Chapter 3 Shrimp Shack Mystery
"I want to tell you now about the case of the Lobster Shack, which is probably the most puzzling case of my early years. It was the summer of 1924 (Sam Horn San said), Harry Houdini was alive and popular. I was just a struggling young doctor in New England, in awe of people like magicians and brain surgeons.
"Pour yourself another—uh—something to drink, sit down, and let me tell you..."
The magician's name was Julian Chabert, but maybe I'd better start with the brain surgeon because it was through him that I met Chabert.Even in a small town like North Hills, I've heard a lot of stories about the great Dr. Felix Dulay. In 1924, there weren't that many brain surgeons, and His fame spread from Boston like ripples growing in a pond. I have been practicing medicine in Beishan Township for about two years. A farmer who was seriously ill nearby put me in personal contact with Dr. Du Lei.After I decided that brain surgery was the only chance to save my patient's life.Just call the famous doctor at the Boston hospital.He was very willing to see my patients, so I drove to the city myself, using my Snap Arrow convertible as an ambulance.Dr. Durley operated on that night and saved the farmer's life. When I met him for the first time that day, I was struck by the calmness and modesty of the man.I expected to see a quick-tempered, confident man with wild white hair walking down the hospital corridors like a whirlwind, giving orders to nurses.In reality he was a nice man, about forty-five, soft-spoken, and taking no credit for anything. I was young enough to be his son, but he spent a lot of time explaining the procedure in detail.When I complimented his skills and said he was a pioneer of the latest technology in brain surgery.He just laughed at me and said, "Nonsense, Dr. Hawthorne! Is that what you call you? Dr. Hawthorne?" "Most call me Dr. Sam," I confessed. "Well, Dr. Sam, the technique of opening the skull is ancient, but I admit that surgery on the human brain progresses much more slowly than other surgical procedures. We know that prehistoric humans did trepanation, it's just that we don't Know the reason why it was done. There is also evidence of brain surgery in BC in Peru." Despite what he said, brain surgery was a rare practice in 1924.The few doctors who perform this procedure usually develop their own ingenious surgical instruments, and Dr. Felix Duré was no exception.When we first met.He showed me a probe with a small light attached, and a barbed wire that could be used as a bone saw.Today all kinds of equipment like these two are used in surgery, but in 1924, I could only stare in disbelief. To me, this man was a magician. I saw Dr. Durley two or three times that spring.Whenever I need to be in Boston for work, I visit him.Unlike the other country doctors I later met, I was not satisfied with living in Beishan Township, but wished to be acquainted with various progresses in the world around me.Some of Boston's large teaching hospitals are sources of knowledge.And knowledge goes a long way to my patients.So I'm going to ask for it. In late spring, Dr. Felix Duré mentioned his daughter's impending wedding. "Linda's a lovely, good girl," he said, with more than paternal pride. "She's just turned twenty. I think I still treat her like a child, but she's a young woman. And they They love each other deeply." "Did they meet in college?" Dr. Duley nodded. "Tom Forsythe is graduating in June and going to law school, of course I hope they wait a little longer, but you know what it's like with young people these days." Of course I knew, because I still considered myself a part of it. "Is she your only child?" He nodded sadly. "The house would be quite empty without her, and she used to come home on weekends even when she was at college, but I think Edith and I will get used to it." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "The groom's family has a summer house by the sea near Newberry Harbour. They're throwing an engagement party there for Tom and Linda on the third weekend in June. Will you and your wife do it?" I was too surprised to answer this invitation from someone I didn't know very well, and all I could think of was to say, "I'm not married yet." "Ah, then bring your girlfriend." "I'm afraid I have to ask my nurse, but are you sure it doesn't matter if I go?" "Of course! I like you, Dr. Sam, and I want my daughter to believe that my colleagues aren't all bearded old men. Give me your address and I'll send you the post."
My colleagues. On the way back to Beishan Town that day, these words kept echoing in my mind.I am a colleague of the most famous brain surgeon on the east coast.This is what he said. "Do you want to go to the engagement party?" I asked Aibo as soon as I entered the clinic.She is a happy fat woman in her thirties, and she has been my nurse since the day I arrived in Beishan Township. "Who's getting engaged?" she asked. "Daughter of Dr. Felix Duré." "My God, did they invite you?" "Will ask me, I'll take you with me, Aibo." I could see that this made her happy. "Would you like to go?" "Maybe, let me get used to the idea first." But as happy as she was, I don't think she really believed in it.It was not until two weeks later that the finely printed invitations arrived.The engagement party, which lasted all day from morning to night, was held at Forsyth's on Saturday.You can play tennis and swim.There will also be a special performance by world-renowned escape expert Julian Chabert. I really have to admit they know how to do it with style. Wait until the big day finally arrives on the third weekend of June.We were thankful that no wounded farmers or their pregnant wives interrupted at the last minute, and Ib and I set out early in the morning for the two hour drive to Port Newberry in my convertible.I've never seen her so well dressed, with her hair pulled all the way back, and a bell-shaped hat that matched her pale pink summer dress. "Do I look all right?" she asked as we drove out of town on the North Bridge. "Beautiful. You should dress like this in the clinic." "Oh. It's wrong for a nurse to dress like that!" she replied.Take my word for it.Then, after we had driven for a while in silence, she asked: "Who is this Julian Chabert?" "I guess you could call him a worse Houdini. He does the same getaway tricks. From what I've heard, his technique is just as good, but he lacks Houdini's showmanship." Over the past few years Houdini's name is often in the papers, either escaping from an underwater box, disappearing an elephant from a New York theater stage, or exposing a fake psychic conspiracy. "Will he perform today?" "I think so, but I don't know how the Forsyth family found him." The road to Newberry Harbor was narrow and bumpy, guided only by track marks.We won't have a numbered road network until two years from now.Driving long distances was quite risky back then. At last we arrived at Forsyth's mansion, which turned out to be a small but large white house, which sat right in the middle of the large land from the road to the sea.I could see that the sight made Aibo overwhelmed, and so did I. Fortunately Dr. Durley and his wife were present, and he greeted me politely with a handshake.I introduced Aibo to them. "I'm glad you two are here, this is my wife, Edith." She was a very pleasant woman with large diamond rings on her fingers. "Great to meet a young colleague of my husband's. Our daughter Linda said the doctors were all old men." "Your husband told me that too," I said. "Where are the happy couple?" "In the back with our master," Du Lei led the way around the big house, and we saw the huge tent that had been erected for the banquet.There must have been at least a hundred guests at the scene, and even though it was only noon, some guests were already drinking champagne cocktails. "We won't be arrested by the police," Du Lei seemed to see through my thoughts, and assured me, "The chief of police is also one of the guests." Linda Dooley and Tom Forsyth stood close to each other in a circle of congratulatory people.I had to admit that they were a real couple--she was a natural beauty who not only inherited but enhanced her mother's friendly good looks, and he had the allure of a rich kid that fascinated college girls and juries alike. Forsyth's parents, the hosts of the party, were a little unexpected.I expected them to be as pompous and charming as Dr. and Mrs. Durey, but they were not quite right.In fact, Peter Forsyth looked uncomfortable in an open-collared blazer and ice-cream-colored white trousers.I wondered what he did for a living, but decided not to ask.It's none of my business. "Do you work at Boston Hospital, too?" Mrs. Forsyth asked me, too much makeup and too much of a good mother-in-law.but.It's none of my business either. "No, I run a small clinic in Beishan Town, and this is my nurse, Aibo." "I really like your house," said Aibo. "There's nothing like it in North Hills." "Thank you," said Mrs. Forsyth, looking about nervously for her husband.A band started playing dance music at the other end of the tent. Suddenly, there was commotion and excited murmurs, and I saw Dr. Dooley nervously tugging at a bandaged finger and crane his neck to look. "Here comes Chabert," Linda Dooley announced. The crowd in front of me parted and he emerged, walking swiftly between us, black cape fluttering, all the air of a magician on stage.It seems that he is really a performer, and maybe he will be as successful as Houdini in the future.Peter Forsyth held out his hand, but instead of shaking his hand, the escape artist pointed to a short, bald man beside him. "This is Mark Ernest, my business manager. Some of you saw him last night. Are we ready for a show?" Forsyth nodded. "We're going to use the lobster shack on the shore, as we discussed last night." "Very well, you can choose a group of guests to search the hut, search me, and tie me up with rope or chain as they please. Leave me alone in the hut, and I will be taken out from the outside." Lock it, everyone can guard the hut, I will release all the restraints and come out of the hut within five minutes." As he spoke, my eyes were fixed on the face of the future groom.Tom Forsyth seemed unusually nervous, and I was trying to deduce why. "Doctor Sam." The voice calling my name interrupted my thoughts.Felix Dulay is speaking: "What do you think of Peter's suggestion that you join me?" "And our chief of police," Forsyth said, "is supposed to be an expert at locking people up." "I'll get him," said Mrs. Forsyth.She went there for a while before bringing back an overweight red-faced man. "Director Banner, this is Dr. Felix Duray, and Mrs. Duley. You know, Linda's parents." "It's a pleasure to meet you," said the bureau chief, shaking hands with Du Lei, and then pulled up his trousers. "And this is Dr. Sam Hawthorne, who came all the way from North Hills." I shook hands with him and introduced Aibo to him. "I hope you don't think public drinking like this is common," he said to us slyly, "but the Forsyths have a special place here, and, after all, it's a happy event—isn't it?" "Yes!" I agreed. "When is the wedding?" "The first Saturday in August, it's a big event." He reached into his pocket. "How about a cigar?" "No, thanks." "It's time we went over and inspected the lobster shack," suggested Dr. Durley. I walked behind Duley and the chief of police.Some of the guests followed us again, and the great lawn sloped gradually from the tent to the shore, about a hundred yards or so.There was a rocky shore with only a narrow beach, and at one point the land jutted out into the sea, and on the ground stood a small wooden house.Even from a distance, I could see the details of the hut—a door and two side windows.A little pier led from the door to the water, and a chimney let me know there was a fireplace. The three boats tied to the pier did not look like lobster fishermen's boats, and it was evident that the place had long since been abandoned for its original purpose.Even the old wooden lobster cages piled up near the door seemed to be there only for view, as if one of the two windows held a fishing rod. "Peter gave me the key," said Dr. Dooley, unlocking the door. "He's using this as his boathouse—a place for his fishing gear." The house is not as cluttered as I thought.There are several fishing rods and several reels for reeling the fishing line.There was a fishing line on a reel scattered on the ground.But other than that, the place is well kept and reasonably clean. "They also play surf-casting," Chief Banner said, "and the tackle is expensive." Felix Duré strode up to the wooden pillar in the middle of the room, which supported the roof and went from floor to ceiling. "The post looks strong enough," he said, after a tug, "and after they chained him up, we brought him in here and tied him to the post. Will you? Then we lock the door from the outside. If he can really walk out of this cabin in five minutes, I will admit that he is a magician." "We'd better search this place first," Chief Banner said, "to make sure he hasn't got a friend to hide here." After a careful search, nothing was found. In fact, there was no place to hide in this shrimp hut, except for a tall wooden cabinet against the wall.The inside of the cabinet is empty, while the wall behind the cabinet is solid. "Where's the chimney?" Chief Banner said as we were about to leave.We checked together and found that the small opening was blocked by a bird's nest at the top. "This fireplace hasn't been used for a long time," I said. We went back outside, and the large crowd of onlookers stood in a semicircle facing the lobster shack.I didn't see Julian Chabert at first, but then he emerged from the crowd, wearing a pair of bright green swimming trunks, and stood on the sloping grass.I heard a few of the female guests gasp when they saw his bare chest. Even the Olympic swimmer Jonny Weissmuller was still in a swimsuit. But I am not surprised.I had seen pictures of Houdini in the newspapers, chained and wearing only swimming trunks, about to perform his impossible escape.In fact, they say he once escaped naked from a cell in a New York City jail. Chabert's business manager stood aside with a smile on his lips, and Peter Forsyth stepped forward. "Okay, now we're going to have some of you come and chain him up." "Why don't you just invite the bridegroom and the bride?" someone shouted. "They should know what married life is like!" Linda and Tom picked up some long iron chains amidst everyone's laughter.They put chains around Chabert's arms and legs, so tight that he could barely hop into the shrimp shack.Several locks were brought out, inspected, and locked.It seemed that this person would not be able to break free on his own without external help. We took him into the cabin while the rest of the guests crowded around the open door to watch.Chief Banner took out a thick rope and looped it around Chabert's shoulders, and he stretched over the magician to do it.He tied a strong knot and bound the chained man to the strong wooden post.I took another rope and tied him around his knees.His hands were tightly bound in front of his body with iron chains, and the last iron chain locked him to the wooden post. "It's all well now!" declared Peter Forsyth with an expression almost triumphant, "tied up, rope, chains, almost naked. So you can see He didn't hide tools or keys." "As a last line of defense," suggested Dr. Dooley, "I'll nail the window with this hammer and nail." He went around outside while Peter Forsyth was about to bolt and lock the door. "Any last words to say?" Forsyth asked. Julian Chabert just smiled at us, showing no sign of discomfort. "I'll be with you in five minutes, and you can start timing me now." Forsyth slammed the door shut, drew the bolt, and added another lock.Over at the hut we heard that Dr. Dooley was nailed too. "I don't think it's really necessary," he said, turning to join us. "There were people on all sides of the hut, so no one could go in and release him without being seen." "Certainly," agreed young Tom Forsyth.I noticed that he held Linda's hand very tightly. I almost forgot about Abby, but she tugged down my sleeve and said, "Don't leave me again, Dr. Sam! I don't know anyone here." "I don't know either, Ib." I looked around at the eager, drunken faces I thought I'd never recognize.I'm just a country doctor.And these are characters from F. Scott Fitzgerald novels—like straight out of High Society or Vanity Fair or whatever. "Two minutes have passed," announced Peter Forsyth. Aibo and I walked over to where Mark Ernest, Chabert's business manager, was standing. "This must be commonplace for you," I said. The short, bald man shrugged his shoulders. "Each escape is a little different. He likes unusual venues, and it's not easy to find places that Houdini hasn't used." "How did he do it?" Mark Ernest only smiled. "Magic, doctor, is pure magic." "Only a minute left," Forsyth announced.We could feel the tension among the guests as they waited for the locked door of the lobster shack to open. "Thirty seconds!" All talking stopped.I saw Felix Duray squeeze his daughter's arm, saw Mrs. Forsyth pour another glass of champagne. "Ten seconds!" I watched a seagull slowly circle the sky, probably wondering what so many stupid humans were doing standing around a lobster shack on a hot July afternoon. "Five minutes is up!" Forsyth's voice was flat, even a little hoarse. Everyone stared at the cabin door. Nothing happened. We waited a full minute. Still nothing. "I think we tied him up too hard," Chief Banner said. Mark Ernest came forward to comfort Forsyth. "I've seen him do this trick at least a hundred times. Don't worry, he'll come out. It just took a little longer than usual." After the second minute that exceeded the time limit, the guests present were visibly disturbed.Peter Forsyth walked to the door and asked loudly: "Are you all right in there, Mr. Chabert?" No response. Mark Ernest stepped forward with a whispered curse. "I told you not to worry!" he pleaded. So we continued to wait for a while. After another five minutes, Tom and Linda tried to look in from the side windows, but the windows were all painted black from the inside.Can't see anything. At the end of seven minutes Forsythe said, "I'm going to unlock the door." I went up and stood beside him, and the door opened.The first thing I saw was a bloodstained hunting knife lying on the ground near the window.I pushed Forsyth away and walked into the hut first. "Tell everyone to stand back," I warned. Julian Chabert was still tied to the wooden post with rope and chain, but now his head was hanging at a strange angle, and he was dead without a doubt. With a hundred witnesses surrounding the hut, someone sneaked into the locked lobster shack unseen and slit Chabert's throat.
Chief Banner immediately stepped in to take charge, and he seemed secretly smug during an initial period of panic and confusion.Maybe he is enjoying temporarily being able to manage this group of rich people who own luxury houses in Linhai. "Now. Now!" he cried, "quiet! We've had a murder here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it! I've searched the cabin myself before—me, and these two doctors—we We all know there is no living creature hiding in there, we just searched again and got the same result. There is no one in there except the dead man. That is, someone killed him while we were all standing outside. killed him. Does anyone see anything now?" Mrs. Forsyth was the first to answer: "No one has ever been in that cabin, Chief Banner, not even anywhere near it." "He must have killed himself," said young Tom Forsyth. "Both hands tied and still chained?" Director Banner asked. "Also. Where was the knife originally?—in his throat?" Felix Dulay stepped forward.The level-headed professional brain surgeon has always had a lot of self-control. "He was murdered without a doubt. If we find out why he was killed, maybe we can find out who did it." "We don't even have anyone here who knows him," argued Peter Forsyth.He regarded this murder as deliberately messing up his wedding banquet. "He's just a hired show," he said, turning to Chabert's manager. "Speaking of which, I want my five hundred dollars back." Throughout the whole process, Mark Ernest's behavior is the strangest.The short, bald manager seemed alternately frightened and elated, moving sideways, his feet pulsating.But at the same time, he wiped away the tears from his eyes with trembling hands. "What shall I do without him?" he moaned. "He is my life!" I looked around at the wandering guests, not knowing what to do, and felt that order must be established out of chaos.Already a few people were getting ready to drive their cars across the great lawn, anxious to avoid getting involved in any disputes.Chief Banner saw this too, and ran ahead of them, drawing a revolver from his jacket. "Listen up everyone! I'm going to stand right in the middle of the lawn now, and if anyone tries to run past me, I'll get shot in the leg! Got it?" Everyone understood, and the great escape stopped immediately. But Peter Forsyth came running up, waving his hands. "Hey, Commissioner, you can't talk to my guests like that! My God! You treat them like ordinary criminals." I quickly stood between the two men. "Let's go inside," I suggested, "Mr. Forsyth, could I trouble you to prepare a guest list for us? Director Banner can check the names on the list first, and then let most of the people Leave, obviously none of them had anything to do with this crime." My suggestion seemed to appeal to all, and we marched our army into the big white house.Banner shook the phone to summon his men, and I used the time to pull Peter Forsyth aside and ask questions I wanted to ask myself. "How did you happen to have Chabert for a sideshow?" I asked. Forsyth nervously lit a cigar. "Holy shit, how did this happen to me? This is the worst kind of publicity ever." "How did you happen to have him?" I repeated. "He came to see me. One day last month he came into my office with his manager. He heard my son was getting engaged and suggested I get him to perform. Well, I thought it would be very Good sideshow." "Didn't you and your wife know Chabert or Ernest before?" He hesitated only for a second. "I don't know." "But—?" I encouraged him to go on. "But Tom might, I don't know." Chief Banner interrupted our conversation by striding into the room. "It's up to me to ask questions here, doctor." "Have your men arrived yet?" He nodded. "We'll find out. You needn't worry, Mr. Forsyth." I wandered into the big living room, saw Mark Ernest across the room, and walked over to him. He saw me and pointed to the high and ornate ceiling. "It's a beautiful place, er, doctor?" "Can I speak to you privately? Before Chief Banner comes to you?" "No problem, doctor, what are you thinking? Is there a performance you want me to arrange for you?" I lead him past a group of anxiously chattering guests, all of whom are getting more and more drunk.It didn't occur to Forsyth to put away the champagne.Although a large number of police are coming. After I brought Ernest safely into the study, I closed the door and said, "The death of your star doesn't seem to bother you too much." "Of course I'm sad! He's a good man!" "Is Julian Chabert his real name?" "No, that was the name of a French magician a hundred years ago, and he found it in a book." "What's his real name?" "Sammy Gorman, he's from New York, he learned his act from watching Houdini." "How did he try to get out of that cabin?" "Those are his secrets, and he hasn't even told me!" "But you must have some ideas." The little man moved nervously. "I can't tell you, maybe I can find another magician to replace Chabert." I try another method. "Chabert must have taken insurance, some of his stunts in the water are quite dangerous." "Of course he's insured." "Do you have a wife and children?" "He? Are you kidding me? He doesn't like women." "And who is his insurance beneficiary?" "Uh... I think it's me." "Very strong motive for murder, isn't it?" "Damn it, I didn't kill him." "Someone killed him." I tried to ask again, "How are you planning to escape?" "They won't put the blame on me, will they?" "maybe." "I'm outside, everyone sees me, I've never even been in there." "But maybe there is something in his method that allows you to kill him by remote control." "Okay," he said. "I'll tell you what I know, he keeps a key to those locks in his mouth, under his tongue, and as long as his hands are locked in front of his body, which he insists on, he can Spit out the key and catch it in your hand." "What about the rope?" "When you tie him up, he flexes his muscles." "And what about the locked door?" "He has several solutions. Do you have to know all his secrets?" "I think you've told me enough," I agreed, "except that maybe someone killed him—if it wasn't you." "Really, I don't know anything about that!" "Whose idea was it to come here?" "His, he read about the engagement in the newspaper." "Does he always go to rich people to ask him to perform?" "No, never before. But he thinks Forsyth might make him a lot of money. Says he's a bootlegger and ships things over." The revelation of this secret did not surprise me.In fact, this also says a lot of things. "Okay," I said, "stay around here and tell the chief of police what you said." I walked over to the French windows facing the back lawn. "Where are you going?" asked Ernest. "Go back to the lobster shack."
Director Banner's men were there now, carefully dismantling the body.Carefully inspect doors, windows, and every inch of the cabin. "There's nothing on the ground, and nothing has moved," Banner complained, "just as we did when we searched the place earlier, Doctor." "Have you checked the chimney again?" "Of course it was checked, and the window that Dr. Dooley had nailed up. There's no way to go any further. It's just out of the question." Felix Duré joined us at the door. "I probably opened the window and threw a throwing knife at him." Chief Banner snorted, "Sure! The thing is, you're hammering the nails in while we're still talking to him inside. And there's a hundred eyewitnesses who swore those two windows weren't opened either then or since." .” "That would be suicide," insisted Duley. "Anything else is out of the question!" He picked up a fishing rod that was leaning outside the cabin, and kicked an old lobster cage. While they were arguing, I stood and looked at the pile of old shrimp pots, the slats all broken and rotting.Haven't used it for a long time.I thought of Chabert being tricked into this hut like a lobster into a lobster trap.The only difference is that the lobster is still alive, but Chabert is dead. I saw Edith Dooley walking along the bank with one arm comfortingly round her daughter.I walked towards them. "Don't worry," I said reassuringly, "I'm sure the police will figure it out." But Linda Dooley was on the verge of tears. "They think Tom did it!" she sobbed. "What did you say? How could they say that?" "Tom obviously knows him," explained Mrs. Durley. "We don't know the details, but Chief Banner's men are questioning him right now." I left them, and hurried back into the house, anxious to know what was going on.Apparently Tom Forsyth had just been questioned.He stood in the living room, pale and trembling, talking to his father in a low voice.As soon as they saw me, both fell silent. I pointed to some of the guests who were leaving. "The police have checked them, are they all right?" Peter Forsyth nodded. "Thanks for your suggestion." "What's the matter with your son?" Tom looked away in embarrassment, and his father replied, "The bloody fool is too honest to think for himself, just to tell them he knows Chabert." "Where did you know him, Tom?" "New York, where I spent my summer last year." I'm starting to see a ray of light in the mist, and it's not a good light. "Chapbert told his manager that he thought he could get a good deal out of you, Mr. Forsyth, and he knew you were a bootlegger. I think he came here to blackmail you. Literally paying him Performance fee, you are actually paying to gag him.” Peter Forsyth frowned: "When you see Chief Banner, do you think he cares that I'm a booze smuggler?" "Maybe Chabert isn't blackmailing you for the whiskey, maybe he's blackmailing you for your son." Forsyth took one look at Tom, then at me and said, "How much do you know?" "Tom must have been pretty close friends with Chabert to tell him about his father being a bootlegger. And it was news of Tom's engagement that brought Chabert here, as his manager hinted. Chabert is gay—” "There," Tom Forsyth interrupted, his face contorted with pain. "It was a stupid crazy thing that happened last summer, but it was just one night. I was sad for months afterwards, and I wish I was with Linda, and I wish I could forget about it!" "Chabert wants money?" Peter Forsyth nodded. "Fifty thousand dollars in hush money." "How did you tell him?" "Tell him I know guys who'll cement him and sink him to the bottom of the ocean." "That scares him?" "It seems so. He didn't mention that again afterwards—only about today's performance." "When did all this happen?" "last night." "Is anyone else here?" "Not at the time of the talk. It was only after Felix and Edith Dooley got to talk to us about using the lobster hut for Chabert to perform escape tricks." “所以只有你和令郎知道勒索的企图。”我转身问汤姆：“你把这些事都告诉了警方？” “大部分都说了，我没说我父亲威胁他的事。” “好吧，”我走了开去。而一些要离开的客人正朝我们这边走过来。 其中之一是爱玻。“我已经由嫌犯名单上剔除了，我们就快动身了吗，山姆医生？” “是的，爱玻，快了。” 班纳局长出现在门口。“好了，你，医生，到捕虾小屋去，还有你，彼德。妈的，我要让你们看看那花招是怎么耍的。” “你是说你知道是谁杀了他？” “我是说我知道他是怎么自杀的。”
我们走了下去，站在小屋外面，班纳局长靠在里面那根木头柱子上，两手交叉在身前，就像那个死者一样。“现在，看这边。我们都知道夏伯特是一个——，呃，怪胎。随便你们怎么称呼他啦，反正他有毛病，所以他决定自杀，可是要死得像变魔术，我猜他是想上头条新闻。” “他不会自杀的，”马克·恩耐斯特在一旁很坚持地说。 “哦。不会吗？哎，我要让你们看看他是怎么做的！你告诉过我，恩耐斯特，说他把一支备份钥匙藏在他嘴里。呃，他就用那把钥匙打开铁链上的锁。伸手到上面取下他早就藏好的刀子，”他的两手伸到头上，刚好可以摸到天花板上的横梁，“他把钥匙放回他嘴里我们后来找到的地方，自己割了喉咙，把刀子丢开，在流血过多死亡之前，再把双手的锁锁上。” “看起来好像不是这样，”彼德·佛西斯说。 “是也罢，不是也罢，这是唯一的方法！里面没有别人和他在一起，也没有人进出过。我们所有的人全盯着看呢，他是自杀的——只有这个办法。”
警方人员开始收拾他们的器材，佛西斯一家向那栋大房子走回去，我走到码头上。在那里站了一阵，望着拍岸的海水。这时杜雷医生走了过来。站在我身边。 “你在想什么，山姆医生？你对班纳局长的解答满意吗？” “不满意，”我简单明了地回答道。“在自己割断喉咙之后，再把那些铁链锁回原状，可需要超人的力量。何况。你看到班纳局长得伸长了身子才够得到横梁，夏伯特比他矮多了。他不可能做得到的。” “你为什么不这样告诉局长呢？” 我耸了下肩膀。“真相也不能让夏伯特活过来，何况他还是个勒索者，他对汤姆·佛西斯所做的事，比勒索还坏。” "good." 我弯下身去，捡起一块石头。朝水里丢了过去。“我知道是你杀了他，菲利克斯。”这还是我第一次直呼他的名字。 “不错，”他又说了一遍。 “我也知道是怎么回事。在发现没办法勒索彼德·佛西斯之后，夏伯特想必转过来勒索你。你知道这场婚姻对你女儿有多重要，而你对汤姆也很有信心。所以你杀了夏伯特来封住他那肮脏的嘴巴。让我知道你的方法的，当然是那些钓鱼线。 “我们最早去搜查小屋的时候。卷线轮上的线散在地上。可是后来，等警方搜查那个地方的时候，地上什么也没有——局长这样说的。佛西斯早把小屋的钥匙给了你，你在半夜里，或是第二天一大早，到那里去把你那不可能的犯罪现场布置好，就是件很容易的事了。” “是早上，”他证实说，“太阳刚升的时候。” “你把钓鱼线很小心地安排好，那样等到拉紧的时候，会恰好升到夏伯特咽喉的高度。是你建议把他绑在柱子上的，然后你建议把窗子钉死。你在钉另外那边的窗子时——也就是我们关好门再锁上之后——你用你的身体挡住你真正在做的事——把钓鱼线卷起来，鱼线拉紧了，大约离地五吋左右，很自然地卡进他柔软的颈部。 “夏伯特当时仍然被绑住，动弹不得。你把鱼线飞快地卷紧，把他的喉咙割开，就像是世界大战期间，有几个伦敦居民被阻塞气球悬垂的绳索割喉而死的情况。窗子只要有不到一吋的空隙让钓鱼线能通过就行了。你把那把猎刀松松地绑在线尾，在刀上染了血迹。大概是鸡的血——” “是人血，”杜雷医生更正道，一面举起他绑了绷带的手指，“我不会只碰运气。” “等刀子碰到窗台时。就从线上拉脱，掉在地上。夏伯特死了。小屋由外面上了锁，整个魔术表演完成。他自己也不可能做得更好。” 菲利克斯·杜雷微笑道：“你忘了人的因素。钓鱼线很可能只不过是让他皮肤伤得很厉害，而他也可能尖叫求救。” “你钉钉子的声音——同时用你的另外一只手来卷收钓鱼线——能掩盖掉叫声，除非叫声很长，而你确定他的叫声不会久。这纯粹是我的猜想，可是我认为有一部分钓鱼线被你用你的特制工具所取代——就是你用来当骨锯的有刺钢丝。你一定会在你皮包里带着一小段，以备紧急状况的不时之需。” “你是一个聪明的年轻人，山姆医生。你的前途无量。” “我应该早就发现的，我们最初去搜查那间小屋的时候，那根钓竿就靠在窗子外面，刚才我看到你把钓竿拿起来——毁掉证据，你的钢丝直接由窗子出来，大约是夏伯特喉咙的高度，卷上你用左手操纵的卷线轮，一条假的钓鱼线通到竿顶，根本不会动，所以即使有人在你背后看你钉窗子，也不会知道卷线轮在动。” “你打算怎么办呢？”最后他问道。 我对着海水看了很久。“不是我打算怎么办，菲利克斯，而是要看你打算怎么办。” “我明白了，”他咬着下唇，“让我等到婚礼过后，好吗？” “好的。”他这一辈子已经救了很多人的性命，也许他还有机会再多救几个。
“那天晚上我和有些醉意的爱玻开车回到北山镇（山姆医生把故事说完），后来再没和菲利克斯·杜雷联络。夏伯特的案子以自杀结案，三个月后，也就是他女儿出嫁了几周之后，杜雷因为开车撞上波士顿邮政路上的一棵大树而身亡。 “可是那年夏天我心里还有别的事。比方说，就是那年夏天出了闹鬼的音乐台的案子，要是你还有时间再来——呃——一点喝的，我就可以跟你讲那个故事。你知道，当时大家都在准备大肆庆祝七月四号的国庆……”
Notes: 、《夜未央》等。
The magician's name was Julian Chabert, but maybe I'd better start with the brain surgeon because it was through him that I met Chabert.Even in a small town like North Hills, I've heard a lot of stories about the great Dr. Felix Dulay. In 1924, there weren't that many brain surgeons, and His fame spread from Boston like ripples growing in a pond. I have been practicing medicine in Beishan Township for about two years. A farmer who was seriously ill nearby put me in personal contact with Dr. Du Lei.After I decided that brain surgery was the only chance to save my patient's life.Just call the famous doctor at the Boston hospital.He was very willing to see my patients, so I drove to the city myself, using my Snap Arrow convertible as an ambulance.Dr. Durley operated on that night and saved the farmer's life. When I met him for the first time that day, I was struck by the calmness and modesty of the man.I expected to see a quick-tempered, confident man with wild white hair walking down the hospital corridors like a whirlwind, giving orders to nurses.In reality he was a nice man, about forty-five, soft-spoken, and taking no credit for anything. I was young enough to be his son, but he spent a lot of time explaining the procedure in detail.When I complimented his skills and said he was a pioneer of the latest technology in brain surgery.He just laughed at me and said, "Nonsense, Dr. Hawthorne! Is that what you call you? Dr. Hawthorne?" "Most call me Dr. Sam," I confessed. "Well, Dr. Sam, the technique of opening the skull is ancient, but I admit that surgery on the human brain progresses much more slowly than other surgical procedures. We know that prehistoric humans did trepanation, it's just that we don't Know the reason why it was done. There is also evidence of brain surgery in BC in Peru." Despite what he said, brain surgery was a rare practice in 1924.The few doctors who perform this procedure usually develop their own ingenious surgical instruments, and Dr. Felix Duré was no exception.When we first met.He showed me a probe with a small light attached, and a barbed wire that could be used as a bone saw.Today all kinds of equipment like these two are used in surgery, but in 1924, I could only stare in disbelief. To me, this man was a magician. I saw Dr. Durley two or three times that spring.Whenever I need to be in Boston for work, I visit him.Unlike the other country doctors I later met, I was not satisfied with living in Beishan Township, but wished to be acquainted with various progresses in the world around me.Some of Boston's large teaching hospitals are sources of knowledge.And knowledge goes a long way to my patients.So I'm going to ask for it. In late spring, Dr. Felix Duré mentioned his daughter's impending wedding. "Linda's a lovely, good girl," he said, with more than paternal pride. "She's just turned twenty. I think I still treat her like a child, but she's a young woman. And they They love each other deeply." "Did they meet in college?" Dr. Duley nodded. "Tom Forsythe is graduating in June and going to law school, of course I hope they wait a little longer, but you know what it's like with young people these days." Of course I knew, because I still considered myself a part of it. "Is she your only child?" He nodded sadly. "The house would be quite empty without her, and she used to come home on weekends even when she was at college, but I think Edith and I will get used to it." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "The groom's family has a summer house by the sea near Newberry Harbour. They're throwing an engagement party there for Tom and Linda on the third weekend in June. Will you and your wife do it?" I was too surprised to answer this invitation from someone I didn't know very well, and all I could think of was to say, "I'm not married yet." "Ah, then bring your girlfriend." "I'm afraid I have to ask my nurse, but are you sure it doesn't matter if I go?" "Of course! I like you, Dr. Sam, and I want my daughter to believe that my colleagues aren't all bearded old men. Give me your address and I'll send you the post."
My colleagues. On the way back to Beishan Town that day, these words kept echoing in my mind.I am a colleague of the most famous brain surgeon on the east coast.This is what he said. "Do you want to go to the engagement party?" I asked Aibo as soon as I entered the clinic.She is a happy fat woman in her thirties, and she has been my nurse since the day I arrived in Beishan Township. "Who's getting engaged?" she asked. "Daughter of Dr. Felix Duré." "My God, did they invite you?" "Will ask me, I'll take you with me, Aibo." I could see that this made her happy. "Would you like to go?" "Maybe, let me get used to the idea first." But as happy as she was, I don't think she really believed in it.It was not until two weeks later that the finely printed invitations arrived.The engagement party, which lasted all day from morning to night, was held at Forsyth's on Saturday.You can play tennis and swim.There will also be a special performance by world-renowned escape expert Julian Chabert. I really have to admit they know how to do it with style. Wait until the big day finally arrives on the third weekend of June.We were thankful that no wounded farmers or their pregnant wives interrupted at the last minute, and Ib and I set out early in the morning for the two hour drive to Port Newberry in my convertible.I've never seen her so well dressed, with her hair pulled all the way back, and a bell-shaped hat that matched her pale pink summer dress. "Do I look all right?" she asked as we drove out of town on the North Bridge. "Beautiful. You should dress like this in the clinic." "Oh. It's wrong for a nurse to dress like that!" she replied.Take my word for it.Then, after we had driven for a while in silence, she asked: "Who is this Julian Chabert?" "I guess you could call him a worse Houdini. He does the same getaway tricks. From what I've heard, his technique is just as good, but he lacks Houdini's showmanship." Over the past few years Houdini's name is often in the papers, either escaping from an underwater box, disappearing an elephant from a New York theater stage, or exposing a fake psychic conspiracy. "Will he perform today?" "I think so, but I don't know how the Forsyth family found him." The road to Newberry Harbor was narrow and bumpy, guided only by track marks.We won't have a numbered road network until two years from now.Driving long distances was quite risky back then. At last we arrived at Forsyth's mansion, which turned out to be a small but large white house, which sat right in the middle of the large land from the road to the sea.I could see that the sight made Aibo overwhelmed, and so did I. Fortunately Dr. Durley and his wife were present, and he greeted me politely with a handshake.I introduced Aibo to them. "I'm glad you two are here, this is my wife, Edith." She was a very pleasant woman with large diamond rings on her fingers. "Great to meet a young colleague of my husband's. Our daughter Linda said the doctors were all old men." "Your husband told me that too," I said. "Where are the happy couple?" "In the back with our master," Du Lei led the way around the big house, and we saw the huge tent that had been erected for the banquet.There must have been at least a hundred guests at the scene, and even though it was only noon, some guests were already drinking champagne cocktails. "We won't be arrested by the police," Du Lei seemed to see through my thoughts, and assured me, "The chief of police is also one of the guests." Linda Dooley and Tom Forsyth stood close to each other in a circle of congratulatory people.I had to admit that they were a real couple--she was a natural beauty who not only inherited but enhanced her mother's friendly good looks, and he had the allure of a rich kid that fascinated college girls and juries alike. Forsyth's parents, the hosts of the party, were a little unexpected.I expected them to be as pompous and charming as Dr. and Mrs. Durey, but they were not quite right.In fact, Peter Forsyth looked uncomfortable in an open-collared blazer and ice-cream-colored white trousers.I wondered what he did for a living, but decided not to ask.It's none of my business. "Do you work at Boston Hospital, too?" Mrs. Forsyth asked me, too much makeup and too much of a good mother-in-law.but.It's none of my business either. "No, I run a small clinic in Beishan Town, and this is my nurse, Aibo." "I really like your house," said Aibo. "There's nothing like it in North Hills." "Thank you," said Mrs. Forsyth, looking about nervously for her husband.A band started playing dance music at the other end of the tent. Suddenly, there was commotion and excited murmurs, and I saw Dr. Dooley nervously tugging at a bandaged finger and crane his neck to look. "Here comes Chabert," Linda Dooley announced. The crowd in front of me parted and he emerged, walking swiftly between us, black cape fluttering, all the air of a magician on stage.It seems that he is really a performer, and maybe he will be as successful as Houdini in the future.Peter Forsyth held out his hand, but instead of shaking his hand, the escape artist pointed to a short, bald man beside him. "This is Mark Ernest, my business manager. Some of you saw him last night. Are we ready for a show?" Forsyth nodded. "We're going to use the lobster shack on the shore, as we discussed last night." "Very well, you can choose a group of guests to search the hut, search me, and tie me up with rope or chain as they please. Leave me alone in the hut, and I will be taken out from the outside." Lock it, everyone can guard the hut, I will release all the restraints and come out of the hut within five minutes." As he spoke, my eyes were fixed on the face of the future groom.Tom Forsyth seemed unusually nervous, and I was trying to deduce why. "Doctor Sam." The voice calling my name interrupted my thoughts.Felix Dulay is speaking: "What do you think of Peter's suggestion that you join me?" "And our chief of police," Forsyth said, "is supposed to be an expert at locking people up." "I'll get him," said Mrs. Forsyth.She went there for a while before bringing back an overweight red-faced man. "Director Banner, this is Dr. Felix Duray, and Mrs. Duley. You know, Linda's parents." "It's a pleasure to meet you," said the bureau chief, shaking hands with Du Lei, and then pulled up his trousers. "And this is Dr. Sam Hawthorne, who came all the way from North Hills." I shook hands with him and introduced Aibo to him. "I hope you don't think public drinking like this is common," he said to us slyly, "but the Forsyths have a special place here, and, after all, it's a happy event—isn't it?" "Yes!" I agreed. "When is the wedding?" "The first Saturday in August, it's a big event." He reached into his pocket. "How about a cigar?" "No, thanks." "It's time we went over and inspected the lobster shack," suggested Dr. Durley. I walked behind Duley and the chief of police.Some of the guests followed us again, and the great lawn sloped gradually from the tent to the shore, about a hundred yards or so.There was a rocky shore with only a narrow beach, and at one point the land jutted out into the sea, and on the ground stood a small wooden house.Even from a distance, I could see the details of the hut—a door and two side windows.A little pier led from the door to the water, and a chimney let me know there was a fireplace. The three boats tied to the pier did not look like lobster fishermen's boats, and it was evident that the place had long since been abandoned for its original purpose.Even the old wooden lobster cages piled up near the door seemed to be there only for view, as if one of the two windows held a fishing rod. "Peter gave me the key," said Dr. Dooley, unlocking the door. "He's using this as his boathouse—a place for his fishing gear." The house is not as cluttered as I thought.There are several fishing rods and several reels for reeling the fishing line.There was a fishing line on a reel scattered on the ground.But other than that, the place is well kept and reasonably clean. "They also play surf-casting," Chief Banner said, "and the tackle is expensive." Felix Duré strode up to the wooden pillar in the middle of the room, which supported the roof and went from floor to ceiling. "The post looks strong enough," he said, after a tug, "and after they chained him up, we brought him in here and tied him to the post. Will you? Then we lock the door from the outside. If he can really walk out of this cabin in five minutes, I will admit that he is a magician." "We'd better search this place first," Chief Banner said, "to make sure he hasn't got a friend to hide here." After a careful search, nothing was found. In fact, there was no place to hide in this shrimp hut, except for a tall wooden cabinet against the wall.The inside of the cabinet is empty, while the wall behind the cabinet is solid. "Where's the chimney?" Chief Banner said as we were about to leave.We checked together and found that the small opening was blocked by a bird's nest at the top. "This fireplace hasn't been used for a long time," I said. We went back outside, and the large crowd of onlookers stood in a semicircle facing the lobster shack.I didn't see Julian Chabert at first, but then he emerged from the crowd, wearing a pair of bright green swimming trunks, and stood on the sloping grass.I heard a few of the female guests gasp when they saw his bare chest. Even the Olympic swimmer Jonny Weissmuller was still in a swimsuit. But I am not surprised.I had seen pictures of Houdini in the newspapers, chained and wearing only swimming trunks, about to perform his impossible escape.In fact, they say he once escaped naked from a cell in a New York City jail. Chabert's business manager stood aside with a smile on his lips, and Peter Forsyth stepped forward. "Okay, now we're going to have some of you come and chain him up." "Why don't you just invite the bridegroom and the bride?" someone shouted. "They should know what married life is like!" Linda and Tom picked up some long iron chains amidst everyone's laughter.They put chains around Chabert's arms and legs, so tight that he could barely hop into the shrimp shack.Several locks were brought out, inspected, and locked.It seemed that this person would not be able to break free on his own without external help. We took him into the cabin while the rest of the guests crowded around the open door to watch.Chief Banner took out a thick rope and looped it around Chabert's shoulders, and he stretched over the magician to do it.He tied a strong knot and bound the chained man to the strong wooden post.I took another rope and tied him around his knees.His hands were tightly bound in front of his body with iron chains, and the last iron chain locked him to the wooden post. "It's all well now!" declared Peter Forsyth with an expression almost triumphant, "tied up, rope, chains, almost naked. So you can see He didn't hide tools or keys." "As a last line of defense," suggested Dr. Dooley, "I'll nail the window with this hammer and nail." He went around outside while Peter Forsyth was about to bolt and lock the door. "Any last words to say?" Forsyth asked. Julian Chabert just smiled at us, showing no sign of discomfort. "I'll be with you in five minutes, and you can start timing me now." Forsyth slammed the door shut, drew the bolt, and added another lock.Over at the hut we heard that Dr. Dooley was nailed too. "I don't think it's really necessary," he said, turning to join us. "There were people on all sides of the hut, so no one could go in and release him without being seen." "Certainly," agreed young Tom Forsyth.I noticed that he held Linda's hand very tightly. I almost forgot about Abby, but she tugged down my sleeve and said, "Don't leave me again, Dr. Sam! I don't know anyone here." "I don't know either, Ib." I looked around at the eager, drunken faces I thought I'd never recognize.I'm just a country doctor.And these are characters from F. Scott Fitzgerald novels—like straight out of High Society or Vanity Fair or whatever. "Two minutes have passed," announced Peter Forsyth. Aibo and I walked over to where Mark Ernest, Chabert's business manager, was standing. "This must be commonplace for you," I said. The short, bald man shrugged his shoulders. "Each escape is a little different. He likes unusual venues, and it's not easy to find places that Houdini hasn't used." "How did he do it?" Mark Ernest only smiled. "Magic, doctor, is pure magic." "Only a minute left," Forsyth announced.We could feel the tension among the guests as they waited for the locked door of the lobster shack to open. "Thirty seconds!" All talking stopped.I saw Felix Duray squeeze his daughter's arm, saw Mrs. Forsyth pour another glass of champagne. "Ten seconds!" I watched a seagull slowly circle the sky, probably wondering what so many stupid humans were doing standing around a lobster shack on a hot July afternoon. "Five minutes is up!" Forsyth's voice was flat, even a little hoarse. Everyone stared at the cabin door. Nothing happened. We waited a full minute. Still nothing. "I think we tied him up too hard," Chief Banner said. Mark Ernest came forward to comfort Forsyth. "I've seen him do this trick at least a hundred times. Don't worry, he'll come out. It just took a little longer than usual." After the second minute that exceeded the time limit, the guests present were visibly disturbed.Peter Forsyth walked to the door and asked loudly: "Are you all right in there, Mr. Chabert?" No response. Mark Ernest stepped forward with a whispered curse. "I told you not to worry!" he pleaded. So we continued to wait for a while. After another five minutes, Tom and Linda tried to look in from the side windows, but the windows were all painted black from the inside.Can't see anything. At the end of seven minutes Forsythe said, "I'm going to unlock the door." I went up and stood beside him, and the door opened.The first thing I saw was a bloodstained hunting knife lying on the ground near the window.I pushed Forsyth away and walked into the hut first. "Tell everyone to stand back," I warned. Julian Chabert was still tied to the wooden post with rope and chain, but now his head was hanging at a strange angle, and he was dead without a doubt. With a hundred witnesses surrounding the hut, someone sneaked into the locked lobster shack unseen and slit Chabert's throat.
Chief Banner immediately stepped in to take charge, and he seemed secretly smug during an initial period of panic and confusion.Maybe he is enjoying temporarily being able to manage this group of rich people who own luxury houses in Linhai. "Now. Now!" he cried, "quiet! We've had a murder here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it! I've searched the cabin myself before—me, and these two doctors—we We all know there is no living creature hiding in there, we just searched again and got the same result. There is no one in there except the dead man. That is, someone killed him while we were all standing outside. killed him. Does anyone see anything now?" Mrs. Forsyth was the first to answer: "No one has ever been in that cabin, Chief Banner, not even anywhere near it." "He must have killed himself," said young Tom Forsyth. "Both hands tied and still chained?" Director Banner asked. "Also. Where was the knife originally?—in his throat?" Felix Dulay stepped forward.The level-headed professional brain surgeon has always had a lot of self-control. "He was murdered without a doubt. If we find out why he was killed, maybe we can find out who did it." "We don't even have anyone here who knows him," argued Peter Forsyth.He regarded this murder as deliberately messing up his wedding banquet. "He's just a hired show," he said, turning to Chabert's manager. "Speaking of which, I want my five hundred dollars back." Throughout the whole process, Mark Ernest's behavior is the strangest.The short, bald manager seemed alternately frightened and elated, moving sideways, his feet pulsating.But at the same time, he wiped away the tears from his eyes with trembling hands. "What shall I do without him?" he moaned. "He is my life!" I looked around at the wandering guests, not knowing what to do, and felt that order must be established out of chaos.Already a few people were getting ready to drive their cars across the great lawn, anxious to avoid getting involved in any disputes.Chief Banner saw this too, and ran ahead of them, drawing a revolver from his jacket. "Listen up everyone! I'm going to stand right in the middle of the lawn now, and if anyone tries to run past me, I'll get shot in the leg! Got it?" Everyone understood, and the great escape stopped immediately. But Peter Forsyth came running up, waving his hands. "Hey, Commissioner, you can't talk to my guests like that! My God! You treat them like ordinary criminals." I quickly stood between the two men. "Let's go inside," I suggested, "Mr. Forsyth, could I trouble you to prepare a guest list for us? Director Banner can check the names on the list first, and then let most of the people Leave, obviously none of them had anything to do with this crime." My suggestion seemed to appeal to all, and we marched our army into the big white house.Banner shook the phone to summon his men, and I used the time to pull Peter Forsyth aside and ask questions I wanted to ask myself. "How did you happen to have Chabert for a sideshow?" I asked. Forsyth nervously lit a cigar. "Holy shit, how did this happen to me? This is the worst kind of publicity ever." "How did you happen to have him?" I repeated. "He came to see me. One day last month he came into my office with his manager. He heard my son was getting engaged and suggested I get him to perform. Well, I thought it would be very Good sideshow." "Didn't you and your wife know Chabert or Ernest before?" He hesitated only for a second. "I don't know." "But—?" I encouraged him to go on. "But Tom might, I don't know." Chief Banner interrupted our conversation by striding into the room. "It's up to me to ask questions here, doctor." "Have your men arrived yet?" He nodded. "We'll find out. You needn't worry, Mr. Forsyth." I wandered into the big living room, saw Mark Ernest across the room, and walked over to him. He saw me and pointed to the high and ornate ceiling. "It's a beautiful place, er, doctor?" "Can I speak to you privately? Before Chief Banner comes to you?" "No problem, doctor, what are you thinking? Is there a performance you want me to arrange for you?" I lead him past a group of anxiously chattering guests, all of whom are getting more and more drunk.It didn't occur to Forsyth to put away the champagne.Although a large number of police are coming. After I brought Ernest safely into the study, I closed the door and said, "The death of your star doesn't seem to bother you too much." "Of course I'm sad! He's a good man!" "Is Julian Chabert his real name?" "No, that was the name of a French magician a hundred years ago, and he found it in a book." "What's his real name?" "Sammy Gorman, he's from New York, he learned his act from watching Houdini." "How did he try to get out of that cabin?" "Those are his secrets, and he hasn't even told me!" "But you must have some ideas." The little man moved nervously. "I can't tell you, maybe I can find another magician to replace Chabert." I try another method. "Chabert must have taken insurance, some of his stunts in the water are quite dangerous." "Of course he's insured." "Do you have a wife and children?" "He? Are you kidding me? He doesn't like women." "And who is his insurance beneficiary?" "Uh... I think it's me." "Very strong motive for murder, isn't it?" "Damn it, I didn't kill him." "Someone killed him." I tried to ask again, "How are you planning to escape?" "They won't put the blame on me, will they?" "maybe." "I'm outside, everyone sees me, I've never even been in there." "But maybe there is something in his method that allows you to kill him by remote control." "Okay," he said. "I'll tell you what I know, he keeps a key to those locks in his mouth, under his tongue, and as long as his hands are locked in front of his body, which he insists on, he can Spit out the key and catch it in your hand." "What about the rope?" "When you tie him up, he flexes his muscles." "And what about the locked door?" "He has several solutions. Do you have to know all his secrets?" "I think you've told me enough," I agreed, "except that maybe someone killed him—if it wasn't you." "Really, I don't know anything about that!" "Whose idea was it to come here?" "His, he read about the engagement in the newspaper." "Does he always go to rich people to ask him to perform?" "No, never before. But he thinks Forsyth might make him a lot of money. Says he's a bootlegger and ships things over." The revelation of this secret did not surprise me.In fact, this also says a lot of things. "Okay," I said, "stay around here and tell the chief of police what you said." I walked over to the French windows facing the back lawn. "Where are you going?" asked Ernest. "Go back to the lobster shack."
Director Banner's men were there now, carefully dismantling the body.Carefully inspect doors, windows, and every inch of the cabin. "There's nothing on the ground, and nothing has moved," Banner complained, "just as we did when we searched the place earlier, Doctor." "Have you checked the chimney again?" "Of course it was checked, and the window that Dr. Dooley had nailed up. There's no way to go any further. It's just out of the question." Felix Duré joined us at the door. "I probably opened the window and threw a throwing knife at him." Chief Banner snorted, "Sure! The thing is, you're hammering the nails in while we're still talking to him inside. And there's a hundred eyewitnesses who swore those two windows weren't opened either then or since." .” "That would be suicide," insisted Duley. "Anything else is out of the question!" He picked up a fishing rod that was leaning outside the cabin, and kicked an old lobster cage. While they were arguing, I stood and looked at the pile of old shrimp pots, the slats all broken and rotting.Haven't used it for a long time.I thought of Chabert being tricked into this hut like a lobster into a lobster trap.The only difference is that the lobster is still alive, but Chabert is dead. I saw Edith Dooley walking along the bank with one arm comfortingly round her daughter.I walked towards them. "Don't worry," I said reassuringly, "I'm sure the police will figure it out." But Linda Dooley was on the verge of tears. "They think Tom did it!" she sobbed. "What did you say? How could they say that?" "Tom obviously knows him," explained Mrs. Durley. "We don't know the details, but Chief Banner's men are questioning him right now." I left them, and hurried back into the house, anxious to know what was going on.Apparently Tom Forsyth had just been questioned.He stood in the living room, pale and trembling, talking to his father in a low voice.As soon as they saw me, both fell silent. I pointed to some of the guests who were leaving. "The police have checked them, are they all right?" Peter Forsyth nodded. "Thanks for your suggestion." "What's the matter with your son?" Tom looked away in embarrassment, and his father replied, "The bloody fool is too honest to think for himself, just to tell them he knows Chabert." "Where did you know him, Tom?" "New York, where I spent my summer last year." I'm starting to see a ray of light in the mist, and it's not a good light. "Chapbert told his manager that he thought he could get a good deal out of you, Mr. Forsyth, and he knew you were a bootlegger. I think he came here to blackmail you. Literally paying him Performance fee, you are actually paying to gag him.” Peter Forsyth frowned: "When you see Chief Banner, do you think he cares that I'm a booze smuggler?" "Maybe Chabert isn't blackmailing you for the whiskey, maybe he's blackmailing you for your son." Forsyth took one look at Tom, then at me and said, "How much do you know?" "Tom must have been pretty close friends with Chabert to tell him about his father being a bootlegger. And it was news of Tom's engagement that brought Chabert here, as his manager hinted. Chabert is gay—” "There," Tom Forsyth interrupted, his face contorted with pain. "It was a stupid crazy thing that happened last summer, but it was just one night. I was sad for months afterwards, and I wish I was with Linda, and I wish I could forget about it!" "Chabert wants money?" Peter Forsyth nodded. "Fifty thousand dollars in hush money." "How did you tell him?" "Tell him I know guys who'll cement him and sink him to the bottom of the ocean." "That scares him?" "It seems so. He didn't mention that again afterwards—only about today's performance." "When did all this happen?" "last night." "Is anyone else here?" "Not at the time of the talk. It was only after Felix and Edith Dooley got to talk to us about using the lobster hut for Chabert to perform escape tricks." “所以只有你和令郎知道勒索的企图。”我转身问汤姆：“你把这些事都告诉了警方？” “大部分都说了，我没说我父亲威胁他的事。” “好吧，”我走了开去。而一些要离开的客人正朝我们这边走过来。 其中之一是爱玻。“我已经由嫌犯名单上剔除了，我们就快动身了吗，山姆医生？” “是的，爱玻，快了。” 班纳局长出现在门口。“好了，你，医生，到捕虾小屋去，还有你，彼德。妈的，我要让你们看看那花招是怎么耍的。” “你是说你知道是谁杀了他？” “我是说我知道他是怎么自杀的。”
我们走了下去，站在小屋外面，班纳局长靠在里面那根木头柱子上，两手交叉在身前，就像那个死者一样。“现在，看这边。我们都知道夏伯特是一个——，呃，怪胎。随便你们怎么称呼他啦，反正他有毛病，所以他决定自杀，可是要死得像变魔术，我猜他是想上头条新闻。” “他不会自杀的，”马克·恩耐斯特在一旁很坚持地说。 “哦。不会吗？哎，我要让你们看看他是怎么做的！你告诉过我，恩耐斯特，说他把一支备份钥匙藏在他嘴里。呃，他就用那把钥匙打开铁链上的锁。伸手到上面取下他早就藏好的刀子，”他的两手伸到头上，刚好可以摸到天花板上的横梁，“他把钥匙放回他嘴里我们后来找到的地方，自己割了喉咙，把刀子丢开，在流血过多死亡之前，再把双手的锁锁上。” “看起来好像不是这样，”彼德·佛西斯说。 “是也罢，不是也罢，这是唯一的方法！里面没有别人和他在一起，也没有人进出过。我们所有的人全盯着看呢，他是自杀的——只有这个办法。”
警方人员开始收拾他们的器材，佛西斯一家向那栋大房子走回去，我走到码头上。在那里站了一阵，望着拍岸的海水。这时杜雷医生走了过来。站在我身边。 “你在想什么，山姆医生？你对班纳局长的解答满意吗？” “不满意，”我简单明了地回答道。“在自己割断喉咙之后，再把那些铁链锁回原状，可需要超人的力量。何况。你看到班纳局长得伸长了身子才够得到横梁，夏伯特比他矮多了。他不可能做得到的。” “你为什么不这样告诉局长呢？” 我耸了下肩膀。“真相也不能让夏伯特活过来，何况他还是个勒索者，他对汤姆·佛西斯所做的事，比勒索还坏。” "good." 我弯下身去，捡起一块石头。朝水里丢了过去。“我知道是你杀了他，菲利克斯。”这还是我第一次直呼他的名字。 “不错，”他又说了一遍。 “我也知道是怎么回事。在发现没办法勒索彼德·佛西斯之后，夏伯特想必转过来勒索你。你知道这场婚姻对你女儿有多重要，而你对汤姆也很有信心。所以你杀了夏伯特来封住他那肮脏的嘴巴。让我知道你的方法的，当然是那些钓鱼线。 “我们最早去搜查小屋的时候。卷线轮上的线散在地上。可是后来，等警方搜查那个地方的时候，地上什么也没有——局长这样说的。佛西斯早把小屋的钥匙给了你，你在半夜里，或是第二天一大早，到那里去把你那不可能的犯罪现场布置好，就是件很容易的事了。” “是早上，”他证实说，“太阳刚升的时候。” “你把钓鱼线很小心地安排好，那样等到拉紧的时候，会恰好升到夏伯特咽喉的高度。是你建议把他绑在柱子上的，然后你建议把窗子钉死。你在钉另外那边的窗子时——也就是我们关好门再锁上之后——你用你的身体挡住你真正在做的事——把钓鱼线卷起来，鱼线拉紧了，大约离地五吋左右，很自然地卡进他柔软的颈部。 “夏伯特当时仍然被绑住，动弹不得。你把鱼线飞快地卷紧，把他的喉咙割开，就像是世界大战期间，有几个伦敦居民被阻塞气球悬垂的绳索割喉而死的情况。窗子只要有不到一吋的空隙让钓鱼线能通过就行了。你把那把猎刀松松地绑在线尾，在刀上染了血迹。大概是鸡的血——” “是人血，”杜雷医生更正道，一面举起他绑了绷带的手指，“我不会只碰运气。” “等刀子碰到窗台时。就从线上拉脱，掉在地上。夏伯特死了。小屋由外面上了锁，整个魔术表演完成。他自己也不可能做得更好。” 菲利克斯·杜雷微笑道：“你忘了人的因素。钓鱼线很可能只不过是让他皮肤伤得很厉害，而他也可能尖叫求救。” “你钉钉子的声音——同时用你的另外一只手来卷收钓鱼线——能掩盖掉叫声，除非叫声很长，而你确定他的叫声不会久。这纯粹是我的猜想，可是我认为有一部分钓鱼线被你用你的特制工具所取代——就是你用来当骨锯的有刺钢丝。你一定会在你皮包里带着一小段，以备紧急状况的不时之需。” “你是一个聪明的年轻人，山姆医生。你的前途无量。” “我应该早就发现的，我们最初去搜查那间小屋的时候，那根钓竿就靠在窗子外面，刚才我看到你把钓竿拿起来——毁掉证据，你的钢丝直接由窗子出来，大约是夏伯特喉咙的高度，卷上你用左手操纵的卷线轮，一条假的钓鱼线通到竿顶，根本不会动，所以即使有人在你背后看你钉窗子，也不会知道卷线轮在动。” “你打算怎么办呢？”最后他问道。 我对着海水看了很久。“不是我打算怎么办，菲利克斯，而是要看你打算怎么办。” “我明白了，”他咬着下唇，“让我等到婚礼过后，好吗？” “好的。”他这一辈子已经救了很多人的性命，也许他还有机会再多救几个。
“那天晚上我和有些醉意的爱玻开车回到北山镇（山姆医生把故事说完），后来再没和菲利克斯·杜雷联络。夏伯特的案子以自杀结案，三个月后，也就是他女儿出嫁了几周之后，杜雷因为开车撞上波士顿邮政路上的一棵大树而身亡。 “可是那年夏天我心里还有别的事。比方说，就是那年夏天出了闹鬼的音乐台的案子，要是你还有时间再来——呃——一点喝的，我就可以跟你讲那个故事。你知道，当时大家都在准备大肆庆祝七月四号的国庆……”
Notes: 、《夜未央》等。