Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Eight

Five days later, at eleven o'clock in the evening, I arrived at Crowding.Ask for a room at the Carlandon Hotel.Then fall into a deep sleep.Overslept because I was so tired the night before.When I opened my sleepy eyes—it was already nine forty-five! I asked the waiter to bring me my boss, coffee, and the day's paper.When he sent the things I asked for, unexpectedly, there was a large open envelope with the words "Please Mr. Colin Lamb" written on the upper left corner. I inspected this unknown thing in amazement, the paper was of good quality, not cheap, and the handwriting was neat.

Played with it for a while and couldn't see why.I finally opened it.Inside was a piece of letter paper with only a few large characters on it: Curlew Restaurant Room 413 (Tap three times!) Is it a joke?There is no beginning and no end! However, I noticed that the room number - four one three - was exactly the same as the time on the clock at the murder scene.Is this a coincidence, or a deliberate arrangement? .I immediately thought of calling up to the Curlew to find out what was going on, and then another thought of calling Dick Hardcastle: I didn't do anything, after all. At that time, there was no sleepiness.I got up, got dressed, walked outside, and arrived at the Curlew Hotel on time at half past eleven.

The breath of summer is no longer visible on the streets, and the noise of people in the restaurants is not as loud as in the peak tourist season. I didn't go to the counter to inquire, so I took the elevator to the fourth floor and found Room 413 along the corridor. Stay at the door for a minute or two, thinking of that playful letter, and feeling like a fool.But, "if you come, you will be safe", you always have to try your luck, I raised my hand, and knocked three times slowly... A voice inside said: "Come here!" Try to twist the handle - the door is not locked, I slipped into the door cautiously, but was stunned on the spot!

Inside is the person I would most like to see again in this life! Curry Poirot was sitting in a chair and looking at me with a smile. "Surprised?" He said with a smile, "I hope it's a surprise for you!" "Poirot, you old fox!" I couldn't help shouting, "How did you get here?" "I came in a comfortable limousine--and the most luxurious one!" he said slowly. "Why! Talking about it, I'm offended! They insisted on fixing my house, and argued about it—oh! What can I do! Look at me, what can I do, and where can I go?" "There are many places to go in the world!" I said coldly.

"Maybe. But my doctor suggested that sea air is good for my health, so here I am!" "Hmph! Your flattering doctors! They just know that you want to come here to be a favor." I waved the letter in my hand, "Is this your masterpiece?" "Of course, who else?" "Your room number - four one three, is it a coincidence?" "No! It was specially designated by me!" "why?" Poirot turned his head to one side, winked at me and said: "I think that's very apt." "Then what does knocking three times mean?"

"Ah, it's just for fun! Don't you think it's more mysterious? Originally, I wanted to attach a rosemary, but I couldn't find it. I thought, bite my finger and print a few flowers on the outside of the door." Bloody fingerprints, and I'm afraid that if the wound becomes inflamed..." "I see, you are rejuvenating more and more," I said coldly at him, "later, I'll buy you some balloons and baby-free toys!" "It seems that you are not satisfied with my masterpiece, and you don't like to see me." "It disappoints you, doesn't it?" I still satirized him unrelentingly.

"Come on, come on, come on, let's get down to business. I have some humble opinion that I hope will help you. I've already called on the amiable Chief, and now, your friend the Inspector— Dick Hardcastle must be here soon, too." "What are you going to tell him?" I was surprised. "Huh? I'm not going to give a speech. Later, it's just the three of us chatting." I stare at him.One finally burst out laughing.He spoke nicely—just chatting, but, I know, only one of them was talking. Hercule Poirot! Here comes Hardcastle.After introducing each other.Everyone sat down and chatted in an easy-going way.From time to time Dick looked furtively at Poirot, as if watching a strange animal in a zoo.I can't help laughing secretly.He had probably never met a man like Poirot.

After finishing the conversation, Hardcastle began to clear his throat and turned to the topic. "Mr. Poirot," he began cautiously, "about what you want to know—well, the ins and outs of the whole case, to be honest, it's really hard to describe." He paused and then said: "Although the director entrusted me to tell you as much detail as possible, there are really too many strange and puzzling doubts in it. But, since you came here in special time, I— —” Poirot interrupted him coldly. "I'm here because the house in London is being renovated." I couldn't help laughing, and Poirot gave me a reproachful look. . _.

"Mr. Poirot never goes out to look into the case himself. He always thinks that he can see everything from a chair."I turned to Poirot again and said, "But it's not quite so. Isn't it, Poirot? Otherwise why did you come all this way?" Ignoring my banter, Poirot said seriously: "I have always thought that there is no need to have a lot of hunting dogs, police dogs, smelly and bloody, busy back and forth. I only agree with a tracking dog with superior performance, you know? One that can faithfully bring back clues hound." He turned to the Inspector, stroking his mustache with one hand, with a look of triumph.

"I'll tell you," he said, "I'm not like the Brits, who are too superstitious about dogs. But I have nothing against your loyal relationship with dogs. People love dogs. Petting dogs not only pampers them, but also makes them happy with friends." They brag to each other about how smart and capable their dogs are. Sometimes, they obviously don’t want to go out on the street. But because of the dogs, they want to go for a walk, so they have to cheer up and walk around with their beloved dogs. The same reason , let’s speculate from another angle. A dog likes its master, adores its master, and once he knows what he desires, he will definitely try his best to satisfy his needs.”

"That's the relationship I have with this dear old friend - Colin. He came to me with this case, I think, not asking for help - I believe he should be able to solve it, ah, no , my dear friend, he just takes pity on my loneliness and boredom, and finds me some interesting things to do! At the same time, he may try to take this opportunity to test me - to see if I can really sit in the You can solve the problem in a chair!" Then he turned his eyes to me. "Isn't it? You naughty brat! Do you think I can't see your little tricks? But I don't blame you, I just want to say that you underestimate me!" Poirot leaned forward, his hands still He kept stroking his mustache. It's still the same, it's been a while, and it hasn't led to the topic yet!I looked at him lovingly. "Okay!" I lured him into the core, "If you have found the answer, tell us! Deliberately delaying time, is it not clear yet?" "Who said that! Of course, I know what I'm doing!" Poirot blows his beard and stares as expected. Hardcastle couldn't help but cheer up when he heard this, but he still looked at Poirot suspiciously. "You mean—you know who was responsible for the murder at number 19, Wilbraham Lane?" "Yes!" Poirot looked up. "Then, do you also know who killed Miss Ina Brant?" "Then there's no need to ask?" "Do you know the identity of the deceased?" the inspector asked urgently. "I... can find out." Hardcastle's eyes were full of doubts, but he kept his demeanor politely, remembering the director's repeated exhortations.But still unable to conceal the suspicion in the voice: "Mr. Poirot, please forgive my impoliteness, and may I take the liberty of asking you again, did you just announce that you do know who the murderer is?" "Yes, that's right!" "So you solved the case?" "This...not really." "After talking for a long time, you are just guessing based on a hunch!" I also began to lose my temper. "I don't want to haggle over meaningless words with you, Colin, I just want to emphasize that I know the answer!" He insisted. Hardcastle sighed helplessly. "But, Monsieur Poirot, we must have real evidence before we can announce the case." "Of course! As long as you listen to my analysis patiently, and then deal with it well, I guarantee that you will get what you want without any effort." "I don't dare to be too optimistic." "Don't be so virtuous! My detective, you have to take it step by step! What's the rush?" "Why not?" sighed Hardcastle again. "We watched the murderer get away with it, and we knew he was snickering." He's a bad guy!" Poirot deliberately teased him. "There, there, Poirot," I interrupted, "please don't go around in circles! Tell us what you know!" "I understand that you still don't believe me. Humph! It's okay! But, before I solve the mystery, I want to teach you a concept. The so-called 'sure' means that apart from this assumption, there is no other possibility... ..." "For God's sake," I begged, "stop preaching! I agree with you, okay?" Poirot changed his comfortable angle and asked Hardcastle to help him pour another glass of wine before he spoke slowly. "My friends, to solve any case, the first thing you need is to collect facts. Therefore, you need a hound, a hound with superior performance, which can faithfully bring the real information one by one..." "Bring it back to it Master." I hastily finished speaking for him. "It is impossible for a person to sit in a chair and collect information only by newspaper news. Because what we need is true information, and newspaper reports are usually untrue-even if reliable information is rarely available occasionally, it is not enough They may refer to an event that happened at 4:15 as exactly 4 o'clock, or they may refer to someone's young wife, Miss Elena, as his sister, Miss Elizabeth..., such ridiculous stupid things , too many to list. Fortunately, this venerable little Colin has a special advantage, that is, his great memory. I believe that this advantage will be very helpful to his future development. Ah! I'm sorry, it's getting too far. By the way, because of his excellent memory—did you know? He can repeat exactly what happened a few days ago: that is to say, he can recite the process he experienced, I will tell you without increasing or decreasing, and in the same order. This is very important, very important! This means that even if I am not at the scene, as long as I listen to Colin's report, I can know what happened!" "It's a pity that this faithful dog can't deduce the answer from it?" I couldn't help smiling wryly. "Unfortunately, so far, it seems to be!" continued, "I have these real materials, as if I have been there. When Colin retold the story, the first thing that struck me was its strangeness. The characteristics of the four clocks at the scene. Each of them is one hour ahead of the normal time, and the people at the scene "said" they didn't know who it was. Speaking of this, we have to remember a principle: don't trust Other people's words, unless it has been confirmed in many ways." "You think exactly as I do," Hardcastle seconded approvingly. "Suddenly a dead man lay on the ground - a well-dressed middle-aged man. Everyone 'said' they didn't know him. In his pocket, there was only a business card: 'Mr. R. H. Curry, 7 Denver Street , Metropolitan and Local Insurance'. The police have checked many times, and there is no Cove Street, Metropolitan and Local Insurance Company, and so on, there may be no such person as 'Mr. Curry'. From this, it can be seen that this business card is a fake Yes - it's the murderer's deliberate deception. But hey, don't be discouraged! Relatively, this is also the first strong lead we have. Well, let's go on - it seems like an interesting and attractive movie Isn't it? Now the scene turns to the Cavendish Secretary Typing Agency. At 1:50, the phone rang, and a lady named Pebmarsh asked the agency to send a shorthand typist to Weiwei before three o'clock. 19, Wilbraham Lane, and the strange thing is that she specifically designated Miss Sheila Webb. So Miss Webb arrived at 19 Wilbraham Lane before three o'clock in the afternoon. Entering the room, she saw a dead person lying on the ground, she immediately screamed and rushed out of the house, crashing into the arms of a handsome young man in panic—” Poirot stopped and looked at me. I couldn't help standing up, bowing and saying, "Yes. Met a young hero like me—just in time for a hero to teach a beauty." "Look!" Poirot said with a doting look at me. "Even you like to get in and exaggerate it dramatically! Well, well, let's get back to business! That's it, the whole thing Dramatic, unbelievable, and unreal! To be honest, this kind of thing can only happen in some detective novels-for example, the stories of the late Mr. Gaduan Grayson, the great master of detective fiction. In By the way, when Colin came to tell me this strange case, I was immersed in some famous detective novels, and I was amazed by some plots carefully arranged by certain authors! But, the most interesting Yes, I found that - listen carefully! The crux of the case is often the place that people are most likely to ignore! It is said that the most dangerous is the safest! Do you understand? People often focus on "appearance" The abnormal side: Why doesn’t the dog bark when it’s time to bark? It’s a closed house, how could a dead body come out of nowhere? Makes you turn around with dewy hair. If this is a novel, you will definitely disdain it ignorant of it! But, ignorance! Now here is the fact that a man died in Wilbraham Lane for no apparent reason. , even if you are full of anger and can't figure it out, you have to work hard to find out, after all, this is not a novel, but a living fact, right?" Although Hardcastle was disturbed by Poirot's chatter here and there, his last sentence hit the nail on the head of everyone's current state of mind, and Hardcastle had to nod his head vigorously. Satisfied, Poirot began to ramble again: "A line from a novel, 'Where to hide a leaf?—into the woods! Where to hide a pebble?—to the beach!' If, let me learn from this writer Tone: "Where to hide the lost youth of a woman?" I would never say: "Hide in all the women who have lost their youth!" That would be too dramatic! Because, real life is not like this. I will Say, in a pile of colorful rouges, lipsticks, cosmetics, fancy mink coats, and tacky bling! You know what I mean?" "Ah—" the inspector looked at him who was frothing, and didn't know whether to nod or shake his head frankly. Poirot ignored it, and went on self-consciously: "Because people will be confused by the dazzling disguise and ignore the true faces of these women. They can never imagine that under the lonely lamp in the quiet night, after washing the lead, these women have no eyebrows and goose skin and white hair! Speaking of this, I can't help thinking of the astonishment of a foolish man when he sees the truth. Ha, ha, ha! It's ridiculous! Ah-cough, cough, where did I say? Oh,--so, I told myself , and told Colin that because this case is so confusing and complicated, it must be a very simple case. Isn't it? Colin, did I say so?" "Yes!" I nodded. "However, you haven't come up with the key to convince me!" "Ah, this, don't worry, don't worry, let's take our time." He shook his head and said, "Now, let's get to the heart of the matter, throwing away the annoying disguise. A man was killed—why was he killed?" Kill, who is he? We just need to find out these two answers, and the problem is solved. Obviously, the second answer is related to the first answer. So, let's discuss the second question first, 'Who is he? Who?' This man could be a blackmailer, a successful magician, or an obnoxious husband—his presence was a nasty, dangerous threat to his wife...too many, too many possibilities, That's a lot! But—" he swallowed, "everyone who saw the dead said, 'What a pity, this man seems to be from a decent family!' Suddenly, I asked myself, 'Aren't you Say, it's a simple murder?' Well, let's simplify it!" Poirot looked again at the Inspector and asked: "Do you understand?" "Ah—?" Hardcastle, who was expecting the dawn to appear, was suddenly asked, and opened his mouth again in a daze, not knowing how to answer.After going around in such a big circle, the point has not been said at all!It is too early to ask this question. "Okay! It's that simple! A normal, happy man was killed, and no one in the neighborhood knew him. Obviously, he came here to find someone, or to meet someone here. At this point, we have Narrowed down. Well, someone! Who, then? Miss Pebmarsh, or Miss Wilbur of Secretary's Type? Of course they all 'said' they didn't know. Remember, I advised Colin, 'to find a neighbor nearby. chat, and inspect their background and living habits'. Because, through official official inquiries, people often hide the truth in order to protect themselves. Every little bit is the key to turning the whole case around and making it clear." "Great insight!" I snorted. "It can only be borrowed. In this case, it doesn't work at all." "No, you are wrong! My dear friend! You have overlooked a very important word!" "Really?" I didn't believe it, "Which sentence, who said it, and when?" I recounted the stories, and I couldn't figure out the way. How could he get the decisive key from my words?I don't believe in evil! "Come on, come on, my dear friend!" "Please, Mr. Poirot!" Hardcastle urged him politely. "We have circled around No. 19, Wilbraham Lane. The residents in this circle are all likely to be the murderers of the deceased, Mrs. Heim, Mr. and Mrs. Bland, Mr. and Mrs. Mark Norton, and Miss Waterhouse. But We must not leave out: two key figures, Pemash and Miss Wilbur. Although Pemash points out that she had left Wilbraham Lane before one thirty-five, she probably killed him before she calmed down. Leaving, similarly, Miss Worrier may have committed a murder before rushing out with a pale face on purpose." "Ah, there are some clues!" the inspector finally said. "Also," said Poirot, sliding his wheelchair. "Colin, my dear friend, you are not free from suspicion!" "Ah?!" I really didn't expect, "Are you finished?" "Of course it can't be over yet, the play hasn't ended yet!" I sneered and said, "I was so stupid to rush to tell you this big news?!" "The murderer always thinks he is smart and can cross the sea!" Poirot pointed out, "If he succeeds, wouldn't it just satisfy your purpose of laughing at my incompetence?" "Furthermore, I really believe that I am the murderer!" I forced myself to laugh, and began to fidget. Poirot turned again to Hardcastle. "Let's reorganize from the beginning. There are four seemingly irrelevant clocks on the scene, each of which is almost an hour, and a lady who was requested by the customer went to the appointment. It happened that the body was found... All this seems to have been cleverly arranged in advance .Okay, let's go back to the dead man. Someone planned to kill him. If we can find out the identity of the dead man, we will be able to point the arrow to the murderer. If he is a blackmailer, we will definitely check the person who was blackmailed. If he is a As a private detective, we may suspect a criminal with whom he had an affair. If he is a wealthy person, we may think of those family members who are anxious to inherit the property. However, the headache is that it is impossible to find out who the deceased is What identity, so it is even more difficult to find the murderer!" "Except for Miss Pebmarsh, no one seems to have any connection with the case." Poirot gave me a meaningful look. "According to our Colin's report, it seems that every neighbor is innocent. Brand is famous." Mark Norton is a visiting professor at Cambridge University, Mrs Heim is a well-behaved grocer, and the Waterhouses are good old folks who have lived here for generations! 'Mr. Currie', who is he, where is he from, and why is he at 19 Wilbraham Lane. Now! We began to recall the conversations of each of our neighbours, and the one that caught my attention the most was that of Mrs. Heim An unintentional joke—when we were talking about not knowing why Mr Curry came to Wilbraham Lane, she said, 'Ah! I know, he's come here to die!' You know? She gave A very precious gift of mine, Mr. Curry came all the way to die here!" He emphasized again: "It's that simple!" "I was also very impressed by her words!" I said flatteringly. Poirot turned a deaf ear, and sang, shaking his head: "Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! He came all the way to die!" Then, "But the problem remains! We still don't know who he is—no Wallet. No documents, even the tailor number on the suit was removed. Not only that, the murderer also tricked us, a fake business card, making everyone run around like a stray dog. I can imagine. His pride Extremely gloating!" "Here, there is a little bit of deliberation - how can the murderer be so sure that we can't find out the real identity of the deceased? Even if he doesn't live nearby, even if he has no family members - but there must be some human relationship , For example, there must be a landlord, a classmate, a colleague... etc. Sooner or later someone will come to identify the body-I have waited, but there really is no. So I made an assumption-no one noticed his body Missing. Then, I assumed that he was not British at all, but just a tourist here. This can solve your other doubt, why the deceased obviously had dentures, why he went to various dental clinics and couldn’t find him photos and medical records." "Having established this point, I have drawn out the general outlines of the murderer, the deceased, and the whole case. Aha!—unmistakable! Although the case is obviously cleverly designed and executed almost flawlessly, but ah , but, I caught the tail, haha! The murderer probably couldn't even dream of it!" "What tail?" Hardcastle demanded. I held my breath and waited intently for the next chapter, but unexpectedly, this fellow Poirot actually began to chant poems indifferently at this juncture: In order to find a nail, but dropped the shoe; In order to mend a shoe, he ran his horse; In order to find a horse, but lost soldiers; In order to make up a soldier, but lost the battle; To win back battles, but lose kingdoms; Whoops, whoops,— All for a nail on a horse shoe! After he groaned dramatically, he turned to other topics on his own. "There may be many suspects who killed Mr. Curry, but there must be only one suspect who killed Miss Yi Na!" We were all taken aback by his sudden direct attack, and stared at him intently. "Let's turn the camera to Jia Wenqiuxi's secretary typing company. There are eight girls working there. On the day of the first issue on September 9, four girls were invited to go out to work in a distant place. That is to say, they did not come back Lunch. Four people are usually assigned as the first lunchers, that is, from half past twelve to half past one. The remaining Sheila Webb, Ina Brant and two girls, Jenny and Maureen, It belonged to the second batch of meals from 1:30 to 2:30. But in that first year, not long after leaving the office, Ina had business for a long time and broke the heel of her shoe. She couldn’t walk like that, so she bought bread nearby and returned office." Poirot shook his finger for our attention. "Do you remember? Her colleagues said that after the incident, Yi Na seemed restless, as if she had something on her mind. She had been trying to talk to Shira outside the office, but she died suddenly! Her death caught everyone's attention. Turning to Wilbur again, I think there must be some secret between them, which is related to this bizarre serial murder case - if it were me, I would not spend so much effort to study what secret they have, girl, maybe it’s just Ina's personal matters are only discussed with Wilbur! But, I pay attention to one important point: she wants to talk to Wilbur 'outside'—why can't she talk about it in the company?" "I remembered again, what you said, that Yi Na said to the police during the interrogation: 'I don't understand how what she said could be true.' This is a very important point again! The 'she' Yi Na said was To whom. There were three women who testified that day: the most suspicious, of course, was Miss Wilbur, and possibly Pebmarsh, and the strange thing was that no one seemed to care much about the last possibility: Miss Martindale." "Martin Day's team? She's only a few minutes' testimony." Hardcastle thought she was the most distant person. "That's right! She just appeared in court to explain that she received a call from Miss Pebmarsh!" "You mean, 'Ina doesn't think Miss Pebmarsh made the call?" "No! It could be simpler! I don't think there is such a call at all!" Poirot continued, ""I guess, on the day of the incident, Ina's heel fell off and she had to go back to the office.But Miss Martindale didn't know that Yi Na came back quietly in her private office, thinking that she was the only one in the whole company.So she faked a call at one forty-nine and sent Wilbur out.Before the incident, Ina didn't know about these plots, because Wilbur was called into Martindale's private office.Then the murder happened, and it was reported everywhere: '...Miss Pomeranian called Miss Whirling...but Pomeranian denied that she had called...Miss Martindale of Gavendish But she insisted that Peima Su did call at 1:49..." Poor Ina became uneasy, because at that time, she was in the company and didn't hear any calls. Why did Martin Dai insist on having a call? Then she must be mistaken!However, Yi Na did not dare to act rashly, and was eager to talk to Wilbur in private first. " "Then, the inquest came back, and all the ladies went to listen. Miss Martindale still insisted on her testimony, but Ina knew it very well. The exact time Martindale pointed out, even Miss Pebmarsh , was a lie. So she asked the police and asked to speak to the Inspector. Unfortunately, this request was overheard by Miss Martindale in the crowd, or she heard the girls talking about Ina Broken What happened to the heel, and it's clear what happened. Anyway, she followed the girl to Wilbraham Lane. I don't know, where did Ina go?" "Just curious to see the crime scene, I suppose?" Hardcastle said with a slight sigh. "People always do!" "It's quite possible. Maybe Miss Martindale was talking to her there, and Ina, who had no intentions, couldn't help the doubts in her heart at last--at this moment, they just walked to the telephone booth, and Martindale Immediately make a decisive decision and act immediately-oh! I can't bear to think about it! Ina shouldn't have asked Martindale directly, let alone walked into the phone booth by mistake. I don't want to think about how this woman Trick her into it,...Maybe, Miss Martindale said it was a very important matter, you must call the police immediately and tell them that the two of us are going to the station now. Ina, unsuspecting, turned Entering the booth, picking up the phone,...Martin Dai also followed closely, tightened Yi Na's scarf, and hanged her." "Did anyone see it?" Poirot shrugged. "I also hoped that someone would see it. In fact, it was a pity that they didn't! It was one o'clock at noon, and people on the street were busy looking around in front of No. 19 at lunch time. I couldn't help but sigh secretly. A great opportunity for female madmen to strike!" After hearing this, Hardcastle shook his head, "Although it makes sense, I still can't imagine how Miss Martindale could be related to this case?" "Of course, it's not obvious on the surface, but since Miss Martindale, who killed Ina—hey, yes—is the only one who kills Ina, then it must have something to do with this case." Poirot He paused as if remembering something, "Cruel! What a Lady Macbeth! It's a pity——lack of imagination!" "Lack of imagination?" Hardcastle wondered. "Oh yes, very unimaginative. But efficient and good at planning." "But why? What was the motive?" Poirot turned to me and said: "You just said that chatting with neighbors is of no use in this case, huh?" He raised his eyebrows authoritatively and said: "But I found a really crucial sentence to solve the case!" Scanning us back and forth with piercing eyes, he continued: "Are you right? When talking about living overseas, Mrs. Bland said a word: 'I like living in Crowding very much, because my biological sister Live here too.' But—my dear friends! Mrs. Bland should not have a sister! Everyone knows that Mrs. Bland inherited a large fortune only a year ago from a rich Canadian uncle. , just because she is the only surviving direct relative of her natal family! If so, where is her biological sister?" Hardcastle straightened up alertly. "what do you mean--" Poirot changed his sitting position again, played with his nails meaninglessly, pondered for a while, then narrowed his eyes, and said slowly in a dreamlike tone: "Now, suppose you are an ordinary and careless man who happens to be financially incapable. One day, a strange letter suddenly falls from the sky, and a lawyer informs you that your wife is about to be transferred from your uncle in Canada. Inherited a considerable amount of property. The named successor in the letter was Mrs. Bland. Originally, this was a big surprise. The problem is: the current Mrs. Bland is not the niece of the rich man, she is the second Mrs. Bland Madame. Think, think, the regret after this surprise! What a pity! What an exasperation! And then an idea came up! Who knew?—In Crowding, no one knew the cloth Mr. Land was married twice. The first time, during the war, he was serving overseas, and soon after his wife died, he married again almost immediately. Although the first Mrs. Bland died, but He still has their marriage certificate, photographs and other documents. Even if Mrs. Bland in the photograph is a little different from the current one, but after many years, and the only identifiable Canadian uncle is dead, then-if They impersonate, and no one can make it out! Only heaven, earth, him, and his wife know about this, so it’s safe! After thinking about it, they decided to take this risk. Fortunately, they succeeded. After going through legal procedures, they received the inheritance. So, look at the Bland couple today, they suddenly became rich, and all financial difficulties were easily solved!" "However, a year later, something happened that they didn't expect. A friend of the former Mrs. Bland came all the way from Canada to visit her. He may be her former neighbor, or their family doctor. , lawyer or something... Whoever he is, he may see through the identity of this Mrs. Bland. Therefore, the Bland couple began to think about how to avoid him. Mrs. Bland can pretend to be sick , You can also pretend to be traveling by chance... But no matter how you arrange it, it will only arouse suspicion! Because this friend has already informed her that he will make a special trip to see her—" "So - murder him?!" "Yes! And, according to my speculation, Mrs. Bland's sister is the mastermind behind it! She made this opinion and planned this almost invulnerable murder." "So you think Mrs. Bland and Miss Martindale are sisters?" "Only this possibility?". . "Indeed, when I saw Mrs. Bland for the first time, there was a sense of familiarity," said Hardcastle, "the two of them--looking back, they are indeed somewhat similar, although they are very different in temperament. But, how can they be so calm? Even if we can't find out, the Canadian side—his relatives and friends will wonder why he hasn't been seen since he went there?" "If a person travels across the oceans, his itinerary is not as fixed as a business investigation. It may take a long time for him to occasionally send a picture postcard back to his hometown—even if the address of A is written, but the postmark of B—people It's not easy to detect the situation. Wait until they start to feel something is wrong. It may have been a long time. Even if the Canadian side inquired about Croding... It's been a long time, so why not? People are always forgetful, as time goes on ，谁会把孤魂野鬼与这位富有的加拿大观光客联想在一起？如果我是凶手，我会找个借口到法国、比利时玩玩，顺便把死者的护照随手去在火车或电车上，那么，加拿大方面就会从该国查起，时间愈拖长，则愈对我有利啊——” 白罗话中有话，我才想起自己又忽略一条线索，“布兰德先生透露最近曾偷偷带一位金发美女到法国布伦玩，那时我只以为——” “很正常啊——哪只猫儿不偷腥？何况，这本来就是布兰德先生的兴趣之一。”白罗存心臭我。 “但这一切，从头至尾，只是推测。”哈卡斯特仍然反对。 “你可以开始调查了！”白罗说着从架上取出一张饭店的便条纸递给他。 “你可以写封信给恩德比先生，地址是加拿大xXXx。他是闻名国际的大律师，已经答应帮我这个忙。” “那么，现场的四个钟又是怎么回事儿？” “喔！钟，这四个了不起的钟！”白罗神秘兮兮地急着接下去说。 “这就是玛汀戴用来搅局的道具。一开始我就说过，这必是个单纯的谋杀案，只是装模作样地布局成扑朔迷离的大案件。其中那个迷途香钟是雪拉·威伯的，本来要送修，却不慎在公司里遗失，被玛汀戴取来派上用场：其实，这也是倒楣的威伯被扯入这个漩涡的原因。” 哈卡斯特终于恍然大悟，不同意地嚷道：“如此巧妙的布局，而你居然说她缺乏想象力？！难以想象，要花多少时间筹划呢？” “用不了太多时间，因为根本不是她策划的！这才是本案最有趣、最传神之处！甫自侦察本案件开始，我老觉得很熟悉——一种很熟的做案方式。因为，我才刚刚读过类似的剧情。我一直是很幸运的——这个礼拜，我参加一个专售作家手稿的拍卖会，其中，有一些是盖瑞·格瑞森先生的。虽然不敢抱太大希望，但，幸运之神很照顾我。你们看——”他变魔法似的，打开书桌的抽屉取出两本破旧的笔记本，“全在这里面！这两本笔记本记载着他预备写小说的各种情节大纲。可惜，有些令人赞叹的大纲来不及连串成册，这位泰斗就去世了。但是，他的秘书——玛汀戴小姐，知道部分情节，擅自盗用，以达到她杀人灭口的目的。” “但是，那些钟在原来格瑞森先生的情节里，一定有其涵义。” “喔，是的！他原来设计三只钟，一只时间定在5：01，第二只5：04，第三只5：07，把这三个数字放在一起。515457——保险箱的暗码。保险箱被藏在复制的蒙纳莉莎画像背后，里面……”白罗不悦地接下去，“藏着俄国皇室的皇冠和珠宝。好啦，电影播映到此为止，一切水落石出，真相大白！我们可以称之为'一个贪心妄想女人的故事'！当然，对编剧兼导演的玛汀戴小姐而言，这个任务太容易，只要挑几个具体方色彩的重点换到原来的剧本上就好，太轻而易举了！但她自作主张安排的角色：威伯、佩玛繻小姐，甚至那四只钟，除了在荧幕上亮亮相，凑凑热闹外，下文如何？当然不会有下文了！啊哈——所以，我说么，一个缺乏想象力，却行动快速、有工作效率的女人！我不得不说，伟大的盖瑞·格瑞森先生赠给她一笔丰富的遗产，是不是？——但，话说回来，我们这位伟大的侦探泰斗怎么会死呢？他是怎么死的？为什么死的？一嗯——我很怀疑……” 哈卡斯特对过去的历史不感兴趣。他敏捷地收好格瑞森的两本笔记本，并在便条抵上了草地涂写思德比律师的地址。短短的一、两分钟，我目不转睛地盯着他快速挥动的笔，真不可思议！饭店名称与地址颠倒在便条纸的左下方，显然，这位大探长把纸张拿倒了。 盯着这纸条，刹那间，我才体会过去自己的愚蠢！ “白罗先生，非常谢谢您，”哈卡斯特站起身说：“今天真是受益非浅！同时，很感谢您的协助。” “哪儿话？嗳，谈不上什么帮忙。”又来了，故作谦虚状。 “这会儿，我该赶紧去办事。” “自然，自然，请使——” 互道再见，哈卡斯特转身离古。 白罗转过头来看我，表情丰富地说：“啊哈，我亲爱的朋友，请容我问。你怎么啦？见鬼了？怎的一副愁眉苦脸的样子？” “没什么，只是，猛然了解自己的愚蠢。” “啊，没关系！凡人么，难免如此！” 但白罗似乎就不会！我一定要打击打击他。 “亲爱的白罗，再请教一件事情，——你所一向强调的'坐观大势'，你只要坐在伦敦家中的椅子上即能洞察一切，也能把我和哈卡斯特叫你家里去，那……为什么，你要破例跑到这儿来呢？” “我已经说过两次，他们正整修我的房子。” “他们可以暂时租给你另一个房子，否则，你也可以趁此机会到一流的里兹饭店去。保证有更豪华、更舒适的享受，为什么跑到这名不见经传的麻鹬饭店呢？” “毫无疑问，”白罗说：“咖啡！我亲爱的朋友，因为这儿的咖啡！” “咖啡？什么意思？” 赫邱里·白罗大为冒火。 “嗐，既然你那么笨于猜测，我告诉你。我是人，是个是？如果需要，我可以变成机器。我可以躺靠着椅子，沉思。我可以如此解决问题。但我告诉你，我是人，而那些问题是和人有关的。” “是又怎么样？” “我的解释一如那桩谋杀一般地简单。我是凭着人类的好奇心。”赫邱里·白罗想要保住尊严地说。