Chapter 17 Chapter 16 debut

The pimple-faced little wretch was sitting on the chair, leaning forward, clasped his hands, his head was slightly tilted to one side, and his neck was wrinkled; , But there is a smirk that flatters and flatters.Do you know the look on people's faces when they read magazine advertisements that encourage consumption?That's it.But his eyes were serious—and frightened. "You blind bastard, short winter melon," I suppressed the anger that was about to yell, and pointed my hand across the table to his face. "You promised me you would tell the truth. Who stole that dagger?"

"Ouch—" Poon said in a very hurt tone. "Who stole that dagger?" "Sir, you don't have to be impulsive, it's a stroke," sighed Poon.His voice was as thin as a gossamer, but there was still no flinching in his tone. "If you go on like this, you're going to have a stroke sooner or later. Listen, sir, don't worry! I only want one thing, and that is to give me a chance to explain. Please listen to me!" He took a deep breath, and his tone immediately calmed down. "I was sitting on a chair—the chair in front of the gate. Got it? It's almost 100 feet from the stairs (at least 80 feet away anyway). Between my position and the stairs, there is a row of bars that will block my view." The glass case is in the middle, isn't it? You say light? It's not as bright as moonlight. Besides, you can see that I can't boast that I can see far away. Now I ask you--Since then People were coming and going until 11 o'clock. If one of them stooped suddenly and quickly, would I notice? Would I notice the dagger? Think about it: my brain has Didn't the thought cross my mind? All right! So I said, why don't you judge after I've told the whole story?"

There was some truth to what he said, but I was still convinced he was lying.Anyway, I told him to go on. "Of course it starts from the moment the victim walks in," Poon said bluntly, then cleared his throat. "This is—" "Start talking after you sit down. Quarter past ten. You have half an hour to pass before the victim walks in. Start talking!" Poon said it was a complete waste of time, but he continued on. "Not much that I noticed. About two minutes after I sat down (I took down my pipe, as of course you were not allowed to smoke while on duty), the door of the curator's office opened and Miss Miriam and Miss Colton came out of the came out of it. Just then," said the poor wretch, as if imitating a policeman presenting physical evidence to the magistrate before him," Mr. Butler frantically walked upstairs from the Arabic display He ran down the stairs from the room. The police uniform he was wearing looked really out of place. Hehehe!

"'Nails!' he said, swinging the hammer I left upstairs for them. 'Nails! Where's the nails, Poon?' he cried through the hall. If you break anything, take the case out of the glass case; and the sawdust sack breaks, and you take out every nail.'” Mr. Butler seemed very agitated. "I apologized to him. I told him that Mr. Wade had a lot of nails in his jacket pocket in the cellar--you see, sir, the boss has a workshop down there, and he keeps his work clothes and other favorite things. There—so I said, I'll go right down and get them up-stairs. But Miss Miriam was quick to answer, and she was kind enough, and insisted that she get the nails. She's always so helpful. As a result, Miss Colton followed Mr Butler upstairs, and Miss Miriam went down to get the nails."

Poon leaned back.His voice was lifeless and inattentive, his eyes narrowed and he looked around, as if he wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible. "You bastard!" I said. "Yes, sir?" "You mean to tell me that Miss Miriam rushed down to the cellar for the nails impatiently?" "She was very well-intentioned," Poon said defiantly.He shook his hands, and tears flowed from his eyes instead of sweat. "I say Miss Miriam, she's always—" "When will she be back in the hall?" Poon thought for a moment. "Oh, maybe five to eight minutes. Something like that."

"Poon, that mouth of yours is full of lies. Damn it, can't you see that you're only hurting everyone by doing this? I've heard Dr. Illingworth's testimony, everyone else's Will listen to each one too. Illingworth arrived at the museum at 10:35. You say Miriam went down to the cellar shortly after a quarter past 10:01... You want me to believe she was looking for a nail under the cellar About 20 minutes? I'll tell you why, and it's roughly like this: Illingworth was walking to the back of the hall just in time to see Miriam coming up from the cellar. 20 minutes! And that's not all the loophole. As he came up, Illingworth was just there, when he heard the sound of nails being hammered upstairs. What's the matter? Illingworth got here at 10:35, and he really saw Miriam Do you want to come up?"

"Yes, he saw it," growled Poon. "Yes, he did. Why not? Because it was her second visit to the cellar." "She went down to the cellar for the second time?" "Yes, sir, I swear to God! It has nothing to do with the murder. It has nothing to do with it! Please listen to me, and let me tell you what it is." He tapped his palm with his finger.I don't want to condone such unreasonable nonsense anymore; but at this moment, he looks like he wants to tell the truth.There is less nervous pressure and less urge to talk big.Now he doesn't mind confessing, because the dangerous moment has passed.What is a dangerous moment?Yes, the dagger was stolen.In my bones I felt a horrible, ugly feeling of the fact that the dagger was stolen at that moment, and that it was Miriam who stole it.

"She went down to find the nails," Poon went on, in a hoarse and mysterious voice, "and then five to eight—well, about five minutes later, she went upstairs with the nails. Mr. Butler was just coming down. When he came upstairs, he wanted to know how she was doing, so as soon as the lady came up, she gave him the nail." "At that time, was it between 10:25 and 30?" (Another question I didn't ask. I couldn't ask at the time.) "Yes, sir. She handed him the nails, and he went upstairs. Then she was in front of the stairs--swinging around, so to speak--and walked briskly up the hall, also Just walking towards me. But she just nodded and smiled at me, and then walked into the Persian showroom—”

"Is it the showroom on the left when you stand in the hall and look back?" "Yes, sir. There is no light in there; I turned off all the lights after I got the tourists out at 10 o'clock sharp. So I said to her, 'Shall I turn the light on for you?' But she said, 'No Now, don’t bother.’ Then there was a moment of silence and silence. Occasionally I could hear Mr. Beckett’s footsteps walking about in the bazaar showroom and muttering to himself in Arabic. However , I gradually felt something was wrong, why didn't that actor show up? At this time, Miss Miriam came out from the Persian showroom, and she walked through the hall again—and so fast, it seemed that the door to the cellar was not opened Just go down again!"

"Is the door leading to the cellar in your sight?" "Oh, yes, sir. You can say that when I'm sitting in the chair, the door and my eyes can line up—at least half of the door is visible anyway. Well, I don't Too much time to think about this because the doorbell then buzzed... huh, that's a relief! The actor finally arrived, I guess! I don't think they'll hear the doorbell upstairs— —I mean Mr. Butler, Mr. Holmes, and Miss Colton—because I heard them upstairs hammering nails into boxes and going on and on. Wow, but I'm relieved! I Open the door, and the lunatic walks in...

"Come and judge," Poon yelled, "how can I tell that this person is not an actor sent by the agency? Apart from not wearing a beard, his appearance is so lifelike! A serious but ironic look like you've never seen in your life (and that top hat on his head); he has a stinkin' face, a clenched jaw, and horny glasses like a Yankee , the shoes on my feet are size 11, and I am not a human being because of you. But even so, sir, I still think it is strange. Because when I was about to amuse him, this person took out a card that said I read the business card of 'William Augustus Illingworth, Doctor of Divinity', and then pushed a book in Arabic in front of me, and then walked away angrily. I thought to myself: 'Hey, it really comes alive! ' But I'm starting to get a little uneasy again.Well, maybe it's okay - just look at the characters in the movie, how nervous they are about everything they do!The fellow stopped by the market showroom door, and must have seen Mr. Beckett, for he was babbling a long string of things I couldn't understand.Mr. Beckett also replied a few words.Then the lunatic went on to the back of the hall.At this moment Miss Miriam came up again through the door from the cellar, saw him, but went on upstairs without a word.Then the door of this office opened and Mr. Jerry came out angrily and said something like 'You're late, come in'. " "What time?" I interrupted him. "Exactly 10:35," Poon replied without hesitation. "I just checked my pocket watch just to see how late the guy was. Half an hour late! Humph! Later, Crazy and Mr. Jerry walked into this office, and I was still a little apprehensive—but something was wrong and I There was no time to think about it. About three to five minutes later, there was a loud bang!" "Don't jump like that!" I snapped at Poon.He had already jumped up and slammed his palms at the same time; but I hate jumpy people. "A loud bang? What do you mean by that?" He seemed really confused. "I don't know. It was a crash, sir, like something falling and breaking. It seemed to come from the direction of the fair-room. I yelled: 'Beckett Sir!' because I figured he might have broken something, but I'm the one who's going to get yelled at by Mr. Wade. So I rushed over to see—" "Wait a minute!" (There seems to be a lot of content here.) "Didn't you say that you never left your post from the beginning to the end?" He seemed genuinely surprised again. "Come on, sir, I forgot about that! Yes, I got out of my seat; though only once. You can't count that, really, because I didn't go very far... ’ His stupefaction was evidently connected with a new idea which he readily assented and which shocked him. "Yes, that's it! I see what you mean, sir! You mean someone stealthily stole the dagger as soon as I turned around?" I didn't expect this, but it's a possibility. "How long have you been away from the gate?" He was lost in thought. "About two or three minutes, sir. It went like this: I went over to see what was going on there; I looked in, but there was no sign of Mr. Beckett, and I wondered if it was me. Mistake, because there was no sign of broken objects around. At this moment, I really saw it! There were some coal dust on the ground, and a large area on the wall was filthy. Someone must have stood there just now, taking Throw a wad of coal at the wall." "who's that person?" "I don't know, sir, because Mr. Beckett went in alone, but I didn't see him. I called out, and then he appeared slowly from between the aisles. He said he was staying The Eight Paradise Showroom - the Eight Paradise Showroom is right next door, and there's a door between it and the Bazaar Showroom, so you don't have to go around the lobby - and he goes, 'Hey, this fucking What the hell are you doing?' I said, 'Mr. Beckett, did you throw that lump of coal?' He replied, 'What the hell are you talking about? Coal? What coal?' So I pointed my finger at the wall, But all he said was that he didn't have time to hang around with coal, and then walked out, as if offended by me, across the hall into the Persian showroom across the way. "But, sir, at this moment, I started to feel weird again-like a creepy feeling. This strange feeling was caused by that little bump just now. I thought to myself: Hey, there is someone very Strange and strange things are going on here. So there is a creepy feeling here occasionally." "Calm down. While you were standing in the market showroom, and Mr. Beckett hadn't gone to the Persian showroom, did you hear any noise in the hall? Footsteps, or anything like that?" Poon's subsequent startled jump, coupled with the flicker in his eyes when recalling, may be his lie or delusion.But it seemed to me that he was telling the truth. "Yes, I did hear it! You mention it now—I didn't think much of it at the time, because there are always many echoes in this place. But I did hear it, and I'll die of lying to you, I did hear the hall There was a noise like footsteps! That's when the dagger was stolen, I can assure you. I swear I—" "When did you hear those footsteps?" His facial features were huddled together again, as if he was exhausted from thinking about it. "Well—I thought, just after I poked my head around the fair showroom. Yes! That's when. Those footsteps sounded swift and furtive. I remember now." Folks, I'm not a very imaginative person, but the notion of this swift, furtive footstep stalking back and forth in there makes the hairs stand on end. I said: "Where were the rest?" "Oh, well, as far as I know, Mr. Jerry and the lunatic who I regard as an actor were in this office at the time; as for the rest, except for Mr. Beckett, they were all upstairs. How I know they're upstairs is because from 10:15 until 10:35 - the time the madman arrives - every once in a while one of them will pop up at the top of the stairs, Asked aloud at me: 'Is he here?' They were referring to him, of course the actor. Sir, I can't tell you how many times they asked me in total. I don't remember. It was one after the other anyway. Questions were asked at intervals. Sometimes Miss Colton, sometimes Mr. Holmes, or Mr. Butler. Ah, yes! The last time anyone asked a question was when Madman and Mr. Jerry entered the room office, and after Miss Miriam came up from the cellar a second time. Yes! Mr. Holmes came out of the upstairs showroom and called out to me: 'Poon, isn't anyone here yet?' (He was distracted Ning looked a little funny.) I replied cheerfully: 'Just arrived, sir, and I'm with Mr. Jerry at the moment.' Yes, I completely forgot about it. I can I recall it clearly because at the time I still wondered why Miss Miriam didn't tell the people upstairs that the actor had arrived when she saw the madman come in with her own eyes." "Did you hear Holmes' shout first, and then the coals crashing against the wall from the market showroom?" "Yes, sir, it was only two or three minutes apart. Anyway, it wasn't that long. Let's get back to the story of someone throwing coals at the wall... I heard a bang, and I've told you what happened afterwards." I’ve said it. At that time, I felt weird in my heart, and I heard footsteps in the hall again…” I wrote down all the narratives as I listened, in a form that would have given Pupkin a nod of approval; I could imagine him applauding as he sat beside me like a ghost.Besides, I'm almost as emotional as Poon. "Wait a minute," I said to him. "We already know that you were in the market showroom; Beckett walked across the hall into the Persian showroom opposite; Jerry and—Dr. Illingworth were in this room; the rest were upstairs. Must be very close to 10:45. Hey, is there any other way to get down (I mean the upper floor) other than the stairs at the end of the hall? Is there another ladder? Is there someone coming down the stairs whose whereabouts are out of your sight?" He didn't answer for a while.His eyes were fixed on me; his thin arms squirmed slowly, and then pulled his collar; in addition, I heard his whistling snort.His expression was very strange, his light blue eyes seemed to expand and contract at times. "Another way to get downstairs," Poon repeated to me before the question seemed to come back into his consciousness. "Only one, sir." "What method is that?" "There's a staircase in the corner of the Persian showroom on the first floor. The Persian showroom—you can go there now, if you like. It leads straight up to the showroom, where all kinds of shawls are on display. The staircase is Concealed rather than open, is the iron circular spiral staircase." "And it's the only way down the stairs?" "Yes, sir. Except for the elevator, but the elevator is as useless as St. Paul's, and besides, Mr. Jerry and that madman were sitting in this room at the time." "You said the Persian showroom was pitch black?" "Exactly." It was quite confusing, but I had to fight to the end to avoid being in a corner, and although I was more of a businessman than a detective, I thought I could get through this one. "I see. You go into the fair-room and find coal dust on the floor; you go on from here now." He took a deep breath, snorting loudly. "I'm looking around and touching here and there - now for the point - I'm going to search to see if anyone's hiding in here - you can see for yourself, it's full of tent curtains and stuff There are plenty of places to hide—just then, my God! The doorbell is buzzing again. "Damn, I'm almost scared out of my wits! I'm trying to stay calm, because I don't think Mr. Mannlering will be here so soon, and they're not ready yet. You're right, it's still too early. That's it. It's only 10:45. But then I thought maybe he'd be early... No, I thought, that wouldn't be the case; they've been telling him--or Miss Miriam has told him-- Don't arrive before 11 o'clock. That's when I started to wonder: the crazy person I opened the door to greet, Is it possible that I made a mistake and got the wrong person? Oh, I can tell you, I rarely doubt it like this My own! But I can't be foolishly helpless at that juncture. I have to make sure it's Mr. Manlering who rings the bell, and if so, I have to inform the others. To tell you the truth, sir, my thoughts In the extreme confusion, I even thought that maybe, just maybe, it was old Mr. Wade who came back unexpectedly... "Well, there's a little panel over the gate (just a little thing) that you can turn to get a peek out. So I went up to the gate and turned the panel. There was a fellow outside the door, who later Found the one who died." Sweat oozed on his forehead.He wiped the sweat with his sleeve, and his strokes on his forehead were short and sharp, like a woman powdering her face.He swallowed his saliva. "Tell me, sir, how the hell do I know who this guy is? He's kind of dark, with a black beard, and yellowish glasses with ribbons and a collar Standing up—somewhat like mocking me. The face approaching me had a strange face, as if it was about to pass through the hole in the top of the door in an instant: I thought he had passed through the copper door and entered the room. "I said, 'Who are you?' He called me back, but that—that was weird—" "You mean accent?" "Yes, sir, if you want to say that. And his teeth are just against the lower edge of the panel. Wow, what a disgrace! He looks a little rough, if you know what I mean." And he said: 'I'm someone from Branner, you idiot. Open the door!' I really felt like I was going to pass out at the time - ridiculously ridiculous, but I believed what he said, and as for the other guy, I also Clearly, it seems that I mistook Feng Jing for Ma Liang. "When I opened the door he said, still in the strange accent: 'Where's Miss Wade?'--that's what he said. I answered him: 'She's upstairs with the others; but don't you Never mind. There's someone else in there, I thought he was sent by Branner.' "He walked past me and said, 'Upstairs with the others. That's fine. Stay.' I was about to lead the way, and he said, 'I want to meet someone.' Wow, He doesn't need someone to guide him! Before I can respond or comment, this guy with his top hat and all his clothes is worn out and has a leather bound book under his arm. walked forward quickly. "At that time, I saw some phenomena that I didn't realize until now, because I remembered some things, and I can put them together now. I looked back at the door, went to close the panel above the door, and I see some marks on the floor inside the door. But those marks were not there a minute ago. They are like black dust, dirty and dirty footprints on the marble floor, where the guy's boots made it." "Pandro's boots you mean? The actor?" "Yes, sir, it was the guy who came in not long ago. The marks ran a little way down the hall and then faded away. I thought to myself, where did this guy get his boots so dirty? Just At that moment, sir, something came to my mind. As the guy walked down the hall past that carriage, his back—and the top hat on his head—seemed... seemed familiar. So I understood how It's over. "As I said, he got here at 10:45. But that's not the case. Because the guy had been at the museum earlier in the evening, closer to 10 o'clock." Poon leaned back in his chair triumphantly. "Sir, please listen to me carefully for the next part. I had a dream like this last night. It's not a good thing to have such a dream. I seem to see a face coming towards me through the bronze door. Reached over. But then he just kept walking, and when he came straight to the big black station wagon, there was a strange noise there. "It was someone's hissing, like this," Poon said, hissing and locking through his teeth. "Shhh, like the sound you make when you're trying to get attention. Got it? Maybe not loud, but just the echo and the sound that reverberates in a place like this is enough to startle the guy .He was taken aback and looked back to the left—that is, to the carriage. Someone was standing there hissing! The actor stopped and just stood there looking around for a while. I opened my mouth to speak, just nodded, and then quickly bent over the shaft, and got into the other side of the carriage that I couldn't see. Let's just say that there was a person standing on the far side of the carriage, and One side is a blind spot that I can't see in my line of sight." I interrupt Poon's narration as his voice sharpens. "You mean," I said, "that you can't see the other side of the carriage from where you're sitting?" "Sir, if I could see on the other side of the carriage, I'd be damned! You could try my chair. My chair—it's like this one. I looked straight ahead and could see the All the carriage doors on my side, and the door leading to the cellar at the end. The carriage train is on my left. That's right! There is also a row of stone columns over there, and the carriage row is between the stone pillars and the wall on the left. in a single row; once the carriages are in, there is not much space left there, so there is only a small passage between the other side of the carriages and the left wall. You know, the light is not very bright here, and the There are even more shadows around a carriage. "I was going over there to find out what the hell was going on there. But at that moment, I realized that Mr. Mannlering might show up at any moment, and I must not step away from the gate; because the time is almost here. Here... let's just say I didn't know what to do. Nevertheless, I took a few steps forward and called out, 'Hey, where are you? What are you doing over there with the carriage? Who are you? over there?'" "However, I didn't get any response." "No, sir, what I felt at the moment was not fright as you call it; it was not until the inspector discovered the body in the carriage that I began to be frightened. I didn't. I seemed to feel remorse and discomfort. It's like when you're expecting things to be fun and it turns out to be totally different. But then—" Poon leaned forward, he had a sudden flash of inspiration like a fluttering gas bulb. "At that time, I saw some phenomena that I didn't realize until now, because I remembered some things, and I can put them together now. I looked back at the door, went to close the panel above the door, and I see some marks on the floor inside the door. But those marks were not there a minute ago. They are like black dust, dirty and dirty footprints on the marble floor, where the guy's boots made it." "Pandro's boots you mean? The actor?" "Yes, sir, it was the guy who came in not long ago. The marks ran a little way down the hall and then faded away. I thought to myself, where did this guy get his boots so dirty? Just At that moment, sir, something came to my mind. As the guy walked down the hall past that carriage, his back—and the top hat on his head—seemed... seemed familiar. So I understood how It's over. "As I said, he got here at 10:45. But that's not the case. Because the guy had been at the museum earlier in the evening, closer to 10 o'clock." Poon leaned back in his chair triumphantly.