Chapter 9 Chapter nine

Ten minutes later, Mr. Glenn sat in his chair and leaned forward with the attention of a cat.He began his inquiries in English, but his excitement scrambled his English beyond comprehension, and he ended up switching straight back to French. "Ma'am?" Glenn asked, with the effect of poking her again. "And then?" "What else is there to say?" Eva said helplessly. "Mr. Atwood tiptoed upstairs with the key. Then," Mr. Glenn cleared his throat, "he tried to overpower you, didn't he?" "yes." "This, of course, is against your will?"

"certainly!" "Understood!" Mr. Glenn calmed her down. "And then, ma'am?" "I beg him to leave the room well and not mess around, for Sir Maurice Lawes is sitting in the room opposite." "and then?" "He started drawing the curtains to see if Sir Morris was in the study. I put out the light—" "You turned off the lights?" "Yes, I'm sure!" Mr. Glenn frowned: "Excuse me, ma'am. But it's very odd to try to prevent Mr. Atwood from opening the curtains and turning off the lights?" "I said I didn't want Sir Morris to know."

Mr. Glenn thought for a moment. "Then Madam admits," he said tentatively, "that the fear of being found out makes you... shall we say... resolute?" "No, no, no!" In the evening, the light in the long living room dimmed.Every member of the Routh family stood or sat like a wax figure, with no expression on their faces, at least no expressions that could be read.Toby was still by the fireplace, and now he reached out his hand naturally towards the fireplace, although there was no fire in the fireplace. The chief of police did not bully or threaten Eva, and his expression was still anxious.Mr. Glenn, alone, and a Frenchman at that, was merely trying to understand the situation which bewildered him. "Are you afraid of Atwood?"

"Yes, very scared." "But you still didn't try to get Sir Maurice's attention, even though he was within sight and hearing." "I said, I can't!" "For example, what was Sir Morris doing at that time?" "He's sitting," Eva replied, vividly in her mind. "He's sitting at a table with a magnifying glass in his hand, looking at something. It's—" "Well, ma'am?" She was about to say, "There was someone else with him at the time," but she held back when she considered what it would mean to say that in front of members of the Routh family.The scene at that time appeared again in her mind.The old man is saying something, the magnifying glass, the back view behind him. "That thing is a snuff bottle," she said again, in a soft tone, "he is watching."

"When is this, ma'am?" "I, I don't remember!" "and then?" "Ned came close to me, and I broke free. I begged him not to wake the servants." Eva's words were true in every word; but the interrogator's expression changed slightly when he heard the last sentence. "Don't you understand? I don't want the servants to know. Then the phone rang." "Ah!" said Mr. Glenn with satisfaction. "That said, it should be easy to determine the time." He turned his head. "I think it was you, Mr. Laws, who called the lady at one o'clock in the morning."

Toby nodded, but he didn't pay much attention to what the chief of police said.He casually said to Eva, "So when you were talking to me," Toby said, "that guy was actually in your room?" "I'm sorry, honey! I didn't want you to know that." "Yes," Agnes agreed, sitting impassively in a low chair. "You didn't want to." "Stand by your side," Toby murmured, "sit by your side. Maybe, even..." He gestured. "You still sound so calm, as if it doesn't matter at all, as if you just woke up in the middle of the night, and you have nothing on your mind except me."

"Please go on," Mr. Glenn interrupted Toby. "After that," Eva said, "I ordered him out and he still wouldn't. He said he wouldn't allow me to make mistakes." "Ma'am, what does he mean?" "He didn't think I could marry Toby. He thought he could make people think I had something with him, though not really, if he leaned out the window and yelled at Sir Maurice that he was in my bedroom. When Ned got the idea, he went completely mad. He walked toward the window, and I followed. But when we looked out..." She spread out her hands.For Dr. Kinross, for Aristide Glenn, for anyone sensitive to the atmosphere of the scene, this pause was definitely unfortunate.

A little noise.Elena Laws, with her hands on her chest, coughed slightly.Benjamin Phillips, who had been carefully stuffing tobacco into his pipe, now lit a match; the sound of the match was like the whisper of the flame before it ignited.Janice remained expressionless, her big innocent eyes slowly realizing what was going on.But it was Toby who spoke. "You look out of the windows?" he asked. Eva nodded vigorously. "when?" "Just after that..." She doesn't need to say anything.Whispers came and went.It seems that these whispers are to avoid ambushes or to attract ghosts.

"Didn't you see—?" Irene asked first. "Anyone?" Ganice continued. "Anything?" murmured Uncle Ben. Dermot sat quietly in an unnoticed corner, resting his chin on his fist, staring at Eva all the time.Dermot ruminates over the implications of this abruptly unconvincing story. His analysis led to the following conclusions: Hyperthyroid type.be imaginative.Vulnerable.Kind and generous, perhaps too much for its own benefit.Extremely loyal to those who treat her well.Yes, this woman could be the murderer, if encouraged enough.Dermot found it a disturbing thought, one that pierced through a strong belief he had built on two decades of emotional foundations.

He watched her sit in the big leather chair; fingers tightened on the armrest, then let go.He observed the detailed facial features, his lips were tightly closed, and the nerves in his neck were beating.Tiny wrinkles on the forehead seemed to balance a desperate problem.He watched her gray eyes move from Toby to Janice, then to Elena, then to Uncle Ben, and finally back to Toby. Dermot thought to himself: This woman is going to lie. "No!" Eva said loudly; her body stiffened, as if a decision had been made. "We didn't see anyone or anything." "We," said Toby, striking the mantelpiece with both hands. "'We' saw nothing!"

Mr. Glenn winked him to be quiet. "But it seems," he continued, with some danger in his mild tone, "that the lady saw something. Is Sir Morris dead?" "yes!" "Can you see him clearly?" "yes!" "Then how do you know, ma'am," said the police chief mildly, "that he was killed 'just at that time'?" "I don't know, of course," Eva said after a short pause.Her gray eyes were fixed on Mr. Glenn; her chest rose and fell slowly: "I mean, I just imagined and decided it must be that way." "Go ahead, please," Mr. Glenn said, taking a breath and snapping his fingers in the air. "Poor Elena came in and started screaming. I ordered Ned to get out, and this time I was firm." "Oh? Ma'am, were you unresolute before?" "I'm determined too! I mean, I'm determined too! Only this time, I mean, it's so serious that he knows he has to go. Before he goes, I get the key back from him and put it in my pajamas When going downstairs, he..." Here she seemed to realize how unreasonable, almost absurd, she was going to say, "while going downstairs, he slipped and fell on the stairs and hurt his nose." "Nose?" repeated Mr. Glenn. "Yes. Bleeding. I touched him, so there's blood on his hands and clothes. That blood you're fussing about, it's Ned Atwood's." "Really, ma'am?" "You don't ask me! Ask Ned! He may not be very good, but at least he will confirm everything you have me say on this occasion." "Will he, ma'am?" Eva nodded desperately again.She glanced at the people around her, her eyes full of pleading for help.This woman made Dermot Kinross have no confidence in his own judgment.He was puzzled and disgusted by this feeling.He had never felt this way in his life.But the calm analysis part of his mind told him that Eva was telling the truth, except on the point where she hesitated. "Regarding Mr. Atwood," continued the Constable, "you say he 'slid down the stairs and hurt his nose.' No other injuries?" "No other injuries? I don't understand?" "He didn't hurt his, say, his head?" Eva frowned: "I can't say, it's possible. The stairs are high and steep, and he fell completely. I can't see clearly in the dark, but at least the blood must be from his nose." Mr. Glenn smiled vaguely, as if he had been looking forward to this for a long time. "Go on, dear lady!" "I let him go out the back door..." "Why the back door?" "Because the street outside was full of police. He left. At that moment, something happened. The back door of my house was a latch. I stood outside watching him go, and the wind blew the door shut. I was locked out." After a brief pause, the members of the Rolls family looked at each other with strange expressions.Irena gasped slightly dissatisfied, "Honey, you must be mistaken?" she asked, "The wind blew the door shut? Can't you remember?" "That night, there wasn't a breath of wind all night," Ganice went on. "We were talking about it in the theater." "I, I know." "Oh, my dear!" said Irena incredulously. "I mean, I thought about it at the time. It's just that, after the fact, I tried to find a reasonable explanation. Maybe someone deliberately pushed and closed the door." "Uh huh?" said Mr. Glenn. "Who?" "Yvette, my maid." Eva clenched her fists and sat on the chair in extreme pain, "Why does she hate me so much?" Mr. Glenn raised his eyebrows even higher. "Madam, I understand you to mean that you accuse Yvette Ladour of closing the door on purpose and locking you out?" "I swear to you all, I don't know what I'm implying! I'm just doing my best to find out." "Okay ma'am. Shall we continue? Are you in the back garden...?" "Don't you understand? I'm locked out! I can't get in the house." "Can't go in? Holy reasons! Ma'am, you just have to knock or ring the doorbell, and you're sure you can go in?" "That would wake the servants, and I don't want that. I don't want to wake Yvette..." "The man who seems to have just woken up and locked the lady out for what reason? I'm sorry," Mr. Glenn added, with hollow sympathy. "You don't want to upset yourself. I didn't intend to play tricks on the lady." Or deceit. I just want to...how to put it?...to find the truth, as the lady said." "That's all I know." "all?" "I remember having a key to the front door in my pajamas pocket. I slipped to the front door and entered the house. At this point I lost my belt; I don't even remember where I lost it until I was cleaning it. a little." "what!" "I guess you've found it too, haven't you?" "Yes, ma'am. Excuse me for asking a question of detail; but what you tell cannot be explained. I mean, fragments of agate tangled in the lace of a lady's nightgown." Eva said softly, "I don't know anything about the fragments. Please just trust me." She covered her eyes with her hands, then let them go again.Her tone was full of sincerity from the heart. "This is the first time I've heard about the pieces! I could almost swear the belt was gone by the time I got back to the house. Because, as I said, I took my pajamas off and washed them. I Can only speculate that someone put it in after that." "Let's stop here," Mr. Glenn signaled for the end of the inquiry.The tone of saying this is declarative, not inquiry. Eva laughed.She looked at the faces in front of her in disbelief. "But you sure don't think I'm a murderer?" "Honestly, ma'am, this wonderful idea has been suggested." "But I can...don't you understand? I can prove every word I say!" "But ma'am?" the police chief tapped the chair beside him with his manicured fingers. Eva turned to the others. "I'm sorry. I didn't tell you this before because I didn't want you to know that Ned was in my room." "Quite understandable," said Janice in a dead tone. "But this," Eva spread her hands, "is utterly ridiculous! I can't even think of how to deal with it. It's like being woken up in the middle of the night and accused of killing someone I've never heard of. If you don't know I can prove what I said, I should be scared to death." "I must make the lady miserable, I repeat the question," said Mr. Glenn, "How do you prove what you say?" "Ned Atwood can attest, of course!" "Ah," said the chief of police. His actions were clearly deliberate.He lifted the lapel of his suit, sniffed at the white rose stuck in the buttonhole, and stopped at the midpoint of the floor.He made a slight gesture, but, except for the frown, the rest of his face seemed very inconsistent with his inner feelings. "Tell me, ma'am. I believe it took you a week to come up with this story?" "I'm not making up a story! This is the first time I've heard that stuff. I tell you it's all true!" Mr. Glenn raised his eyelids. "Perhaps you saw Mr. Atwood this week, ma'am?" "No, of course not!" "Do you still love him, Eva?" Ganice whispered. "Do you still love him?" "No, dear, of course not," Irene interrupted her calmly. "Thank you very much," Eva said.She looks at Toby. "Do I have to tell you this? I loathe and hate him. I've never loathed a man so much in my life. I never want to look at him again." "I don't think it'll be possible, ma'am, to see him again," said Mr. Glenn softly." Everyone turned around quickly.Mr. Glenn stared straight at the floor, then looked up again. "Madam must know that Mr. Atwood is no longer able to verify what Madam said, even if he wants to." Mr. Glenn's voice suddenly became sharp, "Madam must know that Mr. Atwood is lying in the Dongyong Hotel. In bed, still recovering from concussion?" It took about ten seconds for Eva to react and stand up from the deep chair.She stared at the chief of police.That's when Dermot noticed for the first time that she was wearing a gray silk dress and black skirt, an outfit that contrasted with her pink complexion and large gray eyes.Dermot, who thought he had every nerve and every thought in her hands, suddenly felt a new emotion. Up until now, he guessed, the accusations had been nothing more than a bad, ironic joke to her.But now, suddenly, she knew differently.She saw what the whole thing might point to.It can't be that, but it is.From the dry gesture of the chief of police, from the calm words, she was aware of the danger at hand, the danger of death. "Concussion..." she began. Mr. Glenn nodded. "A week ago, at one-thirty in the morning," he continued, "Mr. Atwood walked into the lobby of the Toyong Hotel and passed out in the elevator going to his room." Eva puts her hands to her temples. "But he had just left me then! It was very dark. I couldn't see. He must have bumped his head, when he..." After a short pause, she went on: "Poor Ned!" Toby Laws slammed his fist hard on the mantelpiece. A sardonic smile crept across Mr. Glenn's polite face. "Unfortunately," he continued, "Mr Atwood explained what happened during the time he remained conscious. He said he was hit by a car in the street and hit his head on a curb. That was before he passed out. last word." Then Mr. Glenn stretched out a finger and stroked the air, as if to make a subtle point. "You understand that Mr. Atwood may not be able to give any evidence. The doctors don't think he will recover."