Chapter 9 Chapter nine

This was the second time today that Patrick Redfonne was rowing to Leprechaun Bay.Hercule Poirot and Steven Lane were still sitting on the boat with pale faces and one hand stroking their stomachs.Colonel Winston went overland, and because of a slight delay on the road, the boat was just in the bay when he reached the beach.There was already a police officer and a plainclothes sergeant on the beach, and while Winston was talking to the plainclothes sergeant, all three people on board came over. Sergeant Phillips said: "I think I've checked every inch of the beach." "Very good, did you find anything?"

"It's all here, Chief, please come and have a look." A small pile of things was neatly placed on a big rock.There was a pair of scissors, an empty paper bag, five bottle caps of a special design, a few used matches, three pieces of string, a scrap or two of newspaper, a broken piece of a pipe, four buttons, and a bone from a chicken leg. , and an empty bottle of sunscreen. Winston looked down at these things. "Well," he said, "these things are quite rare given the state of the beach today. Most people don't seem to understand that the beach is not a rubbish dump. Empty bottles are here. It's been a long time, and the labels are blurred--I've been looking at other things for a long time. But this pair of scissors is new and bright. It didn't get wet when it rained yesterday! Where did you pick it up? "

"Under the ladder, where the pipe fragment was found." "Ah, maybe someone fell when going up and down there, can't you tell who it is?" "I can't see it. It's a very common pair of nail-cutting scissors. The pipe is of good quality--it's not cheap." Poirot murmured thoughtfully: "I think Mr. Marshall told us where his pipe was misplaced." Winston said: "Marshall has nothing to do with the case, and he's not the only one smoking a pipe." Hercule Poirot watched intently as Steven Lane reached for his pocket and withdrew his hand, and asked in a cheerful tone, "You smoke a pipe too, Mr. Lane?"

The priest was taken aback, looked at Poirot, and said: "Yes, well, I smoke a pipe too, and a pipe is my old friend and companion." He put his hand in his pocket again, and took out a pipe. , loaded with tobacco, and lit the fire. Hercule Poirot walked up to where Redfon stood, without expression in his eyes.He whispered, "I'm glad—they've removed the body..." Steven, Lane asked, "Where did you find her?" The sergeant said in a brisk tone, "Right where you're standing." Lan stepped aside quickly, staring at where he had just been standing.The sergeant continued: "From the place where the raft was moored, the time of her arrival is ten forty-five. It was with the tide at that time, but now it is reversed."

Winston said: "Have all the photographs been taken?" "It's done, Chief." Winston turned to Redfonne and said: "Now, old man, where is the entrance to the cave you speak of?" Patrick Redfern was still staring at the spot on the beach where Lane had been standing.It was as if he could still see the body that was no longer there.Winston's voice woke him up.He said: "It's right here." He led the way to a large pile of messy rocks at the bottom of the cliff, and walked directly between two huge boulders standing side by side, where there was a narrow gap. here."

Winston said: "Here? It doesn't look like a person can squeeze through." "This is an optical illusion, Director, people can just pass through." Winston walked quickly into the crevice, which was not as narrow as it seemed.The space inside is getting bigger and bigger, quite empty, allowing people to stand upright and walk around.Hercule Poirot and Steven Lane also entered.The others stayed outside the cave.Light shone through the cracks in the stone, and Winston also took a large flashlight in his hand, and shone it all over the cave.He said: "It's a very convenient place. From the outside, you can never guess what the inside will look like." He carefully shone the flashlight on the ground.

Hercule Poirot was sniffing the air, and Winston noticed it, and said: "The air is quite fresh, and there is no smell of fish or seaweed, but that is a matter of course, and it is above the highest water mark here." .” But to Poirot's sensitive nose, the air here was not only fresh, but also had a faint fragrance.He knew of two people who wore it... The flashlight in Winston's hand went out."There's nothing out of the ordinary here," he said. Poirot's eyes were raised to a protruding stone a little above his head. "I guess you can't see if there's anything up there from here?"

Winston said: "If there's anything on it, it must have been there on purpose. We'd better have a look, though." Poirot said to Lan En: "I think you are the tallest of the three of us. Could you please check if there is nothing on it?" Lane stood on tiptoe, but he still couldn't quite reach the bottom.Then, he found a small crack in the stone, so he stuffed his toes into it, and used his hands to prop up his body.He said, "Oh, there's a box on it." After a minute or two, they were back in the sunlight outside the cave, looking at what the priest had found.Winston said: "Be careful, don't move too much, I'm afraid there are fingerprints on it."

It was a dark green tin box with "SANDWICH" written on it.Sergeant Phillips said: "Someone left it at a picnic, I suppose." He opened the lid with his handkerchief.Inside were small iron containers labeled salt, pepper, mustard, etc., and two larger cube-shaped containers, apparently for sandwiches.Sergeant Phillips opened the lid of the salt shaker, which was full of salt.He lifted the lid of the second little jar and said, "Well, the pepper jar has salt in it too." The mustard jar still had salt in it.The sergeant suddenly showed a policeman's expression on his face, and opened the lid of the square flat box, which was also filled with white crystal-like powder.

Sergeant Philip dipped his finger in it quickly, and then brought it to his tongue for licking. The expression on his face changed, and he said in a very excited voice: "It's not salt, Chief, it's not at all! Bitter! Some kind of drug, I think." "The third angle." Colonel Winston groaned.They went back to the hotel, and the chief of police continued: "If this case also involves drug trafficking, then there are several possibilities. First, the deceased is likely to be one of the gang involved in drug trafficking. is it possible?" Hercule Poirot replied cautiously: "It is possible."

"Maybe she's a poisoner herself?" Poirot shook his head and said: "No way, she is in a stable mental state, in good health, with a radiant complexion, and no needle holes on her body (not that this proves anything, some people use it). I think She's not a drug addict." "If that's the case," said Winston, "she probably bumped into them by chance and was killed and silenced. We'll know what these things are right away. I'll send them to Niston for testing. If What a drug cartel, they ain't the kind of—” His words stopped short, for the door opened and Mr. Horace Platt entered quickly.Mr. Blatt looked hot and was wiping sweat from his brow.His loud, loud voice filled the room. "I just got back and heard the news! Are you the Chief of Police? They told me you were here. My name is Blatt, Horace Blatt. Is there anything I can do to help? I think Probably not. I was on board early this morning, and missed all the excitement. I was not there on the day of the real accident in such a small place. Such is life, is it not? Hello, Poirot, Didn't see you at first. So you're working on this case too? Oh, well, I think you'll be doing it too. Holmes and the local police. Isn't it? Haha! It's exciting to see you perform some detective skills. Very enjoyable." Mr. Blatt sank into a chair, produced a cigarette case, and handed it to Colonel Winston.He shook his head and said with a smile, "I'm a pipe smoker." "Me too, I smoke cigarettes--but nothing beats a pipe." Colonel Winston suddenly said kindly: "Then light your pipe and smoke, old man." Bratt shook his head. "I don't have the pipe now. Tell me about the case first. All I've heard so far is that Mrs. Marshall was murdered on one of the beaches here." "It's Goblin's Cove," said Colonel Winston, watching him carefully. But Mr. Blatter only asked excitedly: "She was strangled?" "Yes, Mr. Blatt." "Bad—bad! I say she brought it on herself! It's a tricky thing, isn't it? Eh? Mr. Poirot? Do you know who did it? Or should I not ask the question?" Colonel Winston said with a faint smile: "Well, you know, we should be the ones to ask." Mr. Blatt waved his cigarette. "Sorry—sorry—it's my fault, please." "What time did you sail out to sea this morning?" "Leaving here at a quarter to ten." "Is there anyone with you?" "No one, all alone." "Where did you go?" "Following the coast towards Polymouth. I had my lunch with me and it wasn't too windy, so I didn't really go very far." After another question or two, Winston asked: "Do you know anything about the Marshalls that might help us solve the case?" "Oh, I have already expressed my opinion to you, crimes caused by lust! All I can say is that it has nothing to do with me. Pretty Elena is of no use to me, and that has nothing to do with her. She has her My own blue-eyed boy! If you ask my opinion, I'll say Marshall got wind of it." "Do you have any evidence for this?" "Saw him once or twice glaring sideways at young lad Redfonne, Marshall was a dark horse, soft and docile-looking, and half asleep all day--but that was not his reputation in London. I've heard a thing or two about him. Nearly got an injury lawsuit one time, and I tell you, he's doing nasty business, and Marshall trusts him, and he cheats, I think, that kind of thing The way of doing business is really despicable. Marshall found out and went to him to settle accounts. He was beaten half to death. The guy didn't dare to appeal for fear of causing trouble. I'll tell you this and you will know what happened." "Then you think it may be," said Poirot, "that Marshall strangled his wife?" "No, I never said anything like that. Just to let you know he gets mad now and then." Poirot said: "Mr. Bratt, for some reason we believe that Mrs. Marshall was on her way to see someone at Leprechaun Bay this morning. Do you have any idea who she might be going to see?" Mr. Blatt blinked and said, "I'm not guessing. I'm sure. I'm going to see Redfon!" "That man is not Mr. Redfern." Mr. Blatt seemed taken aback, and he said hesitantly: "Then I don't know... well, I can't think of..." He regained some of his usual self-confidence, and continued: "I'll start I said it, it can't be me! I'm not so lucky! Come to think of it, it can't be Gardner—his wife keeps an eye on him! Is that old guy Barry? Damn it! It's not likely to be the priest. But, I tell you, I also saw the priest staring at her a lot. He criticized her, but maybe he still had to pay for his eyelids, eh? There are hypocrites in the world. More, most of them, did you see that case last month? The vicar's and the deacon's daughter's affair? It was eye-opening." Mr. Blatt chuckled. Colonel Winston said coldly: "Have you thought of nothing more to help us?" Bratt shook his head. "No, I can't think of anything," he said. "I think there's going to be some excitement. The journalists will come like hot cakes just out of the oven. There won't be much to do at the Paradise Hotel in the future." When you are proud, what is there to say about Paradise?" Hercule Poirot murmured: "Aren't you enjoying yourself here?" Mr Blatt's red face turned even redder than before, and he said: "Well, I'm not happy. It's a nice boat ride out, and the sights, the service and the food - but the people aren't close enough here. , you know what I mean! What I want to say is that my money is as good as other people's money. We are all here to have fun. Then why don't we all come and have fun? Everyone has their own circle In the circle, sitting in a pile by myself, I just say good morning to you coldly—good night—yes, the weather is so nice, it’s not lively at all, it’s all like puppets and dolls.” Mr. Blatt paused Come down—his face is really red now.He wiped his forehead again, and said apologetically, "Don't pay attention to my words, I'm too excited all of a sudden." Hercule Poirot murmured: "What do we think of Mr. Platt?" Colonel Winston grinned: "What do you think of him? You know him much better than I do." Poirot said softly: "You English people have a lot of sayings to describe him. Diamond in the rough! Self-made man! Climbed up in society! Speaking of it, you will think him pitiful, ridiculous, It's disgusting, it depends on what you think, it's completely everyone's opinion. But I also think he has a different face." "Then what is it?" Hercule Poirot murmured, looking up at the ceiling, "I think he's—nervous." Inspector Cogender said: "I have already calculated various times. The ladder from the hotel to Little Devil's Bay takes three minutes. It is to go to a place where people in the hotel can't see you and then run as fast as you can. the time it takes to pass." Winston picked up the coat of arms. He said: "Much faster than I thought." "It takes one minute and forty-five seconds to go down the ladder to the beach, and two minutes to go up. The experimenter is Fu Lingte, who is a bit of an athlete. Calculated according to the speed of ordinary people walking and climbing up and down the ladder, all About fifteen minutes or so." Winston nodded."There's one more thing we have to look into, and that's the pipe," he said. Cogender said, "Blatt smoked a pipe, and so did Marshall, and the clergyman. Redfon smoked cigarettes, the Yankee liked cigars, and Major Barry didn't smoke at all. Marshall had a clear pipe in Marshall's room." There are two pipes in Bratt's room and one in the pastor's room. The maid said Marshall had two pipes, and the other maid was a stupid girl who couldn't figure out how many pipes the other two had. Vaguely said she noticed if they had two or three in their room." Winston nodded. "Anything else?" "I also checked with the hotel staff, and it seems that there is no problem. Henry in the bar confirmed what Marshall said, saying that he had seen him at ten minutes to eleven. William, who was in charge of taking care of the beach, spent most of the morning He doesn't seem to have a problem fixing the ladders on the rocks. George draws the lines on the tennis courts, and he's doing the gardening outside the restaurant, and if someone comes over the embankment and goes to the island, none of them will see." "When will the water on the embankment run out?" "About half past nine." Winston stroked his beard. "It's likely that someone actually came this way. We've made another discovery, Cogand." He told the inspector about finding the sandwich box in the hole. There was a knock on the door. "Come in," said Winston. It was Marshall who came, and he said, "Can you tell me when the funeral can be arranged?" "I think we have an inquest the day after tomorrow, Mr. Marshall." "Thank you." Inspector Cogender said, "I'm sorry, but I'll give you these back." He handed over the three letters. Kenneth Marshall smiled wryly.He said: "Did the police test my typing speed? I hope I can be cleared." Colonel Winston said in a very cheerful tone: "Yes, Mr. Marshall, I think we can issue you a medical certificate. These letters will take at least a full hour to type, and, besides, the maid heard you typing and kept going. It was five minutes to eleven, and twenty minutes later another witness saw you again." Marshall murmured, "Really? That's all very satisfying." "Yes, Miss Dai Li came to your room at 11:20. You were busy typing at that time, so you didn't notice her coming in at all." Gan Yishi Marshall said with a cold expression on his face: "Did Miss Dali say that?" He paused, "Actually she was wrong, I saw her, but she didn't know it, I saw her from the mirror Saw her." Poirot murmured, "But you didn't stop typing?" Marshall said unhappily, "No. I want to finish the letter." He paused, and then asked abruptly, "Is there nothing else I can do for you?" "No, thank you, Mr. Marshall." Gan Yishi Marshall nodded and walked out of the room.Winston said with a sigh: "Then our most promising suspect is gone—cleared. Oh, here comes Niston!" The forensic doctor walked in excitedly and said, "What you sent is really amazing." "what is it then?" "What is it? It's a drug commonly known as 'heroin'." Inspector Cogender whistled, and said, "Now we've got something! At that rate, the whole case may have something to do with the drug."