Chapter 16 Chapter Fourteen Who Did You Tell

Olivia knocked on the door of the guest room, and I woke up from a deep sleep. Even though my consciousness was hazy, the feeling of depression still flashed through my heart.Ever since Lil and I slowly realized that she no longer recognized me as my wife, I've spent too many nights in this room, and just smelling that hollow feeling and the elegant faux jasmine Eau de Parfum made me sad and tired, as if my whole body The joints were hit hard. "Franco, it's half past seven," Lil said softly through the door, "I thought you might want to talk to Holly, because she's going to school."

I swung my feet out of bed and rubbed my face with my hands. "Thanks, Li'er, I'll be right there." I really wanted to ask her for advice, but before I could say anything, I heard her heels clattering down the stairs.She won't come into the guest room lest she find me naked and try to lure her into a quick fix. I've always liked strong women.It's a good thing, because after twenty-five or so you don't meet any other kind of woman.Women drive me crazy.If the same experience were encountered by men, they would have died long ago, but women would become as strong as steel and unyielding.Men who say they don't like strong women are deluding themselves: Everyone likes a woman who knows how to pout cutely, talk softly, and put a man's guts in her makeup bag.

But I hope Holly is an exception, and I hope she has all the femininity that makes me crazy, soft as a dandelion, delicate as fiberglass.I hope my daughter will not become iron into steel.When she was born, I really wanted to kill people in the street and let her know that I would do anything for her.However, I made her part of my family, and within a year of being together, they had already taught her to lie and broke her heart. Holly sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor with the dollhouse in front of her and her back to me. "Hi sweetie" I said, "How are you?" shrug.She was already in her school uniform, and the shoulders in the navy blue coat felt so small that they could be grasped with one hand.

"Can I go in for a while?" Another shrug.I went in and closed the door and sat down beside her.Holly’s dollhouse is really not built. It imitates the big Victorian house lifelike, with over-complicated mini furniture, mini hunting pictures on the wall and over-forced mini servants. It is definitely Olivia’s father A gift from my mother.Holly took out the dining table and was wiping it vigorously with what appeared to be a bitten napkin. "Honey," I said, "if you're upset about Uncle Kevin, that's fine, and so am I." Her head dropped even lower.She had braided her own hair, and a few strands of blond hair came out in disarray.

"Do you have a question for me?" The wiping action slowed down, but only a little. "Mummy said he fell out of the window." Her nose was still plugged from crying. "yes." I could see that she was imagining that picture in her mind, and I really wanted to reach out and cover her head with my hand to cover it up. "Will it hurt?" "No, sweetheart, it's so fast, he doesn't even feel what's going on." "Why did he fall?" Olivia might have told her it was an accident, but Holly likes to cross-check like a kid whose parents are divorced and has two families.I've never cared about lying and cheating, but my conscience held Holly to a different standard. "The reason is not yet certain, my dear."

She finally looked up at me, her eyes swollen and red, but aggressive as fists. "But you'll find out, won't you?" "Yes," I said, "I will." She took one more look at me, then nodded, and continued to wipe down her small dining table. "Is he in heaven?" "say to me.My conscience towards Holly also has its limits.I personally think all beliefs are bullshit, but when your five year old daughter cries and asks you what's up with her hamster, you'll believe anything that takes away her heartbroken expression. "Of course, he's already in heaven, sitting on a million-kilometer chair, drinking a Guinness the size of a bathtub, and flirting with a pretty girl."

Holly made a snort that was part giggle, part sniffling sob. "Dad, stop messing around, I'm not kidding!" "I'm not joking, I dare say he must lower his head and wave to you now, asking you not to shed tears." Her voice trembled even more. "I don't want him dead." "I know, honey, and I don't want to either." "Conor Movey kept taking my scissors at school, and Uncle Kevin told me that the next time he did it, he said to him: 'You must like me to take my scissors.'" He It will definitely blush and stop bothering me. I tried it, and it really worked.”

"Uncle Kevin is amazing, did you tell him?" "Yes, he laughed. Daddy, it's not fair." She was about to burst into tears again, and I said, "It's so unfair, honey. I wish I could say something to make things better, but there's no way. Sometimes things are just as bad as they are, and there's nothing you can do about them." .” "Mommy said that after a while, when I think of him, I won't be sad." "What your mommy says is usually right," I said, "hopefully this time." "Uncle Kevin once told me that I was his favorite niece because you were his favorite brother."

Oh my God.I put an arm around her shoulder, but she moved away, wiping the little dining table harder, rolling the paper into a stiff little roller with her fingernails. "Are you angry because I went to grandparents' house?" "No, cutie, I'm not mad at you." "Is that angry mommy?" "Just a little bit, and we'll make up." Holly squinted at me, but only once. "Are you still yelling?" My mother taught me a lesson with a black belt since I was a child, and wanted me to apologize and admit my mistake, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't compare to what Holly could easily do.

"We didn't yell," I said, "I was just upset that no one told me what the hell was going on." silence. "Remember when we talked about secrets?" "Ok." "Remember we said you and your friends can have secrets, but if a secret makes you uncomfortable, it's a bad secret, need to tell me or your mommy?" "It's not a bad secret, they are my grandpa and grandma." "I know, sweetheart, I just want to tell you that there is another kind of secret. Although this kind of secret is not bad, others have the right to know," she still lowered her head, and began to tighten her jaw.

"For example, your mommy and I decided to move to Australia, should we let you know? Or carry you on the plane in the middle of the night?" shrug. "should." "Because this matter is also your business, you have the right to know." "Ok." "You start interacting with my family, and it becomes my business. It's not right to keep it secret." She wasn't very convinced. "If I tell you, you will only be very upset." "But now I will be even more unhappy. Why don't you tell me directly. Holly, sweetheart, it's better to tell me earlier, always, you know? Even if I don't like things, it's the same, keep it a secret It just makes things worse." Holly carefully pushed the table back into the dining room of the dollhouse, adjusting the position with her fingertips.I said, "I always tell you the truth, even if it hurts a little bit, and you should know. You need to be honest with me too, so it's only fair, isn't it?" With her voice in her mouth, Holly said to the dollhouse, "Dad, I'm sorry." I said, "I know, honey, it's okay. Next time there's something you don't want to tell me, remember what we just said, okay?" nod. "Fine," I said, "so you can tell me now how you and my family are doing. Did your grandma make you a cake?" A little overwhelmed with relief. "Yes, she also said that my hair is beautiful." Damn it, even praised her.I was about to refute my mother's overwhelming criticism of Holly, from her accent to her mannerisms to the color of her socks, but I didn't expect that my mother's power to hurt people has weakened as she got older. "She's right. What about your cousins?" Holly shrugged and pulled out the piano in the living room of the dollhouse. "They're good." "How good is it?" "Darren and Louise don't talk to me much because they're too big. But Donna and I each imitated the teachers in our own class and ended up laughing so loudly that Granny told us to be quiet or we'd be picked up by the police .” This is like the mother I knew and avoided. "Where's Aunt Carmel and Uncle Shay?" "They're alright. Aunt Carmel was a little bored, but when Uncle Shea came back, he taught me my math homework because I told him that Mrs. O'Donnell would kill me if I got the answers wrong." I'm so glad she finally learned to divide. "Uncle Shay is nice," I said. "Why don't you meet them?" "It's a long story, darling, I can't finish it in one morning." "You don't go to their house, but can I still go?" I said, "Let's talk." Everything felt perfect, but Holly still wasn't looking me in the eye.Besides these apparent troubles, something else bothered her.If she'd ever seen my dad in a drunken frenzy, there would have been a major war, maybe even another round of custody battles. I asked her, "So what's bothering you? Did any of them make you angry?" Holly held out a finger and tapped the nails up and down the keys.After a while, she said, "Grandpa and grandma don't have a car." I didn't expect it to be this. "That's right." "why?" "Because they don't need to." Holly looked bewildered.It occurred to me that everyone Holly had met growing up had a car, whether they needed it or not. "Then what are they going to do?" "They either walk or take the bus. Most of their friends live nearby, and it only takes a minute or two to walk, and the shops are all around the corner. What do you need a car for?" Holly thought for a minute. "Why don't they live in a detached house?" "They have always lived in the same place. Your grandma was born in that house. It's a pity to have her move out." "Why don't they have a computer, not even a dishwasher?" "Not everyone has these things." "Everyone has a computer." I really didn't want to admit it, but I slowly saw the intentions of Olivia and Jieqi in my heart, and understood why they wanted Holly to know my origin. "No," I said, "most people in the world can't afford a computer, and the same here in Dublin." "Father, are grandpa and grandma poor?" Holly's cheeks flushed slightly, as if she had said something bad. "Well," I said, "it depends who you ask, they don't think they're poor, they're better off now than they were when I was a kid." "Then they were poor before?" "Yes, sweetheart, although we are not hungry, we are indeed poor." "For example?" "For example, we don't have vacations, and we have to save money to watch movies. Also, I wear your Uncle Shay's old clothes, and Uncle Kevin wears my old clothes instead of buying new ones. It's like our family doesn't have enough bedrooms, so Your grandparents have to sleep in the living room." Her eyes were wide open, as if she was listening to a fairy tale. "real?" "That's right, many people used to be like this, it's not the end of the world." "But," Holly said, flushing now. "Crowley says poor people are bastards." This is no surprise.The Chloe family is rigid, the daughter is rigid, the mother is rigid, the father is rigid, and both adults and children are mean-spirited.My daughter is always giggling, my mother is anorexic, just because I left the slums a generation earlier than me, and my fat pig husband drives an American luxury SUV, so my speech is always noisy and slow, and my words are very simple.I've always thought that this rotten family should be banned from our house, but Lil said Holly herself would find that Chloe wasn't a good friend.Looks like I've won for sure this time. "Well," I said, "what does Chloe mean by that?" I kept my eyes peeled, but Holly knew me well enough to sneak a sideways glance at me. "That's not a dirty word." "But it's certainly not a good word. What do you think it means?" Holly twisted her body and shrugged. "You know what it means." "Little boy, if you want to use this word, you must at least know a little bit about the meaning of this word. Tell me." "Buggers are like chumps, they wear tracksuits all day, they don't work because they're lazy, they can't even speak clearly, they're poor people." I said, "What about me? Do you think I'm stupid and lazy too?" "of course not." "But my whole family is poor as hell." Holly panicked. "You are different." "Yes, assholes can have money or not, just like good people can have money or not. Money has nothing to do with being good or bad. Having money is good, but money doesn't make you who you are people." "Kroy said that her mother said that if you have money, you must let others know as soon as possible. This is super important, otherwise no one will respect you." "Kroy's family," I said patiently.Your majesty ran out. "Too vulgar to even a well-dressed punk." "What do you mean vulgar?" Holly put down the piano, looked up at me with utterly bewildered eyes, her brows were furrowed, and she waited for me to explain everything and clarify all the clues. From her birth to the present, this may be the first time that I don't know how to answer her.To a kid who thought everyone had a computer and grew up watching Britney Spears, I didn't know how to explain the difference between material poverty and spiritual poverty, or vulgarity, and how things got messed up. I really wanted to get Olivia and show her how to do it, but it wasn't Lil's business anymore: my relationship with Holly was my problem alone.So I took the mini piano out of her hands, put it back in the dollhouse, and sat her in my arms. Holly looked up into my face and said, "Chloe is dumb, isn't she?" "Oh yeah, of course," I said, "where in the world is there a need for a fool, just let Chloe and her parents go there." Holly nodded, curling up against my chest, my chin resting on her little head.After a while, she said, "Can you take me someday to see where Uncle Kevin fell?" "If you feel the need to take a look," I said, "that's all right, I'll take you there." "not today." "I know," I said, "let's get through the day first." I rocked Holly back and forth in my arms, and she bit her braided tail thoughtfully.We just sat on the ground in silence until Olivia said it was time for school. I bought an extra-large coffee and a weird-looking, supposedly organic muffin at the Daisy—I had the feeling that Olivia was afraid I'd be mistaken, thinking that if I'd bought me breakfast, I'd be asked to stay back.I sat on the wall enjoying my breakfast, watching guys in overweight suits and tanks pull into the traffic, and getting pissed at the fact that no one would give way.Then I unplugged my voicemail. "Well, that, Franco... Hi, I'm Kay. Listen, I know you said the time is wrong, but... I mean, not now, but, when you're free, can you Give me a call? Let's say tonight, even if it's late. Uh, thanks, bye." He hung up on the second call without leaving a message, and the same on the third call, when Holly and Jackie and I had our mouths full of pizza.It's almost seven o'clock on the fourth pass, and Kevin should be on his way to Mom and Dad's house. "Franco, it's me again. Look... I really need to talk to you. I know you probably don't bother me, yes, but I swear to God, I really didn't mean to bother you, it was just... Can you call me back? Well, uh, I guess...bye." From the time I called him back to the bar on Saturday night to Sunday afternoon when he was on the phone, something changed.Maybe something happened, maybe in the bar—the Blackbird has a few regulars, and it's a miracle they haven't killed yet—but I don't think so.Kevin was anxious long before we got to the bar.From what I've known of him--and I think there's some reference to it--he's an easy-going guy, but he's been eccentric since we went to search Sixteen.I didn't take it seriously at the time, thinking that most people would be uncomfortable thinking about dead people, and I was distracted.In fact, things are not that simple. No matter what Kevin is worrying about, it definitely didn’t just happen last weekend, but it has been buried in his heart for a long time, perhaps for twenty-two years, until he was drawn out by something on Saturday, and then slowly (our little one) Kay was never one to move fast) comes to mind and starts to annoy him, more and more.He spent twenty-four hours trying to ignore it, sort it out, or figure it out on his own before turning to his brother Franco for help.When I told him to step aside, he was the worst. His voice on the phone was beautiful, even with confusion and concern, it was still pleasant, and it felt like a nice person, someone wanted to know. What to do next, my options are limited.Since half the neighbors think I'm a cold-blooded brother murderer, it's not so much fun to hang out with them.Besides, I also had to stay out of the King's sight, if nothing else, for the sake of George's stomach.The problem was walking around, staring at the phone like a nympho waiting for Stephen to call, and the idea wasn't particularly appealing either.Even if I don't do anything, I don't want to wait in vain. Something poked at the back of my neck, as if pulling out my fine hairs one by one.I gave it my full attention right away because I had overlooked it so many times before that it almost cost me my life.I must have missed something, seeing and hearing it and letting it slip away. Undercover is not the same as the serious crime team boy, can't take good pictures, so our memory is surprisingly good.I adjusted my posture and sat on the wall more comfortably, then lit a cigarette, and began to review the information I had collected in the past few days in detail. One thing popped up: I still don't know how the suitcase ended up in the chimney.According to Nora, the box should have been placed between Saturday night and Saturday night when she borrowed the Walkman from Rosie on Thursday afternoon. But according to Mandy, Rosie didn't have a key to the house in those two days, and her house was separated from No. 16 by many troublesome yard walls, so the possibility of stealing the box at night was more or less ruled out.In addition, Matt Daly watched his daughter like a hawk, and it was difficult to carry such a large thing out during the day.And according to Nora, Rosie walked to work with Imelda Tini on Thursdays and Fridays. On Friday night, Nora and her friends go to the movies, and Rosie and Imelda can pack and plan undisturbed in the bedroom. Take whatever you want. Imeda currently lives in Harrows Lane, just far enough from Loyalty to be off the ball king's radar.According to the look in Mandy's eyes when talking with me, Imeda should be at home during her lunch break, and she didn't get along well with her neighbors back then, so it shouldn't be difficult to be impressed by a prodigal son who turns back.I poured out the cold coffee and walked to the car. I asked my friend at DGT for the electricity bill of Imelda Tini, whose address is No. 3, 10 Harlows Lane.The house was a rental apartment with broken roof tiles, paint peeling off the front door, dirty windows with loose screens.It can be felt that the residents here really hope that the landlord can find one or two decent yuppie tenants, otherwise they simply set fire to the house and exchange some insurance money.I guessed right, Imida was at home. "Franco," she said when she opened the door to see me, a mixture of surprise, joy, and fear in her voice.She said, "My God!" Over the past twenty-two years, time has not treated Imeda kindly.She is not a fairy, but at least she is tall enough, and her legs and walking posture are beautiful enough. These three points alone are definitely not too bad.However, at this moment, she is the femme fatale commonly known in the group, with the figure of "Baywatch" but the appearance of "Crime Scene". Her figure is still graceful and graceful, but there are bags under her eyes and scar-like wrinkles on her face.She was wearing a white tracksuit with coffee stains on her chest, which had been washed out countless times. As soon as she saw me, she reached out and smoothed my top, as if she would instantly return to the colorful days of her youth, to the good weekend nights.Such a small gesture went straight to the bottom of my heart. I said, "Hello, Mei." Then I gave my biggest smile and reminded her that we have been friends for many years. I've always liked Imeda, she's smart, full of energy, a little emotional and tough, all tempered by life: everyone has only one father, but she has changed one after another, and some of them married not her mother at all, And that was a big deal at the time.When we were kids, Imida's mother made her suffer.We all had a hard time, but an unemployed alcoholic father was no worse than a sloppy mother. Imida said: "I heard what happened to Kevin, may he rest in peace, it's a pity you went through this." "May he rest in peace," I echoed. "Since I'm back in this area, I think it would be nice to meet some old friends." I stayed at the door, and Imida glanced back hastily, but I held on, leaving her no choice. "My house is a bit of a mess—" "Do you think I care? You should see my house. Nice to see you." Before I could finish my sentence, I walked in. The apartment didn't look like a kennel, but Imida was right.One look at Mandy at home shows she is content, if not joyful, life is what she loves.Imida is not.The living room is full of stuff, used mugs and Chinese takeaway cartons are thrown around the sofa, women's clothes, large and small, are hanging on the electric heater to dry, boxes of pirated DVDs are piled up in the corners and gathering dust, making the room feel smaller than it actually is. The heater was turned on too strong, the windows had not been opened for a long time, and the whole room smelled of soot, food and women.Everything except the oversized TV should be thrown out and replaced with new ones. "You're not a bad little nest," I said. Imida immediately replied: "It's rotten." "Where I lived as a kid was worse." She shrugged and said, "So what? It's bad here. Tea?" "Okay, have a drink. How are you doing?" She goes to the kitchen. "You can tell by looking, sit down." I found a place on the sofa that didn't harden and sat myself down. "I heard you had several daughters, isn't that true?" The door of the kitchen was ajar, and I saw Imeda holding a kettle in her hand and was stunned for a moment."I heard you became a policeman," she said. I'm used to people thinking that I'm an accomplice of the state apparatus, and the unreasonable anger towards me even started to feel quite useful. "Imelda," I said in an angry and heartbroken tone after a few seconds of stunned silence, "what are you kidding? Do you think I'm here to harass your child?" shrug. "How do I know, they didn't do anything anyway." "I don't even know what their names are, I just ask, fuck it. Even if you gave birth to a member of the Sopranos, I don't bother to care. I just came to say hello to you for the sake of my old friendship. If you have any complaints about my job of making a living, just tell me, I will pat my ass and leave immediately, I promise you." Soon, I saw Imeda turn the corner of her mouth reluctantly and turn on the kettle. "You're still the same, Franco, and you're still as hot-tempered. Yes, I had three, Isabel, Shania, and Genevieve. It was a disaster, three teenage girls. And you?" No mention of the father (or persons) was made. "I have a daughter," I said, "who is nine years old." "Just wait and see, good luck. People often say that sons are bad and daughters are upset. It's true." She took two tea bags and threw them into the cup. Just watching her actions made me feel old . "Are you still a tailor?" He snorted, maybe a slight smile. "My God, it's been a while. I left the garment factory twenty years ago, and now I do a little bit here, a little bit here, and most of them are cleaners," she gave me a provocative sideways glance, wanting to see my reaction. "Eastern Europeans are cheaper, but some places still want people who can speak English. If I can do it, I will do it." The kettle boiled, and I said, "Have you heard about Rosie?" "Well, I heard that, it's really surprising. Over the years..." Imeda shook her head slightly while pouring tea, as if trying to get rid of some thoughts. "For so many years, I thought she had gone to England, so I couldn't believe it when I heard the news, and there was nothing I could do. I won't lie to you, the day I heard the news, I was like a walking dead." I said, "Me too, it was a rough week." Imida took a jug of milk and a packet of sugar to make room on the coffee table.She said: "Kevin is a lovely young man and it's a shame it happened, it's a real shame. I was going to your house that night and it was just..." She shrugged and said nothing further.Given Chloe and her mommy a million years, they probably wouldn't know how long the slight class gap between Imeda and our family really is, which makes Imeda feel (and probably rightly) that I Mom should not welcome her presence. I said, "I always thought I'd see you that day. But then again, it's easier to talk now, isn't it?" Imeda smiled half-smile again, but she was no longer as forced as before. "Sure enough, it's Franco, who still speaks so skillfully." "However, my hair looks much better now." "Well, that's right. Remember that punk head of yours?" "That's not the worst. I had Chippy's toilet seat before, and that was even more exaggerated." "Well, stop talking, his bird's nest head." Imeda went back to the kitchen to get the cup.There's plenty of time, but sitting here and chatting won't do me any good.Imeda is much harder to deal with than Mandy. Even though I can't figure out why I'm here, at least I know I have something in mind.She went back into the living room and I said, "May I ask you something? I know I like to ask questions, but I swear I have a valid reason." Imeda stuffed the tea-stained cup into my hand and sat down in the armchair without leaning against the back of the chair, her eyes still wary. "Just ask." "You helped Rosie take the suitcase to number sixteen. Where did you put it?" Imeda's eyes were blank for a moment, half-foolish, and I suddenly realized who I was.Even if her gut reaction was different, it still couldn't erase the bloody fact that she was talking to the police.It didn't take a second to think her answer, she said, "What suitcase?" "Hey, come late, Imeda," I said with a relaxed smile, and if my tone was slightly wrong, my trip would be in vain. "Me and Rosie, we've been planning for months and you think she hasn't told me what she's going to do?" The bewilderment on Imeda's face slowly subsided some, not all, but enough.She said: "I don't want to get in trouble for this. If people ask, I won't admit it." "No problem, baby, I'm not going to make you mess up. You did us a huge favor and I appreciate it, I just wanted to make sure no one else touched the suitcase after you put it in. You remember you put the suitcase in Where is it? When was it released?" Imeda blinked her sparse eyelashes, looked at me sharply, trying to figure out my intentions.Afterwards, she took out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and said, "Rossie told me three days before you set off, and she didn't mention it at all. Mandy and I guess she has something to hide, but we don't know what it is. You find Have you been to Mandy?" "I've found it, she's doing well." "Lucky guy," Imeda clicked on the lighter and said, "do you smoke?" "Okay, thanks, I thought you and Mandy were on good terms." She sneered, put the lighter in front of me and said, "That's in the past tense, and she is not someone like me who can afford her now. To be honest, I don't know if it's really better if we die, she and I just Often with Rosie, and after Rosie left..." I said, "You're Rosie's closest friend." Imeda gave me a "save it, you're still a long way off" look. "If we kissed, she would tell me your plan right away, not at the end, wouldn't she? Rosie would tell me, just because she was stared at by her father and couldn't do it herself. Our We went to and from get off work together for a while, chatting while walking, I forgot what to talk about, anyway, it was a girl's topic. That day, she said she needed a favor from me." I said, "How did you get the suitcase out of her house?" "Easy enough. The next day after get off work, Friday, I went to Daly's house and told her old mom we were going to listen to Rosie's new 'Dancing Rhythms' album in Rosie's room, and they just told us to keep our voices down. A little. Let's turn up the volume a little bit, just to cover the sound of Rosie's packing." Imeda smiled slightly. Her elbows were on her knees, she was smoking a cigarette and smiling to herself, and it made me see that quick, articulate girl again. "You should have seen her at the time, Franco. She was jumping around the room, singing to the comb, and even bought new panties, not wanting you to see the old dirty ones. She was holding the new panties waving over the head... pulled me to dance together, we both looked like a pair of idiots, laughing out loud but trying to keep the volume down so her mother wouldn't come up and see what we were doing. I think she was because It's so happy to finally be able to tell the truth after hiding it for so long, it's like flying into the sky." I suddenly turned off the picture in my mind, and I will talk about it later. "That's great," I said, "that's great to hear. And when she's done packing?" Imida laughed. "I walked right out of her house with the suitcase, no kidding you. I wrapped it in my coat, but it wasn't going to scare anyone at all, just take a second look. I came out of the bedroom and Rosie said goodbye to me, loudly on purpose. Dear, I shouted my goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Daly, who were watching TV in the living room. When I stepped out the door, Mr. Daly turned to look at me, but just wanted to make sure Rosie didn't follow, and didn't pay attention to the suitcase, and I left with ease." "It's yours," I smiled back, "and then you took the suitcase directly to the sixteenth?" "Yeah, it was winter, it was already dark, and it was cold, and everyone was at home, and no one saw me," she mused, her eyes hidden in cigarette smoke, "I tell you, Franco, I was terrified to go into that room. I'd never been there at night, at least not alone. The most frightening thing was the stairs, which were completely dark when there was at least a little light in the room through the windows. Upstairs, got spider silk all over my body, the stairs are wobbly, make me feel like the whole house is going to collapse, and there are noises from every corner... I swear I feel like someone is watching me in the house, maybe It's a wandering spirit, and I'd scream if anyone touched me. I put my suitcase down and ran out of the house like my ass was on fire." "Do you remember where you put the box?" "Remember, Rosie and I discussed it beforehand. Put it behind the fireplace in the front room on the second floor, you know, the big room. If it doesn't fit, it'll be tucked under that pile of boards and metal in the corner of the basement. But I didn't want to go down unless I had to, and it turned out the fireplace was just right." "Thanks, Imelda," I said, "thanks for your help. I should have thanked you a long time ago, but better late than never." Imida said, "Then can I ask you something? Or is it up to you to ask me questions?" "You say you're like the Gestapo. Shall I ask you to answer? Of course not, baby. Be fair. Just ask." "They're saying Rosie and Kevin were killed, murdered, both. Are they just saying it, or is it real?" I said, "Rosie was murdered, yes, Kevin doesn't know it yet." "How did she die?" I shook my head and said, "No one told me." "Oh, yes." "Imelda," I said, "it's your freedom to treat me like a cop, but I assure you that not a single person in the bureau thinks so at the moment. I'm not in charge of this case, and I shouldn't even be near it. I've asked Just came here this week and I'm not a cop this week, just a dork who loves Rosie Daly so much she won't let her go." Imeda bit her lower lip hard, and she said, "I love her too, very much, very much." "I know, that's why I came to you. I have no idea what happened to Rosie, and I don't believe the police will try to find out. I need help, Mei." "She shouldn't have been killed, she's too evil, Rosie never hurt anyone, she just wanted to..." Imeda fell silent, smoking quietly, her fingers digging into the hole in the sofa, but I could feel her I was meditating, so I didn't interrupt.After a while, she said, "I thought she was the only one who escaped." I raised my eyebrows and looked inquiringly. Imeda's weather-beaten cheeks flushed slightly, as if she had said something stupid.But she continued: "Just: Take Mandy for example, look at her, just like her mother, grow up and find someone to marry, quit her job to save her husband and children, and be a good wife 、好妈妈，住原来那间房子，我敢说她连衣服都是穿她老妈的。所有人都知道长大不会改变什么，即使再怎么强调自己会不一样，最后还是变成老爸或老蚂。” 她将烟摁熄在满是烟蒂的烟灰缸。 “还有，你看看我，看我成了什么德行，”她扬起下巴扫过公寓一圈说：“三个孩子三个爹——曼蒂可能跟你说了，对吧？我二十岁就怀了伊莎贝儿，宣接失业，从此再也找不到一个像样的工作。没结婚，男人没有一个留过一年，而且一半是有妇之夫。年轻时，我有几百万个梦想，如今全都烟消云散，而我则是变成了我妈，一个屁也没有，转眼醒来就是这样了。” 我从自己口袋里捞出两根烟，点了一根给伊美达。“谢了，”她转过头，免得烟喷到我脸上。“萝西是唯一没变成她老妈的人，我喜欢想到她，每当我遇到挫折，总喜欢想象她在某个角落，不管是伦敦、纽约或洛杉矶，做我想都没想过的疯狂工作，想象她是那个逃过的人。” 我说：“说起来，我也没变成我老妈或我老爸。” 伊美达没有笑，我读不出她眼神里的意涵，也许是说“当警察能算进步吗”。沉默片刻，她说：“夏妮亚怀孕了，才十七岁，不晓得孩子的老爸是谁。” 这件事连球王也没办法正面思考。我说：“起码她有个好母亲可以帮助她。” “是啊，”伊美达说，肩膀微微下垂，仿佛希望我有什么良方。 "whatever." 附近公寓传来五角的说唱音乐，开得震天响，有人大吼叫对方小声一点，然而伊美达似乎毫无所觉。我说：“我得再问你一件事。” 伊美达感觉很敏锐，而我的语气显然触动了她的神经，茫然的表情再度回到她脸上。我说：“你有跟谁说我和萝西要私奔吗？” “我谁都没说，我又不是大嘴巴。” 她身体坐直，准备反唇相稽。我说：“我当然不认为你会开口，只是要套二个人的话有千百种方式，管他是不是大嘴巴。你当时才，多少——十八、十九岁？把十几岁的孩子灌醉让他说溜嘴很简单，说不定一两杯就够了。” “我没那么笨。” “我也是。伊美达，你听我说，那一晚有人在十六号等萝西，在那里见她，将她谋杀弃尸。世界上只有三个人知道萝西会去那里拿手提箱：我、萝西，还有你。但找没有告诉任何人，而你也说了，萝西守口如瓶了几个月。你或许是她最好的朋友，但假如可以，她连你也不会说。你要我相信她会突然找人说出一切，只是为了好玩？胡扯。所以只剩下你。” 我话还没说完，伊美达已经站起来，一把抢走我手里的杯子。 “你他妈的混蛋，竟然在我家里说我泄密，我刚才根本不该让你进门。亏你还说来看老朋友，老朋友个屁，你只是想刺探我知道多少——” 她冲到厨房，将两只杯子重重摔进水槽。只有罪恶感才会让人火力全开。我立刻跟了上去。“亏你还说自己多爱萝西，还希望她足逃过的人，难道你也在放屁？伊美达，是吗？” “你根本不晓得自己在讲什么。你倒简单，大爷，隔了这么多年到我这里，想来就来，想走就走。但我还得住在这里，我小孩也得住在这里。” “你觉得我看起来像是要走的样子吗？我来了，伊美达，不管我喜不喜欢，而我哪儿都不会去。” “错了，你现在就滚出我家。把问题塞回你的屁眼，然后离开。” “跟我说你告诉谁，我就离开。” 我靠太近了。伊美达背靠炉子，目光扫过厨房，想找逃脱的路线。当她再次望着我，我在她眼里看见不由自主的恐惧。 “伊美达，”我尽可能温柔地对她说，“我不会打你，我只是想问你问题。” 她说：“出去。” 她一手伸到背后抓住了什么，我顿时明白她的恐惧不是出于条件反射，不是之前哪个混球揍她的后遗症。她怕的是我。 我说：“妈的，你到底以为我想对你做什么？” 她低声说：“有人警告过我。” 我还没意会过来，身体已经向前一步。我看见她举起面包刀，张嘴准备尖叫，于是我转身离开。我走到楼梯底下，她才鼓足力气冲到楼梯并对我咆哮，让邻居都能听见：“你别想再踏进我家一步！”说完砰的一声将门用力关上。