"I remember I promised you last time that when you come this time, I will tell you about my parents visiting me in Beishan Township." Dr. Sam Hawthorne said, pouring brandy, "It was the autumn of 1930, The deer hunting season had just begun. I was thirty-four years old at the time, and I had been practicing in North Hills for eight years. North Hills felt more at home to me than the Midwestern cities where I was born and raised. It's not easy to explain clearly to father..." I used to hunt with my father when I was a kid, so it was only natural that my father, Harry Hawthorne, would want to visit his son in New England when he retired and hunt deer along the way.My father had just retired after forty years of hard work in a profitable textile store.His mother walked with him.Of course, I welcome both.I haven't been home since last Christmas after attending Sheriff Lens' wedding.Since I have been in Beishan Town for eight years, this is also the second time my parents have visited me.

I went to the station to meet them and help my father with his luggage. "We'll only stay for five days, not the month we had agreed upon," my father grumbled. "You know your mother doesn't feel well when she's out." His hair was all gray, but it was thick enough.Moreover, he has the energy of a young man.My mother, on the contrary, was always ill. I took them to my new Stutz car, and my father muttered with satisfaction: "Your clinic's business should be very good, you can afford such a good car." "It's just a used car," I said, "a doctor sold it to me at a low price because he was desperate for money."

"What happened to your graduation gift, we heard, and I'm sorry," my mother said, taking the front seat. "Yeah, burnt out. I was lucky I wasn't in the car." I closed the door for her and walked around to the driver's seat. We went to the clinic first, and I took them in: "Mom, this is my nurse, Aibo. As I always tell you, she has been a great help." It was the first time for Aibo to meet my parents, and she was warm and polite to them.Just as we were about to leave, Sergeant Lan Si came.He shook my father's hand firmly: "To tell you the truth, Mr. Hawthorne, your son can make a very good detective. He has helped me solve so many cases that I can't even count them."

"Oh?" My mother was taken aback, "Sheriff, the local crime rate is high?" "It's higher than you think." There was a trace of pride in his voice, "Fortunately, there is a smart person like a doctor. His brain is as smart as that guy Einstein!" "We have to go." As usual, I was a little embarrassed by Sergeant Lansi's praise. "What are you going to do in this town?" he asked my father. "Oh, maybe go deer hunting." "The weather is fine." "I have a pen pal living nearby," my father said. "His name is Radell Sexton. I'm thinking of driving over to see him someday."

"Oh, Sexton loves hunting! You should see his weapon collection!" "I'm looking forward to it. He mentioned it in his letter." Sergeant Lan Si licked his lips: "I'll give you some advice. Go see Radell Sexton immediately, just today or tomorrow. Maybe he will invite you to hunt in his forest. He owns a forest and There's a pond that's the best deer hunting in the county. He even built a hunting lodge right by the pond. Duck hunting is easy, too." "Thanks for the reminder," my father said. "See you later, Sheriff." I would have liked to spend a quiet evening with them.But Dad, on the advice of Sheriff Lens, insisted that I call Sexton as soon as possible after dinner.I don't know that person very well.However, after the father changed to answer the phone, the people on both ends of the phone were obviously very excited, looking forward to seeing him soon.According to the results of their discussion, I promised to drive my parents to Sexton's house early tomorrow morning.

"I have a patient at nine o'clock," I said to my parents as I made the bed in the guest room. "I'll pick you up around ten o'clock. It's about a twenty-minute drive to Sexton's house." Redell Sikeston was the last old landed baron in the county, if "baron" could be used around this town in New England.There are three hundred acres of land under his name.Of course, some farms are that big.But Radell Sexton was no farmer, not even a gentleman among them.During the war, he made money by reselling arms.Although he is no longer associated with Sexton Arms Empire, the company still bears his name.

The next morning was a fine day, one of the rarest in mid-November.I drove the bumpy country roads, pointing out farmsteads and road signs along the way. "Just inside this fence is Sexton's land," I said. "That's big enough," my mother said, "Harry, you're always going to be with rich people." My father immediately retorted angrily: "I saw his letter in "American Gunner" magazine, and I wrote to contact him. I didn't know if he had money. Besides, I never knew that he had anything to do with Sykes." It has something to do with the Dayton Arms Company."

"He bought the land after he sold the business a few years ago," I said. "Sometimes he lives in Florida and New York, but he always comes back to town when it's hunting season. The chief told me that he collected a lot of ancient weapons." Radell Sexton himself greeted us at the door.He wore a fringed buckskin jacket and breeches, and was tall, ruddy, and dignified.His hair, cut close to his scalp, was graying.Seeing him with his dad somehow reminded me of a reunion of World War I veterans.I knew, of course, that Sexton was busy making his fortune in the home field during the war, while my father only worked at the home recruiting bureau.

Sexton nodded casually at me.He seemed genuinely happy to see my dad, though. "I look forward to hearing from you every day, Harry. Your letter has more to say than most of the papers. This must be Dorothy," he said to my mother. "Welcome to North Hills, Two, please come in, please come in quickly!" I never met Sexton's family.A young lady appeared before us holding a bouquet of flowers.Sexton introduced that it was his wife.I was taken aback. "There's a frost tonight," she said, "so I've got to pick the flowers off quickly." Her name is Rosemary.Sexton was about sixty years old, and his wife appeared to be thirty years his junior.She was probably Sexton's second wife, and she was charming and kind.I tried my best to remember whether I had seen her in the town, and after thinking about it for a long time, it seemed that I had never seen her.This is not surprising, after all, Sexton does not live in this town for a long time in a year.

"How about deer hunting around here?" my father asked as we sat in the wood-panelled living room, huddled around the firelight. "I want to hunt while I come over to play." "It's just the right time," said Radell Sexton. "It's just the right time. Actually, I've got a couple of guys to go hunting with tomorrow morning. You can join us if you want. We're right here in the field, There's activity over the pond. I've got nearly three hundred acres, most of it covered with woods. I've built a hunting lodge over there." "Thank you for your kind invitation." Father smiled and accepted the invitation happily.

"You're welcome, too, Sam." Sexton obviously came with the invitation, "Your mother can come too, and she can stay at home with Rosemary when we go hunting." I mumbled that I had to see patients, but I knew I could manage it.I'd love to be able to hunt with Dad again, as we did all those years ago.Even the thought of slaughtering a fawn makes me a little sick. "What time do you start?" Sexton thought for a while: "It's very early. If possible, you'd better come at seven o'clock. My neighbor, Jem Freeman, and Bill Tracy from the town are also with me. I probably will Sergeant Lan Si, please. There are six people in the group." Bill Tracey was a real estate agent who had done business with Sexton.Jem Freeman was a successful farmer.I knew both of them very well and had recently seen Freeman's youngest daughter.It's not a big deal, it's just a little ailment that children often get. "We'll be there," my father said to Sexton. "Now, how about we take a look at your collection? I'm already itching." Radell Sexton laughed and led us into the next room.The entire two walls are almost covered with glass display cases.There are a lot of beautiful things in the cabinet, most of which are wooden handle weapons.Our host quickly introduced them one by one: "I have been collecting ancient weapons for many years. Although we only live here for a few months a year, I think this kind of collection is suitable for local storage. This rope-like thing is a throwing stone. Put the stone in the small bag above, lift it up and throw it around your head, and the stone will fly out. The shepherd David used it to kill the giant Goliath. This is an Indian slingshot, with two rubber bands fixed in the middle box." "That's unusual," my father whispered. "I've never seen anything like it." "These javelins are used by Aboriginal Australians. Of course, you should be familiar with boomerangs. These are darts, javelins and throwing shuttles. Jem Freeman next door can tell you that in the Great War, he The story of how to throw a dart from an airplane." "Look, this wooden javelin thrower is from South Africa. Put the point in the hole and the handle works just as well as it attaches to your arm. The harpoons used by the Eskimos have a similar device. Then, see the Patago The hammer used by the Nians, with three balls attached to a handle by a belt, is mainly used to strangle prey." I walked to another showcase first: "The age of these swords seems to be relatively recent." "Those are the ceremonial swords used by the natives of the western Pacific islands," Sexton said. "Look at this stick. The edge is ground like a shark's tooth. It's deadly. I use it sometimes to kill wounded deer. See these shields made of coconut shells? From the same region.” Had his wife not interrupted, he might still have been talking on and on for half an hour. "Isn't that Jennifer?" Rosemary exclaimed.I saw a young woman in her twenties outside the window, pushing a bicycle by. "Come," said Mrs Sexton to us, "I'll introduce you to my sister." We all followed her into the yard.Her younger sister is being introduced by her older sister while parking her bicycle in the vacant chicken coop. "Jennifer, these are Harry and Dorothy Hawthorne, and this is their son, Dr. Sam Hawthorne, who practices in this town. Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne are visiting their son this week. Harry is Radell friend." Jennifer seemed very happy to see us: "Rosemary insisted on letting me stay with them for a month. I'm so happy to see a few more people. I think, after staying in New York for a long time, I'm naturally used to life in a big city. " "You're good at bicycles," I said. "Raeder forbids me to ride into the woods. He is afraid that I will be mistaken for a deer by the hunters." She pouted beautifully. "Will you mistake me for a deer?" she asked me. "Maybe," I admitted. We were about to say goodbye when Jem Freeman from the farm next door arrived.He came across the field toward the main house, a heavy build.I always thought he was more of a wrestler than a farmer. "The forecast says a little snow tonight," he said to Radell Sexton. "You'd better turn on the water before it freezes." Sexton nodded: "I think you're right." He turned to my father and explained, "I prepared a water storage tank in the hut with some water, which is convenient for making coffee, making drinks, and washing dishes. You can also flush the toilet." "It's as comfortable as home," my mother said dryly.She had never been much of a fan of hunting.I still remember when I was a child, she would complain for a long time after my father took me to shoot pheasants on Sunday afternoons. A hundred yards or so of hose was looped around the big bucket at the back of the barn.Radell Sexton took one end, took it by the hand, and led us to the hunting lodge. "I'll take you to see where the activities will take place tomorrow morning," he said. "I'll keep the tap running all night so the water in the water tank won't freeze." He turned to his neighbor and said, "Tomorrow morning, Jem, there will be six of us. Harry and Sam will be here too. I'd like to have Sergeant Lens." "Great." We walked through two large oak trees and over the top of the hill.At our feet, about fifty yards or so, there was a rough hut built of logs, with several whole tree trunks lining the roof.The cottage is located by the pond and stands quietly in the morning sun.Sexton tugged at the hose and dragged it across a patch of low grass downhill.The water pipes are not much thicker than those used for watering flowers, but local farmers often buy hundreds of yards to irrigate their fields. The inside of the hunting lodge is larger than it looks from the outside.Could easily accommodate our group.Rosemary Sexton and sister Jennifer also came, and Sexton, Freeman, my parents and me, there were seven people in all.The ceiling is low, but I can stand up and walk around without bending over.The cabin has field cookers, rough chairs, a table and even a small freezer for storing food and drinks.On a shelf by the wall, fixed a metal tank filled with water.Sexton lowered the hose into the tank. "This thing holds thirty gallons of water—about the size of a normal barrel," he said to my father. "The pipe goes in through the tank. I turn on the pump over there, and it's just enough to hold the water overnight. Of course, the water is turned on a little less. Excess water is drained into the pond." "There are quite a few holes in this wall," I said. "They're all gun holes, Sam," my father answered first. "Isn't it, Raedel?" "Of course! Tomorrow morning we'll leave a few here waiting, and the others will drive the deer this way. Then we'll go through the holes and shoot the game as it crosses the flat." "What a great idea!" my father said eagerly. "I knew it," my mother murmured. Jennifer whispered, "So, you and I are in charge of cooking the prey, Rosemary." Mrs. Sikeston snorted: "That also requires them to hunt the deer. I bet the deer will escape." Then we walked slowly back up the hill and watched as Sexton turned on the pump and the water trickled through the pipes to the humble hunting lodge.Freeman then walked to his farm.I also took my parents back to the car. "Seven o'clock tomorrow morning, don't forget," Radell Sexton called after us. At dinner that night, my mother admitted that the Raeders were nice people. "Compared to the average deer hunter," she added. Father couldn't help laughing. "I don't think Mrs. Sikeston hunts at all, Dorothy. Don't mix them up." "I've got to go back to the clinic," I said, "to see if Abby left me a message." "Go ahead." Mother began to clear the dishes. "Your father and I have to go to bed early anyway, and tomorrow we will wake up as early as chickens." "Earlier than chickens, Dorothy," my father corrected. I drove back to the office to find only one important message.There was an accident on a farm that put one of my patients in the hospital.I drove to Saints Memorial Hospital to see him.As I was leaving the hospital, I bumped into Bill Tracy.Bill was always well-dressed and his shirt collars were ironed.He looked more like a banker than a real estate developer.I didn't know that he also hunted before, so I mentioned it to him. "Sam, I can hunt no more than you can. Why, you want to go too?" "My parents just came to visit me. Dad is Sexton's pen pal. Sexton invited us to join. We also went to his house this morning. It's a nice place." "Is his sister-in-law here?" "You mean Jennifer? Yes, she's there too. The girl is lovely." Bill Tracey tugged at his stiff collar: "I thought I saw her at Freeman's when I drove by last week. But I'm not sure. It could be Mrs. Sexton. They looks alike." "It doesn't look like it up close. Maybe it's one of the Freemans' daughters you see." "No. I recognized Jennifer's bike, parked next to the house." He winked at me. "She told me she was tired of living in the country." "She said something similar when she met us today," I said. "Well, see you tomorrow morning, Sam. Keep your eyes open, maybe you'll see something more interesting than a deer." Until I got home, I still thought about what he said.Upon entering, I found my mother sitting by the window with a cup of hot chocolate. "I need to relax before I go to bed," she said, "but your father doesn't. He's already snoring like a thunderbolt." "How is Father, Mother?" I asked, sitting on the couch next to her. "Not bad for his age. He went to the doctor last week with heart palpitations. Be careful hunting tomorrow, Sam." "certainly." She took a sip of hot chocolate and sighed: "I never liked him hunting. And I don't like you following him either!" "I haven't hunted in twenty years--with him. The only reason I'll go tomorrow is because he wants me to." "Sam, he'll always think of you as his little baby." "I will indeed always be his little darling, and your little darling." "No, no," she shook her head. "You're an adult. You should start a family." "I know, mother." "Last Christmas, when you wrote about your wedding, I thought you were talking about your own." "It's Sergeant Lens. He's much older than me." "Don't let time slip by, Sam. Don't be busy with doctors and detectives. One day, you wake up suddenly and find yourself a lonely old man, an old man with no one to love." "Hey," I laughed, "don't be so serious! Come on, we should all go to bed. I set the alarm for 5:30." "Okay," she kissed my cheek, "but think about what I told you." After that, I lay in bed and couldn't fall asleep for a long time.Listening to the snoring from the next room, I couldn't help but wonder if my mother had no one to love her too. The next morning, I was woken up by the alarm clock.Slept well all night with no dreams at all.I looked out the window, and there was already a thin layer of snow.It was still dark, and I heard my parents going in and out of the bathroom, getting dressed. "Good morning," I called out, "Half an inch of snow fell last night." "It's perfect for tracking deer tracks!" Father was excited. "Of course! I'm going to prepare breakfast." An hour later we set off for the Sextons' house, and there was no one on the road.There were only a few ruts in the white snow, and as we turned onto Sexton's private lane, I realized that one of those ruts belonged to Sheriff Lens.He got there before us.At this time, the sun has risen.Sergeant Lens was leaning against the car, with a shotgun beside him, chatting with Sexton and Jem Freeman. "It's snowing, that's great!" Radell Sexton said after greeting us. "The deer won't get away this time!" Jennifer came out of the room with enough sandwiches for everyone.Rosemary Sexton hurried after her to greet my mother: "Come inside, please. It's warm—and safe." Just then another car pulled up behind my Stutz.Bill Tracey got out of the car, the shotgun in a fancy leather holster. "Good morning everyone!" I introduced him to my parents.He took a sandwich from Jennifer.Then, Sexton began to give orders: "Use the hunting lodge as the center, form a semicircle. Stay farther away from each other, and you can cover a larger area. Then, slowly gather towards the lodge, and drive the prey towards the lodge. Sam, you How about staying with me in the cabin?" I remembered that I promised my mother last night to take care of my father. "If it's convenient, I still want to stay outside." Redell Sexton shrugged: "Okay then. I'll stay in the house alone and use the prey as a target. If there are five people outside, the search area will be wider." We staggered across the snow to the pump house and turned off the taps that had been running since last night. "Jem, you stay here until I take that pipe off, and put it back on the plate for me. I don't want anyone tripping over the pipe, tripping, and scaring away the prey." Freeman stayed as promised, and the others walked towards the hut.Jennifer, dressed only in a sweater and light coat, and men's overalls, joined Sexton at the front. "Are you hunting too?" I asked aloud. "I don't think they will." Sheriff Lance and I walked side by side, Bill Tracey and my father last. "How is your wife, Sheriff?" "She's fine, doctor. But I'd better take some pieces of venison home tonight. Otherwise, she won't forgive me for disappearing all day." "Damn it," Sexton cursed ahead of us, "I forgot about that." He gave Jennifer a few instructions, and then, pausing on the hillside overlooking the hunting lodge, "Also, Jennifer, on the way back, tell Jem to put the hose up as soon as I give the signal." "Of course," she said, starting to walk back. "I like your boots." I looked at the brand new leather with admiration and said sincerely. "Bought it in New York. Show you the sole pattern!" He lifted his foot to show me the sole.At this time, he finally noticed my shotgun.It was an old Winchester repeating shotgun. "Let me tell you the truth, Sam, it ain't fit for deer hunting. If you want a replacement, I've got a spare." "No, no, that's fine for me. When you need a fatal shot, let Dad do it." "Well, if you insist," he said, turning to Dad, Bill Tracey, and the sheriff, "look, this little hill blocks the main house from stray bullets over there. But, even In this way, everyone try not to shoot in this direction. The rifle has a long range, and I don’t want the windows of the main house to be smashed, and I don’t want to be shot in the house.” Speaking of the last sentence, he joked.Then we waited at the top of the slope and watched him walk across the flat snow towards the cabin.With the shotgun in his right hand and the sandwich Jennifer made in his left, he stepped across the pipe and into the cabin. Through the gunhole in the wall of the hut, I saw him pull the hose from the water tank and drop it at the door. "It's ready!" he yelled.I sent word to Jem Freeman at the pump room.Freeman started to turn the winch, and the hose squirmed and squirmed across the snow. When Sexton saw Freeman approaching us, he yelled, "Now, spread out. Watch for deer tracks, and when you spot prey, head towards the cabin. I'll make coffee and wait for you." return!" We spread out.Trish and Freeman headed east, and me, the sheriff, and Dad headed west.I try to keep Dad within sight.As soon as he spotted the deer tracks, I ran to him. "It's a deer, yes," I agreed, "and it doesn't look small." Now, I was right next to him and didn't bother to go back to my original position.Together we tracked the footprints of prey, just like I did when I was a child. He must have thought the same thing: "Yesterday repeats itself, doesn't it?" "Of course, Dad." "Your mother told you about my heart?" "She said, something is wrong with your heart. Are you taking medicine?" "Of course, of course. I will live a long life. After all, my son is a doctor, isn't he?" "I wish I lived nearer to you guys. Thinking about moving East?" "New England? No! We're old Midwesterners. You were too." "I know. It's unlikely I'll be moving back now, though." "I'm not sure. You think life is better here?" "I like being here." "You like a man like Sexton as a patient? A rich man!" "He's not my patient. Remember, he's your friend!" "Your mother thinks his wife is unhappy." "Why?" I lead the way through the woods, following the tracks of my prey. "Oh, and Rosemary Sexton has a bit of a complaint about hunting, and complains that her whole life revolves around her husband. She doesn't sound too happy, Dorothy thinks." "Most women in Beishan Town are willing to change positions with her." Suddenly, on the snow in front of us, there appeared the fresh droppings of prey.My father motioned me to keep my voice down. "Quiet," he whispered, "the prey is not far ahead." We came out of the woods and rounded a clump of bushes, and I saw Sheriff Lenth walking to the left, pointing straight ahead, not visible from our position.Suddenly, the prey appeared two hundred yards ahead, running towards Sexton's cabin. "Look at its horns!" my father exclaimed excitedly. "Maybe there are a dozen forks!" The prey suddenly turned around and rushed towards us.Sergeant Lens raised his shotgun.But the distance is too far to aim.He must have thought of that, and dropped the gun again.The prey turned and ran the other way. "The wind blows past us," my father said. "It must have smelled us." "If Tracy and Freeman were guarding there, it wouldn't be able to escape. It could only flee towards the cabin. Sexton would definitely hit the target." We quickened our pace and began to trot.The pond came into view, followed by the cottage.I saw Freeman come up the other side of the hill, and after a while, Bill Tracy appeared, with his back to the main house.Both saw their prey and raised their shotguns. "Why don't they shoot?" Sergeant Len Si asked, running up to us. "That guy's so close to the cabin that Sexton can kill him easily," my father said.He also raised the shotgun in his hand, but the prey rushed straight forward like an arrow from the string.It crossed the clearing in front of the hut and darted past the hut within twenty yards. There were no gunshots in the cabin. Before we could figure out what was going on, the large prey had moved across the shallow water by the pond and sideways toward Freeman.Freeman turned around, knelt down on one foot, raised his shotgun and fired a quick shot.The bullet hit the water behind the prey.It escaped and disappeared into the woods behind the pond. "Damn, what's going on?" Trish yelled as she rushed down the hill and ran towards us. Freeman also rushed over: "Why didn't Sexton shoot?" "I don't know," replied the father.I do not know either.We all stood there staring at the hunting lodge below us.Radell Sexton's footprints were the only ones leading to the cabin.Smoke was still rising from the chimney, and he had evidently lit a fire and made coffee. My father followed the deer's tracks, walked round to the hut, opened the door and entered. He reappeared almost immediately, calling to me, "Come on, Sam. Something has happened! He's been murdered, I think!" I warned the others to stay put and go find out on their own. Radell Sexton sprawled on the floor in the middle of the cabin, by the dining table.He was face down with blood on the back of his head.Beside him was a shark-toothed club, apparently from his collection of ancient weapons. "He's dead, that's right." I confirmed, "The murder weapon was that thing, and he was killed on the spot." "Who could have done it, Sam?" my father asked. I went to the door and called Sergeant Lan Si: "Commissioner, come here, be careful, don't destroy the footprints." "No footprints at all, Doctor—except Ryder's own. I walked around the cabin. The back toilet is empty, too." I looked towards the pond and confirmed his statement.The side of the cabin was near the pond, still ten yards from the water.Not a trace was left on the snow from the cabin to the water's edge.Trish and Freeman ignored my warning and followed.That's okay, though.Everyone could see that the only footprint leading to the hut was left by the deceased, and he never left after entering.No matter who the murderer is, the method of committing the crime must be remote control. "Someone has to call his wife," said Jem Freeman, looking down at the body. "Who did it?" Trish asked, "Could it be a homeless man passing through the woods?" "A tramp without a track?" I asked rhetorically. "Aside from the dead man's own, there are only deer tracks in the snow. Do you see any other tracks?" Everyone shook their heads, no one saw it.I went out, knelt in the snow, and examined the footprints left by the dead.Then, we went back to the main house together.Sergeant Lan Si was in charge of notifying the hostess of the bad news, while we stood aside with stern faces.Rosemary Sexton stared at us blankly, as if she didn't understand: "Dead? What do you mean dead?" "We heard gunshots," Jennifer said. "Did the shotgun go off?" "He got a blow on the head," I said, "and don't know who did it." Rosemary Sexton suddenly collapsed. Jennifer and Jem Freeman walked her back to her room, and I got a medical kit from the car and gave her a mild sedative.Sergeant Lan Si was already on the phone, and asked the operator to tell the deputy sheriff to send an ambulance over immediately to remove the body. I went back to the living room and walked over to my mother.She was sitting in a chair, looking pale. "What's the matter, Sam?" she asked me. "I'm trying to find out," I said. "Tell me, did those two women leave the house while we were hunting? I mean Mrs. Sikeston or Jennifer." "No," she corrected as soon as she had finished, "at least I didn't see it. Rosemary was baking cakes and was in the kitchen for a while. Jennifer went upstairs for ten minutes. I think they all had a chance to slip." Get out and don't get caught by me." I squeezed her hand reassuringly and went upstairs.Jennifer and Freeman are still with Rosemary.I found another bedroom at the back of the main house, facing the hunting lodge.But there is a big red barn between the main house and the cottage, blocking my view. "You want to understand the murderer's methods?" Someone asked me from behind.It was Jem Freeman. "I know, it seems impossible, but he was dead. I have a good theory that the stick might have been fired through the window, say, by a mortar or something." Freeman came to the window: "This is Jennifer's room. Do you think she did it?" "I don't know either. I'm just checking to see if the angle works." Freeman nodded. "During the war, I served in the French Air Force. They could literally throw darts from planes, and call them darts." "That's what I mean. Darts can be thrown from airplanes, and bows and arrows can be shot into people. Maybe sticks can be fired from mortars." "However, it's unlikely," Freeman said. "It's really not big," I admitted, "and there's no big hole in the little roof." Then I thought of something else. "Has Mrs. Sikeston or her sister ever been to your house?" "Why did you ask so?" "It's not surprising that they have been there, after all, you are neighbors. Bill Tracy told me that last week, he seemed to see one of the sisters visiting your house." Freeman snorted: "Bill Tracy is such a bitch. Yes, Jennifer came by bike one day. Why not? Like you said, we are neighbors." "But Rosemary Sexton never came to your house?" "Can't say never. She seemed to come with Raeder one night. Never by herself, though, if you want to ask. You think I killed him to fuck his wife Got it?" "Jem, I don't dare jump to conclusions at the moment. Just a few questions." "Okay, go ask someone else." With that, he left the room. When I went back downstairs, I saw Sergeant Lan Si giving orders to two deputies who had just arrived.Seeing me approaching, he asked, "They'll go to the hut right away to take pictures and take the body away. Is that all right, doctor?" "Of course. You decide." We walked with the deputy through the woods to the hunting lodge.The snow had begun to melt, but Radell Sexton's solitary footprint was still evident. "You know, doctor." Sergeant Lan Si said slowly, "I think the murderer has three ways." I've heard this a lot.However, Sergeant Lan Si is usually not without pride when he throws out his reasoning.This time I couldn't hear it at all. "What way?" I asked. "The killer stood at a distance and threw the stick or shot it with a transmitter." "You know, the body is indoors," I pointed out. "Take a step back. When the murderer threw the stick, the dead man just stuck his head out of the window. After death, he fell into the room. But even so, the stick will It fell on the snow outside. What’s more, it was the shark tooth marks on the stick that caused the fatal injury. If the stick was thrown far away, how could it be possible to aim so accurately that the tooth marks just hit the deceased’s head.” “看来，你已经考虑过这种可能性了。” "Yes." I admit. “好吧，那说第二种可能性。凶手踩在赛克斯顿的脚印上，穿过雪地。离开时使用了同样的办法。” 我不情愿地摇摇头：“死者穿着新靴子，脚印上留下了清晰的花纹。我专门检查过，鞋底花纹丝毫没模糊。警长，那些脚印就是赛克斯顿留下的，没有第二个人踩过。而且，他进去了就没再出来。” 蓝思警长深吸一口气：“那好吧，大夫，只剩下第三种可能性了。赛克斯顿被第一个进入小屋的人杀死，在我们进屋前。” “第一个进去的人是我父亲。” “我知道。”蓝思警长说。 那之后，我们没再说话，静静地穿过慢慢融化的雪原，朝小屋走去。副警长干完手头的活儿，用担架运走了尸体。在离开前，其中一名副警长来到雪地上，拍脚印照片。 “我在地上发现了这玩意儿。”另一个副警长对蓝思警长示意道。 “这是什么？一根羽毛？” "yes." 蓝思警长咕哝道：“看起来不是新的。也许是上个猎鸭季留下的。” “在我看来，更像是鸡毛。”副警长说，“也许有人用鸡毛做了根箭？” “他又不是被箭杀死的。”警长咕哝道。他把羽毛收进口袋。 两个副警长都离开了，只剩我和警长时，我说：“我父亲没杀赛克斯顿。” “我知道你的感受，大夫。如果换我，肯定也一样。我承认，他看起来似乎没有动机——” “他不可能杀人。想想看，警长。那根棍子，也就是凶器，是怎么跑到凶案现场去的？它本来收藏在主屋，在赛克斯顿的玻璃柜里。不是死者带过去的。我们看着他走进小屋，右手扛枪，左手拿着三明治，没别的了。我已经证明他没离开过小屋，踩在自己的脚印上退出来也不可能——那会弄花原本的鞋底纹路。” “该死，大夫，凶器是凶手自己带去的。这不难猜到。” “当然，你说得没错，是凶手带去的。这也证明了我父亲的无辜。他不可能把棍子藏在衣服底下，跟我一起穿过树林，然后在众目睽睽下，走进小屋。如果那样，我们不可能注意不到。” 蓝思警长明显松了口气：“当然，大夫。你说得没错。肯定不是他。” “另外，如果赛克斯顿在我们走近小屋时还活着，他不可能错过那头鹿。他没开枪的原因就是，当时已经死了。” “不过，这样一来，还剩下什么解释？” “我不知道。”我老实说道。 “也许是鸟干的！这也能解释羽毛的来源。要不然，就是凶手绑着翅膀飞过雪地！听起来怎么样，大夫？” “可能性不大。”我轻声道。我们离开小屋，朝主屋走去。 “不过，刚刚我说过，棍子不可能藏在衣服下，也许还有另外一层意思。”我说，“凶手带着棍子，怎么靠近死者？雷德尔·赛克斯顿肯定能意识到凶手的意图，为什么不反抗？” “凶手肯定想办法，把棍子藏了起来。” 我打了个响指：“藏在猎枪套里！” “比尔·翠西那种！” 我们回去时，刚好看到比尔·翠西把猎枪和枪套放回车上。蓝思警长回去拿上棍子，想装进枪套，但没成功。猎枪放在里面，枪套里没剩多大地方。哪怕把猎枪取出来，棍子可以勉强塞进去，但枪套也会鼓出一坨。 “我打猎的时候根本就没带枪套！”翠西坚持道，“只带了猎枪！如果你们想栽赃在我头上，真是疯了！” “我们没想栽赃在你头上，比尔。”我坚持说道。 他爬上车，说：“如果你们还有其他问题，知道去哪儿找我。” 翠西驾车离开后，我母亲从房子里走了出来：“山姆，整件事让你父亲情绪非常低落。我们最好赶紧离开。” “当然。”我说，“我跟警长说完就走。” 蓝思警长刚刚回屋去了一趟，此刻再度出现：“除了凶器，其他武器都好好地收在柜子里。不过，我又想到了另外一个办法，山姆。假设有人用冰块做成南非投掷枪头，标枪旋转着穿过小屋门，缠在死者脖子上，击碎他的头骨。因为室内生着火，所以冰枪头融化了。” “标枪上的绳子去哪儿了，警长，它也融化了？而且，案发现场并没有水迹。而且，真正的凶器，也就是棍子，敲击形成的齿痕又该怎么解释？”不过，说起火，我想到了咖啡，说起咖啡，我想到了别的，“水缸！” "what?" “跟我来，警长！路上再向你解释。”我跑过水泵房和谷仓，直奔小屋而去。蓝思警长紧跟在后。“你还不明白？凶手根本不用穿过雪地，因为他一直就藏在现场——在下雪前已经藏在小屋里了！如果那个金属水缸能装三十加仑水，藏一个小个子成年人足够了。他杀死赛克斯顿后又藏进了水缸，等安全之后再逃走。” 我们非常接近小屋了，蓝思警长感染了我的热情：“凶手还在里面吗？” “也许不在了，不过，如果水缸是空的，这个推理就说得通。凶手要藏进去，就必须先把水缸排空。事后，他不可能把水灌回去，因为水管已经被收起来了。” 这辈子，我没对几件事如此确定过。冲进小屋，我一把揭开水缸盖子，把手伸了进去。 水缸里面装满了水，几乎没到了水缸边缘。 蓝思警长想安慰我：“你瞧，大夫，凶手也许是藏在里面，事后再灌满水。” “没有水管。” “他可以用池塘里的水。” “小屋到池塘之间的雪地上，什么痕迹也没有。”我提醒他说。不过，为了进一步验证，我还是倒了点水出来。水很清凉，绝不是池塘里的死水。 回到大屋，我十分沮丧，就像刚听到蓝思警长说我父亲涉案时一样。凶案必须有解释。但我知道，耽搁得越长，破案的可能性也越低。翠西，其中一名嫌疑人，就已经回家了。 罗斯玛丽·赛克斯顿好像恢复了一些，回到了楼下。她脸色苍白，说话有点慢，大概是因为我给的镇静剂。“告诉我，事情是怎么发生的？”她小声问道。 “我们也不知道。”我老实说，“也许是睡在小屋的流浪汉杀了他。” 她挥挥手表示不耐烦：“杰姆·弗里曼告诉我了，凶器是他自己收藏的棍子。凶手不可能是流浪汉。” 我父亲刚好走进来，听到了最后一段话：“你是说，有人蓄意谋杀了他？真不敢相信。” “目前，我们什么都不知道。”我疲惫地说。 “他是我的朋友。我愿意做任何事，找出凶手。” 我母亲打岔说：“我认为，最好先回镇上去，哈里。山姆会载我们回去。” 她说得没错，是该走了。不过，我还是有点放不开。“我想再去看看收藏柜。”我说。 “我已经检查过了，大夫。”警长说。 不过，我还是坚持去了武器收藏室，看看高高的玻璃门柜。詹妮弗跟了进来。我问道：“柜子钥匙一般收在哪里？” “柜门开着，从来不锁。” 我站在那儿，盯着柜子里的空位，来自太平洋小岛的鲨鱼齿印棍，原本放在空位上。我还记得雷德尔·赛克斯顿带我们参观，提到棍子时所说的话。有人拿走棍子，插上翅膀飞过雪地，杀死了他。 我盯着玻璃柜门，门上反射出我和詹妮弗的影子。“我们走吧。”我说。 “太阳又退进云层里了。有点冷了。”她说着，打开房门。 我扶着她走下后门台阶，朝小屋方向走去。“今晚可能又要下雪。” “我感觉真无助。”她说。 “我们都一样。就在刚刚，看到玻璃门上的影子时，我才意识到自己有多无助。突然间，我明白了凶手是谁。但我没有任何证据，说服不了陪审团。” “你是说，是柜子提示了你？” 我点点头：“我记起赛克斯顿在带我们参观时说的话。他说，那玩意儿用来结果受伤的鹿再好不过了。他以前就用过，不是吗？今天早上，他说自己忘了什么东西，指的就是棍子。他让人回去，帮他拿到小屋。” 她疑惑地看着我。 “他让你回去帮他拿，詹妮弗。你当时和他走在一起，我听到他低声对你说着什么。然后，你回到主屋，替他取来棍子。当时，其他人都四散开了，所以我们没看到你回去。你带着棍子走进小屋，赛克斯顿也不会心生警惕，因为是他让你去取的。他甚至转身背对你，给了你绝好的机会。棍子上有齿印，对准目标挥下去，杀他并不难。” “你是说，我是凶手？” “只可能是你，詹妮弗。我猜你的动机是钱。你姐姐可以继承他的遗产，你也有钱了。” "No." “是的，詹妮弗。我母亲说你上楼十分钟——那就够了。” “我怎么穿过雪地？根本没有脚印。” 这时，我们来到了山坡最高处，俯瞰着狩猎小屋，在秋日美景中静静矗立着。雪还没化完，赛克斯顿的脚印仍清晰可辨。 “哦，不，雪地上有痕迹。”我说，“痕迹还在，清晰可辨。不过，就像吉尔伯特·基斯·切斯特顿笔下的邮差一样，太明显了，反而让人忽视。当然，我指的是从水泵房到小屋的水管印。昨晚下了有半寸雪，积在水管上。今早，水管收起来后，底下裸露的地面露了出来。水管印从小屋门口一直延伸到水泵房。” “你疯了！水管最多只有一英寸半宽！哪怕我踮着脚走，也不会丝毫痕迹都不留下！” 一阵寒风吹过，我竖起衣领。“你并不是踮着脚走，詹妮弗。”我平静地说，“你骑着自行车。” 如果我期待她做出困兽之斗，那就要失望了。她闭上眼，身子微微一晃。我伸出手扶了一把。 “你说过，打猎季节，死者不准你骑车去树林，”我继续道，“很显然，以前你去过，所以他才这么说。对你来说，在狭窄的水管印上骑车并不难。哪怕你歪了一两下，也可以说是水管拉动时留下的痕迹。当然，你得把自行车从鸡舍扛到水泵房，免得在院子里留下车辙。骑车时，你把棍子夹在胳膊底下。杀人后，你沿原路返回。只要一直顺着水管印骑，就不会留下痕迹。你没有留下任何线索，除了一根鸡毛。可能是车子在鸡舍沾上的。一想起你昨晚把自行车放在废弃的鸡舍，再想到那根鸡毛，我就全明白了。” “跟钱无关。”她终于说道，“跟钱没关系。他对我姐姐太残忍了。你可能也注意到了，她过得有多不开心。有时候，他喝醉酒的话，还要打她。她离不开他，所以，我唯一能做的就是，杀了他。” “你打算向警长自首吗？如果你不去，我也要告诉他。” 我们回到大屋后，詹妮弗去找警长坦白，我则和父母一起离开。回镇的路上，我们看到那头十二叉的野鹿在树林边缘奔跑着。我父亲让我停车，他好开枪猎杀它。但是，我压根儿没停。 “那是我父母最后一次到北山镇来看我，”山姆·霍桑医生最后说道，“他们说，在城市里生活安全多了。啊，酒瓶空了。不过，下次你来，我会开瓶新的。下次，我再跟你讲个奇怪的案件。这次，蓝思警长总算自己破了一次案。”

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Notes: 系列。