Chapter 18 Section VIII

In the week following Talbot's funeral, New England clergymen lavished effusive praise on their late colleague.And on the following Sunday their sermons were full of the commandment not to kill.As no progress seemed to be made in the murders of Talbot and Healy, the reporter asked how it was possible that two of the most important citizens had been murdered and that the murderers were still at large.Where did the appropriation passed by the city council to improve the efficiency of police handling cases go?One newspaper sarcastically said that the money was spent on the uniforms worn by the police officers, and that the shiny number numbers were silver.Since the police can't even touch the criminals, and all kinds of weapons are useless, why should all the citizens criticize the criminals?

What about Kurtz's application to allow police officers to bear firearms? Nicholas Ray sat at his desk reading such criticism with interest. Kurtz privately asked Officer Ray what he thought of the murder.Ray thought about it.He is different from others, he will never open his mouth without thinking clearly about the problem, but once he speaks, he can always express his meaning clearly. "If a soldier tries to desert and is caught, the whole army will be ordered to assemble in the training area, where there is an unsealed tomb with a coffin next to the tomb. The deserters are escorted past us, and the army chaplain and Next to him, and then ordered him to sit on the coffin, and blindfolded him, bound his hands and feet. The squad he belonged to stood by. Ready, aimed... The gunshot sounded, and he fell headfirst into the coffin and died. , and buried on the spot, without leaving a trace on the ground. And we shrugged our shoulders and went back to the barracks."

"Could it be that Healy and Talbot were murdered to serve as an example to others?" Kurtz seemed a little skeptical. "A deserter may well be shot in the brigadier's tent or in the woods, or court-martialed. This public act shows that the deserter will be abandoned by the troops, as he has abandoned them. Slaveholders use similar methods to warn others who try to Runaway slaves. The fact that Healy and Talbot were killed may not be of particular importance. What matters is that we are dealing with their punishment. We must stick to the predetermined course of action."

Kurtz was fascinated, but not persuaded, "That's a good point. Who punished, officer? For what crime? If there are people who want us to learn from these actions, then we can Isn't it easier to express his intentions in a way that is understood? Naked corpses, flags, feet on fire. It doesn't make sense at all!" But to someone, they must make sense, Ray said to himself.Maybe he and Kurtz are not on the list. "Do you know Holmes?" Ray asked Kurtz in another conversation.He was accompanying the chief of police down the steps of the State Capitol to the waiting carriage below.

"Holmes." Kurtz shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, "poet, doctor. Social gadfly. Old Professor Webster's friend before the gallows. Someone who didn't admit Webster's crimes until the end." One. He wasn't very helpful in doing Talbot's post-mortem." "Yeah, it's not very helpful," said Ray, thinking of Holmes' nervousness at the sight of Talbot's feet. "I don't think he's well. He's got asthma." "Yes, psychological asthma," Kurtz said. After the discovery of Talbot's body, Ray had shown Commissioner Kurtz two dozen small paper heads that he had picked up on the ground next to the pothole.These paper heads were all small squares, about the size of a carpet nail, and each piece had at least one printed letter on it, and some of them could be faintly seen from the back of the printing.Due to the long-term invasion by the moisture in the tomb, some of the paper heads have been stained and cannot be recognized.Kurtz wondered why Ray was interested in the waste paper.His trust in his mulatto officer was somewhat weakened by it.

Lei didn't care about this, he carefully arranged the papers on the table.He was as sure that the scraps of paper had their value and were not meaningless, as sure as the window jumper had whispered to him.He recognized the letters on twelve of them: e, di, ca, t, I, vic, B, as, im, n, y, and one also e.One of the smeared headers had the letter g written on it, but it was probably also the letter q. When he wasn't driving Chief Kurtz to visit the deceased's acquaintances or meet with the deputy police inspectors, Ray would sneak out of his trouser pocket and arrange the letters randomly on the table.Occasionally he could piece together a few words, and when he formed phrases, he would look them up in the dictionary for their meanings.He closed his pale golden eyes tightly, and opened them wide again.Unknowingly, a kind of expectation arose in his heart, expecting that between the opening and closing of the eyes, those letters would automatically form sentences, explaining to him what had happened or telling him what to do, like a wizard's pan like that.It is said that, under the operation of a powerful psychic, the psychic pan can spell out the words of the deceased.One afternoon Ray combined the last words of the man who had jumped out of a police station window, or at least what he had recorded, with these new jumbles of paper, hoping that the two silent languages ​​were somehow connected.

He came up with a favorite combination for those rambling letters: Icantdieasim... He always gets stuck here, but it's already made up, doesn't it make a little sense?He tried another combination: BeviceasI... But how to arrange the g or q on the dirty paper? The General Directorate receives a flood of letters every day full of courageous confessions, but not a single word of it is to be believed. Lei opened an anonymous letter. The letter was very short and only wrote two sentences, but the more he looked at it, the more he felt that there was something wrong with it: the letter paper was of good quality, the font was short and thick, and the lines were not coherent—the writer deliberately concealed His actual handwriting, though not particularly obvious:

Dig deep into the pothole the pastor fell into.There's something under his head that you're missing. The inscription is "Sincerely, a citizen of this city". "What's missing?" Kurtz scoffed. "This letter is neither drawing conclusions nor falsifying facts," said Ray, with great fervor. "The writer was only trying to reveal something. And, please remember: The newspapers explain Talbot's death in a moment like this, Explained like that for a while, contradicting each other. We must make the most of this letter. The writer knows the real situation, at least he knows that Talbot was buried in the pit, and that he fell head over heels. You see, Chief," Ray read aloud, pointing, "'under his head.'"

"Ray, I have a lot of questions to deal with! The Boston Evening Post interviewed a certain gentleman at City Hall to confirm that when Talbot's body was found, his clothes were like Healy's." In that way, they are piled up in a pile. Their interviews will be published in the newspaper tomorrow, and then all the citizens of this cursed city will know that although the victim has two names, the murderer has only one. Then, the citizens will not pay attention to It would be a 'criminal act', but who actually did the murder." Kurtz turned the conversation back to the letter, "Well, why doesn't the letter just say exactly what 'thing' we could find in that pothole? What is it? Also, why didn’t this citizen come to our police station and tell me what he knew?”

Ray didn't answer. "Just let me go to the tomb to have a look, Director Kurtz." Kurtz shook his head, "Ray, you are not unaware that the pulpits of the entire Federation are viciously criticizing us. We can't go to the crypt of the Second Church to dig up that imaginary relic!" "Even if we don't check it now, it will happen eventually," Ray argued. "Exactly. But I don't want to be the gossip, Sergeant." Ray nodded, but his sureness remained undiminished.Regarding Director Kurtz's refusal to agree, although Lei did not object aloud, he did not take it seriously in his heart.In the evening, Kurtz grabbed his coat, walked over to Ray's desk, and ordered, "Officer, come with me to Cambridge, Second Unitarian Church, immediately."

The new sexton, a businessman with a red beard, ushered them into the church.He explained that his predecessor, Greg, had become increasingly deranged since the discovery of Talbot's body, and had resigned to recuperate.The sexton fumbled to find the key to the catacombs. "Better find that thing," Kurtz warned Ray, as the stench from the tomb filled his nostrils. With a few shovels with a long-handled shovel, Ray dug up the bag of money that Longfellow and Holmes had reburied at the bottom of the hole. "A thousand dollars. Not more than a thousand dollars, Commissioner Kurtz." Ray counted by the light of the gas lamp. "Chief," Ray said, already aware of the unusualness, "Chief Kurtz, do you remember what the people from the Cambridge Police Department told us the night Talbot's body was found? They Said, the day before the pastor was killed, he reported that his safe had been broken into." "How much was stolen?" Lei shook the purse in his hand. "A thousand dollars." Kurtz was a little skeptical, "Okay then. God knows, whether this will help us solve the case or make the case more confusing. If the truth is that on a certain night, Langdon Paisley Or Willard Burndy broke open the pastor's safe and then brutally killed him, then I'm not human! If they did it, how could they keep this thousand dollars? To pay for Talbot's trip to the underworld?!" Just then Ray almost stepped on a bouquet Longfellow had left there.He picked up the bouquet to show Kurtz. "No, no, I have not let anyone else into the tomb," said the sexton, returning to the chapel, "and the door to the tomb has been locked since . . . that happened." "So your predecessor probably did it. Where can I find Mr. Greg?" asked Chief Kurtz. "Here it is. Every Sunday, he will come to church to worship as much as possible." The sexton replied. "Very well, please tell him to come to us at once. Here is my card. If he has granted anyone access to the tomb, we shall know." Back at the police station, there are many things to attend to.Had to talk again to the Cambridge police officer who took Talbot's report of the safe theft; had to go through the bank to check that the thousand dollars came from Talbot's safe; Bridge's neighbors asked what happened the night the safe was broken into, and had to ask an expert to do a handwriting test on the text message that provided clues. Ray could see that Kurtz was enjoying himself, for the first time since Healy's murder.He was almost dizzy with joy. "Ray, it's all about being a good cop, instinct. Sometimes we just have to rely on it. Frustrations in life, setbacks at work, each time it takes a little bit away. I almost wrote this letter Text messages are thrown away as garbage, thanks to you I didn't do that. Tell me, what else are we supposed to do but not doing?" Ray smiled and expressed his thanks. "There must be such a thing. Tell me." "My words may not please you, Chief," Ray replied. Kurtz shrugged. "Just don't mention your damn paper." For the special care of the director general, Lei often appreciates it or accepts it, but there is one thing he hopes the director can facilitate.He went to the window and looked out at the woods outside the police station. "There, there is a danger that we haven't noticed. Director, the unknown person felt this danger when he was brought into the headquarters, and he was scared to death. I want to know the one who died in our yard. Who is the person."