Chapter 3 Section 3

"Is my housekeeper calling?" William asked knowingly so that everyone around could hear. Saini has long been used to these high-society tricks. He looked directly into William's eyes and silently made an exaggerated mouth shape: "Long distance." At the other end of the living room, Jenny Odward was discussing recent royal anecdotes with a man.The newspapers said that Queen Elizabeth's sister, Princess Margaret, had eloped with a divorced Captain Peter Townsend for more than ten days. If they married, the princess would lose her right to inherit the throne.For this kind of topic, Yanni can casually talk about some of the details without paying any attention.While chatting like this, Yanni watched Saini and William whisper, watched William nodded, watched William glanced at her, and then left the living room as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry." Yanni smiled apologetically at the man, got up and followed. The keys of the piano are slowly flowing out of "Full Moon, Empty Arms" under the fingers of Stan Freeman, which is extremely beautiful. After about two minutes, some people heard a "bang", and more people heard Mrs. Odwa's loud quarrel. In short, everyone stopped dancing and drinking, and followed the flow of people. The sound went to the adjacent library. Beside the late Mr. Baker's large desk, the phone was swinging in the air half a foot above the ground.William Woodward's face was flushed, and he was tightly clutching his wife's raised right wrist.On the bookshelf behind them, a cracked oval crystal dish still contained a little scarlet wine, and more liquid was spreading among the fragments of the wine glass at the couple's feet.

Mrs. Baker stepped forward, trying her best to maintain the demeanor that a hostess should have. "Martis, my dear, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault," said William Woodward in a hoarse voice, "that my elbow has somehow knocked over this beautiful plate and disturbed everyone's enjoyment." My wife and I would be very grateful if you would allow us to leave now and go out by the side door in the kitchen...I will contact you in person tomorrow as to how all these damages will be compensated." However, William Woodward failed to keep his promise. Between 2:00 and 2:30 that night, the Oyster Bay Police Station on Long Island received two calls to the police about the same case almost at the same time.First there was a hysterical woman, and the police officer on duty could only barely hear the word "Odwa" from her intermittent cries.Then there was a man who claimed to be "Night Watchman of Odwa Manor".This Steven Smith said that he was awakened by two gunshots in his sleep, and quickly put on his clothes and got out of bed, but the surroundings returned to calm.Steven waited in the dark for at least 20 minutes, and was beginning to wonder if the two noises were his illusion, or a tire burst, or some other irrelevant movement, when he heard a woman's cry from the main building of the manor. "It's definitely in the same direction as the gunshot," Steven said confidently, "Listen, she's still screaming...I don't know what's going on, but there must be trouble, please hurry! hurry!"

"One last question," said the officer on duty, "about what time did you hear the gunshot?" "I have a luminous watch, given by the owner. I read it at the time, and it was 2:07." The officer wrote in the "date" and "time" columns at the top of the watch log: Sunday, October 30, 1955, at 2:07 am. When the police arrived, the Odwa Manor was brightly lit, the driveways, paths, tennis courts, swimming pool...all were covered with snow, only the first floor of the main building where the mournful sounds were heard was hidden in darkness. Steven Smith came forward: "It was Mrs. Odwah's cry. She kept shouting: 'Help me, please help me, it's terrible, it's terrible...'You can Saw her from the window, but I tried and couldn't open the door."

Several policemen helped each other, and sent one of them to the balcony on the second floor, which was as high as a person, and opened the door through the window.