John Kurtz, the chief of the Boston police, was sandwiched between the two maids and took several deep breaths to make himself more comfortable.On the one side, the Irish maid who found the body was weeping and reciting prayers. Her Catholic prayers mixed with sobbing sounded a little strange, and she couldn't understand them, which made Kurtz's hair stand on end; on the other side, was The niece of the Irish maid, she was silent and desperate.There were plenty of chairs and couches in the living room, but the two women wanted to crowd around the guest to entertain him.They sat down on both sides of the director, and the couch covered with black upholstery immediately rattled. Kurtz hurriedly held the teacup firmly, for fear that the tea would spill out.

As the head of the first bureau, Kurtz has seen a lot of murders and the like. Anyway, he is really not good at appeasing the family members.Deputy Commissioner Edward Savage, who also writes poetry now and then, might be better at it. This——Director Kurtz could only bear to refer to the horrific event as "this"—was much more than a murder.You know, the one who was killed was a celebrity in Boston, a gentleman.What is even more shocking is that the victim himself turned out to be the highest judge of the Massachusetts court. "This incident" is not only a matter of killing people, but also almost destroying the body of the judge.

The scruffy Chief Kurtz shuddered when Edna Healy entered, and the mustard scum fell from his bushy beard. "You can't have found Judge Healy, Commissioner Kurtz," she said, and asked him to sit down. "Unfortunately, your telegram was superfluous. You must have made a mistake. The three of us went to Provis In the past few days when Deng Si left relatives, the justice has been staying and is still working in Beverlyan with peace of mind. He will not come back until tomorrow." Kurtz didn't want to contradict her directly. "Your maid," he said, pointing to the larger of the two, "found his body, madam. Outside the house, near the river."

"It seems that it happened a few days ago. I think your husband didn't go to the country at all." As soon as the words came out, Kurtz worried that he had spoken too bluntly. Edna Healy began to weep slowly, like a dead pet in the family.The tawny feathers on her hat fluttered up and down, elastic and majestic. The maid Nell looked at Mrs. Healy with concern, and then said in a merciful tone: "You can come back later, Director Kurtz, if you like." Hearing the maid's order, John Kurtz was secretly delighted, tried his best to put on a serious expression appropriate to the situation, and walked towards the police carriage.His new coachman, a young and handsome police officer, saw the chief approaching and hastily put down the step of the carriage.

Kurtz hadn't gone far when there was a shrill scream, which made the dozen or so chimneys of the Healy House resound slightly.Kurtz turned his head to watch, and saw Edna Healy come running, her feathered hat flying, her hair dancing in the wind.She ran up the front steps, picked up a milky white thing with a pattern and threw it straight at the chief's head. Kurtz stepped on the hem of his coat, staggered, and fell on the soft, sunny grass.The vase thrown by Mrs. Healy hit the thick oak tree (it is said that this manor is named after the oak forest), and it was smashed into pieces, blue pieces, milky white pieces, scattered all over the place.I am afraid that this kind of matter should really be handled by the deputy director, Savage, Kurtz thought to himself.

"He did no harm! Neither did we! Whatever they say to you, Chief, we didn't deserve this! We didn't deserve it at all! Now I'm all alone!" Edna Healy Raising his clenched fist, he shouted, "I know who did it, Commissioner Kurtz! I know who! I know!" Kurtz was taken aback by this. The old house had never been so silent. It was common for Edna Healey to leave for her natal family; her natal family in Providence, the hardworking Sullivans.Her husband stayed home with a property dispute between two of Boston's largest banks.The judge murmured his usual affectionate farewell to the family, and as soon as Mrs. Healy was gone he sent the servant home with magnanimity.His wife couldn't do anything without a servant, and Healy liked to be alone for a while.The next day he would set off for Beverly to spend the weekend in the quiet office.The next case wasn't due until Wednesday, when he could take the train back to Boston and be back at the courthouse.

Nell Lanney, the Irishman who had been exiled to his family for twenty years as a maid, returned on Monday.On this day, she found the dried blood stains next to the closet, and found another blood stain on the stairs.She guessed that some wounded animal got into the house and must have come out the same way. Then she spotted a fly under the drawing-room curtains, opened the window, and drove it away with a shrill hiss and a wave of the feather duster.But when the long mahogany dining table was wiped down, it reappeared.She thought it must be the new Negro cook who had been careless in cleaning the kitchen, had left the crumbs undisturbed, and had attracted the flies.

To Nell the buzzing of the fly was as piercing as a locomotive.She rolled up a copy of the North American Review to swatt the flies.The swatted fly was twice the size of the housefly and had three circles of black markings on its bluish-green body.What a strange look!Nell Lanney muttered.If Judge Healy had seen the fly's head, he would have murmured admiration before throwing it in the wastebasket: the two bulging eyes, nearly half the size of the torso, were strikingly yellow; They glow a strange orange or red, somewhere in between, yellow and black.It was copper, the color of swirling flames.

The next morning she came back to clean the upstairs.As soon as she entered the door, a fly flew past her nose like a flying arrow, making her furious.She picked out one of the judge's thick, heavy magazines and chased the flies up the stairs.She took off her shoes and her big bare feet stepped on the warm carpet on the stairs, tracking the flies into Healy's bedroom.