Chapter 21 second quarter

I just stared at the book for a while, and then I turned to the front page and found that it was published in 1840. There is no doubt that the book I hold in my hand is the one used to piece together the anonymous letters.So who cut it off? First, it's likely to be Emily Button herself, or it could be Patridge. But there are other possibilities. Anyone who has been alone in this room may do it.For example, guests waiting here for Miss Emily, or people visiting on business. But that seemed unlikely, and I remember one day when a bank clerk came to see me, and Patrige took him to a small study at the back of the house, apparently that was the owner's rule.

So, is it a visitor?A person of "social standing": Mr. Pi?Amy Griffey?Mrs. Cassop? The bell rang and I went over to have lunch.Then back in the living room, I showed Joanna what I had found. After we discussed all possibilities, I took the book to the police station again. They were so delighted with my discovery and gave me a pat on the back when I was just lucky. Graves wasn't there, but Nash was, and he called Graves to tell him about it.They'll check it for fingerprints, but Nash doesn't think there are any, and neither do I.It bears nothing but my fingerprints and Patrige's, which means that Patrige occasionally wipes the dust from it.

I asked Nash what's new. "We are gradually narrowing the scope of our investigation to eliminate the improbable, Mr. Burton." "Oh," I said, "who's left?" "Miss King, she had an appointment with a client yesterday afternoon at a house not far from Camberice Road--that road is the road in front of Symington's house. No matter whether she goes back or forth, she will pass by The Symington family...and the day Mrs. Symington committed suicide last week when she received an anonymous letter was her last day at the Symington Company." "Mr. Symmington thought she hadn't left the office all afternoon, because he had been with Henry Lussingdens all afternoon, and he had called Miss King District several times. But I found out later that she Yes, I did leave the office to buy some high-value stamps. I could have asked the office boy to go, but Miss Jin District said that she had a headache and wanted to go out to get some fresh air and buy stamps by the way. She didn't go out for too long."

"But has it been long enough?" "Yes, as long as you walk fast, you will have time to go around the other side of the village, drop the letter in the Symington's mailbox, and then rush back to the office. But I must admit that no one saw her approaching the Symingtons." "Will anyone notice?" "Maybe, maybe not." "Who else do you suspect?" Nash looked straight ahead and said, "You should understand that we're not going to spare anyone." He said gravely: "Miss Griffey was in Brandon yesterday to meet a girl from the Ladies' Fellowship, but she was rather late."

"You wouldn't think—" "No, I don't 'think' anything, but I do 'didn't get' the facts. Miss Griffey is a lively, right-spirited woman—but, as I said, I 'didn't get' the facts." "What about last week? Could she have slipped the letter into the Symingtons' mailbox?" "Maybe, she went shopping that afternoon," he paused, "Miss Emily Barton was the same, she went out shopping very early yesterday afternoon, and she passed by Symington's house last Wednesday afternoon See some friends." I shook my head in disbelief.I know that since I found that old book that was cut up in Little Foz, the police will inevitably pay special attention to the owner of the house, but I think of Miss Emily's excited look when she came yesterday...

Fuck him—excitement...yes, excitement—reddened face—shining eyes—must not be because—couldn't be because— I said vaguely: "This kind of thing has a really bad influence on people! It will make people imagine a lot of things—" Nash nodded sympathetically, "Yes, it's really not a pleasant thing to think of people you meet every day as psychopaths who might commit crimes." He paused, and then said, "And Mr. Pi—" I said sharply, "So you think it's possible for him, too?" Nash smiled: "Yes, we're taking him into consideration, too. He's an odd guy--not a very nice guy, I should say. He's got no alibi and was alone in his two Wednesday afternoons." In the garden."

"In other words, it's not just women you suspect?" "I also don't think the letter was written by a man—I'm pretty sure of that, actually—and Grave agrees with me. But Mr. P. is not an ordinary man. He has a very special feminine tendency. We investigated yesterday afternoon. I've been to 'everyone', you know, it's a murder case. 'You' have no problem, and neither does your sister," he smiled: "Mr. Symmington has not left since he arrived at the office. On the other side, I have already investigated." He paused, smiled, and said, "Look, we've checked them all."

I said slowly, "So there are only three people left on your list of suspects—Mr. Pi, Miss Griffey and Miss Button?" "Oh, no, no, we have two suspects besides the pastor's wife." "You thought of 'her' too?" "We 'everyone' thought that Mrs. Cathorpe was a little too crazy to show off, I hope you know what I mean, but she could do it anyway. She was out in the woods yesterday afternoon watching the birds - the birds of course There is no way to testify against her." Owen Griffey walked into the station, and he turned immediately.

"Hi, Nash, I heard you were looking for me this morning. Is there anything important?" "An inquest will be held on Friday, if it is convenient for you, Dr. Griffey." "Yes, Mosby and I will do the post-mortem tonight." Nash said, "One more thing, Dr. Griffey, Mrs. Symmington took the powder you prescribed her—" he stops. Owen Griffey said in a questioning tone, "Huh?" "Will that kind of powder cause death if you overdose?" "Of course not," Griffey said coldly, "unless she eats twenty-five servings at a time."

"But Miss Helan told me that you once warned her about the danger of overdose." "Oh, yes, a woman like Mrs Symington often takes what she's told too far, thinking she'll do twice as good if she takes twice as much medicine. But we doctors don't want anyone more Take phenacetin or aspirin, because it's not good for the heart. But in any case, the cause of death has been determined to be cyanide poisoning." "Oh, I know, you don't understand me yet, I just guessed that when a person kills himself, he would rather kill himself with an overdose of sleeping pills than with cyanic acid."

"Well, you're right. But on the other hand, cyanic acid is more dramatic, and certainly effective. If you take barbitates or something, and you catch it quickly, you can often save your life. " "I see, thank you, Dr. Griffey." Griffey left, and I said goodbye to Nash, and walked slowly on the way home. Joanna went out, leaving a lively note by the phone, probably for Patridge or me. "If Dr. Griffey calls and tells him I can't make it on Tuesday, but Wednesday or Thursday." I raised my eyebrows, walked into the living room, and sat in "the most comfortable rocking chair"—(In fact, all the chairs here are straight-backed, and none of them are comfortable. They are all left by the late Mrs. Barton ) -- stretch your legs and try to figure it out. I suddenly thought very angrily that Owen had interrupted my conversation with the inspector just now, and he mentioned two suspicious people again. I don't know who those two people are. Perhaps Patridge was one of them.For one thing, the book was found in this house, and she could knock Agnes unconscious without making Agnes suspect.Well, Patridge really couldn't help being suspicious. But who is that other person? Is it someone I don't know well?Mrs. Gollitt—the original suspicion of the townspeople? I closed my eyes and thought about the four, how different they were: gentle and vulnerable Emily Barton?What is suspicious about her?Life is too poor?Is it because she was under too much control and pressure as a child?Sacrifice too much for others?She's been weirdly afraid to discuss anything 'not good enough'?Is this enough to prove that she does have these preconceived ideas in her heart?Am I being too Freudian?I remember a doctor once told me that the words of a woman with a gentle appearance after being hypnotized are her true words, "You would never think that she would know those words!" Amy Griffey? She certainly had no repressed preoccupations, and she was happy, manly, and very successful, leading a full and busy life.But the Reverend Mrs. Cassop said she was "a poor thing." And something else—I seem to remember... oh, yes!Owen Griffey once said: "When we lived in the North, there were anonymous letters." Could it be Amy Griffey's masterpiece too?What a coincidence, two exactly the same thing. No, wait a minute, Griffey said, the author of that anonymous letter has been found out, and it is a female student. I suddenly felt very cold—it must be the cold wind blowing in from the window, and I moved uncomfortably in the chair.Why do I suddenly feel strange and uneasy? Let me go further... Amy Griffey, maybe the anonymous letter was written by Amy Griffey and 'not' the school girl?Amy shifted her position again, to this place to repeat the old trick?Is that why Owen Griffey looked so unhappy, so restless?He must have doubts in his heart, yes, he doubts in his heart... Where's Mr. Pi?He's not a very nice guy after all, and I can almost picture him chuckling behind his back, directing the whole show... That phone message in the lobby -- why am I thinking about it?Griffey and Joanna--he had fallen under her skirts.No, it's not the note that bothers me, it's something else... At this time, I was already very sleepy, and I kept repeating stupidly in my mind: "There is no fire, no smoke, no fire, no smoke... that is it... it is the biggest key." Then I seemed to be walking down the street with Megan. He Lan walked by us, she was dressed like a bride, passers-by whispered: "She is finally going to marry Dr. Griffey, of course, they have been engaged in private for several years..." Then we got to the church again, and Reverend Cassop was saying a prayer in Latin. Reverend Cassop's wife jumped up suddenly and shouted, "This must be stopped, I tell you, this must be stopped!" For a moment, I really didn't know if I was awake or dreaming.Then, when I came to my senses, I knew I was still in Little Foz's drawing-room, when the Rev. Mrs. Cassop had just come in at the door, and stood before me, saying nervously and rudely: "This matter must be stopped, I tell you." I jumped up, "Excuse me," I said, "I'm afraid I fell asleep. What did you just say?" The Reverend Mrs. Cassop struck the palm of the other hand with one fist, and said: "This must be stopped, these anonymous letters! Murder and silence! No more poor and innocent people like Agnes Wardell. The child was 'killed'!" "You're quite right," I said, "but what are you going to do about it?" Mrs. Cassop said: "We must take action!" I smiled -- maybe a little detachedly -- and said, "What action do you suggest?" "Clear this up! I said it wasn't an evil place, and now I know I was wrong, it 'is' an evil place." I felt annoyed, and said rather impolitely, "Yes, dear lady, but 'how' are you going to do it anyway?" Mrs. Cassop said, "Stop it, what's the matter?" "The police did everything they could." "Since Agnes was killed yesterday, it can be seen that the police are not working hard enough." "In other words, you know more than they do?" "No, 'I' don't know anything, that's why I'm calling in an expert." I shook my head and said, "You can't do that. Scotland Yard has accepted the request of the police officers in the county and sent Inspector Graves to help." "I don't understand 'that' kind of expert. The expert I'm talking about is not an expert who specializes in anonymous letters or even homicide cases, but an expert who understands 'human nature'. Can't you see it? We need someone who is very sensitive to 'evil'." people who understand." The notion is weird, but exciting. Before I could say anything, the Reverend Mrs. Cassop nodded to me, and said quickly and confidently, "I'll do it right away." After speaking, he walked out.