Chapter 19 fourth quarter

Amy Griffey, as usual, burst out: "It's terrible! I heard you were there--and left early?" She especially emphasized the word "morning", and her eyes were still shining. I didn't want to tell her Megan called me, just said, "Oh, I was a little upset last night, the girl was supposed to be at the house for afternoon tea, but she never came." "So you're worrying about the worst? So smart!" "Yes," I said, "I'm a hound with a good sense of smell." "This is the first time a homicide has occurred in Lynstack, and it has caused a terrible commotion. Hopefully, the police will be able to deal with it."

"I don't worry about that," I said. "They're all capable." "The girl probably opened the door for me a few times, but I can hardly remember her face, a quiet and unobtrusive little guy. First knocked on her brain, then pierced the back of her head, it was Owen Told me. Looks like boyfriend did it, don't you think?" "You think so?" "That's probably the case. I think the two may have had a fight. Those people are very uneducated--bad backgrounds." She paused, and then said: "I heard that the body was found by Megan Hunter Right? She must have been taken aback."

I simply say, "Yes." "I don't think it's good for her. I think her nerves are a little weak. This sort of thing might throw her off a little bit." Suddenly I made up my mind to know one thing. "May I ask Miss Griffey, did you persuade Megan to go home yesterday?" "Oh, I can't quite call it persuasion." I stood my ground and said, "But you did say something to her, didn't you?" Amy Griffey put herself on her feet, and looking at me with a little self-defense in her eyes, said: "That's only good for her. That little girl just shirks her responsibilities. She's too young to know what to say, so I think I should persuade her."

"Human words—?" I blurted out, but I was so angry that I couldn't continue. Amy Griffey went on with her usual self-sufficient self-confidence: "Oh, I bet 'you' don't hear the gossip, I do! I know what people say behind their backs. Listen, I never took those rumors seriously - not for a minute .But you know those people who can say anything nasty! And when that girl starts to earn her own living, it's not going to be very nice to her." "Self-supporting?" I asked confused. Amy continued: "Of course, it's a tough situation for her. I mean, she can't just walk away and leave two kids unattended. She's so nice--really nice! I'm talking to everyone That's what they say! But this situation is easy to attract people's envy, and others will gossip."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked. "Elsie Holland, of course," said Amy Griffey impatiently. "I think she's really a very good girl, and has been doing her duty." "What did others say about her?" Amy Griffey smiled, not a pleasant smile, I thought. "Said she was already thinking of being Mrs. Symmington second--to comfort the widower with all his heart, and make him want her." "But," I asked in amazement, "Mrs. Symmington has only been dead for a week!" Amy Griffey shrugged. "Of course, it's a bit outrageous, but you know people are like this! That girl named He Lan is young and beautiful, that's enough. Besides, a girl doesn't want to be a nanny all her life, if she Wanting a stable home and a husband, and not being able to achieve her goals, I don't blame her."

"Of course," she went on, "poor Dick Symington hadn't thought of any of that! He's still feeling sorry for Mona Symmington's death. But you know men too, and if the girl had been with him To be around, to make him comfortable, to take care of everything for him, and to appear to love his children very much—well, he'll have her." I said quietly: "In other words, do you think Elsie Holland is a sly and frivolous woman?" Amy Griffey flushed. "I definitely didn't mean that, I just felt sorry for that girl—someone would gossip about those mean things behind her back! That's why I persuaded Megan to go home more or less for this reason. C. Symmington is better at home alone with the girl."

I'm starting to understand a little bit. Amy Griffey smiled happily: "It must be frightening to hear so much gossip in a small place like ours, Mr. Burton, I can tell you one thing - people always think of the worst !" She nodded with a smile and strode away. I met Mr. P. by the church, talking to an excited, blushing Emily Barton. Mr. Pi was obviously very happy to meet me! "Oh, Burton, morning! Morning! How is your lovely sister?" I told him Joanna was fine. "Then why didn't she come to our village meeting? We were all shocked and intrigued by the news. Murder! We're going to have a real murder here! It's not an interesting crime, I'm afraid, and it's kind of despicable. Killed a little maid. No fingerprints, but certainly news."

Miss Button cringed: "It's dreadful—it's dreadful." Mr. Pi turned his head to look at her and said: "But you are still a little gloating, my dear lady, you are a little gloating, admit it! You disapprove of this kind of thing, feel very sad, but still feel a little exciting, I, believe you' must 'Feel a little exciting!" "Such a fine girl," said Emily Barton, "she came to me from the 'House of Saint-Claude,' and had no experience at all, but was willing to learn, and became a very good maid." , Patridge is very pleased with her."

I said at once, "She was supposed to have afternoon tea with Patridge yesterday afternoon." Turning to Mr. P., I said, "I'm sure Amy Griffey told you." My tone was very natural, and Mr. Pi replied without hesitation: "Yes, she mentioned it. I remember she said that it's really a new thing for a servant to use the master's phone." "Patridge would never do such a thing," Miss Emily said. "I'm so surprised that Agnes did it." "You are behind the times, my dear lady," said Mr. Pi. "My two servants use my phone a lot, and they smoke all over the room. When they can't stand the protest, they I just restrained myself a bit. But I dare not say too much, although Priest has a bad temper, he is a great cook, and his wife is also a rare good housekeeper."

"Yeah, we all think you're lucky." I didn't want the conversation to become gossip, so I interrupted: "The murder spread quickly." "Of course, of course," said Mr. P. "the butcher, the baker, the candlemaker . Propensity." Emily Barton said nervously: "They think—no one thinks—that it's related." Mr. P. seized this point and said, "That's interesting. That girl knew a certain secret, and that's why she was murdered. Yes, yes, it's quite possible. You're so clever to think of that." "I—I can't stand it."

Emily Barton blurted out, turned and walked away quickly. Mr. Pi watched her back, his angelic face wrinkled strangely. He turned around and shook his head slightly. "Sensitive, very cute, isn't it? It's completely out of date, you know, she's still stuck in the thinking of the previous generation. Her mother must have a strong personality, and the whole family has maintained the ethos of circa 1870, just It's like living in a glass house. I kind of like that kind of thing." I don't want to talk about this topic, so I asked him: "How do you feel about the whole thing?" "Do you mean?" "Anonymous letters, homicide cases..." "Crime in the area? What do you think?" "I asked you first." I said happily. Mr. Pi said softly: "I only have a preliminary understanding of mental abnormalities, but I find it very interesting. People who are so unlikely to commit crimes do the most incredible things. Take the case on the Lixi border as an example, there has never been a very reasonable explanation. As for this In this case, I want to advise the police to study more about each person's personality. Don't worry about fingerprints, handwriting, magnifying glass, etc., observe how other people do things with their hands, changes in attitude, eating methods, and whether they laugh for no reason, etc. Wait." I raised my eyebrows. "A lunatic?" "Crazy, crazy," said Mr. P., adding: "But you'll never guess who it is!" "Who?" He looked into my eyes, smiled and said: "No, no, Burton, if you continue to talk about it, you will be spreading rumors, and we can't make any more extravagance." He disappeared briskly down the street.