Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two

When I got on the phone with Inspector Slack, his orders were short and firm. Do not "spill" any information.In particular, Miss Crumb must not be alarmed.Meanwhile, begin searching for suitcases around the cemetery. Griselda and I returned home, thrilled by this new development.In Dennis's presence we couldn't talk too much, as we had solemnly pledged to Inspector Slack not to say a word to anyone. In any case, Dennis is a nuisance.He came into my study and started to rummage through things, slipping his feet around and looking very nervous. "What's the matter, Dennis?" I said at last.

"Uncle Lun, I don't want to be in the navy anymore." I was surprised.Before this child, his attitude towards his personal future was very firm. "But you like the sea very much." "Yes, but I've changed my mind." "what do you want to do?" "I want to go into the financial world." I was even more surprised, "What do you mean by the financial world?" "That's what it means. I want to go to town." "But, my dear boy, I am sure you will not like that life. Even if I got you a job at the bank—” Dennis said that was not what he meant.He doesn't want to go to the bank.I asked him what he meant, and of course, as I expected, he didn't really know.

When he said "go to the financial world", he actually meant to get rich quickly. He believed with the optimism of a young man that as long as one "entered the city", he would definitely get rich.I dismissed him as gently as I could. "What brought you to that idea?" I asked. "The idea of ​​being in the Navy is what satisfies you." "I know, Uncle Lun, but I've been thinking about it. I'm going to want to get married some day—I mean, you've got to be rich to marry a girl." "Facts sometimes contradict your theory," I said.

"I know—but a real girl. I mean, a girl used to a comfortable life." That's vague, but I think I know what he's referring to. "You know," I said mildly, "not all girls are like Lettice Protheroe." He immediately lost his temper. "You're being unfair to her. You don't like her. Neither does Griselda. She says she's boring." From a woman's point of view, Griselda is quite right.Lettice is indeed boring.However, I'm fully aware that a boy would be angry with this adjective. "I wish people would be more considerate of her. Why even Hartley Napier is going around complaining about her at a time like this just because she left their tennis party a little earlier. If she's bored, why stay What? I think it is very appropriate for her to leave. "

"Good point," I said, but Dennis didn't suspect any malice from me.His heart was full of melancholy about Lettice. "She's really not selfish at all. This incident shows that, and she told me to stay. Naturally I wanted to leave too. But she wouldn't listen to me. It would be too much of a disappointment for the Napier family to say that. So, for To please her, I stayed a quarter of an hour longer." It's really strange how young people think about selflessness. "And now I'm hearing Susan Hartley Napier go around saying that Lettice behaves sloppily."

"If I were you," I said, "I wouldn't have to worry." "Of course it's nothing, but—" He suddenly broke out a sentence: "I'll—I'll do anything for Lettice." "Very few of us can do anything for anyone else," I said, "no matter how clever we are, we are powerless." "I wish I was dead," Dennis said. poor guy.Love between boys and girls is like a deadly disease.Some blunt and perhaps irritating words slipped naturally to my lips, but I refrained from uttering them.Instead I just said good night and went to bed.

I presided over the eight o'clock prayer the next morning.When she came back, she saw Griselda sitting at the breakfast table with an open note in her hand.The note was from Anne Protheroe. Dear Griselda: I would be very grateful if you and the priest could come here quietly for lunch today.Something very strange has happened, and I must have Mr. Claremont's opinion. Don't mention this when you come, because I didn't say a word to anyone else. Much love to your Anne Protheroe "Of course we must go," said Griselda. I agree. "I can't guess what happened."

I can't guess either. "You know," I said to Griselda, "I feel that we are far from getting the truth of the case." "You mean the truth isn't known until someone is arrested?" "No," I said, "that's not what I mean. I mean, there are tributaries and undercurrents, and we don't know anything about it. We've got to clear everything up before we can get to the truth." "Do you mean those trivial matters which prevent the understanding of the case?" "Yes, I think that expresses quite clearly what I mean."

"We're all too fussy, I think," Dennis said, grabbing a little jam for himself. "It's a good thing old Protheroe's dead. Nobody likes him. Oh! I know the police have to worry, that's their job.But I myself hope that they never find out.I'd hate to see Slack get promoted, swagger, and go around showing off his smarts. " "Dr. Haydock's thoughts are very close to mine," Dennis continued. "He would never give the police a murderer. He said so." This, I think, is the danger of Haydock's view.These views may be justified--I don't think so--but they will have some effect on the unconcerned minds of young people, which I think Haydock himself would never have liked to see.

Griselda looked out the window and said there were reporters in the garden. "I think they're taking pictures of the study windows again," she said, sighing. All this makes us suffer a lot.First came the curiosity of the lazy villagers, everyone came here to stare, then the reporter with the camera, and the villagers came to watch the reporter again.In the end we had to call in a policeman from Much Burnham to stand outside the windows. "Oh," I said, "the funeral is tomorrow morning. After that, of course, the excitement will die down." When we got to the "old house," I noticed a few reporters wandering around.

They came up to chat with me and asked all kinds of questions, and I always answered (I found it was the best answer): "I have no comment." The footman led us into the drawing-room, where the only person in the room was Miss Crumb, who was obviously very happy. "You're surprised, aren't you?" she said, shaking our hands. "I never thought of such a thing, but Mrs. Protheroe is nice, isn't it? Of course you'd think it bad for a young girl to stay in a place like the 'Blue Boar' with reporters all around her. Of course, I don't seem helpless, and at a time like this you do need a secretary, for Miss Protheroe can't be of much help, can she?" The usual dislike for Lettice persisted, and it amused me to note that the girl had evidently become Anne's ardent accomplice.At the same time, I doubt that the claim that she came here is very accurate.In her account, Annie had invited her, but I doubt that was the case.Only the fact that she didn't like "Blue Wild Boar" at the beginning was probably the girl's original intention.I have not reached a conclusion on this question.I don't think Miss Crumb was telling the whole truth. At this moment, Anne, Protheroe entered the room. She was dressed in sober black and held a Sunday newspaper. She gave me a sad look and handed me the newspaper. "I've never been through anything like this. It's terrible, isn't it? I saw a reporter at the trial. I just said I was very disturbed and said I had no comment, and he asked me if I was in a rush to find out My husband's murderer, I said 'yes'. Then he asked if I had anyone to suspect, I said 'no'. Then asked me if I thought the criminal knew the local situation, I said of course it seemed to be. That's it. Now, look at this." In the center of the page was a photograph, apparently from at least ten years ago.Who knows where they dug it from.Then there is the title in bold font: The widow's daughter-in-law claimed that she would never give up if she was worried about finding out the murderer who murdered her husband. Mrs. Protheroe (the victim's widow) asserts that the murderer must be tracked down locally.She thinks some people are suspect, but can't be sure.She claimed she was overwhelmed with grief, but showed determination to track down the killer. "That's not like what I said, is it?" asked Anne. "Dare I say it could have been worse," I said, handing back the paper. "They're shameless, aren't they?" said Miss Crumb. "I'd like to see what these fellows can ask of me." I saw Griselda blinking her eyes. I believe that she thought these words were just words and would not put them into action. When it was time to eat, we walked into the restaurant.Lettice didn't come until halfway through the meal, and she walked to the empty seat, smiled at Griselda, and nodded at me.For some reason, I watched her attentively.But she was as dazed as ever.Very pretty, I have to admit it in all fairness.She still didn't wear filial piety, but she was wearing light green clothes, which brought out the delicate beauty of her complexion even more. After we had had coffee, Anne said quietly: "I want to talk to the priest. I have to ask him to my bedroom." Finally, I'm about to know why she asked us to go.I got up and followed her up the stairs.She stopped at the door of the room.I was about to speak when she held out a hand to stop me.She listened attentively for a moment, overlooking the dining room. "Okay. They're out in the garden. No, don't go in there. We can go straight up." To my great surprise she led the way down the corridor to the end of the wing.Here a narrow ladder-like staircase led to the upper floor, and she climbed it.I climbed up too.We came to a dusty boardwalk.Annie opened the door and let me into a dark attic that was apparently used as a utility room. There were trunks, broken old furniture, and stacks of paintings, and various odds and ends between the clutter. There was obvious surprise on my face, and she smiled lightly. "First, I have to explain. I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Last night—at three o'clock this morning to be precise—I believe I heard someone moving around the house. I listened for a while, and finally got up to look. I Realizing that the noise was coming from the landing, not from below, but from above. I came up to these ladders. I thought, I heard another noise. I called out: 'Is anyone there?'" no answer.Afterwards, I heard nothing more, so, thinking it was my nervousness, I went back to sleep. "But, early this morning. I came here—just out of curiosity. I found this!" She knelt down and turned a painting that was leaning against the wall, with the canvas facing away from us. I was gasping for breath.This is obviously an oil painting portrait, the face has been hacked and hacked so that it can no longer be recognized clearly.However, the knife marks are still new. "What an extraordinary thing!" I said. "Really? Tell me, can you think of any reason?" I shake my head. "It's kind of wild," I said. "I don't like it. It's like it was done in a fit of mania." "Yes, I think so too." "What is the painting?" "I don't know a thing. I've never seen it before. When Lucius and I got married and came here, all this stuff was in the attic. I've never cleaned it, and I don't want to bother." "Extraordinary," I said. I knelt down and began to look carefully at other paintings.The paintings are generally what you'd expect to see - some very ordinary landscapes, some lithographs and a few reproductions with poor frames. There is nothing left to offer clues.A large old-fashioned suitcase, the kind once called a "cabinet," with a capital E. p. I lifted the lid off the box and it was empty.There was nothing left in the attic to give any clues. "That's a very surprising thing," I said. "It doesn't make any sense." "Yes," said Anne, "that frightens me a little." There is nothing more to see.I followed her to the living room below, and she closed the living room door. "Do you think I should do something about it? Tell the police?" I hesitated. "On the face of it, it's hard to tell whether—" "Some connection to the murder," Anne said, taking over from me. "I see. That's the difficulty. On the face of it, there doesn't seem to be any connection." "Yes," I said, "but that's another strange thing." We both sat in silence, frowning in bewilderment. "What are you going to do?" I asked after a while. She looked up. "I'm going to live here for at least six more months!" she said defiantly. "I don't want to do that. I hate the thought of living here. But I think it's the only option. Otherwise, people will say, I ran away, I have a sense of guilt." "of course not." "Oh! Yes, they will. Especially when—" She paused, then added: "After six months—I'm going to marry Lawrence." Her eyes met mine. "Neither of us intends to wait any longer." "I think," I said, "it's going to end like that." Suddenly, dejectedly, she buried her face in her hands. "You don't know how grateful I am to you--you don't. We've said good-bye to each other. He's going to go. I'm--I'm terrified of Lucius' death. If we're going to elope together, He died then again—it would be very bad now. But you showed us how dangerous it would be. That's why I am grateful to you." "Thank you too." I said solemnly. "Anyway, you know," she straightened up. "Unless the real murderer is found, they'll think it's Lawrence - oh yes, they will. Especially when he's married to me." "My dear, Dr. Haydock's evidence shows very clearly—" "What evidence do people care about? They don't even know it. After all, medical evidence means nothing to an outsider. That's another reason I'm here. Mr. Claremont, I want to find out." When he said these words, his eyes sparkled.She said again: "That's why I called the girl here." "Miss Crumb?" "yes." "You did ask her, then. Was it your idea, I mean?" "Exactly. Oh, actually, she complained a bit. At the trial—I saw her there. No, I asked her to come here on purpose." "Of course," I cried, "you don't think that stupid young woman has anything to do with the case?" "It's so easy to look stupid, Mr. Claremont. It's one of the easiest things in the world." "So, do you really think—" "No, no. To tell the truth, no. All I had thought was what the girl knew, or might know. I wanted to study her, in close proximity to her." "The painting was poked around the night she arrived," I mused. "Do you think she did it? Why? It seems utterly absurd and impossible." "It seems to me absolutely impossible and absurd that your husband should have been murdered in my study," I said sharply, "but he was murdered anyway." "I know," she said, putting her hand on my arm, "that this is terrible for you. I do know it, but I don't say much about it." I took out the blue lapis lazuli earrings from my pocket and handed them to her. "I suppose it's yours?" "Oh yes!" She smiled happily and reached out to take it. "Where did you find it?" But I didn't put the earring into her outstretched hand. "Do you mind," I said, "if I keep it for a while?" "Oh, of course it will," she said, looking puzzled and inquiring.However, I did not satisfy her curiosity. Instead, I asked her what her financial situation was like. "That's an impolite question," I said, "but I don't really care about that." "I don't think it's an impolite question at all. You and Griselda are my best friends here. I like that funny old Miss Marple too. Lucius is rich, you know. He Divide the things between me and Lettice quite evenly. The 'old house' belongs to me, but Lettice can choose enough furniture to fit a small house, and she has another sum of money to buy a small house so that the distribution fair." "What is her plan? Do you know?" Anne made a funny face. "She didn't tell me. I thought she'd get out of here as soon as possible. She didn't like me—never did. I dare say it's my fault, but I really always try to be discreet. But I Any girl would be mad at her stepmother." "Do you like her?" I asked bluntly. She did not answer at once, and I led me to believe that Anne Protheroe was a very honest woman. "I liked her at first," she said. "What a pretty girl she was. I don't think I like her now. I don't know why. Maybe it's because she doesn't like me. You know, I like being Others like it." "We all do," I said, and Anne Protheroe laughed too. I have only one thing to do.That is to speak with Lettice Protheroe alone.I figured that was easy because I caught a glimpse of her in the deserted living room.Griselda and Gladys Crumb are outside in the garden. I went in and closed the door. "Lettis," I said, "I have something to talk to you about." She looked up nonchalantly. "yes?" I had already thought about what to say.I took out my lapis lazuli earrings and said calmly: "Why did you drop this in my study?" I saw her startle - it was almost spontaneous.But she quickly regained her composure, and even I wasn't sure about the change.Then she said casually: "I never dropped anything in your study. It wasn't mine. It was Anne's." "I know that," I said. "Oh, then why do you ask me? Annie must have dropped it." "Mrs Protheroe has only been in my study once since the murder, and at that time she was dressed in black, so blue earrings are unlikely." "Then," said Lettice, "I think she must have dropped it before." She added: "That's perfectly logical." "It's perfectly logical," I said, "I suppose you don't happen to remember when your stepmother last wore earrings?" "Oh!" she said, fixing me with a questioning and trusting gaze, "does it matter?" "It might be important," I said. "I'll have to think hard," she sat there, frowning.I've never seen Lettice Protheroe so charming. "Oh, yes!" she said suddenly. "She wore earrings on—Thursday. I remember now." "Thursday," I said slowly, "was exactly the day the murder took place. On that day Mrs. Protheroe came to my study in the garden, but you will recall that in her testimony she said she just went to the window Before, did not enter the house." "Where did you find this?" "Rolled under the desk." "So, she doesn't seem to be telling the truth, does she?" Lettice said coldly. "Do you think she did come in and stand at the desk?" "Oh, it seems so, doesn't it?" She looked at me calmly. "If you want to know," she said quietly, "I never thought she was telling the truth." "But I also don't think you're telling the truth, Lettice." "What do you mean by that?" She was terrified. "I mean," I said, "the last time I saw that earring was when I came here with Colonel Melchett on Friday. It was on your stepmother's dresser with the other earring. I do I've seen two earrings together." "Oh—" her voice trembled, and she suddenly leaned her body against the armrest of the chair, crying.Her short hair fell down almost to the floor.It was such a strange pose—beautiful and uninhibited. I was silent and let her sob for a while.Then I said very gently: "Letty, why are you doing this?" "what?" She jumped up, throwing her hair back violently.She looked wild—almost terrified. "What do you mean?" "What made you do it? Jealousy? Dislike of Anne?" "Oh—oh, yes!" She pushed her hair back from her face and seemed to regain control suddenly. "Yes, you can call it envy. I don't like Anne since she came here, all pompous. I put the damned thing under the desk. It's going to make trouble for the land, I hope. If You're not such a nosy person to even touch something on the dresser and it will take effect. Anyway, it's not the priest's job to run around and help the police." It was resentful, childish willfulness.I don't care. Indeed, she looked like a poor child at this moment. Her naive attempt at revenge on Anne was hardly serious.I said this to her and said I would return the earring and keep my mouth shut about the circumstances of the discovery.She seemed deeply moved. "It's very kind of you," she said. She paused for a moment, then, turning her face away, said carefully: "You know, Mr. Claremont, I'll--I'll get out of here with Dennis soon. If I were you, I think it would be better." "Dennis?" I raised my eyebrows in a little surprise, but also a little amused. "I think it's better," she added, still embarrassed. "I'm sorry for Dennis. I don't think he's—anyway, I'm sorry." That's the end of our conversation.