Chapter 8 Devil's Orchard
In 1943, Labor Day weekend, this is a day worth remembering by everyone (Dr. Sam watched the guests holding wine glasses, sat down safely, and talked about it).The battle on the front line turned a corner on this day. The British army invaded the main island of Italy on Friday. Six days later, on September 3, the U.S. military joined in. Seeing that the situation was over, Italy quickly surrendered.But in the peaceful town of North Hill, the only thing we remember about the war is the date—the holiday weekend.There was also a strange incident: a young man ran into Desmond's orchard--someone nicknamed the orchard "Devil's Orchard"--and disappeared in plain sight.
I'm going a little too fast, and the story has to start from the beginning.First of all, I'd like to introduce you to Phil Fitzshew, a handsome young guy who just turned nineteen and has been working in his family's feed shop right out of high school.Lisa Smith is his girlfriend, and they fell in love after co-starring in a high-profile play in this town.Lisa graduated that summer, and my wife, Annabelle, recruited her to work as an assistant at the animal clinic, and we got to know each other quickly.
On Friday night, the Labor Day weekend kicked off, and the orange-red light of the setting sun broke through the clouds, making people forget the haze of two consecutive rainy days.I got a call from Annabelle on my way home from the hospital office and she asked me to drop by and pick up some snacks because Sergeant Lens and his wife were joining us for a picnic in the backyard on Sunday afternoon.I parked the Buick in front of the Desmond's department store on the town square and walked in.In my memory fifteen years ago, this was Max Hackner's site, full of cracker barrels and round cheese. Today, fifteen years later, this place is still one of the favorite places for young people in the town to stop.There are three billiard machines at the entrance, which are often occupied by people. The sound of the machines is mixed with the noisy voices of people, becoming the background of the department store.
Desmond's Department Store is owned by Carter and his wife, Felice, but at this time of year, Felice is the only one in charge of the store, and Carter stays in their family's hundred-acre apple orchard to prepare for the harvest season. Prepare.Speaking of this orchard, it can be said to be well-known, because it is said to be haunted by ghosts, and it is naturally reminiscent of the story of the devil incarnate as a serpent lurking in the Garden of Eden.Most of the residents of Beishan laughed at these legends, because the couple always used this story to scare the children who came to the orchard to steal the fruit.They erected barbed wire fences on both sides of the orchard to strengthen the defense against theft.
"Hey, Phyllis," I put my purchases on the checkout counter, "Is Carter busy with the orchard?"
"Starts tomorrow morning. We're hiring, let us know if you know anyone who needs work. Almost all the lads are in the army." She pushed back a lock of hair that fell over her eyes, and smiled.
While she was busy checking out, I glanced out casually and saw a bald man passing by the window.He had a goatee and an earring.
"Who's that guy? Looks like apple picking would suit him."
"Don't know, probably from the gypsies' side. He took a room at Mrs. Dobby's a few months ago, but Dobby says he's rarely at home."
I took the things I bought and walked out of the store.
"Hey sir, are you looking for a job?"
He glanced at me and turned away immediately.
"No." He muttered, almost inaudibly.After speaking, he quickened his pace and walked away.
When I got home, I saw an unfamiliar blue Ford parked in the driveway.I was surprised to find both Lisa Smith and Annabelle in the kitchen.The girl's eyes were red, probably from crying just now.
"Women's talk?" I didn't want to interrupt them.
"Sit down, Sam," said Annabelle earnestly, "Lisa is in a little trouble."
It was a beautiful girl with shoulder-length brown hair and sparkling blue eyes.As far as I know, Annabelle is very happy with her work on "The Ark" over the summer.But when she was talking to me, she bowed her head blindly.
"Fair and I were going to get married, but my family didn't agree. They thought I was too young and needed a different kind of relationship experience."
"You're not the first person with this kind of problem," I told her. "Time is the best medicine. In a year's time, when you're both more mature, I'm sure your family will accept him."
"You don't understand!" She sobbed again as she spoke, "He was drafted by the team, and he will go for a medical examination as soon as Labor Day is over."
"What did his family say?"
"His dad is dead, and he hasn't told his mum or brother about our plans. I don't know what we're going to do."
I exchanged glances with Annabelle, and she took my words and said, "Lisa, maybe we can talk to you two. Where is he tonight?"
"Have a drink, I guess. He's very unstable."
"Does he have a store he frequents?"
She named several pubs and added that he might have been at a friend's too.I called the bars, but they all said they hadn't seen Phil Fitzshew.I called his house again, but Mrs. Fitzshew said he was out.I thought about Sergeant Lens, who used to patrol the town on Friday nights, especially since it was the start of the holiday weekend.When the call came through, I said, "It's not urgent, Sheriff. I'd like to know where Phil Fitzshew is. If you see him tonight, would you please give me a call?"
"No problem, buddy," he replied, "It's quiet tonight. I'll go to Marx's Steakhouse later and call you when I see what he said."
I'm a little skeptical he'll be able to find Fair in Max's, by North Hill standards.It was a classy place, where Annabelle and I had our wedding reception.But twenty minutes later, while we were trying to persuade Lisa to go home, the sheriff's call came.
"Doctor, I'm in Marx's right now, and our Brother Fitscher is here too, and looks like he's had a lot to drink. I don't think he'll be able to drive home, but he won't come with me, and I don't want to." Get him. Can you make a run?"
"I'll be there in ten minutes, and Lisa Smith will come with me."
Sergeant Lan Si hesitated for a moment, then said, "You'd better come alone, doctor."
I told Annabelle and Lisa about the situation, but asked Lisa to stay with us.
"It seems that he drank a lot. If he is not very drunk, I will bring him back, otherwise I will send him home directly."
"I hate seeing him drunk," she said.
The legal drinking age in our state at the time was eighteen, so I wondered if the bartender at Max's was breaking the law.And I feel like I have a responsibility as a doctor to help young people live healthier lives, physically and mentally.Saying goodbye to wife and girls, I drove to Marx's Steakhouse, and the sheriff's car was parked across the street, with Lieutenant Joe Hauser sitting alone in the driver's seat, waiting for his boss to return.When I walked into the store, I immediately saw the sheriff and Phil Fitzshew in front of the bar.
Phil was a good-looking guy, with a thin face hidden by a tuft of sandy hair, which he grew a little longer than most young men in those days.I thought to myself, if he enlists in the army, this hairstyle will definitely be lost.He is dressed today in blue jeans and a white T-shirt with the name of his family's store, Fizz Hugh Grain Feed, printed on the back.I immediately understood why the sheriff had asked me to come alone. It turned out that Phil was chatting with a dark-haired woman sitting next to him.
"Hey, doctor." Sergeant Lan Si shook my hand pretending to meet by chance.
"Hey, Phil, this is Dr. Hawthorne."
Phil Fizzio turned around, showing a forced smile.
"I'm not in a good mood today," he whispered.Then, he turned back and talked to the female companion beside him: "Alan, how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Phil." She was a few years older than Phil, and clearly sober.I've seen her a few times around town, but never spoke to her. "But it's almost time for you to go home," she went on.
"I'll take you back." I offered.
"I have a car," he said intermittently, shaking his head, "one more cup, and I'm leaving."
"You've had too much to drink tonight," I said coldly. "Come on, Phil, and I'll see you off."
But drunk people are more difficult to deal with.
"I'm going to be in the army next week. This is my last free weekend. I'm going to enjoy it to the fullest."
He got off the high stool and saw that his legs were about to fall, but fortunately Sergeant Lan Si was quick and grabbed his arm, and I also went up to support him.
"Is his bill cleared?" I asked the bartender.
"yes."
Allen watched all this with anxiety and panic on his face.
"You'd better take him home," she said.
As soon as I got to the door, I told her, "Let's go in my car. I don't want his mother to see the police car bring her son back."
But Phil Fitzshew has been relentlessly trying to break free from me.
"Doctor, you still have to drive. You can't handle him alone. I will go with you, and Joe Hauser can follow us, and then send me back to the bureau."
So, with them sitting in the back, I started the car and left Marx's Steakhouse.The fastest way to get to Fitzshew's house from the restaurant is to drive straight along Mill Road, passing Carter Desmond's apple orchard and his neighbor's house along the way.Because the orchard had a stone wall on the side of the road, it was easy for me to know when we were on the straight.A few years ago, Desmond erected two eight-foot-high barbed wire fences on both sides of the orchard. The top of the fence was covered with sharp barbs. This caused a commotion at the time, and the town council sent a fence inspection commissioner to inspect it. , and ordered Desmond to use traditional New England stone walls instead of barbed wire, but Carter Desmond said he could not afford the cost of such a large section of stone walls-each side of the orchard was almost a mile long, so in order to prevent Kid (and neighbor) stealing apples, he chooses barbed wire.
Phil and the sheriff were jostling in the backseat all the time, which made it hard for me to concentrate on driving.
"Let me get out of the car," Phil said stubbornly. "I'm not going home yet."
"Kid, calm down," the sheriff threatened him, "do you want to wear handcuffs?"
Then, before I knew it, Phil opened the back door and jumped out of the moving car.The stone wall was on our right, from which barbed wire stretched, dividing Desmond's orchard from the rest of the land.
"This is the Devil's Orchard!" Phil Fitzixiu cheered while hiccupping, "Don't follow me!"
He ran over the wire fence, then climbed over the stone wall on all hands and feet.I stopped the car quickly, got out of the car with the sheriff and ran wildly.But he quickly climbed over the low wall and quickly disappeared deep in the rows of apple trees, the branches bent under the weight of ripe apples.
"It's pitch dark and we can't find him," I said. "I'm going around to Desmond's front door. You stand here in case he escapes."
Behind us, I saw Joe Hauser coming up in the sheriff's car.
"I hope this silly boy doesn't hurt himself." Sergeant Lan Si said dissatisfied.
I hurried back to the car.The next corner was closer than I expected, and even so, it was nearly a mile to the road where Desmond's front door was located. Three minutes later, I turned onto Desmond Road and kept my eyes on the road. to the right, though I know of no one who can get from one end of the orchard to the other in such a short time, day or night.There was an identical stone wall on this side of the orchard, with only one opening in the driveway leading to Desmond's house.
The soft light broke the black background, and it turned out that Carter and Felice were happily breathing the fresh night air on the porch.
"Hey, Sam," he yelled at me, "are you still in the office?"
In Beishan Town, Carter Desmond was not so approachable, because of the fence, he offended many people.For example, Simon Fox, his orchard is adjacent to Desmond, and he feels that this is a kind of provocation to himself.Felice, on the other hand, was more cordial, and she immediately got up and invited me to join them for some lemonade.
"This is not the time, Phyllis. We were taking Phil Fitzshew home, and he was very drunk. On Mill Road, he jumped out of my car and climbed over the stone wall into the your orchard. We need to find him before he hurts himself."
"He didn't come out this way," Desmond reassured. "We sat outside all night with the lights on. No matter which side of the fence he came from, he couldn't escape our eyes."
"It's only been five or six minutes since he got off the car, and he's not that fast after all."
Felice poured me a glass of lemonade, and I sat and waited patiently.An hour later, the phone in the room rang, and it turned out that Sergeant Lansi called from the intercom in the police car.
"There is no movement on my side, doctor, how is your side?"
"Same as you, Sheriff. I wonder if he fell asleep on the floor, but it's not easy to find him in this dark."
Carter Desmond broke in and said, "I've got fifty workers here, and we'll start picking the fruit at first light tomorrow, so we can have a good search of the orchard then."
I spoke his words to the sheriff.
"Perhaps it's time for the two of us to go home and rest too, Sheriff. Can you get your men to keep an eye on Mill Road and Desmond Road? Maybe he'll wake up and run away."
"No problem," he replied, "unless something unexpected happens in the middle of the night."
"It can't be such a coincidence. Then we'll see you in the orchard tomorrow morning."
I said good night to the Desmonds and got in my car and waited at the gate until a policeman came to take my place.When I got home, I told Annabelle what had happened.Lisa Smith was gone by then, but my wife was still up, and instead she was eager to talk to me about the girl.
“The girl was so worried that she was almost ashamed,” she told me. “It was just so worrying.”
"War is what it is, and a lot of young people have to put off their big marriages."
Annabelle took a deep breath and said, "Her father threatened to kill Phil Fizzio if he impregnated Lisa."
"and then?"
"And then she actually got pregnant."
Just after seven o'clock, I had parked the car at the gate of Desmond's orchard, and Carter was giving instructions to a group of orchard workers standing crookedly.
"Good morning, Sam," he greeted me. "The police officers on duty last night said they didn't see Fizzleau on either side of the orchard, and it looks like he's still in there. I've put the workers in charge of one column each." Push forward, and once you spot your target, shout hello."
The workers soon started walking deeper into the orchard when I saw Felice standing on the porch with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.Each worker carried a burlap sack over his shoulder, and I figured once they found the troublemaker, they'd be off to pick apples.About ten minutes later, a cry came from the depths of the orchard, and Desmond and I ran to follow the sound.
The search team stopped, and a group of people gathered around the barbed wire, watching something on the ground.Judging from the size of the circle they formed, it should not be human.
"Don't touch that thing," Carter Desmond ordered.As we got closer, I realized it was Fizzio's T-shirt with black letters on it.Someone pressed the clothes under with stones, as if afraid of being blown away by the wind.
There were spots of blood on the clothes. I didn't see these marks the night before.
"Keep going," Desmond ordered his men. "He's injured. We must find him."
"What do you think happened?"
"That idiot must have tried to climb over the fence and got scratched by the thorns."
"The fence is eight feet high."
"He is young and in good shape. If there are no spikes on it, he might be able to turn over."
I found that there was no grass in sight for a long distance near the fence of the clothes.
"After the rain, it's soft mud," I pointed out.
"We control the growth of weeds around the fence so it's easier to weed," he explained.
"But there are no shoe prints on the ground, at least he didn't go out from here, otherwise he would definitely leave marks on the wet mud."
We checked the rest of the fence and found no traces of dirt.When we walked to the other side of the orchard, the workers had turned back from their respective areas.They had reached the end of the orchard near Mill Road, where the sheriff's lieutenant had been stationed.
We searched all over the orchard, but still couldn't find Phil Fitzer.Except for the bloody T-shirt, the young man disappeared.Is there really a devil living in Carter Desmond's orchard?
We first checked the blood stains left on Fitzshaw's clothes. He had his tonsils removed a few years ago, and according to Pilgrim Memorial Hospital's records at the time, it was indeed his blood type.Once this was confirmed, the police inspected the two iron fences with great care. No footprints could be found on the wet mud, and no trace of blood was found on the spikes at the top of the fence after close inspection.
"He probably slipped away on stilts," mused the sheriff.
"Where did the stilts go? They should still be inside the fence."
"Well, I suppose it's possible," he said sullenly.
We walked towards Desmond's house, surrounded by workers who were busy packing lovely apples into sacks.Phyllis Desmond was with them, reminding them of some precautions now and then.I stopped and watched for a while.When we got back to the room, I asked her, "How many people came to work today?"
"Forty-nine, we recruited fifty, but one of them didn't show up this morning. It must have been too much to drink the night before. These outsiders are not very reliable, but the local boys have all joined the army, and we also no way."
"Do you pay them every day when you leave work?"
"Of course, we will not give you a penny less for each bag of apples."
"When the fruit picking is over today, please help me to count the number of workers."
She was a little puzzled by this request: "It's just forty-nine people. If you don't believe me, you can go and see for yourself."
I told her that was exactly what I meant.
"What are you thinking, doctor?" Sergeant Lan Si asked, "Could it be that Fizzle was among the workers when they searched the orchard in the morning?"
"There is a possibility, although the possibility is not high. They are moving forward in a straight line. When the bloody clothes are found, there will be a commotion, and someone can take the opportunity to sneak in. So I hope to count the number of people again before leaving get off work. "
The sheriff and I went again to the orchard next door to question Simon Fox.He has a big beard and a prominent hunchback. As far as I remember, he is an old resident of Beishan Town.
"What's going on?" Just as I remembered, he looked very irritable, "This fucking Desmond built a bullshit fence and didn't finish it, and now he actually lured a police car over in the middle of the night, disturbing my sleep! "
"We're looking for a missing young man," I explained to him, "his name is Phil Fitzshew. Last night he got too drunk, jumped out of my car, and went into Desmond He never came out of the orchard at home. This morning, we found his bloody T-shirt in the orchard."
"Devil's Orchard," Fox muttered, "knew something was going to happen. I killed a snake myself last year, and it was 100 percent from that garden."
"Can we look at your side of the fence?" Sergeant Lens asked. "Maybe we can find some clues."
"Please, but don't pick my apples. I have arranged for people to start picking after Labor Day."
The sheriff and I walked along the fence, but found nothing.No footprints were left on the wet ground.
"What now?" he asked.
I looked at my watch and said, "It's almost time to talk to his family."
Phil Fitzshew's house was at the end of Mill Road. It was a small and exquisite house where his mother and brother lived.
"My child is dead?" asked Mrs. Fitzshew with a look of horror, she was bewildered by our sudden appearance.
"We don't know yet," I replied truthfully. "We hope to get some useful clues from you. As far as I know, joining the army has made him very unhappy."
Mrs. Fitzshaw was forty years old, but she looked quite charming, and she kept the room in perfect order.I secretly decided to give her some confidence.
"I don't know what he's been obsessed with for the last few weeks," she told us. "When he was called up, he was going crazy."
"How did his girlfriend react?" Sergeant Lens asked.
"Things between them are also reaching a critical point," she said candidly. "I just told them to be patient until the end of their military service."
"Sometimes young people hate waiting," I said. "Can we see his room?"
"No problem, come with me, hope this helps the case."
Like the rest of the house, the upstairs room is immaculate, with a picture of the missing boy and Lisa Smith posing next to the bed.There are a few things affixed to the walls: a banner from high school, a poster for the school drama club titled "Our Town," and a map of the world carefully marked along the lines of the Allied advance.I looked around and asked, "Does Phil have any enemies? Does anyone want to harm him?"
"I don't think so. You don't really think he's dead, do you?"
"We don't know what's going on with your child, ma'am," said the Sheriff softly. "We're just looking at things as comprehensively as possible."
Back in the car, we continued on to Lisa Smith's house, and Sergeant Lens grew increasingly concerned.
"He couldn't have left that orchard alive, Doctor, we all know that."
"But it's impossible for him to leave dead. Let's wait and see the results of the orchard population statistics this afternoon."
"As far as I'm concerned, if anyone tried to kill him, it would be for Miss Smith, who may have other lovers."
"Have you ever seen her with someone else?" I asked.
"That's not true, but one day I saw the bald-headed gypsy talking to her outside the pharmacy, but she ignored it and kept walking."
Lisa's father, Harold, a stocky man with thinning hair and glasses, worked at the North Hills Trust Bank.At noon on Saturday, when the bank was closed, he removed his suit and tie, leaving only a fake collar, which is the outfit of many bankers and entrepreneurs.
"How's that Fitzshew kid?" he asked us, and Lisa had come upstairs to join us.
"There is no new news yet," the sheriff said.
"What do you two think?" I asked the father and daughter directly.
"I don't know him at all," answered Harold Smith, "and the only advice I can give him is to keep off my daughter."
"We're going to get married, Dad," she whispered.
"We have to see how he is doing in the team first. After the war, there will be plenty of time to get married." After finishing speaking, he went back to the living room by himself, picked up the half-read newspaper and continued reading.
"Can I talk to you privately for a few minutes?" I asked Lisa.
"I... I think it should be okay." She walked ahead of me into the kitchen, and Sergeant Lens followed her father to the living room.
"Mom went grocery shopping, but I really have nothing to tell you."
I grabbed Lisa's hand and said softly, "Annabelle has already told me everything about you."
She withdrew her hand.
"I do not want……"
"Don't hide it, Lisa, I'm a doctor. Do you think it's possible that someone wanted to deal with him for this reason?"
Avoiding my gaze, she replied, "I don't know how Dad will react when he finds out about this..."
"Anyone else? Like, uh, a jealous man?"
She shook her head.
"I only have one boyfriend, Phil."
"The sheriff saw the gypsy talking to you."
"He wanted to buy me a drink, but I ignored him."
"Is this the only time he hit on you?"
"Well, I don't know him, I don't even know his name."
"I'm told it's Howe Newson, and he's renting a room at Mrs. Dobby's hotel." At this moment Inspector Lance came back to us.
"He claims to have no knowledge of the boy's disappearance, doctor, what shall we do?"
"It's almost time to go back to Desmond's orchard."
We sat on the porch and watched Felice pay the fruit pickers one by one.
"Forty-nine," said her husband after counting the list, "the guy who didn't come, according to his brother, sprained his ankle and couldn't pick fruit. One is one, two is two, my management here is very strict .”
Sergeant Lan Si was very dissatisfied with the result.
"Doctor, it's all right now."
"Don't worry, I'll analyze it again from beginning to end." I tore a piece of paper from Felice's notepad and wrote down a series of possibilities, "It is certain that he did enter the orchard. The two of us have seen it with our own eyes, so there is no mistake. The Desmond Road I guarded is not abnormal, are your men who are on duty at night reliable?"
"Joe Hauser is my best man, you know. The others are all good. Anyway, he can only get away at night by jumping over some fence."
However, this possibility has also been ruled out by me.
"We have checked the area along the fence. The ground is soft and there must be footprints. Although there are bloodstains on his clothes, there is no evidence that he was scratched by the spikes on the top of the fence. As for the stilts, I think we don't have to think about it."
"That means he's still in the garden today during the day."
"Theoretically, that's it," I nodded. "The problem is that we searched every inch of the orchard and confirmed forty-nine fruit pickers, but the boy was not among them."
"That's really impossible, Doctor."
"There is another possibility that we haven't considered. Phil Fitzer is still here, but we can't see it."
"Can't see? Could he be invisible?"
I turned to Carter Desmond, "Do you have a well in your garden?"
He tilted his head and thought for a while: "Ferris, do you remember the well we filled in? Is that well in the orchard?"
"Of course I remember. It was ten or fifteen years ago. I forgot the exact location."
"Do you have any old maps or land survey data, maybe there will be labels on it."
He turned and went into the cramped office, and came out a moment later with a map in his hand.He spread out the measurement chart: "See if there is any on it."
We all leaned behind his shoulder and looked closely, and saw rows of apple trees above, and each tree was represented by a circle.About a hundred feet back from Desmond's house, between the stone wall and the fence, was a smaller circle marked with the letter "W."
"That's it," he said, "we filled the well and planted grass."
"Let's go take a look." I suggested.
We found the well by counting the rows of fruit trees, but there was no sign of digging or other disturbance around the mouth of the well.
"It can't be here," Desmond told us. "I remember we filled in a lot of soil before we put grass in it. If you think he fell into the well, forget it."
He was absolutely right.We've hit another dead end.
Because of gasoline quotas, no one wants to drive far on holiday weekends.People spend this time with their families.We invited Sheriff Lens and Willa to have a picnic in our backyard on Sunday afternoon, but the Sheriff spent most of that afternoon by the phone.
"Joe Hauser, one of my men, found the gypsy following Lisa Smith from the church this morning. I thought he was going to be caught and tortured?"
"There is no evidence yet that this was a criminal incident."
"The blood on Fitz's clothes is the evidence."
"Let's not be too impatient..." I persuaded.
"Maybe the gypsy followed the boy to the orchard, or he met him in the orchard by chance. After killing him, he buried the body in the bare mud next to the fence, and then smoothed the soil so that no one could see it." come out."
"If he followed all the way, how could we not find it? Where did he get the shovel for digging? How did he leave the orchard?"
"I don't know, doctor," he admitted honestly, "but people don't just disappear for nothing."
After the picnic, Vera helped Annabelle clean up the tableware. I noticed that Sergeant Lens was still preoccupied, so I suggested, "Newsome lives in Mrs. Dobby's small hotel. Let's talk to him."
"Are you still working on holiday weekends?" Vera complained to her husband.
"Let's go for a while." I comforted.
We got into the sheriff's car, and within ten minutes Mrs. Dobby's hotel was in sight.She was an amiable widow, and when her husband died she rented out her room and her children moved elsewhere.When we arrived, she was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, chatting with her neighbors.
"We would like to speak to one of your lodgers. His name is Howe Newsome," said the Sheriff politely. "Is he here?"
"The bald head? You guys are late. He just left an hour ago. He packed his bags and said he was going to catch a train to New York. He spent the last two nights here, but I told him that the police He seemed flustered when we talked about him."
Sergeant Lan Si was furious, but fortunately he controlled his emotions in time: "He must know that we are after him, doctor!"
"What time is the next train to New York today?"
"I think it was four-thirty, and there were still fifteen minutes. Maybe we still had time to catch this guy."
Back in the car, he immediately found Lieutenant Hauser on the police radio: "Joe, this is the Sheriff, we just got to Mrs. Dobby's hotel, but Newsome has fled. We figured he was going to catch the next train New York."
"See you at the train station." He said decisively, and then cut off the call.
We parked the car in the train station car park while Hauser arrived in another car.There was no bald-headed gypsy man on the platform.
"He may have lied to the landlady about his plans," I said. "You and Hauser go into the waiting room, and I'll look at the other side of the platform."
The whistle of the train approaching the station sounded, and the locomotive with the words "Boston-Maine" came into view from the corner of the railroad tracks.The short-carriage train slowly stopped on the platform. After guiding a passenger to get off the train, the conductor shouted loudly and invariably: "Everyone get on the train!" The passengers waiting on the platform got on the train one by one. The conductor follow at the end.
Then I saw Howe Newson suddenly jump out from behind a row of bushes, suitcase in his arms, and run towards the last car.
"Sheriff!" I called out.
Lan Si and the adjutant also discovered the target at the same time.
"Stop!" the sheriff yelled, but Newsome pretended not to hear.Adjutant Hauser strode forward, trying to stop him.Just as he was about to catch up, Newsome stopped, flung his hand back, and the handbag fell on the adjutant's head.As a result, Hauser bent down in pain, but just hugged Newsome's ass.The two fell to the ground together, and the sheriff had arrived at this time, and they worked together to subdue the fugitive.
They handcuffed Newsome and searched his pockets while I stood at a distance.After a while, the sheriff came up to me.
"Doctor, that's the man we're looking for. Phil Fitzshew's wallet is in his pocket. I'm going to arrest him on suspicion of murder."
"Don't worry," I said, "you can't do that."
He asked puzzledly, "Why?"
"Newsom couldn't have killed Phil Fitzshew because he was Phil Fitzshew."
Of all the cases I've been through in North Hills, the Devil's Orchard case stands out for the reasons I later explained to Sheriff Lens:
"There was no murder at all in this case. The only crime was an attempt to evade military service, and the official report time is next Monday. He couldn't walk away without Lisa, who was pregnant, and her terrible father threatened to never Let go of the unscrupulous. Seeing that there is no hope of getting married immediately, Phil Fizziu made a plan. In order to escape military service, he only needs to pretend to be missing and create another identity at the same time, so that he can still stay in Beishan Town to take care of the pregnant Girlfriend."
"But Newsome is bald and has a beard on his chin."
"Simple, when he figured it out, he shaved his head and glued on a fake beard. Don't forget, they met at a high school play in 'Our Town' and he even kept Looking at the poster at that time. Surprisingly. Just these two changes of attire changed him completely. Although I saw him once, he turned away so quickly that I couldn't see him clearly.的脸。他在手提包里装了一些衣物，然后住进了多比太太的客房，开始在人们面前制造第二个身份。在学校话剧社的表演，教会他很多化装和表演的技巧。而且豪威·纽桑正是'我们这个镇'当中的一个人物。”
“纽桑在镇上出现之后，我们还是看到了有头发的费尔啊。”警长不服地说。
我摇摇头：“那是假发，你有没有注意到他头发的长度刚好遮住了耳朵，这一来就掩盖了他作为纽桑登场时戴着的耳环。当多比太太告诉我他的新房客很少在旅馆里过夜的时候，我便大感奇怪——而当我得知他周五和周六两晚都在客房里度过时，我的怀疑又多了几分。显然周五之前，他是在自己家里度过的，而当他失踪后，就不得不以新的身份在多比太太的客房过夜了。”
“那失踪是怎么回事，医生？你还没解释他是怎么从戴斯蒙果园逃出去的呢。”
“他用不着从果园出去，因为他从来就没有进去过，警长。周五晚上的醉酒全是他演出来的，只不过是为了找个机会从我们眼皮底下消失。他本来的计划可能并不是这样，但当你们两个在后座纠缠不清的时候，我被分了神，他注意到我并没有在看路，于是跳下车，并且喊着要跑到魔鬼果园去之类的话。其实我们当时已经开过了第一条铁丝网篱笆，但因为天黑我并没有注意到。当第二条篱笆出现的时候，他从车上跳下去，然后翻过篱笆旁边的矮墙，因此他闯进的果园不是戴斯蒙家的，而是他的邻居，西蒙·福克斯的果园。后来我继续向前开，直到转弯，我记得到弯道的距离比我印象中要近，原来是这个原因。”
“我真是昏了头！不过我们一直守在米尔路上，他并没有从墙里翻出来。”
“没错，他没有原路返回。他只是悠闲地从福克斯的果园大门出来，走到戴斯蒙路上，不过不是正对戴斯蒙家的那一段。”
“你好像忘了他的血衣，医生。那件衣服是在戴斯蒙的果园里发现的。”
“你别忘了和衣服一起发现的石头。菲兹修在手臂或者腿上浅浅地割了一刀，让血流在他的T恤衫上。然后随便找块石头，用衣服包着，朝戴斯蒙的果园里一扔，好让我们的注意力转移到他是死是活这件事上面。我们开始认为石头是用来压着衣服的，其实却是用来帮助投掷的工具罢了。”
“我怎么就没发现这些呢？”他问。
“事实都放在你眼前啦，只不过你得出了错误的结论。纽桑被人目击和丽萨说话，并且在教堂跟踪丽萨，当我们开始询问的时候，他试图逃跑，并且带着菲兹修的钱包。这些在你眼里都是罪证，而我却知道这是因为爱。”
对这次事件的几个当事人来说，最终的谢幕是愉快的。费尔·菲兹修一周后到部队报到，并且前往迪克斯堡接受基础训练。孩子出生后，丽萨与男友在当地结婚，她的父亲勉强送上了长辈的祝福。费尔被派遣到海外时，战争已近尾声，故得以安全返回。从此他与丽萨，还有他们的孩子过上了快乐的生活。我有时候会想起他们，并且希望他们能一直这样携手走下去。
Notes:
Notes: