Chapter 4 third chapter
Hardcastle was taken aback.
"Ah, Miss Pebmarsh. What do you say of that fine china clock on the mantelpiece? And a little French clock--gilt, and traveling silver, and--oh, and there's the clock." One with the words 'Rosemary' engraved on one corner of the face."
This time it was Miss Pebmarsh's turn to look surprised.
"Inspector, either you or I'm crazy. I'm sure I don't have any Dresden china clocks—what did you say? A clock marked 'Rosemary'—I don't have any A gilded French clock—what clock do you say?"
"A silver clock for traveling," answered Hardcastle dully.
"I don't have that clock either. If you don't believe me, you can ask the woman who cleaned my room. Her name is Mrs. Curtin."
Inspector Hardcastle was taken aback for a moment. Miss Pebmarsh spoke with such certainty that it was hard not to believe it.He tossed in his heart for a while, then stood up.
"Miss Pebmarsh, may I ask you to accompany me to another room?"
"Of course. Frankly, I'd like to see those clocks myself."
"See?" Hardcastle immediately questioned the word.
"It may be more appropriate to say 'examination'," said Miss Pebmarsh; "but, Inspector, even blind men, when they speak like ordinary people and use ordinary words, do not necessarily mean ordinary things. When I say I want to 'look' at those clocks, I mean I want to examine them, to 'feel' them with my fingers."
Pemarsh followed Hardcastle out of the kitchen, through the small corridor, and into the living room.The fingerprinting officer looked up at him.
"I'm pretty much done with my job, Inspector," he said. "You can touch whatever you want now, it doesn't matter."
Hardcastle nodded, picked up the small clock with "Rosemary" on its face, and put it in Miss Pebmarsh's hand.She stroked it carefully.
"It seems to be just an ordinary traveling clock," she said, "the leather bound one. It wasn't mine, Inspector Hardcastle, and, I'm quite sure, when I left the house at half past one, It's not in this room."
"thanks."
The inspector took the clock from her, and carefully removed the small Dresden clock from the mantelpiece.
"Be careful with this one," he exhorted when he put the clock in her hand, "it will break if you drop it."
Milesin Pemarsh carefully touched the small porcelain clock with her slender fingers, and then shook her head. "It must be a lovely clock," she said, "but it's not mine. Where, you say, is it?"
"Above right of the mantel."
"There ought to be a pair of china candlesticks," said Miss Pebmarsh.
"Yes," said Hardcastle, "there was a pair of candlesticks, but they were pushed aside."
"You said there are other clocks?"
"There are two more."
Hardcastle took back the Dresden porcelain clock and handed her the small gilded French clock.She fumbled around quickly, then handed it back to him.
"No, it's not mine either."
He handed her the silver bell again, and she returned it to him.
"Usually the only clock in this room is the grandfather clock in the corner by the window—"
"good."
"And the cuckoo clock on the wall near the door."
Hardcastle did not know what to say.His eyes searched the woman in front of him reassuringly and carefully, and he knew she would not stare at him.She frowned slightly, showing confusion, and suddenly said: "Strange, I don't understand. I just don't understand."
She reached out and found a chair without any difficulty and sat down.Hardcastle looked at the fingerprinting officer standing in the doorway.
"Have you had your fingerprints taken on all these clocks?" he asked.
"Everything has been picked, the gold-plated one, the powder can't stick to it, the clock face can't stick to it. The porcelain clock is the same. But it's strange that the travel leather clock or the silver clock can't be powdered, usually It should be on it—and every clock is unwound, and they all stop at the same time—four-thirteen."
"what about others?"
"I took a total of four different sets of fingerprints. According to my judgment, they should all belong to women. The contents of the deceased's bag are all on the table."
Following the direction the man's head pointed, he saw a small pile of things on the table.
Hardcastle walked over and took a look.There was a wallet containing seven pounds and some change, a silk handkerchief, unmarked, a small box of digestive tablets, and a visiting card.
Hardcastle bent down.
metropolis and local insurance co., ltd.
R． H．Mr Curry
Two West End, 7 Denver Street
Hardcastle went back to the sofa where the Pebmarsh group sat.
"Is it possible that you have an appointment with someone from the insurance company?"
"Insurance company? No, absolutely not."
"One called Metropolitan and Local," Hardcastle said.
Miss Pebmarsh shook her head. "I've never heard that name."
"Have you ever planned to apply for any kind of insurance?"
"No, there isn't. I have fire and theft insurance with Jupiter Insurance Company. They have a local branch. I have no personal insurance. I have neither family nor close relatives. There is no need for life insurance."
"I see," Hardcastle said. "Does the name Curry mean anything to you? Mr. R. H. Curry?" He leaned forward to watch her, but she didn't respond.
"Curry," she repeated the name.Then shake your head. "'It's not a common name, is it? No, I haven't heard of it, and I don't know anyone named Curry. It's the name of the dead man, isn't it?"
"It's possible," Hardcastle said.
Miss Pebmarsh hesitated for a moment, then said: "You want me to - go - touch that -"
He understood immediately what she meant.
"Excuse me, Miss Pebmarsh. If you don't think it's too much to ask? I'm not good at describing, and your fingers may enable you to grasp the person's appearance better than my description."
"Indeed," said Miss Pebmarsh. "I agree it's uncomfortable to do, but if you think it will help, I'm willing to do it."
"Thank you," said Hardcastle. "Let me guide you—"
He led her around the sofa, directed her to kneel, and slowly guided her hand close to the dead man's face.She was very calm, with no expression on her face.Her fingers traced her hair and ears, staggered behind the left ear for a while, and continued to slide down the nose, mouth, and jaw.After that, she shook her head and got up.
"I have no idea what he looked like," she said, "but I'm pretty sure I don't know the man at all."
The fingerprinting personnel had packed up their tools, left the room, and poked their heads in again.
"They're coming and removing him," he said, pointing to the body. "Can you move away?"
"Just move," said Inspector Hardcastle. "Miss Pebmarsh, would you please come and sit here?"
He put her on a chair in the corner.Two men entered the room and removed the late Mr. Curry deftly and quickly.Hardcastle went out to the iron gate, then went back into the drawing-room, and sat down beside Pebmarsh.
"It's an extraordinary thing, Miss Pebmarsh," said he. "I'll restate the point for you to see if I'm right, and if I'm wrong please correct me. You didn't wait for anyone to come today, you didn't check insurance of any kind, and you didn't take any letters, Said that a representative of a certain company is coming to visit you today. Isn't that right?"
"Completely correct."
"You didn't need the services of a stenographer, and you didn't call the Cavendish Agency, or ask them to send someone here at three o'clock."
"Correct again."
"About one-thirty, when you left the house, there were only two clocks in the room, a cuckoo and a grandfather. There were no other clocks."
When Pemapu was about to answer, she paused again.
"I could not swear to this statement, if I were more serious, because my eyes cannot see, and I cannot often notice whether there is a shortage or an addition in the house. The last time I was sure that there was anything in this room was When I was dusting up early this morning. Everything was in order. Usually I do the cleaning of this room myself, because the cleaning lady is careless with decorations."
"Did you ever leave the house this morning?"
"Yes, at ten o'clock I went to Aaronburg College as usual, and taught until twelve-fifteen. I came home about one to fifteen, scrambled an egg in the kitchen, and drank I had a cup of tea, and then, as I said, I went out again at half past one. By the way, I ate in the kitchen and never entered the room."
"I see," said Hardcastle. "Since you are sure that there were no extra clocks here before ten o'clock this morning, they may have appeared at a later time."
"In that case, you'll have to ask Mrs. Curtin. She usually comes at ten and leaves at twelve. She lives at 17 Dipper Street."
"Thank you, Miss Pebmarsh. Well, now we are left with the following few facts, and I would like your opinion or advice. At some time today, someone came into this room and put four There are only two clocks, and each clock is set at four-thirteen. Does the mention of this time remind you of anything?"
"Thirteen minutes past four." Miss Pebmarsh shook her head. "It doesn't mean anything to me."
"Well, let's leave the matter of the clock aside for the moment, and talk of the dead man. Mrs. Curtin, who cleaned for you, wouldn't let him in, let alone keep him in the house, unless you ordered him to say You have a date with this person, but we'll ask her about that. Let's assume he's here to see you for a reason, business or personal. Between one thirty and two forty-five In between, he was stabbed to death. If you say he's here for an appointment, but you say you don't know anything about it, and if you assume he's related to the insurance company—you can't help us either. Because the door It's unlocked, so he can come in, sit down and wait for you—but why?"
"Crap," said Mrs. Pebmarsh impatiently. "Then you think these clocks were brought by this—what Curry?"
"We've looked around and we haven't seen any bags," Hardcastle said.
"I'm afraid he can't fit these four clocks in his pocket. I don't know if you have ever thought of anything related to these clocks, such as the time? Thirteen past four?"
She shook her head.
"I've been thinking in the back of my mind that maybe some madman did it, or someone went to the wrong house, but it doesn't seem to make sense. Inspector, I can't help."
A young policeman poked his head in, and Hardcastle went out to meet him in the corridor, and together they went out to the gate.He spoke to the man for several minutes.
"You can take the lady home now," he said. "The address is 14 Palmerston Road."
He returned to the house and went into the dining room.The door to the kitchen was left open, and he could hear Miss Pebmarsh busy at the sink.He stands at the door.
"I want to take the clocks, Miss Pebmarsh. I'll give you a receipt."
"That doesn't matter, Inspector—the clocks don't belong to me—"
Hardcastle turned to face Sheila Webb.
"You can go home, Miss Wilbur. You can take the police car."
Sheila and Colin got up together.
"Colin, will you walk her into the car, please?" Hardcastle said, drawing a chair over and writing the receipt on the table.
Colin and Sheila went out and down the path.Sheila stopped abruptly.
"My gloves—I forgot—"
"I'll take it for you."
"No, I know where I put it. I don't feel scared now - they've removed 'it'."
She ran back to the house and came out after a while.
"Sorry, I must have acted ridiculously back then."
"It happens to everybody," said Colin.
Hardcastle came over as Sheila got into the car.After the car drove away, he turned to the young policeman and said:
"Bound up all the clocks in the drawing room, except the cuckoo clock on the wall and the Grandeur."
Then he gave some orders and turned to his friend.
"I'm going to a few places, do you want to come together?"
"Good!" said Colin.
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