Chapter 5 Chapter Four

A rental car pulled up in front of an apartment building on East Seventy-third Street in New York City.Heckcroft got out of the car, this was his residence. He is exhausted.The exhaustion of the three-day journey, coupled with the tragedy on the plane, really made him mentally and physically exhausted.He felt sorry for the man who died suddenly of a heart attack on the plane.However, the Police Department of the Airport Administration made a fuss over this matter and treated it as some great international case, which inevitably made him uncomfortable.Heck, airport quarantine took nearly four hours!Moreover, the authorities of the Police Department also ordered that all first-class passengers on this flight must notify the Department of their whereabouts within the next two months.

At the door of the apartment, the doorman saw him and said: "Mr. Hecroft, you have not been out for a long time this time, but the post office has sent you a lot of letters. There is also a person who left a letter for you." letter." "Someone left me a letter?" The doorman handed him a business card of the firm, and said, "Yes, this is it. This man came to see you last night and left his business card, and the letter he left for you is written on the card." The back of his face. When he came, he looked very excited. Do you understand me?" Noelle took the business card and saw the name printed on it:

gentleman peter baldwin He replied bluntly: "I didn't understand what you meant." He could not recall that he knew such a person as Peter Baldwin. The card also included Baldwin's address: wellington ltd. riverside road west a london Below the address is his phone number. Heckcroft, too, had never heard of the insurance company.He turned over the card and saw on the back it read: "I am currently living in room 411 of the St. Regis Hotel in New York City." The doorman went on to say: "When this man came last night, I must call your room immediately. He said that you must have returned to New York. But I obviously didn't see you back, so I said to him at the time: 'Are you crazy?'"

Noller walked towards the elevator and said, "Isn't there my number in the New York City telephone directory? He can call my room directly from his residence according to the number in the directory. Why run to Are you calling me here?" The doorman said: "He said he called you, but the phone in your room is broken..." At this moment the door of the elevator closed, and the concierge was interrupted. As the elevator ascended to the fifth floor, Knoller looked at the business card again.Peter Baldwin, who the hell is this?When did the phone in the room where he, Knoller lived, break down?

He went to the door of his room and unlocked it.Press the light switch on the wall when you enter the door.The two desk lamps on the table turned on at the same time.Knoller couldn't help being taken aback.I was so shocked that I threw away the travel bag in my hand.He could hardly believe what his eyes saw in the room.It was completely different from when he left three days ago. Everything was in a different position. Every piece of furniture, chairs, tables, vases, ashtrays, was not in its original place. His recliner, which used to be in the center of the room, is now in the far right corner.Every sketch or painting sunken on the wall has changed places.The stereoscope he used for drawing has been moved from the bookshelf to a table.A wine cabinet with a small wheel underneath, which had always been in the back of his bedroom, was now to the left of the door.A copy of his drawing, which had been placed by the window, had been moved ten feet in front of him.The drawing chair has also been moved somewhere.

Seeing all this, an indescribable feeling arose in his heart.Everything in the house was both very familiar and completely unfamiliar to him now.Everything has changed shape and appearance. He stood by the open door, and insensibly recalled in his mind what his room had looked like before.But the strange scene in front of him kept interrupting his recollections. "What's going on here?" He seemed to hear himself talking to himself.But it seemed that it was not his voice that said this sentence. He walked quickly to the couch.The phone used to sit on a table next to the right arm of the recliner.Now the position of the recliner has been moved, and the phone has also been moved.He turned to look at the center of the house, but couldn't find the table where the telephone was.Where the telephone table used to be, there is now a chair with a backrest.The phone is gone.Where are the phones and desks?Hell, where's the phone?

Ah, the phone has been moved to the window.The kitchen table was moved under the bedroom window, and the telephone was moved to that table.The central window of his room is large, and below the window is a large yard.Opposite his room across the courtyard was a large apartment.The telephone line in his room turned out to be covered under the carpet.Now the carpet is all lifted.The telephone wires were all dragged out and piled up under the windows.This is inexplicable!These rugs were originally fastened to the floor with large tacks.Who went to the trouble and trouble to get all the tack bindings out, the rugs all over the place, and the phone wires out of the way?

He walked quickly to the table, picked up the handset, and pressed the button on the apartment's intercom, which put him through to the concierge's telephone switchboard.He pressed the button a few times, but no one answered the phone.He pressed his finger on the button. After a while I heard the jittery voice of the porter (his name was Jack) from the microphone: "Hi, hello, I'm the porter..." Guller said to him on the phone: "Jack, this is Heycroft. Who came into my room during the three days I was away?" "Mr Heckcroft, what do you say? Who got in what?"

"Who came into my room?" "What's the matter, Mr. Heycroft? Has your room been stolen?" "I don't know yet. Everything in my room has been turned over. Who came into my room?" "Nobody ever got in. I mean, I don't know who ever got into your room. The guy on my shift. Never said anyone got into your room. Ed came to pick me up at four o'clock in the morning." .He gets off work at noon. Louie takes over from him." "Call them all, won't you?" "It's really a ghost, I'll call the police too." Knowle heard the word "police" and his ears hurt.Calling the police means interrogating him, and it is inevitable to ask him, "Where have you been these few days? Who have you seen?" and so on.Noller is unwilling to answer this kind of question from the police right now.

So, he said into the microphone: "No, don't call the police yet. It's not yet time. I'll check it myself to see if I really lost something. Maybe one of my friends was playing a prank on purpose. I'm just kidding. I'll call you back later." "I'll call all the people on duty in a while." Hecroft hung up the phone, sat down on the window sill, and glanced at everything in the room. Everything has moved! He still held the card in his right hand: Mr. Peter Baldwin.He remembered what the concierge Jack said: "... When he came, his expression was extremely excited. Do you understand what I mean?... When this person came last night, I must call your room right away... ...the phone in your room is broken..."

The back of the card reads: "I currently reside in Room 411, St. Regis Hotel, New York City." Knowler picked up the phone and dialed Baldwin's number.He knew the number well from his frequent meals at Kincall's Grill. "I'm Baldwin, who are you?" Baldwin spoke with a British accent.His tone of voice was also quite abrupt. "I am Knoller Heckcroft. Mr. Baldwin, did you come to see me?" "Oh! Thank goodness I found you. Where are you now?" "I'm at my place, in my own room. I just got back." "Just came back? Where did you come from?" "It's inconvenient to tell you." "By God! Do you know, Mr. Heckcroft? I have come to you from three thousand miles away, on a matter of great importance. I beg you to tell me where you came from." of?" From the microphone, the Englishman's heavy breathing could be heard.It seemed that he was very nervous; moreover, there seemed to be some kind of fear in the tension. "It's a great honor for you to come to see me from such a long distance. However, it seems that this cannot be the reason for you to intervene in my personal affairs..." Baldwin interrupted Knoller to say: "I have every right to intervene in your personal affairs. I have been in the Sixth Branch of the British Military Intelligence Service for twenty years, and you and I have a lot to talk about. You don't know yourself at all. What kind of business are you doing now? Only I can really understand what is going on in your current situation. " "What do you know? What do you and I want to talk about?" "Let me tell you this: please don't go to Geneva. Listen to me, Mr. Heycroft, please don't go to Geneva until you and I meet." "Are you talking about going to Geneva?" Noller suddenly felt an indescribable discomfort when he heard the word "Geneva" mentioned by the other party.He wondered, how could this Englishman know about Geneva?Where did he know that? Just then, Knoller saw a flash of fire outside the window.Maybe in one of the rooms in the apartment opposite, someone struck a match and lit a cigarette?Although Knoller was holding the phone, he was excited; his attention was involuntarily caught by the flash of fire. Baldwin's voice came from the microphone: "Mr. Heycroft, wait a moment, someone is knocking on my door. I will send him away first, and then I will come back and talk to you. Don't hang up the phone. " On the phone, Knoller heard Baldwin drop the receiver on the table, followed by the door opening.Then there was an inaudible sound. In the room across the apartment, there was another flash of a match. This time, Nuo Le took advantage of the flash to see clearly the translucent thin curtains on the window of the room.Behind the curtain stood a woman with blond hair. Nuole noticed that there was no more sound coming from the other party's phone.Not a short time has passed, but the Englishman still hasn't come back to continue talking with him. "Baldwin, Baldwin, where have you been? Baldwin, Baldwin!" Knoller called into the microphone. In that room of the apartment, a match was being struck for the third time. Knoller's eyes were fixed on the flame.He felt that there was really no need for the people in that room to strike matches so repeatedly.He could see the light of the blond woman's cigarette.He could still see the silhouette of the woman hidden by the thin curtains.She held the telephone receiver in her hand and put it to her ear to listen, but her eyes were peeking at the window of his room.He was sure she was looking at him now. "Baldwin, why the hell aren't you on the phone?" Nuo Le suddenly heard the sound of the other party hanging up the phone. "Baldwin!" he cried again. At this time, he saw the blond woman slowly put down the phone, stayed in front of the window for a while, and then disappeared. Noelle stared out of her window, then at the phone receiver in her hand.Then he called directly to the manager of the St. Regis Hotel. After connecting, Knoller explained the situation to the manager, and the other party replied: "I'm really sorry, the phone in room 411 of our hotel is probably broken. We will send someone up to fix it right away. Could you please leave your phone number, sir? Shall we pass this on to Mr. Baldwin so he can call you back?" ……The telephone does not work…… What exactly is going on?Did something unpredictable happen? Faced with this situation, Nuo Le lost his mind.But there was only one thing on his mind right now, and that was that he couldn't leave his name or phone number with the manager of the St. Regis Hotel. He hung up the phone and glanced again at the blond woman's window. It was pitch black there, and there was no longer any fire to flicker. He could still vaguely see the white curtains on her window.He jumped off the windowsill and wandered aimlessly around the room, circling the shifted furniture. He didn't know what to do.He thought he should find out what was missing. At first glance, it appears that nothing is missing.However, the house was so messy that it was hard to tell if anything was missing. The room phone rang.This is an intercom call from the apartment, from the concierge's telephone switchboard.He picked up the receiver. "Mr. Heckcroft, this is Jack. I asked Ed and Louie just now. They both said that no one has been in your room. They are honest people, and their service is very serious. They will not be careless. The three of us Everyone does." "Thank you for your trouble, Jack. I can trust you all." "Mr Heckcroft, are you going to call the police?" Trying to keep his tone calm, Knoller replied, "Don't bother. I think. My colleagues in the company must be joking with me. Some of them have the key to my room." "But why haven't I seen anyone in your room? Even Ed and Louie..." Knoller interrupted him and said, "Forget it, Jack. Let it go. The night before I left this time, my colleagues and I had a dance at my place. After it was over, there was a The two slept in my room overnight." Knoller could find no other words to prevaricate. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen it in the bedroom yet.So he went in.Start by reaching for the light switch on the wall.Although he expected that there must be chaos in the bedroom.But when the lights came on, he was shocked by the chaos in the bedroom. Here, the earth-shaking scene can be said to be at its peak.Needless to say, all furniture has been moved. The first thing he saw was his bed, and it was so frightening!Originally it was against the wall.Now it stands alone in the middle of the bedroom.The table in the bedroom is in front of the window.The wall on the right side of the bedroom used to be where he put his bed.Now there is a small writing desk.As soon as he entered the bedroom, just like just now, he couldn't help recalling the original state of the room three days ago in his mind.Then this recollection was interrupted by the strange chaos before the floor. Occasionally he looked up at the ceiling, which literally stunned him.A telephone set in the bedroom was tied with a black belt and hung from the ceiling.The telephone wire ran from the floor up the wall, across the ceiling, and ended up on a hook that hung the telephone.The suspended telephone slowly rotated in the air from time to time. For some reason, he didn't dare to look elsewhere.He clearly knew that he should look through the entire bedroom to understand how messy the room was.But he dare not. After a while, Nuo Le dared to look around the bedroom when his mood calmed down. He found that the telephone was hanging above the only way to enter the bathroom.The bathroom door was already open.The curtain above the bathtub is fluttering.A gust of cold wind was blowing in through that window, and that was why it was blowing the telephone on and off.He immediately went into the bathroom and closed the window. When he was about to close the curtains, he suddenly noticed a flash of fire in another room of the opposite apartment; someone was striking a match again.This is not the room where the match was struck three times just now.Such firelight, in the dark night, looks eerie. He stared up, my God!It's that blond woman striking a match again!The silhouette of her upper body is obliquely reflected on the curtain of another window.He stared at her figure dumbfounded, as if under hypnotism.Presently he saw her turn away, and then disappear; just as before, she disappeared mysteriously. Darkness enveloped her room again. What's going on in all this?What does it mean?It seemed that someone was deliberately trying to create a mysterious and terrifying atmosphere around him, so as to frighten him.But what is this for?Who is behind all this?And, what happened to Mr. Baldwin?Why is his voice so tense on the phone?And in the tone of an order, he was not allowed to go to Geneva again?Was Baldwin an integral part of this whole atmosphere of mystery and terror?Or was he one of the victims of this atmosphere? Victim... can you use the word victim to describe Baldwin?He wondered how he could think of this word?In fact, how can we talk about who is the victim here?Also, Baldwin said that he had worked in the Sixth Branch of the British Military Intelligence Department for twenty years. What did he mean by that? What is the Sixth Branch of the British Military Intelligence Service?Isn't it a specific unit of the British espionage system?If Noller remembers correctly, the jurisdiction of the Fifth Division of the British Military Intelligence Department is within the Federation.The Sixth Bureau governs areas outside the federal government, which is equivalent to the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States.my God!Doesn't this mean that the British intelligence service has also learned about the Geneva Crossen's documents?Does the British spy agency also know about the robbery of the Nazi German treasury by Crossen and his gang thirty years ago?It seems to understand... However, what Peter Baldwin talked about on the phone is not enough to prove this.Because he said this to Knoller: "...you don't understand what kind of business you are doing now. Only I really understand..." At that time, after Baldwin finished speaking, the phone was cut off, and later For some reason, I hung up the phone. Knoller came out of the bedroom and stopped under the hook phone.Now there is no wind blowing the telephone, so it hardly spins, but it is not absolutely still.A very long black ribbon wraps the telephone set countless times, and binds the microphone and the base together.Such a binding method is both uncomfortable and creepy to watch, as if it is designed to put the telephone on hold forever. He continued to walk towards the bedroom door.Suddenly he instinctively stopped and turned around. There was something he hadn't seen just now, but now it caught his attention.The small writing desk has been moved to the right-hand wall, and the middle drawer is opened. He took a closer look and saw a piece of paper in the drawer.He looked at the paper and held his breath in horror. Simply unimaginable!It's hard to believe my eyes! This is a piece of paper that has turned yellowish brown due to age.It is exactly the same as the paper of Crossen's letters that have been stored for thirty years in the underground vault of the Bank of Geneva.This is also a letter.It was written by a gang of fanatics who made Heinrich Crossen a martyr.The letter was full of threats and intimidation.It was also an English letter, written in the same odd Germanic script.The color of the lettering has faded, but it is still legible.It is precisely because it can still be seen clearly that it surprises people. The letter began: To Knoller Heckcroft Crosson: For you, from now on, everything has changed.Nothing will ever be the same again... ... Knoller was ready to read on.He reached out to pick up the paper.But where his fingers touched, a corner of the paper was already broken.This piece of paper is thirty years old!The paper is so old, it is easy to feel a kind of nameless dread about this letter.Here is the rest of the letter: The past paves the way for the future.The future belongs to him and his ideals.In a mad world, his ideal embodies great courage and great wisdom.Whoever dares to block the realization of his ideal will be crushed to pieces. We are all survivors of Wolf's Den.As long as we are alive, we will defend his ideals with our lives and blood.His ideal will be realized.Because it's the only thing in our life left.It is an act of kindness.It will let the world know that we have been betrayed in the past and that we have been misunderstood by the world. We survivors of Wolf's Den know as well as Heinrich Crossen the best qualities in ourselves. Now it is your turn, Noelle Hecroft Crosson, to finish what your fathers started.This business will be accomplished by your hands; and this is what your father wishes. Many people will come out to hinder you.There will also be many people who will do everything possible to destroy his ideals.We, the survivors of the wolf den, are not dead, though.You may wish to remember our words: Whoever dares to hinder you will end badly.Whoever tries to obstruct you, shake your resolve, or deceive you with lies will be destroyed. If you yourself hesitate and are timid, you will cum on your loved ones, and none of them will be spared. These are the oaths we leave to you. Knoller tried to get the letter out of the drawer.The letter paper was all shredded wherever I touched it.He spilled shredded paper on the floor.He slammed the drawer into the table, slammed it shut, cursed, "These crazy people!" and walked out of the bedroom. Where the hell is the phone?Where? Oh yes, on the table by the window that was taken out of the kitchen. What the hell is this? ! He cursed again to himself: "Damn, these crazy people!" However, what he was thinking at this time was the gang of lunatics today.Thirty years ago, those lunatics wrote such a bloody threatening letter.Thirty years later, today's lunatics stuffed this threatening letter into his bedroom while he was away.They broke into his den, violated his human rights and searched his belongings.He thought to himself, I don't know what else they have done?He thought again of Mr. Peter Baldwin, who had come all the way to see him, and called him... but the phone was cut off halfway. He looked at his watch, it was almost one o'clock at midnight.What time is it in Zurich?Is it six or seven in the morning?Swiss banks open at eight o'clock in the morning.The Grand Bank of Geneva has a branch in Zurich, and Manfradi will be there now. He was standing in front of the telephone by the window.He was standing here just now, waiting for Baldwin to come back and continue talking to him.It was here just now that he had seen three match flashes in the opposite window...and the blond woman.All this happened when he was standing in front of this window just now.The wretched window! He reached into his pocket to see if his keys were there.Sure enough.He walked out of the room quickly and locked the door.Then, he hurried to the elevator.Press the button of the elevator, the indicator light indicates that the elevator is now on the tenth floor.Although he pressed the button repeatedly, the elevator never came down.What a ghost.He had to walk down the escalator.Anxious, he rushed downstairs with two steps. On the first floor, he immediately rushed to the porter. When Jack saw him suddenly, he was startled—jumped, and muttered, "My God! Mr. Hecroft, you're frightening me to death!" Knoller yelled at him, "Tell me, do you know the doorman at that apartment?" "Which apartment?" "Damn it!" said Hecroft, pointing anxiously at the apartment opposite his room, "that's it." "That house is number eighty-three. I know its gatekeeper." "Then you come with me." "Why, Mr. Heckcroft, that won't do. I'm on duty now, and I can't go away. Come back later." "I'll be back in a while. You come with me, and I'll give you twenty yuan." "Then only for a short while..." After finding out the purpose of Jack and Hecroft's visit, the gatekeeper of No. 83 apartment said: "Sir, how do you say this? The room you mentioned is empty and unoccupied. It has been idle for nearly three months." It's been a week. However, someone may have booked that room today. Maybe he'll be moving in in a few days." Knoller tried hard not to show agitation.He said: "However, that room is indeed occupied now, not empty. A woman with blond hair lives in it. I want to know who she is." "Is it a woman with blond hair, a medium build, a fair face, and a frequent smoker?" "It's her, it's her. Who is she?" "Sir, have you lived here for a long time?" "What did you say?" "I mean, are you an old resident of your apartment?" "What do you mean by that?" "I thought you were probably drunk just now..." "Damn you. What are you talking about? Where did I drink? I just want to ask you, who is the woman living in that room now?" "Sir, you should not ask who is the woman who lives now, but who lived in the past. The fair-haired woman you speak of is called Mrs. Poonatin. She died a month ago. " Knoller sat by the window of his room, staring helplessly at the opposite window.He thought: Someone must be trying to drive him crazy.But why push him so hard?Simply incredible!The gang of fanatics and lunatics thirty years ago have already been reduced to ashes.How can he command today's new army of lunatics who are new and sneaky?How is this going? He called the manager of the St. Regis Hotel again.The other party replied that the phone in room 411 had been repaired.So he dialed room number 411.Dial numerous times, always busy.He clearly saw the blonde woman, but the gatekeeper of the apartment insisted that she was already dead.She wasn't dead, he was sure.And he was sure that this woman must have something to do with the series of confusing things in front of him. He got up from his chair, went to the liquor cabinet with the little wheel, and poured himself a drink.He checked his watch, it was half past one in the morning.He had made a submarine long-distance call to the branch of the Grand Bank of Geneva in Zurich.In another ten minutes, the operator of the submarine long-distance switchboard could connect him to Zurich.At two o'clock in the morning New York time, the branch of the Bank of Geneva in Zurich opened for business. He went back to the chair by the window, glass in hand, past his FM radio.Of course, it had also been moved, so he deliberately walked past it in order to have a look at it.He threw it away absent-mindedly, wanting to listen to music, which calmed his mind.He dialed to a station that only played music at this hour.Yet it reports the news. Unexpectedly, even the device on the radio to find the radio band was replaced by someone!This really echoed the words in the letter he just read: "For you, everything has changed since then." A piece of news reported on the radio caught his attention.Involuntarily he turned sharply in his chair to listen.Due to the excessive movement, the wine in his hand spilled on his pants. "...The police have put a martial law in front of the hotel. Our reporter Richard Dunlop is currently interviewing on the spot. He is talking to this station from the mobile interview vehicle we sent. Reporter Richard, you now introduce yourself to the audience The interviewed news." There were a few blasts of lightning on the radio, and then a newscaster reported in an excited voice, "The man's name is Peter Baldwin. He's English and just arrived in New York yesterday; or at least Said that he just checked into the St. Regis Hotel yesterday. The police authorities are now in contact with the airline to inquire about Baldwin’s origin. As far as I know, he is here for vacation. On the guest registration card of the hotel, there is no Record what company he works for." The radio announcer then interjected and asked the newscaster, "When did the hotel find Baldwin's body?" "About half an hour ago. A telephone repairman, went to his room to fix the telephone, and found Mr. Baldwin lying prone on the bed. Now the hotel is full of gossip, which is unbelievable. It is worth mentioning, however, that the murder of Baldwin The means. It seems that the means are extremely cruel. It is said that Baldwin was strangled to death. A wire cut through his throat. A waitress on the fourth floor found the room full of blood and was frightened. People I heard her screaming all the way to call the police..." The radio announcer interjected and asked, "Is the motive for committing the crime to seek wealth and death?" Obviously the announcer was catering to the interest of the audience. "We haven't been able to confirm this in our interviews. The police have not said anything. I guess they are waiting for people from the British consulate to arrive." The announcer interface said: "Thank you, reporter Richard. I hope to keep in touch with you. Listeners, just now is reporter Richard Dunlop, interviewing at the scene of the murder at the St. Regis Hotel on Fifty-fifth Street in Manhattan. , and broadcast directly to the listeners. I will now add another side: This morning, a very brutal murder took place in one of the most luxurious hotels in New York City, the St. Regis Hotel. The deceased was a man named Bode. Baldwin's Brits..." enough. Envoy Hercroft jumped out of his chair, practically lunged at the radio, and turned it off in a jiffy. He was hunched over the radio, breathing heavily.He couldn't believe the news broadcast he had just heard.He never dreamed that such a thing would happen.No, it's impossible, he doesn't believe the news is true. However, this piece of news is true.There was indeed such a murder, and the victim was dead.The lunatics of thirty years ago were not caricature or farce characters, they could only bluff, but they were out-and-out brutal murderers, and they did what they said. Gentleman Baldwin had advised him not to go to Geneva.He is obstructing the realization of Crossen's ideal, he is obstructing the realization of Crossen's agreement.As a result, he died, and his end was terrible, that person strangled him to death with wire. Knoller staggered back to his chair and sat down.He raised the glass to his lips and took a few deep swigs of the whiskey.However, the scotch whiskey had no sedative effect on him today, and his violent heartbeat accelerated even more. In the window on the opposite side of the courtyard, the light of a match again flashed!It's that blond woman again!Under the stream of dim light, she stood, her profile clearly seen through the thin curtains.She looked toward his window, apparently observing him. He suddenly stood up from the chair, as if hypnotized, he couldn't help leaning close to the window.His face was almost pressed against the window glass.The blond woman nodded to him; and she nodded to him slowly and rhythmically!Her intention seemed to be to try to prove something to him.By the way, she was trying to prove to him that what he saw was not an illusion, but a real person, a real living woman. He suddenly remembered the words of the gatekeeper of Apartment No. 83: "The blonde woman you mentioned is Mrs. Poonatin. She died a month ago." A woman who was no longer in the world actually stood by a window and nodded to him across the cold moonless courtyard.God, isn't this creepy?He was going crazy. At this time, the phone in his room rang suddenly.The sound of the bell startled him.He was so out of breath that he threw himself convulsively, grabbing the phone.He couldn't vomit the phone and ring it again.On this eerie night, the ringing of the phone could only make him lose his mind. The voice of the female operator of the submarine long-distance telephone came from the microphone: "Mr. Hecroft? I am the submarine operator. I have connected your call to Zurich. You two can talk." Then, the voice of Switzerland came from the microphone. Nuole listened suspiciously to the other party's heavy and gloomy voice. The other party was a man, the manager of the Zurich branch of a major bank in Geneva.Fearing that Knoller would not know his identity, he repeated it twice; he said that he was also a director of a large bank in Geneva.He said: "Mr Heckcroft, we are deeply saddened! Earlier we also knew that Mr Manfradi was not in good health, but Wan imagined that his illness would deteriorate so quickly." "What are you talking about? What happened?" "Late symptoms vary from person to person. Our colleague, Mr. Manfradi, was originally a healthy and energetic person; It will be greatly stimulated, which will lead to disappointment and depression." "So what?" "Mr. Heckcroft, Mr. Manfradi couldn't bear the pain of loss of work and living ability due to the disease. Therefore, he committed suicide." "Suicide?" "I can only speak according to the actual situation. Ernst Manfradi committed suicide by jumping from the building in his hotel. It was less painful for him to die this way. At ten o'clock this morning, the whole of Geneva Major banks are closing for a minute to observe a moment of silence in his memory." "Oh, my God!" The person in Zurich continued to say on the phone: "However, all current accounts handled by Mr. Manfradi during his lifetime will be taken over by a shrewd operator like him. We sincerely hope..." Nuo Le hung up the phone without waiting for the other party to finish speaking. "All current accounts will be taken over by a shrewd operator like him." This means that the bank's business is business as usual.Manfradi is dead, but Swiss finance is still flourishing.Nuoler thought: He could not have committed suicide, it must have been homicide. It is true that Ernst Manfradi did not jump from a building in Zurich, he was thrown out of a window and murdered by the people of Wolf's Lair.why?Heckcroft reflected on his own meeting with Manfradi.对啊，曼弗拉第说过贬抑狼穴事件幸存者的话。他曾经对诺勒说过：三十年前那帮疯子留下的这一纸威胁信，在今天已经没有意义了。他还说过：那信上恫吓的语言，不外乎体现了那帮老耄庸夫的一种急待赎罪的心情而已。 这些就是曼弗拉第的罪状。他一定向他的同僚、日内瓦大银行别的一些董事们，提起过克罗森那封用火漆牢固密封的古怪信件。而且说不定他还当看其他董事的面，揶揄了狼穴的人们。 对面窗户里又是火柴的亮光一闪！那个金发女人又站在窗边向他点头。似乎她能看透他的心灵。她又在向他点头了。似乎又在向他示意，他对曼弗拉第的这些估计和看法都是对的。一个早已归天的女鬼，现在却来向他显灵示意说；“你的想法是正确的。” God!这还是个人间世界吗！ ? 那个女人转身离开窗户，接着就消失了。她的窗户也顿时变成一片漆黑。 诺勒两手按着窗户玻璃，不禁尖声狂叫起来，“你是谁？你给我回来，你给我回来！你快说你是谁？” 他身边的电话铃突然又响起来了。他浑身汗毛竖起，怔怔地看着正在响的电话机，觉得自己简直是既处身危地，又遇见了鬼怪。实际情形和他的这个想象，确有相象之处。他哆哆嗦嗦地拿起了电话筒。 “赫克洛夫特先生吗？我是看门的杰克。我想告诉你，我猜到谁把你的房间弄成了那个样子。我的意思是说，我起先没想起这点来，但是几分钟前有件事倒提醒了我。” "What's up?" “在前些天的夜里，有两个人到我这儿来。他们都是锁匠。跟你在同一层楼住的施弗斯坦先生，想换门上的锁。这件事是路易早先告诉过我的。所以锁匠来了，我就让他们上楼了。刚才我忽然想起这么个问题，他们为什么要夜间来换锁呢？我是说，他们为什么要在下班后来做加班活，来换锁呢？为什么白天不来？我刚才跑到路易家里，找他议论这件事。他告诉我说，这两个人昨天还来过。所以这人就奇怪了，他们到底是什么人？” “你还记得这两个人的模样吗？” “你问对了，我记得他们的模样。其中一个人我记得特别清楚，就是在人山人海的公园里，我也能把他认出来。他有……” 突然电话里传过一声响亮、刺耳的枪声。紧接着是对方摔电话筒的声音。电话听筒掉到地板上了。 诺勒把手中的话筒往桌上一扔，冲到房门边，他用最大的劲急忙把房门拉开。由于用力过猛，门开得太大，门扇撞到墙上挂的一幅速写画上，把画框的玻璃也震碎了。他顾不得等电梯，大步冲下楼梯。他脑中茫然，什么也不敢想，集中全副精力，留神自己不踩空梯级，以免摔倒。他到了一楼，立刻向门房迅跑。 他惊恐地望着门房里面的情形。可怕的事情果然出现了。杰克已经脸朝天地斜躺在椅子背上。血从他颈上涌出来。他的喉咙中弹了。 杰克多管闲事了。他几乎说出狼穴的一个成员的模样，因此他遇害了。 鲍德温、曼弗拉第、还有这位无辜的守门人，都殒命了。 “谁胆敢妨碍你，谁就不会有好下场，不管是谁，如若要给你设置障碍，动摇你的决心，拿谎言蛊惑你。他就会被消灭。” 如果你自己犹豫，胆怯不前，你暨你的亲人，将无一幸免。 " ——这是三十年前的疯子在信上写的话。 过去曼弗拉第曾问过诺勒：“你真要想一想才能下决心吗？” 现在，诺勒觉得，他不用想就得下这个决心了。否则，他只有死路一条。