On the platform, Mrs. McGillicuddy walked panting after the porter who carried her box.She was short and stout; the porter was tall, unhurried, striding, and just going forward.Not only that, but Mrs. McGillicuddy has a lot of bags and bags, which are very cumbersome.That was Christmas gift shopping all day long.Therefore, the racing speed of the two of them is very different.Mrs. McGillicuddy was still on the platform when the porter turned the corner at the end. There was nothing wrong with the fact that the people on platform No. 1 were not crowded at that time.Because a train has just left the station; but, on the other side of the platform, in the area not designated for a special purpose, people are in a hurry, some come up from the lower floor, some go down, Turning around in several directions at the same time; luggage storage room, tea room, information desk, signage, and two exits leading to the outside.

Mrs. McGillicuddy bumped things around with her bags and bags, and finally came to the entrance of platform three.She puts a bag at her feet while she searches for a ticket in her handbag.Only in this way can you pass the inspection by the stern uniformed ticket inspector at the door. At that moment, she suddenly heard the voice of the radio above her head, hoarse but very elegant. "The car on platform three," the voice told her. "Four fifty-four to Brackhamton, Michester, Weaverton, Cavill Junction, Roxter, and stations to Chadmouth. To Brackhamton and Mill Passengers for Chester, please take the rear car. Passengers for Van Quay, please change trains at Roxter." Then, with a click, the radio was switched on.Then the shouting began again, announcing the arrival of the four-thirty-five train from Birmingham and Birdhamton.

Mrs. McGillicuddy found the ticket and gave it to the conductor.The man cut the ticket and whispered, "On the right, the back part." Mrs. McGillicuddy walked slowly across the platform to find her porter.He was staring at the sky at the door of the third-class carriage, looking very bored. "Here, ma'am." "I'm traveling first class," said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "You didn't tell me just now," complained the porter.His eyes flicked contemptuously over the manswear salt and pepper tweed coat she was wearing. After Mrs. McGillicuddy said that, she stopped arguing with him about it.She was out of breath.

The porter picked up the case again, strode over, and settled Mrs. McGillicuddy in the deserted, gorgeous carriage.The train at 4:54 was not visited by many people.Because customers of the first-class car prefer to take the faster morning express, or the car with the dining car at 6:40.Mrs. McGillicuddy handed the porter the tip.The man looked very disappointed after receiving it, obviously thinking that this amount is not suitable for the status of a first-class passenger, but only suitable for a third-class passenger.Mrs. McGillicuddy was coming from the north, tired of a night's travel, and a day of exciting shopping, and was going to spend some money to make herself more comfortable on the journey.However, her tips are never wasted.

Mrs. McGillicuddy sighed, leaned back on the velvet cushions, and opened a magazine.Five minutes later, the whistle sounded and the car started.The magazine slipped from McGillicuddy's hand, and her head fell on its side, and three minutes later she was asleep.She slept for thirty-five minutes and was refreshed.Her hat, which had fallen awry, was straightened now, and she sat up looking out the window at the country flying by.It was very dark now.A gloomy December day—only five days until Christmas.The weather in London had been dark and gloomy the last few days, and it was the same in the country now.Occasionally, however, the constant flickering of clusters of lights as the car sped past small towns and stations made it more pleasant.

"The last tea is served now," said a train steward, opening the corridor door suddenly like a ghost.Mrs. McGillicuddy had had tea in a large department store and was still full.So the waiter walked down the corridor, reporting in that monotonous voice.Mrs. McGillicuddy looked with pleasure at the packages on the shelves.Those face towels were a bargain, and just what Margaret needed.The space gun for Robbie, and the bunny for Jen are also very satisfying.The evening top she had bought for herself was just what she needed, warm but stylish. Satisfied, she turned her gaze out of the window.At this time, there was a train passing by in the opposite direction, and at the same time, the whistle blew sharply, so the windows of the car rattled and made her body jump suddenly.At several points, the car rattled and later passed a station.

Then the car slowed down suddenly, presumably in response to a signal.Climb forward like this for a few minutes, then stop.Before long, it started moving forward again.Another train passed them, but not as aggressively as the first train.The car now gains speed.At this time, another train, also going up, suddenly turned inward and came towards them, which produced an almost astonishing effect for a moment.For a while, the two trains went parallel, and sometimes this one was faster, and sometimes that one was faster.From their window Mrs. McGillicuddy could look into those parallel windows.The curtains over there are mostly closed.Occasionally, however, people in the car can be seen.There were not many passengers in the other car, and there were many empty compartments.

When the two cars gave people the illusion that they were not moving, at that moment, a curtain of the carriage on the other side suddenly opened with a swish.Mrs. McGillicuddy looked into the lighted carriage only a few feet away. Then, she took a dumbfounded breath and almost stood up. She saw a man standing there with his back to the window and her back.His hands strangled the neck of a woman across from him.He was slowly and relentlessly strangling her.Her eyeballs had bulged out of their sockets; her face had turned purple with blood.When Mrs. McGillicuddy, stared blankly, it was all over.The woman's body was already limp and collapsed in his hands.

Meanwhile, Mrs. McGillicuddy's car slowed down again; the other car picked up speed.The car sped by and was out of sight for a minute or two. Mrs. McGillicuddy reached for the alarm wire attached to it almost automatically, then hesitated again.What was the use of pulling the alarm on her own car?She was petrified by the horror she had seen so close, and she must act now--but how? The door of her cubicle opened.A ticket collector said, "Please take out the ticket." Mrs. McGillicuddy, turning sharply to him, said, "A woman was strangled just now. In that train that just went by. I saw it."

The ticket collector looked at her suspiciously. "What did you say, ma'am?" "A man strangled a woman! In a train! I saw it—from there." She pointed to the window. The ticket collector looked very suspicious. "Strangled?" he said incredulously. "By the way, strangled. I saw it, and I'll tell you. You've got to do something right away!" The ticket collector coughed apologetically. "Ma'am, don't you think maybe you dozed off—well—" He stopped tactfully. "I dozed off. But if you think it was a dream, you're totally wrong. I tell you, I saw it."

The ticket collector looked down and saw an open magazine on the seat.On the exposed page, a girl was strangled and nearly strangled.Meanwhile, another man pointed a gun at them. He said persuasively: "Now, ma'am, do you think that you were reading a very exciting novel and fell asleep. When you woke up later, the impression was confused--" Mrs. McGillicuddy interrupted him. "I saw it," she said. "I was as conscious as you are now. I looked out the window and saw what was happening in the window of a car next to me. A man was strangling a girl and was about to strangle her. .Now all I want to know is: what are you going to do?" "This—ma'am—" "I think you're going to figure something out, aren't you?" "We're just seven minutes away from Brackhamton .I'll report back to them what you told me. Was the car you said going in that direction?" "Of course it was. Now, can I see all that?" The ticket collector looked at Mrs. McGillicuddy as if she could imagine that she could see anywhere and anything.However, he is still very polite. "You can count on me, ma'am," he said. "I'll tell them what you say. Maybe I'll have to get your name and address down, just in case—" Mrs. McGillicuddy gave him the address where she would be staying for the next few days, and her permanent address in Scotland.He wrote it all down and said goodbye.He looked as if he had done his duty and dealt with an annoying traveler satisfactorily. Mrs. McGillicuddy was still frowning, vaguely dissatisfied.Will the ticket collector report her words to her superiors?Or, he might just comfort her.She wondered vaguely how old people used to travel here and there believing they had uncovered some conspiracy, or were in danger of killing people, or had seen flying saucers and secret spaceships.They often report murders that never happened.What if the ticket collector thought she was like that and ignored her... The car was moving slowly now, passing a few switch gates and crossing a large town brightly lit. Mrs. McGillicuddy opened her handbag, took out a bill stamped "Received"—the only piece of paper she could find—scribbled a few words on the back with a ballpoint pen, and put it in a There is a square envelope at hand, glue it well, and then write a few words on it. The car was parked on the side of a crowded platform.The usual broadcast voice, heard everywhere, reported in cadence: "The train arriving at platform one departs for Michester, Weaverton, Roxster, and Chad at 5:38." Demouth stations. Passengers to Bassing Market take the trains waiting there on Platform 3. Sideline Platform 1 is reserved for Carbury-bound trains." Mrs. McGillicuddy looked eagerly down the platform.So many travelers, but so few porters.Ah, there's one!She called him very dignifiedly. "Porter! Please send this to the station master's office immediately." She handed him the letter and gave him a shilling at the same time. Then, she sighed and leaned back in the chair.Well, she did her best.The shilling was haunting her mind, and she felt a moment's remorse.In fact, six pence is enough... She recalled now what she had witnessed.Terrible, very terrible.She is a woman with a strong nerve.But when I think about it, I tremble all over.Esper McGillicuddy!What strange, strange things had happened to her!If the curtains in that car hadn't happened to be open...but, well, that was providence, of course. It was God's destiny that she--Esby McGillicuddy--be a witness to the murder.She pursed her lips firmly. Shouts, sirens, and slamming doors.The 5:38 train rolled slowly out of Brahamton station.An hour and five minutes later, it stopped at Michester. Mrs. McGillicuddy picked up her bags and suitcases and got out of the car.She looked to both sides of the platform.She thought about what she had thought before: not enough porters.Porters like this seem to be busy carrying mail bags and pushing luggage carts.Today's travelers seem forever to be able to carry their own suitcases.However, she couldn't lift her suitcase, umbrella, and all her bags.She has to wait.Before long, she found a porter. "Is there a taxi?" "I think there will be a car to pick me up." Outside Michester Station, a driver who had been paying attention to the exit came over.He said in a mild local accent: "Mrs. McGillicuddy? To St. Mary's Ranch?" Mrs. McGillicuddy said she was. The driver was paid, not generously, but adequately.The car, carrying Mrs. McGillicuddy, her suitcases and bags, drove away in the dark.That's nine miles.Mrs. McGillicuddy sat upright in the car, unable to relax.She longed to express her inner feelings.Finally, the car drove through the familiar country street and finally stopped at the destination.Mrs. McGillicuddy walked up the brick path that led to the door.When the door was opened by an elderly maid, the driver put the box inside the door.Mrs. McGillicuddy went all the way across the hall.At the open living room door the hostess was waiting for her: an elderly, frail old lady. "Esby!" "Jane!" They kiss each other.Mrs. McGillicuddy did not beat around the bush, but cut straight to the point: "Ah, Jane! I just saw a murder!"