Chapter 16 Chapter Sixteen

"Do you want me to drive you back to Wickham?" Rogers asked Grant, but Grant said no, his own car was parked near the mill house, and he could walk over and drive by himself. Marta came out to meet him in the blustery evening and took his arm. "Didn't find it?" she asked. "No." "Come in and get warm." She walked beside him in silence, poured him a large glass of whiskey when she entered the house.The sound of the wind was blocked by the thick walls, and the room was as quiet and warm as last night.The smell of curry came from the kitchen. "Smell what I prepared for you?"

"Curry. Actually, you don't need to prepare food for the police station." "Curry is what you need after a day's work in the beautiful spring of England. Of course, you can also choose to go back to the White Hart Hotel for a normal Sunday dinner, cold tinned beef, two slices of potatoes, three beets and a withered lettuce leaf." Grant couldn't help shivering after hearing this.Sunday night at the White Hart Hotel was almost dead. "And I won't be able to fix dinner for you tomorrow. I have to go back to London. I can't bear to stay at the Mill House any longer. I'm going to stay in London until the rehearsal of Depressed Mood."

"Having you here with me is like saving my life." Grant said, he took out the report from the United States in his pocket, "Please take a look and tell me what clues you think there are." "No," she said after reading it, "no clue, is there?" "I don't know. The first time I looked at it, there seemed to be something wrong." He was lost in confusion again, and then he put it away again. "When you're back in London, too," said Marta, "please introduce Sergeant Williams to me. Would you like to have dinner with us some evening?"

"Of course." Grant said happily and mischievously, "Why are you suddenly interested in the strange Williams?" "Well, there are actually two different reasons: first, it is worth getting to know someone who is smart enough to see that Walter Whitemore is actually a 'coward'. Second, the only time I saw you look happy today , when you were on the phone with Officer Williams." "Oh, that!" he said; and then he told her about Benny Squall, "The Watchmen," and the virtues of Williams.They enjoyed a pleasant Sunday dinner together, and Marta recounted the scandalous story of the "Watchmen" review, and it wasn't until he was about to leave that Marta asked him what he planned to do now that the search for Seale had not turned up.

"Tomorrow morning I will gather some information in Shaka Town," he said, "and then return to London to report to the chief." "and then? " "We will meet again to decide what action should be taken next." "I understand. Don't forget to call me when you're done with everything, and don't forget to arrange a meeting with Sergeant Williams when he's free." As he drove, he thought to himself, what a great thing, what a great thing.No questions, no hints, no women to get to the bottom of things.Her attitude towards the status quo is really masculine, and maybe it's because of her independence that men are intimidated.

When he got back to the White Hart Hotel, he called the police back to see if there was any news, and flipped through the menu hanging by the sideboard to see if the items Marta guessed were right (she forgot the rhubarb stew and the custard, Be sure to tell her next time). This is the last night sleeping in this small room.The words of the Bible may seem hopeless, but it is true that the end of the world is coming.Today's housewives don't do this kind of stuff any more. Everyone puts everything in containers now, and this way of leisure doesn't exist anymore. No, actually of course not.In fact, they stopped knitting colored wool scriptures in their spare time, and everyone went to see Danny Minsky's performances, and spent a penny or two for entertainment.Which kind of entertainment is more substantive to relieve the fatigue of the day than doing boring purple cross-stitching? He looked at the scriptures, and then moved the position of the lamp so that the dark shadows completely covered them. Stay, and then take out the notepad and put it next to the bed.

In the morning he paid for the room, pretending not to see the surprised look of the hotel owner. Everyone already knew that the salvage was fruitless, and everyone knew that there were many different legends about the piece of clothing that was fished out of the river), so the boss couldn't believe that Scotland Yard would evacuate at this juncture, unless there was something wrong. Known secret clue? "Will you come back again, sir?" "It'll be a while," Grant said, scrutinizing his reaction.He really didn't like the stigma of being labeled a loser. After that he went to Cuining Manor.

The morning breath reveals a comforting atmosphere, without a trace of wind, it seems to be smiling gently.The leaves glistened and the pavement steamed in the sun. "Be happy, my dear," said the English spring to its drunken, quivering devotees. The car slid down the slope with a muffled tremor, heading towards Cuining Manor.He looked down at the town of Sacca St. Mary in the valley and thought to himself, three days ago, everything was just what Marta said while chatting, but now it still lingers in his heart. God seemed to tell him that this would not be an unsolvable problem forever.

When he arrived at Cuining Manor, Edith greeted him.She had a look of surprise on her face for a moment at the sight of him, until he asked to take him to Walter.She took him to the unusually cold study, and it was not until Walter showed up that he was saved. "Come into the drawing room, please," said he. "That's our sitting room, and there's a fire." Grant thought displeasedly, that he was thinking of his own comfort, and had no respect for his guests.Walter did feel that way, he watched carefully. "I'm going back to London today," said Grant, "and I have some doubts which I must pursue before I report to my superiors."

"Please." Walter looked very nervous, as if he hadn't slept all night. "Last time I asked you about your trip to the Roshmere River, you said you had picked up the letter at the scheduled post office." "yes." "But there wasn't any letter on Monday, so you must have got it on Tuesday and Wednesday. Do you remember any letters from Searle?" "Inspector, of course I remember that Searle never had any letters." "Never? Do you mean the time Syl was at Trinian Manor?" "Not so far as I know. Elizabeth can also tell you that she handles all the letters."

How could he ignore the slightest message, he thought to himself. "Not even bank or hotel correspondence?" "Not as far as I know. Maybe he did it on purpose. Some people just don't like getting letters." It was possible, so Grant did not continue to ask. "Also about the daily telephone records," he asked. "You called from Townsdale on Sunday night, Capel on Monday night, Friday Street on Tuesday, and where did you call on Wednesday?" "At the public telephone box in Petha district. We were going to camp there, but the deserted factory looked a bit scary, and I remembered that there was a shelter farther away, where the river flows south, so we went to There." "What you reported to Cuining Manor was to camp here." "Yes, I have already told you that we are camping here." "I know you are. I didn't mean to trouble you. Now I want to know who was talking to whom when you were on the phone in petja district?" Walter thought for a while, "Well, I called Miss Fitch first, because she always waited for the call, and then it was Searle's turn to talk to her. After that, Aunt Emma—Mrs. Gallopy—she Talked to Searle for a while, and finally I spoke to Mrs. Gallopy and ended the call. Elizabeth didn't come to answer the phone because of business in the village, so no one spoke to Elizabeth on Wednesday night." "I see, thank you." Grant paused, and then added: "Are you ready to tell me about you on Wednesday night—what the dispute is all about?" Just as Walter was hesitating , Grant asked again: "You don't want to say it's because of Miss Gallopby?" "I don't want her to be involved in this incident," Walter said.Grant couldn't help guessing that his cliché was obviously a British expression, and it was by no means an expression of real emotion. "Let me declare again, I just want to get more detailed information about Leslie Seale, not to convict you. So, let me ask you again, what you said just now, apart from protecting Miss Gallopby, Is there anything to deceive me?" "Of course not. It's really just for Miss Elizabeth Gallopy. You're making a fool of yourself." Grant sneered, "Mr. Whitemore, police officers have already learned to clearly judge what is frivolous in the third year of training in the police academy. If you don't want to add an extra frivolous matter to your record, you should be careful with your words. To me, this sentence is full of wisdom talk. " "No wisdom at all. Syl was not in a stable mood that night." "Unstable? Depressed?" thought Grant, then of course we don't have to consider the possibility of Seale's suicide at this juncture! I'm not good enough for my fiancée Elizabeth or something. I kept trying to change the subject and he just kept bringing it up until I couldn't help but get angry. He started listing all the things he knew about Elizabeth that I didn't, ostentatiously mentioning something and saying, 'I bet you don't know that. "'" Is it a good thing?" "Of course it is," Walter replied immediately, "of course it's a good thing, a happy thing, but everything seems to be deliberately fabricated and extremely provocative. " "Did he mention that he wished he could be you?" "Not only that, but he also said quite frankly that if he really pursued Elisa, he would have been out of the game. I could be out of the game within two weeks, he said." "Didn't he bet you?" Grant couldn't help asking. "No." Walter seemed quite surprised. Grant thought he was going to tell Marta next time that she guessed wrong. "When he talked about putting me out," said Walter, "I thought I couldn't stand him that night, not because I didn't think I was his match, you understand, Inspector; but His disrespect to Elizabeth, to Miss Gallopby. He went so far as to say that Elizabeth was easily tempted to give in." "I understand." Grant said seriously. "Thank you for your clarification. Also, do you think Searle deliberately caused a dispute?" "I didn't think so, I just felt that he deliberately stimulated me because of his overly conceited relationship." "I see. Thanks. May I speak to Miss Fitch? I won't be long." Walter led him into the morning sitting room.Miss Fitch held yellow and red pencils, one in the red nest above her head, the other in her mouth, and sat up and down like an angry kitten.She looked happy to see Grant, but also a little tired and sad. "Any further news, Inspector?" she asked.Grant saw Elizabeth behind her, who seemed very nervous. "No, Miss Fitch, I just came to ask a few questions, and I won't bother you again in the future. I'm really sorry. Will you wait for your nephew's call to report the progress of the trip as usual on Wednesday night?" "yes." "You spoke to him first, I mean, you were the first to speak to him on this side of Trinity. Can you start here?" "Do you mean I'll tell you what we talked about?" "No, please tell me who spoke to whom." "Oh, well, they were in Petha — I'm sure you already know that — and I spoke to Walter first, and then to Leslie. They both sounded happy." Her voice trembled. "Then I called Emma—my sister—to listen, and she talked to them both for a while." "Were you there when she was talking on the phone?" "No, I'm going upstairs to my room to listen to the Suzie Sklund impersonation. There's only ten minutes on one Wednesday every month, and she's so good that I can't get through her show if I'm listening to Emma on the phone. ""I see.What about Miss Gallopy?" "Elizabeth came back from the village too late to speak to them." "Do you remember what time it was?" “I don’t remember the exact time, but it was about twenty minutes before dinner. We had dinner early that night because my sister was attending a WRI party that night. Our dinner times at Trinity Manor tended to fit in with everyone’s schedules table, sometimes earlier and sometimes later.” "Thank you very much, Miss Fitch. I wonder if it is convenient for me to look at Syl's room again, and I will never bother you again in the future." "of course can." "I'll take the inspector up," said Elizabeth.She ignored Walter on the side and insisted on taking him upstairs. Before Miss Fitch could stop her, she got up from the typewriter and led the Inspector out. "Inspector, are you here because you've reached a conclusion, or not; shouldn't I ask that?" she said as they went upstairs. "I came here just for routine. This is the task that police officers must perform; it is also to make a detailed report to the superiors, and then let them decide the truth of the facts." "However, I believe it will be up to you to draw the conclusion first." "It is also up to me to decide to delete the content of the report." He said coldly. His indifference did not repel her. "It's not logical at all, is it?" she agreed. "Walter said he couldn't have fallen into the river for no reason, and it's strange that he actually fell in." She stopped in front of the balcony of the upstairs room, her face was clearly illuminated by a light from the roof, and she turned to him and said, "I'm pretty sure that Walter had absolutely nothing to do with Leslie's death." It doesn't matter. Trust me, Inspector. I'm not defending him because he's Walter, my fiancé.I have known him for a long time, and I know very well what he dares to do and what he dares not to do.It is impossible for him to physically harm anyone, please believe me. He—he just didn't have the guts to do it. "Grant noticed that even his fiancee thought he was a coward. "And please don't be misled by my gloves, Inspector. Please believe me, Leslie just picked it up, put it in his pocket, and planned to return it to me in the future. I've been looking for another one , just can't find it. The most reasonable explanation is that the glove fell off accidentally, and Leslie just found it and helped me pick it up." "Why didn't he put you back in the car?" "I don't know. Why do you do that? It's an instinctive reaction to pick it up and put it in your pocket. The point is that he didn't put it away on purpose, and Leslie didn't mean that to me at all." The point, Grant thought, was not that Leslie liked Elizabeth, but whether Walt thought Elizabeth liked Leslie. Grant wanted to ask Elizabeth how it felt to be a girl knowing her fiancé was a gutsy man, and also thought of the shadow of Eden, a fugitive from a sunken Atlantic island, a plainly dressed demon. But these questions, while slightly related, are completely moot.When he asked her later if Searle had received any letters at Trinian Park, she said she knew of none.Then she went downstairs, and he went into the attic room. Apart from his personality, everything about Seale remains in this tidy room. As he had not seen it by day, he now gazed for a moment from the three large windows of the room at the garden and valley below.It's nice not to have to worry about the proper architectural configuration of the house, since people have reserved the best views for the windows.Then he continued to carefully observe Syl's relics, patiently checking one by one, hoping to find some signs or unexpected discoveries.He sat on a low stool, and the photography case, which contained most of the items a photographer should have, rested on the floor between his feet.He couldn't figure out what exactly—chemicals or tools—would have been in that opening.The void had remained in place, exactly as it had been the last time he had seen it, and what had been in that small void was still a mystery. It's just a small vacancy, and the things that can be packed are inherently abstract, not to mention that what you see in front of you is just a simple outline.There's no reason to doubt what might have been inside.But lord, can you tell me what the hell is going to be in here? He tried to put the little camera in again - and knew it wouldn't fit.He also put in a pair of Seale's shoes and managed to squeeze it in.But there was almost two inches more, and the protrusion was against the upper end, so that the bottom box was too crowded and the lid could not be fully closed.But obviously there are other big boxes, why use this photography box to pack clothes? No matter what was originally in the bottom layer, it was definitely not put in casually or hastily, because the packing method is too skillful and neat. This suggests that what was originally placed there must have been taken out by Searle himself. Well, conservatively inferred, this is how he disappeared. He restored things neatly to the state in which they were before his search; he took another look at the Roschmere Valley and thought he had had enough; Everything stays in this room.