Chapter 5 5

.5. The girl who entered the room involuntarily was plain-looking, with a frightened expression on her face.Despite her stature, she looked a little scruffy in her smart fuchsia uniform. She immediately looked at him imploringly and said: "I didn't do anything. Really nothing. I had absolutely no knowledge of it." Neil said earnestly, "It's all right." His voice changed slightly, to a pleasanter, more even tone.He wanted to reassure the panicked Gladys. He added: "Sit here. I just want to know about breakfast this morning." "I didn't do anything at all."

"Hey, you made the breakfast, didn't you?" "Yes, I did it." As if unwilling to admit even this.She looked guilty and frightened, but Inspector Neal was used to this kind of witness.He wanted to reassure her, so he happily asked the question: Who will show up first?Who is next? Alan Fortescu was the first to come down to breakfast.She came in just as Crump brought the coffee pot.Then Mrs. Fortescue came downstairs, then Mrs. Val, and finally the host appeared.They feed themselves.Trays of tea, coffee and hot food are placed on the side tables. Neil didn't ask her for any information that he didn't know before.Food and drink were as described by Mary Douf.The host, Mrs. Fortescue, and Miss Ellen had coffee, and Miss Val had tea.Everything is about the same as usual.

Neil asked her about herself, and she answered more bluntly.She worked first as a servant in a private house and then as a waitress in several cafes.Later, she wanted to return to the private residence to serve again. She came to "Yew Xiaozhu" in September, and it has been more than two months. "How do you like it?" "Not bad, I suppose." She added: "The feet won't be sore--but less freedom. . . . " "Tell me about Mr. Fortescue's clothes—his suits. Who looks after them? Scrubbing or something?" Gladys seemed a little outraged. "Mr. Crump should be in charge. But he'll probably tell me to."

"Who scrubbed and ironed Mr. Fortescue's clothes today?" "I don't remember which outfit he was wearing. He had too many clothes." "Did you ever find grain in his suit pocket?" "Grain?" She seemed puzzled. "To be more specific, it's rye." "Rye? That's bread, isn't it? A kind of black bread—I always think it tastes bad." "That's rye bread. Rye means the grain itself. Your master has a little in his coat pocket." "In the coat pocket?" "Yes, do you know how it got in your pocket?"

"I'm not sure. I've never seen it." He couldn't ask any more questions.For a moment he wondered if she knew something and wouldn't admit it.She looked embarrassed, trying to protect herself—but he thought it was just a natural fear of the police. At last he sent her away, and she asked: "Is it true? He's dead?" "Yes, he died." "Suddenly, isn't it? I heard they called from the office and said he was ill." "Yes—it counts as an illness." Gladys said, "I once knew a girl who used to have a fit. It happened all the time, really. It used to scare me to death."

This memory seemed to temporarily overwhelm her doubts. Inspector Neil made his way to the kitchen. The hospitality he received was sudden and frightening.A fat woman with a red face walked towards him viciously, holding a rolling pin. She said: "Police, huh! Come and say such things! Tell you, there is no such thing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with what I send into the restaurant.Come and say that I poisoned the host.Whether you are a police officer or not, I will sue you.Bad food has never been served in this house. " It took Inspector Neil a while to appease the big cook.Sergeant Hay grinned and peeped in from the pantry, and Inspector Neal guessed that he had borne the brunt of Mrs. Crump's punching bag.

The phone rang and the fun was interrupted. Neil walked into the foyer and found Mary Douf answering the phone, writing a message on a note.She turned back and said, "It's a telegram." After the phone call, she put down the receiver and handed the note she had just written to the inspector. The place of dispatch is Paris, and the telegram is as follows: "Baytown Heath, Yew, Small, Fortescue, Surrey. Sorry for the delay in your letter. See you tomorrow at teatime. Hope to have roast veal for dinner. Lance." Inspector Neal raised his eyebrows. He said, "So the prodigal son has been called home."