Chapter 4 Chapter Four

McGarry had just finished shaving and was cleaning the razor when someone knocked on the door.It is nine o'clock in the morning.He woke up at eight o'clock, but he stayed in bed for a long time, which was not often for him.He gazed at the sunlight slanting into the house, and listened to the sounds of the street. "Come in!" he yelled. He took a sip of the cold coffee that was stagnant in the bottom of the cup. Philip walked hesitantly into the room and finally came to the dressing room. "Good morning, lad." "Good morning, Uncle." As soon as he heard his nephew's tone, McGregor knew something was wrong.He buttoned up his shirt, looked up at his nephew, and saw that the young man's eyelids were red and his nose was swollen, like a child who just cried.

"What happened?" "They're going to arrest me!" Philip said this in a tone and manner which seemed to say to his uncle: "They're going to shoot me in five minutes." McGregor spread out a newspaper, while putting on his clothes, he shifted his gaze to the newspaper: "Despite plainclothes policeman Philip Lowe denying the charges against him, examining magistrate Garstenbeet has decided to review his arrest from this morning." "The Exquisite has my picture on the front page," Philip added despondently. McGarry said nothing and had nothing to say.He let the braces drag on his thighs, and wore slippers on his bare feet. He first looked for a pipe in the sun and picked it up.Then I looked for shredded tobacco, and finally I looked for matchboxes.

"You didn't go to the General Administration this morning, did you?" "I'm from the Rue Dame. I read this while having coffee and a croissant in the Rue Batignol." This is the only morning left.The air was fresh and the sun was shining brightly. The crowds on the streets of Paris were tense and brisk like a joyful ballet.McGarry opened the window halfway, and the noise from the embankment filled the room.The water of the Seine flows slowly into the distance under the twinkling sunlight. "Well, then, I must go for a walk, my boy! What can I say?" He was still reluctant to show mercy to the boy who had come to work in the Judiciary, far from his native Vosges valleys!

"Of course, you don't want to be pampered like that at home!" It goes without saying that the child's mother was Mrs McGregor's sister.His home is not like a home, it is just a warm box for hatching chicks: "Philip is coming home soon...Philip must be hungry...Have Philip's shirts been ironed?..." There are also delicacies and cream pastries specially made for him, and liqueurs brewed at home, and lavender essence has long been placed in his wardrobe. "One more thing," said Philip, while his uncle was pulling the stiff collar up to the middle of his neck, "I went to Floria last night."

"Of course!" "Why of course?" "Because I told you not to go. What stupid thing have you done?" "I didn't do anything! I chatted with the girl for a while, that's Fernand, you know. She revealed to me that she was working with you to finish a piece at the tobacco shop on the corner of the Rue Douai." Don't know what mission. When I walked out of the bar, I followed her naturally, because it was the only way I had to go. However, when she left the smoking hotel, she was reprimanded by the plainclothes police who managed the demeanor and was Into the prison wagon."

"You're going to interfere, I bet!" Philip hung his head. "What were they saying to you?" "They said they were on a mission." "Now you go," sighed McGregor, who was looking for a tie, "don't worry." He put his hands on his nephew's shoulders, kissed him on both cheeks, and hurriedly pretended to be very busy so as not to show his emotion too much.After the nephew left, the door was closed again, and he raised his head and muttered some vague sentences. As soon as he set foot on the Embankment, the first thing he did was to buy a copy of "Beautiful News" in the book kiosk.He saw that Philip's photo was indeed published on the first page, and he added a note below:

This is Philip Lowe, the plainclothes policeman accused of shooting Pepido Palestrino, who he was watching. McGarry walked slowly on the new bridge.Last night, he did not go to Floria's bar, but went around Caro's residence in Rue Batignol.It was a rental income house, like most of the houses in the street, about fifty years old.Hallways and stairs are poorly lit.The suite inside was plainly gloomy and gloomy, with dirty curtains on the windows and faded velvet cushions on the chairs. Karuo's suite is on the second floor.Surely no one was in there then.McGarry strutted into the house like a frequent visitor, ascended the fifth floor, and returned.

The door of the "notary" had a safety lock, otherwise the sheriff would probably have gone in to see it.As he passed the porter, the woman at the door pressed her face against the glass and studied him carefully. What's the use of coming all the way here?McGarry put his hands in his pockets and walked aimlessly on the street, almost across the whole of Paris.As he walked, he tossed over his thoughts over and over again. Somewhere, either in the Fontaine Hotel or elsewhere, there is a hidden group of dubious people who carry out all kinds of illegal activities with impunity.Pepido was one of them, and so was Barnabe.

And Ka Ruo is the general leader of this group, and he is killing them, or instigating them to kill each other one by one. This is a common practice, to kill people and silence them to prevent future troubles!The police would almost have taken up the case if it hadn't been for the foolishness of Philip. McGarry came to Police Headquarters.He was greeted by two plainclothes men who came out, making no secret of their surprise.He stepped into the porch, across the courtyard, past the police brigade that was in charge of the apartment housing and the hotel. Reports are being heard on the third floor.In the spacious corridor, fifty police officers were discussing loudly in groups, exchanging information and cards with each other.From time to time the door of an office was opened, a name was called, and the person called went in immediately to be told.

When McGregor appeared, there was a sudden silence in the corridor, and people's faces immediately darkened.But he walked through the groups with a calm demeanor. In order to cover up their embarrassment, the plainclothes immediately resumed their discussion. On the right side of the corridor, the door of the director's reception room furnished with a red velvet sofa was open.There was only one visitor waiting in a corner: Philip.He rested his chin on his hand and stared straight ahead. McGarry immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction, walked to the end of the passage, and knocked a few times on the last door.

"Come in!" someone agreed from inside. Everyone watched as he put on his top hat and walked into Sheriff Amadillo's office. "Hello, McGregor." "Hello, Amadillo." The two of them held out their hands to each other as they did every morning when they met, and they shook hands when they touched their fingers.Amadeo signaled a plainclothes present to step down, and then said in a low voice: "You want to talk to me?" With very skillful movements, McGregor jumped to sit on the edge of the desk, picked up the match on the desk, and lit the pipe. His colleague had just moved the armchair back a bit and leaned back against the back of the chair. "How about in the country?" "Thank you. So, where?" "Still the same. I have to see the boss in five minutes." McGregor pretended not to understand what he meant, and deliberately unbuttoned his coat slowly.He felt at home here because he had used this office for ten years. "Are you troubled by your nephew?" Amadillo, restless, attacked first. "To tell you the truth, I am more troubled than you. I have been severely criticized for this matter. You You know? It's got to the top of the story. The minister himself gave the boss a slap in the face and I can't speak now. The case is under the sole responsibility of the examining magistrate. I think Garstenbitt was already in your time. Do you work here?" The phone rang.Amadeo held the receiver to his ear and said in a low voice: "... yes, Mr. Commissioner... yes, Mr. Commissioner... in a few minutes... I happen to have someone here... yes... all right." McGregor knew what the conversation was about.At the other end of the aisle, Philip was ushered into the Director's office. "Do you have anything to ask me?" said Amadeo, rising to his feet. "You heard me, the boss told me to go to him." "Two or three small questions. First, does Caro know that Pepido is going to be arrested?" "I don't know. Besides, I don't see the importance of it." "I'm sorry. I know Caro, I know what he does in the General Administration, and I know that sometimes you don't keep secrets like this. Was he here two or three days before this case happened?" "Let me think about it. Yes, he was here. I remember . . . " "Another question: do you know the address of Joseph Odia? The café waiter who happened to bump into Philippe sooner or later as he passed the Rue Fontaine." "He sleeps at night in the hotel in Rue Lepic, if I remember correctly." "Have you seriously verified that Ka Ruo is not there?" Amadeo put on a smile. "Listen, McGregor, I know this business!" However, this is not the end.McGarry found a yellow cardboard file on his desk, with the head of Social Demeanor. "The report of the arrest of Fernand Bosquet has come?" Amadeo glanced away, as if he wanted to explain to the other party directly, but his hand had already reached the doorknob.At last he just asked vaguely: "What do you mean by that?" "I meant to say that Caro's prosthetics arrested a girl. Where is she now?" "I have no idea." "Please allow me to take a look at this material, can you?" He couldn't refuse the request.McGarry leaned over, read a few lines, and made an immediate judgment. "She must be at the anthropometric office now! . . . " The phone rang again, and Amadeo gestured. "Sorry, but..." "I know. The boss is waiting for you." McGarry buttoned his coat and walked out of the office at the same time as the Sheriff.He didn't go down the stairs, but walked with the sheriff to the drawing room with the red sofa. "Please ask the boss if he can see me?" Amadeo pushed open an upholstered door.The civil servants in the office also evaded automatically as usual, and Philip has been brought into the director's office.McGregor stood outside the door, hat in hand, waiting. "The director is very busy now, so I ask you to come to him in the afternoon." McGarry turned immediately and retraced the plainclothes police teams.The expression on his face became more serious, but he wanted to laugh, and finally he did, but it was a wry smile. Instead of going up the street, he turned into the narrow passage and up the winding staircase that led to the top floor of the courthouse.He came to the anthropometric office, opened the door and walked in.The determination of the female prisoner is over.More than fifty male prisoners captured at night were undressing in a gray painted room, and the undressed clothes were piled on the bench. After taking off their clothes, they walked into the next room next to each other. The staff in black coats were taking their fingerprints, asking them to sit on the chairs for body measurement, and then loudly announced the results of the measurement, just like big people. The department store salesperson shouted the same price to the cash register. The room smelled of human sweat and dirty clothes.Most looked flustered and felt somewhat uncomfortable about being naked.They were shoved from one corner of the room to the other by staff, and since many of them did not understand French, they were especially clumsy when ordered to perform prescribed movements. McGregor shook hands with the staff one by one very cordially, and listened to some reasonable polite words from them: "Are you here for a walk? How is the country? The weather in the country must be wonderful this season!" The glare of neon tube lights blinds a small room where photographers are at work. "There are a lot of female prisoners this morning, right?" "There are seven." "Do you have their cards here?" The cards lay out on the table and hadn't been filed yet.The third one belonged to Fernand, with five finger prints on it, a crooked signature, and a naked photo pasted on it. "Didn't she say anything? Didn't she cry?" "No. She is submissive." "Do you know where you took her?" "I'm not sure whether she should be set free, or sent to Saint-Lazare for a few days." McGarry's eyes flicked over the naked male prisoners lined up like soldiers in a barracks, and then he raised his hand to the brim of his hat and said: "goodbye!" "Why, don't you stay for a while?" He had already reached the head of the stairs, and there was no step on this staircase that he had not stepped on a thousand times.There was another staircase on the right, narrower than this one, leading to the laboratory, where he knew every corner and every glass bottle like the back of his hand. He made his way back to the third floor, where the plainclothes had just left.Some visitors began to sit at the door of each office, some of them were summoned, some came to complain by themselves, or had something to expose. McGregor had spent most of his life in this environment, but now he suddenly looked around with disgust. Is Philip still in the chief's office?Most likely it's gone!At this moment, he has been arrested, and his two colleagues are escorting him to the office of the Pre-Trial Palace! What had the chief said to him inside the padded gate?Had he talked it over with Philip from the bottom of his heart? "You have made a mistake, and there are so many crimes against you that the public cannot understand why you are allowed to go free. However, we will do our best to find out the truth, and you are still one of our own." The boss certainly wouldn't say that to him.McGregor seemed to hear the boss—who waited impatiently for Amadeo—groaning between coughs: "Mr. Plainclothes, I really can't compliment you enough. It's easier for you to work here than anyone else because of your uncle's sponsorship. Do you deserve this kind of care?" Amadillo added embellishments: "From now on, your case will be at the sole discretion of the examining magistrate. It can only be so in accordance with the best wishes of all sectors of society, and there is nothing we can do to help you." However, Amadeo, with his long pale face and his brown beard, was not a villain.He has a wife and three children, one of whom is a daughter, for whom he is seeking a dowry.He always thought that everyone around him was fighting openly and secretly, competing for his position, and doing everything possible to try to tarnish his reputation. As for the director, he will reach the limit of age in two years and must retire, so before that he has to play it safe. Putting this case into the environment at that time to analyze it was originally a general case, that is to say, mistakes made in daily work.But who would go to the trouble of defending a young cop who made a mistake?Besides, he was McGregor's nephew. Caroux was a villain, everyone knew that, even he didn't try to hide it.He eats whatever is in the trough, serves the opposing sides, and reaps the benefits.When he betrayed someone to the police, there must be nothing more to gain from him. Karo is also a very dangerous villain.He has some cronies and friends who make a lot of friends, and he is especially proficient in a set of power tactics to protect himself.It's clear that he's going to be brought to justice one day, people have noticed him, even checked his alibi, and the investigation is on track. However, people don't want to push themselves too hard!Especially without the need for McGregor to intervene!He spoke recklessly and acted recklessly, who could bear his strange temper. He went out into the stone-paved courtyard, where some poor souls were waiting at the door of the juvenile court.Although the weather was fine, it was cold here, and there were still marks of frost in the crevices of the stones in the shade. "Philip is an ass!" McGregor was so resentful that he blurted out. Because he is very aware of his situation, he is like an old horse circling around the field, turning around and never being able to turn around.It was not a matter of being clever, of which there is no such thing in the police force; nor was it a question of finding a clue or a trace that would have escaped the attention of the public and had astounded one. Although the matter came suddenly, it was very simple, like lice on a bald man's head--obviously.Ka Ruo personally killed or sent someone to kill Pepido, the key is how to make Ka Ruo finally admit: "That's the truth!" McGarry wandered beside the laundry boats on the embankment; he had no right to summon the "notary," lock him up for hours, repeat the same questions to him, and force him to squeeze him if necessary. He couldn't pretend to be calm. Nor could he gather the cafe waiters, the tobacconist and other interested persons who gathered every evening a hundred meters from Floria to play "Brott." He had just used Fernand, but was completely taken away from his hands. He came to Xintaiqiao Restaurant, pushed open the glass door, and shook hands with Luca who was sitting in front of the counter. "All right, boss?" Luca always called him boss, because the years when they fought together was something he would never forget. "Bad!" McGregor replied. "It's hard, isn't it?" The matter itself was not difficult, it was just a short tragedy. "I'm getting old! Maybe it's because I live in the country?" "What would you like to drink?" "Have a glass of Perno, look at mine!" He said this as if he was challenging someone.He suddenly remembered that he had promised to write a letter to his wife, but he didn't have the courage to write this letter. "Can't I help you?" Luca was a queer, good-natured fellow, without a wife, without a family, always dressed casually, slovenly, and not strong.McGarry's eyes wandered for a moment in the nearly full restaurant, and he had to squint his eyes when they turned to the glass windows bathed in sunlight. "Have you ever worked with Philip?" "It happened two or three times." "Is he very unpleasant?" "Some people hate him because he's not talkative, you know, he's indecisive. They locked him up?" "To your health." Seeing that McGregor was so unhappy, Luca was quite worried. "I can tell you that I can trust you. I will take all necessary measures. Do you understand? It's better for someone to know this, so that if something goes wrong..." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then tapped lightly on the table with a steel forge, beckoning the waiter to come. "Don't worry about it! This time I will take care of the account." "Very well then. I'll treat you when things are over. Good-bye, Luca." "Goodbye, boss." Luca shook McGregor's rough hand tightly. "You still have to be careful!" McGregor stood up and roared loudly: "I hate these bastards!" He left the hotel alone and wandered the streets.He has plenty of time, because even he doesn't know where to go now.