Chapter 10 chapter Ten

"Do you believe it?" Vera asked. She and Philip Lombard were sitting together on the windowsill of the drawing room.Outside the house was pouring rain and strong winds.The wind and rain pressed against the windows together. Philip Lombard tilted his head to one side before answering, and said: "You mean to ask me if old man Wargrave has a point in saying that the murderer was one of us?" "yes." Philip Lombard said slowly: "That's hard to say. Logically, you know, he's right, but..." Vera finished for him what was on his lips: "However, this seems so unbelievable!"

Philip Lombard made a face. "It's unbelievable at all! But once MacArthur died, one thing is indisputable. Now, there is no question of accidents or suicides. It is clearly murder. So far, there have been three cases in total." Vera couldn't help trembling and said: "It's like a nightmare, I always feel that this kind of thing can't happen!" He said empathetically: "I understand. Asleep and asleep, there was a knock on the door, and then morning tea was brought in!" Vera said: "Oh, if only it were so, how nice it would be!" Philip Lombard said solemnly:

"Unfortunately, it won't come true, we are all in this dream! And, from now on, we have to be very vigilant." Vera lowered her voice and said: "If—if it were one of us—who do you think it would be?" Philip Lombard smiled suddenly, showing his teeth, and said: "I understand you're excluding both of us? Yes, that's all right, I know very well that I'm not a murderer, and I don't suspect there's anything wrong with you, Vera. You really make me feel You're the most steady, calmest girl I've ever met! I guarantee you're sane."

Vera showed a faint wry smile and said: "Thank you." He said: "Come, Miss Vera Cleathorne, are you not going to pay me back?" Vera hesitated for a moment, then said: "You know that you said it yourself, you don't advocate that you have to be a vegetarian, chant Buddha, and abide by the law in this world. Don't worry about it, anyway, I can't see that you will be like—like the person who recorded the record." Lombard said: "Exactly. If I have to kill a bunch of people, it's just to get myself out. I'm not good at large-scale reckonings like this. Well, then we don't count ourselves, and we can talk together Five other fellow inmates. Tell me which one is the unknown Yo. N. Owen. Well, I guess, but there's no basis for it. I say it's Wargrave!"

Vera was taken aback.She thought for a minute or two before saying, "Why?" "It's hard to say. But let's start with the fact that he's an old man who's been presiding over court for a long time. That is to say, he's got to be God on a high for a few months in any given year. Over time, sure. He thinks he is really a god. Power over everything, life and death are up to him. It is entirely possible that he will go further and further away on a whim, and want to be a police officer and enforce the law for the sky." Vera said slowly: "Yeah, I think it's possible..."

Lombard said: "If you want to tell me, which one do you say it is?" Vera replied without hesitation: "Doctor Armstrong." Lombard whistled softly: "The doctor, eh? I tell you, I put him last." Vera shook her head: "Oh, no! Both murders were by poison. Isn't that enough to say that the doctor was involved? And you have to consider the fact that the only thing we're absolutely sure of is that Mrs. Rogers was given the sleeping pills. " Lombard agrees with this: "Yes, that's right." Vera persisted: "If the doctor is playing tricks, it is difficult for ordinary people to find out. Moreover, doctors often make mistakes because they are too tired and overly nervous."

Philip Lombard says: "Yeah. But I doubt he'll be General MacArthur. He's short on time. I'll just run away for a while—no way, unless he runs like a rabbit every time. I don't believe he will." I have had this kind of training for a long time, and I can't even tell that I did it so neatly." Vera said: "He didn't do it at that time. He had another chance later." "when?" "While he went to fetch the general for lunch." Philip whistled again very leisurely, and said: "So you think he did it then? That's got to be a little cool!"

Vera is a little impatient: "What are you afraid of? He is the only person here who understands medicine. He can say that this person has been dead for at least an hour. Who can refute him?" Philip looked at Vera thoughtfully. "With you," he said, "that's a brilliant idea, I doubt..." "Who is he, Mr. Blore? That's all I want to know. Who is he?" Rogers' face twitched, his hands clutching the shoes he was polishing. Former Inspector Blore said: "Yes, man, that's the question!" "One of us. That's what your lord judge said. Which one? That's all I want to know. Who's the fiend in human form?"

"That," said Blore, "is what we all want to know." Rogers said shrewdly: "But you count, Mr. Blore. You count?" "I may have something," said Blore slowly, "but I'm far from sure. Maybe I'm still wrong. I can only say that if I'm right, the man in question The characters are quite poised—quite poised indeed." Rogers wiped off the cold sweat from his forehead, gasped and said: "It's like a nightmare, it is!" Blore looked at him curiously and said: "You have some opinion yourself, Rogers?" The butler shook his head, and said in a rough voice:

"I don't know, I don't know at all. That's why I'm frightened to death, if only I knew..." Dr. Armstrong said with great emotion: "We must get out of here—we must—must! We must go all out!" Mr Justice Wargrave looked thoughtfully out of the smoking-room window, twisting the lacing of his spectacles, and said: "It's not when I'm showing off my ability to know the sky, but I have to say that it's unlikely that there will be a ship within 24 hours. Even if they have learned about our situation, they have to look at the situation within 24 hours. From now on, the wind will stop.”

Dr. Armstrong bowed his head, put his head in his hands, and moaned: "Could it be that during this period, we just lie in bed and wait for someone to kill us all?" "I hope not," said Mr Justice Wargrave, "I intend to do everything to prevent it." A thought flashed through Dr. Armstrong's mind.He felt that old people like judges had a much stronger desire to survive than young people.He has practiced medicine for many years and has a deep understanding of this.He was perhaps twenty years younger than the judge, but infinitely inferior in the spirit of self-preservation. Mr Justice Wargrave was also thinking: "Lie down and die! These doctors are all the same--no brains. It's really vulgar." The doctor said: "Three have already been reimbursed. Forgot?" "I can't forget it. But don't you forget that they were all unprepared and caught off guard, but we had a warning in advance." Dr. Armstrong said sadly: "What can we do? Sooner or later—" "I think," said Mr. Justice Wargrave, "that there is something we can do." Armstrong said: "Which one it was, we don't even have an idea." The judge touched his chin and whispered: "But you have to know, I don't think so." Armstrong stared at him and said: "You mean you know?" Mr Justice Wargrave said cautiously: "As for definite evidence, such as would be necessary for a trial, I admit that I have none. But when the events are put together, it seems to me that there is such a person, it is simply too obvious. Indeed, That's what I thought." Armstrong still stared at him and said: "I do not understand." Miss Brent was upstairs in her bedroom. She picked up her Bible, went to the window and sat down. She opened the Bible, but after hesitating for a while, she put the Bible down again, walked to the dressing table, and took out a black-faced notebook from a drawer. She opened her notebook and began to write: "A terrible thing has happened. General MacArthur is dead (his cousin married Elsie MacPherson). He was undoubtedly murdered. After lunch, the judge gave a very interesting address to the group. He thought The murderer is among us. That means that one of us works for the devil. I have doubted that for a long time. Which one? They are all asking themselves, but I alone know... " She sat there without moving for a while.Her eyes gradually blurred, and her eyes were full of confusion.The pencil dangled between her fingers as if someone was drunk, and she wrote in big letters crookedly and sparsely: The murderer's name was Beatrice Taylor. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, she was startled and woke up.He looked down at his notebook.With a yell, she crossed out all the messy words on the last line. She said softly: "Did I write it? Was it me? I must be going crazy..." The storm got worse.The wind howled around the building. Everyone was in the living room, huddled together in a daze, and looked at each other furtively. When Rogers walked in with a tea tray, they all jumped up. "Draw the window shades? It'll be more comfortable." After everyone agreed, he drew the curtains and turned on the light, and the room did seem much more comfortable.The cloud of gloom was erased a little.Surely, by tomorrow, the storm will have passed, and men will come—and boats will come...   Vera Claythorne says: "Would you like some tea, Miss Brent?" The elderly woman replied: "No, my dear, you pour it. The teapot is too heavy. Besides, I've messed up two clumps of gray wool again, and it's annoying me." Vera went to the tea table.The sound of the collision of porcelain sounds very happy.There was a little more homely feeling in the house. "Tea! Home tea every day! Thank God!" said Philip Lombard amusedly.Blore also made up his mind.Armstrong told another amusing story.Mr Justice Wargrave, who hated tea, sipped it with relish. In this relaxed and harmonious atmosphere, Rogers walked in. But he had a bitter face, and he was nervous when he spoke, and his words didn't match his words. "I'm sorry, sir, does anyone know where the curtains in the bathroom are?" Lombard looked up sharply: "The curtains in the bathroom? What on earth are you talking about, Rogers?" "No, sir, nowhere to be seen. I'm drawing curtains here and there, and I can't find that curtain in the bathroom." Mr Justice Wargrave asked: "Are you still there this morning?" "Ah, yes, sir." Blore said: "What kind of curtains?" "Fuchsia shimmering silk, sir. Just goes with the red tiles in the bathroom." Lombard said: "So it's gone?" "It's gone, sir." Everyone, look at me, and I look at you. Blore said solemnly: "Got--have to ask--what's going on? Incredible--it's all inexplicable, really. Come on, it's no big deal, you can't kill with a glittering silk curtain. Forget it." Rogers said: "Yes, sir, thank you, sir." He went out, closing the door behind him. In the room, gloom and mist rose again. Everyone looked at each other furtively again. Supper was served, it was done, it was done.A simple dinner, mostly canned. Afterwards, the tension in the foyer became too much to bear.At nine o'clock Emily Brent got up and said: "I'm going to bed." Vera also said: "I'm going to bed too." The two women climbed the stairs, and Lombard and Blore followed.They stood on the landing and watched the two women go into their respective rooms and close the doors.They heard the latch and the turning of the key. Blore said amusedly: "There's no need to tell them to lock the door!" Lombard said: "Well, in any case, they've had a peaceful night!" He came downstairs and another followed him. An hour later, the remaining four also went to bed.They went upstairs together.Rogers was setting the table in the dining room for breakfast the next day when he watched them go upstairs and heard them stop at the upper landing. It was the voice of the judge who spoke: "Everyone, there is no need for me to tell everyone to lock the doors." Blore said: "Besides, it's better to put a chair under the doorknob. It's still possible to open the lock from the outside." Lombard muttered: "My dear Blore, your trouble is that you know too much!" The judge said solemnly: "Good night, then, everyone! I wish you all a safe and sound tomorrow morning. Good-bye." Rogers ran out of the dining room and hurried up half a flight of stairs. He saw four figures disappearing into the four door openings, and heard the sound of all four door locks being locked and all four bolts being inserted firmly. "No problem." He nodded and said in a low voice. Rogers returned to the restaurant.OK, everything is ready for tomorrow morning.His eyes fell on the full-length mirror inlaid in the middle of the wall, and stayed for a while on the seven little porcelain figurines. In an instant, a little joy suddenly appeared on his face. He murmured: "I'd like to see who can do something wrong tonight." He went to the other end of the room, locked the door that led to the kitchenette, went through another door into the hall, turned back, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. Then he turned off the light and hurried upstairs to his new bedroom. There was only one place in the house where people could hide, and that was the tall wardrobe, and he checked it immediately.Then, lock and bolt the door and get ready for sleep. He said to himself: "No more Indian tricks tonight. I've taken care of it all..."