Chapter 2 african traveler

Mr. Ellery Queen, dressed in loose English tweed, marched down the eighth-floor corridor of the Arts Building in speech-like pose.The tweeds were made in Bond Street, for Ellery's clothes were always made to order, but the reflection was American, and Ellery's ears were full of the strange dialect of young university students, and he himself He graduated from Harvard. He led the way with his cane, past a group of shouting students, brooding.This is higher education in New York!He sighed, his soft silver-gray eyes behind the lenses of his pince-nez.Because of the keen observation ability necessary to study crime phenomena, he couldn't help noticing the rosy complexion, lively eyes and willow-like figure of the female students along the way.His alma mater, he thought dejectedly, was a model of education, but she would be better off if she had these sweet-smelling classmates in her gym class, really!

Shaking off these unprofessional thoughts, Mr. Ellery Queen walked cautiously through a crowd of giggling girls and walked with dignity to his destination: Room 824. He stopped, and a tall and beautiful young woman stood leaning against the closed door, obviously waiting for him, which made him feel a little scared.She was actually leaning on a small sign that read: There is of course some profanity in this.The girl looked up at him with admiration and respect in her eyes.In such a situation, what should a scholar do?Ellery thought silently.Tell her firmly whether she is a young lady or not—his decision is taken out of his hands, or should I say, in his arms."You're Mr. Ellery Queen himself, aren't you?" said the handsome robber, clutching his left arm.

"I--" "I know you are. You have the most beautiful eyes, what a strange color. Wow, this must be exciting, Mr. Quinn!" "What did you say?" "Ah, I didn't say anything, did I?" She finally let him go.He noticed that her hands were ridiculously small, and she said seriously, as if he was exactly what she expected, "You're the famous detective, uh, another victim of a fantasy... old Ike called me of." "Old Ike?" "You don't even know him. For God's sake! Old Ike is Professor Exo, B.A., M.A., D.Phil, and God knows what else."

"Ah!" said Ellery, "I'm beginning to understand." "Just in time," said the young woman seriously, "and, old Ike is my father, you know..." She was suddenly shy, or so Ellery thought, because her eyelashes It suddenly dropped to cover her eyes. "I know, Miss Axel," said Ellery, "I totally get it now. Because Professor Axel—er—tricked me into giving this course, and because you're Professor Axel's daughter, you To think you could just squeeze into my clique. Nonsensical reasoning," Ellery said, striking the ground with his cane. "I don't think you can. No."

She kicked his cane away suddenly with her foot, causing him to shake for a while to avoid falling: "Don't be so proud, Mr. Quinn...Here! Everyone is waiting for you. Shall we go in right now. Mr. Quinn! Really What a nice name." "but--" "Ike's got it sorted, bless him." "I never agree to—" "Everybody gets what he wants. I've got my BA and I'm doing my MA. I'm really smart. Oh, come on—don't be so clingy. You're such a nice young man, and With your lovely silver eyes—” "Er, well," Ellery said, feeling suddenly satisfied with himself, "let's go in together."

It was a small seminar room with a long table flanked by chairs.The two young men rose to their feet, respectful, Ellery thought.They were somewhat surprised but not dismayed at the sight of Miss Exo, who was evidently a well-known figure in the place.One of them stepped forward and took Ellery's hand. "Mr. Quinn! I'm Paul, John Paul. Thank you for picking me and Cohn out of so many applicants." He was a fine young man with bright eyes and a thin, intelligent face. , Ellery secretly concluded. "I mean, it's your advisor and your grades that should be thanked, Paul—then you must be Walter Cohn, right?"

The second young man shook Ellery's hand politely, as if in ceremony.He is tall and burly, and he looks very studious and pleasing to the eye: "I am, sir. I major in chemistry. I am really very interested in what you and the professor want to do." "Great. Miss Axel—quite a surprise—is the fourth member of our group," Ellery said. "Quite a surprise! Let's sit down and discuss it." Cohen and Paul sat down quickly, and the lady sat down slowly and demurely.Ellery flung his hat and cane into a corner, folded his hands on the table, stared at the ceiling—someone had to start...

"This seems to be nonsense, but it does have some grounds. Professor Ikeso came to me with an idea not long ago. He heard about my achievements in finding criminals by purely analytical methods. He thought that maybe with the help of young The deduction ability of college students can develop a detective school. I was also a college student, so I am not so sure." "Our generation is smarter," said Miss Exo. "Well, that remains to be seen," said Ellery dryly. "I suppose it might be against the rules, but I can't think without smoking. You can smoke too, gentlemen. Would you like a cigarette, Eco Miss Suo?"

She took the cigarette absently, took the match herself, and looked Ellery straight in the eye. "On-site work, of course?" Cohn asked. "Exactly." Ellery stood up. "Miss Axl, take note—if we're going to do it, we're going to do it well—well. We're going to study crime from the news of the day." —Criminal incidents, of course, throw themselves upon our unique method of investigation. We proceed in a stripped-down manner, without any preconceived notions, understand? You follow my instructions, and we see Let's see what happens." Paul's eager face lit up. "Theory? I mean—don't you give us some principles of attack first—class lecture?"

"Fuck his principles. Mind you, Miss Axl... the only way to learn to swim, Paul, is to jump into the water. There are sixty-three applicants for the course. I only want two or three, too. How much it bothers me, how many people talk, you know. I choose you, Cohn, because you seem to have a pretty good analytical mind, and your scientific training has sharpened your powers of observation. Paul, you have Very good academic background, and, obviously, a top student."—both young men blushed—"As for you, Miss Axel," Ellery continued sternly, "it is you You were chosen, so you have to pay the consequences. No matter if it's old Ike or whoever, you're ready to back out at the first foolish move."

"Sir, Axel is by no means a fool." "I really hope not. Well, without further ado. An hour ago, just as I was leaving for the school, a message came over the Police Headquarters radio. Quite by chance, but we should be thankful. Murder in the Theater District The victim's name was Spark. From what I've heard, it's a very strange case. I've asked my father, Officer Quinn, to help us hold the scene. We're going now." "Brilliant!" exclaimed Paul. "Going to learn about crime! It's going to be great. Shall we have any trouble getting in, Mr. Ellery?" "Not at all. I've got a special police pass for every gentleman, like mine. I'll get you one later, Miss Axel. I'm going to warn you, never from Take anything from the crime scene, at least with my permission. And no matter what the circumstances, you are not allowed to answer reporters' questions." "A murder case," Miss Exo said thoughtfully, her spirits weakened quite a bit. "Aha! Already discouraged. This case is a touchstone for each of you. I want to see how your brains work when it comes to a real case. Miss Axel, do you still have hats or hats?" What else?" "gentlemen?" "Costume, costume! You can't go to a crime scene dressed like this!" "Oh!" she murmured, blushing, "couldn't tracksuits be unprofessional for a murder scene?" Ellery glared, and she added sweetly, "It's in my locker downstairs, Quinn. It won't be long, sir." Ellery put his hat on his head carelessly: "I'll meet you three in front of the Arts Building in five minutes. Five minutes, Miss Exo!" Retrieving his cane, he looked up like a professor. Stride out of the seminar room.He took deep breaths all the way from the elevator, the grand hallway, to the marble stairs outside.Not an ordinary day.He looked at the campus, what an unusual day. The Fenwick Hotel is only a few hundred meters from Times Square.Its halls were packed with policemen, detectives, journalists and, of course, tourists.Officer Quinn's right-hand man, the mountain-like Officer Willie, stood by the door to prevent curious people from entering.Beside him stood a tall, sad-faced man in a blue denim serge suit, white linen shirt, and black tie. "Mr. Williams, the hotel manager," said the officer. Williams shakes hands with Ellery: "I don't understand. It's horrible. Are you from the police?" Ellery nodded.Williams' entourage surrounded him like royal guards—cowardly guards indeed, for they were so close to him that they seemed to seek protection.There is an ominous atmosphere.Although all the hotel staff and service staff wear the same attire—gray suits, ties, and shirts—they have affected expressions, as if they were service personnel on a sunken ship. "No one came in or out, Mr. Quinn," said Constable Willie. "Officer Quin's order. You were the first to arrive when the body was found. Are these people all right?" "Yes. Is my dad there?" "On the third floor, Room 317. It's mostly calm now." Ellery held up his cane. "Come on, young man. Don't—" he said gently, "don't be so nervous. You'll get used to this kind of thing. Heads up." They nodded in unison, their eyes a little dull.As they rode up the police-staffed elevator, Ellery spotted Miss Axel trying to look professional—she was, of course, the Axel family.This should calm her down a bit.They walked down the corridor to an open door.Sergeant Quinn, watching the scene sharply, heard Ellery coming and greeted them at the door. Ellery was amused to see Miss Axl nearly breathless with fright after only one glance at the mortuary room.He suppressed a laugh and introduced them to Officer Quinn, then closed the door and looked around the bedroom. The body was lying on the drab carpet, with its hands stretched forward like a diver.His head looked odd: someone had knocked over a bucket of sticky red paint on him, matted his brown hair and sprayed it over his shoulders.Miss Akoso let out a slight gurgling sound, which of course could not have been a compliment.Ellery watched with morbid satisfaction as she clenched her little hands, whiter than the sheet next to the body.Cohn and Paul gasped. "Miss Axel, Mr. Cohn, Mr. Paul—your first body," said Ellery quickly, "and now, Dad, to work. What's going on?" Constable Quinn sighed, "This man is Oliver Spark, forty-two years old. He separated from his wife two years ago. He was on tour for a large dry goods exporter and returned after a year in South Africa. He was notorious among the natives of the remote tribes - he whipped them, he cheated them. In fact, he was deported from British Africa because of some scandal. He checked in here for three days in Fenwick, Same floor, and checked out to Chicago to visit relatives." Officer Quinn muttered, as if the killing of such a person was self-inflicted, "He flew back to New York this morning. 11:30 was found dead, as it is now, by a Negro maid on this floor named Agatha Robbins." "Premeditated murder?" The old man shrugged and said, "Maybe, maybe not. We checked him out. Judging from the reports, he is a rather troublesome guy, but very sophisticated. Obviously he has no enemies; his activities after the ship docked are innocent. And reliable. He's a destroyer. He ditched his wife for a beautiful blonde girl before he went to sea last time. After months of messing with her, he left in a hurry and didn't take her with him. We now have The two women can consider it." "A suspect?" Officer Quinn looked at the deceased thoughtfully: "Well, you choose. He had a visitor this morning, the blonde I mentioned earlier, whose name was Jane Terri, who seemed to have no occupation. Ah! She Must have read in the papers that Spark's boat arrived two weeks ago; she's been tracking him, and when Spark was in Chicago a week ago, she called downstairs to ask where he was. She learned he'd be back this morning , because he left a message. She came here at 11:50 this morning and asked for his room number, which was brought up by the elevator boy. No one remembered her leaving. But she said she knocked on the door and There was no response, so she left and never came back. According to her statement, she did not see him." Carefully avoiding the body, Miss Akoso sat down on the edge of the bed, then opened the bag and began dusting her nose. "And what about her wife, Officer Quinn?" she murmured.There was a gleam in her deep brown eyes.Miss Axl evidently had something on her mind and tried her best not to show it. "His wife?" Officer Quinn snorted. "God knows. As I said, she and Spark are separated. She said she didn't know that Spark came back from Africa, and she was shopping this morning." It was a nondescript hotel room, with a bed, a wardrobe, a wardrobe, a bedside table, a writing desk and a chair, a fake fireplace and gas pipes, a door leading to the bathroom— Nothing else. Ellery knelt beside the body, and Cohn and Paul followed him grimly.Sergeant Quinn sat watching them with a nonchalant smile on his face.Ellery turned the body over and used his hands to explore the anatomy stiffened by death. "Cohen, Paul, Miss Exel," he said sharply, "you can begin now. Tell me what you see. You go first, Miss Exel." She jumped out of bed and looked around the body, feeling the hot, unsteady breath of her breath on the back of his neck. "How? How? Didn't you see anything? Jesus, I think there's enough to see here." Miss Axel licked her lips, and then said in a low voice, "He—he wore a house gown, carpet slippers, and—yes, silk underwear." "Yes, and black stockings and garters, and gowns and underwear marked: Johnson & Johnson, Johannesburg, American Africa. What else?" "He has a wrist watch on his left hand. I was thinking—" She leaned forward, touching the dead man's arm with her fingertips, "Yes, the watch glass is broken. Why, it stopped at ten twenty Minute!" "Very well," said Ellery in a soft voice, "Did Dr. Pluti examine the body?" "Yes," said Sergeant Quinn in a resigned voice, "the doctor said Spark died between eleven and eleven-thirty. I think—" Miss Akerso's eyes lit up: "Doesn't this mean—" "Wait, wait, Miss Axel, if you have any thoughts, please don't say them, don't rush to conclusions, you've said enough. How about it, Cohen?" The young chemist raised his eyebrows.He pointed to the watch, a very ordinary watch body with a leather strap: "It's a male watch. The impact of the fall stopped it. The second hole of the leather strap has a crease, which is now buckled. hole, but there is a deeper crease in the third hole." "Great, Cohen. What else?" "The left hand was stained with a lot of splashed blood. There were also some traces on the left palm, but it was relatively faint. It seemed that he had used his bloody hand to grab something and wiped off most of the blood. There should be Something with bloody fingerprints on it..." "Cohn, I'm so proud of you. Didn't find anything bloody, Dad?" Sergeant Quinn looked at them with interest. "Well done, young man. No, Ellery, nothing. Not even a little spot on the carpet. Must have been taken by the murderer." "Hey, officer," Ellery chuckled, "this isn't your test. Paul, what else can you add?" Young Paul swallowed quickly: "The head injury shows he's been hit multiple times with something heavy. The uneven carpet may indicate a struggle. And his face—" "Hey! You noticed his face, how? What's the matter with his face?" "Just shaved. The talcum powder is still on the cheeks and chin. Don't you think we should check the bathroom, Mr. Quinn?" "I noticed that too, but you didn't give me a chance. The powder goes on very smoothly, doesn't it? No streaks, no lumps." Ellery jumped to his feet. "You're going to be Sherlock Holmes. Where's the murder weapon, Dad?" "A heavy stone hammer, rough and, according to our experts, an African antique. Spark must have carried it in the bag—his trunk has not yet arrived from Chicago." Ellery nodded.An open pigskin duffel bag was spread out on the bed, and next to it was neatly arranged a night outfit: tuxedo, trousers, vest, shirt, shirt buttons and cufflinks, a clean collar, Black suspenders, a white silk handkerchief.Under the bed were two pairs of black shoes, one of rawhide and the other of patent leather.Ellery looked around, and something disturbed him.On the chair next to the bed lay a dirty shirt, a pair of dirty socks, and a set of dirty underwear.There was no blood everywhere.He paused to think. "We took the hammer away. It was covered in blood and hair," Constable Quinn continued, "and there were no fingerprints anywhere. You can touch anything you want—everything has been photographed and fingerprinted. " Ellery tapped a cigarette.He noticed Paul and Cohen crouching over the dead man studying the watch.He walked over, and Miss Exo stood at the feet of the dead man. Paul's bony face glowed as he looked up. "Here's something!" He carefully unfastened Spark's watch and pried off the case back.Ellery saw a round, fluffy piece of paper stuck to the inside of the case, as if something had been ripped off unsuccessfully.Paul jumped up, "That gave me an idea," he announced, "Yes, sir." He stared intently at the dead man's face. "What about you, Cohen?" Ellery asked with interest.The young chemist took a small magnifying glass from his pocket and examined the watch carefully. Cohen stood up: "I'm not going to say it now," he muttered, "Mr. Quinn, please allow me to bring this watch to my laboratory." Ellery looked at his father, who nodded. "Of course, Cohn. But it must be returned..." "Dad, have you searched the room thoroughly, the fireplace and all?" Constable Quinn laughed suddenly: "I was wondering when you'd ask that. There's a very interesting thing in that fireplace." He dropped his face and rather rudely produced a snuffbox , took some powder and put it into his nose, "Although I don't understand what that means at all." Ellery stared at the fireplace, his drooping shoulders shrugged, as the others gathered around him.He stared again, then knelt down.Behind the artificial gas pipe, a small grate held a pile of ashes.It was strange ashes, not wood, coal, or paper.Ellery poked the ashes away and sniffed.In a short while he was digging ten strange objects from the ashes: eight flat pearl buttons and two metal objects, one triangular like an eye and the other like a hook—both small , are made of cheap alloys.Two of the eight buttons are larger.These buttons have corrugations and four stitch holes in the center depression.All ten of these items were charred and blackened. "What's your explanation for that?" Officer Quinn asked. Ellery played with the buttons thoughtfully.Instead of answering directly, he said to the three students in a stern voice, "You should think about this. Dad, when was the last time you cleaned this fireplace?" "It was cleaned early this morning by Agatha Robbins, the mulatto maid. The room was checked out at seven this morning and she cleaned it before Spark came in. She said the fireplace was clean this morning .” Ellery dropped buttons and metal objects on the bedside table and went to the bed.He examined the open duffel bag, which was cluttered with three ties, two clean shirts, socks, underwear, and a handkerchief.All of the clothing is marked with the same logo - Johnson & Johnson, Johannesburg, American Africa.He seemed satisfied, and went to the wardrobe.It contained only a tweed safari coat, a brown blouse, and a felt hat. Satisfied, he slammed the door: "Did you all see clearly?" He asked the two young men and the girl. Cohen and Paul nodded skeptically, and Miss Exo listened, as if, from the rapt expression on her face, she was listening. "Miss Axel!" Miss Axl smiled dreamily. "Yes, Mr. Quinn." Her voice was soft and submissive.Her brown eyes began to drift. Ellery grunted and strode to the closet.It has nothing on top.He opened all the drawers and they were all empty.He was about to look at the writing desk when Officer Quinn said, "There's nothing there, son. He hasn't had a chance to put anything in there yet. You've seen everything except the bathroom." As if waiting for the signal, Miss Axl rushed to the bathroom.She seemed eager to explore the bathroom, and Cohen and Paul hurried after her. Ellery told them to check first.Miss Akoso's hand brushed over everything that lay on the side of the washbasin.There is a pigskin toiletry bag that has been opened, and the things are scattered on the marble board. There is a razor that has not been cleaned, a shaving brush that still looks damp, a tube of shaving cream, and a small jar of talcum powder. and a tube of toothpaste.On the other side was a celluloid shaving brush case with the lid on the toiletry bag. "There's nothing interesting here," Paul said honestly. "What about you, Walter?" Cohen shook his head: "It's just that he must have been murdered right after his face was shaved, it's not worth mentioning." Miss Axel's expression was serious with a slight ecstasy: "That's because, like all men, you are blind bats. I see a lot of things." They passed Ellery and rejoined Officer Quinn, who was talking to someone in the bedroom.Ellery chuckled lowly.He lifted the lid of the clothes basket, which was empty.Then he picked up the lid of the shaving brush box, and the lid came off the box, and he saw a small round powder brush inside.He laughed again, and looked mockingly at the back of Miss Ikeso's victory outside the door, put the lid back on, and went back to the bedroom. He finds Williams, the restaurant manager, accompanied by a constable, talking eagerly to Sergeant Quinn. "We can't go on like this, Officer Quinn," Williams said. "Our guests are starting to complain. The night shift is about to start, and I should be home, and you've got us up all night. Here. After all—" Sergeant Quinn said, "Shh!" and asked his son with a wink, to which Ellery nodded, "Can't see any reason why it can't be lifted, Dad. We've got as much as we can. You three young men!" Three Two eager eyes stared at him, they were like three puppies on the same leash, "Have you seen enough?" They nodded solemnly, "Is there anything else you want to know?" Paul said quickly, "I need an address." Miss Axel's face was pale: "Hey, I want it too! John, you are too much!" Cohen muttered, clutching Spark's watch in his fist: "I need something too, but I can find it in this restaurant." Ellery smiled, shrugged, and said, "Go downstairs and find Officer Willie, the giant we met at the door. He'll tell you anything you need to know." "Now, follow instructions. Obviously all three of you have your own ideas. I'll give you two hours to organize and investigate whatever comes to your mind." He glanced at his watch. Come to the apartment on West Eighty-seventh Street and I'll tear your theories apart. Happy hunting!" He smiled and dismissed.Everyone hurried to the door. Miss Akoso's cap was a little askew, but her hands were busy clearing the way. "Now," Ellery said in a completely different voice when they were all gone, "come over here, Dad, and I want to talk to you alone." Mr. Ellery Queen was sitting at his table at six-thirty that night, watching three young faces trying to suppress their emotions.Dinner, barely touched, was laid out on the tablecloth. During the time between the dismissal and her appearance at Quinn's apartment, Miss Axel managed to change her clothes.She now wears lace-trimmed dresses in pastel shades, which she clearly knows will flatter her pale throat, brown eyes, and pink cheeks.Young men play with their coffee cups. "Now, students," Ellery chuckled, "it's time to recite." Their eyes lit up, and they sat upright and moistened their lips. "Each of you has two hours to tidy up." The results of the first survey. Regardless of the outcome, I will not grade it because I have not taught you anything at this point. But after this conversation is over, I will have an idea of ​​​​what the people I work with I can bear it." "Yes, sir," said Miss Exo. "John - we'd better get out of the way, what's your theory?" Paul said slowly, "I have more than a theory, Mr. Quinn, I have an answer!" "An answer, John. Don't get too confident. So," Ellery said, "what's your answer?" Paul took a deep breath. "The clue I'm basing my answer on is Spark's watch." Cohen and the girl jumped.Ellery lit a cigarette and said encouragingly, "Go on." "The two creases on the strap," Paul replied, "are important. Sparky wore that watch on the second hole, so there's a crease on the second hole. But in There is a deeper crease in the third hole. Conclusion: This watch was worn by a person with smaller wrists. In other words, this watch is not Spark's!" "Very well," said Ellery softly, "very well." "Then why would Spark wear someone else's watch? There must be a very good reason, I believe. The doctor said that Spark died between eleven and eleven-thirty, but the hands of the watch stopped. At ten-twenty. How to explain the difference? The murderer, noticing that Spark was not wearing a watch, took her own watch, smashed the glass, set the hands to ten-twenty, and put it on Spark's On the wrist. This would allow the death to be timed at 10:20 and give the killer an opportunity to provide an alibi, but the murder actually happened around 11:20. What do you think?" Miss Axl said sharply: "You say 'she,' but it's a man's watch, John—you forget that." Paul smiled: "A woman can own a man's watch, can't she? But whose watch is it? Simple. There's a round fluffy piece of paper on the back of the case, as if something has been torn off. Usually What kind of paper was taped behind the watch? A photo. Why was it taken? Obviously, because the murderer's face was in that photo. I've been following this lead for the past two hours. I visited the suspect posing as a reporter and managed to see her photo album. In it I found a picture with a circle cut out. From the rest of the picture it was clear that the cutout was of a man and a woman. Head. My case is now satisfactorily closed." "It's amazing," Ellery said softly. "Your female killer is—" "Mrs. Spark! Motives—hate or anger, or broken love, or something like that." Miss Exo snorted, and Cohen shook his head. "Well," said Ellery, "there's a difference of opinion. Anyway, it's an interesting analysis. What about yours, Walter Cohn?" Cohen shrugged his broad shoulders: "I also agree that the watch did not belong to Spark, and that the murderer set the hands at 10:20 to create an alibi. But I disagree with the identification of the criminal. I also regard this It is only shown as the main clue, but the direction is very different." "Look here." He took the watch out and slapped its broken surface carefully, "here's something you should all know. Watches, shall we say, breathe too. When they come into contact with warm skin they make it The air inside expands and then passes out through the small pores in the case and face. If the watch is left alone, the air cools and contracts, and dusty air can escape inside." "I always say I should go to science," Ellery said. "That's a new way, Walter, go on." "Specifically, flour dust can be found in a baker's watch, and brick dust can accumulate in a bricklayer's watch." Cohn's voice rose triumphantly, "You know what I found in this watch ? Particles of women's powder." Miss Exo frowned. Cohen continued in a deep voice: "And it is a very special powder, Mr. Quinn. It is only used by women of a certain skin color. What skin color? Black brown! This powder comes from a black and white Half-breed woman's purse. I questioned her and checked her little dressing-case, and although she denied it, I think it was Agatha Robbins who killed Spark, the half-blood maid who 'discovered' the body!" Ellery whistled softly: "Very well, Walter, very well. Of course, from your point of view, she must deny owning the watch. That clears up some doubts for me. But motive? " Cohen looks disturbed: "Ugh, I know it sounds crazy, but there's a voodoo revenge--reversion to racial forms--Spark is inhumane to Native Africans, and the papers are reporting..." Ellery closed his eyes to hide the blink.Then he turned to Miss Exo, who was nervously tapping her glass and tossing and turning in her chair, looking impatient to wait. "Now," he said, "it's the star's turn. What have you brought us, Miss Axel? You've been in theory all afternoon, and now you can come out." She pursed her lips: "You guys think you're smart. You too, Mr. Quinn—you especially. Well, I admit that both John and Walter have some superficial intelligence..." "Could you please clarify, Miss Axel?" She shook her head and said, "Okay. That watch has absolutely nothing to do with the case!" The boys gaped, and Ellery clapped his hands lightly. "Very good. I agree. But please explain." Her brown eyes glowed, and her cheeks were even more pink. "Easy!" she sniffed. "Spark was killed two hours after he came here from Chicago. He was in Chicago for a week and a half. He lived in Chicago time for a week and a half, and because Chicago time is faster than New York time An hour late, and no one turned the hands back, so he fell dead at ten twenty, because he forgot to turn his watch when he arrived in New York this morning!" 柯恩在喉咙中咕哝着什么，保罗的脸则转为深红，埃勒里看起来很哀伤：“到目前为止，恐怕桂冠要颁给艾柯索小姐，男士们，那完全正确。还有吗？” “当然。我还知道凶手既不是史帕克的太太也不是那黑白混血的女侍，”她气冲冲地说，“听我说。喔！这那么简单！我们都看到史帕克脸上的粉上得非常平顺。从他的脸颊和浴室中的修脸用品来看，很明显他在被害前才刚修过脸。但一个男人修过脸后是怎么扑粉的？你是怎么扑粉的，奎因先生？”她温柔地把矛头对着他。 埃勒里看起来很震惊：“当然是用我的手指头。” 柯恩和保罗埃点点头。 “就是这样！”艾柯索小姐开怀低笑，“然后会怎么样呢？我知道，因为我是一个观察入微的人，而且老艾克每天早上都修面，他每天吻我道早安时我无法不注意到。在脸颊还潮湿时用手指头扑粉，粉会变成条状，脏脏的，而且某些地方会比较厚。但看看我的脸！”他们看着她，脸上表情却各有不同，“你们看不到我的脸上有条状的粉末，对不对？当然没有！为什么？因为我是女人，而女人会用粉擦，但史帕克的卧室和浴室中却找不到一个粉擦！” 埃勒里微笑了——几乎是解脱了：“所以你是说，艾柯索小姐，最后跟史帕克在一起的人是个女人，或许就是害他的女杀手，她看着他修脸，然后或许是基于亲密关系，拿出她自己的粉擦帮他扑粉，过几分钟再用石制的榔头猛敲他的头？” “呃——是的，虽然我不是那样想到的。但，是的！而且心理学也指向了特定的女人，奎因先生。一个男人的妻子绝不会想到这种多情的方式。但一个男人的情妇就会，史帕克的情人珍·特芮就会。我一个小时前才拜访过她，她当然也否认曾为史帕克扑粉，但我认为是她杀了他。” 埃勒里叹息。他站起来把他的香烟屁股塞进火炉里。大家都看着他，也看着彼此，满怀期待。 “我得赞美你，”他启口道，“艾柯索小姐，除了你对情妇的了解这部分之外。”——她发出一个很突兀的喘息声——“在我继续之前，我要先说明这个。你们三人都很正直，很机警，我感受到的欣慰还胜过我言辞所能表达的。我深信我们会有精彩可期的课程。干得好，你们大家！” “但奎因先生，”保罗抗议，“我们之间谁是对的呢？我们每个人都有不同解答。” 埃勒里挥挥手：“对的？不过是个理论的细枝末节罢了。重点是你们做得很好——敏锐的观察，基本上把因果关系连接起来。但就这个案件本身，我很遗憾地说——你们都错了。” 艾柯索小姐握紧她的小拳头：“我就知道你会这样说！我觉得你很可恶，而且我还是认为我是对的。” “这个，男士们，就是女性心理学的特例，”埃勒里笑着说，“现在，大家注意。你们都错了，因为你们每一个人都只追踪一条线，一个线索，一组推理，而完全忽略了事件的其他因素。你，约翰，说是史帕克的太太，纯粹只因为她的照相簿中少了一张有两个人头的圆形相片。而那却可能是你本身没碰过的巧合情况罢了。 “你，华特，当你圆满地推断出手表属于混血女侍时，已经比较接近事实。但如果是史帕克第一次来的时候，罗宾斯小姐不小心把表掉在史帕克的房间内，史帕克发现了表，并把它戴到芝加哥去呢？这也有可能会发生啊？不能只因为戴着她的表，就说她是害他的女凶手。 “你，艾柯索小姐，借由时差因素摒除了手表在这案子中的关系，但你也忽略了一点。你的整个答案奠基于史帕克的房间内是否有粉擦。你选择相信犯罪现场内没有粉擦，因为那才能配合你的理论，你草率地搜索之后就遽下结论，说那里没有粉擦。但那里确实有粉擦！如果你检查过史帕克放修面毛刷的赛璐珞盒，你就会发现盥洗用具制造商为男士旅游包所准备的一块圆形的粉擦。” 艾柯索小姐什么都没说，她似乎真的很尴尬。 “现在来说正确的答案，”埃勒里说道，仁慈地看着远处，“很令人惊讶，你们三个人都假设罪犯是女人，但当我检视过现场之后，对我来说，显而易见，凶手一定是个男人。” “男人！”他们异口同声地说道。 “正是。为什么你们没有一个人考虑到那八个纽扣和两件金属物品的重要性呢？”他微笑道，“也许这也是因为它们并不配合你们的理论。但在一个真正的解答中每一件事物都是合理的。说教够了，下一次你们会做得更好。 “六个小型的珍珠纽扣，扁平的，还有两个比较大的，被发现在一堆既不是木头、煤炭又不是纸张的灰屑中。只有一种普通的东西会拥有这些特性——一件男性的衬衫。一件男性衬衫，前面有六颗扣子，两颗袖扣比较大，碎屑则是亚麻布或是黑呢。有人在壁炉内烧了一件男性的衬衫，却忘了纽扣是烧不掉的。 “金属物品，像是个钩子和钩孔？衬衫可以引到男饰店，钩子和钩孔却只代表一个东西！一种廉价的领结，买来时就已经打好了，这样你就不需要自己打领结了。” 他们看着他的嘴唇，就好象是幼儿园的学生一样：“你，柯恩，注意到史帕克的左手曾经抓过东西，所以手掌上的血大部分都擦掉了，但没有发现任何沾了血迹的东西……一件男性的衬衫和领结被烧掉了……推论是史帕克头部遭到重击鲜血直冒，在与凶手的打斗中，史帕克抓住凶手的衣领和领结，让凶手的衣服和领结沾了血。别忘了房间内有打斗的痕迹。 “史帕克死了，凶手的衣领和领带沾满了血，他会怎么办？让我们这样想想，凶手一定是下列三种人之一：一个局外人，或是饭店内的房客，或是饭店内的员工。他做了什么呢？他烧了他的衬衫和领结。但如果他是一个局外人，他可以翻起外套衣领遮掩血迹并离开饭店，不需要在时间紧迫之际焚烧衬衫和领结。如果是饭店内的房客也一样，他可以回到自己的房间去。所以他一定是饭店内的员工。 “同意吗？是的。身为员工，在值班的时间内一定要留在饭店内，随时会被看到。他该怎么办？嗯，他必须要换掉他的衬衫和领结。史帕克的袋子是打开的——里面有衬衫。他翻遍了而后更换了，你们都看到袋子里一片混乱。衬衫留下来吗？不行，那可能会追查到他。所以说，各位先生小姐，焚烧是不可避免的…… “领结呢？你们记不记得，史帕克把他的晚间外出服摆在床上时，袋子里、房间里到处都没有领结。那么，很明显，凶手拿走了无尾晚礼服的领结，然后把他自己的领结和衬衫一并烧掉了。” 艾柯索小姐叹息，柯恩和保罗有一点茫然地摇着头。 “我知道，凶手是饭店的员工，是个男的，而且他穿着史帕克的衬衫，戴着黑色或白色的领结，可能是黑色的。但所有饭店的员工都穿着灰色衬衫，打灰色领带，就如我们在芬维克进口处所观察到的。只除了——”埃勒里深深地吸了一口香烟，“——除了一个人。当然你们也许注意到他衣着上的不同？……所以，当你们分别离去之后，我建议我父亲应该查问这个人——他的嫌疑最大。我们在他的衬衫和领结上都发现约翰内斯堡的标签，如同史帕克其他服饰上的一样。这个物证已经足够，因为史帕克在南非待了一年，而且他大部分的衣饰都是在那里买的，所以被偷的衬衫和领结也应该是在那里买的。” “所以这个案子在我们才开始进行时就已经结束了。”柯恩悲伤地说。 埃勒里吐出一大团烟雾：“我们只花了三分钟就使他认罪了。史帕克在几年前抢了这个人的妻子，然后又拋弃了她。当史帕克于两周前住进芬维克吋，这个人认出了他，并决定要报仇。他现在已经是死路一条了——就是威廉斯，饭店经理！” 一阵短暂的静默。保罗前后摇着他的头：“我们还有好多东西要学，”他说道，“我看得出来。” “没错，”柯恩低声说道，“我一定会喜欢这堂课的。” 埃勒里随意敷衍了两句。然后，他转向艾柯索小姐，照理说她应该也会说些感动赞美的话，但是艾柯索小姐的思绪却飘得很远。 “你知道吗，”她说着，棕色眼眸迷蒙，“你从来没有问过我的名字呢，奎因先生？”