Chapter 2 Empty House Suspicion (Part 1)

In the evening, the chilly setting sun shone on the uncultivated land, and the tall poplar trees on both sides of the road dragged their long shadows on the ground; Sam Beckett pushed open the gate of Hebby Grange and drove the tractor straight into it. in the field. Things took a turn for the better when, the night before, Hibee's relatives finally stopped their protracted quarrel and came to an agreement on the sale price of the farm.In the early morning of the next day, real estate agent John Farham rushed to notify Beckett, and Beckett read the contract to be sold again and signed his name on the contract.A few hours later, he drove the horses into the pastoral land that had already belonged to him.Now, he's plowing the land.He was going to work till midnight, and possibly even later if he wasn't tired.

Walking along a dirt road from the gate of the fence, there is a house in the middle of the farm, surrounded by thick trees.Beckett had no use for the big old house at the moment, and repairing it would probably cost more than buying the entire estate. He lowered the plow blade, started the tractor, and opened soft furrows on the fertile, black oily land.Dark clouds moved low overhead; the setting sun in the west tinged the bases of the clouds with gold.This is a stunning view of a Southern California winter sunset. The dull roar of the tractor motorcycle and the long stare at the ground make Sam Beckett fall into a dream world.He didn't realize how long the time had passed. When it got dark, he turned on the car lights.The cold of the night stung his face and hands, he still

Keep your eyes on the line of land where the weedy heath meets the furrow. The horses were agitated, curious about this strange land, some bold horses ran around in the fence, and some ran to the freshly plowed fields. Sam Beckett didn't look sideways. He concentrated on steering the tractor, plowing back and forth along the direction of the fence.The tractor skillfully turned, turned back, and moved forward; turned again, turned back, and moved forward... Time slipped by quietly, and the moon sometimes came out from behind the clouds, and sometimes went in again.When the light from Molong is projected from the slit of the sky onto the land of black thorns, the surrounding objects will present strange silhouettes like silhouettes.

Under the dim moonlight, Sam Beckett suddenly noticed that on the field not far to the right, there was a faint black shadow, shaped like a big sack filled with potatoes.He rubbed his eyes and looked again, then stopped the car, jumped off, and walked forward, thinking maybe he was delusional, maybe the shadow would disappear at any time.But when he looked again, it was still there.When he came to the front, he saw that there was indeed an object on the ground.He finally saw that there were high heels, human legs, skirts... It was the body of a woman, lying face down on a wet, broken field.

"Hi," he called, "what's the matter with you?" He reached out and touched the woman. She was still a little warm, but her body was unnatural, and she had obviously lost her vitality.Suddenly, he quickly retracted his hand like an electric shock and felt something thick and sticky, black and smelly... Sam Beckett ran desperately to the tractor, jumped on it, turned around, and drove out the gate as fast as he could.Fear overwhelmed his fatigue, and he tried his best to understand what had happened. Although his mind gradually became clear, he still felt dazed as if he were in a dream.

Sheriff Bill Ayrton finished his business, rolled a cigarette, and sat in a comfortable armchair to browse the day's paper.Normally, he seldom stays in the office after get off work, except when his aunt Doris comes to visit. Today, Elton and Doris can get along because he has set himself rules, but he still tries to avoid her. Doris said he was so slack that she would tell him down in front of everyone whenever she could.Her small eyes are black and bright, and her flexible tongue is rarely quiet, which is unbearable. The sheriff was gray-haired, gentle, polite, and had a good sense of humor, but Doris didn't like it.In her opinion, a man must be manly.In recent days, she has given him a new nickname "Lao Yuan".almost every little

At that time, she used this new nickname to call him more than ten times. The sheriff looked first at the headlines in the News.He had seen the news that the Shebees had reached an agreement, that a big deal was about to be done; Bill Ayrton figured the buyer must be Sam Beckett, since his land was attached to the Shebe Grange. He read the first page, then the "Personal Newsletter" section on the inside page.The sheriff is very familiar with the local residents, and he can learn a lot of inside information from the simple report in the "newsletter".He knew, for example, that Else Farham's relationship with John Farham was over when the paper said today that Else Farham was off on a long vacation; information.

The phone rang. "Hello, Sheriff," came a man's alarmed voice, "I'm Sam Beckett. I've found a woman's body at Hibe Grange!" "Who is she?" "I do not recognize." "How long has she been dead?" "I just saw that there is a lot of blood on my body!" The sheriff said: "You don't move, I'll come right away." Sam Beckett Grange was about ten miles out of town, and the sheriff jumped into his police car and was there in ten minutes.Beckett was waiting for him, distraught, he was terrified. "See what, Sam?"

"It was a woman lying face down, in a field I had just plowed. A blond girl, I daresay she was not more than twenty years old. She was dressed in woolen clothes with a gash on her back, as if she had been stabbed." One knife." "Have you left any footprints in the vicinity?" "That's all mine, the business I went over to her." "Well," said the sheriff, "let's go and see." Sam Beckett incoherently remarked: "I plowed the field and she lay there; it was just plowed there. No one else's footprints, and if someone killed her, it would be..."

The sheriff pushed open the gate. "Come on, Sam," he said. "Let's go in on the tractor, and just keep your eyes on the old ruts." Beckett drove in along the trace made by the wheels just now, and came to the place where the tractor was originally parked. "Those shoe prints," asked the sheriff, "are they yours?" "be mine." "Looks like there's no other shoe prints left, Sam." "Yes," said Beckett ruefully, "as I said, there are no other people's shoe prints." "But she can't float up here off the ground, Sam!"

"Of course," said Beckett, "perhaps so, I think, she was stabbed; running for her life, she came across the heath to the plowed side, fell down, had no strength to get up again, and died. Later , when my tractor drove over, I didn't notice it when I passed her for the first time. I mean I didn't notice it, and of course I didn't see it later..." "But you passed by her, how could you not see it?" asked the sheriff. "Because, you know, plowing plows straight." "I think the moon was covered by dark clouds at that time, and I only paid attention to the land ahead..." The sheriff jumped down and walked carefully following Beckett's footprints. He turned on the flashlight and pressed his hand on the woman's chest. Her heart had already stopped beating.The sheriff looked at it and walked back the same way. "Let's go back, Sam," he said, "stay in the same rut, and stop at the edge of the plowed field." When the tractor drove to the side of the road, he jumped down again, turned on the flashlight and looked at the ground at a low level, and walked over step by step, carefully inspecting every piece of weeds. "No blood." He yelled. "Will it be plowed off by me?" "Maybe, but if she recovers from the injury first and then runs forward, it will drip on the skirt, but there is blood on her clothes, but not on the skirt." "Yes," said Beckett, "it's strange that there's nothing on the dress!" "Listen, Sam," said the Sheriff, "you go back and call Assistant Sheriff Quillian and ask him to bring a camera and tell him to get the coroner too, and I'll wait here. " "Good, good," said Beckett.His tone showed that he was eager to get out of here quickly. But the sheriff said again: "I made a call, please drive the tractor here again, you should stand on the tractor to take pictures, you want to take pictures of the dead body, and you also need to take pictures of shoe prints." "The shoe prints are mine, and no one else's, so why do you take pictures!" Beckett stammered. "Go ahead, I know that," said the sheriff. The sheriff's assistant's nineteen-year-old daughter, Beryl Quillian, sat at the telephone, waiting for more than an hour for Roy Jasper to call her from Fort Bickering.As soon as the bell rang, she grabbed the receiver and asked in a soft voice, "Hi, Hey? "Whether to Roy or to others, her answering voice is so pleasant. The operator said, "Long distance for Miss Beryl, is she there?" "I am," Beryl said. "Please wait." Roy Jasper's eager voice came from the phone, "Hello, Beryl?" "Roy!" The operator interjected, "Put in a quarter, please, and speak for three minutes." Immediately, Roy's voice appeared again, "Beryl, I have good news for you. I will go home tomorrow." "Oh, Roy!" "Are you happy, Beryl?" "Of course I am, Roy!" "Let's dance together tomorrow, shall we?" "That's great, Roy!" Their conversation continued until the operator hung up, and she said three minutes. Roy said quickly, "Goodbye, dear." He put down the microphone. Beryl was still standing, and after a while, she reluctantly put down the receiver.Just then, the phone rang again.Beryl picked up the receiver and heard a man's voice, "I'm looking for George Quillian, hurry up, there's a murder here." "Wait a minute, please," Beryl yelled, "Dad, your phone, someone has been killed." Quillian picked up the receiver, and the excited voice of Sam Beckett came through the receiver.Quilian asked a few words and said loudly, "I'll be right there." Sam Beckett's tractor with a powerful spotlight.Several people are surveying the scene.They all decided that there were no shoe prints other than Beckett's.Photographers took pictures of the corpse from several different angles. "Jim," said the Sheriff to Coroner Jims Logan, "you can move the body. Poor child, she will not be more than nineteen, not more than twenty." "A knife wound to the back," Logan reported. "No weapon found. Bill, you've got a murder." "Hey!" The coroner was puzzled and said: "Look, it was a hard blow, just one cut. No other marks!" "Hey!" The sheriff snorted again, and then raised his voice and said, "Listen, you can leave here now, and everyone will go out on a tractor. No one should leave footprints on the cultivated land, you know?" Then he lowered his voice again. voice against sam baker Said: "After an hour, you will come and take me out; don't let anyone know that I am still here, please make two extra trips, and take the body out first." Bill Ayrton made his way inside, and soon disappeared into the darkness, the end of his cigarette flickering like a firefly in his hand; a moment later it dropped and went out. The sheriff sat kneeling on his heels like a cowboy.He saw Sam Beckett's tractor slowly drive across the field towards the gate. After a while, all the cars parked outside the gate turned on their lights and turned around, and then several taillights flashed conspicuous red lights and began to leave. . The sound of the motorcycle gradually faded away, and the solemn atmosphere returned to the field, only the sound of the nightingale could be heard in the ears.Somewhere behind the sheriff a horse was walking. Tian Zhuang was immersed in darkness again, surrounded by deathly silence.He stood up and walked quietly towards the woods next to the house, stepping on the grass without a sound; he moved under the shadow of the big tree as lightly as a cat. In a place with a wide view, he sat down on his knees again, waiting.Suddenly there was a horse braying, and he couldn't help shaking his body; in the fallen leaves not far to his right, there was the faint sound of small beetles crawling.About twenty minutes passed, and he sat still, listening quietly in the dark, as if he expected the sounds of the little nocturnal animals to provide him with some useful information.After a while, he finally stood up and walked forward. The gates of the ancient dwelling were closed; all the windows were battened. The sheriff cautiously tried the front door, then turned to the back door, both locked... (Note: There is a blank paragraph here) The sheriff walked softly from room to room, and with the help of the faint light in his hand, he saw similar footprints everywhere. In the kitchen, there was a table that had been recently wiped, and on it lay a few scraps of paper, some bread crumbs, a lipstick, and a silver cigarette case.On the east end of the table, there is a trace of being scorched by the fire for about two hours, scorched black, with cigarette ashes on it.It was the crippled mark of a burnt cigarette. He squatted down to search, and there was a burnt matchstick and two cigarette butts under the table, one of which had lipstick marks on it. Ayrton picked up the cigarette case. There was a heart engraved on the bottom of the cigarette case, an arrow pierced through the heart, a letter R was engraved on the cluster of arrows, and a letter B was engraved on the end of the arrow. He stared blankly at the exquisite cigarette case for a while, then put it back in its original place, turned and walked out of the ominous house.He carefully closed the wicket as it was. At around 11 o'clock at night, the phone at Quilian's house rang.Beryl rushed out of the bedroom. "Mom, I'll pick you up," she said loudly as she passed her mother's bedroom. "Thank you dear." Beryl ran downstairs, picked up the phone and said excitedly, "Hello, who is it? I'm Beryl Quillian." What came over the phone was the deep voice of the sheriff, "Is your father at home?" "He hasn't come back yet, should I hang up the phone and look for him?" Beryl calmed down her voice. The sheriff said, "Okay, please tell him I'm going to call Ye immediately. Someone left a cigarette case in Hibe's house and I want him to get his fingerprints on it." "I'll look for him right away, Sheriff." "Tell him to bring medicine and a camera for fingerprinting. The cigarette box is made of silver. There is a heart engraved on the bottom of the box. There is an arrow on the heart. There is an R letter on one end of the arrow and a B letter on the other end. Please tell me He comes to me as soon as possible." "Okay... I'll tell him... goodbye..." Beryl was already weak when she said this.She wobbled and put down the microphone in her hand, as if she had fallen into a hole in the ice. This cigarette case was her Christmas present to Roy!At this time, she remembered another thing: a few hours ago, Roy called her long-distance, and she clearly heard the operator tell him to put in quarters, but for the long-distance call from Fort Bickering, he should put in eighty cents. Fifteen cents! "Beryl," my mother called from upstairs, "what's the matter, why are you talking like that?" Beryl replied with a smile: "It's okay, Mom, it's the sheriff's call, and he wants me to find Dad." "Looking for Dad? Paying back my dad this late, Beryl? Is something wrong?" "It's nothing, Mom, it's the Sheriff's business," Beryl replied, ready to go as soon as possible. "Will Daddy be at the Press?" "Why don't you give him a call?" "I'm going to get him in the car, maybe he's not there, maybe he's somewhere else. Don't worry, Mom," Beryl said, running out the door. It was nearly midnight when the sheriff arrived at the coroner's office. "Is George here?" he asked. "Yes, he and the doctor are in the autopsy room." Someone replied. "What new discovery has the doctor made?" asked the sheriff. "There is a knife wound on the left back. The wound is very deep. It was stabbed straight in." George Quillian came out of the back room. "Not a drop of blood on the dress. Strange, here," he said. "It was a stab wound, and she died almost immediately." The sheriff nodded.He pulled his assistant aside and said, "I was looking for you, George, did you see your daughter?" "She called me just now and said she was looking for me in the car. She said you found some fingerprints, and I was going back to the station to get my belongings." "Someone's been at old Shebby's," said the sheriff, "walking around the house, and there's their leftover sandwiches in the kitchen, and a girl's lip balm, and a cigarette case, which I'm sure must have With fingerprints." "You didn't touch those things, did you?" Quillen asked. "Hey, I picked it up and read it..." the sheriff admitted. "Bill, how many times have I told you that you shouldn't touch those things, don't interfere with my work!" "I know, I know," pleaded the sheriff, "I just thought I'd better look at the underside of the pack first, it's the vital part, and I just turned it over and looked at it." Kui Lian waved his hands and said, "Then, let's go, I have to go back to the office first." "Okay, I'll see you at Xizu's place." "Would you like to see the body?" "Hey, don't read it...don't read it now, have you taken her fingerprints yet?" the sheriff asked. "got it." "What does she look like?" said the sheriff. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, smooth skin, she is a very beautiful girl, about twenty years old." Quillian said. "What a pity!" sighed the Inspector, and after a while said: "Well, George, I'll see you at Hibe's." In about a quarter of an hour the Inspector came to the gate of Hibe Grange.he is going down When the car opened the door, he suddenly froze. Under the light of the car, he found that the tractor was passing by. The track of the other wheel was rutted on top of it.Quillin arrives in a few minutes When we got here, the sheriff was on his knees studying the tracks by the light of his flashlight. "What are you doing?" The sheriff's assistant jumped out of the car. "What's new?" "A car came," said the sheriff thoughtfully. "It came after the tractor drove back." "Really," said the assistant, "who could it be? Maybe it's a reporter from the newspaper office. We should put a lock on the gate." "I should have stayed," said the sheriff. Quilian silently agreed, and he also thought that if it was not locked, it should be guarded. "What about those ruts?" "I don't know very well. It looks like the tires are quite smooth. It may be an old car. There are only a few places that can be seen. Here, this is the trace of the right front wheel of the car. Look, there is a small piece of the tire missing here. .Remember that feature, George. We can find the car. If we keep our eyes open." Quillian said, "Should I get a photographer to take a picture? But I only have a camera for fingerprints. It won't work for ruts." "Well," said the sheriff, "you measure the size of this chip on the tire and trace it. I'll go to the house and do something else." Kuilian hesitated and said, "But, maybe this defect is a very important piece of evidence..." "Perhaps. But I suppose we can remember its shape, don't you?" "That's right, it's just..." "Just what?" "No...nothing," Quillian said. "Okay," Bill Ayrton said after pondering for a while: "Then how about it, George, you take a piece of paper and tear off a pattern according to the shape and size of the defect, do you think it's okay?" Quillen nodded.He tore a piece of paper from the notepad and half knelt on the wet soil, and compared the shape of the defect on the rut, he tore out a piece of paper bit by bit. "All right, Bill, exactly the same," he said. "Well," said the Inspector, "put it away. Now we go inside and I'll show you the cigarette case." Quilian seemed a little hesitant again, but he still nodded and didn't say anything. They drove the car outside the gates of Hibby House and entered by the side door, and the rats scattered in the dark.The sheriff illuminated the footprints on the floor with a flashlight. "Here's the shoe print of the same woman, and here's the man's, but there's more than one man, you see it all over the place. Come, let's go into the kitchen, George." They walked into the kitchen, and the beam of the flashlight illuminated the shredded paper, lipstick, and cigarette case on the table in turn.These things are all placed in their original positions.Quillian opened the suitcase.Carefully pick the corner of the cigarette case with two fingers and sprinkle aluminum powder on it. "Oh, it's kind of weird!" "What?" asked the sheriff. "There are no fingerprints on it!" "Maybe he wears gloves," said the sheriff. "What about lipstick?" Quillian picked up two fairly clear fingerprints from the top of the lipstick. But the sheriff didn't seem too interested in the fingerprints, he was crouching on the floor looking for something. "Only one matchstick," he murmured, "that's kind of weird!" "What are you talking about?" "Let me ask you, for example, if you want to light three cigarettes, how many matches do you use?" Quilleon said with a smile: "If there is a beautiful girl sitting opposite, of course I only use one match... No, wait a minute, I have to use two matches." "Yes, but this is the only one here." The sheriff said, "It seems that this man is a heavy smoker. He smoked the second cigarette after that, and lit it with the first cigarette butt. For example, he and that The girl sat on either side of the table, and after eating some sandwiches, he struck a match and lit a cigarette for the girl, as well as his own. The girl probably smoked one cigarette, and when she finished she took this lip balm out of her handbag and put on lipstick...and then...then something happened, yes, at this very moment, they must have been affected Scared..." "How do you know this is the moment?" "That's right. The accident probably happened very suddenly, and they must have jumped up in fright. You see, the man threw the cigarette on the table and never touched it again, leaving burn marks on the table! The cigarette in the woman's hand That's when the lipstick got scared off." "and after?" "Later, later, after some time," said the sheriff thoughtfully, "the girl fell on the plowed field. However, no trace was left in any direction, not even her own. " "You said it for a while, but how long?" Quillian asked. "Well? Man," replied the sheriff, "this is exactly the answer we need to seek. You can deduce, deduce, deduce an approximate time, but the deduced answer may not be correct!" About nine o'clock the next morning, Beryl saw Roy Jasper approaching the corner of the street in the distance, and she ran out the gate and jumped down the steps to stop him at the side of the road. "Roy!" "Ah, Beryl!" She kissed him hastily, and pulled him aside, "Come on, I have something to ask you, when did you leave Bickeringburg?" "Leaving...very late last night," he said. "You haven't slept all night?" "Almost, I didn't stop a long-distance bus until after midnight." "Where did you call me? Fort Bickerin?" "Yes, what's the matter?" "Oh, I just wanted to know where you hung up. Let's just sit here and get me a cigarette without going in the house, okay?" Beryl said. Roy took out a cigarette case, it was made of silver.He opened the lid of the box and handed it to Beryl. "Roy," Beryl said, "is this the box I gave you for Christmas?" Roy stared in surprise: "Yes." He smiled and said, "It's that cigarette case, what's the matter with you?" "Oh, I, I thought you dropped it." A look of surprise crossed his face, "Why do you think that? Do you really want to smoke?" "Oh," she replied casually, taking a cigarette from the case. He lit it for her, and lit one for himself, then looked at her suspiciously and asked, "Did something happen?" "Well, it's all right, Roy. How much did you pay for the long distance call last night?" He looked up and laughed, "It's fun to say, I was asking for a phone call, and a man came in to make a long distance call. He hung up very close. The operator might have confused me with that person's phone number. She told me to call Twenty-five cents." At this moment the door of her house opened and George Quillian came out. He was a little surprised to see Beryl and Roy sitting outside. "Ah, hello, why are you sitting here, when did you arrive, Roy?" "I just arrived, hello!" Quillian shook hands with him, "I was almost startled, I didn't close my eyes last night! Coffee and breakfast are on the table, Mrs. Quillian must be very happy to see you" "We'll be in in a minute," Beryl said to her father, smiling. "Okay," said the assistant sheriff, and went back into the house. "What case is your father working on?" Roy asked. "There's been a murder at Old Shebe's Grange." Beryl looked at Roy and said, "A girl was killed. She was about my age, with flaxen hair, and was stabbed in the back." "At old Shebby's Grange?" asked Roy, wide-eyed. "Yes, a man named Beckett bought the land and he went to plow the land last night and found the body," Beryl said. "Beckett?" Roy tried to remember. "Oh, by the way. I know Sam Beckett. What's that girl doing at old Hibe's?" "I don't know, there is no clue at the moment, and no one knows who she is." Roy took out a cigarette habitually after smoking, and lit the butt of the previous cigarette: "Oh, your dad will be busy for a while. Shall we go in and have some coffee?" Sergeant Bill Elton was absorbed in his newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. The Rockwinley Morning Chronicle reported the appalling case.It uses oversized banner headlines, but the description of the case is very simple, because the reporter knows nothing about the details of the murder; Bill Ayrton Read it word by word, and then talk about it from beginning to end after reading it.He did this to prevent his sister-in-law from having a chance to talk to him. But Doris got impatient with waiting, she gave a dry cough and said, "Hey, why don't you ask me, everyone is making fun of you policemen." The sheriff said nothing.He didn't say a word, just to answer Doris politely: "No one asked you!" "They're all talking about you," continued Doris, "that you're a 'trick'." "The Chronicle is against us," said the sheriff. "I don't expect it to speak well of me." "Oh, so be it, but the News hasn't praised you lately! The way I see it, they wouldn't dare make a fool of you if you were more manly in your business!" The sheriff sneered and said, "Be more calm and stable, they will call you an 'old man'; if you are more manly, they will say you are rough and tricky; hey, you will never get better anyway!" Doris shut her mouth and rolled her eyes.But it's just a rare moment.She quickly said again: "Okay, even if you are right, but who is that girl?" "have no idea." "What are you doing now?" "There are some clues, we are investigating." "What clue?" "Her coat and skirt had marks from the dry cleaner on the inside, and the label on the inside of the coat had the name of a store in St. Rodolphe." The phone rang, and the sheriff grabbed the receiver, and through it came the voice of St. Rodolfo Police Chief Everett Gilmer, "Hey, Bill, here we are. Acme Dry Cleaners has that coat for laundry. The girl's name is Elizabeth Say, are these materials useful to you?" "Not to mention, does she live in St. Rodolphe?" "Yes, I live in this city, and we have the address of her apartment. Would you like to come today?" Gilmer asked. The sheriff hesitated for a while, then he said: "Okay, I'll come and see if you have any new discoveries. I'll listen to you when we meet, and I'll take some photos of her with me." He put down the receiver and said to his wife, "I'll go out for a while and come back in the evening." "Where are you going?" Doris asked quickly. "Go away," said the sheriff. Looking at the photos that Sheriff Elton and Chief Gilmer handed her.The caretaker of the apartment in St. Rodolphe was a fat woman. "It's her, that's right," she said. "It's Elizabeth. What happened to her?" "She was murdered," Gilmer said. "what?" "She was stabbed to death with a knife." "Oh, God! What a girl she is!" "Who do you think did it?" asked the Inspector. "Has Elizabeth any enemies, or anyone else?" "No, she will never have any enemies, you know how good she is; she is quiet and polite, everyone likes her!" "But she may have a boyfriend, and what about her home?" asked Gilmer. "I'm not too sure about that," the fat woman said hesitantly, "I only know that her mother died five or six months ago, no one was in August, it seems to be in a county in Colorado. That's all. " Bill Ayrton nodded to Gilmer: "Okay, we can go, Everett. Thank you, aunt." They went to the Post Office and sent a telegram to the Denver Police Department, looking for a woman named Sai who had died in a certain Colorado county a few months ago. They spent several hours conducting those routine, tedious investigations. They had to gather more information about Elizabeth.They asked her acquaintances and her employers, and gradually a lot of fragmentary materials pieced together a complete outline. Elizabeth is a bright and hearty girl.She is hardworking, trustworthy, sincere and loyal to others. She has a boyfriend, but she rarely goes out alone with her boyfriend. Instead, she often does group activities with a few close friends.Right now, she is working in a small restaurant at home, and her work is excellent, and she has been unanimously praised by her employer and customers. She was seen with a young man at around 10am yesterday morning.The young man was tall, dark-skinned, and wore an army uniform.They stayed together for about half an hour at a table in the restaurant, talking about something very pleasantly.Afterwards Elizabeth took some sandwiches and walked out of the restaurant with him, about eleven o'clock, and they were not seen again after that. Gilmer and Ayrton were discussing the material when someone handed over a telegram from the Denver Police Department. Elvira Sainian was 56 years old, died on August 23, and was buried by her daughter Elizabeth, who now lives in your city. "Hey, that's right," said Gilmer. "Just find this young man and you've got the murderer. It's an easy case." The sheriff put on his old top hat slowly, looked at Gilmer and said indifferently: "Yes, Everett, the truth may not be that simple, we can't take these superficial signs too seriously." Rush Medford, the county's district attorney, came out of his private office to receive George Quillen. "Hello, Quillian, I have invited you here to tell you that I have invited you here personally. I want you to meet a man and I want you to help him. His name is Walworth, Martin Walworth, a famous criminologist." "Oh, I've heard of it," Quillen said. "I was specially invited," McDermott went on. "This is a decision made in response to strong demands from people from all walks of life in the local area. These people think that the work of Sergeant Bill Elton Sr. has been very ineffective recently. Out of date, he will lead us astray." "What would you like Mr. Walworth to do?" asked Quillian. The prosecutor smiled and said: "I hope he can solve the Shebe Grange murder quickly. I have to answer to the voters of this county. We can no longer use the same old methods to solve murder cases." "You mean you're going to replace Inspector Ayrton with Walworth?" "No, no, I just said I was going to ask Walworth to solve the murder." "But what would the Sheriff think?" said Quillen gloomily. "Of course he won't like it, but I hope you have no objection to it." Quilian hesitated for a while, and he could only say, "Yes, I don't have the right." "Then please come in." Medford pushed open the door of the office. Uddin Walworth, a short man with bushy eyebrows, spectacles, and strangely cold pale gray eyes, neither rose nor did he stand when the prosecutor introduced Quillian to him. reach out. "Your approach to this case is wrong. Now I have to start over with the scientific method. Well, Assistant Sheriff, think about what else I should know." The criminologist stared indifferently. Quillen said. Quillian told the story of how the sheriff found the rut in the car.Martin Walworth was very concerned about this. He asked urgently, "Is the tire on the right front wheel missing? Did you trace a paper pattern? Is it a paper pattern torn out by hand?" "Yes, the sheriff asked me to copy a paper pattern." "And what about this paper pattern?" Quilian reached out to touch, and remembered that the paper pattern was in the pocket of the trousers he wore last night. The trousers were soiled in the wet field. He changed them this morning and asked his wife to send them to be washed; the paper pattern was also in the trouser pocket.Quillian figured it wouldn't let the criminologist know.He was flustered, but he didn't dare to show it on his face. "I put it at home," he said. "Go get it!" said Walworth.He turned back and said to the prosecutor in a contemptuous tone: "This is too rash, how can you use such an inexplicable method to collect evidence!" 奎连把车停在家门口，急匆匆地跑上楼，心里嘀咕着：妻子把裤子送去洗衣铺前，不知道有没有摸过裤兜？要是没有，那张纸样还我得回来吗？ 当犯罪学家问他时，他已经急出一身冷汗，深怕纸样被洗烂了。当他跑进卧室，才长长地吐了一口气；在那儿，一小块沾满泥污的纸片儿就放在桌子上，他不禁在心里向妻子道了声谢谢，拿起纸样赶紧下楼。 奎连从后门出来，看见女儿的轿车停放在车房外边，心里想大概她在洗车子。可是突然问他站住了，他几乎不敢相信自己的眼睛，他发现这辆轿车的右边前轮车胎上，竟缺掉了一块橡胶！ 奎连楞住了。他抬起沉重的双腿向前走了几步，把手中的纸片贴上车胎缺损的部位正好，吻合！他只觉得脑子里嗡嗡响，啊，贝丽尔！不，这绝不可能！ 仿佛那只是几天前的事，她还是个小宝宝，刚生出第一颗门牙尔后是为她的发烧、闹病而耗尽心血，后来她背个小书包上学去，尔后长成一个可爱的少女，再后来出落成眼前的这一个亭亭玉立的大姑娘。 他萌发的第一个念头是：保护贝丽尔！应该赶紧把车胎卸下来，换上备用的？他深深吸口气，女儿是绝对可以信赖的，从丽尔不可能参与这起谋杀案！应该找她谈一谈。 他沉重地转过身往家里走。 警长助理推开后门迸屋时，贝丽尔正在厨房里，她朝父亲笑了笑。但是当她发现父亲心慌意乱的脸色时，她的笑容消失了。 “你过来一下，我有话问你。”乔治·奎连说。 贝丽尔默默地跟着父亲走进起居室，她直挺挺地站着，脸色发白。 “昨天夜里，凶案发生后，你去过老希比田庄吗？” 贝丽尔抿着嘴，踌躇着。父亲正焦虑不安地等待着她的回答，如果对他撒谎，那将撕碎他的心啊！ “是的，我去了。”她终于说。 "What are you going to do?" “我去……警长来电话，要我去找你。” 眼前的乔治·奎连不是爸爸，他眼下是个警官，他的询问对女儿形成沉重的压力。 “警长是怎么说的？” “他说那儿有一只烟盒，他要你去提取指纹。” “于是你就去了希比的住宅？” "yes." “去找我？” There was another awkward silence.奎连只觉得手心冒汗，心在剧烈地跳动。他的目光一动不动地停留在女儿的脸上。 "no." “那么你去干什么？” “我去……噢……爸爸！”她双唇哆嗦，跟里涌出了泪珠。稍停，她揩去泪珠，抬眼对着父亲，轻声说：“因为我怀疑，那是罗伊的香烟盒。” “是他的吗？” “我……我起先以为是他的，可后来我才知道那不是他的。” “后来呢，你做些什么？” “后来我拿去一块布，把盒子擦干净了，我以为那上面可能有指纹。” “你说不是他的，你为什么要擦掉指纹呢？” “因为……因为他昨天晚上挂电话给我，他说，他在比克林堡，可是我认为他说的不是真话，我就……爸爸！我说不上为什么，别问我了，我说不上！我只觉得我应该保护罗伊，我只知道。这最重要……” 乔治·奎连突然觉得他非常非常虚弱，他想他的道路已经走到尽头了，如今一切全完了！ “你是说，到后来你才认为那只烟盒不是罗伊的，是吗？”他有气无力地问。 “爸爸，我说不上，我也弄不明白是不是他的，他早上来这里，我故意问他要支烟，他反应很自然，他拿出那个银烟盒，可是……可是后来，他走以后，我忽然记起来这只烟盒为什么没有心和箭的图案，我……” “罗伊现在呢，他在哪儿？” “可能在旅馆里，他说他要洗个澡，睡一会儿，等下他会来我们家。” “等下你不要对他提起这件事。”奎连说：“也不要对别人说。” “爸爸，对不起你。”贝丽尔低下头。 奎连诧异地望着她，好象望着一个完全陌生的女子。 “我把事情弄糟了，是吗？”她轻声问。 “是的，很糟糕！”他从喉咙间咕哝着，走出了房间。