Chapter 5 chapter Five

The whole body rolled down the sixteen steps from the zigzag stairs, and finally hit the head firmly on the wall at the foot of the stairs.It is conceivable that this movement is enough to shake the house and shake the tiles. In fact, Eva could barely remember the sound afterwards.This may be because of shock, or it may be because she always thought the sound would be loud, but she was nervous and didn't hear anything.For her, there was little time between Ned's fall and her panting rush to the foot of the stairs to check on him. She didn't want to hurt him.She has always believed that a woman with good looks and good nature, a woman who is elegant and sexy (although a little too sexy), should not be suspected of bad intentions no matter what she does.She knew, of course, that scandal was always on her mind, but she never went any further to figure out why it was always brushing around her skirts.As if all this was just a coincidence.

Eva's conscience was found again.She was so sure she had killed Ned Atwood that she had never loved him more than she did now.The turn of the stairs in the hall downstairs was so dark that she nearly tripped over Ned's body.It seemed like a fitting end to this nightmare, and she could have just opened the front door and called the police to bring it all together.She was about to breathe a sigh of relief and start sobbing when the corpse moved and started talking: "What the hell do you think you're playing? Why push me?" Although he breathed a sigh of relief, he still felt uncomfortable. "Can you get up? Are you hurt?"

"No, I wasn't hurt, of course. I was knocked out a little bit. I said—say, what's the matter?" "Shhh!" He seemed to prop himself up on his hands and knees, swayed, and then pulled himself up with an effort.His voice sounded mostly normal, just a little less firm.Eva bent down and helped him up with difficulty.She touched his face, reached out to stroke his hair; when she touched the wet and sticky blood, she retracted her hand again: "You are hurt!" "Bullshit! Just a bit knocked out, but it doesn't feel right. My shoulders don't feel right. God, this fell. Listen, why are you pushing me?"

"Honey, you have blood on your face! Do you have a match? Or a lighter? Light it up!" There was a brief pause. "The blood is coming out of my nose, I can feel it. But it's interesting, it doesn't seem to hit the nose; at least the nose doesn't feel it. Found the lighter, here." The flame of the lighter jumped up.He fumbled for the handkerchief, while Eva took the lighter from him and held it up high to look at him.Nothing seemed wrong with him, except that his hair was a little messy and his clothes were dusty.His nose kept bleeding; Eva felt sick at the blood left on her own hand.Ned stopped the bleeding easily, and put the handkerchief back in his pocket.He picked up the crumpled hat, dusted it off, and put it back on.

Ned's face was always slightly sullen and puzzled.He licked his lips several times and swallowed again, as if he was tasting an indescribable taste.He kept shaking his head and slackening his shoulders, checking that he was all right.His face was rather pale, his blue eyes were hollow, and his brow was frowning as if in deep thought. "Are you sure you're all right?" "I'm very well, thank you." He snatched the lighter from her and extinguished it.What flashed at this moment was the violent temper he had shown in the past. "Weird. Weird. Well, since you've tried to murder me, can you please, for God's sake, let me out of here?"

Yes.This was Ned Atwood, the same old man.She was frightened by ghosts.There was a moment when she almost thought... They walked silently through the dark villa to the back door in the kitchen.Eva opened the latch.Climbing up the steps outside the door, surrounded by high walls is a simple small garden.Along the wall was the gate to the backyard, which led to a path leading to Casino Drive. The back door opened silently.The warm air was drowsy, smelling of wet grass and roses.Far above the roof, the beams of the Great Inland Lighthouse flashed blindingly every twenty seconds.They stood for a while at the foot of the steps at the entrance of the garden.Eva could now hear commotion from the street along the front of the garden, which indicated the arrival of the police.

She leaned closer to his ear and whispered eagerly. "Wait, Ned. You were going to tell me who..." "Good night," said Mr. Atwood politely. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, absent-minded and careless.Eva felt a slight surge of blood.He touched her with the brim of his hat, turned around, staggered slightly up the steps, and walked firmly across the yard to the gate. Eva didn't dare to shout behind him, even though her fear and fear were already on the verge of breaking out.Ignoring the loosening of her pajamas belt again, she ran up the steps and gestured frantically at him, but he didn't pay attention.This prevented her from hearing the soft click of the rear door closing.

She had thought that once he got out of the house the danger would be over.She could breathe again; she would be free of this suffocating fear of being discovered. However, things did not return to the way they were.Eva was aware of a vague fear, not knowing where it came from.It's all about Ned Atwood.Ned had gone from the jolly, languid boy she had known before to a polite stranger, a little distant, a little scary, as if bewitched.He'll be all right in the morning, no doubt about it.But in the morning... Eva took a deep breath and walked quietly down the stairs.She put her hand on the door but couldn't push it.The door is closed.The snap lock locks from the inside.

For everyone in this world, there comes a day when everything goes wrong for no apparent reason.For most women, there will be more such days.Perhaps unsurprisingly at first, she broke her breakfast eggs: hardly a catastrophe, but one that women abhor.Then she broke something in the living room.After that it was all messed up.The hectic situation of home life may be like a snake's hibernation, dormant for a few weeks, and then suddenly awakens and begins to attack.The inanimate objects seemed to be possessed by demons, and she couldn't get enough of her frustrated rage to work her way through, and could only wonder, "What did I do to deserve this?"

That's what Eva thought in her mind as she tugged at the wind-blown doorknob. But…… How could the door be blown shut by the wind? But there was no wind.Although the night seemed cooler than she had expected, there was no sign of agitation under the clear starry sky and the trees in the garden. But now it doesn't matter.What good would it do to ask why, if it were the devil's horoscope that ordered it all to happen to her alone.Everything happened.All she had to think about now was how to get back into the house.The police would come and find her at any moment. knock on the door?

Wake up Yvette?The thought of Yvette's strong, expressionless face, with her tiny black eyes shining brightly, and her eyebrows sparsely intertwined, made her feel sick and angry.Admit it: she's afraid of Yvette, even though she has no idea why.Then how to get in?The windows are not good: the windows on the ground floor are closed every night, and even the shutters inside are drawn. Eva put her hand on her forehead, felt the sticky and wet blood again, and hurriedly took her hand away.Her pajamas must be all there too.She wanted to see the pajamas, but the light was too dim.With her relatively clean left hand she pulled the pajamas up to her eyes before finding in her pocket the front door key that Ned Atwood had returned to her. A voice in her head shouted: The streets are full of police!You can't go to the front door!Another voice whispered: Anyway, the stone walls of the villa will serve as a cover, and the people on the street will not see her.She could sneak around the house; besides, if she didn't make a sound, she might be able to get to the front door quickly without being noticed. It was a while before Eva made up her mind.As time passed by, she became more and more embarrassed, and finally tried to run cautiously.She clings to the wall and dashes out of breath into the front garden, almost running into Toby Lawes head-on. Of course, he didn't see her.This is the only good luck so far. As she expected, they were looking for her.Toby had crossed the street, wearing a long raincoat over his pajamas and shoes, and his hand was on the door of Villa Miramar. The wall facing the street was perhaps nine feet high, and the arched entrance had an iron grating gate.The dim high-hanging street lamps on Angel Road cast a ghostly green light on the branches of the chestnut trees; the shade of the trees covered the front garden of Eva's house, and the lights outlined Toby's figure outside the gate.Angel Road is not full of police.Quite the contrary, a nosy cop keeps Eva from being discovered by Toby.Toby was walking to the gate when a anxious voice thundered behind him. "Attendez la, jeune homme!" cried the voice, "Qu'est - ce je vois. Vous partez l'anglais, hein. Hein, hein, HEIN." (French, "Wait, young man! What do I see Do you speak English, hello? Hello, hello?") With every "hey", the syllables popped up like a cannonball, and the momentum gradually increased.The sound of footsteps came across the street. Toby turned around, spread his hands, and answered in French.He was fluent in French, though he spoke it with an odd accent that Eva often suspected was on purpose to show no concessions to any damned foreigner. "I'm just going to Ms. Nair's house. Right here!" He patted the door. "No, sir. Don't leave the house. Please go back. Quick, quick, quick!" "But, let me tell you—!" "Please go back. Please don't do anything stupid!" Toby made a resigned gesture of exasperation.Eva saw him turn under the streetlight: through the fence she saw the mild face, the short beard, the brown curls, taut now with some uncontrollable intensity.Toby raised his fist, no doubt in great pain, at least Eva felt it. "Monsieur Inspector," he said, remembering that Inspector in French means policeman, "do you remember my mother? She was upstairs in hysterics. You saw her." "Ah!" said the enforcer. "She wanted me to come to Ms. Neil. Ms. Neil was the only one who could help her. Except I didn't tell you. I just came here for a while." He started banging on the door again. "Sir, you can't go anywhere." "My father is dead..." "If there's a murder here," snapped the lawman, "is it my fault? The murder at La Bondelet! It's too much! I can't imagine what Mr. Glenn will say. In the Casino There's been a suicide—bad enough. And this time!" Then the hoarse voice grew desperate. "Oh my God, there's another one!" The annoyance this time was caused by another set of footsteps, light footsteps this time, hurrying across the street.In bright crimson pajamas, Janice Laws walked up to the two at the gate.Her fluffy light red hair was cut in a short bob, contrasting with the pajamas she was wearing and the paleness of her small face.At twenty-three, Janice was short and wiry, neat and tidy, vivacious and stubborn, with eighteenth-century curvaceousness and (sometimes) eighteenth-century demure.Now she cried out in a daze. "What's wrong?" she called to Toby. "Where's Eva? Why are you still standing here?" "Because the fool said..." "You let that guy block it? I won't." Law enforcers apparently understood English.Janice looked in through the bars of the gate and met Eva's eyes, but didn't see her.The sirens sounded again, making their scalps tingle. "This is calling my mates," said the policeman coldly. "Come, sir! Come, miss! Will you walk back with me in peace, or will you be escorted home?" He jumped into Eva's sight, grabbed Toby's arm, quickly pulled out a white hard rubber baton from under the cloak, and weighed it in his hand. "Sir!" his tone became heavy, "I'm sorry! It hurts me. You are too, to see your own father die like that." Then she went into the house, and she was in the warm, intimate darkness.The door closed gently, shutting all the unhappiness behind her.She made it, and was pretty sure no one saw her.Eva's heart was pounding; she felt the wet blood on her hand again; her brain seemed to be dulled.She squatted down in the dark, regained her breathing, and slowly calmed her mind and emotions so that she could talk to Toby in an orderly manner.Just then, the upstairs phone rang. Now she has nothing to fear.Everything would go back to normal, she told herself.Of course, everything will return to normal.Everything must return to normal.She wrapped her pajamas tighter, and went upstairs quietly to answer the phone.