Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

Genia and Anthony walked down the path leading to the lake side by side. After they left the building, there was silence for several minutes.Finally, Virginia giggled and broke the silence. "Ah," she said, "isn't it bad? I have a lot to tell you and want to know a lot, but I just don't know where to start? First," she lowered her voice. — "What did you do with the body? It sounds terrible, doesn't it? I never dreamed it would be so sinful." "I think, on your side, it must be a very novel feeling." Anthony agreed. "Do not you think so?"

"This—I really haven't disposed of a corpse before." "How to deal with it, tell me." Anthony told her briefly what had happened the night before.Virginia listened attentively. "I think you've done a very clever job," she said appreciatively when he had finished. "I'll get the trunk out when I get back to Paddington Station. The only hard thing is, what do you do if you have to tell me where you were last night?" "I don't think there's any chance of that. The body won't be found until late last night--maybe this morning. Otherwise it'll be in the papers this morning. And , no matter what you may imagine after reading a detective novel, physicians are not magicians and they cannot tell how long a person has been dead. Exactly when the person died will be obscured. So, come up with an alibi from last night It will appear to be much more past."

"I know. The Marquess of Judham told me all about it. But that man from the Ministry of Justice is now completely convinced of your innocence? Isn't he?" Anthony didn't answer right away. "He doesn't look particularly alert," Virginia went on. "I don't know that," Anthony said slowly. "I have the impression that he's the kind of guy who won't be fooled. He seems to believe I'm innocent—but I'm not sure. So far, he can't find any obvious motive for killing me. This time It stumped him." "Obviously?" Virginia called. "But what possible reason would you have for assassinating a foreign earl whom you don't know?"

Anthony gave her a wary look. "You've been to Hezoslav once in the past, haven't you?" "Yes. My husband and I spent two years at the British Embassy there." "That was before the assassination of the king and his wife. Have you seen Prince Michael Oborovich?" "Of course Michael did. Poor! I remember, he advised me to marry him regardless of the disparity between the royal family and the common people." "Is he really like this? Then, you have a husband, and he says what should you do?" "Ah, he already has a plan for Dawei to deal with Shenlia."

"So, what was your reaction to his proposal?" "This..." said Virginia. "Unfortunately. One has to be diplomatic. So poor Michael didn't receive a straight-up refusal from me. Still, he backed away very sadly. Why are you so interested in Michael?" "This is my usual habit of finding clues by accident. I gradually discovered one thing: You probably didn't meet the victim, did you?" "Yes. If it's like the description in the book, you can say: 'Go back to your room to rest when you arrive'." "Then, of course you didn't see the body?"

Virginia watched him amusedly, shaking her head. "Do you think you can see the dead body?" "Using my connection with the superiors—I mean the Lord Judham—I think it's possible. Why? Is it an order?" "Oh, no," said Anthony, surprised. "Would I be that bossy? No, just because of this: Count Stanislaw was cast in disguise by Prince Michael of Herzoslav." Virginia's eyes opened wide. "I see." Suddenly, a charming smile appeared on her face with only one side. "I hope you're not implying that Michael went to his room to avoid seeing me?"

"That's what I was thinking," Anthony admitted. "You know what? I thought someone was trying to keep you from coming to Chimney House. If I'm right, the reason seems to be that you knew about Herzoslav. Did you know that you were the only one here Someone that Prince Michael can recognize?" "You mean the man who was killed was an impostor?" Virginia said suddenly. "That's a possibility that came to my mind by accident. If you can ask Marquis Jadhan to take you to see the corpse, we can clarify this immediately." "He was killed at eleven forty-five," said Virginia thoughtfully.

"That's the time mentioned on that note. It's totally unbelievable." "So I remembered. Is that up there your window? I mean over the council chamber, second from the other end?" "No. My room is in the Elizabeth wing, on the other side. Why?" "Just because, last night when I thought I heard gunshots and walked away, the lights in that room suddenly went on." "How strange! I don't know who lives in that room, but I'll find out by asking Bundo. Maybe they heard a gunshot?" "If so, they haven't come forward to say so. I've heard a lot that no one in the building heard the shots. That's the only lead I've got on the subject. It's probably a very weak lead. But , whether it is reliable or not, I will pursue it to the end."

"It's weird, really," Virginia said thoughtfully. Now, they come to the boathouse where the yacht is parked by the lake.The two leaned against the wall of the boathouse to talk. "Now tell me the whole story," said Anthony. "We roll over to the lake. The Department of Criminal Affairs, the American guests, and the curious maid are all out of hearing." "I heard something from Lord Judham," said Virginia. "But that's not enough. First, tell me, who are you really? Anthony Cade? Or Jimmy McGrath?" For the second time that morning, Anthony revealed how his past six weeks had unfolded—with one difference: What he had said to Virginia needed no adaptation.

He finally ended with his accidental recognition of "Mr. Holmes". "By the way, Mrs. Redford," he said at last. "You said that I was your old friend at the risk of your life, and I haven't thanked you yet." "Of course you're an old friend!" cried Virginia. "You don't want me to hand over a lumbering corpse to your disposal and pretend you're just acquaintances the next time we see you? No, not really." She pauses. "You know what? There's one thing about this that I find weird," she went on. "Those inscrutable memoirs are extra incredible when I think about them now."

"I thought you were right," Anthony agreed. "There is one thing I want you to tell me." "What's that?" "Why did you seem surprised when I mentioned Jimmy McGrath's name in Bond Street yesterday? Have you heard that name before?" "I have heard that Holmes George--my cousin George Lomax--came to me the other day and suggested to me many very silly things. What he meant was for me to come here and try to cater to The man's mind, bewitching him like Delilah's, managed to trick him into getting the memoirs in his hands. Of course, he didn't say it so obviously, he talked a lot of nonsense about the famous English ladies. But his real Meaning, I always understood. That was one of those bad ideas that old George always had. Later, I wanted to know too much. He tried to falter me with many lies. In fact, he said that even a child Can't be fooled." "Well. Anyway, his plan seems to have succeeded," Anthony said. "Look at me—that's his James McGrath, and you? Aren't you trying to please me now?" "But, alas, poor George, no memoirs! Now I have a question for you: when I told you I didn't write those letters, you said you knew. I didn't—you can't know such a thing." ?” "Oh, maybe, I can know." Anthony said with a broad smile. "I have a very rich and practical knowledge of psychology." "You mean, you mean, you have so much confidence in my integrity that..." Anthony, however, was shaking his head desperately. "Not at all. I don't know about your character and about you. You may have a lover; you may write to him. But you will never be blackmailed. But Virgie who writes love Nia Rifford was petrified. You fought your way." "Not sure who the real Virginia Rivers is—I mean, where she is. It makes me feel like I have an indistinguishable double somewhere." Anthony lit a cigarette. "Did you know that one of them was written at Chimney House?" he asked at last. "What?" Virginia was clearly taken aback. "When was it written?" "There's no date on the letter. But it's a strange thing, isn't it?" "I'm sure there hasn't been another Virginia Redford as a guest at Chimney House. If so, the Marquess of Judham or Bundo will definitely talk to me about the coincidence of this name. " "Yes. There's something strange about it. You know, Mrs. Redford, I'm growing very suspicious of this other Virginia Redford." "She's very unpredictable," agreed Virginia. "Extraordinarily elusive. I'm slowly getting the idea that whoever wrote those letters used your name on purpose." "But why?" said Virginia aloud. "Why would they do such a thing. "Ah, that's exactly the problem to be solved. There's too much to investigate in what's going on here right now." "Who do you think can be killed?" Virginia asked suddenly. "A comrade from the Red Hand Party?" "I think they might," Anthony said, dissatisfied in his tone. "Senseless killing is probably their characteristic." "Now, let's investigate," Virginia said. "Now I see Lord Judham and Bundo walking there. The first thing we have to do is to find out for sure whether the dead man is Michael." Anthony rolled the boat to the shore.In a few minutes they were with Lord Judham and his lady. "It's late for lunch," said Monseigneur despondently. "I think it's probably the inspector who polluted the chef?" "It's a friend of mine, Bundo," Virginia said. "You have to treat him well." Bundo looked at Anthony eagerly for a few minutes, then spoke to Virginia as if he were not there. "Where did you find these handsome men, Virginia? How did you find them?" she said enviously. "I can give him to you," said Virginia generously. "I want Lord Judham." She smiled at the flattered Marquis, and took his arm.The two of them left together. "Can you talk?" asked the boat. "Or just being so strong and silent?" "Talk?" Anthony said. "I can babble, I can bite, I can murmur - endlessly, like the flow of water between Australia and China. Sometimes, I also ask questions. "For example, what are you asking?" "Who lives in the second room from the top on the left?" He pointed to the room as he spoke. "What a special question!" said Bundo. "You're a funny man. Let's see—yes—that's Miss Prynne's room. The French governess. She's trying to discipline my sister. Desi and Daisy—you know, like the one in that song Like the lyrics. I think if they had another baby, they would call her Delosi May. But the mother died because she kept having girls. She thought maybe there would be someone else to remember. The father has given birth to an heir." "Miss Prynne," said Anthony thoughtfully. "How long has she been with you?" "Two months. She came when we came to Scotland." "Ha!" said Anthony. "I smell something suspicious." "I wish I could smell lunch," Bundo said. "Should I have someone from the Department of Criminal Affairs come to lunch with us, Mr. Cade? You're a worldly man, and you know the etiquette in this kind of thing. We've never had a murder in our family before. Exciting, isn't it? What a pity." , your reputation has been completely cleared this morning. I've always wanted to see a murderer with my own eyes, to see if he was as talented and as handsome as the special issue of the Sunday paper said.Oops, what is that? " It seemed to be a taxi, coming towards the building.The two people inside were a tall man with a bald head and a black beard, and a smaller, younger man with a mustache.Anthony recognized who the former was.He thought that it was the man who caused his companion to scream, not the car he was in. "Unless I'm wildly mistaken," said he, "that's my old friend, Lord Lollypapp." "What Baron?" "I call him Lolly Papp for convenience. It's easy to stiffen one's veins to spell his long name." "The phone was almost broken this morning," said Chuan Duo. "It's the Baron, isn't it? I can imagine they wanted him near me this afternoon--I've been dealing with Ershastan all morning. Let George do his dirty work, I say, politics, fuck him Cade, I'm sorry I can't be with you. I've got to serve my poor old papa." Bundo quickly returned to the mansion. Anthony stared at her back for a few minutes, then lit a cigarette thoughtfully.As he did so, he suddenly heard a furtive sound coming from very close to him.He was standing by the boathouse at this moment.The voice seemed to be coming from the corner of the room.He imagined the sound of a person trying to hold back a sneeze and finally couldn't help it. "Don't know--don't know who's behind the boathouse? I'll have to see." Anthony thought. "I thought, better go and see." Think about it.He threw away the match that had just blown out, and ran softly and silently to the back of the house. He suddenly found a person.The man had obviously been kneeling on the ground, and was just now struggling to get up.He is tall, wears a light coat and glasses.The rest of the traits are a short, pointed black beard, and a somewhat flashy attitude.He was between thirty and forty, and on the whole looked respectable. "What are you doing here?" Anthony asked. He was sure that the man must not be a guest of the Marquis of Judhan. "Excuse me," said the stranger.His words had an obvious foreign accent, and he originally wanted to show a moving smile, but now he smiled wryly. "Because I'm trying to get back to the Happy Cricketer's Inn and I'm lost. Can you tell me the way, sir?" "Of course," Anthony said. "But, you know, you can't get to that place by water." "Why?" said the stranger, with an air of one's bewilderment. "I said so," repeated Anthony, looking intently toward the boathouse. "You can't get to that place by water. There's a road over there that goes through the garden. That's the way outsiders have the right to go--it's a ways off.However, this is all private property.You are now trespassing on private land. " "I'm sorry," said the stranger. "I'm completely lost. I thought I could come here and ask for directions." Anthony held back and didn't point it out. Kneeling behind the boathouse and trying to ask for directions, it might seem strange.He eagerly took the stranger's arm."You're going this way," he said. "Walk all the way around the lake - you can't miss that road. When you get to that road, turn left and that road leads into the village. I think you live in Happy Cricketer Inn?" "Yes, sir. I moved in this morning. Thank you for your kindness in showing me the way." "You're welcome," Anthony said. "I hope you haven't caught a cold." "What?" said the stranger. "I mean, kneeling on that wet ground," Anthony explained. "I thought I heard you sneeze." "I may have sneezed," the man admitted. "Good," Anthony said. "But, you know? When you're about to sneeze, you shouldn't hold back. A very respectable physician said something like that the other day. It's very dangerous. I don't remember him actually saying that." What harm does it do to people—does it depress the central nervous system? Or harden the blood vessels, anyway, you must never do it. Goodbye!" "Goodbye, and thank you, sir, for showing me the right way." "This is the second suspicious stranger from the village," thought Anthony, watching the man's disappearing figure. "Moreover, it's also someone I'm not sure about. He looks like a French businessman traveling abroad. I don't think he looks like a comrade of the Red Hand Party. Could it be that he represents the third party of the troubled Hezoslavia?" The French governess lives in the second room from the end. And now a mysterious Frenchman is found skulking around the place, trying to hear what he shouldn't. I bet there must be There are articles." Anthony thought silently and walked back to the mansion.He met Marquis Zi Shihan in the corridor with a gloomy look on his face.There were also two new guests.He saw Anthony make a slight smile. "Ah, here you are," he said. "Let me introduce you to the - . The baron watched Antony with growing suspicion. "Mr. Cade?" he said stiffly, "I suppose not?" "I have a word with you, Baron," said Anthony. "I can explain everything." The baron bowed deeply, and the two of them walked down the corridor together. "Baron," said Anthony. "I must beg your forgiveness for having, up to now, endangering the honor of an Englishman, and coming to this country under a false name. I met you as Mr. James McGrath--but you yourself It should be understood that the deceit involved in this matter is trivial. You must be familiar with Shakespeare and his statement that the name of the rose is not important? The situation is exactly the same. The person you wanted to see is the one who has The man of the memoirs. I was that man. But the memoirs are no longer in my possession. You know that well. It is a clever trick, Baron, a very clever trick indeed. Who is it? Thinking of it? You? Or your master?" "This is His Highness's own idea. Moreover, he will never allow others to carry out his plan." "He did a great job," Anthony said approvingly. "I always thought of him as British." "The prince was taught by an English teacher. This is the custom in Hezoslav," explained the baron. "The way he stole that manuscript was nothing more than a professional habit of stealing," Anthony said. "There is no one else now, may I ask, how are those manuscripts now?" "A gentleman should not tell anyone about himself," began the baron. "You are too kind, Baron," cooed Anthony. "In my whole life, only in the last forty-eight hours have I often been called a gentleman." "I can tell you this—I think that thing has been burned." "You just think, but, you don't know for sure, do you? Am I right?" "His Highness has kept it for himself. His purpose is to burn it after seeing it." "I understand." Anthony said. "However, that manuscript is not an easy text, and it is impossible to read it quickly in half an hour." "In the relics of my master who died for the country, no manuscript was found. Therefore, it has obviously been burned." "Yeah!" Anthony said. "I don't know if that's the case." He was silent for a while, then continued. "I am asking you these questions, Baron, because I myself have been implicated in the murder. You may have heard of that. I must absolutely prove my innocence so that no one can suspect me." "No doubt," said the baron. "For your honor, it must be so." "Exactly," Anthony said. "It's really good of you to say that. I don't have that ability.Now go on.The only way I can clean myself up is to find the real murderer.To do this, I must know all the facts.The question of this manuscript is very important.I thought that obtaining this manuscript seemed to be the murderer's motive for committing the crime.Baron tell me, is that a far-fetched idea? " The Baron hesitated for a moment. "The manuscript, have you read it yourself?" He finally asked carefully. "I think I've got the answer," Anthony said, smiling broadly. "Now, Baron, there is only one other matter now. I should give you a plain warning: I still intend to send the manuscript to the publisher next Wednesday, October thirteenth." The baron looked at him intently. "But the manuscript is not in your hands." "I said 'next Wednesday.' It's Friday. So I've got five more days to get that manuscript." "But what if it's already burned?" "I don't think it burned. I have good reason not to think it did." As they talked, they had already turned a corner at the end of the corridor, and only a tall man was walking towards them.Anthony had never seen the tall Mr. Herman Ershastein, so he regarded him with considerable attention. "Ah, Baron," said Eshastein, waving a cigar he was smoking. "It's a bad thing—bad." "My old friend, Monsieur Ershastein, is indeed terrible!" said the baron. "Our stately mansion is now in ruins." Anthony cleverly took advantage of this to get away, let them talk about it with emotion, and he turned and walked back in the corridor. Suddenly, he stopped.He saw a wisp of smoke spiraling up from below.It obviously came out from the middle of the yew pine fence. "There must be a clearing among those trees," thought Anthony. "I've heard things like this before." He looked around quickly.Lord Judham and Captain Andersey were at the other end of the corridor.They had their backs to him.Anthony bent down and slipped between the yews. He was right.That yew fence was actually not one, but two, separated by a narrow path in the middle.The entrance is about halfway up, on the side of the house.This is no mystery.But no one looking at the yew fence from the front would have guessed that there might be a path. Anthony looked down the narrow path among the trees.About halfway there, a man was lying on a wicker chair.A half-smoked cigar lay on the arm of the chair.The gentleman had obviously dreamed about the Duke of Zhou. "Ah!" thought Anthony. "It goes without saying that Mr Hirham Fisher liked to sit in the shade."