Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

When Grant entered the mill house at six forty-five he felt that he had asked all the people in the streets of Sacca St. Mary's and had nothing more to ask.He knew everything about life in England, but he had no clue about the case entrusted to him. Marta greeted him with her melodious whisper, which calmed him down.The drawing room of the mill house was built on the river, and during the day the furnishings floated on the green waves.But this evening, Marta pulled down the curtains to block out the afterglow of the setting sun and the waves of the river.She made the atmosphere warm and calm, and Grant, tired and confused, was grateful for her arrangement.

"I'm so glad it's not Walter who's missing," she said, beckoning him to sit down with her favorite gesture and pouring sherry. "Happy?" Grant said, remembering Marta saying what she thought of Walt. "If it was Walt who went missing, I'd be a suspect, not just your bedmate." Grant thought Marta must have looked a lot like a sleeping dog in bed. "It's like I can be on the edge of the law and watch its wheels go past me. How are you doing, dear?" "I'm in a mess." Grant said directly, but Marta took it lightly. "You feel that way only because you're tired and hungry; and maybe a little indigestion, after all, you've been eating at the White Hart Inn these two days. You're here for a taste of the sherry, and I'll go downstairs for the wine, which I'll chill in the cellar Moselle wine. Directly below this room is the kitchen, and directly below the kitchen is the cellar, and the wine will be as cold as running water. Oh, dear, I was going to stop thinking about running water today. I deliberately drew the curtains I won't see the river so I won't be stuck on it all the time. Maybe we'll both feel better after the Moselle wine. I'll get the wine up and I'll fry an omelet that's never been better than I've ever seen, and we'll Calm down.

So relax and simmer your appetite.If the sherry isn't pure enough, there's some Tio Pepe in the cupboard; I personally don't think that wine lives up to its name. " She walks away.Grant was grateful that she didn't ask a lot of questions, but he knew she must be full of them.She is a woman who not only knows how to appreciate food and wine, but also has a kind of inner self-cultivation.There was a quality in her in this country cottage that he had never seen before. He lay on his back, the light of the standing lamp shrouded him, and he put his feet on the willow stool, very relaxed.Very warm and quiet all around.The river is quiet: Roshmere is a quiet river.All was silent except for the crackling of the fire in the fireplace.There was a newspaper on the sofa opposite, and a bookshelf behind the sofa, but he was too tired to reach for it.He had a shelf of reference books close by, and he scanned the titles slowly until he came across the City of London telephone directory.Seeing a familiar book suddenly made him think again.When he spoke to Scotland Yard in the evening, they said that Searle's relatives had not yet come forward.Nor were they surprised, since the news came in the morning, but his artist relative could live anywhere between Sealy Ayres and Cumberland; Didn't care at all what happened.After all, he once said frankly that they no longer see each other.

Still, Grant wanted to talk to someone who knew Searle's background, if only a little bit. Now, in the only time he had relaxed for two days, he took the volume beginning with the letter s to try his luck.Maybe she lived in the City of London, she and Searle were cousins, and that together was the Searle family.He noticed a Miss Seale living on Holy Road, which was in Hampstead, which was famous for its artists' quarters.He immediately picked up the phone and asked for the London number. "The line will be delayed for an hour, and I will contact you again," said the other end.

"I have priority." Grant revealed his identity. "Oh," the voice was somewhat disappointed and teasing, "well, I'll try to see what I can do." "On the contrary," Grant said, "I wanted to see what you could do." Then he hung up. He put the phone book back in place, and took out Who's Who in Movies, flipping through it while waiting for an answer.Some stars in it made him feel old; there were actors and actresses he'd never heard of who already had long lists of accomplishments;He started looking for stars he knew, as if he were looking for someone he knew in an autobiographical index.Toby Tullis, son of Sidney Tullis and his wife Martha Speck.

It's hard to imagine that a national treasure like Toby Tulis was born in normal ways after being pregnant for ten months.He discovered that Toby's youthful actorhood had been carefully concealed, with only the words in the book: "He was an actor." Grant knew that Toby's former colleagues would strongly suggest that he was not an actor at all. .Grant, on the other hand, recalled what had happened this morning and felt that his life was nothing more than a drama.He sets a role for himself and keeps playing it. You might be shocked to find out that Margaret Marianne (Jeffrey Marianne and Brenda Mason's daughter) is much older than the girlish qualities she presents.Maybe once her girlishness wears off, so will her power to touch people.That's why Marta once said that if she had lived ten years longer, her obituary would have been published in a small, unimportant section.

Marta (Winschut's daughter, M.R.C.S.; daughter of L.R.C.P. and his wife Ann Harrer) was absolutely orthodox.She graduated from a top university, and like many of her well-born predecessors, she entered the show business circle with a talking mouth.Grant hopes that the next edition of who's who, at least the next two editions, will include the letter D after Marta's name. B． E. , to comfort her parents who were deceived by her twenty-five years ago. While he was still enjoying reading the book, the phone rang. "Your call to London has been connected, please speak," said the voice.

"Hello," said Grant, "is Miss Searle there?" "I am," replied a pleasing voice.Not bad luck. "Miss Seale, sorry to bother you, do you have a relative named Leslie Seale?" "Yes, but if he has borrowed money from you, I will not pay him back." "Oh, no, that's not the case. Searle went missing while he was in the country with his friend, and we want your assistance in finding him. My name is Grant, and I'm Inspector of Scotland Yard." "Oh." said the voice.She seemed to be thinking about something, but she couldn't hear the panic. "Well, I don't know how I can help you. I don't know Leslie. He doesn't know me, and I don't know him."

"It might be helpful if I could talk to you about Leslie. Are you home tomorrow afternoon?" "Tomorrow afternoon I will go to the Albert Hall to listen to the concert." "Then before lunch?" "You're a very nice policeman," she said. "Criminals never think that way," he replied. "I thought it was Scotland Yard's goal to house criminals. Well, I'm not going out, it's not a very good concert anyway." "So if I come to visit, will you be home?" "I will be." "Thank you." "Did the misnamed photographer leave the family jewelry?"

"No. He just disappeared." She snorted.It was obvious that Miss Searle spoke of her relation without reserve or embellishment. After Grant hung up, Marta returned to the living room, followed by a little boy with firewood.The little boy placed the logs neatly in the fire and looked at Grant in awe. "Tommy wants to ask you some questions," Marta said. "He knows you're a detective." "What's the problem? Tommy." "May I have your revolver, sir?" "I wish I had it with me, but I put it in a drawer at Scotland Yard." Tommy looked disappointed. "I thought you'd have one on all the time. American police are like that. Sir, can you shoot?"

"Yes," said Grant, so that the boy would not be so in awe of him, "you can come to Scotland Yard next time you come to London, and I will show you the revolver." "May I go to Scotland Yard? Oh, thank you. Thank you very much, sir. That would be wonderful." He said goodnight very politely and walked away in high spirits. "Parents thought they could cure their boy's love of weapons by not giving them toy soldiers," Marta said, putting the egg roll on the table. "Come and eat." "Excuse me, I made a bunch of phone calls to London." "I thought you were going to relax." "I wanted it, but suddenly I had an idea, and this is the only progress since I took this case." "Excellent!" she said. "Now you can happily enjoy the wine." There was a little round table decorated with candles by the fire, and they enjoyed their meal in a kindly silence.Mrs. Dupp served the chicken, and Marta introduced her to Grant, who expressed her gratitude to Grant for inviting Tommy to London.After that, the quiet atmosphere remained uninterrupted.After coffee they began to talk about Silas Wickley and the strange family in the alley. "Silas is very proud of his 'working class' life, whatever that term means. His kids are going to be just as bad as him. His humble school background is so boring that you might You will feel that he is the only student in Oxford's history who entered this school from a grassroots school, and he is a typical sour scholar." "What did he do with all the money he earned?" "Who knows, maybe it's buried under the floor of the writing cabin. No one is allowed to enter that cabin. "I met him in that cabin this morning. " "Aaron! You're so smart! What's in there?" "A well-known writer who does nothing." "I think he must have struggled with his writing. He has no imagination at all. I mean, he has no idea what's going on in other people's minds.So his story situations, and how the characters react to them, are clichés.His books are bestsellers because of his 'earthiness', his 'natural power'.We pushed the table back a little closer to the fire. "She opens a cabinet and imitates the cries of the boys on the railway platform:" Dambuie Benedic—tine, Strega, Grand Marnier, BOls (Charteuse, Annag—naC, COgnaC, Rakia, Kum, mel (all wine names) , an assortment of unspeakable french delicacies, and Mrs. Dupp's ginger ale!" "Are you trying to extract official secrets from CIS?" "No, dear, I just wanted to pay homage to your taste. You're one of the few people I know with good taste." She put the wine and glasses on the tray and rested her legs comfortably on the sofa. "Now, tell me," she said. "But I have nothing to tell you," he replied. "I didn't ask you to tell me anything, I meant talk to me. If I were your wife—which is impossible, of course—take me as your audience.You don't think, for instance, that poor stiff Walter Whitemore could be so angry as to kill Searle, do you?" "Yes, I do think so.Sergeant Williams said Walter was just a coward, and I thought so too. " "What did he call him?" Grant explained it to Marta, and Marta said, "Officer Williams was right! Walt should have left." "If this matter cannot be resolved, he may resign automatically." "Yeah, I think he's having a hard time, poor man. The country folks talk a lot. And, by the way, have you got any further news to report to the police? Last time I heard progress was one o'clock." "No, the last time I was in contact with Scotland Yard was no later than six forty-five. I gave them your number and told them they could call within two hours. I hope you don't mind." "Why do you think he might have hitchhiked?" "Because if he wasn't in the river, he must have gone in the opposite direction to the river." "He went in the opposite direction himself? But it doesn't make sense to do so." "He may have suddenly developed amnesia. There are five possible causes of the incident." "Five kinds!" "On Wednesday night, Searle walked into that alley in good health and sobriety. He has been missing since then. The possible reasons are: 1. He accidentally fell into the water and drowned; 2. He was killed and then thrown into the Three, he left for some personal reason; four, he wandered around because he forgot who he was, where he was, and where he was going; five, he was kidnapped." "Kidnapped!" "We don't know anything about his life in America, and we have to take that into account. Maybe he came to this country just to get out of America for a while. These things will have to wait until the report on Searle comes to us from the Pacific coast of America. to find out—if they deliver as promised! Tell me, what do you think Syl is like?" "which aspect? " "Well, for example, do you think he's a prankster?" "Won't." "Yes, so did Elizabeth Gallopy. She said he wouldn't think a prank was funny. What do you think of his relationship with Elizabeth Gallopy? You were at that dinner too. " "Impressive, their relationship is enough to make Walt jealous as hell." "real? " "They were a perfect match. Leslie and Elizabeth were made for each other, and Walter wasn't quite there. I don't think Walter knew Elizabeth well; I think Leslie Seale knew her better. " "Did you like him when you met him? You took him home after dinner that night, didn't you?" "Yeah, the answer to both questions is yes. I admire him with reservations." "What kind of reservation?" "It's hard to describe. I could hardly take my eyes off him, but he never gave me - the real feeling. Sounds weird, doesn't it?" "You mean he's a bit fake?" "It's a very delicate point. It's clear that he walks the talk, as you probably already know, our Miss Easton Dixon can testify." "Yes, I was talking about him this afternoon with Miss Easton Dixon, and that picture of Seale in her hand might be useful. What did you talk about when you brought him home that evening?" "Oh, all kinds of things. People he's photographed, people we all know, people he wants to meet. We spent a lot of time talking about Danny Mings, whom we all admire Kee, argued for a long time about Margaret Marianne again. Like everyone else, he thought Margaret was a genius and would not listen to any criticism of her. I was irritated and told her something The real incident about Margaret. Later, I felt ashamed of myself, and it is very bad behavior to break a child's toy." "I think it's good for him. He's old enough to face the truth of life." "I heard you were collecting alibi today." "how do you know? " "Mrs. Doop. That's how I know what's going on in the world. Which unfortunate people don't have an alibi?" "Nearly all of the villagers don't, including Miss Easton Dixon. " "Our Miss Dixon is gone. Who else?" "Miss Lavinia Fitch." "Dear Lavinia!" Marta laughed at the thought of Miss Fitch killing people in the wilderness. "Where's Elizabeth Gallopy?" "Poor Elizabeth must be very sad. I think she has fallen in love with the boy." "Mrs. Gallopy?" Marta thought about it, "You know what, I wouldn't rule out the possibility that this woman might have committed the crime. She might have committed the crime without hesitation because she would have convinced herself that it was the right thing to do. She might even have committed the crime after committing the crime. Go to church and ask God's blessing." "Where's Toby Tulis?" "No—I don't think so. Toby would have settled the feud in other ways, less risky and more satisfying. Toby is good at developing small vengeances, and I don't think he's going to kill for revenge." "Where's Silas Wickley?" "It's possible, it's possible. Yes, I think it's possible that Silas may have committed a crime, especially since the book he's writing isn't going anywhere. Writing a book is a conduit for hatred for Silas, and if that conduit is blocked Well, he might kill people who are rich and dominant and lucky." "Do you think Vicky is crazy?" "Oh, yes. It may not be proven, but he's definitely out of his mind. By the way, is there any truth to the rumors that Walter and Seale had a big fight?" "Whitemore denied that it was an argument, he said it was just a small dispute." "So they have a grudge against each other?" "I don't know if we have evidence for that. Temporary unhappiness is not the same as bad feelings. A person can disagree with what someone says in a bar, but it doesn't mean he has a prejudice against that person." "Oh, you're stubborn. Of course they don't like each other, and we know exactly why, and that's Elizabeth." "There's no correlation as far as the fourth dimension is concerned, I can't say for sure." said Grant, and snickered at Marta's assertiveness. "Whitemore says Searle is good at 'instigating' people. In your opinion, is he an instigator?" "He might tell Walt that he doesn't know Elizabeth at all, that if Walt doesn't try to improve, he'll take Elizabeth away, and that if Walt thinks he's not worth enough, he's wrong, he'll call Elizabeth packed her bags and went away with him till next Tuesday, betting five pounds that he was right, and then Walter said in a rage that we don't gamble on women's favors in this country, at least gentlemen don't To do that, to bet Elizabeth five quid, is insulting (Walter has no sense of humor, but it's the kind of style that makes him criss-cross the broadcasting world, popular with old ladies who shun the country for fear of being out of it. Mrs. wouldn't recognize a quail if she saw one). Then Leslie might say that if he thought five pounds was too little, he could raise the bet to ten pounds, because if Elizabeth had been like Walter The fake moralist has been engaged for nearly a year, and it is time for Elizabeth to change her mind, so ten pounds is just the fund. So Walter got up and left, and slammed the door hard." "How did you know he slammed the door?" "Jesus, the whole of Oversill knows that's why Walter is the most suspect. By the way, are these all the people who lack alibi?" "No, and Soggy Rodolph." "Oh. What was Soggy doing then?" "Dancing on the grass by the dark river." "It may be true." "Why? Did you see that?" "No. But it's a lot like what Soggy would do. He's always thinking about throwbacks, and just before the Leslie Seale thing he was planning to please Toby with throwbacks; 'Exact' Toby." "How do you know these things?" "I haven't played a producer role for twenty-five years," she said. He looked at her, elegant and beautiful in the firelight; he thought of the parts she had played: high-class courtesan and frustrated crone, career woman and emaciated woman.Actors do have a kind of insight that ordinary people lack, and an understanding of the world.This has nothing to do with IQ, and it has nothing to do with education.Everyone knows that when Marta was eleven years old, she was a demented child. Whenever something was mentioned that she was not interested in, she would automatically skip it without the slightest reaction.He'd seen nurses in hospitals react like this, and sometimes overworked doctors did too.But you just hand her a script, and her secret treasure trove of knowledge pours out, exuding a kind of writer's originality. "Assuming this is really a murder," he said, "judging by the looks and personalities of these people, who do you think is the murderer?" She thought for a moment, turning the glass in the firelight. "Emma Gallopy, I guess," she said, "but could Emma kill him? Physically, I mean." "Possibly. After being separated from Easton Dickson on Wednesday night, she was alone, and no one knew when she returned to Trinian Park. Everyone else was in bed - or rather, in their rooms." inside. The last person to lock the front door was Mrs. Gallopy. " "Yes, plenty of time. Trinity Park is not far from the bend of the river. I wonder what Emma's shoes looked like on Thursday morning, or has she cleaned them?" "Trust me, if she gets mud on her shoes, she'll clean them off. But I think Mrs. Gallopy is a decent person, why would you pick her?" "I think a person kills because he's focused on one thing, or becomes focused on one thing. If you have all kinds of centers, you don't care about one, or even one. Would kill for it. Only when all the eggs are in the same basket, or there is only one egg in the basket, does the person lose his balance.Have I made it clear enough, Inspector Grant?" "Very well said. " "Okay. Have a little more wine. Emma has the most persistent personality among all the suspects. No one would say that Suoji is persistent. Except for transient things, he just wanted to be promoted all his life, and he never showed any signs of wanting to kill people. He has done the most outrageous things, but at most he chose the simplest things to do. " "Nobody whipped him," Grant said, telling her how he had questioned Sorge. "What about Vicky?" "To use your apt analogy, Silas and Emma are the same, but Silas is definitely less likely to commit a crime than Emma. Silas has his own achievements, family, and future books (even if Rehash; Silas doesn't show interest in the same way as Emma, ​​and Silas isn't insane, or irrationally hateful, so he doesn't need to get rid of Syl. Neither does Toby, who has a colorful life Colorful, he will never want to kill anyone, just like I told you just now, he will use many methods to balance himself. But Emma has nothing but Elizabeth." She pondered for a while, and Grant said nothing. "You should have seen Emma's reaction when Walter and Elizabeth announced their engagement,,,, she finally spoke again," She—she was so happy, she shone like a Christmas tree.This has always been her dream, and it has finally come true. Walter fell in love with Elizabeth, the wisest and most beautiful woman in the area, and was about to marry.One day Walter will take over Trinian Manor and Lavinia's property, so even if he is no longer famous one day, they can still live an enviable life.This is simply a remake of a fairy tale.She was light with excitement, and then there came Leslie Seale. "Marta fell silent again. As the wood slid and rattled in the hearth, a new flame burned, and Grant still lay in his chair thinking about Emma Gallopy. And two things Marta didn't know. Oddly enough, Marta's chosen suspect overlapped with two unknowns of the case: a glove in Searle's drawer, and an empty spot in the camera box. Emma, ​​Emma.gallopy.The woman raised her younger sister and then, when her sister was full-fledged, married a widower who already had a child.She pushes her interests like Toby Tullis, doesn't she? She once glowed with her daughter's engagement "like a Christmas tree"; months), her original brilliance must have worn off and developed into something terrifying, a sense of fait accompli, a sense of accomplishment and security.The engagement had lasted five months, and despite events, Emma must have thought it was solid. Then, as Marta said, Leslie Seale showed up. Searle emerges with his charismatic and untrustworthy life, exuding an air of being out of this world.The person who is most disgusted with this modern golden boy is none other than Emma Gallopy. "What can you put in a space that's ten inches long by three and a half inches high and four inches high?" "A comb," said Marta. Psychologists often play a game. Grant remembers that the subjects will have a direct association when they hear a string of words, and make some judgments based on this first association. This should work pretty well.He tried Bill Maddows, and Maddows simply said "screwdriver" without hesitation, just as Marta responded immediately with "a comb."He remembered Williams' answer as a large bar of soap. "Could it be something else?" "A deck of dominoes. A box of envelopes? No, think of something else, several decks of cards? There are enough cards to form an oasis! Cutlery. Spoons. Someone's hiding family silver?" "No, I just thought of something. " "If it's the silverware from Cuining Manor, forget it. None of their silverware will be worth thirty shillings at auction." Her eyes were subconsciously content, and she couldn't be happier with the minimalist Georgian dining table behind her. ''Aaron, tell me which character you think it is, it shouldn't be unprofessional to say it, right? ""Role?" "The murderer." "Not rigorous or professional. But I think it would be bolder if I told you that no one was a murderer." "What! You really think Leslie Seale is alive? Why?" Yeah, why, he asked himself.Why does he feel like he's performing? As if being pushed into the front row of seats so that the notes come between him and the real world.The Deputy Commissioner once told him that he possessed one of the most invaluable talents in his field of work: a keen sense of smell. "But, Grant, don't let it get over you," he said, "keep your eyes on the evidence." Is it just a case of a good sense of smell getting over him? There's only one in a per cent chance of Seale falling into the river , all the evidence shows.If the quarrel with Whitemore had not occurred, Grant might not have dealt with the case at all; then the disappearance might have been a mere drowning. And then? One moment you know, another moment you're confused—the juggler's favorite phrase haunted him. In his semiconscious state he said this very loudly. Marta looked at him and said, "A trick? Who did it? Why?" "I don't know. I have a very strong feeling that I'm being fooled." "You think Leslie just left?" "Or someone or something created the illusion. I had a strong feeling that I was watching something being sawn in half." "You're overworked," said Marta. "Where do you think Leslie might go? Unless he walks back into the village and hides somewhere." Grant was more sober, and jokingly said to her in an appreciative manner, "It's weird, I never thought of it that way. Do you think Toby would hide him to frame Walt?" "No, it's not reasonable. Nor is the assumption that he might just leave. Where could he go in the middle of the night in nothing but a flannel and a raincoat?" "Perhaps my relatives will know better when I see him tomorrow. " "He has relatives? Surprising, like finding out that Mercury (the messenger of the Greek gods.) has relatives by marriage. Who is he?" "It's a woman. A painter, as far as I know. She's lovely. She canceled her Sunday afternoon concert at the Albert Hall in order to wait for my visit at home. I used your number to contact her. " "You expect her to know why Leslie left in the middle of the night in a flannel and a raincoat?" "I wish she could tell me where Leslie might be going." "To borrow a cowboy lingo: I hope you're doing well," Marta said.