Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty Seven

The council clock struck nine. "Ah!" said Lord Judham with a deep sigh. "They've all come here, just like the girl in the nursery rhyme, Bao Bippu's flock, wagging their tails behind her, and coming back again." He looked around the room sadly. "Street organists and monkeys, all together," he murmured, keeping his eyes on the Baron. "The nosy park owner of Helm Street, London—" "I think you are being too unkind to the Baron," Bundo protested.The Marquis was complaining frankly to her. "He told me he thought you were a typical example of hospitality among the English nobility."

"I think so," said Lord Judham. "He's always saying stuff like that. It's going to be tiring for him to talk like that. But I can tell you I'm not the hospitable English aristocrat I used to be. I'm going to sell Chimney House to an American entrepreneur as soon as possible, Then go to a hotel. Live there, and if anyone bothers you, you just ask the counter for the bill and move out." "Be happy." Bundo said. "It seems we'll never see Mr. Fish." "I've always found him very interesting," said Lord Judham.He has a bad temper now and is always argumentative. "It was your dear young friend who persuaded me to do such a thing. Why should I let them hold a board of directors in my house? Why doesn't he rent Larch House, Homehurst House, or a house in Stretham How about a company meeting in such a nice villa?"

"The atmosphere is not right." Banduo said. "I hope no one is joking with me," said her father nervously. "I don't trust that Frenchman, Lemon. The French police will do anything. They'll put rubber bands on your arms, and they'll speculate about the crime, and it will startle you. The thermometer reads Clearly. My temperature may be 122 degrees according to the indication on the thermometer, or other scary degrees. So, they will drag me away immediately and put me in jail." The door opened, Zhuo Dewei announced the name of the visitor: "Mr George Lomax, Mr Eversley."

"Kordes enters the field, followed by his faithful lackeys," said Bando in a low voice. Bill kept running towards Bundo. At the same time, George greeted the Marquis of Judhan very cordially. He always put on such a gesture in public. "My dear Judham," said George, shaking his hand. "I received your letter, of course I came here." "Very thoughtful, my dear friend, very thoughtful. I am so glad to see you." Lord Judham's fear of faux pas always drove him to overdo it.In fact, he didn't think he was doing the right thing. "I didn't come because I believed you, but it doesn't matter at all."

Meanwhile, Bill was talking to Bundo in a low voice. "Oh, what's the matter? I heard Virginia went away suddenly in the middle of the night. What's the matter? She wasn't kidnapped, did she?" "Ah, no!" said Bundo, "she left a note and pinned it to the pin-cushion in the traditional way." "She didn't go with anybody, did she? Not with that American Colonial John? I don't like capitulation at all. I've heard it seems to be rumored that he's the master crook himself. But I don't quite see how." it is true." "Why not?"

"This—King Victor is a Frenchman, and Cade is a very Englishman." "King Victor was gifted with languages, and, nevertheless, he was half-Irish. You didn't hear that, did you?" "Dear! Is that why he never shows up, then?" "I don't know about his disappearance. You know, he disappeared yesterday afternoon. But we got a telegram from him this morning saying he was coming here at nine o'clock tonight and suggesting that Ke Des is here. These other guys are here too—Cade sent him." "It's a big party," Bill said, looking around. "A French detective sits by the window. A British replica sits by the fire. Heavy foreign. The Stars and Stripes doesn't seem to be represented, does it?"

Bando shook his head. "Mr. Fish is gone. Virginia's not here. But everyone else is here. I'm sure, Bill, we're not far from that time. By then, Someone would say, 'It's James, the janitor!' So it all fell into place. We're just waiting for Cade to come back." "He's never going to show up," Bill said. "So why this 'company meeting'? That's what my father named it." "Ah, there's a deep meaning behind it. He wants us all here, no doubt, and he's somewhere else—you know the tricks of the sort." "Then you think he won't come?"

"No. Will he commit suicide? This chamber is full of detectives and senior officials." "If you think that makes him afraid to come, then you don't know much about King Victor. They say it's his favorite tense scene. And he always gets his way." Eversley shook his head in disbelief. "It's like being in a casino. The dice are leaden. It takes a lot of work to win in this doomed game. He can't--" The door opened again.Zhuo Dewei announced the name of the visitor. "Mr. Cade." Anthony went straight to his master. "Lord Judham," he said. "I am very sorry that I have caused Your Excellency much trouble. But I do think that tonight the unthinkable will come to light."

The Marquis of Jadham seemed very relieved.He had always secretly felt that he liked Anthony. "No trouble at all," he said earnestly. "You're so kind," Anthony said. "Now I can see that it's all coming. Well, I can go ahead and get this good thing done. " "I don't understand," said George Lomax gravely. "I don't understand at all. It's all very abnormal. Mr. Cade has no status, no status whatsoever. This is a difficult and delicate situation. I urge strongly..." George's eloquence stopped suddenly.The combat inspector walked up to the big man politely and whispered in his ear for a while.George suddenly looked confused and frustrated.

"It's all right if you say so," he said reluctantly.Then, he added a word loudly. "I'm sure we're all well-informed." Anthony ignored the other party's tone of contempt for him. "It's just my little idea, nothing else." He said excitedly. "As you probably know, we found a coded note the other day. It mentioned Richmond, and some numbers," he paused. "We speculated, then, but we found nothing. Now, in the memoirs of the late Earl Stiptitch (which, as it happens, I have read) there is a reference to a feast—a 'Hundred Flowers' 'Banquet. All who attended wore a badge with a flower on it. The count himself wore the strange pattern we found in the hole in the wall of the secret passage. There was a rose painted on it. If you remember, there It's all rows and rows of things—buttons, the letter E, and finally, rows and rows of knitting. Now, come to think of it, what rows and rows does this building have? Books .Is it not? Not only that, but in the catalog card in Lord Judham's library there is a book titled 'The Earl of Richmond'. Then, you can have a clear idea of ​​​​where the jewels are hidden. I think, from the above mentioned Start with the book you got, and use those numbers that refer to shelves and books, and you'll find—oh, what we're looking for is hidden in a fake book, that is, in a hole in the back of a certain book.

Anthony looked around modestly, obviously waiting for applause. "Oh, I didn't expect that! It's very clever!" said the Marquis of Judham. "Clever," admitted George condescendingly, "but the truth remains to be proven." Anthony laughed. "'Talk is worse than experiment'—is that right? Well, I'll prove it to you shortly." He jumped up. "I'm going to the study now—" He can't go any further.Because Mr. Lemon came from the window. "Wait a minute, Mr. Cade. Lord Judham, will you allow me?" He walked to the desk and scribbled a few words, then sealed it in an envelope, and then rang the bell.Zhuo Dewei responded.Lemon handed him the letter. "Please send it immediately." "Yes, sir." Zhuo Dewei said. He stepped back with his usual solemn step. Anthony had been standing there, hesitated, and sat down again. "What's your idea, Lemon?" he asked gently. There was a sudden tense atmosphere in the room. "If the jewelry is where you say it is--well, it has been there anyway, more than seven years--it doesn't matter a quarter of an hour later." "Go on," Anthony said. "What you want to say is more than that." "Yes, more than that. At this point, it would be ill-advised to let anyone out of this room—well—especially if that person has had rather questionable behavior in the past." Anthony raised his eyebrows and lit a cigarette. "I suppose a vagabond life is not very respectable," he mused. "Mr. Cade, you were in South Africa two months ago. You admitted that. Where were you before that?" Anthony leaned back in his chair, leisurely blowing smoke rings. "Canada, the Wild Northwest." "Have you never been in prison? A French cell?" The Combat Inspector automatically moved closer to the door, as if to block the escape route.But Anthony showed no signs of some spectacular action. Instead he stared at the French detective and laughed. "My poor Lemon, it's your paranoia! You do see King Victor everywhere. So imagine that I'm the conspicuous figure." "Do you deny it?" Anthony brushed the cigarette ashes off his sleeve. "I never deny what I find interesting," he said lightly. "However, this charge is too ridiculous." "Oh, do you think so?" The Frenchman leaned forward.His face twitched sadly, and, moreover, he seemed confused, frustrated—something in Anthony's manner puzzled him. "What would you do if I told you, sir, that this time—I'm out to catch King Victor. Nothing can stop me?" "Very admirable." That was Anthony's opinion. "You've come out to arrest him before, haven't you, Lemon? Besides, he's as good as you. Aren't you afraid that something like that will happen again?Everyone knows that he is an elusive person! " The conversation had turned into a war of words between the French detective and Anthony.Everyone else in the room felt the tense atmosphere.The French detective, very earnest, worked very hard; the man who smoked with poise, appeared to be at ease and untroubled.This is a battle between the two to the end. "Lemon, if I were you," went on Anthony, "I'd be very careful. Be careful what you do." "This time," said Lemon grimly, "there will be no mistakes." "You seem sure," Anthony said. "But, you have to know, there is one more thing that is very important, for example, the evidence." Lemon smiled.There was something about his smile that caught Anthony's attention.He sat up straight and stubbed out his cigarette. "Did you see the note I wrote just now?" said the French detective. "It was written for my subordinates who were stationed at the hotel. I received King Victor's fingerprint card and Bedillon's body measurements from France yesterday." Watch. King Victor is what everyone calls Captain O'Neill. That's what I asked them to send, and in a few minutes we'll find out if you're that man." Anthony stared at him intently.Then, a smile appeared on his face. "You're pretty smart, Lemon. I never thought of that. The papers would be sent here. You'd have me fingerprinted, or something equally embarrassing. You'll measure my ears, look for my distinguishing features, and if it all fits the papers..." "Yeah, if everything fits—how? " Anthony sat there, leaning forward. "Then what?" the detective seemed taken aback. "However, at that time I proved that you are King Victor!" But, imperceptibly, for the first time his attitude seemed unstable. "You'll be satisfied, no doubt," Anthony said. "But I don't quite see where I'm going to be hurt. I'm not admitting that I'm King Victor. But, just for the sake of argument, if I admit it's him—I might want to repent, too, you want Know." "Regret?" "That's what it means. Suppose you want to be King Victor, Lemon. Use your imagination.Let's say you just got out of prison.You're about to get on with being human.You no longer have the freshness you felt when you first ventured out.For example, at this time you even meet a beautiful girl.You think of getting married and settling down somewhere in the country where you can grow something for a living.You have decided to live a life of self-discipline and blamelessness from now on.Put yourself in the place of King Victor, can't you feel like that? " "I don't think I'll feel like that," Lemon said sarcastically. "Maybe you won't," Anthony admitted. "But you're not King Victor, are you? You can't possibly know how he feels." "But your words are all nonsense." "Oh, no, it's not nonsense at all. Think about it, Lemon, if I were King Victor, what crimes would you charge me with? Remember, you can never find evidence of crimes that were committed so long ago. I have sat Jail. That's enough. I think you might be able to arrest me by finding the equivalent of 'loitering with criminal intent' under French law.But that still doesn't satisfy you, does it? " "You forgot," Lemon said. "America! If you pretend to be His Royal Highness Nikolai Oborovitch and get a sum of money, what about you?" "It's no use, Lemon," said Anthony. "At that time, I was not anywhere near the United States at all. And I can prove it without too much trouble. If King Victor was pretending to be His Highness Nicholas in America, then I was not King Victor. You Can you be sure that he is someone else pretending to be? Can you be sure that it is not him?" The Inspector General of Combat now interjected. "Yes, Mr. Cade, that man is a liar." "Inspector General, I will not sing against you. You have developed such a good habit that what you say is always correct. Do you also believe that His Royal Highness Nicholas died in the Congo?" The Chief Inspector of Combat looked at him curiously. "Then I cannot conclude, sir." "What a prudent man. What's your motto? 'Know it's wrong, let it go, and you'll pay for it.' I stole a copy from your motto, and I tried to make Mr. Lemon say what he liked." Just sayin', I'm not denying his accusations. But I'm afraid he'll be disappointed anyway. Do you understand? I always have a plan in my pocket. I've expected some unpleasant things to happen here, so I'm just going to Bring an ace. This thing—more correctly, this man—he's upstairs." "Upstairs?" said Lord Judham, interested. "Yes, he's been in a tough place lately. Poor! Got his head swollen, badly. I've been taking care of him." Mr. Ershastein interrupted suddenly, in a deep voice. "Can we guess who it is?" "As you wish," said Anthony, "but..." Lemon interrupted him suddenly and fiercely. "That's all nonsense! You think you're smarter than me again. You might be right about what you say--that's when you say you're not in America. You're too smart to say that if it wasn't true. .But there was another thing. Murder! Yes, murder! The murder of Prince Michael. He got in your way that night when you were looking for that jewel." "Lemon, have you heard that King Victor murdered people?" Anthony's words were very sharp. "You know--better than I do, that he never kills." "Who else could have killed him but you?" cried Lemon. "Tell me this!" He had just finished speaking when a sharp whistle sounded from the corridor outside. Anthony jumped up.Now he couldn't care less about pretending that nothing had happened. "Are you asking me who killed Prince Michael?" he cried. "I won't tell you. I'll show you. That whistle was the signal I've been waiting for. Michael's killer is in the library right now." He jumped out of the window.The others followed him.Let him lead the way, around the corridor, until you come to the window of the library.He pushed the window and it opened. Gently he pulled the heavy curtain aside so they could see inside. There was a black figure standing in front of the bookcase, quickly pulling out the books one by one and putting them back, because he was so engrossed in doing so that he didn't notice the noise outside. The man's profile could only be vaguely seen in the light of the flashlight he brought.While they were standing there watching, trying to figure out what it was like, suddenly a person jumped past them, and at the same time let out a roar like a wild animal. The flashlight fell to the ground and went out.Then, the room was filled with a terrible sound of fighting.Lord Judhan fumbled to release the switch, and finally turned on the light. The two were waddling and writhing.When they saw it, it was all over. There was a short pistol shot, and then the smaller man buckled and fell to the ground.The other man turned to face them.It was Boris.His eyes gleamed with anger. "She killed my master," he growled, "and now she's trying to kill me. I could have taken her pistol and killed her, but it went off while we were fighting. Saint Michael instructed. The wicked woman is dead." "A woman?" said George Lomax aloud. When they came nearer, Miss Prynne lay on the floor with the pistol still in her hand, with a terrible, malevolent expression on her face.