Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

In the cool weather of September, the sunrise on the coast stretches the horizon into a red line like a crayon drawing, and then sprinkles colorful colors into the water, like knocking over a paint box.Then the sun came up, and little spots of light gleamed on the waves of the channel, driven after them by the blowing wind. To their right was the English Channel, to their left the low dunes.An asphalt road meanders with the twists and turns of the coast, itself shining like a river.An open carriage rattled past on the road, the patient coachman sat on the driver's seat, and two passengers sat behind him, the creaking and clanging of the harness, and the clattering of the horse's hooves seemed to be crisp and scratched The emptiness and drowsy silence of the morning.

The breeze from the channel blows Eva's hair in all directions, creating ripples in her black fur coat.Despite the sunken eyes, she smiled. "Did you notice," she cried, "that you kept me talking all night?" "That's good," Dermot said. The coachman in the top hat neither turned nor spoke, but his shoulders were raised almost to his ears. "Where are we now?" said Eva. "It must be five or six miles from La Bondelet!" Again the coachman shouldered his assent. "That's all right," Dermot reassured. "Now, tell your story."

"Ok?" "I want you to tell me that again. Word for word." "Tell me again?" This time, the coachman's shoulders were higher than his ears, and this kind of jujitsu seemed to be reserved for members of his profession.He cracked his whip, and the carriage galloped off, jolting its occupants as they tried to see each other. "Please," Eva said, "I've told you four times. I swear, um, I haven't missed a single detail of what happened that night.... I'm so hoarse, it must have looked like Ridiculous." She ran her hands through her hair.The gray eyes were wet from the wind, shining brightly, looking at him pleadingly. "Can't we just wait until at least breakfast?"

Dermot was delighted. He leaned against the faded upholstery, stretching his shoulders.He was somewhat disorientated from lack of sleep, and from a discovery that turned him to something he hadn't noticed before.He forgot that he looked unseemly and needed a shave.A strong sense of joy welled up in his heart: he felt that he could lift the whole world, hold it firmly, and throw it downstairs. "Well, maybe we can clear you up," he admitted. "At any rate, I think I've got the crucial details. You see, Ms. Neil, you told me something very important." "What's up?"

"You told me who the killer was," Dermot said. The old car started to run away.Eva leaned out and steadied herself against the folds of the carpet. "But I don't have a clue!" she said dissatisfied. "I know. That's why your account is so valuable. If you knew what happened..." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and hesitated. "I had an idea, just a little idea," he went on, "I might have been thinking in the wrong direction yesterday, and I didn't fully understand it until you told your story over an omelet at Papa Red's last night." Wake up."

"Dr. Kinross," said Eva, "who of them did it?" "Does it matter to you? Does it make a difference who did it," he pointed to his chest. "Here?" "No difference. But—who of them did it?" Dermot stared into her eyes: "I, on purpose, didn't tell you." Eva decided she had had enough.But when she opened her mouth angrily and was about to protest, she saw Dermot's determined, friendly, inspiring expression: the power of sympathy was almost motivating. "Listen," he went on, "I'm not saying this to try to scare the morons of the last chapter, like a great detective. Good reason. The secret of the matter," he touched her forehead with his hand, "is here. In your head."

"But I still don't understand!" "You know it, you just don't realize you know it. If I told you, you'd look back. You'd add explanations. You'd reconstruct the facts. But you mustn't. At least not now. All Facts—did you hear? All the facts depend on you telling that story verbatim to Glenn and the examining magistrate, just as you told it to me." Eva moved uneasily. . "Let me show you," Dermot suggested, studying her.He fumbled in his vest pocket for a while, and took out his pocket watch, "For example, what is this?" "What did you say?"

"What am I holding in my hand?" "A pocket watch, Mr. Magician." "How do you know? It's so windy, you can't hear the tick." "But, my dear friend, I can see that it is a pocket watch!" "Indeed, that's what I meant. We also noticed from the pocket watch," he added, more quietly, "that it's five-twenty, and you must be very much in need of sleep, coachman!" "What is it, sir?" "Better go back to town." "All right, sir!" You might think the patient coachman has been hit by magic.As if a newsreel speeds up the film to achieve a certain effect, he speeds up the carriage, and the whole street is suddenly charged with electricity.They rattled back along the same road, white gulls crowing harshly on the blue-gray water of the strait.At this moment, Eva spoke again: "What about now?"

"Sleep. Next, trust your obedient servant. You have to see Glenn today, and the examining magistrate." "Oh, I think so." "This M. Vaudour, the examining magistrate, is known for his sternness. But don't be afraid of him. If he insists on his rights, which he will, they may not allow me to be present when you are questioned..." "Won't you be there?" Eva called. "You see, I'm not a lawyer. By the way, you'd better have a lawyer. I'll send Solomon to you." He paused. "I'm there, or I'm not there," he added, staring at the coachman's back, "is there a big difference?"

"Big difference. I haven't thanked you yet because..." "Oh, that's all right. As I said, tell your story in detail, remember, as you told me. Once that story is officially on the record, I can act. " "Then what are you going to do then?" Dermot was silent for a long time. "There's someone who can prove the murderer," he replied, "Ned Atwood. But he's of no use to us now, though I'm staying at the Dongyong Hotel too, and maybe I might stop by his doctor. No," he paused again, "I'm going to London." Eva was taken aback: "Going to London?"

"Just one day. A ten-thirty flight from here, and then from Croydon late in the evening, and I'll be back before dinner. If my plan of action works, then I should have definite news by then." "Dr. Kinross, why do you go to such trouble for me?" "Oh, we can't watch our own people being pushed into the water. Can we?" "Don't be kidding me!" "Am I kidding? Sorry." He smiled quickly, it was no joke.Eva studied his face.Under the dazzling sunlight, Dermot suddenly realized something.He put his hand to his cheek, as if to hide it all, and the old fear came back to sting him.Eva didn't notice.She was exhausted now, shivering in her short fur coat, and the events of last night were still in her mind. "I must be sick of you," she said, "talking about my love life." "Nothing." "I just confessed everything to a complete stranger, and now it's daylight again, and I'm almost ashamed to look at your face." "Why? That's why I'm here. But can I ask a question, for the first time?" "Of course." "What are you going to do with Toby Laws?" "What would happen to you if you were rejected so politely and formally? I was completely rejected, wasn't I? And there was a witness." "Do you think you still love him? I'm not asking if you love him. I'm just asking if you think you still love him." Eva didn't answer.The hooves of the horse continued to make a clear sound on the hard road.After a while, Eva laughed. "I don't have much luck with my man, do I?" She stopped talking, and Dermot didn't ask any more questions.Towards six o'clock their carriage jolted back down the white streets that La Bondelet had swept.Except for a few sailors who rode out early in the morning, there was no movement in the street.When the carriage drove into Angel Road, Eva bit her lower lip, her face turned pale.Dermot supported her and got out of the carriage in front of her own villa. Eva glanced quickly across the street at Villa Bliss.The villa looked empty and lifeless, with the exception of one window in an upstairs bedroom.The shutters on this window were folded, and Elena Rouse, in her baggy oriental pajamas, her spectacles on her nose, stood motionless, watching them. The street was quiet, their voices sounded very loud, Eva lowered her voice instinctively: "Look...look behind you. Have you noticed the windows upstairs?" "yes." "Should I pay attention?" "don't want." Eva's expression became desperate: "You can't tell me who...?" "No. I will tell you only one thing. You have been handpicked to be the victim of a dastardly conspiracy, the most discreet, cruel, and cold-blooded conspiracy I have ever encountered. Those who plot this cannot be forgiven , and doomed to nothing. I'm going to see you tonight. Then, God forbid, we're going to blow somebody up." "I gotta say," Eva said, "thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She shook his hand firmly, opened the gate, and ran down the path to the front door, the coachman heaving a weary sigh of relief, and Dermot staring at her house for a long time from the pavement (which made the coachman There are new worries), and then returned to the carriage: "Dongyong Hotel, my friend. Then it's none of your business." When he arrived at the restaurant, he paid the fare and gave a generous tip. When he walked up the steps, there was still a series of thanks behind him.Dongyong Hotel, which reproduces the lobby of a medieval castle, has just started a busy day. Dermot went into his room.He took out of his pocket the diamond and turquoise necklace he had borrowed from Mr. Glenn, and put it in a registered post to be returned to the Chief of Police with a note that he had to leave today. one time.Then he shaved, took a cold shower, cleared his head, and while he was getting dressed, ordered breakfast. The hotel receptionist told him over the phone that Mr. Atwood's room number was 401.Dermot went looking for the room after breakfast, and was lucky enough to come across the hotel doctor, who had just left Ned's bedside on his morning round. Dr. Buddy glanced at Dermot's business card, impressed, but still a little impatient.Standing in the dimly lit hallway outside his bedroom, he said in a strong tone: "No, sir, Mr. Atwood is not sober yet. The police station comes twenty times a day, asking the same question." "Naturally, it is impossible to predict whether he will wake up. On the other hand, he may wake up at any time?" "From the nature of the injury, it's possible. I'll show you the X-rays." "Thank you very much. Do you think he has a chance of sober?" "In my opinion, yes." "Did he say something? In his delirium, perhaps?" "He laughs sometimes, but that's all. I don't spend a lot of time with him anyway. It's worth asking the nurse." "Can I see him?" "of course can!" From this dark room overlooked the flower-filled garden behind the hotel.The man who knew the secret lay like a corpse.The nurse was a nun of some order, her hooded silhouette silhouetted against the dim white shutters. Dermot eyed the patient.A handsome fellow, he thought bitterly.Eva Nair's first love, and maybe...he didn't think about it any more.If Eva still loved this guy, even subconsciously, there was nothing he could do.He took Ned's pulse, and the ticking of his pocket watch brought life to the quiet room.Dr. Budai showed him the X-ray pictures and said happily that it was a miracle that the patient lived so long. "What did he say, sir?" the nurse repeated in answer to Dermot's question. "Yes, he murmurs sometimes." "yes?" "But he speaks English. I don't understand English. Also, he laughs a lot and calls out a name." Dermot had already turned and walked towards the door, then turned around quickly: "What name?" "Shhhhh!" Dr. Buday reminded. "I can't tell, sir. All the syllables sound alike. No, sir, I'm sorry I can't imitate you." The nurse's eyes were eager in the darkness. "If you insist, next time he speaks, I'll try to write down the pronunciation." No: there is nothing more here.Dermot has done what he has to do.He had a couple of inquiries to make in some of the hotel bars, and one of the waiters spoke enthusiastically of little Miss Janice Laws.As for Sir Morris himself, it is suggested that, on the very afternoon before his death, he had been in the rowdy back bar for a while: much to the surprise of the barman and waiter. "How fierce his eyes look!" muttered the barman. "Later Julius Seznak saw him walking in the zoo, by the monkey cage, talking to someone, but Julian didn't see who it was, because the man was hiding behind a bush." He just had time to call his lawyer friend, Attorney Solomon at Solomon & Cohen.Then Dermot booked a seat on Imperial Airlines, which left Labondelete at half past ten. He remembered afterwards that the rest of the day was a nightmare.He took a nap on the plane to recharge for the biggest moment of the trip.The drive from Croydon seemed to never end, and London, after a few days' rest, seemed to be filled with the choking smell of soot and petrol.Dermot took a taxi to a certain address.Half an hour later, it was time for him to cheer for victory. He confirmed what he wanted to prove.Under a yellow evening sky, he boarded the plane back to La Bondelet, exhausted.Engines roared, and the wind bent the grass so hard as the plane skidded through a pile of low-pressure tires.Eva is safe.Dermot put his suitcase on his lap and leaned against his seat, the air vents humming in the stuffy cabin.He watched England shrink from red and gray roofs to a moving map. Eva is safe.Dermot's plan worked.When the plane landed at the airport, he was still planning.In the direction of the town, several lights were shining.Driving through tree-lined avenues, inhaling the crisp pine scent of dusk, Dermot freed his mind from the present to imagine a future... An orchestra is playing at the Dongyong Hotel.The light and noise in the hall stimulated his nerves.A clerk stopped him as he walked past the reception. "Dr. Kinross! You've been seeing people all day. Wait! I believe there are two more waiting to see you." "Who are they?" "One is Mr. Solomon," replied the clerk, consulting the notebook, "and the other is Miss Laws." "Where are they?" "Somewhere in the hall, sir." The clerk rang the bell. "I'll have someone take you to them. Will you?" Accompanied by the waiter, Dermot came to the so-called "Gothic" foyer, and found Janice Laws and lawyer Pierre Solomon in one of the alcoves.The stone walls of the alcove are fake, as are the hanging medieval weapons.Along the wall is a ring sofa with a small table in the middle.Janice and Lawyer Solomon sat apart, as if they were each brooding over their own worries.But as soon as Dermot approached, they all stood up, and he was shocked by the reproachful expressions on their faces. Lawyer Solomon was a big fat man with an imposing manner, a blue face and a deep voice.He looked at Dermot curiously. "So you're back, my friend," he said in that deep voice. "Of course! I told you to wait for me. Where's Ms. Nell?" The lawyer turned over the nails on one hand, then looked up. "She's at City Hall, my friend." "At City Hall? Still there? They'll keep her there a long time, won't they?" Lawyer Solomon's expression became grim. "She's in a cell," he answered, "and I'm very afraid, old friend, that she'll be in for a long time. Ms. Nair has been charged with murder and has been arrested."

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