Chapter 22 Chapter 21 Collecting Clues

"I want to talk to you, Irene," said Miss Bulstrode. Irene Rich followed Miss Bulstrode into the back sitting room.Fangcaodi Girls' School is strangely quiet.About twenty-five students remained at the school.These are the students whose parents didn't take them back because they were struggling or bored.The wave of panic had been contained by her maneuvers as Miss Bulstrode had hoped.There is a general feeling that by next term everything will be clarified.They felt it would be wise for Miss Bulstrode to close the school for the time being. Not a single member of staff has left the school.Miss Johnson is troubled by too much time.There wasn't much going on all day and it didn't suit her at all.Miss Chadwick looked old and distressed, and was sore all over in a mournful mood.She was clearly hit harder than Miss Bulstrode.Indeed, Miss Bulstrode's demeanor remained her usual self-possession, which she evidently had no difficulty in maintaining, showing no sign of nervousness or slump.The two young governesses were not unhappy about the extra leisure.They soaked in the swimming pool, wrote long letters to friends and relatives, and asked for travel advertising materials for research and comparison.install.Shaplan has plenty of time on her hands, and she doesn't hold a grudge against it.She killed a good deal of time in the garden, concentrating on gardening with surprising efficiency.She would rather let Adam teach her how to do it.And not old Briggs teaching her.This may also be a natural thing.

"What's the matter, Miss Bulstrode?" asked Irene Rich. "I've—always wanted to talk to you," said Miss Bulstrode. "I don't know if the school will survive. It's often difficult to estimate how people feel, because everyone feels differently. But it turns out, whoever feels the most will convert everyone else in the end. So it's either Meadows and it's over—" "No," Erin.Richie interjected, "It's not over." She nearly jumped to her feet, and her hair flew down immediately, "You mustn't let it stop, or it would be a crime—a crime."

"You speak firmly," said Miss Bulstrode. "I feel very strongly. There are many things that are not worth a little effort, but the grass is indeed worth the energy. I felt that the grass was worth my energy when I came here." "You're a fighter," said Miss Bulstrode. "I like warriors, and I assure you I don't intend to surrender tamely. In a way, I take pleasure in fighting. You know, If everything is easy,--sailing, people become--I can't think of a word to express exactly what I mean--satisfied? Bored? Maybe both. But I don't feel either Tired and not complacent, I am ready to give it my all and give it my all to fight. This is what I want to say to you now: If Greenfields continues, are you willing to lead on a partnership basis? "

"Me?" Erin Rich stared at her. "Me?" "Yes, dear," said Miss Bulstrode, "you." "I can't," Erin Rich said. "I don't know enough. I'm too young. Oh, I don't have the experience and knowledge you need." "I know what I want, and you can't say it for me," said Miss Bulstrode. "It's not an attractive proposition, mind you, as we talk. You may It could be better done elsewhere. But I'm going to tell you this and you have to believe me. I decided before Miss Vansittart's tragic death that you were all I needed to keep this school going. successor."

"That's what you thought then?" Eileen Rich looked at her intently. "But I thought—we all thought—Miss Vansittart . . . " "No arrangement was made with Miss Vansittart," said Miss Bulstrode. "I had her in my mind, I must confess. I have thought of her for the past two years. But something has always made me hesitate." , haven't talked to her about anything for sure. I bet everyone thought she would be my successor. She probably thought so herself. Until a while ago I thought so myself. Then I decided she wasn't me needed successor."

"But she's the right fit in every way," Erin Rich said. "She'll do exactly what you want and how you think." "Yes," said Miss Bulstrode, "and that's exactly the problem. You can't hang on to the past. A little tradition is good, but not too much. School is for today's children." Yes. It's not for kids who were fifty years ago or even thirty years ago. There are some schools where tradition is more important than others, but The Meadows is not a school like that. It's not a school with a long tradition. .It is the creation of a woman, if I may say so, and that woman is myself. I have experimented with certain ideals, and I have put them into practice to the best of my ability, though the desired effect has not been I also had to revise them when they came out. It's not a conventional school, but it doesn't pride itself on being unconventional. It's a school that tries to make the best of two worlds - the world of the past and the world of the future — but the real emphasis is on the present, and that is a criterion of how it is going to be run and how it should be run. The school should be run by men with ideals—modern ideals. Preserving the virtues of the past, At the same time, look to the future. You are about the same age as I was when I started the school, but you have something that I can no longer have now. You can find such words in the Bible: 'Their old people dream and their Young people have imaginations. We don't need dreams here, we need imaginations'. I believe you have imaginations, and that's why you're the right one, and Eleanor Vansittart is not."

"It was supposed to be good," Erin Rich said. "It was good. It was supposed to be something I really liked." Miss Bulstrode was somewhat surprised by her tone, though she did not show it.Instead she quickly agreed. "Yes," she said, "it would have been fine. But it's not necessarily great now, is it? Well, I understand that." "No, no, I don't mean that at all," said Eileen Rich, "not at all. I—I can't go into details, but if you go—if you go and ask me, in a week or two Tell me that a week ago, and I would have said right away that I couldn't, it just wasn't possible. The only reason why it's—why it's possible now, is because—well, because it's a fight— —to bear the burden. Can I just let me think about it, Miss Bulstrode? I don't know what to say now."

"Of course," said Miss Bulstrode.She was still amazed.You'll never really understand a person, she thought. "Ricky walked by and her hair fell down again," Ann Shaplan said.She was stooping to face the flowerbed when she straightened up. "If she can't hold it in, I can't see why she wouldn't cut it off. Her head is well defined and it would look better with it off." "You should tell her that," Adam said. "We don't have that friendship yet," went on Ann Shaplan. "Do you think this place will last?" "That's a very questionable question," Adam said. "Who am I to judge?"

"I reckon you can talk as well as anybody else," said Ann Shaplan. "How much time has passed since term started--only a month? Seems like a year. I wish term was over." "Will you come if the school continues?" "No," said Ann firmly, "not really. I'm tired of school life, and after so many years of school life, it's enough for a lifetime. In any case, I was not born to be related to a group of women." And, to be honest, I don't like murder. It's fun to read about in the papers, or a good book. Read it before you go to sleep. It's fun, too. But the real thing isn't. Not that interesting." Then Ann said thoughtfully, "I think when I leave here at the end of term, I'll marry Dennis and settle down."

"Dennis?" said Adam. "Is that the one you mentioned to me? As far as I can remember, the nature of his work took him to places like Burma, Malaya, Singapore, Japan. If you If you marry him, you may not be able to settle down at home, right?" An suddenly laughed: "Yes, getting married doesn't necessarily mean you can settle down in a family. In terms of material and geographical sense, you can't." "I think you can find someone better than Dennis," Adam said. "Are you proposing to me?" Ann asked. "Certainly not," said Adam. "You're an ambitious girl, and you wouldn't be happy marrying a humble gardener."

"I was thinking just now whether I should marry someone from the Criminal Investigation Department," An said. "I'm not a criminal investigator," Adam said. "No, of course not," said Ann, "let's keep our conversations nice. You're not in the CID, Shesta isn't kidnapped, and everything in the garden is still lovely and lovely. Let's just say,"—she looked around, Then she went on, "It's all the same." After a while she said, "I don't understand at all about Shesta showing up in Geneva again or whatever. How did she get there? You guys The gang must have been so negligent that they would have her taken out of the country." "I'm tight-lipped," Adam said. "I don't think you will know the most critical of them," Ann said. "I must admit," said Adam, "that we can thank M. Hercule Poirot, who has a good idea." "What, that ridiculous little man who brought Julia back to school to see Miss Bulstrode?" "Yes. He calls himself a consulting detective," said Adam. "I think he's almost an old-fashioned character," Ann said. "I had no idea what he was up to," Adam said. "He even visited my mother—or a friend of his did." "Your mother?" Ann said. "Why?" "I don't know. He seems to have a morbid interest in mothers. He also visited Jennifer's mother." "Did he see Rich's mother? And Chady's mother?" "As far as I know, Miss Rich has no mother," said Adam. "Otherwise, no doubt, he would have gone to see her." "Miss Chadwick has a mother in Cheltenham, she told me," said Ann, "but I think she's in her eighties. Poor Chadwick, she looks fast herself." Eighty. Now she's coming to talk to us." Adam looked up. "Yes," he said, "she's aged a lot in the past week." "Because she really loves this school," Ann said. "The school is her whole life. She can't bear to see it go downhill." Chadwick was indeed ten years older than the day he started school.Her gait had lost that lightness, and instead of running briskly and bustling here and there, she came up to them a little sluggishly. "Go to Miss Bulstrode, please," she said to Adam. "She wants to tell you a little about the garden." "I gotta get myself clean first," Adam said.He put down his tools and walked towards the flower shed. Ann and Miss Chadwick walked together towards the teaching building. "It's quiet around, isn't it?" An Chao looked around and said, "It's like a theater with few audiences." She seemed to be thinking about something, and then said: "It's very clever to keep people at a distance. Walk past the box office. Make them look like spectators." "Terrible," said Miss Chadwick. "Terrible! It's dreadful to think what Meadows has become like. I can't keep my mind off it, and I can't sleep at night. It's all ruined. It's been so many years." Heartbreak, really good things that have been built up over the years are ruined." "It will get better again." Ann said happily, "You know, people are forgetful." "Not so forgetful," said Miss Chadwick coldly. Ann didn't answer.In her heart she agreed with Miss Chadwick. Mademoiselle Blanche came out of the classroom where she was taking French literature. She glanced at her watch.Yes, there is still plenty of time to do what she wants to do.With so few students remaining in school, there is always plenty of time these days. She went upstairs to her room and put on her hat.She's not the type to go out without a hat on.She looked at her own appearance in the mirror and was not very satisfied.Lacking a compelling personality, but that's good for it, she smiled to herself.This made it easy for her to use the certificate of her sister Angelle.Even the passport photo wasn't faulted.It would be a great pity if, after Angèle's death, those excellent papers were discarded.Angelles really enjoys teaching.And for her.Teaching is extremely boring.But the salary is very good.Far more than what she herself was able to earn in the past.And, things went unbelievably smoothly.The future will be very different.Oh yes, quite different.The lifeless Mademoiselle Blanche was about to turn around.She saw this in her imagination.In tourist resorts, she dresses gorgeously.Dress up.To live is to have money.Oh.Yes, it is true that everything will become more satisfactory.It was worth it to come to this hated British school. She picked up her handbag, walked out of the room, and down the corridor.Her eyes fell on a woman kneeling there busy with her work.The new handyman.A detective of course.How simple their minds are, and they still pretend that others don't know!With a disdainful smile on her lips, she walked out of the teaching building and down the driveway to the front door.The bus station is almost opposite.She stood there, waiting.The bus will come soon. There are very few people on this secluded country road.There's a car out there with a man facing the open hood.leaned over.A bicycle leans against a fence.There is a man waiting for the bus too. No doubt one of the three would follow her, subtly and less conspicuously.She was fully aware of the fact, but she didn't care.Welcome her "shadow" to see where she goes and what she does. The bus is coming.She got into the car.A quarter of an hour later, she got off at the main square of the city.She didn't bother to look at who was following her.She crossed the street and came to a large department store with a display of new nightgowns.Crappy stuff, rustic aesthetics, she pouted, thinking so.But she stood watching, as if fascinated. Then she went into the store, bought a small item or two, and went up the second floor into the women's lounge.There was a writing desk, commode chairs, and a telephone booth.She walked into the phone booth, put in coins, dialed the phone number she wanted, and waited to hear if the voice of the answer was correct. She nodded with satisfaction, and then spoke. "This is Blanche's here. Blanche's, do you understand? I have to warn you about a debt owed. You have to pay it by tomorrow evening. To-morrow evening to the Ledbury Street branch of the National Credit Bank in London." Blanche store account, I will tell you the amount now." She said a number. "You have a little over twenty-four hours." She hung up the phone and stepped into the lounge.A woman has just come in from outside.Maybe a customer of the store, maybe not.If it's the latter, it's too late to eavesdrop. Mademoiselle Blanche went to the adjoining toilet to wash up, and then went out into the street again, smiling.She went to a bookstore to browse, and then drove back to Fangcaodi. She smiled as Di stepped up the driveway.She arranges things very well.The amount she wanted was not too large, and it was not impossible to raise it in a short time after receiving the notice.It's nice to have that kind of money on hand to spend.Because, of course, you can ask for payment from the other party in the future... Yes, that would be a not too bad source of income.She has a clear conscience. She gave no thought to her duty to report to the police what she knew and saw.That Springer was a loathsome woman, rude, ill-bred, and meddling in other people's business.Well, she deserved it. Mademoiselle Blanche stood for a while by the pool.She watched Eileen Rich dive.Ann Shaplan climbed out of the pool and jumped in too--and she jumped well too.The girls laughed and screamed. the bell rang.Miss Blanche went in for her third grade class.The student was absent-minded and listless, but Mademoiselle Blanche hardly noticed.She will soon be out of teaching for good. She went back to her room to freshen up and get ready for dinner.She saw vaguely, without really noticing, that, contrary to her usual practice, she had dropped a coat she had worn in the garden on a chair in the corner of the room instead of hanging it as usual. Leaning forward, she examined her own face in the mirror.She powdered and put on lipstick. One movement was so quick that she was totally unexpected.This action is silent, completely expert behavior!The coat on the chair seemed to gather itself and fell to the floor.For a moment a hand holding a sandbag stretched out behind Mademoiselle Blanche's back.Before she could open her mouth to shout, the sandbag hit her on the back of the head with a muffled sound.

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