Chapter 8 chapter eight

A maid opened the door to the opposite room for us.When she saw Taverner she looked startled and somewhat disdainful. "You want to see the mistress?" "Yes, please lead the way." She led us into a large living room and then withdrew. The layout of this room is the same as that of the living room downstairs.The curtains were richly colored chintz and striped silks.A portrait above the fireplace caught my eye--not just because it was done by a master, but because of the gripping face of its subject. It was a portrait of a little old man with piercing black eyes.He wore a black Swan City skullcap, his head tucked into his shoulders, but the man's vibrancy radiated from the canvas, and his twinkling eyes seemed to be looking straight at me.

"That's him," said Inspector Taverner ungrammatically. "Drawn by Augustus. Quite a character, isn't it?" "Yes," I said, feeling inappropriate. I now understand what Miss de Haviland meant when she said the house seemed empty without him, and that was the dwarf who built the crooked, misshapen house--without him the crooked house lost its purpose. significance. "That one over there was painted by his first wife, Sargent," said Taverner. I examine the portrait on the wall between the windows of the two houses.Like many of Sargent's paintings, it has a certain grim taste.The exaggerated length of the face, I think - a bit reminiscent of a horse's face - is an indisputable correction.This is a typical portrait of a British lady—a country lady.A pretty, but a little lifeless, most unsuitable wife for the energetic little man in the portrait that hangs over the mantelpiece.

The door opened, and Sergeant Lamb stepped in. "I've done my best with the servant, sir," he said. "Nothing." Taverner sighed. Sergeant Lamb took out his notebook, retreated to a corner of the room, and sat down humbly. The door opened again, and in came Aristide Leonides' second wife. She was wearing black clothes—very expensive black clothes, with a collar that reached to her neck and sleeves that reached to her wrists. She was wrapped in black.She had a lounging walk, and the black dress suited her well.She had a fairly pretty face, and a decent head of brown hair in a slightly too elaborate style.Her face was well made up and she was wearing lipstick, but it was obvious that she had just cried.She wore a necklace of large pearls, a large emerald ring on one hand, and a large ruby ​​ring on the other.

Another thing I noticed about her was the fear on her face. "Good morning, Mrs. Leonides," said Taverner quietly. "Sorry to have to trouble you again." She said in a flat voice: "I think it's impossible." "You know that, don't you, Mrs Leonides, if you wish to have your lawyer present it is perfectly lawful." I don't know if she understood the meaning of those words.Evidently she didn't understand, and she just said, a little sullenly: "I don't like Mr. Gaskill. I don't want him." "You can get a lawyer yourself, Mrs Leonides."

"Is it necessary? I don't like lawyers, they confuse me." "It's entirely up to you," Taverner said, with an automatic smile. "So, shall we continue?" Sergeant Lamb licked the tip of his pencil.Brenda Leonides sat down on the sofa facing Taverner. "Have you found anything?" she asked. I noticed her fingers nervously working the trim of her dress. "We can now definitively say that your husband was poisoned to death by eserin." "You mean those eye drops killed him?" "It seems quite clear that the last time you gave Mr Leonides the injection it was eserin and not insulin."

"But I don't know. I had nothing to do with it. Really, Mr. Inspector." "Then someone must have deliberately replaced insulin with eye drops." "What an evil thing!" "Yes, Mrs Leonides." "You think—someone did it on purpose? Or accidentally? It can't be—a joke?" Taverner said smoothly: "We don't think it's a joke, Mrs Leonides." "It must be some servant." Taverner didn't answer. "Must be, I don't see anyone else doing that." "Are you sure? Come to think of it, Mrs. Leonides. Don't you have the slightest opinion? No one harbors malice? No quarrel? No envy?"

She still stared at him with those big eyes of contempt. "I don't know at all," she said. "You said, you went to the movies that afternoon?" "Yeah - I'll be back at 6:30 - it's time for the insulin injection - I - I - give him the injection as usual, and he - he's acting weird. I freak out - I Run to Roger in a hurry—I told you all last time. Do I have to repeat it?" Her voice rose and became hysterical. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Leonides. May I speak to Mr Brown now?" "Talk to Lawrence? Why? He doesn't know anything."

"I still want to talk to him." She looked at him with wide eyes suspiciously. "Eustace is learning Latin from him in the class. Do you want him here?" "No—we'll go find him." Taverner went out quickly.The sergeant and I followed behind him. "You stunned her, sir," said Sergeant Lamb. Taverner grunted.He led the way up a few steps and followed a passage into a large room overlooking the garden.A blond young man of about thirty and a handsome tanned sixteen-year-old boy were sitting at a table. We go through the door and they look up.Sophia's brother Eustace looked at me, and Laurence Brown fixed Inspector Taverner with troubled eyes.

I've never seen anyone so completely paralyzed with fear.He stood up, then sat down again.He said in an almost mouse-squeaking voice: "Oh—er—good morning, Mr. Inspector." "Morning," said Taverner briefly. "Can I talk to you?" "Yes, of course. It's an honor, at least—" Eustace stood up. "Do you want me to leave, Inspector?" His voice was cheerful, with a hint of arrogance. "We—our class can continue later," said the tutor. Eustace strode toward the door with no one there.His walking posture was a little stiff, and just as he was going through the door, he met my gaze, stretched out his index finger to make a gesture across the neck, and grinned.Then close the door casually.

"There, Mr. Brown," said Taverner. "The assays are quite clear. Mr. Leonides' death was caused by Iserin." "I—you mean—was Mr. Leonides really poisoned? I've been hoping—" "He was poisoned," said Taverner briefly. "Someone switched insulin for Iserin eye drops." "I can't believe it...it's unbelievable." "The question is, who has a motive?" "No one. No one at all!" The young man's voice rose excitedly. "You don't want your lawyer here?" Taverner asked. "I don't have a lawyer, I don't want a lawyer. I have nothing to hide—nothing..."

"And you are quite aware that what you say will be recorded." "I'm innocent—I assure you, I'm innocent." "I didn't say you weren't." Tavern paused. "Mrs. Leonides is much younger than her husband, is she not?" "I—I think so—oh, I mean, yes." "She must feel lonely sometimes?" Lawrence Brown made no answer.He licked his parched lips with his tongue. "Having a companion of her age living here must make her feel good?" "I—no, not at all—I mean—I don't know." "In my opinion, the attachment between you should be quite natural." Young people protested violently. "No! No! There's no such thing! I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that! Mrs Leonides has always been very good to me and I have great - great respect for her - that's all, I can assure you , that's all. It's ridiculous to suggest that! Ridiculous! I'm not going to kill anyone--or tamper with a pill bottle--or anything like that. I'm very sensitive and highly neurotic. I ──The mere thought of killing someone is like a nightmare to me──I have religious reasons against killing. Instead, I do some hospital work─seeking boilers─very strenuous work─I do No more - they put me in education. I'm here to teach Eustace and Josephine to the best of my ability - very bright kids, but difficult to handle. Everyone has been very nice to me - Leo Mr. Knights, Mrs. Leonides, and Miss de Haviland. And now this dreadful thing has happened . . . and you suspect me—I—of murder!" Inspector Taverner eyed him slowly and with interest. "I didn't say that," he said. "But you think that, and I know you do! They all think that, and they look at me like that, and I—I can't tell you any more, I'm sick." He hurried out.Taverner slowly turned his head to look at me. "Well, what do you think of him?" "He was terrified." "Yes, I know, but is he a murderer?" "If you ask me," said Sergeant Lamb, "he wouldn't have the guts." "He's not going to smash someone's head off or shoot someone," agreed the inspector general. "But in this particular case, what needs to be done? It's just moving the hands and feet of the medicine bottle... It's just helping a very old man to leave this world in a less painful way." "Special euthanasia," said the inspector. "Then, perhaps after a reasonable period of time, a man who has inherited a net net of one hundred thousand pounds after tax has the same amount of property, with all sorts of pearls, rubies, emeralds as big as eggs The same woman gets married!" "Ah—" Taverner sighed. "It's all supposition and speculation! Yes, I managed to frighten him, but that doesn't prove anything. If he was innocent, he'd be frightened just the same. And anyway, I doubt he did it." .more likely the woman—just why on earth didn't she throw away or flush that insulin vial?" He turned to the sergeant. "Is there no testimony of any ambiguous behavior between them on the servant's side?" "The maid said they were in love with each other." "On what basis?" "She noticed the way he looked at her as she poured him coffee." "What kind of evidence is this? It won't go to court at all! Is there really no frivolous behavior?" "No one has seen it." "I'm sure they'd see if there was anything. You know, I'm starting to believe there's really nothing shady about them." He looked at me. "Go back and talk to her. I want to know your impression of her." Half reluctantly, half interested, I leave.