.What robbed him of his wits, paralyzed him, was the verdict, pronounced as firmly and solemnly as in a police court: "He has a sharp tooth mark on his neck from which blood has been sucked."

Miles heard his own voice as if coming from far away. "Are you crazy?" "not at all." "You mean—?" "That's right," said Professor Regold. "I mean a vampire. I mean a living vampire. I mean a vampire who sucks blood and soul." Pale faces fluttered outside the attic window. Pale faces flutter outside the attic window... Even though Miles couldn't laugh, he tried to, but the sound stuck in his throat. Professor Reigold went on: "Horver Brooke, very simple minded, knows nothing of such things. He sees it as a country farm boy hooking up with an older woman. Being an Englishman , he felt very astonished. He thought that all the lewd women in the world could be bought with money. So..."

"So what?" "He's dead. That's all." Professor Reigold shook his bald head solemnly, and picked up his hidden sword and cane. "Last night... I tried to use my poor sense of humor to tease you with this puzzle. I stated the objective facts obliquely, and told you that this woman is not guilty according to common sense. I also told you that in general By worldly standards, she was a well-bred, if overly prim woman. "None of what I've said has dealt with her deeper undergarments—the souls of which she may be unconscious, but which I am deeply curious about. Nor is there any mention of being hypnotized or falling asleep and getting out of my body in another way. A soul in visible form. This soul, like a pale face floating outside an attic window, feeds on human blood.

"Had Howo consulted with me beforehand, I might have been able to help. But no, no, no! This woman is too slutty to advertise it. Maybe I should have told you on the outside. I speculate privately. Red hair, slender figure, and blue eyes are all consistent with the vampire in the legend, and in the legend, these are signs of lust. But my reaction was always very slow, until Horo was killed , I know why those peasants are trying to lynch her like a mob." Miles put a hand to his forehead and pressed it heavily. "You must not be serious! What you said must not be..." "This matter—" Professor Reigold added.

"Let's put it this way. What you mean is that Fay Thurton killed Horward Brook?" "The vampires did it. Because the vampires hate him." "This is clearly a murder case using a sharp sword as a murder weapon! Don't get involved with strange powers!" Professor Reigold said coldly: "Then, how did the murderer approach and leave the victim?" There was another long silence. "Listen to me," Miles growled, "I'll tell you again, you must not be serious! You, as a practical person, shouldn't explain this as a supernatural phenomenon..." "No, no, no!" Professor Reigold responded three times in a row like a hammer, and suddenly flicked his fingers. "What do you mean 'no'?" "I've been arguing with my colleagues at school about the word 'paranormal'. The question is. Can you refute the facts I've presented?" "Obviously not." "That's right!—hypothetical—whatever I say about vampires is hypothetical. Don't you think that's the only way to explain all the strange behavior of Faye Seton while he was staying at Brooke's?" "But if you think about it—" "Let me tell you," Professor Reigold's small eyes flashed with a pursuit of victory. "What I'm going to say is this: Now we're faced with some established facts, please explain. Facts, facts, facts. Since you can't explain it, I have to—have to, have to—say this supernatural Nonsense, because my statements have turned your world upside down and frightened you. Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. But now I'm the real one, and you're the superstitious one." He stole a glance at Dr. Fell. "Do you agree with me, dear doctor?" Dr. Fell leaned against the lower edge of the white bookshelf, arms folded in a folded cloak, eyes staring absently at the dim flame of an oil lamp.Miles was relieved that Dr. Phil was there.The doctor occasionally snorted or stuffed his nose, as if in a half-dream, his chest heaved and the black straps on his glasses wobbled. His face was as red as a radiator, like old King Cole in his own castle, exuding a reassuring aura that even filled his own castle with a heart-warming comfort.Miles thinks that Dr. Phil is kind-hearted, sincere and upright, always absent-minded, but often blooms with wisdom and charm when he is half asleep and half awake.But at this time, his lower lip was pursed, his bandit-like mustache was drawn back, and his face appeared ferocious. "Do you agree with me, dear doctor?" Reigold insisted. "Sir—" Dr. Phil spoke, posing as an authoritative speaker like Dr. Johnson.Then, seeming to change his mind, he swallowed his words and scratched his nose. "Sir?" Reigold urged politely. "I don't deny it," Dr. Fell said, waving a heavy arm that nearly killed the bronze statue on the shelf behind it. "I don't deny that there are supernatural forces in this world. In fact. I am sure that supernatural forces must exist." "Vampire?" Miles Hammond said. "That's right," Dr. Phil agreed, with a serious expression that made Miles' heart sink, "even vampires." Dr. Phil's cane rests against the edge of the bookshelf.But now he looked more absent-mindedly at the thick yellow wooden staff with a hidden sword still hooked on Reigold's arm. Dr. Fell walked forward panting and clumsily, picked up Reigold's cane, held it between his fingers, and fiddled with it carelessly.His eyes were lost, and he sat down on a large brocade chair by the fireplace.As soon as he sat down, the whole room seemed to shake, despite the solid structure of the room. "But I do believe in one thing," he went on, "that anyone who studies the soul will first examine all the facts." Professor Reigold protested: "Sir, what I said is the truth." "Professor. No doubt," Dr. Phil responded. He frowned and squinted at the hidden sword and wooden staff.Slowly unscrew the blade, pull it out of the scabbard, and examine it carefully.He held the straps close to his skewed glasses, trying to look into the scabbard.When the learned Bo Shi woke up and spoke again, his voice was like a little boy. "Excuse me. Does anyone have a magnifying glass?" "We have one at home," said Miles, trying to reconcile himself, "but I can't quite remember where I saw it the last time. Need me to . . . ?" "Frankly," Dr. Phil confessed in a guilty tone, "I don't know how much this thing will help me, but it will leave an impressive image and give the user a sense of arrogance." Feeling. Huh," he changed his tone, "I think someone said there was blood in the scabbard?" Professor Reigold almost jumped his feet at this moment. "There was indeed blood in it. I told Miss Moore and Mr. Hammond so last night. I told you the same thing this morning," he asked defiantly. "So?" "That's right," Dr. Phil nodded slowly like a lion king. "That's another key." After fumbling awkwardly in the coat pocket inside the cloak, Dr. Fell pulled out a bundle of folded manuscripts.Miles recognized at a glance that it was Professor Reigold's record for the Murder Club on the case of the Brooke family; it was once snatched by Barbara Moore, and then Miles returned it to its owner.Dr. Fell twisted the weight in his hands. "Professor Reigold just handed over this stack of manuscripts to me this morning," he said with reverence in his tone, "everything between the lines makes my eyes shine. Oh, my God! This is for The record written by the club, but it also immediately raises a serious question," he fixed his eyes on Miles, "who is Barbara Moore? Why did she look distraught at the Murder Club dinner?" "Oh," Professor Reigold took a breath, nodded and rubbed his hands together, "I'm also very curious about this. Who is Barbara Moore?" Miles stared back at the two of them. "Damn, don't look at me like that! I don't know who she is either." Professor Reigold raised his eyebrows: "But does anyone remember that you sent her home last night?" "I just sent her to the subway station, that's all." "Did you not continue to discuss the case?" "No, really no—" The stocky French gentleman had a frightened look in his eyes. "Last night," said Professor Reggold to Dr. Fell after watching Miles carefully for a long time, "the young Miss Moore seemed very distraught on several occasions. Yes, it was obvious that she and Fay Miss Seton is well connected and knows her very well." "On the contrary," said Miles, "Miss Seton denies that she ever met Barbara Moore, let alone knew anything about her." Miles' words sounded like a gong, beckoning everyone to be quiet.Professor Reigold had a grim expression on his face. "She told you?" "That's right." "when?" "Tonight. In the library, when I asked—about these things." "So!" Professor Reigold changed his tone again, and the atmosphere of the conversation was lifted, "As one of her victims," ​​these harsh words seemed to punch Miles in the face—"You are at least the most A kind one! How dare you take the initiative to bring up this topic and question her with this matter?" "It's not that I deliberately brought up this topic, not at all." "Did she mention it herself?" "Yes. If you really want to say so." "Sir," Dr. Phil said, sitting in the back of the chair with the manuscript, with the hidden sword and cane resting on his knees, with a very curious expression on his face. "I said you would do me a great favor if you could tell me exactly what this lady said. Really, you would do me a great favor. You'd better tell me right now, without prejudice or embellishment. .” It must be getting late, Miles thought.The house was so quiet that he imagined he could hear the kitchen bell ringing in the back.Marian on the upper floor of the library should have fallen asleep, and Fay on the first floor should have fallen asleep as well.The moonlight shining in through the window was dead and gray.Illuminated by the faint flame of the only oil lamp, the shadows of the rectangular panes were cast on the opposite wall. Miles' throat was dry, and he spoke slowly and cautiously.Interrupted only once by a few questions from Dr. Phil. "Jimmy Moore!" the Doctor repeated the name, and Reigold jumped with fright. "This man is Harry Brook's close friend, he will write a letter to this man every week," he turned his head to Regaud, "Are you familiar with Jimmy Moore?" Reigold leaned against the edge of the table, bent his body, cupped his palms and pressed them to his ears, and said very firmly: "Dear doctor, I have searched all over my memory, but I have never heard of this person." "Did Harry Brook never mention this man to you?" "there has never been." Dr. Phil tapped the stack of manuscripts: "Your clear and detailed records do not mention this person. Not even the statements of other witnesses. However, Harry Brook and this person often go back and forth. ——” Dr. Phil was silent for a while.Perhaps because of the light, an expression flashed in his eyes. "It's all right!" he said, "Go on!" However, before Miles' story ends, he sees the same look again, fleetingly.Dr. Phil always listened with half-closed eyes in a trance and surprise.This expression is creepy.Myers narrated the incident mechanically from beginning to end, but his heart was as restless as a galloping horse. Of course Dr. Phil didn't believe in nonsense like vampires.Reigold may have sincerely believed that evil spirits would inhabit living bodies, and would come out in another form visible to the naked eye, with pale faces floating in the air outside the window. Dr. Phil wouldn't think so.This is just a hypothesis!Miles now wants with all his heart to hear him say "no." Miles just begged Dr. Fell to say a word, to make a gesture, to wink, so as to blow away the fog of suspicion that Professor Reigold called a vampire.He is eagerly looking forward to: "Come on! Come on! My God!" Twist your fat jaw, move your huge body, and slump in the chair like the Phil I knew in the old days, He stomped the floor with the metal head of his cane. Miles didn't get any response. On the contrary, when Miles finished speaking, Phil Boss covered his eyes with his hands and sat back in the chair, with the blood-stained wooden staff of hidden sword lying across his lap. "That's it?" he asked. "That's right, that's it." Dr. Fell cleared his throat vigorously, and said to Professor Reigold, "Old friend, I have some very important questions for you," and he picked up the stack of manuscripts. "When you wrote this, did you deliberately consider the words?" Reigold straightened up unnaturally. "Is it important?" "You didn't add oil and vinegar, did you?" "Of course, I assure you! Why should I do this?" "Then I'll read it to you," said Philboy. "These two or three lines are about the last time you saw Mr. Howard Brooke on the top of the tower before he was killed." "How about it?" Dr. Phil licked his thumb, adjusted the black laces on his glasses, and flipped through the stack of manuscripts. He read aloud: "'Mr. Brooke is still leaning against the parapet, and still won't turn around. The crutch is at his side—'" "Excuse me, let me interrupt," Miles said. "This sounds exactly like what Professor Reigold said last night. He's just stating what he wrote." "That's right, word for word," Professor Reigold said with a smile, "very fluent, right? I know everything by heart. Young man, you can find everything I tell you in my manuscript. Continue Read it!" Dr. Phil looked at him curiously. "You go on to describe Mr. Brooke in this paragraph—' On one side of his crutches, a stick of slightly gleaming yellow wood, leaning against the parapet. The parapet of the emplacement is about chest high; the stone is cracked, damaged, scarred, and has white scratches where someone signed their initials.'” Dr. Phil closed the manuscript and continued typing. He asked: "These descriptions are not wrong, are they?" "It's true!" "There is only one small question," Dr. Phil raised, "that is the hidden sword wooden staff. It is mentioned in your detailed record that the police took back the upper and lower halves of the hidden sword wooden staff for inspection. I assume When the police moved the evidence, they didn’t put them back, did they? The scabbard and blade were treated separately according to the condition when they were found?” "Exactly!" Miles couldn't hold his breath anymore. "For God's sake, Doctor, can you stop beating around the bush? At least tell us what you think and where we're going!" He raised his voice, "You don't believe it at all, do you?" Dr. Phil squinted at him: "What don't you believe?" "vampire!" Dr. Phil said softly, "Oh, of course I don't believe it!" [Miles, of course, knew this already.He told himself so, snickering to himself.He put down a big stone in his chest, ready to laugh.However, with a breath stuck in his chest, a warm feeling of relaxation swept over his whole body, and now he will no longer hear the fallacies of strange power and chaos. ) Dr. Phil's face is solemn: "The crazy racing to Xinlin tonight is all due to Reigold's romantic impulse. He, huh, has always wanted to come and see your uncle's library, otherwise we two old gentlemen would not Would be content to go back to London just like that. But before we go . . . " "For the sake of the evil spirits all over the mountains and plains," Miles said excitedly, "you don't plan to rush back to London overnight, do you?" "You don't intend to rush back to London overnight?" Miles said: "I would like to keep you overnight, although there are very few available rooms. I hope to see you both again tomorrow morning, so that I can gather my mind. And my sister Marianne! When she hears the second half of the story ..." "Your sister has heard about it?" "That's right, but not much. That's when it came to my mind, I just asked her tonight, what would she do if she encountered a...horrible and supernatural event, with ghosts floating in the air? I hadn't Hear stories about vampires." Dr. Phil whispered, "Oh! What did she say she would do?" "She said she would shoot it with a revolver. The only sensible thing to do now is to make a joke like Marianne." He bowed to Professor Reigold. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Professor Reigold. I came all the way to tell me to beware of the pale vampire with blood on the corner of his mouth. I heard it, and I only felt that Miss Fay had really gone through a very difficult time. I do not think so……" He stopped suddenly. There was a loud bang not far upstairs.The sound is louder in the still night.The loud bang that broke the silence couldn't be more clear.It made Professor Reigold, who was sitting on the edge of a small table, stiffen.Dr. Phil's huge body suddenly twitched, his glasses slipped from his nose, and his hidden sword and wooden staff slowly fell to the ground.The three men present were motionless and could not even raise their hands.What they heard was gunshots.