Chapter 7 Chapter VII

"Nonsense, my dear Janice," Elena replied, "you're crazy." Uncle Ben leaned forward and touched the ear of the King Charles Spaniel uneasily by the side of the coffee table. The slightly shocked and troubled look on his face said it all. "I'm not crazy," Ganice snapped back in a low voice as she took off her gloves, showing that she had been listening. "And I'm not dreaming, I'm not guessing, I'm not thinking wildly. Let me tell you—" Her voice rose suddenly, and she glanced at Eva, but deliberately avoided her eyes. "They're coming to arrest Eva!"

Elena's eyes widened. "But why?" "Mom dear, because they think she did it!" "What nasty nonsense," Irene sighed.But at the same time, there was an unsettling silence in the air after the shock. This is not true, Eva told herself.This is impossible.It never occurred to her the slightest possibility of this. Eva put down her teacup mechanically.The tearoom at Villa Happiness is long and empty, with a well-polished hardwood floor.The front windows look towards Angel Road; while the rear windows can see the green and rather cool evening in the large garden.There was a coffee table in the room, and beside it was a golden-brown shaggy beagle looking up at Uncle Ben with big eyes.Uncle Ben himself was a stocky man of medium build, with gray hair and a taciturn, yet warm smile.Irena, short, fat and friendly, was a little out of breath, with a round red face under short silver-white hair, and there was a smile on her face at the moment, as if she was firm and a little hesitant.

And of course there's Janice, talking about... Janice looked as though she was trying to prepare herself for what was to come.She looked directly at Eva. "Listen, Eva," she said pityingly, licking her lips.Janice has a big mouth, but that doesn't detract from her pretty face. "We know you didn't, of course." There was desperate apology in her tone, but she couldn't look Eva in the eye anymore. "Then why would they—" Irene began. "Doubt—" Uncle Ben answered the question for her. "It's all the same," Ganice continued, staring at the mirror on the mantelpiece. "You didn't go out that night did you? You didn't come back... bloody? Did you have a key to this house in your pocket? A piece of... that snuff bottle on your nightgown? None of this is real, is it?"

The originally friendly atmosphere in the tea room suddenly became weak.Only the begging grunt came from the dog's throat.Elena Rouse fumbles slowly with a spectacle case; then pulls out a pair of rimless pince-nez, puts them on, and looks at them one by one.Her mouth is still open. "Is this true, Ganice?" she said nervously. "What I said," replied Ganice, "I heard it from the Lord Policeman. And I'm sure of it!" The crowd began to chatter, and she persisted. Uncle Ben Phillips brushed the crumbs off his knees, began pinching the beagle's ears absently again, and finally reached into his pocket as usual for his pipe.His wrinkled forehead and gentle ice-blue eyes all revealed worry and uneasiness, which he couldn't hide even if he wanted to.

"I was at Toyong Hotel," Janice explained, "drinking." "Ganice, honey," Irene said mechanically. "I hope you don't go to that kind of—" "I overheard Glenn talking to a doctor, a great guy in criminal psychology. He was British: I mean the doctor, not Glenn; I saw his picture somewhere. Glenn said that day At night Eva came home covered in blood, with a piece of snuff bottle stuck to her body." Janice still wasn't looking at anyone.The shock had passed, and fear had come in its place. "He said they had two witnesses, Yvette and Celestine, who saw her. The police got her pajamas; there was blood on it..."

Eva Nair leaned back stiffly in her chair.She stared at Janice without seeming to see her.Eva wanted to laugh out loud, and keep laughing until the ominous, evil noise in her head was gone. Charge her with murder!It would have been funny, if it hadn't dealt a blow to her heart.In a way, it's funny.But the uncanny part about that "fragment of a snuff bottle"—the one that made her dizzy in its ugliness—wasn't funny at all.It must have been a misunderstanding, or else it was malicious intent to corner her and kill her.Of course, she told herself, she had no need to be afraid of the police.The false accusation that she had killed poor old Papa Louth would surely be easily disproved.She could explain about Ned Atwood anyway, and he could testify.

He should be able to prove that she didn't murder anyone.But to explain about Ned... "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" she exclaimed. "At least, please let me take a breath first!" "That's not true, is it?" Ganice insisted. Eva made a vehement gesture. "Of course not!" said Eva. "That's just—" A desperate hesitation seized her.Her voice was trembling, and the trembling was clearly audible, as if giving birth to some redundant explanations. "No, of course not," said Uncle Ben firmly.He then cleared his throat.

"So why," insisted Janice, "are you saying 'that's just'?" "I—I don't understand what you mean." "At first you were okay," said Janice, "and then you bit your lip and your eyes didn't look right, and at the end you added 'that's just' to make it feel like there was something real about it." (Oh my god, how can I say this?) "It's not true at all, is it?" Ganice pursued. "It can't be half true and half false, is it possible?" "Of course," Uncle Ben observed, then cleared his throat and said reluctantly, "see what the girl says."

Three pairs of kind and harmless eyes turned together and locked on Eva.For a second she felt breathless. Reality came slowly, but surely.All of this, either a lie or a misunderstanding, or worse, the "fragment of the snuff bottle" was flying back and forth in her mind in a provocative and frightening gesture.Some of them, however, are indeed true, and the police can prove them.It does no good to deny these facts. "Tell me," Eva said tentatively, "to be honest, do you, all of you, really think that I, ever wanted to... er, hurt... him, anyone?" "No, dear, of course not," Irene reassured her.Her near-sighted gaze became more earnest. "Just tell us that's not true. We just want to hear that."

"Eva," said Ganice calmly, "what was your life like before you met Toby?" For the first time since she stepped foot in the house, she was asked questions about her personal life. "Hey, really, Janice!" Irene objected, becoming more fussy. Janice ignored her.Janice walked over softly and sat on a low spring chair, facing Eva.Her skin was fair, it could even be said to be transparent, and her red hair was paired with an unpleasant blue tinge against the backdrop of her excitement.Janice's large brown eyes fixed on Eva with a mixture of admiration and loathing.

"Don't think I'm blaming you for this!" she said, with the unthinking air of a twenty-three-year-old. "I admire you quite a bit, really. I've always admired you. That's why I just said it today." It's because the lord cop talked about that too. I mean, you might have a motive to hurt Dad. Watch out! I'm not saying you did it. I don't even think you did it, it's inevitable. It's just... " Uncle Ben coughed. "I hope we all have a little more heart," Irene said. "That is, except for Toby and poor Morris. But really, Janice!" Janice continued to ignore the words. "You were once married to that Atwood man, weren't you?" "Yes," Eva said. "I was married to him, of course." "He's back at La Bondelet now, you know." Eva licked her lips. "yes?" "Yes. A week ago today, he was sitting in the bar of Dongyong Hotel chatting with people. He mentioned that you still love him, and said that in order to get you back, he would not hesitate to tell our family everything about you. .” Eva sat impassive.It seemed that her heart stopped beating for a moment, and then showed an extremely large and heavy rhythm.The utter injustice left her speechless. Janice turned to the crowd. "Do you remember," she went on, "what happened the afternoon Papa died?" Elena blinked. "How did he come back here," insisted Janice, "looking terribly quiet and eccentric and very angry? And how did he refuse to go to the theater with us? And won't say why? He didn't feel better until the art dealer called about the snuff bottle? Also, what did he say to Toby before Toby left for the theater with us? Since then Toby's behavior has also changed. Get weird?" "Huh?" echoed Uncle Ben, examining his pipe carefully. "Nonsense," Irene said.But for the first time that night, tears welled up in her eyes, and her round face lost some smile lines and a little color. "Toby was dull that night only because Mrs. Warren's Occupation play was—well, about whores." Eva sat up straight. "Daddy's favorite afternoon walk," said Janice, "is the zoo behind the Toyong Hotel. Suppose Mr. Atwood is behind him at this time, and tell him something..." Janice didn't finish her sentence, she turned her head to Eva, looking directly at her. "Then Dad came home in that weird bad mood. He said something to Toby and Toby didn't believe him. Come to think of it, that's it! But Toby, you remember, that day Insomnia at night, he still called Eva at one o'clock in the middle of the night. Suppose he mentioned what Dad said to her? Then suppose Eva ran over to argue with Dad, and then..." "Just a moment, please," Eva said quietly. Before speaking, she allowed herself to slow down her rapid breathing. "What have you guys thought of me all this time?" she asked. "Nothing, dear! Nothing!" cried Irene, fumbling for her pince-nez and taking them off. "There's no one like you anymore! Oh my God, I can't find a handkerchief when I need it! Only, when Janice starts talking about blood and God knows what other shit, you don't Without outright denying them..." "Yes," said Uncle Ben. "But it's not the only thing," insists Eva. "I just wanted to know, all this minutiae of speculation implying, how come you never mentioned all of this? Are you implying that Mrs. Warren's Occupation should be Ms. Neir's Occupation? Yes. Bar?" Elena was taken aback. "No, dear. God, no!" "So what? I know what people say about me behind my back, or at least, they used to say. It's not true. But if I keep hearing that for a long time, I wish it was true !" "What about the murder?" Ganice asked quietly. Janice has a childlike directness.She was no longer the bubbly, big-talking little girl, clumsily imitating the ways of the world, wrinkling her nose at the confusion of her age.She sat in a low chair with her hands folded over her knees, her eyelids glistening with tears, and her brown eyeballs blinked and her lips began to tremble. "Look," she explained, "it's precisely because we've idealized you so..." She finished her expression with gestures again.Eva found it all the more difficult when she opened up to these people. "Are you still in love with Mr. Atwood?" Ganice asked. "No!" "So have you been playing the hypocrite this week? Is there anything you haven't told us?" "No. It's just—" "I think," whispered Uncle Ben, "she looks a little haggard. Maybe we'll all be like that soon." He had just produced a pocketknife and was scraping the inside of the bowl of his pipe.Now that heavy, sad face lifted, and he looked at Elena. "Do you remember, baby?" "Remember what?" Elena said. "I was working on the car, and I was just sticking out my hands with gloves on, my brown leather work gloves, and she was like she was going to pass out. Of course, I admit, the gloves were not very clean." Eva buried her eyes deep between her palms. "No one believes the gossip about you," Elena said softly. "But other things are different." She became a little breathless. "You haven't answered Ganice's question. Did you go outside the house that night?" "Go," Eva said. "So do you have blood on you?" "Yes, a little bit." Now in this tea room, the afterglow of the setting sun still lingers in the window, and there is silence save for the grunting of the beagle, who lies sleepily, scratching the hardwood floor, ears hanging on the soles of his feet .Even the sound of Uncle Ben scraping his pipe with his knife had stopped.Three people dressed in gray, two women in black and a man in dark gray looked at Eva together, with varying degrees of shock and disbelief in their expressions. "Don't look at me like that!" Eva nearly screamed. "It's not like that. I have nothing to do with murder or anything. I like him. Those were just misunderstandings, a terrible misunderstanding, it seems. I can't get rid of it." Janice parted her pale lips. "Did you come to the house that night?" "No. I swear I didn't!" "Then why is the key to this house in your pajamas pocket?" "That's not the key to this house. It's the key to my own house. It has nothing to do with your house! Let me tell you what happened that night. I've always wanted to, but I didn't dare." "Oh?" Elena said. "Why didn't you dare tell us?" Even before she spoke, Eva felt a joyless sarcasm and struggle with what she had to say.But many people should think this is funny.If some conflicting gods ruled her destination, they must have begun to splinter by now.You can even hear the laughter echoing through every word. "I dare not tell you," she replied, "because Ned Atwood was in my room."