Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Sunglasses

Elliott lied, and for some reason he spoke in such a sharp tone that the chief of police gave him a glare. "No, Miss Wells," he said. "Would you please sit down?" She looked at him with puzzled eyes.He actually remembered that the images in his memory were vividly presented.He had never met anyone who impressed him so much.He seemed to know what she would do, how her head would turn, how she would raise her hand to her forehead. "You're so nervous, Marjorie," said Dr. Jo, patted her hand. "This gentleman is an Inspector from Scotland Yard. He—"

"Scotland Police Yard," said the girl, "isn't a good place, is it?" She laughed, then stopped laughing, and there was no smile in her eyes. Elliott had forgotten nothing: the smooth dark brown hair parted behind the ears and in small curls at the neck, the broad forehead, the arched eyebrows, the brooding gray eyes, the mouth that always seemed to rest.He finds her not beautiful, but he doesn't care. "Sorry," she woke up from the confused eyes, "I'm afraid I didn't hear clearly, what did you say?" "Sit down, Miss Wells? We would like to hear your opinion of your uncle's death, if you may."

She glanced quickly into the dark room behind the double doors.After staring at the floor for a moment and clenching her fist once or twice, she calmly threw her head back.But this sense of humor and cleverness, he thought, might not help her resist four months of verbal assault. "That light bulb can't burn out, can it?" She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. "Are you here to arrest me?" "no." "So—well, what do you want to ask me?" "Tell me what you know, Miss Wells. Dr. Chesney, are you going to attend to a patient?"

Eliot's composed, cool Scottish decorum has its effect.She looked at him thoughtfully, her breathing becoming less rapid.Accepting the chair he had prepared, she sat down and crossed her legs.She was wearing a plain black evening dress and no jewelry. "Inspector, must we stay here? In this room, I mean?" "yes." "My uncle had a theory," she said, "and whenever he had a theory, he tested it. And here's the result." She told him the theory. "Miss Wells, I understand it all started with a debate at the dinner table?" "That's right."

"Who starts the debate? I mean who introduces the topic?" "Uncle Marcus." The girl replied in surprise. "You don't agree with him?" "Disagree." "Why, Miss Wells? For what reason?" "Oh, does it matter?" Marjorie asked impatiently with her eyes wide open.But she saw the stubbornness of Elliott's jaw; and then, confused and excited, she went on, "Why? I guess it's just something to do. It's been bad since we got home, even with Jocha here. George It's my fiancé, I—I met him on a trip abroad. Uncle Markus is very confident. Besides, I always believe what I tell him."

"about what?" "All men are not observant," Marjorie said quietly, "that's why you men are not good witnesses. You don't pay attention. You are too absorbed in your own affairs, looking inward, always focusing on your own You don't observe at all. Want me to prove it? You always laugh at women for noticing what other women wear, even a belt or a bracelet. Well, you think women don't pay attention to what men wear? No Can you describe what a man wears? It's not a matter of looking at other women, it's a matter of observation. But have you ever noticed what another man wears? Like another man? No! As long as his suit or his tie isn't ugly, you No more attention. Have you ever paid attention to details? His shoes, or his hands?"

She stopped talking and looked back at the double doors. "I'm telling you this because I swear to Uncle Marcus that no intelligent woman would ever be wrong about what she sees. Unless he can prove that I can't. I won't be." Marjorie said solemnly Leaning forward, "You know," she went on, "someone came in—" "Wait a minute, Miss Wells. Who else disagrees with your uncle?" "Uncle Joe disagrees, and Professor Ingram strongly disagrees, you know, he's a professor of psychology. He says it's generally true, but he can't be wrong. He says he's a trained observer He knows all the pitfalls. He bet Uncle Marcus fifty pounds on it."

She glanced back at Dr. Joe's chair, but Dr. Joe was gone.Inspector Postrek was back in the room, and Major Crowe leaned forward on the grand piano with his arms folded. "How's your—fiancé?" "George? Oh, he didn't agree either. But he insisted on filming the whole thing with a little movie camera to make it clear." Elliot stands up— "You mean you filmed what happened here?" "Yes, of course. That's why there are photographic light bulbs." "I see," said Elliott, relieved. "So, who is the audience for this show?"

"Professor Ingram, George, and I. Uncle Joe has some outpatients to attend to." "And what about the man with the blown head? This Mr. Emmett? Isn't he also an audience?" "No, no. He's Uncle Marcus's assistant, don't you understand? He's another actor in the show. Here's how it happened, though we didn't realize it until after the fact," she explained. "After dinner, Uncle Marcus was with Wilbur Emmett, deciding what show they were going to put on, a lot like play, gesticulating: a game. The stage would be Uncle Marcus's study over there, and we'd sit Look here. Wilbur is going to come in with a weird outfit, the weirder the better, and we'll have to describe the clothes afterwards. He's going to have a dialogue with Uncle Marcus, and we've got to describe that conversation correctly too. Uncle Marcus A series of questions were prepared for us. Well, Uncle Marcus called us here about twelve o'clock at night, and gave us instructions—"

Eliot interrupted: "Wait a minute, please. You said 'nearly twelve o'clock at night.' Doesn't the show start rather late?" What he took to be chagrin crept up her face— "Yes, quite late. Professor Ingram was quite upset about it, because he wanted to go home. You see, dinner was over at nine-fifteen. George and I were sitting in the library playing cards and wondering what was going to happen." anything. But Uncle Marcus insisted." "Did he explain it?" "He said he wanted to see if Uncle Joe could come home for the show. But when Uncle Joe wasn't home at eleven forty-five, he decided to start the show."

"One more thing, Miss Wells. Didn't you know at this time that Mr. Emmett was going to be here—I mean, he was going to be an actor in the show?" "Oh, no idea! We didn't see Wilbur at all after supper. All we know is that Uncle Marcus is locked behind the doors of the two rooms getting ready." "Please continue." "Well, Uncle Marcus called us here," she went on, "and gave us instructions. The curtains on the French windows are drawn," she pointed to the French windows, "and the double doors are closed so that we cannot look into the study." Look. He's standing here, and we're giving a speech." "Do you remember exactly what he said?" she nods— "Remember. He said, 'First of all, you're going to be sitting in the dark during the show.' George objected, and asked how he could film in the dark. Uncle Marcus explained that he had borrowed my camera light bulb, and that It was the light bulb I bought for him that morning and installed it in the study so that its light would shine directly on the theatre." At this moment, Elliott felt a hesitant breath, obviously like a girl's perfume. "But I think there's something wrong with it," she went on. "why?" "Uncle Marcus's look doesn't seem right to me," she said aloud. "I lived with Uncle Marcus a long time—and what he said didn't seem right to me. He said, 'Secondly, whatever you see Nothing, don't interrupt. Understand?' Finally, just before he entered the study, he said, 'Be careful, there may be a trap.' Then he went into the study and closed the double doors. I turned off the light , and the show starts within seconds. "When Uncle Marcus opened the double doors, the show started. I was excited, nervous; I didn't know why. "He was alone. I could see almost the whole study. After he opened the door, he walked back slowly and sat down behind the table in the middle, facing us. The brass lamp slightly to the right in front of the table was used for the photo. The lightbulb lit everything. There was blinding white light and his big shadow on the wall behind him. You could see the white face of the clock on the mantelpiece behind him, and the bright pendulum swinging back and forth—it was twelve o'clock at night bell. "Uncle Marcus sat there facing us. There was a box of chocolates on the table, and a pencil and a pen. He picked up first the pencil, then the pen, and pretended to write with the pen. Then he looked around. The study One of the French windows opened and the strangely dressed figure in a top hat and sunglasses jumped from the grass." Marjorie paused, cleared her throat, and then she continued: "Not counting the fur-brimmed top hat, the man was about six feet tall. He wore a long, dirty raincoat with the collar turned up. He had brown stuff wrapped around his face, and dark glasses. He wore shiny gloves. , and carrying a black bag. Of course we don't know who he is, but I don't like the way he looks. He looks more like a bug than a person. Tall and thin, and he wears big sunglasses. George, who is shooting the video, shouts out , 'Ah, the invisible man!' - he turned and looked at us. "The man put the medical bag on the table with his back to us and went to the other side of the table. Uncle Marcus said something to him. But he never spoke, it was Uncle Marcus who said .There was no sound other than the ticking of the mantel clock and the rattling of the movie cameras. I think what Uncle Marcus was saying was, 'Now you've done what you used to do, what do you want to do?' The man was on the right side of the table at this time. He quickly took out a small cardboard box from the pocket of his raincoat and shook out a fat green capsule like the castor oil capsules we used to eat when we were children. He quickly bent over Turning back, throwing Uncle Marcus's head back and forcing him to swallow the capsule." Marjorie Wells stopped talking.Her voice trembled; she put her hand to her throat and cleared it.Unable to look away from the double doors, she finally turned her chair to face them.Elliott followed her. "Yes?" he urged. "I can't help it," she said, "I probably jumped up or yelped. I shouldn't have done it, because Uncle Marcus warned us not to be surprised by what we saw. Besides, nothing seemed wrong." thing; Uncle Marcus swallowed the capsule, though he didn't seem to like it—he glared at the wrapped face. "As soon as Uncle Marcus swallowed the capsule, the man in the top hat packed his handbag and made a dodgy gesture to go out through the French window. Uncle Marcus sat at the table for a few more seconds, swallowed, Pushed the box of chocolates away. Then without warning, he flopped forward. "No, no!" cried Marjorie, as a commotion broke out in the crowd. "That's just a pretense, that's just part of the show, and that's the end of the show. Because not long after Uncle Marcus fell, he stood up with a smile on his face." , come here, close the double doors - that's the curtain down. "We turned on the lights in this room. Professor Ingram knocked on the double doors and asked Uncle Marcus to come out and take a bow. Uncle Marcus opened the door. He looked—radiant, you know, contented." but rather chagrined. He stuffed a folded piece of paper into the breast pocket of his coat, and tapped it. He said, 'Now, my friend, get pencil and paper, and prepare to answer some questions.' Professor Ingram said, 'By the way, who's that scary-looking companion of yours?' Uncle Marcus said, 'Oh, that's Wilbur; he helped me plan the whole thing.' And he exclaimed,' All right, Wilbur. You may come in now." — but no answer. "Uncle Marcus yelled again, but there was still no answer. Finally he got angry and went to the window. You see, one of the French windows in this room was open because it was a very warm night. The lights in both rooms Both were lit, and we could see the house and the lawn among the trees. All the imp's accessories were lying on the floor, the top hat, the sun-glasses and the bag with the doctor's name on it; but we couldn't see Wilbur. "We found him in the dark on the other side of the tree. He was lying face down, unconscious. Blood was streaming from his mouth and nose into the grass, and the back of his head was wet. The poker that hit him lay beside him. He Been in a coma for a while." Her face contorted involuntarily."You know, the guy with the top hat and the sunglasses is not Wilbur at all," she explained.