Chapter 10 chapter Ten

Mr. Glenn looked hesitant. "Perhaps I shouldn't have told you that," he said. "I did it a little too lightly. We're not usually as forthright with suspects until they've been apprehended..." "Arrest?" Eva stammered. "Ma'am, I must warn you to be prepared for this." The emotion reached its peak, and no one else could force themselves to speak French anymore. "They can't do that," Irene gasped, tears welling in her eyes, her lower lip protruding. "They can't arrest you without knowing the British side. Poor Morris is a good friend of the Ambassador. Likewise, Eva—"

"It does take a little explaining," cried Ganice, bewildered, "that fragment of the snuff bottle, I mean. And, why don't you ask for help, if you really mind this Mr. Atwood. If it were me I would do it." Toby tapped sullenly on the fender. "To my shock," he grumbled under his breath, "that guy was actually in the room when I called." Uncle Ben didn't say anything, he was usually a man of few words.Uncle Ben was the kind of guy who did work with only his hands, like fixing cars, whittling toy boats, or painting walls.He was sitting by the coffee table, smoking a pipe.Occasionally he would give Eva an encouraging smile, but his gentle eyes still looked a bit sad, and his hands were still shaking.

"As regards," continued Mr. Glenn in English, "the question of Ms. Neir's freedom of movement following her arrest . . . " "Wait a minute," Dermot said. When he spoke, everyone froze. He was sitting in a dark corner by the piano, out of sight, or at least unnoticed.Eva's eyes were on him now.For a moment, he felt a burst of panic and shyness, a feeling he only had in those days when he was so shameless.It was a period of hell, and since then he has understood that mental torture is the cruelest torture on this earth, so he chose today's profession.

Mr. Glenn was taken aback. "Oh, my God!" There was a certain drama in the prefect's voice. "I almost forgot. My friend, I sincerely apologize if I was not very polite to you. It's just this excited moment..." At this moment, the prefect of the jurisdiction waved his hand. "Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Kinross from England. I've mentioned them all to you. Mrs. Laws. Brother, daughter, son, and Ms. Neil. How are you? Very well , I believe? Hmm." Toby Laws froze. "Are you English?" he asked. "Yes," said Dermot, smiling, "I'm English. I hope that doesn't bother you."

"I thought you were from Glenn," Toby said, obviously complaining. "Damn, we were just talking." He scanned the crowd. "I mean, free talk!" "Oh, what does that matter?" said Janice. "I'm sorry," Dermot said apologetically, "I only stepped into your conversation because—" "I had him," explained Mr. Glenn. "Privately he was a doctor in Wimbledon Street. Publicly speaking, he had successfully solved three major crimes as far as I knew him." Incidents. Once because a coat was buttoned wrong, and another time when he noticed the way someone talked. See, it's a psychological thing. So I called her here—"

Dermot looked directly at Eva. "Because my friend, Mr. Glenn," said he, "has doubts about the evidence against Ms. Neir." "My friend!" exclaimed the prefect in a tone that was angry, even reproachful. "Isn't that so?" "It's not necessary," replied Mr. Glenn, in a tone full of malice. "Not anymore." "But the real reason I'm here, hoping to help, is because I used to know your husband well..." Dermot looked at Elena. "You know Maurice?" Irene called out immediately. "Yes. A long time ago, when I was working in prisons. He was very interested in prison reform."

Elena shook her head.Though perplexed by the unexpected visit, she managed to get up from her chair and welcome him.But the tension from last week was palpable on his face.And, as always, when Maurice's name was mentioned, tears came to her eyes again. "Morris," she said, "wasn't just 'interested.' Because, you know, he's helping them with nothing in return." Her tone became brash. "My God, what am I talking about? It's no good thinking about it, is it?" "Dr. Kinross," said Ganice in a small, clear voice. "Ok?" "Are you serious about arresting Eva?"

"I hope not," Dermot said quietly. "You hope not? Why?" "Because if it were I'd have to fight all the way from here to Llandudno with my old friend Mr Glenn." "What do you think after listening to Eva's statement? Don't worry about our thoughts, do you believe her words?" "I believe." Mr. Glenn's face showed a look of anger which was held back only for reasons of politeness, but he said nothing.Dermot's silence seemed to catch everyone, as if it loosened everyone's nerves and made them feel a little lighter.

"It's not so normal for us to hear those words," Toby said, "It's not so normal for all of us." "Of course. But it has happened," Dermot said, "and isn't it just as embarrassing for Ms. Nell?" "Get a stranger here," said Toby, "anyway, damn it!" "Sorry, I'm leaving." Toby seemed to be struggling. "I didn't mean to let you go," he growled under his breath.His joyful face was contorted with disbelief and discontent. "It's all so sudden. It's not the kind of news you're supposed to get when you come home from work. But you know that kind of stuff, don't you? Come to think of it, I know someone who met you once. So you think...is...?"

Dermot carefully resisted the urge to see Eva. She needs help.She stood by the chair, clasped her hands, and tried to meet Toby's gaze, looking terrified and disturbed.It didn't take a psychologist to say that she desperately needed his reassurance, but she couldn't get it.A vague rage seized Dermot Kinross when he realized this. "You want me to be straight?" he asked. Perhaps in Toby's mind, he didn't want to; but his actions gave an affirmative answer. "Well," Dermot smiled, "I think you should make up your mind." "I make a decision?"

"Yes. Is Ms. Neil guilty of infidelity, or of murder? It can't be both, you understand." Toby opened his mouth, then closed it again. And Dermot, with the same poise and patience, moved his eyes from one person to another. "That's what you're ignoring. On the one hand, you say you can't bear to call her while Atwood is there; on the other hand, you're clamoring for her to explain why pieces of the snuffbox are sticking to her nightgown. .It is quite difficult for Ms. Neil, especially you, her friend, to blame her with this two-pronged approach. "You have to make a decision, Mr. Laws. If she had murdered your father in this house - and of course I see no motive for doing so - Atwood couldn't have been in her bedroom. In that case , the question of so-called infidelity shouldn't frighten you. And if Atwood is indeed in her bedroom, then of course she can't come here and murder your father." He paused, "Which one would you choose?" ,gentlemen?" His well-polished, ironic manners hit Toby like a slap in the face.This brought everyone back to some sanity. "Doctor," said Mr. Glenn in a loud and firm voice, "may I speak to you privately?" "my pleasure." "I don't mind, ma'am," Glenn said with a wave to Irene, and then in a louder voice, "may I go down to the hall with Dr. Kinross for a while, please?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Dermot by the arm and dragged him across the room like a school teacher.Mr. Glenn opened the hall door, and with Dermot following him, he bowed briefly to the crowd and walked out of the room. The hall is almost completely dark.Mr. Glenn felt for the light switch, which illuminated a vaulted gray-tiled hallway with a stone staircase covered in red carpet.Panting heavily, the prefect tapped his hat on the rack after he hung it up.He had struggled to understand the English conversation; now, after making sure the doors were shut, he barked at Dermot in French. "My friend, you have disappointed me." "very sorry." "And, you betrayed me. I brought you here to help me, but, God, what have you done? Can you tell me why you have the attitude?" "That woman is innocent." Mr. Glenn walked briskly up and down the hall several times.Suddenly he stopped and gave Dermot the Gaul an incredulous glance. "This idea," he asked politely, "is it from your head or your heart?" Dermot didn't answer. "Please!" said Mr. Glenn. "I thought, as a man of science, I thought it was in your nature, that you were at least immune to Ms. Nair's charms. This woman is a public menace!" "let me tell you--" The other one answered him with pity. "Dear doctor, I'm not a detective. No, no, no! But when it comes to flirty women, it's different. I can detect any flirty woman in the dark three hundred kilometers away." Dermot looked into his eyes. "I swear on my honor," he retorted with conviction, "I don't believe she's guilty." "And what about her lies?" "Is there anything wrong with her words?" "My dear doctor, you ask me?" "Yes! That Atwood fell down the stairs and broke his head. Ms. Neil's description is very typical, I assure you as a medical person. Nose bleeding, but no trauma, it is a concussion The most definite symptoms. Atwood got up, thought he was not seriously injured; so he walked back to the hotel; and there he passed out. This is also very typical." At the word "typical," Mr. Glenn seemed to think for a moment, but didn't think much further. "After hearing Mr. Atwood's own testimony, you still say that...?" "Why not? He knows he's in a bad situation. He knows he can't have anything to do with Ms. Nair or the Angel Road lover. How does he know she's going to be involved in a murder? Who Can that be expected, God? That's why he made up a story about getting run over by a motorcycle." Mr. Glenn made a face. "Of course," continued Dermot, "you have compared the blood samples from Sir Maurice Lawes with the lady's nightgown, have you?" "That's natural. And the two blood samples, I tell you, belong to the same blood type." "Which type?" "Type O." Dermot raised his eyebrows: "This doesn't explain much, does it? This is the most common blood type, and 41% of Europeans have this blood type. Have you tested Atwood's blood type?" blood type?" "Of course not! Why did we test his blood type? This is the first time I've heard that lady's statement!" "Then test it. If it's not the same type, her statement will be self-defeating." "what!" "But, in other words, if he's also an O, it's at least a passive confirmation of Ms. Neir's testimony. Anyway, you don't think it's fair to throw her At least do an experiment before going to jail or even torture to extract a confession?" Mr. Glenn paced the hall a few more times. "Personally," he said aloud, "I'm inclined to think that Ms. Neil, having heard of Mr. Atwood's serious injury by the motorbike, deliberately used that fact to fit her story. And certainly— Pay attention!—the same blindness of love, and whatever she says, Mr Atwood will agree with when he wakes up." Dermot had to admit in his heart that this was very possible.He should be able to swear that he is right, but what if he is wrong?The disturbing effect of Eva Nair herself remained; he could imagine her presence. But with his judgment and intuition, he's pretty sure—whether by human logic or the evidence of logic to the contrary—that he's not wrong.And, unless he fought back with all his conviction and skill, they were going to have this woman locked up for murder. "Motive?" he asked. "Have you found any possible motive?" "To hell with motives!" "Come on, it won't do you any good! Why on earth did she kill Sir Maurice Lawes?" "I told you this afternoon," replied Mr. Glenn, "that it was only theoretical, yes, but it fit. On the afternoon before he was killed, Sir Laws heard some Gossip about—” "What did he hear?" "In the name of a green cabbage, how would I know?" "Then why do you assume that?" "Doctor, be quiet and listen to me! According to their description, the old man came home in a very abnormal condition. He told Mr. Horativo, this Toby. Both were very emotional. One o'clock in the morning, Mr. Horativo Called Ms. Neil and told her what they knew. So Ms. Neir came running, also very excited, to see Sir Lawes and argue with him...” "Ah! So," interjected Dermot, "you want to do both?" Mr. Glenn winked at him. "what?" "You should note," Dermot went on, "that was impossible. There was no argument, no violent words, not even a face-to-face. According to your own theory, the murderer touched a half The back of the deaf old man, who knocked him down suddenly without warning while he was still concentrating on his beloved snuff bottle. Right?" Mr. Glenn paused. "In effect—" he began. "Okay! You said Ms. Nell did this. Why did she do it? Because Sir Laws knew something about her, and Toby Laws knew something about her, because Toby just talked to her on the phone. Did she say that?" "In a way, yes..." "Think about it. If I called you in the middle of the night and said, 'Mr. Glenn, the magistrate has just told me you're a German spy and you're going to be shot.' Would you immediately run and kill the magistrate so that you To prevent the news from leaking out to me? Similarly, if any rumors about Ms. Nair's character emerged, would she sneak across the street and kill her fiancé's father without even asking for an explanation? " "Women," said Mr. Glenn gravely, "are unpredictable." "But it's not that unpredictable, is it?" This time Mr. Glenn paced slowly, as if taking measurements of the hall.He lowered his head, but his anger was uncontrollable.Several times he tried to say something, but stopped, and finally he stretched out his hands exaggeratedly. "My friend," he cried, "you want to lead me against my evidence!" "But people always have questions, right?" "People," admitted the Prefect, "sometimes have doubts." "Are you still going to arrest her?" Mr. Glenn was startled. "Naturally! There is no doubt about it, and the magistrate asked for it. Of course," a mischievous gleam in his eye, "unless my good friend the doctor can prove it in the next few hours. Her innocence. Tell me, do you have any thoughts now?" "I have some ideas." "What is it?" Dermot looked him straight in the eye again. "It's almost certain to me," he replied, "that the murderers are hiding out in this 'pleasant' family, the Lawes family."