Chapter 10 suicide cabin
It was a fine day in 1976, and Dr. Sam Hawthorne's eightieth birthday party was well underway.Distraught by the successive visitors, he would rather spend the day alone, but that was only wishful thinking.The next visitor was an acquaintance of the doctor, who always greeted him warmly. "You've told a lot of stories to your old friends, but you've never told me, and it's my turn today. You promised me to tell me one on my eightieth birthday. I'm going to hear one The story in the summer of 1944."
He smiled and said, "Usually when I tell a story, I have to drink for fun. Would you like a glass of sherry?"
"I prefer whiskey, if you don't mind whiskey and water."
It was a very exciting summer (Dr. Sam served the guests snacks, and then began to tell stories).On June 6, the Allied forces invaded France with lightning speed.At dawn, Allied forces landed in Normandy, followed by air strikes inland.Despite heavy casualties, the landing was a success and the second echelon was able to enter without incident.But in Beishan Town, far from the battlefield, everything seemed relatively quiet, and I started counting down the days until the birth of our first child.Annabelle is due in late July, and she has already thought of a name for the baby. If it is a son, it will be called Sam Junior.I wasn't very happy with the name, so we didn't stop discussing the name.
At the end of June, after eight months of pregnancy, Annabelle had already handed over the daily operations of the "Ark" to the assistant, but she still insisted on handling any intractable diseases herself.She proposed moving to a log cabin on Chester Lake, a few miles from town, for the last month of labor, and I readily agreed.It's a really secluded place, but I still make occasional doctor visits, and my nurse, Aibo, has a way of getting in touch with me in case of an emergency.
Chester Pond, a mile wide by five miles long, is as quiet as a lake, and takes its name from the former owners of the district.I spent the summer of 1929 here.I was solving a case here where a group of people mysteriously disappeared from a houseboat.I was thirty-three years old and fell in love for the first time in my life.The girl's name was Miranda Gray, and I have often imagined her life now.
Outside the cabin, we had barely unloaded our month's worth of stuff from the car, when Annabelle started teasing me about Miranda.
"Well, what a pity we didn't get the cottage where Miranda Gray lived with her uncle and aunt. It would have brought back many fond memories."
What else can I say besides sighing: "If I had known, I wouldn't have told you about Miranda. Our relationship only lasted a few months."
All cottages in the Lake Chester area are one-story structures and look exactly alike.The moment I walked into the house, the old days of 1929 flooded me like a tide.The front half of the cottage is the living room with a small fireplace, the back half has the bedroom to the left, the kitchen and bathroom to the right, and a rear door leading to the gravel driveway.If there are more than two guests, someone has to spend the night on a rollaway bed in the living room.For those of us who long for quiet, there is no better place than here.
"I feel like I'm on my honeymoon again," Annabelle said when everything was set up, "except my stomach is different." She patted her stomach happily while staring at the living room ceiling. "That hook is a pie What's the use?"
"Probably used for hanging plants. Maybe it can be used as a prop for SM."
"Sheriff Lan Si said that there were thieves here last summer. If we catch him, hang him up!"
"Think about something positive and healthy lately..." I suggested.
"As-ordered, doctor."
"The sheriff also said all the cabins had new locks recently."
Just then, someone knocked on the screen door.I opened the door and saw a man about my age standing at the door with a smile on his face, wearing only shorts and a vest.
"Dr. Hawthorne, you probably don't know me anymore."
"um, I……"
"Raspin, Jerry Raspin. I was in administration at Pilgrim Memorial Hospital a few years ago."
"Ah, of course I remember you!" Because by this time I had already remembered.Before the war, he ran a real estate business, and his business was booming.
"Haha, I wouldn't recognize you without a formal suit. I live in the hut next door."
"Please come in." I hurriedly invited him in to cover up my previous hesitation.
He followed me into the living room, and Annabelle hurriedly wrapped her nightgown around her distended belly.
"I hope I don't bother you, Mrs. Hawthorne," he said. "We're going to be neighbors in July. My wife and I live next door to you."
"That's a good thing," said Annabelle.
"We don't necessarily live for a full month," I explained, "my wife is due in a few weeks and this is our first child."
"Wow, congratulations! What a great news!" He found a seat on the sofa and sat down.
"Do you come here every summer to escape the heat?" Annabelle asked.
Jerry Rasppin nodded. "My wife loves it here. Now that gas is controlled, I can't go anywhere! I wish the war was over sooner. My little car is dying!"
"There is good news on the battlefield. The Allied forces have invaded France." I told him the progress on the front line.
"We have a son who just got drafted," Raspin said relievedly. "Hopefully he'll be right out of the war after boot camp."
Annabelle looked out the window and said, "The houses of our two families are really similar."
"It's all the same on this side of the lake. But yours is a little different. The regulars call it the Suicide Shack."
"Why, is there any allusion?"
"There have been suicides here two summers in a row. An old man in 1942, and a young woman last year. Her husband was killed by the Japanese in the Solomon Islands. Tragedy!"
"I know about them," I said, "but never thought it would be the same cabin."
"I bet that doesn't work this year," he said with a smile, to lighten the conversation.
Annabelle sneered, "Mr. Raspian, this is not a rule, but a coincidence."
Our guest obviously realized that if he stayed any longer, the trouble would get worse and worse, so he took the initiative to leave: "I think we have to go back, see you later."
I watched him leave, then returned to Annabelle.
"How can we put up with a neighbor like this for a month?"
"I remember his wife as a nice woman. I saw her at a party once when he was still in the hospital."
"These legends about suicide..."
"This month will pass without a hitch, I assure you."
On the night of the Fourth of July, the residents of Chester Lake celebrated the holiday by adorning shining railroad lights around the lake.Individual huts even set off fireworks.But these excitement did not spread to our area.The next morning was Wednesday, and the bright dawn heralded another sunny day.Children who had already finished breakfast were playing in the lake.Annabelle stood on the porch, watching their figures with pleasure.
"Little Sam will be one of them in a few years. At that time, we will come back." She even went down to the lake for a few steps in the morning, which made me follow behind with trepidation, lest she accidentally fall.
We have a phone in the kitchen, and every morning I call the office to check with Aibo to see if there is a sick person.It was a peaceful July day, and the worst case ever reported by Aibo was the wasp sting of the Walker boy.He is always worrying. Last summer, he and his parents came here to escape the summer, but he disappeared from the cabin. Everyone was worried that he had drowned in Chester Lake.He was found huddled in a small space behind the kitchen sink after people had spent the day draining the lake.
On Monday, I drove Annabelle to our old friend Lincoln Jones for a routine checkup, and he told us everything was fine. "I'm going to give birth in two weeks at most," he predicted.
We also became acquainted with another neighbor of the cottage.Mrs. Spring was a little woman in her late fifties who used to work as a nurse in Boston.She was two cabins away from us, and still further away from the Jerry Raspins. "I live next door to Judge Hastings." She had been walking along the lake, and stopped to chat when she saw us. "You know the judge, don't you?"
I did know Hastings, he was popular in the town, but I didn't realize he lived next door to us.I haven't seen anyone move in that house since we moved here.Mrs. Spring resumed her trip around the lake, and I said to Annabelle, "If the judge does live next door, I think I'd better go and say hello to him. I'll go right now."
At first I was prepared to be shut down, but I only knocked twice before someone came from behind the curtain.Judge Hastings opened the door himself, as tall and dignified as he was in the courtroom.
"Hey, Sam Hawthorne! Why are you here?"
"Annabel and I live in the hut next to you. We moved here on the 1st. I just heard that you live here too. I didn't see anyone here two days ago, so I thought this room was empty."
He seemed to be debating whether to invite me in, but it would be rude to just evict me, and eventually he sat down in a chair on the porch.
"Maude is not feeling well," he explained, "so we haven't been out much for two days."
I sat on another wooden chair: "I hope there is nothing serious. If you need a doctor, you can call me anytime."
"It's okay, it's okay." He waved his hands hastily, as if accusing me of crow's mouth, "no big problem. Is this your first time here to escape the summer heat?"
"It's the first time since I got married. I came here many years ago, but as a doctor, I rarely have time for vacation. But it's different now. Annabelle is due this month. This is our first child. I I hope to spend as much time with her as possible.”
"A first child means a lot to a parent, Sam. I remember Lori very well when he was born, even though it was thirty years ago."
"What is he doing now?"
"Air Force Captain. We're so proud of him."
"It's amazing, defending the country."
To my surprise, the door swung open and Maud walked towards us.She was twenty years younger than the judge, but her illness made her look older.She has no makeup on and is fatter than the last time I saw her.I suspect that her problem is not with her body but with her heart.
"Hello, doctor," she said politely.Maybe she thought I was called by the judge to see her.
"How are you feeling, Maud?"
"It's better, at least I can stand up and walk."
Judge Hastings looked as surprised as I was at his wife's unexpected appearance: "My dear, I think you'd better go back to rest now."
"I've been resting for the whole summer, and I'm almost suffocated. I want to come out to get some air."
"Not much fun out there, but Sam and his wife happen to live next door to us."
She took one look at our house and said, "Suicide House?"
"We didn't know about it when we rented it," I told her.
Judge Hastings cleared his throat and said, "We were here last summer when the young woman committed suicide by taking a lot of sleeping pills. After her husband died in the field, she couldn't live alone. gone."
"How did the first old man die?" I asked.
"Using a gun. The scene was so horrible that the owner had to hire someone to completely clean the house of blood and repaint the living room."
"Is there anything suspicious about the two deaths?" I asked, which had become my habit.
"Sergeant Lens made inquiries both times, but the door was locked from the inside and the latch was lowered."
"Where are the windows?"
"Same. Don't worry about it, Sam. If there is any doubt, the sheriff will not fail to tell you."
While talking, I saw a familiar figure appear on the shore of the rocky lake.That's my friend I just made last week, Jerry Raspin.The woman next to him must be his wife.At this time, he also saw us in the porch, so he changed his course and walked this way.He nodded at me first, and then greeted the judge's wife: "Nice to meet again, Maud, are you feeling better?"
"Much better, thanks."
"It's such a pleasant weather, whatever the hell is wrong," he said, and then he introduced the woman next to me, "Dr. Hawthorne, this is my wife, Susan."
I smiled and shook her hand. "I think we met at a hospital banquet a few years ago."
She was big enough to compete with her husband, and they were a social couple in the local area, which Annabelle and I couldn't even imagine.
The postman for the resort was a little man named Kerry Forbes, and he was at Mrs. Spring's cottage next door.Since letters in this area were usually delivered to a row of letterboxes along the road, he might have something special to deliver directly to Mrs. Spring.
He started knocking on the door, but there was no answer.
"I'd better see if I can help Kerry," I said.
Hearing my footsteps, he turned around: "I have something to give to Mrs. Spring, do you know where she went?"
"I just met her not long ago, Kerry. She may just be in town, why don't you store things with me temporarily?"
"That won't work. It needs to be signed by the addressee. But thank you, Dr. Hawthorne. I'll come back later."
"I saw her yesterday," said Susan Raspian, seeing that I had returned without success, "but I didn't speak to her. She was going to drive out, and she looked preoccupied."
We chatted a little more about the weather and the beauty of Lake Chester, and the Raspians took their leave, and I got up to leave.It is not known what ailment Maud Hastings suffered, but it seems to be doing well.
The next day, Tuesday, President Roosevelt announced that he would be running for a fourth term, a move that drew further dissatisfaction from the opposition, who believed that the president's re-election should be limited.But he has the support of the entire United States behind him, and no one believes that New York Mayor Devi has the ability to defeat Roosevelt.
Annabelle's assistant had just called her in an emergency. An elderly widow had a dozen cats, all of which were malnourished.
"I have to go to the clinic to help her. It will be fine in an hour or two." She said while holding the old Buick's key and walked out the door. "I will be back as soon as possible."
"Go early and come back early! I don't want my son to be born in a veterinary clinic."
Shortly after noon, Mrs. Spring appeared at the door of our cottage, looking for someone.
"I'm at home," I said, and opened the door. "My wife is at the clinic."
"Is the postman looking for me?" she asked.
"Kerry Forbes? He had a package he wanted to sign for you yesterday, but you weren't home, and he said he'd be back."
"Oh, I must have been in the grocery store then, that's a coincidence."
"Maybe he will come over today, but I haven't seen him yet. Why don't you come in?" I invited her into the room for a cup of tea, and she readily agreed.
"You are so kind," she said gratefully as she watched me pour boiling water into a cup with tea bags in it. "Just call me Grace. This feels like an old lady's lonely tea time. My husband is dead, so everyone sympathizes with me."
"Did he die on the battlefield?"
"Not so heroic. He got cancer in prison. He drank too much and killed a little girl with his car."
"I'm so sorry for reminding you of the past..."
"It's okay. I'm stronger than the woman who committed suicide last year."
"that would be great."
"The tea you make tastes really good."
I smiled and said, "I wanted to entertain you with beer, but unfortunately there seems to be no more."
As we chatted, I mentioned to her about my visit to Judge Hastings yesterday: "His wife was obviously unwell, but she is better now. She went out on the porch and chatted with us for a while."
"Maud always creates something out of nothing. She is as healthy as you and me. She just does it to make her husband care about her." She hesitated for a moment, then went on. Peeking in from the window of the cottage."
"Why?"
Grace sighed, "Maybe she thought I was trying to get close to the judge."
"This……"
"This is nonsense, you know I behave."
"Well, I believe you."
At this time, the phone in the kitchen rang, and I went to pick up the receiver. It was Annabelle, and she told me that I had to work on the "Ark" for another hour.
"Are you healthy?" I asked.
"No problem, I'll be back within an hour."
"Okay, we can go out to dinner together."
Annabelle and I chatted for a while, and Grace Spring, presumably getting impatient, called out from the living room, "I have to go, thank you for the tea."
Before I could say goodbye, I heard the screen door open and close. She must have gone away.
Annabelle arrived home just after five, looking a little tired.
"Would you like to rest for a while?" I asked.
"No, I'm so hungry I don't have energy to make dinner."
"That's easy. Let's drive to Marx's Steakhouse. Haven't seen him for weeks."
"Good idea, he always has delicious food that makes my index finger move, call him to reserve a seat."
It was a little cold at night, so I decided to put on my coat and go out.While Annabelle was changing, I locked and bolted the front door and checked all the windows, because Sheriff Lens had warned me that there were thieves in the neighborhood.As we were leaving by the back door, she found the cups and saucers in the sink.
"What is this? Are you having afternoon tea with someone while I'm away?"
I chuckled: "I forgot to tell you, Grace Spring is here as a guest in the afternoon, and we'll have tea together. It's not easy for her..."
After locking the back door, we left.Along the way, I reported to her about Grace's visit.
"Hmph, you're calling people by their names."
"Haha, Grace Spring is my secret lover."
"Who knows what's going to happen. There are always stories in the summer cabin."
"Our hut is a typical example, people like to run and kill themselves in it."
I turned into the parking area of the steakhouse, and as usual Max greeted us on arrival and asked if we wanted wine—as regulars, we got a free bottle every time.Annabelle declined due to her physical condition, and I only wanted a glass.It was a pleasant dinner, but Annabelle needed to rest early, so we left a little earlier than usual.Before heading home, we checked the mail box on the side of the road to see if there was any mail, and by the time we got back to Chester Lake, it was already dark.I parked behind the cabin and helped Annabelle down.When I got outside the back door, I put the key in the lock and turned it, but the door didn't open.
"Is this door broken?" I said to myself.
"It must be on the latch."
"There's no one inside, how is that possible?"
We had to go around to the front door, but the result was the same. "I remember when I left, I did lock the front door," I said, "but the back door is impossible. No one was in the room when we left."
Because the lights were not turned on in the room, we couldn't see what was going on inside.I went back to the car and got the flashlight from the little compartment next to the driver's seat.A flashlight illuminated the kitchen, but nothing out of the ordinary.I went outside a window in the living room again, and Annabelle followed me, but I was sent back to the car and locked the door tightly.I have a strong bad feeling.
I surveyed the living room by the light of the flashlight, then turned off the flashlight and walked quickly to the next door—Jerry Raspin's house was lit.
"Can I use your phone?" I asked as soon as Susan opened the door, "It's urgent."
"Of course." She looked a little confused.
"What happened?" Jerry asked, but I ignored him.
I got the operator to put the sheriff on, and when I got through, I said quickly, "I'm at the summer house. You'd better come over here, it's locked, but I saw Grace Spring through the window." Inside, she hangs from hooks in the ceiling."
Behind me I heard Susan Raspian screaming.
Fifteen minutes later, Chief Lan Si and his two men arrived at the scene.
"How's it going, doctor?" he asked gravely.
"I checked both doors and all the windows, and they were all locked from the inside. I think it's best left to you to break the doors. Judging by the angle of her neck, she's not going to survive."
"Another suicide?"
"That's exactly what we need to investigate, the question is how did she get in?"
The sheriff broke the glass on the kitchen door and pulled the latch, and I opened it with the key.Annabelle got out of the car and came to me, but I had no intention of letting her in.Once in the living room, I turned on the light to make sure Mrs. Spring was dead.
"Very likely died an hour ago," I surmised.
I provided the sheriff with a schedule of our departure and return, and reported the fact that the deceased had visited in the afternoon.Her used teacup was still lying in the sink.
"There's no one in the room." An adjutant reported to the sheriff when he had finished searching the cabin.He didn't even miss the small space behind the sink, removing the folding ladder I had left there and examining it.
Sergeant Lens looked around, and his eyes finally fell on a high stool. The dead man's still dangling legs were just three feet above the stool. "Take pictures first, and we'll put her down when we're done. Don't forget to take fingerprints on the doorknob and latch. I hope I didn't mess up the original traces." After ordering his subordinates, he began to ask for my opinion again, "What do you think, doctor?"
"If the murderer intends to fake the suicide scene, it will be a failure. The rope is something in the kitchen. Even if she is standing on a chair, it is not high enough to wrap the rope around her neck. In addition, when we chatted in the afternoon, she also talked with I said I would never commit suicide like the widow did last year."
"But you locked the door, how did she get in? If murder, how did the murderer get out?"
"I don't think there's a secret passage in the basement of this house," I said.
"Damn, doctor, these cabins don't even have basements."
I checked the locks carefully. They were all the latest Yale locks. Each key was unique. Sheriff Lens assured me that no other key would be able to open my door.Every window was equally scrupulously investigated, and found neither cracks nor evidence of broken latches.Naturally I turned my attention to the fireplace again, but the flue was only small enough for a squirrel to get through.I know there are some latches that can be pulled on from the outside with string or fishing line, but the shed door doesn't have a crack between the door frame and that trick is impossible.I've even considered a self-locking mechanism: something that creates some sort of pull-wire mechanism by hanging the corpse so that the latch is pushed into its slot.The problem was that no silk thread was found at the scene, and the latch of the hut was a bit tight.
"No way." I said discouragedly.
"Come on, doctor," the sheriff scolded me angrily, "you've solved far better cases than this one."
"Maybe it will be clearer if you come to the scene during the day."
As I looked around, Grace Spring's body had been lowered and handed over to the coroner.I didn't go to the next house to pick up Annabelle until the police were gone.
"Would you like to stay here tonight?" I asked, "or do you want to go home and sleep?"
"It's okay, it's fine here."
"When I called the sheriff to report the situation, Susan Raspian was screaming at the top of her lungs, and she seemed very shocked by the news."
Annabelle nodded: "She hasn't recovered yet. The two of them are obviously close. According to her, someone has been sending threatening letters to Grace, trying to blackmail her."
"That's interesting," I said, thinking it was a small clue, "but the detective novelist Raymond Chandler said that blackmailers don't kill people. They don't usually kill the goose that lays the golden eggs."
"What did a woman like Mrs. Spring do to get caught?"
"I reckon it must be something of a mystery. She told me her husband was arrested for DUI and died in jail."
I double-checked all the doors and windows to make sure it was safe for the rest of the night.But I can't sleep because I have something on my mind. I keep thinking about Annabelle who is sleeping next to me, and about the child who will come to this world in a week's time.Maybe Suicide Lodge wasn't a good option for us.
I got up before eight o'clock in the morning.After walking around the cabin, I passed the kitchen and went to the bathroom to take a shower.After a while, Annabelle got up too.While I was making breakfast, she mused, "Maybe we should sleep at home. Even though you didn't let me see the scene, all I could think about was the hanging woman hanging from the ceiling." .I think the house is really cursed."
"This is not suicide, she was killed by someone."
"Aren't all the doors and windows locked?"
"She got in somehow. Since she can get in, the murderer can get out."
Not long after nine o'clock, Sergeant Lan Si came to the cabin. He seemed to have stayed up all night.
"The preliminary autopsy results have come out, and the doctor is now conducting further analysis, but it is certain that the deceased's throat has other people's fingerprints. She was strangled to death and then hung up."
"It's scary!" Annabelle's voice trembled slightly because she felt sad for the deceased, "Why did the murderer choose this room to attack? Is it because it is a well-known suicide spot?"
"That must be it," and I told the sheriff yesterday's discovery, "that Susan Rasppin next door says Grace may be being blackmailed."
"Her husband was sentenced for drunk driving a few years ago, but some said he was punished on behalf of his wife. He died in prison."
"Yesterday she also mentioned to me about her husband. She should have told Susan Raspian about being blackmailed."
"I'm going to pull up the records and take a good look, doctor, are you two still here?"
"Not going for now."
After the Sheriff left, I saw Judge Hastings coming towards us from his house: "Sam, any news from the Sheriff?"
"Very limited. The deceased was first strangled to death and then hung from the ceiling. This is definitely not suicide."
We sat down on the porch and discussed the case briefly, Annabelle alone in the room.
"If there's a murderer hiding around here, none of us will be safe," he said.
"What do you think about the blackmail? Could it have anything to do with her husband's accident?"
He rubbed his pointed chin and thought for a while: "This case happened to be tried by me. Some people suspected that the driver was actually the wife instead of the husband, but he insisted that he did it himself. We have no choice but to accept him. In that accident, a girl died, so he was going to jail. We found out later that he knew he had cancer and was going to die. Maybe that's why he was willing to take the blame. "
A postman with a leather bag passed us, stopped and asked, "Do your letters go directly to the cottage?"
The judge shook his head and said, "There's a row of mailboxes across the road. You must be new here. Where's Kerry Forbes?"
"He asked for sick leave this morning, and all of us are here, why don't I just give you the letter directly."
Judge Hastings had a dozen letters, and Annabelle and I had only one bill from Lincoln Jones--I had him send it to this address.
"I think I'd better go back and be with Maud," the judge said. "She's not doing well today."
"Do you need me to go and have a look?"
"No, no. It's just—"
"menopause?"
"Yes, menopause can be troublesome for some women, and Maude is one of them..."
"A new drug has been released recently, which may be useful. You ask her to call my office and make an appointment with Aibo. I can check it for her at any time, as long as she wants."
"Thank you so much, Sam."
After he left, I went back to the room.Annabelle was sitting in a large comfortable chair when the phone rang.Somehow, the phone cords got tangled up in a mess and it took me a while to get it right.It turned out to be Sheriff Lens on the phone, and he said, "Doctor, I don't have much on file with Grace Spring, I'm trying to investigate the parents of the girl who died in the car accident, but they live in Chicago. Happened They happened to be here to visit his wife's brother when the car accident happened."
I mostly didn't listen to the sheriff because the phone line had my full attention, and I tried to remember the last time I used the phone: it must have been when I called Marx's Steakhouse to make a reservation. "Sheriff," I said quietly, "I think you'd better come."
"Who is it?" Annabelle followed me to the porch.
"Sheriff Lan Si, he found something new about the deceased, I suggest he come here."
"Have you any ideas?"
"almost."
I naturally shifted the conversation to the weather.For example, "What a cloudless sky", "What a warm temperature" and so on.She is due soon and I definitely don't want to make her feel insecure or afraid at this time.The sheriff pulled up behind the cabin, and I suggested that Annabelle go play next door, just as Susan Raspian was on the porch to get some air.
"What's the matter, Sam?" my wife asked sensitively. "Why did you send me away?"
"No, I just think it's good for you to sit in the past."
"I won't go." She flatly rejected my suggestion, sometimes she was very stubborn.
Sergeant Len Si came in through the back door in the kitchen, his face full of expectation.
"Doctor, you figured it out, didn't you?"
"Well, it shouldn't be wrong."
"Great, tell us!" my wife urged. "Why are you so nervous?"
"Well," I began, "I think that the fact that Grace Spring did not commit suicide need not be repeated. We have also proved that the murderer could not leave the scene after killing. I think Sherlock Holmes once said that , when all the impossibilities are eliminated, whatever remains, no matter how incredible, must be the truth.”
"What do you want to say, doctor?"
"The murderer is still there, because no one can escape through the locked doors and windows. So he is still here."
"It's impossible..." As he said, the sheriff instinctively reached for the gun.
"Isn't it possible? The first mistake I made was to make it the primary question of how Grace Spring got into the room. When I was on the phone with Annabelle yesterday afternoon, I heard the sound of the screen door opening and closing. So I took it for granted that she left. This morning, I noticed a strange tangle in the phone cord, suggesting that someone had used the phone after Annabelle and I had left. That's when I began to suspect that Grace wasn't there at all. Get out of our room. She hides here and calls the killer after we leave. She hears us talking on the phone about going out to dinner and realizes this suicide lodge is the perfect stage for her plan."
"what's the plan?"
"She was going to kill her blackmailer and pretended to commit suicide."
"But where can she hide?" Annabelle asked, "This room is not spacious. Even the small space behind the sink has a ladder, so it can't hide from people."
"She's a little woman. She just half-opens the folding bed in the living room and gets in. It won't take her long." The other two looked towards the sofa, and I continued, "As soon as we leave , she called the blackmailer, maybe she wanted to pay. Anyway, she made up some reasons and asked him to come here to meet. During the waiting period, she probably returned to herself through the back door The room to get the weapon. When the other party arrived, she had it ready, most likely a gun, because it was the best option for faking suicide."
"Didn't you say the blackmailer was the murderer?" asked the sheriff. "Why didn't she shoot him since she had a gun?"
"They must have had a fight over a verbal lapse, and in the process he strangled her. When he realized what had been done wrong, he hung her body from a hook in the ceiling, hoping we wouldn't find out. fingerprints on his neck, and the spell of Suicide Shack will continue."
“这么说来，凶手完事后也躲在沙发床里面？他现在还在吗？”
“我正要说下去呢，他认为我们肯定不会在发生惨剧的小屋里过夜，一旦自杀的假说得到确认，他要做的只是简简单单地从后门踱出屋去。他哪里能想到我们昨天晚上居然留在这里过夜。因此他现在还在这里。”
话音未落，蓝思警长已走过去掀开沙发。他可能是认为我的想法太离谱，所以甚至没意识到如果我的推理无误，凶手此刻正拿着葛瑞斯的手枪虎视眈眈……折叠床被打开了，凶手顿时暴露在我们面前，他用枪对准了我，说时迟，那时快，安娜贝尔干了她这辈子最疯狂的事——她像头愤怒的狮子冲了上去。
我们的孩子啊……
山姆医生讲完了他的故事，恰好杯中的酒也喝光了。他看着对面的倾听者的眼睛，说道：“你就是那天晚上出生的——早产一周，沙曼莎。”
“你还没说凶手是谁呢！”
“当然是我们的邮差，克里·福布斯。他体形和葛瑞斯·斯普林相仿，可以轻易躲进沙发床。那天早上，他甚至从沙发里溜下来用我们房间的电话打到公司请病假。问题是，他又不能一走了之，那样我们会发现门闩被人抬起来了，进而想到有人藏在房间里。他其实是车祸中丧生的女孩的舅舅，他十分肯定葛瑞斯才是肇事司机。开始的时候，她可能出于良心不安而付了一些钱，但是后来她还是决定杀人灭口。我们出去吃晚饭后，她握着枪，好整以暇地将他诱到这里，可大部分邮递员胳膊都很有力气，他从她手中把枪夺了下来，并在扭打中掐死了对方。然后他找到绳子，绑在死者脖子上，借此掩盖淤痕，再踩着厨房里的梯子把尸体挂在天花板的钩子上。一切都布置完成后，他忽然后知后觉地发现死者需要站在某样支撑物上才显得真实，于是他找来了高脚凳，可是在一片漆黑中他忽略了凳子的高度仍然太矮。”
沙曼莎不解地摇着头说：“妈妈那么做不是找死吗？连我的小命都搭上了！”
“所以我们从来没有跟你提起过当年的这个故事。你还要再来一杯威士忌吗？”
她撩开额前黑色的长发，露出一对迷人的眼睛，笑着说：“不啦，妈妈和我的孩子们还在等咱们呢。”
Notes:
Notes: