Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty-Five

Narrative by Colin Lamb I waited a minute or two before the door opened. One is tall.A young Nordic woman with blond hair, a ruddy face, and a brightly colored dress looked at me questioningly.Her hands had just been hastily wiped, but there were still traces of flour, and there was a pinch of flour on her nose, so I could easily guess what she was doing. "I'm sorry," I said, "I thought you had a little girl, she dropped something out of the window." She smiled at me, probably not good at speaking English. "Sorry, what did you say?" "Here's a little child—a little girl."

"Yes, yes." She nodded. "Through the window—something fell." I compared gestures.Two "I picked it up and brought it up." I held out an open hand holding a silver paring knife.She looked, but didn't recognize it" "I don't think so—I haven't seen it..." "You were busy cooking. "I say. "Oh yes, I'm cooking. Yes." She nodded vigorously. "I didn't mean to bother you," I said, "but just let me take this to her." "Sorry." She finally understood what I meant, and led me down a corridor and opened a door.Inside the door is a lovely living room.A sofa was pulled up to the side, and on it stood a girl of about nine or ten years old, with a leg in a plaster cast.

"The first middle school said——you dropped..." At this moment, fortunately, a strong burning smell came from the kitchen. My guide let out a cry of panic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." "Go ahead," I said sincerely, "I'll do it myself'." She ran to the kitchen as if flying, and I walked into the living room, closed the door, and walked to the sofa. "Hello?" I said. The little girl said, "Hello?" and gave me the tax-profitable glance that nearly knocked me out of my composure.She was a very plain child, with a prominent forehead, a sharp chin, and bright gray eyes.

"I'm Colin Lamb," I said. "What's your name?" "Grantine Mary Alexandra Brown." She immediately answered me. "Grantine Mary Alexandra Brown." "Hey," I said, "it's such a long name, it's not easy. What do people call you?" "Grantin. Sometimes Gerry, but I don't like it, and my dad doesn't approve of short names." One of the great advantages of dealing with young children is that they have their own logic.If you change to an adult, you will be asked immediately what you want.Grantin was more than ready to talk to me without resorting to dumb questions.She was alone, without company, bored, and any visitor was a pleasant novelty.She'll talk to me unless I'm acting dull myself.

"I guess you're not at home." I said. Her responses were as fast and detailed as before. "He works at the Kamming Hovan Machine Works in Beaver Bridge," she said. "The correct miles from here are fourteen and three-quarters miles." "Where's your mother?" "Mummy passed away," said Grandin, without diminishing her joy.Then he added: "She died when I was two months old. She came on a plane from France and the plane crashed and everyone on board died." "I see," I said, "so you have—" I took a look at the front door.

"Her name is Ingrid and she's from Norway. She's only been here two weeks and doesn't speak English very well. I'm teaching her" "Did she teach you Norwegian?" "Not much," said Grandin. "you like her?" "Yes, she's nice, but sometimes she cooks weird things. You know what? She likes raw fish." "I've had raw fish in Norway too," I said, "and occasionally it's fine." Grantin seemed convinced. "Today she was trying to make a molasses cake," she said. "Sounds good."

"Well—yes, I like it." She added politely: "Are you here for lunch?" "No. Actually, I was passing outside and I think you dropped something out of the window." "I?" "Yes." I presented the silver fruit knife. Grandin looked at it suspiciously at first, then sighed approvingly. "That's great," she said. "What's this?" "fruit knife." I open the knife. "Oh, I see. You mean you can peel apples with it." "good." Grantin sighed. . "It's not mine. I didn't drop it. How do you think I dropped it?"

"Oh, you were looking out the window just now, and..." "I used to look out the window," Grandin said. "I fell and broke my leg, you see." "bad luck." "Yes. It wasn't a fun fall. I got off the bus and I fell. It hurt at first, but now it doesn't." "You must be bored," I said. "Yes. But my father bought me a lot of things. There are plastics, clay, books, pastels, puzzles, etc., but after playing for a long time, I will get tired of it, so I use this to look outside most of the time." She proudly showed me the small telescope.

"Can I take a look?" I said. I took it over, adjusted the focus, and looked out the window. "Very good." I praised. This pair of binoculars is indeed very good.If Grandin's father bought it, it must have cost a lot of money.No. 19, Wilbraham Lane, and the neighboring houses, were visible with astonishing clarity.I handed the telescope back to her. "Fantastic," I said, "top-notch." "It's for people," Grandin said proudly. "It's not a toy." "Yes... I can see that." "I have a little notepad," said Grandin.

She showed it to me. "I keep track of events and times in it, like a train watcher. I have a cousin named Dick who does that. Sometimes we use it to see the license plate numbers of motorcycles as far as you can read them." How far." "Very good, very interesting." I said. "Yes, unfortunately there are no cars on this street, so sometimes I have to give up." "I suppose you're familiar with the houses down there--who lives in them, and all sorts of things." I spoke carefully, but Grandin responded immediately. "Oh, yes. But of course I don't know their real names, so I'll have to name them myself."

"That must be very interesting," I said. "That's the Marquise of Calabasas," Grandin pointed, "the one with the messy trees. She has lots and lots of cats." "I was talking to one of them just now," I said, "the orange one." "Yes, I saw you," said Grandin. "You must be very observant," I said. "I hope you haven't missed anything." Grantin smiled happily.Ingrid opened the door and came in panting. "How are you talking?" "It's all right," said Grandin firmly. "Don't you worry, Ingrid." She nodded vigorously and made a gesture. "You go back, you go cook." "Okay, I'm going. Glad you have company." "She gets nervous every time she's in the kitchen," Grandin explained, "I mean when she wants to try something new. So sometimes we eat late. I'm glad you came, someone Divert your attention so you don't think about being hungry." "Tell me more about the people in those houses," I said, "and what you saw. Who lived in the house next door—the neat one—." "Oh, a blind woman. Her eyes couldn't see, and yet she walked like no one was blind. The porter told me. His name was Harry, and he was a very nice man. He told me many things, He told me about the murder." "Murder?" I sound appropriately surprised. Grandin nodded, eyes serious. "There was a murder in that house. I literally 'saw' it." "It's so interesting." "Yeah. I've never seen a murder, I mean, I've never seen a place where it happened." "What did you see—what?" "Well, there was no movement around at that time. . . You know, it was a vacuum. The exciting thing was that someone came out of the house screaming loudly, and I knew then that something must happen." "Who's screaming?" "A woman, very young and beautiful. She came out the door, screaming, very high-pitched. There was a young man coming down the street, and she ran out of the iron gate and grabbed Hold him—like this." She made a gesture with her arms and stared at me together. "He looks a lot like you." "Someone must have copied me," I said lightly, "and then?" The perverted cat, I call him the 'Emperor', because as soon as he looked haughty--stopped licking, very surprised, and every time Miss Spear came out of her house--it was that family. Eighteen No.—she stood on the steps and watched, because she is a person who can wear at a glance. So I call her Miss Spear, and she has a younger brother, and she often bullies him" "What else?" I found it very interesting. "And then all sorts of things happened. The man came out of the house again—you're not that man?" "My appearance is very ordinary, and there are many people who look like me." "Now, I think you are right." Grantin said without derogatory meaning: "Well, anyway, this person walked down the street and made a call in the phone booth. Soon, the police arrived one after another." Her eyes lit up, and she said, "There were a lot of police, and then the ambulance took away the body. Then, There were a lot of onlookers at that time, and I saw that Behari was also in the crowd. Later he told me." "Did he say who was killed?" "He just said he was a man and no one knew his name." "It's all very interesting what you said," I said. I pray that Ingrid will not barge in at this moment. "But earlier, tell me what happened earlier. You saw this man—this murdered man—did you see him come into the house?" "No, I didn't see it—I think he must have been there a long time." "You mean he lives there?" "No, no, no one lives there except Miss Pebmarsh." "You know her real name?" "Oh, yes, it was in the papers. Murder reports. The screaming girl was Sheila Webb. Harry told me the murdered man was named Curry. Funny name, isn't it? Good food. Also, there was a second murder, you know, not the same day - later - in a phone booth down the street. I can see it from here, just stick my head out Out of the window. Of course I didn't really see it, I mean I didn't see it happen. A lot of people were standing in the street that morning, looking at the houses across the way. Stupid, don't you?" "Yes," I said, "very stupid." Ingrid appeared again. "Soon," she assured, "soon." She left again.Grandin said, "We don't really need her. She only has to worry about her pastries. She only has to take care of that one meal apart from breakfast. In the evenings Daddy goes out to eat and then brings me something, sometimes Fish, sometimes other things. Not really a meal." There was some wistfulness in her voice. "When do you usually have lunch, Grantin?" "You mean my dinner? This is my dinner. I don't have dinner at night. Well, when Ingrid cooks, I eat it. Her concept of time is very interesting. Breakfast must be on time because of Daddy's presence." , but there is no fixed time for this meal at noon. Sometimes it is eaten at twelve o’clock. Sometimes it is not eaten until two o’clock. Ingrid said, eat when you are ready, there is no fixed time.” "Well, that's a very leisurely thought," I said. "What time did you have your lunch—I mean dinner—on the day of the murder?" "It was lunch at twelve. You know, Ingrid was out that day. She went to the movies or had her hair done, and Mrs. Perry was with me. She was horrible, really. She liked petting people." "Patting people?" I was a little confused. "Patting people's heads and saying things like 'dear baby,'" Grandin said. "She's not the type to have a good conversation, but she used to bring me candy." "How old are you, Grandin?" "Ten years. Ten years and three months." "I think you're very clever in your speech," I said. "That's because I often talk to dad." Grandin said seriously. "And you ate early on the day of the murder?" "Yes, Ingrid washed the dishes and was out at one o'clock." "Well, you spent that morning looking out of the window, watching the people." "Oh, yes. Just watched it for a while. Earlier, about ten o'clock, I was doing anagrams." "I've been wondering if it's possible you saw Mr. Curry come to that house?" Grantin shook his head. "No, I haven't. I just think it's weird." "Perhaps he was there early in the morning." "He must have left the front door and rang the bell, or I might have seen it." "Perhaps he went across the garden. I mean, from the other side of the house." "Oh, no," said Grandin. "The Flower Room backs on to other houses, and no one would be happy to have a stranger walk through his garden." "Yeah, I don't think they will" "Wish I knew what he looked like," Grandin said. "Oh, he's very old. He's about sixty. He has a fair face and no mustache. He wears a dark suit." Grantin shook his head. "It sounds ordinary." She was a little disappointed. "Anyway," I said, "I don't think it's easy for you to remember and distinguish the different days, as you've been relying on them so often." "It's not difficult at all." She stood up to accept the challenge.Added: "I can tell you everything that happened that morning. I know. 'Mrs. Crab. When to come and when to leave." "It's the woman who comes to clean up every day, isn't it?" "Yes. She walked very fast, like a crab. She had a little boy, which she sometimes brought with her, but not that day. Then Miss Pebmarsh came out about ten o'clock and taught at the School for the Blind." Mrs. Crab left about twelve o'clock. Sometimes she would leave with a little package that she didn't have when she came, cream and cheese, I think, because Miss Pebmarsh was missing, what happened that day I know very well that Ingrid is angry and doesn't speak to me because I quarreled with her. I teach her English and she wants to know how to say 'until we meet again' in English. She has to speak German to me. auf wiedersehen (German: Goodbye). I've been to Switzerland and people say that, so I know they say Gruss Gott too." "And what did you say to Ingrid?" Grandin laughed, wickedly.She wanted to speak, but she couldn't speak because she laughed so hard that she finally spoke. "I taught her to say 'Damn it, get the hell out!', so she took it to Mrs. Boothwood next door, and Mrs. Boothwood was furious. When Ingrid knew the truth, she was angry and I didn't Be friends. We didn't make up until about tea time the next day." "So you concentrate on playing with your telescope." Grantin nodded. "That's why I know Mr. Curry didn't come in through the front door. I figured he might have sneaked in at night somehow and hid in the attic. Do you think it's possible?" "I suppose anything is possible," I said, "but in this case, I don't think so." "Impossible," said Grandin. "He'd starve like that, wouldn't he? And if he's avoiding Miss Pebmarsh, he can't ask her for breakfast." "Nobody goes to the house, then?" I said. "Nobody? Nobody comes by car--on business--or to visit?" "The grocer doesn't come until Mondays and Thursdays," said Grandin, "and the milkman arrives at eight-thirty every morning." This kid is truly an encyclopedia. "Miss Pebmarsh bought things like garden vegetables herself. No one came except the laundry. It was a new laundry," she said. "New laundry?" "Yeah, usually the South Downs Laundry. That's where most people get their laundry done. A new one came that day - the Snowflake Laundry. I've never seen a Snowflake Laundry before, must have just opened." I tried my best to restrain myself, not to let my strange voice stimulate her excitement and exaggerate my words. "Are they delivering the clothes, or are they coming to collect them?" I asked. "Clothes," said Grandin, "the basket is huge, much larger than usual." "Has Miss Pebmarsh accepted it?" "No, of course not, she went out again." "When was that, Grantin?" "Thirty-five past one, exactly," said Grandin, "I wrote it down." She added another sternly. She pointed to a small notepad, opened it, and pointed with a dirty forefinger to a line: Thirty-five past one, laundry to nineteen. "Scotland Yard should invite you," I said. "Do they have female detectives? I like it. I don't mean the police, I think the police are stupid." "You didn't tell me what happened when the laundry man came." "Nothing happened," said Grandin. "The driver got out, opened the door, took out the basket, and wobbled around the side of the house to the back door. I guess he couldn't get in. Miss Pebmarsh probably locked the door." It's locked, so he might just put the basket in there and come back." "What does he look like?" "Just like a normal person," Grandin said. "Like me?" I asked. "Oh, no, much older than you," Grandin said. "I didn't see it well because he's driving off--here near Nineteen." She pointed to the right side of the street. "He missed it, but it's okay for a street like this. Also, he was carrying the basket, bent over, and all I could see was the back of his head, and when he came out again, he was wiping his face. I think It’s probably because of the hot atmosphere and the heavy load.” "And he walked away?" "Yes. Why are you so interested in this?" "Well, I don't know," I said, "I thought he might have seen something interesting." Ingrid opened the door suddenly, pushing a cart. "It's time to eat." She nodded briskly. "Excellent," said Grandin, "I'm hungry." I stand up. "I've got to go," I said. "Goodbye, Grandin." "Goodbye. What about this thing?" She picked up the fruit knife and said, "It's not mine." Her voice was wistful, and she added, "I hope it is." "Looks like nobody's there, doesn't it?" "Looks like a gift from heaven?" "Probably so," I said, "I think you'd better keep it and just do it until someone comes to pick it up. But I don't think anyone's going to do that." I was telling the truth. "Give me an apple, Ingrid," said Grandin. "apple?" "Pomine! Apple!"