Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

I was called into the study when Lawrence Redding arrived.He looked haggard and, it seemed to me, suspicious.Colonel Melchett greeted him with some civility. "We want to ask you a few questions here and there," he said. Lawrence just smiled coldly. "Isn't this a French idea? Reframing crime?" "My dear boy," said Colonel Melchett, "don't talk to us in that tone. You pretended to commit this murder, but do you know anyone else who confessed to committing it?" The words had an immediate painful effect. "Another—another?" he stammered. "Is—who?"

"Mrs. Protheroe," said Colonel Melchett, watching him. "Ridiculous. She didn't do it. She couldn't have done it. It's impossible." Melchett interrupted him. "It's strange that we don't believe her lies. I can tell you, and I don't believe yours either. Dr. Haydock said with certainty that the murder couldn't have happened at the time you said." of." "Did Dr. Haydock say that?" "Yes, so, you see, you have been exonerated whether you like it or not. Now, we want you to help us and tell us the truth about what happened."

Lawrence was still hesitant. "You're not deceiving me about—about Mrs. Protheroe? You really don't doubt her? " "On my honor," said Colonel Melchett. Lawrence took a deep breath. "I've been a fool," he said, "a complete fool. I should believe for a moment that she did—" "How about you tell us all about it?" suggested the Chief of Police. "There's not much to tell. I—I met Mrs. Protheroe that afternoon—" He paused. "We all know about that," said Melchett. "You may think that your affair with Mrs. Protheroe is a well-kept secret, but in fact it has been known. , being talked about. Everything will be exposed under any circumstances."

"Very well, then. I hope you are right. I had promised this clergyman (who glanced at me) to leave at once. I met Mrs. Protheroe in the studio that evening at a quarter past six. I told She made my decision. She also agreed that it was the only option. We—we said goodbye. "We left the studio almost at the same time Dr. Stone joined us. Anne tried to look as nonchalant as possible. I couldn't. Stone and I went to the 'Blue Boar' for drinks. Then I thought I'd have to go home. But when I came to the corner of the road, I changed my mind and decided to walk over to see the pastor. I felt that I wanted to talk to someone about it. At the door, the maid told me that the pastor was out, but he would be back in a moment, And said Colonel Protheroe was waiting for him in the study. Oh, I didn't want to go away again—looked as if I was afraid to see him. So I said I'd wait too, and went into the study."

he stops. "How is it?" asked Colonel Melchett. "Prothero was sitting at the desk, just as you found him. I approached him and touched him. He was dead. Then I looked down and saw the pistol fall on the floor beside him. I Picking up the gun, I immediately recognized it as mine. "That opened my mind. My gun! Then, I jumped to conclusions. Annie must have taken my gun at some point, it was for her to end her life in agony.Maybe she carries a gun today.After we parted in the village, she must come back here—oh!Thinking of this is driving me crazy.But those thoughts are all I think about.I slipped the gun into my pocket and left.Just at the gate of the vicarage, I met the vicar.He said something polite and normal about seeing Protheroe, and suddenly I had the urge to laugh wildly.His behavior was so ordinary, but I was extremely nervous.I remember yelling out some ridiculous words and seeing his face change suddenly.I believe I nearly lost my mind at the time.I left and walked, and walked, until finally I couldn't walk anymore.If Annie did this horrible thing, I am at least morally responsible.So he surrendered himself. "

After he finished speaking, the room was silent.Then the Colonel said in a businesslike tone: "I have to ask you a question or two. First, did you touch or move the body in any way?" "No, I didn't touch him at all. You can tell he's dead without touching." "Did you notice the note on the blotter half-covered by his body?" "No." "Did you set the alarm clock in any way?" "I didn't touch the alarm clock at all. I seem to remember an overturned alarm clock sitting on the table, but I didn't touch it at all."

"About your gun, when was the last time you saw a gun?" Lawrence thought for a moment: "It's hard to say for sure." "Where did you keep your gun?" "Call, put it in a pile of sundries in the living room of my residence. On the first shelf of the bookcase." "Did you leave your guns lying around?" "Yes. I really haven't thought about it. That's where the gun is." "So anyone who came to your place could have seen the gun?" "Yes," "Can't you remember when you last saw a gun?" Lawrence frowned thoughtfully.

"I'm almost sure the gun was there the day before yesterday. I remember putting it aside to get an old pipe. I think it was the day before, but it could have been a day earlier." "Who has been to your place lately?" "Oh! a lot of people. There's always people coming and going, and there were some people at a tea party the day before yesterday. Lettice Protheroe, Dennis, and their friends. Then, now and then, an old lady or two." "Did you lock the door when you went out?" "No, why lock the door? I have nothing for anybody to steal. No one locks the door around here."

"Who looks after your things there?" "An old Mrs. Archer came 'to look after me' every morning, so they said." "Do you think she'll remember the last time the gun was there?" "Don't know. She might remember. But I don't think serious cleaning is something she's good at." "So it looks like almost everyone has probably got that gun, doesn't it?" "It seems so—so it is." The door opened, and in came Dr. Haydock and Anne Protheroe. She was surprised when she saw Lawrence.And he hesitantly took a step closer to her.

"Forgive me, Anne," said he, "it is unpleasant to think of what I have done." "I—" she stammered, and then looked beggingly at Colonel Melchett. "What Dr. Haydock told me—was it true?" "Do you mean Mr. Redding's suspicions cleared? Yes. Now, Mrs. Protheroe, what about your words? Well, what about?" She smiled a little shyly, "I guess you guys think I suck, don't you?" "Well, we thought—kind of silly, didn't we? But it's over. What we want to know, Mrs. Protheroe, is the truth, the absolute truth." She nodded solemnly.

"I'll tell you. I think you know—know everything." "yes." "I was going to meet Lawrence, aka Mr Redding, in the studio that night. It was a quarter past six. My husband and I drove into the village. I had to do some shopping. As we parted, my husband said casually that he would To see the vicar. I was too late to inform Lawrence and was also very disturbed. I, oh. My husband is at the Vicarage and I am meeting him in the vicarage garden, which is embarrassing." Speaking of this, her cheeks turned red.She is not feeling well at this moment. "Perhaps my husband won't stay too long, I thought. To see the result, I came along the path behind the garden and went into the garden. I hope no one will see me, but of course Miss Marple must be in her In the garden she called me and we had a few words. I explained that I was going to call my husband. I felt I had to say something. I don't know if she believes me.Her expression looked rather odd. "After I left her, I walked straight past the vicarage, round the corner of the house, and came to the window of the study. I climbed cautiously up the ledge, hoping to hear voices. But to my surprise, the room was empty. One. I just glanced in, saw the house was empty, and hurried across the lawn to the studio. Lawrence came out of the studio almost immediately to meet me." "Mrs. Protheroe, do you say the room is empty?" "Yes, my husband wasn't there." "Unbelievable." "Master, do you mean you didn't see him?" asked the inspector. "No, I didn't see it." Inspector Slack whispered to the Chief of Police, who nodded. "Mrs. Protheroe, don't you mind showing us how you do it?" "not at all." She got to her feet, and Inspector Slack pushed open the window for her, and she stepped out onto the terrace and turned around the house to the left. Inspector Slack motioned me condescendingly to come and sit down at the desk. Somehow, I don't like doing it that much.This makes me uncomfortable.But of course I had to do it. After a while, I heard footsteps outside, the footsteps stopped for a while, and then retreated.Inspector Slack motioned to me that I could go back to the other side of the room. Mrs. Protheroe came in through the window again." "Is that exactly what happened? asked Colonel Melchett. "I think exactly so." "Then, Mrs. Protheroe, can you tell us where in the room the vicar was when you looked in?" "Preacher? I, no, I'm afraid I can't. I didn't see him." Inspector Slack nodded. "That's why you didn't see your husband. He was at the desk, in the corner of the room." "Oh!" she paused.Suddenly, she opened her eyes wide in fear. "Not there..." "Yes, Mrs. Protheroe. Just as he sat there." "Ah!" She trembled all over. He continued the questioning. "Mrs. Protheroe, do you know that Mr. Redding has a gun?" "Yes. He told me." "Did you ever get that gun?" She shook her head: "No." "Do you know where he kept his gun?" "I can't tell. I think--well, I think I saw the gun on a shelf in his house. Don't you keep it there, Lawrence?" "When was the last time you were in his lodgings, Mrs. Protheroe?" "Oh! About three weeks ago. My husband and I had tea with him there." "Haven't you been there after that?" "No. Never again. You see, it might cause a scandal in the village." "No doubt," said Colonel Melchett dryly, "where do you customarily meet Mr. Redding, may I ask?" "He used to come to the 'Old House'. He painted Lettice. Then we used to meet in the forest." Colonel Melchett nodded. "Isn't that enough?" She suddenly raised her voice. "It's horrible—to have to tell you all this. There's nothing wrong with it. No, there really isn't. We are just friends.We -- we can't help being considerate of each other. " She looked beseechingly at Dr. Haydock, and the soft-hearted man took a step closer. "I really think, Melchett," he said, "that Protheroe is overwhelmed. She's shocked in every way." The police chief nodded. "I really have nothing more to ask you, Mrs. Protheroe," he said. "Thank you for answering my questions so frankly." "Then—then may I go?" "Is your wife at home?" asked Haydock. "I think Mrs. Protheroe would like to see her." "At home," I said, "Griselda is at home. You can meet her in the living room." She and Haydock leave the room together, and Lawrence goes with them. Colonel Melchett, lips pursed, was fiddling with a paper knife.Slack was reading the note.It was at this point that I referred to Miss Marple's deduction.Slack stared at the note. "Boy," he said, "I'm sure the old lady's right. Look, sir, don't you see? The numbers are in a different ink. I bet, The date is written in pen." Everyone was quite excited, "Of course you checked the fingerprints of the note." The police chief said. "There are no fingerprints on the note at all. What do you think, Colonel? Those fingerprints on Mr. Laurence Redding's pistol may have been some other person's, before he was wandering about with the gun in his pocket, but Now it is impossible to get clear fingerprints." "At first the case seemed too bad for Protheroe," mused the colonel, "much worse than for young Redding. The old lady gave evidence that she had no gun with her, but these old Mistresses often get it wrong." I was silent, but I didn't agree with him.I am fully convinced that Anne Protheroe did not carry a gun, since Miss Marple said so. Miss Marple was not the kind of old lady who would make a mistake.She has an inexplicable knack for always being right. "The thing that bothers me so much is that no one heard the gunshot. If it was fired then--someone must have heard the gunshot--no matter where they think it's coming from. Slack, you'd better talk to Talk to the maid." Inspector Slack moved briskly to the door. "Better not ask her if she heard a gunshot in the house," I said, "because if you do, she'll deny it. Just say it was a gunshot in the forest. That's the only one she'll admit to hearing." kind of gunfire." "I know what to do with it," said Inspector Slack, and walked away. "Miss Marple said she heard a gunshot afterwards," said Colonel Melchett thoughtfully. "We'll have to see if she can pinpoint the exact time. Of course, it might have been an accidental shot that had nothing to do with the case." .” "Of course, it might be." I agreed. The Colonel took a turn or two around the room. "You know, Claremont," he said suddenly, "I have a feeling this case is going to be a lot more difficult than either of us thinks. Damn, there's got to be something behind it." He spat One snort. "Something we don't understand. We're only the beginning, Claremont. Mark my words, we're only the beginning. All these things, the alarm clock, the note, the pistol—it doesn't mean anything." I shake my head.These things certainly do not explain the problem. "But I'll find out. No report to Scotland Yard. Slack's a shrewd man. A very shrewd man. He's like a ferret, sniffing out the truth. He's done several Beautiful case, and it will be his chef d'oeuvre (French: masterpiece). Some people will report it to Scotland Yard. I won't. I'll get the case right here in Downshire." "I hope so, I believe so," I said. I try to make my voice as enthusiastic as possible, but I've developed a distaste for Inspector Slack, so his possible success has little appeal to me.I think a successful slack is more abhorrent than a frustrated slack. "Whose house is the neighbor's?" asked the colonel suddenly. "You mean the house at the end of the road? Mrs. Price Ridley's." "After Slack finishes asking the maid, we'll ask her. She may have heard something. She's not deaf, is she?" "I have to say, she has very good hearing. I've heard people say that she said 'by chance' before she started talking." "That's the kind of woman we want. Oh! Here comes Slack." The Inspector looked as though a hard wrestling had just been wrestled. "Pooh!" said he, "you've got a Tartar, sir." "Mary is actually a stubborn girl," I said. "I don't like the police," he said. "I reminded her that I tried my best to make her fear the law, but it didn't work. She didn't think much of me." "It's very personal." I said, liking Mary even more in my heart. "But I got her over. She heard a gunshot--just a gunshot. It was long after Colonel Protheroe came. I couldn't get her to tell the time, but at last we fixed the time by the fish delivery." The fish was late, and she scolded the boy when he came, but the boy said it was only half past six after all. Not long after that, she heard gunshots. Of course, it can be said that this is not accurate, but given We have an approximate time." "Yeah." Melchett responded. "I don't think Mrs. Protheroe had anything to do with it," said Slack, with regret in his voice. "She doesn't have time, that's number one, and women never like to walk around with weapons. They have more arsenic in their blood. No, I don't think she did.it's a pity! he sighed. Melchett explained that he was going to Mrs. Price Ridley's, and Slack agreed to go with him. "Can I go with you?" I asked. "I'm getting interested." He still agreed.So we set off together.We had just stepped out of the parsonage gate when we were greeted with a loud, "Hello!" My nephew Dennis came running down the road from the village to join us. "Listen," he said to the inspector, "how about that footprint I told you about?" "The gardener's," said Inspector Slack in a deflated tone. However, that wasn't enough to discourage Dennis. He took out some burnt matches. "I found it at the vicarage gate." "Thank you," said Slack, pocketing the matches. Now, it seems like it's the final moment of Dennis' showdown. "You're not going to arrest Uncle Len, are you?" Dennis asked jokingly. "Why should we?" Slack asked. "There's a lot of evidence against him," Dennis announced. "Ask Mary. Just the day before the murder, he was hoping that Colonel Protheroe would be wiped from the world. Didn't you, Uncle Lun?" "Hmm—" I hesitated to speak. Inspector Slack slowly cast me a suspicious stare, and I felt hot all over.Dennis is extremely annoying.He should know that a cop rarely has a sense of humor. "Don't talk nonsense, Dennis," I said angrily. The childish child stared at me with wide eyes in surprise. "I said it was just a joke," he said. "Uncle Lun just said that anyone who kills Colonel Protheroe is doing the world a good thing." "Ah!" said Inspector Slack, "that explains something of what the maid said." Servants have little sense of humour, either.Inwardly, I cursed Dennis for causing trouble.This incident, and the alarm clock, will make the Inspector suspicious of me for the rest of his life. "Come on, Claremont," Colonel Melchett called to me. "Where are you going? Can I go too?" Dennis asked. "No, you can't," I snapped. He stood behind us, showing an aggrieved look.We came to the neat front door of Mrs. Price Ridley's house, and the Inspector knocked and rang the bell with what I can only describe as prim demeanor.A pretty parlor maid came in response. "Is Mrs. Price Ridley home?" asked Melchett. "No, sir." The maid continued after a pause. "She has just gone to the police station." This is a completely unexpected development.As we walked back, Melchett grabbed my arm and whispered: "If she also confesses and turns herself in, then I will really go crazy."