Chapter 18 Section 18

Craddock, accompanied by his two children, entered the cottage through the back door.This seems to be their usual way of getting in.The kitchen is bright and cozy.Lucy, wearing a large white apron, was kneading the dough.Leaning against the pantry and watching her work with doggy rapt attention was Brian Easterly.As he watched, he stroked the mustache on his lips with one hand. "Hello, Daddy..." Alexander said affectionately, "you're here again?" "I like it here," said Brian, and then, "Miss Eisborough thinks it's all right." "Oh, that's all right," said Lucy. "Good night, Inspector Craddock."

"To spy in the kitchen?" Brian asked with interest. "Not quite, Cedric's still here. Do you want to see him?" "I want to have a word with him. Yes, please tell him." "I'll go in and see if he's in there," Brian said. "He might be at the hotel here." He no longer leans against the pantry. "Thanks," Lucy said to him, "I've got flour on my hands, or I'd be going." "What are u doing?" "Peach Butter Pie." "Wow!" said Stoddar West. "Is it almost dinner time?" Alexander asked.

"Not here." "Oops! I'm starving!" "There's a piece of gingerbread left over in the pantry." The two children ran over together and bumped into each other. "They're just like locusts," said Lucy. "I want to congratulate you." "What are you congratulating, please explain clearly." Craddock was referring to the photo folder with the envelope in it. "What are you talking about?" "This, miss, this." He pulled the clip halfway out. She stared at him inexplicably. Craddock suddenly felt confused for her.

"Didn't you fake the clue? Didn't you put it in the boiler room for the kids to find? Tell me—quick!" "I don't understand at all what you're talking about," said Lucy. "You mean—" Craddock hurriedly put the clip back in his pocket when Brian came back. "Cedric is in the study," he said. "Go in." He went back to the pantry to lean on.Inspector Craddock went to the study.Cedric seemed pleased to see Inspector Craddock. "Come here and do a little more investigative work?" he asked. "Any progress?" "I think I may say that something is going on, Mr. Crackenthorpe."

"Did you find out who the body was?" "We're not sure who it is yet, but we have a pretty clever idea." "That's good." "Because of the latest information available, we wish to clarify. Mr. Crackenthorpe, it is up to you to begin now, as you happen to be here." "I won't be here long. I'll be in Evisha in a day or two." "Then, it seems I may still be in time." "go ahead." "I would ask you to specify where and what were you actually doing on Friday, December 20th?" Cedric gave him a quick glance, then he leaned back and yawned in a nonchalant way, as if trying to remember, lost in thought.

"Well, I already told you, I'm in Evisha. The problem is that life there is the same every day. Painting in the morning. Siesta from 3 to 5 in the afternoon. Then, if the light is right, a few more strokes. Then have a drink Before drinking, sometimes with the mayor, sometimes with the doctor, in the cafe on the square. After drinking, eat something casually. Most of the evening is spent drinking with friends from the lower class at the Scotty Hotel. Are you satisfied with this?" "I think it would be better for you to tell the truth, Mr. Crackenthorpe." Cedric sat up now.

"That's a hard thing to say, Inspector." "Do you think so? Mr. Crackenthorpe, you told me that you left Iversa on December 21st and arrived in England on the same day." "I said so. Emma, ​​hello, Emma!" At this moment Emma Crackenthorpe came out from the door of the small morning sitting-room next door, and looked from Cedric to the Inspector in bewilderment. "Listen, Emma, ​​I came here for Christmas on the Saturday before Christmas, didn't I? Straight from the airport, didn't I?" "Yes," Emma asked, not knowing why, "you came here about lunchtime."

"Look!" said Cedric to the Inspector. "Mr. Crackenthorpe, you must think us stupid," said Craddock pleasantly. "You know, we're going to look into these things. I think you'd better show me your passport—" He stopped and waited. "I can't find the damn thing," said Cedric. "I was looking for it this morning. I was going to send it to Cook's Travel." "I think you'll find it, Mr. Crackenthorpe. But it's not actually necessary. According to the records, you actually entered the country on the night of December 19th. Now, you may have to tell me." What did you do between then and lunchtime on December 21st."

Cedric looked really unhappy. "Life is so unfree these days," he said angrily, "all this bureaucracy, and filling out forms. It's only in a bureaucratic country. Anyway, it's always such a fuss to ask the 20th What are you doing? What’s so special about the 20th?” "That happened to be the day we thought the murder happened. You can refuse to answer, of course. But—" "Who says I'm refusing to answer? You need to give someone time, and, on the day of the inquest, you asked very vaguely about the date of the murder. Has anything new been discovered since then?"

Craddock didn't answer. Cedric looked sideways at Emma and said, "Shall we talk in the other room?" Emma said quickly: "I'd better leave, you talk." When she reached the door, she hesitated, turned her head and said: "Cedric, you know, this is very serious. If the 20th is the day when the murder occurred, then you must tell the inspector exactly what you did." She went to another room and closed the door behind her. "Good Emma," said Cedric, "well, I'll tell you! Yes, I left Iversa on the nineteenth, yes. I had planned to stop in Paris, and find some An old friend. But, actually, I met a very beautiful woman on the plane. Such a beautiful girl. To be clear, I got off the plane with her. She was on the way to the United States and had to live in London for a few days. My God, there's business to do. We're in London on the nineteenth, and we're staying at the Palace Hotel—perhaps your detectives haven't found out yet! I'm going by the name of John Brown—I never use my real name on an occasion like that."

"And on the twentieth?" Cedric grimaced. "In the morning, I've been very sad because of my hangover." "What about the afternoon? After three o'clock?" "I'll think about it. Ah, wandering around, as you say. Go to the National Gallery - that's the right place. And saw a movie 'Luana on the Meadow', I always love Watching a western. It was a good one.. Then have a drink or two at the bar, go back to the room and sleep. About ten o'clock, go out with the girl friend, and go to a few lively and exciting places. I can't even remember the names of most of those places. She knows them all. I was very drunk and, to tell you the truth, I don't remember anything else. By the next morning, I was more hungover than I was last time. Worse yet. The girlfriend ran off to catch a plane. I poured cold water on my head and got a pharmacist to make me some sober mix and off I went. I pretended I had just arrived in Heathrow. I think , don't make it hard for Emma. You know what women are like. They don't like it if you don't go straight home from the plane. I had to borrow money from her to pay for a taxi. I'm broke. Don't have to borrow money from the old man. .He can't get a penny out of it. Pensive old man! Well, Inspector, are you satisfied?" "Could you be more specific about what happened, Mr. Crackenthorpe? For example, what was done between three o'clock in the afternoon and seven o'clock in the afternoon?" "Probably not likely." Cedric said with a willingness to answer. "At the National Gallery, the waiters there looked at you with blank eyes, and there were a lot of people watching. No, I don't remember much. " Emma re-entered; an appointment-book in her hand. "I just checked my appointment book. On the twentieth I went to a meeting of the Church Restoration Foundation in Brackhamton. The meeting ended about a quarter to one. I was with the Baroness Eddington and Barrett. Lunch with Ms. Catanna Café. They are also committee members of the foundation. After lunch, I do some shopping, usually in the shops that sell Christmas goods and gifts. I go to Greenford, Leo, S Swift, Bout a couple of companies and maybe a few other shops. I had tea at the Sorrel Tea House about a quarter to five and then went to the station to pick up Brian as he was coming by train. I Arrived home about six o'clock to find my father furious. I had made his lunch, but Mrs. Hart, who had been appointed to bring him tea, did not come, and he was so angry that he closed the door of his room, I'm not allowed to go in or talk to him. He doesn't like me going out in the afternoon. But I insist on doing it sometimes." "You probably have good reason for doing so. Thank you, Miss Crackenthorpe." In fact, he thought it unnecessary to tell her, since she was a woman, only five feet seven inches tall, and it didn't matter what she was doing that afternoon.Therefore, he said instead: "I heard that the other two brothers came later?" "Alfred was late on Saturday night. He said he called in the afternoon when I wasn't home. However, my father didn't answer the phone when he was upset. My brother Harold didn't call until Christmas Eve. arrive." "Thank you, Miss Crackenthorpe." "I don't think I ought to ask"—she hesitated—"what's new for you to ask?" Crackenthorpe took the photo clip from his pocket, and with his fingers carefully extracted the envelope. "Please don't touch it. Do you recognize what it is?" "But—" Emma looked at him intently, bewildered. "That's my handwriting. That's my letter to Martine." "I suppose so." "But how did you get it? She—? Did you find her?" "Depending on the circumstances, we may have—already found her. This is where the empty envelope was found." "In this house?" "In this villa's venue." "So, she did come here! Is she—you mean, the dead man in the sarcophagus, Martine?" "It seems likely, Miss Crackenthorpe," said Craddock mildly. "Honestly," said Alexander thoughtfully, sitting on the bed, eating a bar of chocolate. "I've never had such an amazing experience as today. Truly found a solid lead!" His voice can't help but sound awe-inspiring. "It's been a marvelous whole holiday, really," he continued cheerfully, "and I don't think anything like it will ever happen again." "I hope I won't encounter such a thing again." Lucy was kneeling on the ground to help Alexander pack his clothes into the small suitcase. "Are you taking all these space novels with you?" "Don't take the two books on top, I've already read them. Pack the football, football boots, and rubber boots separately." "What a hard thing to carry with you boys when you go out!" "That's all right. They'll send us a Rolls-Royce. They've got a great Rolls-Royce. They've got a new Moses Benz, too." "They must be rich." "Lots of money! And nice people. Still, I hope I don't leave here. Maybe another dead body will turn up!" "I sincerely hope there will be no more dead bodies." "But, that's what happens in books. I mean, someone can kill someone if they see or hear something secret. Maybe you." He wrapped another chocolate candy Tear off the paper and continue talking. "Thank you!" "I don't want it to be you," Alexander reassured her. "I like you very much, and Stoddart likes you. We thought your cooking skills were rare in the world. You cook exquisite food. You are also very clever." This is clearly a high praise.Lucy thought so, and she said, "Thank you. But I'm not going to kill someone to satisfy your curiosity." "Oh, then, you must be careful," Alexander said to her.He paused, took some more nourishment, and then said with a little casual mention: "If my dad comes to the kitchen sometimes, you have to take care of him, okay?" "Well, of course," said Lucy, a little strangely. "My dad's trouble," Alexander told her, "is that life in London doesn't suit him. You know, he hangs out with dubious women a lot." He shook his head worryingly. "I like him very much," he went on, "but he needs someone to take care of him. He's wandering around and hanging out with dubious people. It's a pity that his mother died when she was supposed to take care of him. He needs to live. proper family life." He looked at Lucy seriously, and reached out for another chocolate candy. "Don't eat the fourth, Alexander," Lucy begged him, "and you'll make a mistake." "Ah, I don't think so. I ate two in a row once and it didn't hurt. I'm not the gutsy type." He hesitated, then said, "My daddy likes you, you know ?" "Thank you for his kindness." "He was kind of silly in some ways," Bryan's son said, "but he was a good fighter pilot before. He was very brave and had a very good temper." He paused, and then, turning his eyes to the ceiling, he said somewhat unnaturally: "You know what? I really think it would be nice if he married again. A decent woman. I'm not against having a stepmother myself--I mean, if she's a very decent kind of woman . . . " Lucy was surprised to find that there was something else in Alexander's words. "The usual talk about stepmothers is bullshit," Alexander went on, still looking at the ceiling. "That kind of talk is outdated. Stoddard and I know a lot of people who have stepmothers—but they get along very well. Of course, it all depends on how good the stepmother is. Of course, if it takes you out, like at a sports festival." It can be a bit confusing if you have the same type of day—I mean, if there are two sets of parents. But it helps if you want to profit from it." He paused, suddenly faced Confronted with the problems of modern life. "It's better to have your own home, your own parents, but if your mother is dead—you know what I mean? If she's a decent person—" said Alexander a third time. Lucy was very touched. "Alexander, I think you are very sensible," she said, "we must try to find a good wife for your father." "Yes," said Alexander vaguely. He said casually, "I just wanted to mention that to you. Brian likes you. He told me so." "Actually," Lucy thought to herself, "there are too many old men under the moon here. First Miss Marple, and now there is another Alexander!" For some reason, she thought about the pigsty again... She stood up. "Good night, Alexander, there are only your toilet things and pajamas, and they will be packed in the morning. Good night!" "Good night!" Alexander got into bed, leaned his head on the pillow, closed his eyes, and fell asleep immediately.A vivid picture of an angel in a dream.