Chapter 3 3

(three) Mrs. Hubbard came up the steps and inserted the key into the keyhole on the door of No. 26 Hickory Road.Just as the door opened, a burly young man with fiery red hair followed her up the steps. "Hi, Mom," he said.Rain Bateson usually called her that.He was a friendly fellow with a Cockney accent and no sense of inferiority. "Go out for a stroll?" "I'm going out to tea, Mr. Bateson. Don't delay me. I'm late." "Today I butchered a lovely corpse," said Wren? "Don't be so horrible, you nasty child. A lovely corpse, indeed! The thought makes me shudder."

Ryan Bateson laughed. "It's nothing to Celia," he said. "I stopped by the hospital pharmacy. To tell you about a dead body, I said. Her face was as white as a sheet. What do you think, Mother Hubbard?" "I don't wonder at that," said Mrs. Hubbard. "It's frightening to think about! Celia probably thought you meant real dead bodies." "What do you mean - real dead bodies? What do you think our dead bodies are? Synthetic?" A young man with long, disheveled hair stepped out of a room on the right, and said like a bumblebee: "Oh, just you. I thought it was at least a team of big men."

"Hope it didn't put your nerves on edge, I guess not." "It's the same as usual," said Nigel Chapman, going back to the room. "Little flowers in our greenhouse," Wren said. "Stop bickering, you two," said Mrs. Hubbard. "Good temper, this is what I like, and give and take. The burly young man grinned tenderly at her. Just then a girl came downstairs and said: "Oh, Mrs. Hubbard, Mrs. Nicoletis was in her room and said she would see you soon." Mrs. Hubbard sighed and started up the stairs.The tall, dark-skinned girl who sent the message stood against the wall to let her pass.Rain Bateson, taking off his raincoat, said:

"What's the matter, Valerie? Is it time for Mother Hubbard's regular briefing?" The girl shrugged her thin, graceful shoulders.She went downstairs and across the hall. "This place is getting more like a madhouse every day," she said over her shoulder. She said through a door on the right.She walks with that graceful pride that professional models don't have to work hard for. No. 26 Hickory Road is actually two houses, No. 24 and No. 26 are connected together.The first floor is divided into a living room and a large dining room, and there are two bathrooms and a small office at the back of the house.Two split staircases lead to the upper floors which remain separate.The girl's bedroom is on the right wing, and Nanhai is on the left wing, which is the original No. 24.

Mrs Nicoletis's living room was kept very hot.The large electric stove was turned on to the maximum, and the windows were closed.Mrs. Nicoletis was sitting and smoking on a sofa surrounded by a lot of dirty silk and velvet cushions.She was a large, dark-skinned woman.Still good looking, with a grumpy mouth and big brown eyes. "Ah! Here you come," Mrs. Nicoletis said in a way that sounded accusatory. Mrs. Hubbard, who was of Lemon blood, was unmoved. "Well," she said bitterly, "I'm here and my friend told me you really want to see me." "Yes, I do want to see you. This is ridiculous!"

"What absurdity?" "These bills! Your accounts!" Mrs. Nicoletis conjured a stack of papers from under a cushion with the gesture of a successful magician. "What are we feeding these poor students? Delicacy?" "Young people have good appetites," said Mrs. Hubbard. "Here they have a good breakfast and a decent dinner - basic but nutritious. It's all very affordable." "Economy? How dare you say that to me? When I'm about to be eaten up?" "You make a pretty good profit, Mrs. Nicoletis, and it's a little too expensive for a student."

"But isn't my place always full? When did I have to apply for more than three times to get a vacancy here?" "It's mostly because the meals here are delicious and plentiful. Young people have to eat right." "Pooh! What a horrible sum these sums are. It's the Italian cook and her husband. They're messing with you about the vegetable money." "Oh no, they won't, Mrs. Nicoletis. I assure you, no foreigner can fool me." "Then sprinkle yourself—you're exploiting me." "I won't let you say that," said Mrs. Hubbard, in the tone an old-fashioned butler might use against a particularly crude charge. "It's not good to say that, and it will get you in trouble one day."

"Ah!" Mrs. Nicoletis tossed a stack of bills into the air theatrically, and scattered them all over the floor.Mrs. Hubbard pressed her lips together and leaned over to pick them up. "You pissed me off," her employer yelled. "Perhaps," said Mrs. Hubbard, "but it's not good for you to get excited like that. Losing your temper is bad for blood pressure." "Do you admit that these totals are higher than last week?" "Of course. Lampson's had some good auction stuff. I took my chance and bought it. Next week's total will be below the average."

"You explain everything so well." "Here you go," said Mrs. Hubbard, placing a stack of bills neatly on the table. "Anything else?" "That American girl, Sally Finch, she talked about leaving -- I didn't want her to go. She was a Fulbright student. She would bring students who were on the same scholarship to live here. She Must stay." "What reason does she have to leave?" "How do I remember? Not a real reason. I can see it. I always knew." Mrs. Hubbard nodded thoughtfully.On that she was willing to believe Mrs. Nicoletis.

"Sally never said anything to me," she said. "But you'll talk to her, won't you?" "Yes, of course." "If it's because of these black students, these Indians, these niggas -- then let them all go? understand?Black and white people draw the line, they Americans are very focused on this -- it is important to me that Americans --? As for the niggers - go away now! " "Not when I'm in charge here," said Mrs. Hubbard coldly. "Anyway, you're wrong. There wasn't that feeling among the students, and Sally certainly wasn't. She and Mr. Akibumble used to eat together?

Fan, no one can be more peaceful than him. " "Then it's because of the communists—you know what Americans do to communists. Nigel Chapman—he's a communist." "I doubt it." "Yes. You should have heard what he said that night." "Nigel can say anything if it's annoying." "You've done it to them all. Dear Mrs. Hubbard, you're wonderful!" "Powder first, then jam," said Mrs. Hubbard. "what?" "It's nothing. Don't worry. I'll do my best." She interrupted her series of thank you words and left the living room. Yet Mrs. Hubbard was restless.As soon as she stepped into her parlor door, a tall girl stood up and said: "I want to talk to you for a few minutes, okay?" "Of course, Elizabeth." Mrs. Hubbard was a little surprised.Elizabeth Joneston was a girl from the West Indies who studied law.She was studious, ambitious, very lonely and socially withdrawn.She had always seemed particularly calm and able, and Mrs. Hubbard had always regarded her as one of the most satisfactory pupils in the house. She was also acting very calm now, but Mrs. Hubbard heard a slight tremor in her voice, although the dark face was quite calm. "Is there a problem with your body?" "Yes. Will you come with me to my room?" "Wait a minute." Mrs. Hubbard dropped her coat and gloves, and followed the girl out of the room and up the stairs.The girl's room is on the top floor.She opened the front and walked to a table by the window. "These are my research notes," she said. "Represents months of hard work. What do you see?" Mrs. Hubbard gasped for breath. Ink spilled on the table, ran over the notes, and soaked the paper.Mrs. Hubbard touched it with her fingertips, still wet. She knowingly asked: "You didn't spill the ink yourself, did you?" "No. It was knocked over while I was out." "Do you think it's Mrs. Biggers—" Mrs. Biggers was the cleaning woman in charge of the top floor. "Not Mrs. Biggs. The ink isn't even mine. Mine's on the bedside shelf untouched. Somebody brought it here on purpose." "What an evil--a cruel thing." "Yes, it's a bad thing." The girl spoke quite calmly, but Mrs. Hubbard was not guilty of underestimating her feelings. "Oh, Elizabeth, I don't know what to say. I'm shocked, and I'll do my best to find out who did this evil thing. You don't have any opinion yourself?" The girl immediately replied: "It's green ink, you saw it." "Well, I noticed." "It's not unusual to have a green ink. I know someone here who uses it. Nigel Chapman." "Nigel? You think Nigel would do such a thing?" "I don't think so--no. But he writes letters and takes notes in green ink." "I'll have to ask. I'm sorry that something like this happened in this house, Elizabeth. I can only tell you that I'll do my best to name it." "Thank you, Mrs. Hubbard, and—something else—isn't it?" "Yes—er—yes." Mrs. Hubbard came out of the room and made for the stairs.But when he was about to go downstairs, he stopped suddenly, turned around and walked along the corridor to a room at the end.She knocked on the door, and from inside came Miss Sally Finch's voice calling her in. It was a delightful room, and Sally Finch herself, with her cheerful red hair, was a delightful girl. She held out an open box of sweets and said vaguely: "The candy from home, eat some." "Thank you, Sally. Not now. I'm bothered." She paused. "Do you have Elizabeth? What happened to Joneston? " "What happened to Black Beth?" It was an endearing nickname, one that Elizabeth herself accepted. Mrs. Hubbard described what happened.Sally looked very sympathetic and indignant. "It's really despicable. I can't believe anyone would do that to our black Bess. Everyone loves her. She's quiet and hard, doesn't get involved, doesn't care about me. Flaws No one doesn't like her." "I think so too." "Er—it's one of those things, isn't it? So—" "So what?" Mrs. Hubbard asked abruptly when the girl stopped talking. Sally said slowly: "That's why I'm leaving here. Did Mrs. Nicoletis tell you?" "Well. She's very troubled. Seems like you didn't tell her the real reason?" "Oh, I don't. There's no reason for her to be suspicious. You know what she's like. Whatever reason I'm telling you about her is good enough. I just don't like what's going on here. Weird, one of my shoes Lost, and then Valerie Hobhouse's silk scarf cut to pieces - and Wren's rucksack... being plundered isn't a big deal - after all, that could happen anytime - isn't it good But it's mostly normal—but this other thing isn't normal." She paused for a moment, smiled, and then burst into a grin. "Akinbump was terrified," she said. "He's always been very proud and civilized - but now his old West African belief in magic is coming out." "Hmph!" said Mrs. Hubbard angrily. "I don't have the patience to listen to this nonsense. It's just some normal human being at work." Sally's lips twisted into a cat-like grin. "The point is," she said, "that what you're talking about is ordinary, and I have a feeling that there's someone in this room who isn't ordinary!" Mrs. Hubbard went downstairs.She turned and walked into the student lounge on the first floor.There are four people there.Valerie Holmes, leaning on the sofa, with a pair of beautiful little feet on the armrest; Nigel Chapman sitting at the table, with a thick book spread out in front of her; Patricia Lane leaning on the fireplace; A girl had just come in in a raincoat, and Mrs. Hubbard was taking off her beanie when she entered.She was a fair, stocky girl with wide-set brown eyes and a mouth that was always ajar and seemed to be in perpetual surprise. Valerie took off the cigarette from her lips and said in a lazy voice: "Hey, Mom, did you syrup our venerable old fellow to calm her down?" Patricia Lane says: "Did she fight you?" "How's the battle going?" Valerie said, giggling. "Something very unpleasant has happened," said Mrs. Hubbard. "Nigel, I need your help." "Me?" Nigel closed the book and looked up at her.A mischievous but unexpectedly sweet smile flashed across his thin, malicious face, "What did I do?" "I hope there's nothing there," said Mrs. Hubbard. : Regardless of someone maliciously spilling ink in Elizabeth Joneston's notebook, it's green ink.You used green ink, Nigel. " He stares at him, the smile disappearing. "Yes. I used green ink." "Scary stuff," Patricia said. "I really hope you don't use that ink, Nigel. I've been telling you, I think it's too unconventional." "I like to be different," Nigel said. "Lavender ink is even better. I have to try and get some to use? But are you serious, Mom?I mean, something about sabotage? " "Well, I mean it. Did you do it, Nigel?" "No, of course not. You know, I like to tease people, but I would never do such a mean thing--never would I do it to Black Beth, who just minded her own business enough to be an example to some people. Come on. Where's my bottle of ink? I filled the pen last night, I remember. I usually keep it on the shelf over there." He sprang up and stepped across. "Here." He picked up the inkwell, and whistled once. "You're right. The ink bottle is supposed to be empty. It should be full." The girl in the raincoat was a little breathless. "My God," she said. "God. I don't like--" Nigel turned sharply to her accusingly. "Have you an alibi, Celia?" he said menacingly. The girl gasped. "I didn't do it. I really didn't do it. I was in the hospital all day anyway. I couldn't-" Patricia Lane said angrily: "I don't see why Nigel should be under suspicion. Just because his ink was taken--" Valerie said sinisterly: "Yes, my dear, in defense of your lad." "But it's not fair--" "But I really have nothing to do with it," Celia protested eagerly. "No one thinks you did it, sweetie," said Valerie impatiently. "But, you know," she exchanged glances with Mrs. Hubbard, "this is beyond the bounds of joking. Something has to be done." "It's something to do with it," said Mrs. Hubbard sullenly.