Chapter 41 Section VIII

There was a unanimous sense of accomplishment in the room, and they waited for Longfellow's nod of approval, which he returned with a quiet smile. "Three cheers for Holmes!" Lowell yelled. "Why not nine?" Holmes put on a weird pose. "I can afford it!" Standing at the secretary's desk, Augustus Manning tapped his fingers on the edge of the desk and said, "Simon Kemp still hasn't responded to my invitation for him to come in for an interview?" Manning's secretary nodded and said, "Yes, sir. The people at the Marlboro Hotel said that he no longer lives there, and he did not leave an address. His whereabouts are unknown."

Manning was furious, turning blue and purple with anger.He didn't quite trust Detective Pinkerton, but he didn't expect him to be such a complete liar either. "Don't you think it's strange that a policeman came to ask about Lowell's course, and then Detective Pinkerton, who I paid for, disappeared?" The secretary was noncommittal, but agreed uneasily, seeing that Manning was waiting for an answer. Manning turned to face the windows facing Harvard Square. "I bet it was Lowell. Tell me again, Mr. Cripps, who are taking Lowell's Dante lessons? Edward Sheldon and... Pliny M. De, right?"

The secretary consulted a bundle of papers and said, "Exactly, Edward Sheldon and Pliny Mead." "Pliny Mead, a tall student." Manning said, stroking his strong mustache. "Well, yes, sir. But he was behind in the last rating." Manning turned to look at him, apparently interested in the news. "That's right, his ranking in the class has dropped by about twenty places." The secretary explained, and found materials to prove that he was right, with a very proud expression. "Oh, it's gone down pretty fast, Dr. Manning! Looks like it's mostly down from Lowell's French class last term."

Manning took the material in the secretary's hand and read it. "What a disgrace to us Mr. Meade," said Manning, with a flicker of a smile. "A dreadful shame." Fields did not come home until one o'clock in the morning, much to the annoyance of Anne Fields.She wrapped her nightgown tightly and walked towards the stairs, "A few hours ago, an errand runner on the corner rushed here to find you." "Come to see me so late?" "He said you had to get up there right away, or the police would be there first." Fields was about to follow Anne upstairs, but then rushed to his office in Tremont Street and found Osgood, the senior clerk, in the back room.The receptionist was curled up in a comfortable armchair, covering her face with her hands, weeping.Dan Thiel, on the night shift, sat in silence with a cloth over his bleeding lip.

"What's the matter? Well, what's the matter with Miss Emery?" Fields asked. "It's Samuel Tickner." Osgood hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. "After get off work, Tickner kissed Miss Emery behind the counter. She struggled and shouted. Shouted him to stop, and then Mr. Teal intervened. I'm afraid it was Teal who overpowered Mr. Tickner with his hands." "If I know anything about human nature, Osgood, this girl is a very pure person. Mr. Teal," Fields asked, turning to the chap, "what Miss Emery said you Did you see it all with your own eyes?"

Teal's mouth moved up and down habitually, and he replied slowly, "Sir, I was getting ready to go home from get off work when I saw Miss Emery resisting and begging Mr. Tickner to let me go." She. So I punched him until he let go." "Good boy, Teal," said Fields, "I'll remember your kindness." Teal murmured, not knowing how to answer, "Sir, I've got another job I've got in the morning. I work as a porter at the university during the day." "Oh?" Fields said. "This job is very important to me." Thiel added quickly, "If you have any other orders, sir, please speak up."

"I want you to write down what you see, and write it here before you leave, Mr. Teal. We've got to have a record in case the police come in," Fields said.He motioned for Osgood to give Teal a pen and paper.It took Teal a lot of effort to write a few words.Only then did Fields realize that he only knew a little about writing and ink, almost illiterate. "Mr. Teal," he said, "you dictate Mr. Osgood's record, so that it will be more formal." Relieved, Teal immediately agreed, handing the pen and paper back to Osgood. A whole week has passed without any progress.Holden sent a messenger to reply to Fields that he hadn't lost the proof.The light of hope dimmed.Nicholas Ray felt he was being watched more and more closely at the police station, but he managed to meet Willard Burndy one more time.The interrogation had exhausted the safe-burglar to the point of death.He didn't move, didn't speak, and looked lifeless.

Burndy looked Ray over and said listlessly, "You could say I broke Talbot's safe. But I didn't really do it. You wouldn't believe it. Some idiot said he would Give me two hundred bucks if I instruct him to break a special safe. I think it's a piece of cake--and I won't get caught! As a gentleman, I don't really know that The house belonged to the pastor! I didn't kill him! If I did, how could I put the money back with him!" "Why are you going to Talbot's house?" "It's not just for scouting. The idiot seems to know that Talbot is not at home, so he sent me to check the layout of the house secretly. After I went in, I checked the type of safe and came out." Berndy said with a stupid Laughing stubbornly defended himself, "I didn't hurt anyone at all, did I? The safe is a common one. It only took me five minutes to explain to him how to pry it. I even drew it on the box I brought out from the hotel. It's on a napkin. I should have known that idiot was out of his head. He told me he only wanted a thousand dollars, and he'd never ask for a dime more. Don't you think that's weird? Look, Black Ghost, you can't say I stole the vicar's money, or I'm sure I'm going to the gallows! It's the man who paid me to break the safe, that's the madman—Talbot, Healy, and Phoenix He killed Janison!"

"Then you tell me who gave you the money," said Ray quietly, "or you'll be hanged, Mr. Burndy." "It was one night, I had a few extra drinks, you know, I came out of the Stackpole Hotel. Now think about how time flies, I was like a dream, woke up changed It became a reality. I really didn't pay attention to what he looked like, or I don't remember it at all." "Did you see nothing or do you remember nothing, Mr. Burndy?" Burndy smacked his lips twice and said reluctantly, "One thing I'm sure of. He's one of you." Ray waited, "A black man?"

Berndy's bloodshot eyes lit up, as if he was feeling better. "No! It's a big northerner. A veteran!" He tried to calm himself down. "He's sitting there, in full uniform, and he looks like a soldier waving the flag at the Battle of Gettysburg." !" Soldiers' Aid in Boston are local civic organizations that don't run a big publicity campaign and are only known to exist by the soldiers who rely on them.Most aid centers prepare food for soldiers and distribute it two or three times a week.Six months after the war ended, City Hall became increasingly reluctant to fund these institutions.The better aid centers are usually in cooperation with churches.These churches were ambitious, and in addition to supplying food and clothing, they also tried to reach these veterans by preaching to them.

The last Soldiers' Aid seemed to be well organized.It was housed in an unused Unitarian church that had been used as a makeshift shelter during a long battle with Congregationalists. "It's really crowded." Lowell said, he leaned into the chapel and saw that the back benches inside were full of soldiers in blue uniforms, "Let's go in and sit down, at least we can rest our feet. " "Oops! Jamie, I don't see how it's going to help us. Maybe we should move on to the next one on the list." "There is no next one today." "You two are new here today," interjected a one-eyed soldier, his face tense and pockmarked, and a black clay pipe dangling from his mouth.Holmes and Lowell were not prepared to talk to someone at all, and were taken aback by the soldier's interruption. They didn't know what to say, and looked at each other. The soldier walked towards the church, then turned around and said, a little displeased, "I'm sorry. I thought you were coming in to hear Dante's lecture." Lowell and Holmes were both dumbfounded, thinking they were dreaming. "Don't go, you!" cried Lovell, who was so excited that he was talking incoherently. The two poets rushed into the chapel and found it completely dark.Facing the black uniforms, they couldn't find the unknown Dante researcher at all. "Sit down!" one man yelled angrily, cupping his hands to his mouth. Holmes and Lowell groped for seats, stopped in the aisle, and were lined with scattered benches, twisting their necks desperately to scan the faces of the crowd.Holmes stared sideways at the door in case the soldier escaped.Lowell glanced across the pairs of dark eyes and empty faces in the chapel, and finally landed on the pockmarked face and twinkling eyes of the man who was talking to them. "I've found him," murmured Lowell. "Oh, I've found it, Wendell. I've found him! I've found our Satan!" Holmes turned around, gasping for breath, eyes full of anticipation, "I can't see him, Jamie!" A few soldiers signaled them to be quiet with loud "shhs." "There!" Lowell whispered, looking a little disappointed, "One, two...the fourth row from the front!" "where?" "there!" "Dear friends, thank you for inviting me again," a trembling voice interrupted from the pulpit, "Next, we shall talk about Dante's punishment in hell..." As soon as Lowell and Holmes heard the voice, they turned their attention to the front of the hot, dark chapel.They watched their friend, the elderly Green, coughing weakly, adjusting his posture, propping his hands apart on the lectern.Everyone in the congregation was mesmerized, full of anticipation and piety, eagerly waiting to enter the gate of hell again.