Chapter 19 Chapter Eighteen

Miss Pebmarsh happened to be out of the house when Hardcastle arrived at 19 Willbraham. "Wait a minute, Miss Pebmarsh." "Oh, yes—isn't Hardcastle deep?" "Yes, can I talk to you?" "I have to get to class and don't want to be late. Will it be long?" "Only three or four minutes." She enters the house and he follows. "Did you hear what happened this afternoon?" he said. "What happened?" "I thought you heard. A girl was killed in a phone booth a little past." "Killed? When" "Two hours and forty-five minutes ago" He looked at the grandfather clock.

"I've heard nothing of it, nothing," said Miss Pebmarsh, with a sullen voice, as if her misfortunes made her feel sick.Added: "A girl... was killed! Which girl?" "Her name is Ina Brant, and she works for the Cavendish Secretarial Agency." "Another girl from there! She was also sent by the agency like this girl called Sheila?" "I don't think so," said the Inspector. "She didn't call on you at your house?" "Here? No, of course not." "If she came here, were you there then?" "I'm not sure, what time did you say?"

"About twelve thirty, or later." "Yes," said Miss Pebmarsh, "I was at home then." "Where did you go after the interrogation?" "I'll come right back here." She paused, then asked, "Why do you think that girl might come to me?" "Well, she was at the inquest this morning, and saw you there, and she must have a reason for coming to Wilbraham Lane. As far as I know, she has no acquaintance in the place." "But why did she come to me just because she saw me at the interrogation meeting?" "This..." The inspector smiled lightly, and then quickly tried to put the smile into his voice.Because he knew that Miss Pebmarsh would not like this kind of smile that would reassure others.Then, he said again. "A girl's heart is hard to read. Maybe she wants to ask you to sign something, or something like that."

"Signed!" Miss Pebmarsh's voice was full of contempt, and then she said, "Yes... yes, I think you're right, that kind of thing did happen." Then she shook her head violently. "I can only assure you, Inspector Hardcastle, that nothing happened today. I have not been called upon since I came from the inquest." "Oh, thank you, Miss Pebmarsh. We thought it best to look up any possibility." "How old is she?" asked Miss Pebmarsh—"Nineteen." "Nineteen? Very young." Her voice changed slightly. "Very young . . . poor child. Who would kill a girl of that age?"

"But it happened," said Hardcastle. "Is she pretty--charming--sexy?" "No," said Hardcastle, "she would like to be so, but I don't think she is." "It's not for that, then," she said, shaking her head again. "I'm so sorry, I can't express how sorry I am, Inspector Hardcastle, sorry I can't be of help." He went outside, and, as usual, he was greatly impressed by Miss Pebmarsh's personality. Miss Waterhouse was also at home.She was still the same, opening the door suddenly, as if deliberately tempting someone to do something he shouldn't do.

"Hey, it's you!" she said. "Indeed, I've told your people all I know." "I'd like to believe you would," said Hardcastle, "but the question can't be answered all at once, you know, and we have to break it down into subdivisions." "I don't understand that. The whole thing is a most terrible shock," said Miss Watermons, looking at him disapprovingly, as if he had done it all. "Come in, come in. You can't stand on the doormat all day! Come in, sit down, and ask whatever you want, though I know it's the same old questions. As I said, I'm coming Calling outside, pushing open the door of a phone booth, and there's a girl in there. I've never been so horrified in my life. I immediately got a policeman nearby. Then—if you're wondering—I'm coming back here, for now A shot of brandy is just the right amount for medicine," said Miss Waterhouse.

"That's clever, ma'am," said Inspector Hardcastle. "That's the way it is," finished Miss Waterhouse. "I wonder if you're sure you've never seen this girl before?" "Maybe dozens of times," said Miss Waterhouse, "but don't remember. I mean, she may have served me, or sat next to me in the bus, or at the cinema Sell ​​me a ticket." "She is the shorthand typing lady of Gavin Qiuxi Society." "I've never had a chance to use shorthand, maybe she once went to work for my brother's company, Sunsford & Sweetenham. Is that what you're after?"

"Oh no," said Inspector Hardcastle, "that's not what I was looking for. I just wanted to know if she came to you this morning before she was killed." "Come to see me? No, of course not. Why is she looking for me?" "Well, we don't know," said Inspector Hardcastle, "but someone saw her push the iron gate in front of the yard and come to the door today. Do you think it's a mistake?" He looked at her innocently. "Anyone saw her push the bars? Nonsense," said Miss Waterhouse.After a while, she murmured, "Unless—"

"How?" Hardcastle dared not betray the alert. "Oh, I think she might have slipped a leaflet under the door or something...someone slipped a leaflet at lunchtime, probably about the Nuclear Disarmament Conference, which happens every day these days. I guess: she probably Came here and dropped things in through the mailbox. But you can't blame me for that, can you?" "Of course not. As for the telephone—you say yours is broken, but according to the exchange, there's no such thing." "The exchange always talks casually! After I dialed the number, the sound was very strange. It was not a connected signal, so I went to the telephone booth outside."

Hardcastle rose. "I'm sorry, Miss Waterhouse, to disturb you like this. But the thing is, this girl came to this alley in search of someone, who lived in the neighbourhood." "So you'll have to go door to door," said Miss Waterhouse. "I think the house she's most likely to go into is next door—Miss Pebmarsh, I mean." "Why do you think so?" "You said the girl was a shorthand typist, a social worker at Cavendish. Indeed, if I remember correctly, I heard that Miss Pebmarsh hired a shorthand typist a few days before the man was killed."

"Someone said so, but she denied it." "Well, if you'd asked me sooner," said Miss Waterhouse, "one always waits to hear me when it's too late. I say she's a little queer. I mean Miss Pebmarsh. I think , she may have called the secretarial office and asked for a shorthand typist, and then she may have completely forgotten." "You don't think she's the murderer, do you?" "I've never speculated or suggested anything like a murderer. I knew there was a murder in her house, but it never occurred to me that Miss Pebmarsh had anything to do with it. No. I just thought she was like some people, With curious paranoia. I know a woman once who used to call the pastry shop, order dozens of pastries, and have them come to her door and say she didn't call to order. That's the kind of thing." "Anything is possible, of course," said Hardcastle, bade Miss Waterhouse good-bye, and departed. He thought to himself that his last hint was almost a gimmick, in other words, if she believed that the girl had been seen entering her home, in which case her suggestion that the girl had entered Number Nineteen was indeed a clever answer. Glancing at his watch, Hardcastle thought there was still time for a trip to the Cavendish Society.He knew they didn't work until two in the afternoon, and maybe he could get a little help from the girls, and he could find Sheila Webb. When he entered the office, one girl immediately stood up. "You're Inspector Hardcastle," she said. "Miss Martindale is waiting." She guided him into the inner office.Miss Martindale attacked him impatiently. "Shame on you, Inspector Hardcastle. What a shame! You must find out and solve the case immediately, and don't waste your time half-heartedly. The duty of the police is to protect, and that's what our office needs right now. Protection .I want my girls to be protected, and I mean it." "Of course, Miss Martindale, I—" "You want to deny that my two girls weren't victims? Apparently, someone has gone mad and has what they call a paranoia or something about a shorthand typist or a secretary. They're looking for us to be victims. First Sheila Wilbur had been brutally tricked into finding a dead body—that kind of thing can drive a weak girl crazy—and now it happened again. A girl who couldn't even hurt an ant was murdered in a phone booth. You must investigate quickly, Inspector." "I'm going to do my best on this one, Miss Martindale. I've come here to see if you can give me a little help." "Help! How can I help you! Don't you think I was helpful before? You must find out who killed poor Ina and fooled Sheila. I have always been strict with these girls, Inspector. I won't let them I am late and lazy, but I can't bear them being killed and sacrificed, I intend to protect them, and I intend to see how those who receive the state's salary protect them." She looked at him angrily, like a tigress. "Give us time, Miss Martindale," he said. "Time? I guess you thought you had all the time in the world because that silly kid died. And then, some girl is going to be murdered." "I don't think you need be afraid of that, Miss Martindale." "I don't think it ever occurred to you that this girl was going to be killed when you got up this morning, Inspector. If it had, you must have been on your guard and trying to protect her. The whole thing is so unnatural and inexplicable! You have to admit it. It's just what the newspapers said. For example, the matter of the clock was not mentioned at the inquest this morning." "This morning's inquest will try not to ask questions, Miss Martindale. You know, the inquest will be adjourned." "All I'm saying, anyway," said Miss Martindale, glancing at him again, "is that you must act." "You have nothing to tell me, right? Didn't Yi Na give you any hints? Didn't she show trouble? Didn't she ask you to discuss it?" "If they have anything to do, I don't think they will consult with me," said Miss Martindale. "Is there any confusion in her mind?" That was the question Hardcastle wanted to know the answer to, and now he knew that Miss Martindale could not possibly give him an answer." Seeing that Ina Blanche won't tell you about her fears and anxieties, she will most likely talk to her colleagues. " "I think it's quite possible," said Miss Martindale, "that they chirp whenever they can—the girls, really. Grandma's typewriter beeps away at the sound of my footsteps, but a second What were they doing before the clock? Talking, chirping, chirping!" After calming down a bit, she said, "There are only three ladies in the office now, why don't you talk to them first? The others are on business trips. If you need , I can give you their names and addresses." "Thank you, Miss Martindale." "I think you'll want to talk to them alone," said Miss Martindale. "They'd be uncomfortable if I stood by." She stood up and opened the door to the outer office. "Girls," she said, "Inspector Hardcastle wants to talk to you, and you are taking a break from work to tell the Inspector everything you know to find out who killed Ina Brant. .” She turned back into her office.Close the door tightly.Three childish faces looked at the inspector with open eyes.He took a quick and effective mental survey of the surroundings.The one with glasses has a pure face, reliable but not very smart.The other looked playful, with brown hair and eyes, and her hairstyle made it look like she had just walked through the wind.Although the person is here, the heart may not know where Xiaoyao has gone, and her memory may not be trustworthy, so she must pay special attention to it.The third one is a girl who is born to laugh. He believes in this kind of girl, no matter what others say, she will agree. He said quietly, informally. "I suppose you've all heard about Ina Brant?" The three nodded vigorously. "Have you heard what people said?" The three of them looked at each other, as if deciding who should be the spokesperson.Seeing the shape clearly, it was obviously the blond lady wearing glasses, her name seemed to be Jie Ni. "Ina didn't come to work at two o'clock as usual," she explained. "The red cat is very upset," said the brunette, Maureen, and then she stopped and said, "I mean Miss Martindale." The third girl giggled. "Red Cat is her alias," she explained. "Not bad to get," thought the Inspector. "It's scary when she gets aggressive," Maureen said, "and jumps right at you. She asked if Ina said she wasn't coming to work this afternoon, and said she should get a day off." "I told Miss Martindale that she went to the inquest with the others, but I didn't see her afterwards, and I don't know where she went," said the fair-haired girl. "Is that so?" said Hardcastle. "You don't know where she went after the inquest?" “I suggested she come to lunch with me,” Maureen said, “but she seemed to have something on her mind, and she said she didn’t want to go to the restaurant, she just wanted to buy something to eat in the office.” "So she wants to come back to the office again?" "Oh, yes, of course. We all know she must come back." "Have any of you noticed anything unusual about Ina Brant these days? If so, please do let me know." They looked at each other in blank dismay, but there was no conspiracy, they were just guessing. "She often looks preoccupied," Maureen said. "Things are often messed up in her hands. Her reactions are always a little slower than others." "She's one of those people who seems like anything can happen to her," says the laughing girl. "Remember the day the heel came off her high heels? That's the kind of thing that happens to Ina a lot." "I remember," said Hardcastle. He remembered how the girl stood mournfully, looking down at her shoes. "You know, when Yi Na didn't come to work at two o'clock, I had an ominous feeling in my heart." Jie Ni nodded with a serious face. Hardcastle looked at her with dislike.He'd never liked the kind of guy who got smart after something happened. "When did you learn about this?" he asked again. The three girls look at me and I look at you.The smiling girl blushed and squinted at Miss Martindale's office. "Well, I—well—I just slipped out for a few minutes," she said, "I wanted to get some biscuits to take home, but I couldn't get them until after get off work. When I got to the store— -The bakery is around the corner, and the people there I know very well--The woman said: 'She works in the same place as you, doesn't she, miss.' I said, 'What are you talking about?' And she said : 'This girl was just found dead in a phone booth.' Oh, I was dazed and I ran back and told them what happened, and finally we decided we should tell Miss Martindale about it, and at that moment, she Came out of her office saying: 'What are you doing? A typewriter isn't working.'" The blond girl went on to say: "So I said, 'It's not our fault, we've just heard terrible news about Ina, Miss Martindale.'" "Well, she wouldn't believe it at first," said the brown-eyed girl, "and she said: 'Nonsense. You're just hearing it, it's someone else, not her. How could it be Ina?' Then she went back to her office and called the police to confirm it was true." "But I understand," Jenny said vaguely, "I really don't understand why anyone would kill Yi Na." "It doesn't seem to be because of her boyfriend, she doesn't seem to have any boyfriend," said the brunette girl. And the three looked hopefully at Hardcastle, as if he could answer their questions.He sighed.They have no hope.Maybe one of the other girls could help him, Sheila Webb herself. "Are Sheila Wilbur and Ina Brant good friends?" he asked. Everyone looked at each other ambiguously. "Not a special friend, I suppose not." "Oh, by the way, where is Miss Whispering?" They told him that Leila Webb had gone to the Curlew Inn.

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