Chapter 6 Chapter Six at the Three Crowns

Detective Narracott was delayed in seeing Mrs. Belling before he decided to go to Major Burnaby. Mrs Belling is the licensed owner of Three Crowns.She was bulky, impulsive, and scheming in her words.There is really nothing you can do with such a woman, you have to wait patiently for her to shut up before you can intervene. "What a dreadful snowy night, never seen before." She concluded by saying, "None of us imagined that the poor dear gentleman would come upon us. Those vicious bums,--if I've said it once, I've said it a dozen times. I can't stand it No one can tolerate a vicious tramp. The captain will not even keep a dog for protection, and he will not tolerate a dog. Well, within this stone's throw, no one can ever predict what will happen .”

"Yes, Mr. Narracott," she began to answer his question, "the major is having breakfast, and you can find him in the coffee shop. Well, there is no pajamas or anything, who knows what happened last night." How he got through it. But I, a widow with nothing to lend him, can't tell. Since his best friend was murdered, it's not difficult to understand, no matter how excited or insane he may be. Although the captain They are notorious misers, but they are both very gentlemen. Why, I always thought it would be dangerous to live in Sinofort, dozens of miles away. But now in Exhamton, the captain is also murdered. Take Erracott, do you think it is dangerous?"

Detectives said there was no doubt about it.Then asked: "Mrs. Belling, who stayed with you yesterday? Is there any stranger?" "Well, let me see, there's Mr. Moresby and Mr. Jones—they're on business. And a young gentleman from London. There's no one else. No one at this time of year." Come on, this is in order. How deserted it is here in winter! Yes, there is a young man who came by the last train, we call him Bao Inquiry. Haven't gotten up yet?" "The last train?" asked the detective. "Didn't it arrive at ten o'clock? I think he can be left alone. How about the one from London? Do you know the place?"

"Never met him. Not a business man, oh no, a class above a business man. I can't remember his name now. You'll know when you go to the registration office and look up the registration form. Schitt's first train left at ten minutes past six, which is quite strange, and what he is doing here needs to be figured out." "Didn't he talk about it?" "Not at all." "Doesn't he always go out?" "Arrive around lunch time, go out around 4:30, and come back around 6:20." "Where is he going?" "I don't know at all, sir. Probably just a stroll. It was before the snow, but it wasn't a good day for a walk."

"Out at four-thirty and back about six-twenty," said the Inspector backwards. "That's rather queer. Didn't he mention Captain Trevelyan?" Mrs. Belling shook her head resolutely. "No, sir. He didn't mention a single one. He was alone. That handsome boy, he seems to me to be very preoccupied." The detective nodded and went to look through the register. "Jim Pearson, from London," said the detective. "Well, that doesn't mean anything. We must inquire about this Mr. Pearson." So he went to the café to see Major Burnaby. The major was sitting alone in the café, drinking a rather strong coffee, with a copy of The Age in front of him.

"Are you Major Burnaby?" "I am." "I'm Narracott, special detective from Exeter." "Hi, is there any progress?" "Yes, sir. I thought we were going. I can't be wrong to say so." The major said flatly, "I'm glad to hear you say that." Clearly, he held a distrustful attitude. "Right now, there are only one or two points that need to be implemented." "Can I help you?" asked the major. "As far as you know, does Captain Villian have any enemies?" "He has no enemies," said Burnaby with certainty.

"That Evans—do you think it's reliable?" "I think it's reliable. Trevelyan trusts him, I know that." "Has he no ill feeling toward that marriage?" "No resentment, no. Even if Trevelyan was disgusted, it wasn't like his old temper. He's an old bachelor, you know." "Speaking of celibacy is another question. Trevelyan was not married, but did he make a will? If not, do you know who will inherit from him?" "He made a will," said Burnaby at once. "Ah! You know about this?!" "Yes, he told me that he wanted me to be the executor of the will."

"What he does with his property, do you know?" "I can't tell." "Is he doing well?" "Trevelyan is a rich man," said Burnaby. "I can say that he is richer than anyone here." "Do you know what relatives he has?" "He had a sister, nephews and nieces. They were rarely seen, but they didn't quarrel." "His will, do you know where he is?" "At Walters and Colewood Joint Office. They were Exhamton's solicitors, and they drew up the will for him." "Major Burnaby, since you are the executor, will you now come with me to Walters and Colewood? I am very anxious to learn the contents of the will as soon as possible."

Burnaby looked sensitively, and said: "What's the matter? What does the will have to do with it?" The detective did not intend to show his cards so soon, saying: "This case is not as simple as we think. Besides, I would like to ask you a question, Major Burnaby. It is said that you asked Dr. Warren whether death is Happened at five twenty-five?" The major gruffly said "uh" "Major, what prompted you to choose this exact time?" "Why not?" said Burnaby. "Then... what must have occurred to you at that time?" There was a long silence before Major Burnaby answered, which aroused the interest of Inspector Narracott. The major was obviously concealing something, which was extremely ridiculous.

He said gruffly, "Why can't I say it happened at five-twenty-five? Or at five-five, or at four-twenty?" "Very well, sir," said the detective conciliatoryly. He didn't want to annoy the major just yet, and he was counting on today to find out the truth of the matter. "One thing surprises me, sir," he added. "yes?" "I don't know what you think of the letting of the Sittaford flat? I find it a little strange." "If you want to know," said Burnaby, "it's a damn strange thing." "Do you think so too?"

"Everyone thinks so." "Everyone in Sitaford?" "Sitaford and Exhamton. The woman must be mad." "Well, I guess it's not a matter of interest," said the detective. "Women have such quaint interests." "Do you know this woman?" "I knew her. Well, then—I was at her house." "At that time?" When the major stopped abruptly, the detective followed closely. "Nothing," said Burnaby. Detective Narracott looked at him with sharp eyes, and the deep meaning in it was exactly what he wanted to know. The Major was embarrassed, and was about to say—"What?" "The timing is right," said Narracott to himself, "but this is not the time to annoy him." He exclaimed naively: "Sir, at that time at Sittaford House, how long did your lordship live there?" "Two months." The Major's efforts to divert the subject made him more talkative than usual. "Only the widow and the girl?" "correct." "Did she say why she chose this residence?" "Oh..." The major wiped his nose hesitantly, "talkative, good-natured, and reclusive, that's the kind of person, but..." He paused a little out of control. Narraco waited for the detective to relieve him and said: "From her point of view, don't you think there is something strange about this?" "Oh, that's right. She's a fashionable woman, well-dressed, and her daughters are pretty and charming, and it's only natural for people like them to stay in the Riswak Laxuanso or some other big hotel, you know." I understand." Narracott nodded, and asked, "Don't they hang out with other people? You think they're reclusive, don't you?" Burnaby shook his head resolutely, and said: "Oh, no, it's not like that at all, they're very sociable—a little too much. I mean, a small place like Sinofort, You can't go on a lot of dates and it's kind of hard to deal with the flood of invitations from them, they're friendly, hospitable people. A bit too hospitable from a British point of view." "That's the custom of the colony," said the detective. "Yes, I think so." "Have you any grounds for thinking that they knew Captain Trevelyan before?" "They certainly don't know each other." "It seems too absolute?" "Evans probably told you already." "Don't you think they've tried to make friends with the captain?" Evidently the major was surprised by this, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, said: "Well, I never thought of that. They were really warm to him. I don't mean that there was any change in their attitude. That's why , I think, this is just the way they behave in the world. There is no other motive, and excessive friendliness is the characteristic of colonial residents." The retired soldier with extremely narrow thinking added. "Understood. As for the house, I hear it was built by Trevelyan, didn't it?" "correct." "Hasn't anyone else lived in? I mean, hasn't rented out before this?" "Never leased to anyone." "How incomprehensible! It seems that it is not the house itself that is attractive. Nine out of ten houses have nothing to do with the case. This ingenious coincidence just shocked me. Whose house is it?" "It's Miss Rabe's. She spends the winter at Shelton's. It does that every year. Often it's closed, but she lets it out when she can." Seeing that no more reliable information could be obtained, the detective shook his head in disappointment and said, "I heard that Williamson is their agent, isn't it?" "Yes" "Isn't their office in Exhampton?" "Next door to Walters Kerwood." "Oh! Major, if you don't mind, let's drop in there." "That's all right. But you won't see Kerwood until ten o'clock." "Well, shall we go now?" The major had already had his breakfast and stood up with a nod.