Chapter 17 second quarter

After leaving the kitchen, we went to Elsie Holland, who was helping the children with their homework. Elsie Holland stood up, as capable and humble as ever, and said, "Now, Colin, you and Brian will work out the answers to these three questions, and I'll be back in a moment." She took us into the night nursery. "Is it okay here? I think it's best not to talk about such things in front of children." "Thank you, Miss Holland. Please tell me again, are you 'absolutely' sure that Agnes never mentioned to you what was on her mind—I mean after Mrs Symington died."

"No, she never talked to me about anything. She was a very quiet girl, you know, and never spoke much." "Then, it's completely different from the other one!" "Yes, Rose keeps talking with that mouth, and sometimes I want to tell her not to be so reckless." "She, can you tell me what happened yesterday afternoon? Tell me everything you can remember." "Okay, we had lunch as usual, it was one o'clock, and we ate a little fast because I didn't let the kids waste time. I'll think about it, Mr Symmington goes back to the office, and I help Agnes set the The dinner table—the children go to the garden to play first, and I will take them out after I tidy up."

"Where are you going?" "To Camberice, along the ridge—the boys wanted to fish, but I forgot to bring the bait, so I went back to get it." "What time was it?" "Let's think about it. We went out at about 2:40. Meghan thought about it, but then changed her mind temporarily. She planned to go for a ride by bicycle. She is a bicycle fan." "I mean, what time did you come home to get the bait? Did you go into the back room?" "No, I left the bait behind the greenhouse. I don't know what time it was--maybe ten minutes to three."

"Did you see Meghan or Agnes?" "Megan has probably gone out, and I haven't seen Agnes either." "You're going fishing next?" "Yes, we fished along the river, but we didn't catch anything. Actually we almost never fished, but the two boys just loved it. Brian got very wet, so I was busy when I got home." to change his clothes." "You also have afternoon tea together on Wednesday?" "Yes, the tea is prepared for Mr. Symmington and placed in the living room. The children and I drink afternoon tea in the classroom, and Megan is of course with us. My tea sets and the like are placed in the small cabinet in the classroom inside."

"What time did you come back?" "At ten minutes to five, I took the two boys downstairs to prepare afternoon tea. After Mr. Symmington came back at five o'clock, I went downstairs to prepare for him, but he said he wanted to drink with us in the classroom. The kid couldn't have been happier. After tea we played a little more. It's horrific looking back on it now - we were having fun drinking tea and playing games upstairs and the poor girl died downstairs in the cupboard inside!" "Usually, does anyone go to that cabinet?" "Oh, no, there's just some rubbish in there. Hats and coats are hanging in the cloakroom on the right-hand side as soon as you enter the door. I'm afraid no one will touch that cabinet for months."

"I see. Didn't you notice anything wrong when you came back?" Her blue eyes opened wide and said, "Oh, no, Inspector, nothing at all, everything is exactly as it always was, and that's why I feel so dreadful." "What about last week?" "You mean Mrs. Symmington—" "yes." "Oh, dreadful--dreadful." "Yes, yes, I know. You were away all afternoon that day too?" "Yes, if the weather is nice, I usually take the two boys out in the afternoon and do my homework at home in the morning. I remember that day we went out to the clearing - it was a long way. When I came back to the gate, I saw Symington Mr. has come back from the direction of the office, and he thought he was late because I hadn't heated the teapot, but it was only four fifty at that time."

"You didn't go up to Mrs Symmington?" "Oh, no, I never see her at this time, she rests after lunch, she has neuralgia, and often attacks after meals, Dr. Griffey prescribed some powder for her, and she lay in bed after taking medicine, Hope to sleep." Nash asked naturally: "Then no one will take the letter upstairs to her?" "Mail in the afternoon? Well, I'll check the mailbox and put the letter on the living room table when I come in, but Mrs Symington often comes downstairs to get the letter by herself. She doesn't sleep all afternoon, usually by four o'clock." Woke up."

"She didn't get up that afternoon, don't you think there's something wrong?" "Oh no, it never occurred to me what was going to happen. When Mr Symington was hanging his coat in the drawing room, I said: 'The tea isn't ready, but the water is almost boiling.' He nodded and called out: 'Dream Na, Mona!' - Mrs. Symmington didn't answer, and he went up to her bedroom, which must have shocked him. He called me, and I went upstairs, and he told me: 'Take the baby away point.’ Then he called Dr. Griffey and we forgot we were still making tea and the teapot burned through! Oh my God, it was horrible, she was laughing and laughing at lunch of."

Nash said suddenly, "What do you think of the letter she received, Miss Helan?" Elsie Holland said angrily: "Oh, I feel so vile - so vile!" "Yes, yes, that's not what I meant. Do you think that's what the letter says?" Elsie Holland said firmly: "No, I don't think it's true. Mrs Symington's sensitive—really very sensitive, she's very—well, 'special. Saying despicable and shameful things will greatly stimulate her." Nash was silent for a while, then asked again: "Have you ever received an anonymous letter? Miss Helan."

"No, no, I never got one." "Are you sure?" he said, holding up a hand. "Don't be in a hurry to answer. I know it's unpleasant to get that kind of letter, and that's why some people don't want to admit it. But in this case, we must understand that. A little. We know very well that there are many lies in the letter, so you don't have to feel ashamed." "But I really didn't receive it, Inspector, I really didn't. It never happened." She was so angry and anxious that she could hardly hold back the tears, and her denial seemed sincere.

After she went back to take care of the baby, Nash stood at the window and looked out. "Well," he said, "that's it! She said she never received an anonymous letter, which sounds like she's telling the truth." "I believe she's telling the truth." "Hmph," Nash said, "then I would like to know why she didn't receive it?" I looked at him, and he said impatiently: "She's a pretty girl, isn't she?" "Not just 'pretty.'" "That's right. To be honest, she is too beautiful and young. People who write anonymous letters like to look for this kind of object. Then, why did that person have sex with her?" I shake my head. "That's an interesting point, I'll have to mention it to Graves. He asked me if he actually knew of anyone who hadn't received an anonymous letter." "She's second," I said, "and Emily Barton, don't forget." Nash gave a low laugh and said, "Don't believe everything you hear, Mr. Burton. Miss Button has received one—no, more than one." "how do you know?" "I was told by the faithful and serious housekeeper who lived with her—Florence Alford, I suppose, that she was so angry with the letter that she would have drunk the blood of the writer." "Then why did Miss Emily deny it?" "Prudish, the town has a lot of tongue, and Emily has avoided vulgarity and ill-bred all her life." "What did the letter say?" "Still old, her letter is ridiculous, even suggesting that she poisoned her own mother and several sisters!" I couldn't believe it and said, "You mean, there's really that dangerous lunatic running around and we can't stop her right away?" "We will definitely find her," Nash said seriously, "as long as one more letter is written, she will not be able to escape." "But, God, she won't write that kind of stuff anymore—at least not yet." He stared at me. "No, it will, it will, she can't stop now. This is a sick mania, anonymous letters will continue to appear, that's absolutely true." Before I left, I found Megan in the garden.She looked like she was back to normal and smiled at me happily. I suggested that she stay at our house for a while, but she hesitated for a while, then shook her head. "It's very kind of you—but I think I'd better stay here, after all, it's—well, I think it's still my home, and I'm sure I've been a little helpful to the two boys." "Well," I said, "whatever you want." "Then I'll stay, I can—I can—" "Huh?" I urged her to continue. "If—if something terrible happens again, can I call you? Will you come?" I said emotionally, "Of course, but what do you think is going to happen again?" "I don't know," she said with a confused look. "It looks like something will happen again anyway, doesn't it?" "Stop talking!" I said, "and stop running around and making a dead body, it won't do you any good." With a flash of a smile on her face, she said, "Yeah, I feel like I'm going to be sick right now." I don't want to leave her behind, but as she said, this is her home after all, and I think Elsie Holland feels a little more responsible to her now. Nash and I went back to Little Foz.As I explained the morning to Joanna, Nash went over to deal with Patridge, only to come back to us dejected. "Nothing. According to the woman, the girl only said that there was something that worried her, and she didn't know what to do. She wanted to hear Patricia's opinion." "Did Patridge mention it to anyone?" Joanna asked. Nash nodded with a serious expression on his face. "Yes, she mentioned it on the phone to your Mrs. Emory, who comes in every day. I know 'some' young women like to ask older women for advice and don't know they can solve problems right away. Agnes may not be very bright , but she is a good girl who knows how to measure and respects people." "Yeah, Patridge is proud of that," whispered Joanna, "so Mrs. Emory spread the word again?" "Yes, Miss Burton." "There's one thing that surprises me," I said. "How could my sister and I be involved? We're both strangers from out of town—no one should hate us." "You are wrong. Abnormal brains like the 'poisonous pen' have nothing to look at. They are hated by everyone, and they are all thorns in the eyes." "I think," said Joanna thoughtfully, "that's what Mrs. Cathorpe means." Nash looked at her questioningly, but she didn't elaborate further. Inspector Nash said: "I don't know if you have looked carefully at the envelope in which you received the anonymous letter, Miss Burton. If you have, you may find that the letter was originally addressed to Miss Barton, and the 'a' was changed to a 'u' later." Words become letters to you." If we think about this thread well, it should lead us to find a way about things.It's a pity we didn't think about it at the time.