Chapter 5 frank

One morning after Helen's burial, Barry sat alone in the living room drinking. He looked very sadly at an oil painting hanging on the opposite wall, which was painted by a famous artist especially for his wife.The Helen on the screen is extremely beautiful, not only because of the artist's superb skills, but also because Helen herself is a very beautiful and charming woman.Unfortunately, at a cocktail party held last Saturday, she was killed and left this world forever. Barry was thinking silently while drinking the stuffy wine.At this moment, the phone rang, and it turned out that it was Officer Miller who was in charge of investigating the murder of Helen.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Barry, our investigation has not made any new progress." Officer Miller said to Barry on the phone, "We have tried everything we can, but we still have nothing. Frankly speaking, your wife I am afraid there is nothing we can do about this case, unless..." "Unless what?" Barry asked. "Unless the murderer turns himself in." Officer Miller said in a guilty tone. Barry was silent for a while, and said: "Well, I believe you have tried your best. Officer Miller, today I am going to leave this house and go to a club in the city for a while, mainly to relax... Excuse me, what are you looking for?" Do I have anything else to do?"

"Yes. Mr. Barry, I would also like to ask, have you read your letter?" "Letters?" Barry turned his head and glanced, there was a pile of unopened letters and postcards on the table. "Does this have anything to do with my wife's case?" Barry asked. Since his wife was killed last week, Barry has not been in the mood to open those letters. He knows that most of them are written by relatives, friends and colleagues to comfort him. "We speculate that the murderer may have sent a condolence letter or postcard as well," Officer Miller explained. "Could it be that he killed my wife and sent a letter of confession hypocritically to comfort my grief?" Barry said, "I don't believe it!"

"Mr. Barry, you have misunderstood," said Officer Miller. "We suspect that the murderer may be a friend of yours. He killed your wife and then sent a condolence card to cover up people's ears. There have been such cases before. Case. So, I want you to examine those letters carefully, and if the murderer sent letters, you can find some clues from his wording. Tomorrow I will go and examine those letters myself." "Okay," Barry said listlessly, "but I can't believe it! The people who attended the cocktail party last Saturday were all my business friends. How could they kill my wife?"

"But the problem is, everyone at the party admitted that they drank too much, and you didn't even say the same?" "Indeed," Barry said with a wry smile, "at that time, everyone was indeed drunk, and the scene got out of control for a while. Fortunately, it was held on the seashore, otherwise the neighbors would definitely protest." "Mr. Barry, according to our conjecture, the course of the case should go like this," said Inspector Miller. "During the cocktail party, your wife was alone in the clearing in the woods. Drunk and flirting with her, your wife resisted desperately, the man picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at it, but he accidentally beat her to death. Since the crime took place some distance away from the scene of the reception, no one noticed it. Afterwards, That person sneaked into the guests at the reception again, and finally fled the scene."

Barry didn't want to recall what happened that night, but he still asked: "How can you be sure that it wasn't done by a passer-by?" "It's absolutely impossible to be a passer-by, Mr. Barry," said Officer Miller. "Think about it, that piece of waterfront is your private domain. There is a fence around the house, and there are constant patrol cars on the surrounding roads. The passer-by is Those who dare not commit crimes there... I know that you do not want to accept the fact that the murderer is your friend, but I am afraid that is the case." "Okay, I understand. I will cooperate with you and check the letter carefully." After speaking, Barry put down the phone.

Barry poured a glass of whiskey, walked slowly to the portrait of his wife, and raised his glass to greet the smiling Helen in the painting. He couldn't help recalling the scene when the incident happened: "... when the guests found Helen's body, With a painful expression on her face, she was lying in a grove near the seashore, her clothes had been torn, and the soil was soaked in blood from her head. It was as if she had hit her head with a stone and left. The way he looked at the time... The reason why I wanted to kill my wife was because she had an affair with Carmon. I originally wanted to kill my wife and put the blame on Carmon, but unfortunately this didn't happen because I didn't think of it, Before the guests found his wife's body in the woods, Carmon regained consciousness and quickly fled the scene..."

Thinking of this, Barry shook his head vigorously, trying to forget about it completely.Fortunately for him, although Carmon was not blamed, at least so far, the police have not suspected that he did it himself. Barry is an experienced salesman. He knows that if he wants to sell products to others, he must first convince himself that this product is the best.Therefore, when faced with the murder of his wife, he must first convince himself that he has nothing to do with the death of his wife. Just as Barry fell into reverie, the doorbell rang suddenly, which almost made him jump out of his chair in fright.He listened carefully, and found that the bell was not coming from the front door, but from the back door—there were very few people ringing there.Barry stood up, walked suspiciously across the kitchen, and opened the back door.

The person standing at the door surprised Barry, it was actually Carmon! Carmon's face was pale, without a trace of blood.He didn't speak, and walked straight into Barry's living room.Barry closed the back door and followed Carmon into the house, and the two sat down in the living room. "Carmon, why are you?" Barry asked in surprise, "Why don't you go through the front door?" "Did you see it?" Carmon said dejectedly. "See what?" Barry said. "I don't understand." "I accidentally killed your wife," Carmon said with a sad face, "I wrote you a letter yesterday, in which I admitted what I did - I killed your wife."

"It's you?" "Yes. But I don't know why I did that." Carmon said almost in tears, "I was drunk that day, and when I was walking in the woods, I saw your wife standing there alone. She was so beautiful. Beautiful and charming, I really can't control myself, just..." At this point, Carmon covered his face with his hands and began to cry. Hearing Carmon's words, Barry was almost stunned. He never expected that Carmon would believe that he killed Mrs. Barry.It's no wonder that Carmon was drunk that day and passed out in the woods. When he woke up, he found Mrs. Barry's body lying beside him, and he was holding a blood-stained stone in his hand...

"I didn't expect that Carmon took the initiative to take all the blame on himself." Barry secretly delighted, "It seems that this move is better than expected!" "Barry, I don't remember anything about that day at all," Carmon whimpered. "At that time, I was talking to her while walking towards her. Later, I didn't know anything... When I woke up Finally, she is dead...God! I killed her..." "What about the letter?" Barry asked. "After the incident, I couldn't calm down and my conscience was tortured, so I wrote you a letter, admitting that I was the murderer, and hurriedly sent it to you when I still had a little courage. .” After finishing speaking, Carmon took out a pistol from his coat pocket, held it in his hand, stared at it, and said, "Barry, do you know? After that incident, I thought of suicide, but...but, I I can't, I don't have the courage." "Carmon, I received your letter, but before I could open it, the letter is on the table behind you." Barry said. "I didn't even intend to kill your wife, but God knows, why did this happen?" Carmon lamented, "I should have committed suicide to apologize, or surrendered to the police, but this morning, I also thought clearly, I still have my wife and children, I have to think about them, I can't let them lose their husbands and fathers, so I want to ask you to return that letter." "What? You want to answer that letter? Don't dream!" Barry roared, "That is the best evidence of your murder, I will not let you be destroyed!" "I knew you would be like this, so I brought 'this'." After finishing speaking, Kamon suddenly pointed his gun at Barry and said fiercely, "I'm sorry, you have to hand over that letter, and at the same time, I also You must be killed!" Barry was dumbfounded at this moment, and he said with tears: "No! Carmon, listen to me, you made a mistake, you didn't kill my wife!" "What did you say?" Camon asked suspiciously. "It was I who killed my wife! Because I... I saw you in the woods..." "You're talking nonsense!" Carmon said, "I saw your wife alone in the woods the other day, and I molested her... by being drunk, but she resisted, so I..." "No! Carmon, you're drunk! The truth is," Barry screamed, "that day, she didn't refuse you! I saw her hugging you on the grass. Later, you passed out drunk, While she was looking down, I approached you from behind and hit the back of her head with a rock... and then I put that bloody stone in your hand." "It would be great if it's what you said, but that stone is in my hands. I killed your wife..." Carmon shook his head and said. "No, no, no! Don't think so, it's not you, it's me!" Barry cried out in despair. "Barry, it's come to this point, I have no choice!" Carmon pulled the trigger and murmured, "If only there was another way." Perhaps in the last few seconds of Barry's life, he was also thinking: "If only there was another way!"