Chapter 13 13

.13. An old lady on a train bought three morning newspapers. After reading each one, she folded them and put them next to each other. All of them showed the same headline.Now that news is not just a short paragraph, not just hiding in the corner of the newspaper.Headlines, plus eye-catching announcements such as "Triple Murder Case of Yeshan Xiaozhu". The old lady sat very straight, looking out of the car window, her mouth was pursed, and her wrinkled old face with rosy whites showed sadness and disapproval.Miss Marple left St. Mary's Ranch by the morning train, changed trains at the feeder station to London, and then took the circular train to the other terminal station in London to Baytown Heath.

After arriving at the station, she called a taxi and asked the driver to take her to "Yew Xiaozhu".Miss Marple was a sweet, innocent, fair-haired old lady, and it was hard to believe how easily she had been allowed into the besieged fortress. Although a large contingent of reporters and photographers was blocked by the police, Miss Marple entered without being questioned, and everyone believed that she was only a relative of the family and could not be otherwise. Miss Marple paid the fare carefully with large and small change, and rang the electric bell at the front door.Crump came to open the door, and Miss Marple gave him a practiced look.She thought to herself: "The eyes are not honest, and they are scared to death."

Crump saw a tall old lady in an old-fashioned tweed coat and skirt, two scarves, and a little felt hat with a feather in it.She held a bag with a large capacity in her hand, and another old suitcase of very good quality was placed beside her.Crump knew she was a lady at a glance, and said: "What, ma'am?" The tone was respectful. Miss Marple said, "Can I see my mistress, please?" Crump stepped back and let her in.He picked up the suitcase and carefully placed it in the hall. He hesitated and said, "Oh, ma'am, I don't know who—" Miss Marple helped her out.

She said, "I've come to talk about the girl who was killed—Grady Martin." "Oh, I see, ma'am. In that case—" He stopped suddenly, and looked at the door of the library, from which a tall young woman came out.He said, "Ma'am, this is Miss Lance Fortescue." Patty came over and met Miss Marple's eyes.Miss Marple was a little taken aback. She hadn't expected to see someone like Patricia Fortescu in this room. The inside of the house was pretty much what she'd imagined, but Patty didn't match the landscape. "It's about Gretty, young mistress," Crump said helpfully.

Patty said hesitantly: "Can you come in here? No one else will disturb you." She led the way into the library, followed by Miss Marple. Patty said, "You don't really want to see anyone, do you? I probably can't help. You know my husband and I just came back from Africa a few days ago. We don't know anything about our family. But I can go to my husband. Sister or sister-in-law come." Miss Marple looked at each other and was very fond of him.She likes a serious and simple temperament.For some reason, she felt sorry for the girl.Miss Marple vaguely felt that the old printed clothes and the background of horses and dogs were more suitable for her than these rich decorations.

Miss Marple had seen many girls of Patty's type at St. Mary's Ranch pony fairs and games, and knew them well.She felt that she hit it off with this sullen girl. Miss Marple took off her gloves carefully, flattened her fingertips and said, "It's actually very simple. You know, I read in the paper that Gretty Martin was killed.I know everything about her.She is from our area.In fact, I trained her to be a maid.Now that this horrible thing happened to her, I thought—oh, I thought I'd see if I could be of any help. " Patty said, "Yes, of course, I see." She really understands.Miss Marple's actions seemed natural to her, and rightly so.

Patty said, "I guess it's a good thing you're here. No one seems to know her parentage. I mean relatives or something." Miss Marple said: "No, of course not. She has no relations at all. She came to my house from an orphanage--Shengxin Orphanage, which is very well run, but lacks financial resources. We try to help the girls over there, try to train them and things like that.Gladys came to my house when she was seventeen, and I taught her how to serve meals, care for silverware, and so on.Of course she didn't stay long, as they all did, she gained some experience, and immediately took up a job in the café.Almost all girls like this.You know, they think that life is freer and more pleasant.Maybe, I really don't know. "

Patty said, "I've never even seen her. Isn't she a pretty girl?" Miss Marple said: "Oh, no, not pretty at all. Adenomatous and blotchy. And she's pathetic stupid." Miss Marple went on thoughtfully: "I miss her Can't make many friends anywhere. She's hot with men, poor kid. But men don't pay much attention to her, and other girls use her a lot." "That sounds pretty brutal," Patty said. Miss Marple said: "Yes, I'm afraid life is cruel. We really don't know what to do with girls like Gretty. They like to go to the movies and things, but they often fantasize that they won't meet them." It's a good thing. It's probably a kind of happiness. But they are always disappointed. I think Gretty is disappointed in the cafe and restaurant life. She didn't meet charming or interesting things, but her feet were too tired .She may have returned to live-in help because of this, do you know how long she has been working here?"

Patty shook his head. "Not very long, I suppose. Only a month or two." Patty paused and continued, "It's a horrible idea that she should be involved in this murder. It doesn't make sense. I guess she saw or noticed something." Miss Marple said softly, "It's the clothespins that I'm really worried about." "clothespin?" "Yes. I read it in the paper. I suppose it's true? Her body was found with a clothespin stuck in her nose." Patty nodded.A blush came over Miss Marple's pink cheeks. "Son, you know, I'm very angry at this. The murderer's attitude is cruel and full of contempt. I can imagine what kind of person a murderer is. To do such a thing! You know, contempt for human dignity is very wicked ——Besides, everyone has already been killed by him.”

"I think I understand what you mean." She stood up. "I think you'd better see Inspector Neil. He's in charge of the case, and here he is. I think you'll like him. He's very human." She shuddered suddenly. "Things are like a horrible nightmare. It makes no sense, it's just crazy, there's no rhythm or sense." "I don't think so, you know, I don't think so," said Miss Marple. Inspector Neil looked tired and haggard.The three murders were followed happily by newspapers all over the country.Seeing that a familiar lawsuit was about to take shape, it suddenly fell through.The ideal suspect, Adele Fortescu, becomes the second victim of the mystery.That night, the Deputy Commissioner called Neil, and the two talked in the middle of the night.

Although Inspector Neil panicked, he felt vaguely convinced.The model of wife and lover was so simple and easy; he had always been skeptical, and now he was justified in his skepticism. The Deputy Commissioner strode up and down the room, frowning, and said, "Things have taken on a different look. Neil, I feel like we're dealing with people who are insane. Kill the husband first, then the wife, but as usual." The circumstances of the crime look like they were done by insiders. It all happened between family members. Someone had breakfast with Fortescu and put 'taciine' in his coffee or food. Someone with Families drink tea together and put potassium cyanide in Adele Fortescue's teacup. This man is trusted to stay undetected and must be part of the family. Which one is it, Neil?" Neil said calmly: "Percival was not at home, so he had to be excluded again, and he had to be excluded again," Inspector Neal repeated. The deputy chief gave him a sharp look.The Inspector's repetition caught his attention. "Neil, what do you think? Say it, buddy." Inspector Neil looked dazed. "It's nothing, sir. It's not an idea. I can only say it's convenient for him." "It's a bit too convenient, huh?" The deputy director thought for a while, then shook his head. "You think he might have made some sort of arrangement? Neil, don't see how it could be. No, I don't see it." He added: "And he is discreet." "Sir, but he's smart." "You don't think it's a woman, do you? But it's a woman according to the signs: Ellen Fortescue or Mrs. Percival. They were there at breakfast, and they were at tea that day. Both of them could do it. They Nothing unusual. Forget it, it may not show up. There may be something special about their past medical records." Inspector Neil didn't answer. He thought of Mary Douf.He had no reason to doubt her, but his thoughts turned in that direction.She had an inexplicable, resentful air—a faint, playful hostility.Such was her attitude after Rex Fortescue's death.What is her attitude now?Her manners and manners were always exemplary.He thought to himself: She wasn't amused anymore, not even hostile, but he wasn't sure if once or twice he caught signs of fear in her.Gretty Martin was to blame for this, really.Glady felt guilty and flustered. He thought it was just a natural fear of seeing the police.He had seen that kind of nervous witness a lot.This time it's not just nervous.Gladys had seen or heard something that aroused suspicion.He thought to himself: Maybe it's a trivial matter, something vague and unclear, she doesn't want to talk about it.Poor little bunny, she will never be able to talk now. There was an old woman at the Yew House who was now face to face with Inspector Neil, and Neal looked into that mild, earnest face.At first he couldn't make up his mind what to do with her, but he quickly made up his mind.Miss Marple must be of use to him.She was upright, with an unimpeachable sense of justice, and, like most old ladies, she had plenty of time and an old maid's appetite for gossip.From the mouth of her servants, and even the women of the Fortescu family, she could find out information that Neil and his policemen could not get.Gossip, speculation, reminiscence, someone's retelling of something someone else said or did...she would pick out the salient ones.So Inspector Neil's attitude is very kind. He said, "Miss Marple, it's very kind of you to come." "Inspector Neil, it's my duty. That girl used to live in my house. I always felt responsible for her.She's a stupid girl, you know. " Inspector Neal gave her a look of common sense. He said, "Yes, exactly." He felt that the other party had gone straight to the heart of the matter. Miss Marple said: "She didn't know what to do—I mean, if something happened, oh my God, I'm so bad at expressing myself." Inspector Neil understood. "She can't tell what's important or what's not, and that's what you mean." "Oh, yes, exactly, Inspector." "You say she's stupid—" Inspector Neal paused. Miss Marple took up the subject. "She's easy to trust. If a girl like this has any savings, it's bound to be taken by a swindler. Of course, she never had any, because she's always spending money on clothes that don't fit." "How about the boyfriend?" asked the Inspector. Miss Marble said: "She wanted a boyfriend very much. I think that's why it was hard for her to leave St. Mary's Ranch. There's a lot of competition there. There are too few men. She had hoped for the fish-carrying youth. Fred said nice things to every girl, but nothing in particular. Poor Glady was so sad. But I heard she got a boyfriend at last?" Inspector Neil nodded. "Looks like. I heard the name was Albert Evans. She seems to have met him at some summer camp. He didn't give her a ring, so it could all be a fabrication. She told the cook that he was a mining engineer." .” Miss Marple said: "It seems impossible, but I dare say he told her. She believes everything. You don't connect him with the murder at all?" Inspector Neil shook his head. "No, I don't think there was any connection of that kind. He doesn't seem to have come to her. He sent her an occasional postcard, usually from the harbor—probably from a fourth-class pilot on a ship on the Baltic line. " Miss Marple said, "Well, I'm glad she's had a little affair. Now that her life has died like this—" She tightened her mouth, and said, in the same tone she had just spoken to Patty Fortescue, "Inspector, you You know, I'm very, very angry--especially about the clothes-pin. Inspector, that's really wicked." Inspector Neil watched her with interest. "I know what you mean, Miss Marple," he said. Miss Marple coughed apologetically. "Don't know—I guess I'm presumptuous—wonder if I can assist you in my humble and feminine way. Inspector Neal, this murderer is very bad, and the villain must be punished." Inspector Neil said sadly: "Miss Marple, this belief is not very popular today. I don't disagree with your opinion. " Miss Marple tentatively said: "Is there a hotel near the station, or a 'golf hotel'? I believe the house is inhabited by a Miss Lambsburton who is very interested in foreign missions." Inspector Neil looked at Miss Marple appraisingly. He said: "Yes, perhaps you're right. I haven't had much success with the old lady." Miss Marple said, "Inspector Neil, you're very kind. I'm glad you don't think of me as a thrill-seeker." Inspector Neil suddenly smiled unexpectedly.He thought to himself that Miss Marple was really different from the Nemesis in the minds of ordinary people.But he thought that the other party might be just that kind of person. Miss Marple said: "The newspaper accounts are often sensational, but I'm afraid they are not very accurate." She looked at Inspector Neal questioningly. "It would be nice if we could be sure of only dealing with unexaggerated facts." Neil said: "There is always exaggeration in the news. Stripping away the sensational details that shouldn't be there, the truth is roughly as follows: Mr. Fortescu died of 'taciine' poison in his office. 'Tassine' is made from the berries and leaves of the yew tree. " "Very convenient," said Miss Marple. Inspector Neil said: "Possibly, but we have no evidence for that. I mean, so far..." He emphasized the remark because he thought Miss Marple might be able to help in that regard.If anyone in the family had the juice or powder of the yew fruit, Miss Marple might have picked up the clues.She was one of those old women who could make firebrew, tonics, and herbs.She should know how to prepare and administer it. "Where's Mrs. Fortescue?" "Mrs. Fortescue was having tea with her family in the library. The last person to leave the room and the coffee table was her stepdaughter, Miss Ellen Fortescue. She said that when she left, Mrs. Fortescue was looking for herself A cup of tea was poured. Twenty minutes or half an hour later, Miss Douf, the housekeeper, came in to collect the tray. Mrs. Fortescue was still sitting on the sofa, but she was dead. She had a glass a quarter full beside her. Tea, potassium cyanide in the residue." "I believe the toxicity was immediate," Miss Marple said. "good." Miss Marple muttered, "Such a dangerous thing. Some people use it for beehives, but I'm always very, very careful." Inspector Neil said: "You're quite right. There's a pack in the gardener's shed here." Marple said, "It's very convenient again." She added, "Has Mrs. Fortescue had anything?" "Oh, yes. Their refreshments are plentiful." "Cake, I suppose? Bread and butter? Buns maybe? Jam? Honey? " "Yes, honey and buns, chocolate cake and swiss rolls, and a few other dishes." He looked at her curiously. "Miss Marple, the potassium cyanide is in the teacup." "Oh, yes, yes, I understand. I'm just going to get the whole picture. Significant, don't you think? " He looked at her slightly puzzled.Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. "Inspector Neil, what about the third murder?" "Oh, the facts seem pretty clear on that, too. Gretty carried the tea tray into the room, then carried the second tray into the hall, and left it there. She had apparently been in a trance all day. No one saw her after that." Mrs. Crump, the cook, decided that the girl had slipped out to have a good night, and didn't tell anyone. I think she saw the girl in her nice nylon stockings and her best shoes. But she was wrong. Little The girl must have suddenly remembered that the clothes on the clothesline hadn't come in yet; she ran out to collect them, and just took half of them off, and someone strangled her neck with silk stockings while she wasn't paying attention—oh, that's it." "Someone from outside?" said Miss Marple. Inspector Neil said: "Maybe, but it could be someone inside. Someone has been waiting for the little girl to be alone. The little girl was nervous and flustered when we first questioned him, but we didn't see the importance of it." .” Miss Marple exclaimed, "Oh, how could you possibly notice? Ordinary people are often embarrassed and guilty when questioned by the police." "Yes. Not this time, Miss Marple. I think Gladys saw someone do something that she felt needed explaining. It didn't have to be obvious, or she would have said it. She It must have been disclosed to the person concerned, who felt that Gladys would bring danger." Miss Marple said to herself, "So Glady was strangled with a clothespin stuck up her nose." "Yes, it sucks. It doesn't take people seriously. It's an unnecessarily pompous act." Miss Marple shook her head. "It's not necessarily unnecessary. The whole thing forms a pattern, doesn't it?" Inspector Neil looked at her curiously. "Miss Marple, I don't quite understand you. What do you mean by 'pattern'?" Miss Marple immediately panicked. "Well, I mean look--I mean, coherently, you see--well, one can't escape the facts, can one?" "I don't quite understand." "Oh, I mean - first Mr. Fortescue - Rex Fortescue - was killed in the city office. Then Mrs. Fortescue sitting in the library drinking tea , eating honey bread. Then poor Gretty had a clothespin stuck up her nose. That pointed out the whole case. Charming Mrs. Lance Fortescudor told me there was no rhythm or sense in it, and I But disagree, what we feel is the rhythm, isn't it?" Inspector Neil said slowly, "I don't think—" Miss Marple hurried on: "Inspector Neil, you are about thirty-five or sixteen years old, aren't you? Then I think you probably had an aversion to nursery rhymes when you were young. But if a person has listened to "Mother Goose" since childhood and grew up--it means a lot Don't you? What I want to know is..." Miss Marple paused, and seemed to muster up her courage to go on, "I know it's rude of me to say that to you." "Miss Marple, whatever you want to say, please say it." "Oh, you're very kind. I will. I'm being rude, I know I'm old and my head is not clear, and I dare say our ideas are of little value. I was wondering if you looked into the black thrush business?"