Chapter 20 Section 20

On the phone, Craddock sounded clearly disbelieving. "Alfred?" he said. "Alfred?" Inspector Bacon turned the phone and said, "You didn't expect that, did you?" "Yes, I did not expect it. In fact, I just judged him to be the murderer." "I heard he was recognized by the station ticket-cutter, and it looked bad for him. Yes, it looks as if we've found the murderer." "But," said Craddock decisively, "we were wrong." Then there was a moment of silence, and then Craddock asked: "There's a nurse there, how could she go wrong?"

"Can't blame her either. Miss Ashborough is very tired, go to sleep. The nurse has five patients to attend to: old gentleman, Emma, ​​Cedric, Harold, and Alfred. She can't All at the same time. It seemed that old Mr. Crackenthorpe was beginning to make a very exaggerated fuss, and he said he was going to die, and she went in to appease him, and then came back. She took some Glucose tea for Alfred. He drank it, and that was it." "Arsenic again?" "It seems so. Of course, it could also be a recurrence of toxicity. But Kun Po disagrees, and Jason agrees with him."

"I suppose," said Craddock uncertainly, "that the poisoner intended to kill Alfred?" Bacon sounded interested, "You mean Alfred's death didn't do anyone any favors, and the old man's death benefits everybody? I think that might be a mistake, someone Maybe thought that cup of tea was intended for the old man." "Can they be sure that's how the poison was placed?" "No, of course they couldn't be sure. The nurse was a good nurse. She washed all the novelty tea things--cups, teaspoons, teapots--everything. Still, that seemed the only way to go."

"You mean?" said Craddock thoughtfully, "one of the patients, who was not so ill as the others, saw his opportunity, and poisoned his teacup." "Well, nothing more strange will happen." Inspector Bacon said solemnly, "Now there are two nurses taking care of there besides Miss Esborough. Besides, I have sent two policemen There, do you want to come over?" "I'll be there as soon as possible." Lucy Esborough came across the hall to meet Inspector Craddock.Her face was pale and drawn long. "You've had a lot of trouble," Craddock said.

"I seem to have had a long, terrible nightmare," said Lucy. "I really thought they were going to die last night." "About this chicken curry—" "Is curry chicken poisonous?" "Yes, arsenic was cleverly added to it. It's exactly the method of Borgia who murdered her husband." "If that's real," said Lucy, "it must be—must be—one of their family." "Is there no other possibility?" "Yeah, you know? It was late when I started making that damn chicken curry, after six o'clock, because Mr. Crackenthorpe specifically asked me to make curry chicken. So I had to open a new pot." Curry powder. So, someone may have tampered with that curry powder, I think curry can cover the smell of poison?"

"Arsenic is tasteless," said Craddock absently. "Now—we've got to think about chance. Which of them would have had the chance to mess with curry chicken while it was cooking?" Lucy thinks about it. "In fact," she said, "anyone could sneak into the kitchen while I was setting the table in the restaurant." "Oh. Who was there? Old Mr. Crackenthorpe, Emma, ​​Cedric—" "Halald and Alfred, they came from London that afternoon. Oh, and Brian—Brian Easterly. But he left before dinner, he had to go to Brahamton will be alone." Craddock said thoughtfully, "It has something to do with the old gentleman's Christmas sickness. Quinpo guessed it was arsenic poisoning. Did they all seem equally ill last night?"

Lucy thought about it and said, "I think old Mr. Crackenthorpe seems to be the most powerful. Dr. Quinpo is trying like crazy to treat him. He is a very good doctor. Cedric made the most of the fuss. Of course, the body is strong." All people are like that.” "Where's Emma?" "She was very ill, too." "I don't understand, how could it be Alfred?" Craddock said. "I know," said Lucy, "that it was intended to poison Alfred." "Strange, I don't understand how it could be him." "In any case, it seems pointless."

"I wish I could discover the motive for all this?" Craddock said. "It doesn't seem to connect. Let's assume that the strangled woman in the sarcophagus is Edmund Crackenthal." Pu's widow. Now that it has been established quite clearly, there must be a connection between this and the deliberate poisoning of Alfred. It's all here, somewhere in the family. Even if It means that one of them is crazy, and it can't help us explain." "I can't." Lucy thought so too. "Take care of yourself, then," Craddock warned her. "Remember, there's a poisoner in this cottage. One of your patients upstairs isn't as sick as he pretends to be." sharp."

After Craddock left, Lucy went upstairs slowly again.As she passed Mr. Crackenthorpe's room a domineering voice, weakened by illness, called to her. "Girl! Girl! Is that you? Come here!" Lucy walked into the room.Crackenthorpe was lying on the bed, the pillows high.For a sick man, Lucy thought, he seemed particularly refreshed. "This house is full of damned nurses," complained Mr. Crackenthorpe, "running around and looking great, just taking my temperature and not giving me what I want to eat. All this must cost money, tell Emma to send them away, don't you take good care of me?"

"Everybody's sick, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Lucy. "I can't take care of everybody, you know." "Mushrooms," said Mr. Crackenthorpe. "Damn things! Mushrooms! That's the soup we had last night, and you made it," he went on accusingly. "Those mushrooms are all right, Mr. Crackenthorpe." "I'm not blaming you, girl. I'm not blaming you, it's happened before. There's a goddamn mold in it, no one knows. I know you're a good girl, you don't mean to Having done that, how is Emma now?" "Feeling better this afternoon."

"Oh, and Harold?" "He's better too." "I heard that Alfred is finished, what's going on?" "They shouldn't have told you that, Mr. Crackenthorpe." Mr. Crackenthorpe laughed, high-pitched, a neighing sound that he found amusing. "I'll hear," he said, "they're not going to keep it from the old man, they're trying to keep it from me. Well, Alfred's dead, isn't he? He can't live on me like a parasite anymore." , and I don't get any of my money. They're all waiting for me to die, you know, especially Alfred. Now that he's dead, I think it's a big joke." "You're not being kind enough to say that, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Lucy sternly. Mr. Crackenthorpe laughed again. "I will live longer than them." He said triumphantly, "Just wait and see! Just wait and see!" Lucy went back to her room, took out her dictionary, and looked up a noun: .She closed the dictionary and thought about it, staring ahead. "I don't understand why you're coming to me," said Dr. Morris, very displeased. "Because you've known the Crackenthorpes a long time," said Inspector Craddock. "Yes, yes, I knew all the Crackenthorpes. I remember old Josiah Crackenthorpe. He was a tough man--but very shrewd, and made a lot of money. ’ His aged figure shifted in the chair, eyes peering out from under bushy brows at Inspector Craddock. "So you've been hearing that young fool Kumpe," he said, "these young enthusiastic doctors! Fresh ideas in their heads. He thinks Luther Crackenthorpe is being poisoned! Nonsense! Exaggeration! Of course, he once had a stomach attack, and I treated him. It doesn’t happen often, and there is nothing special about it.” "Dr. Quinpo," said Craddock, "seems to think so." "It's not good for a doctor to keep thinking. If I see arsenic poisoning, I'll recognize it." "There are many eminent physicians who have failed to notice this phenomenon," Craddock pointed out, and he cited examples from memory, "Green Barrow's case, Mrs. Rainey, Charlie Leeds, and The three members of Weisbury's family were all buried, and no sign of poisoning was noticed by the physicians who treated them, all of whom were of good reputation." "Well, well," said Dr. Morris, "you thought I might be mistaken when you said that. But I don't think I was wrong." He paused, and then said, "If someone poisoned Who does Kun Po think did it?" "He doesn't know," Craddock said. "He's worried, and you know that," he went on. "There's a lot of money involved, after all." "Yes, yes, I know. It's what they'll get when Luther Crackenthorpe dies, and they need it badly. That's true. It doesn't mean they didn't kill him." That old man." "Not a foregone conclusion," Craddock agreed. "In any case," said Dr. Morris, "my rule is that I do not suspect without proper reason, and with proper reason." He repeated, "I must confess that what you have just said , I'm a bit shocked. There's a massive use of arsenic, that's obvious, but I don't understand why you're coming to me. Maybe I should have taken Luther Crackenthorpe's stomach attack more seriously in the first place Some. But it’s been a long time now.” Craddock admits that, "What I really need," he said, "is to know a little more about the Crackenthorpes. Do they have any strange nervousness? Are there any eccentricities of any kind?" The phenomenon?" The eyes under those bushy brows watched him warily. "Yes, I can see you thinking in that direction. Well, old Josiah's mind is sane enough. He's physically strong and very sensible. His wife is nervous and prone to depression, Growing up in an inbreeding family. She died shortly after Josiah was born. You know what? I think Luther inherited a - this - emotionally unstable personality from her. He was mediocre when he was young But he was always at odds with his father. If you had talked with him, you would have noticed that he had a great dislike for his own son. His daughter, he liked very much. Emma and Eddie--Dead The one—he likes both." "Why does he dislike his son so much?" Craddock asked. "To find out why, you'd have to consult a new-school psychiatrist. All I can say is that he felt he wasn't getting the best out of a man. And he resented his financial position. He had an income. But no power over his money. If he had the power to disinherit his sons, maybe he wouldn’t hate them so much. Because he has no power over that, he feels humiliated.” "He's happy at the thought of outliving them, that's why," said Inspector Craddock. "Perhaps, I think, that was the root cause of his miserliness. He must have amassed a considerable sum. Most of that, of course, before the income tax climbed to dizzying heights." Craddock suddenly had an idea and thought of something new. "I suppose he may have made a will to bequeath his savings to someone? He can always do that, can't he?" "Oh, yes, but God knows who he'll leave it to, perhaps Emma. But I don't think so. She'll have a share of the old grandfather's estate, perhaps to Alexander, his grandson." "He likes him, doesn't he?" said Craddock. "Yes, of course, he's his daughter's son, not his son's, that might be different. And he's also very fond of Brian Easterly, his brother's husband, of course I know about Brian's situation Not much. It's been a while since I've seen any of the family. However, I don't think he ever found a secure job after the war, and he had the qualities that a man needs in wartime—courage, drive, and ' 'Never mind the future' attitude. But, I think he's an unstable guy, he might be a bum." "As far as you know, no one in the younger generation is particularly eccentric?" "Cedric is an odd type, a born rebel. I can't say he's perfectly normal. But, you might say, who's normal? Harold's ideas are quite orthodox, But it's not what I'd call an easy guy. He's a cold-hearted, opportunity-seeking guy. Alfred has a criminal quality to him, he's a bad guy, he's always been. I see He stole money from the offering box the church authorities kept in the vestibule. Well, now that he's dead, I don't think it's time to speak ill of him." "And," Craddock hesitated, "where's Emma Crackenthorpe?" "Good girl. Calm, we don't always know what she's thinking. She has her own plans, her own ideas, but, she always keeps them in her heart. Her personality is more than you can tell by her attitude and appearance." stronger than imaginable.” "I suppose you know Edmond—his son who was killed in France?" "Yes, I think he's the best of those brothers, good-natured, cheerful, a good boy." "Did you hear that just before his death he was going to marry a French girl, or was already married?" Dr. Morris frowned thoughtfully. "I seem to remember something like that," he said, "but it was a long time ago." "During the war, a very early stage, wasn't it?" "Yes. Ah, if he hadn't died and married a foreign wife, he would regret it all his life." "He may well have done that," Craddock said. He briefly explained recent events in a few sentences. "I remember reading in the newspaper that a woman's body was found in a sarcophagus. It turned out to be in Loseijin Villa." "And we have reason to believe that the woman was the widow of Edmund Crackenthorpe." "Ah, ah, that seems incredible. It's not like real life, it's more like the plot of a novel. But who wants to kill the poor woman-I mean, how can that happen with Does it have anything to do with the arsenic poisoning at Rosezin Villa?" "There are two possibilities," said Craddock, "but both are far-fetched. Someone may be greedy and want to take Josiah Crackenthorpe's property for himself." "He'd be a fool to do that," said Dr. Morris, "and end up paying top income tax on this property gain."

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