Chapter 8 Chapter 8 The Magic Box

Elliott wondered if Professor Ingram got his cigarette, because the explanation for the magic occurred to him. "I'm sorry, I'll be right back," he said.Then, he walked around the piano and went out through the French windows. He closed the thick velvet curtains behind him.The lawn between the house and the yellow chestnut trees was colder and darker, for some electric lights were dimmed and only the ordinary bulbs were on in the study.In the middle of the night, he felt how short and fragile life is.He seemed to hear a faint bell ringing from somewhere, but he ignored it, focusing on Dr. Neno's pile of things lying outside the study window.

That black bag— Now he knew why he felt familiar with the black bag.The black bag looks like a doctor's medicine chest but is larger and smaller than a suitcase. Such a bag is one of the exhibits at the Black Museum of Scotland Yard. He knelt by the bag next to his hat and raincoat.The bag was made of polished leather and looked new. Doctor Nemo's name is crudely printed on the side stencil.Elliot opened the bag with his handkerchief.Inside was a two-pound box of Henry's milk sugar chocolates with bright green flowers. "I see," he said aloud. This bag is called "The Thief's Friend".Elliot picked up the bag and looked at the bottom.The bag was originally used for magic tricks, but its principles have been adopted by gentlemen who rob open displays of valuables in department stores, jewelry stores, and the like.

You bring this plain looking bag into the store, put it casually on the counter, and browse the goods; but you put the bag on top of the thing you want to steal, and the bottom of the bag has a magician's "spring" "clip" device, this device grabs the bottom thing into the bag.Then you pick up the bag and leave the store. Dr. Nemo's route became clear.He enters the study and places the bag on the table, his back to the audience as he does so.Instead of putting the spring clip bag in front of the green box, he put it on top of the green box.Tote bags can handle much heavier items than boxes of chocolates.He kept a box of blue mint chocolates in the deep pocket of his raincoat.When he bent to put down the bag or picked it up, he used his body to block the audience's view, and quickly put another box behind the bag.This is easy to do in front of a dazed audience.All this was done with the help and direction of Marcus Chesney as part of his plan to fool the Witnesses...

But how does that fact help solve the case, or the candy store murders?Does that mean the box of chocolates at Mrs. Terry's has been swapped? "Hey!" a low voice sounded. Elliot jumped to his feet.It was a hoarse, harsh voice, coming from above his head.He looked up and saw the face of Dr. Joe Chesney overlooking him from the second-story window.Dr. Joe was leaning out of the window, and Elliott wondered if the big man was going to fall like a laundry bag. "Are you all deaf?" Dr. Joe said softly. "No one heard the doorbell? Why didn't anyone answer? It rang for five minutes. Damn it, I can't do this. I have patients here to attend to."

Elliott woke up.It must have been the sergeant, the camera and fingerprint officer summoned from twelve miles away. "And—hey!" growled Dr. Joe. "What's up?" "Want Marjorie to come up here, please? He's looking for her." Eliot immediately looked up: "Is he conscious? Can I see him?" A gnarled, hairy fist shook him from the window, and loose sleeves dangled with it.Dr. Qiao's reddish-yellow beard looked like a demon in the light below. "No, my brother, he's not conscious. You can't see him tonight, you can't see him tomorrow, you might not see him for weeks, months, years. Understand? Get Marjorie to come here. These women Bad maid, one of them can't hold things steady, and the other is hiding in bed. Oh, for God's sake!"—the head flinches back.

Elliott slowly picks up Dr. Nemo's belongings.The ringing of distant bells has ceased.When a cold wind blows, it moves through the leaves, and it lifts the ripe aromas of fall from the ground; then, at the insistence of a breeze or a door opening, it brings sweeter, riper flavors.A slight fragrance permeates the room.Then Elliot remembered that there was a half-acre greenhouse nearby.It was the smell of the almond tree, whose fruit ripens between July and November. As he entered the study with Dr. Nemo's belongings, the door to the hallway opened just as Inspector Postrek brought in two newcomers, Dr. West and Sergeant Matthew.Major Crowe followed them.As Matthew listens to instructions about fingerprints and photographs, Dr. West leans over Marcus Chesney's body.

Major Crowe looked at Elliott. "Well, Inspector?" he asked. "Why did you leave so suddenly? What did you find?" "I found out how the box of chocolates has been swapped, sir," Elliott explained. Major Crowe listened carefully—"clean and clean," he admitted, "clean and clean. But even so—listen to me, where did Chesney get a magic bag like that?" "You can buy it at a magic supply shop in London." "You said he bought it specially in London?" "It looks like it, sir." Major Crowe went over to examine the bag: "It means," he mused, "that he's been planning this show for some time. You know, Inspector," he seemed to kick the bag, "the more we investigate , the show is getting more and more complicated and incomprehensible, Where are we? What are we getting? Wait! Any other questions on Chesney's watch?"

"Yes, sir. And three more." "Then go there and ask the question," said the Chief Constable, glancing toward the closed double doors, "but before you go through, I'm going to ask you, did you notice something was amiss?" "Oh, really?" Major Crowe held out his bony wrist and forefinger as if to make a statement: "There's something wrong with that clock." They look at the clock.Dr. West had turned on the camera floodlight to examine the body.The clock's white face, brass trim, and marble white frame stared at them from the mantelpiece again—the time was one forty.

"Well, I've got to go home," said Major Crowe suddenly, "but—look at that clock, Chesney may have changed it, he may have tampered with it before the show. Do you remember? When the show was over, he closed the double doors, and he didn't go into the music room until Ingram knocked and told him to come out for the curtain call. He was able to set the clock back to the right time during that time, right?" Elliot doubted: "I guess he could, sir. If he wanted to." "Of course he can, there's nothing easier." Major Crowe went to the mantelpiece and squeezed behind the dead man's chair.He turned the clock so that its back was facing them. "See those two devices? One is the winding key, the other is the pin that changes the position of the hands—hey!" He watched, looked closer, and Elliott Also join in.Yes, there are small brass keys on the back of the clock.But there was only a small round hole where the pin should be.

"The clock is broken," Elliott said.He looked closer.He could see a bright stump in the hole, the back of the grim metal with fresh scratches around the hole. "It was recently broken," he explained. "That's why Miss Wells says she's sure it's accurate. You see, sir? No one can change the hands unless the clock repairer arrives." Major Crowe stared at the clock: "Nonsense," he said, "it's not going to be easier. Like this!" He turned the clock back face-out, opened the round glass door protecting the face, and held the hands .

"All you have to do," he went on, "is push—" "Don't worry, sir!" said Elliott. Major Crowe let go, knowing he had failed.The metal hands are so delicate that trying to push them will only break them; obviously, the position of the hands cannot be changed by hand.Elliot backed away.He couldn't help laughing.The hands continued to move, the metal spiral that bound the hands winked at him, and the ticking of the clock stirred up such a beautiful melody in his heart that he almost smiled at the police chief.This clock is a symbol.He's looking at a novelist's nightmare!A clock that cannot be played with. "I see," he said. "Not necessarily so," said Major Crowe. "But, sir—" "There's something wrong with this clock," Major Crowe declared solemnly. "I admit I don't know what it is, but I shall soon." At this time, the light bulb for photography suddenly goes out after emitting a strong light.This surprised everyone, and the green-shaded lamp in the corner looked dim by comparison.But Dr. West was on his feet; he was an old man in a pince-nez who looked rather tired. "What do you want me to tell you?" he asked Major Crowe. "Well, what poison killed him?" "It's cyanic acid or some kind of cyanide. I'll do an autopsy in the morning and let you know the results." "Some kind of cyanide? Joe Chesney said it was cyanide." Dr. West explained: "You might think it's potassium cyanide. That's one of the group of hydrogen salts from cyanic acid. But I agree that's the most common." "Let me admit my ignorance," Major Crowe said. "I've studied strychnine in other cases, but I'm not an expert. Well, suppose someone killed Chesney with cyanic acid or cyanide. Where does it come from? How do I get it?" "I took some notes," the doctor said with satisfaction, fumbling leisurely in his pocket, "hydrocyanic acid poisoning is rare, you know, it's rare. I'm dealing with Billy Owens I made some notes at the time of the case, and I might as well tell it." He continued with grace: "It is very difficult for a layman to obtain cyanic acid. On the other hand, good chemists can easily prepare cyanic acid from non-toxic substances. I mean not listed in the list of poisonous substances. Its Salts, potassium cyanide, are used in a wide variety of ways, as you probably know, in photography and sometimes as an insecticide for fruit trees." "Fruit trees!" Major Crowe murmured. "It's also used for electroplating, for killing-bottles—" "What are killing-bottles?" "Entomology," said the doctor, "butterfly-catching. Painless killing-bottles containing potassium pentacyanide per cent can be purchased from taxidermists. Buyers must sign the poison book." Eliot interrupted, "May I ask a question, doctor? There's cyanic acid in the peach pit, isn't it?" "Yes, that's right." Dr. West wiped his forehead. "Can cyanic acid be obtained by pressing and boiling peach pits?" "I've been asked that question," said Dr. West, still rubbing his forehead vigorously, "and the answer is yes. But I estimate that to make a lethal dose from a peach pit would require about five thousand six hundred peach kernels." .It doesn't seem feasible." Chief Inspector Postrick said after hesitating, "The poison comes from somewhere!" "Indeed. This time you'll have to find out where it came from," said the Constable. "We haven't found out about strychnine, but we're sure to find out about cyanide in all the books on poisons in England." Origin. That's your job, Inspector. By the way, Doctor, do you know the big green capsules? The castor oil capsules?" "How about it?" "Assuming you're going to put cyanide in that capsule, how? By a hypodermic?" Dr. West mused: "Yes, that would work. Gels and oils will hold the cyanide tightly unless too much is put in. Capsules will also hide the smell. Nine-tenths of a gel of anhydrous cyanide will Fatal. Potassium cyanide is weaker, but two or three miles of potassium cyanide can kill." "How long does it take to be fatal?" "I don't know how much to take," said Dr. West apologetically. "I think the symptoms are usually produced within ten seconds. In this case, though, the gel had to melt, and the castor oil would hinder the absorption of the poison. I think , it takes about two minutes for the obvious symptoms to appear; for the rest, it depends on the dose. The exhaustion comes quickly, but death may occur within three minutes or half an hour later." "Well, that's consistent with what we know." Major Crowe made an impassioned gesture. "Anyway, Inspector, I suggest you go back to the music room and have another talk with that group." Nodding at the double doors, "See if they're sure what they're seeing is really castor oil capsules, maybe it's a trick again. Find out, find out all the tricks, and we'll know where we're at. " Elliott, delighted at the chance to work alone, entered the music room and closed the door behind him.One or two pairs of eyes were fixed on him. "I won't keep you long tonight," he told them cheerfully, "but if you don't mind answering the rest of the questions—" Professor Ingram stared at him. "Wait a minute," he said. "Can you answer a question first, Inspector? Did you find out that the chocolate box was actually swapped in the way I said?" Elliott hesitated: "Yes, sir, I don't mind telling you it was swapped." "Ah!" Professor Ingram said with satisfaction.As he sat back, Marjorie and George Harding looked at him in bewilderment. "I hope you find out that the box of chocolates has been swapped. That way we're not far from solving the case." Marjorie wanted to speak, but Elliott would not give her the chance. "Here's Mr. Chesney's eighth question, about the man in the top hat. What did he make me swallow? How long did it take me to swallow it? Do you all agree it's a castor oil capsule?" "I can't be wrong," Marjorie replied. "It took him two or three seconds to swallow the capsule." "It did look like a castor oil capsule," said Professor Ingram cautiously. "He swallowed it with difficulty." "I don't know anything about capsules." Harding's face was pale, restless and suspicious, which made Elliott wonder, "I'd say it was a grape, a green grape, and I wonder why he didn't choke. But if you both think it's castor oil capsules, well, I agree." Elliott changed the subject: "We'll talk about that later. Now ask a very important question: How long was he in the room?" He spoke with a serious expression, while the sarcasm on Ingram's face made it clear. It became increasingly apparent that this made Marjorie hesitate. "Is there a trap here?" she asked. "You mean the time between when he enters through the French window and when he walks out? Not very long. Two minutes, I think." "Two minutes and thirty seconds," Harding said. Professor Ingram said: "He was in the room for thirty seconds. People keep overestimating time, which is tiresome. In fact, Nemo didn't take any risks. You almost never got a chance to look at him, although you think You've looked at it. Inspector, if you want, I'll give you the entire timetable of the performance, including Chesney's every move. OK?" With Elliot's approval, Professor Ingram closed his eyes. "Let me start with Chesney going through the double doors and I turn off the lights here. About twenty seconds after I turn off the lights, Chesney opens the double doors and starts the show. Open the doors at Chesney Forty seconds between Nemo's entry. That's exactly one minute before Nemo's entry. Nemo's role ends in thirty seconds. After he leaves, Chesney sits for thirty seconds, then he falls forward He got up and closed the door again. I had a hard time turning on the light because I kept fumbling for the switch on the wrong side of the door. It took about twenty seconds. But the whole performance, from turning off the lights to turning them on, took two hours. Twenty seconds." Marjorie looked skeptical, and Harding shrugged.They don't refute, but they are unhappy.Both looked pale and tired.Marjorie trembled slightly, and her eyes looked tense.Elliott knew that the spring couldn't be too tight at once. "And now the last question," he said, "listen carefully. Who spoke? What was said?" "I'm glad this is the last question," swallowed Marjorie. "I can't be wrong this time. The man in the top hat never speaks." She looked at Professor Ingram sternly." You won't deny it, will you?" "No, dear, I won't deny it." "Uncle Marcus said it just once. It was when the man in the top hat put the black bag down on the table and went to the right side of the table. Uncle Marcus said: 'You have now done what you did before, What else are you going to do?'” Harding nodded. "That's right. 'Now that you've done what you did before, what are you going to do?' I'm not sure about the right words." "Is that the only line in the show?" Elliott asked. "yes." "I disagree," said Professor Ingram. "Oh, the damn thing!" Marjorie nearly screamed, standing up.Eliot was taken aback, surprised that her gentle face would also change, "You go to hell!" "Marjorie!" Harding yelled.Then he coughed and gestured awkwardly in Elliott's direction, like a grown man hoping to amuse a child by making faces. "It's not necessary, dear," Professor Ingram told Marjorie gently, "I'm just trying to help you. You know." Marjorie hesitated.Then her eyes filled with tears, and her face gave her a solid beauty that was not spoiled by a twitch of her mouth: "I'm sorry!" she said. "For example," continued Professor Ingram, as if nothing had happened, "someone else was speaking during the performance," he looked at Harding, "and you were speaking." "I talk?" Harding asked. "Yes. When Dr. Nemo enters, you step forward to get a better camera angle, and you say, 'Ah, the invisible man!' Right? And you," Professor Ingram said to Marjorie , "You also spoke, or whispered. When Nemo gave your uncle the castor oil capsule, and pulled his head to force him to swallow the capsule, you screamed. You said, 'Don't! Don't!' The voice was not Big, but clear." "I don't remember ever talking," Marjorie blinked, "but so what?" The professor's tone became lighter. "I'm helping you with Inspector Elliott's next attack. I tried to tell you long ago that he'd been wondering if any of us got out of here and murdered your uncle within two minutes of the lights going out. Now , I swear I saw and heard you two talking when Nemo was on stage. I can swear you never left this room. If you would do the same for me, we would be able to file three Police Scotland An alibi that cannot be denied. Can you swear?" Elliot cheered up.He knew the next few minutes would bring him to the crux of the case.