Chapter 16 Chapter Sixteen

The Takahashi Magistrates' Court is housed in a dilapidated building.The corruption beneath the grandeur of the building is mixed with the deliberate sanitization and artificial conviviality of a hospital.Boring lecture halls, stuffy air-conditioning ducts, ugly meeting rooms.Grant was so familiar that he never stepped in here without shaking his head and sighing, not at the invisible webs of the building, but at the fact that he had to waste a morning in this environment.His morning at the Takahashi Magistrate's Court made him feel that his profession was worse than that of a dog.After the whole day, his mood plummeted to the bottom.He found himself gazing with eccentric eyes at the disparate dossiers and reports of the police authorities in court, at the affable but self-righteous court judges, at the loafers in the public gallery.He was aware of his gagging mentality.He looked around for distraction.After a brief meditation, the uncomfortable feeling disappeared, but he felt uncomfortable about giving his testimony again! From the bottom of his heart, he shouted: "Wait a minute! There are still some details that have not been clarified. Wait until I figure it out." However , as the detective of the Criminal Police Department.The impeccable evidence and the praise of his superiors prevented him from doing so.He could not present the anomalies he had observed.He watched from a distance the lawyer who was defending Ramon sitting on the other side of the courtroom.What Ramon needs is a stronger lawyer when he stands trial at London's Central Crown Court or at a time when he has no chance of winning.But powerful people cost big bucks, and lawyers are usually experts, not philanthropists.

After two cases were rushed through, Ramon was brought to court.He looked sickly, but very calm.He smiled and thanked the Inspector for his presence.His appearance caused a commotion in the court gallery.The media did not release the news that the case will be heard today, and most of the people present were idlers or relatives and friends of the defendants in other cases.Grant searched for Mrs. Everey, but she was not there.The only friends Ramon had in court seemed to be paid people to have their own interests.In addition, Grant took an extra look at each face out of personal interest. He found that the useful information before can actually be seen from the expressions of these interested people in court.After careful observation, nothing new was found, and there was nothing but curiosity on the faces of the audience.After giving his testimony, he took out the velvet box and saw someone coming in from the back of the courtroom. This latecomer was Miss Dimore.Miss Dimore had not yet taken a week's vacation, as she had said at that fateful tea, that her annual vacation was spent at the vicarage.When Ramon sat down, Inspector Grant was impressed by this girl who had no softness for men, who believed that crime was unforgivable, and who ended her vacation early and traveled five hundred miles by train to hear the testimony.With his back to her, Ramon had no way of knowing she was there unless he had walked around the court on purpose.She met Grant's eyes and nodded her head in greeting with grace.In her elegant dark dress and tiny hat, she looked like the most perfect, demure, and most attractive woman in the world.She behaved like a writer looking for a subject to write about.Even when Ramon was remanded and taken out of court, her good looks remained unmoved.They were really alike, aunt and niece, Grant thought; and that might be why they didn't like each other.As she got up to leave, Grant came up to say hello.

"Is there anything urgent you need to do, Miss Dimore? Would you like to have lunch with me?" "I thought the cops lived off beef concentrate pills or something like that. Do they really have time to sit down and eat?" "Not only that, but they eat very well. Come and see!" She smiled and followed him. He takes her to Laurent's.After dinner, she confessed to him that she had changed her original plan. "After all this happened, I couldn't stay in Karnich anymore," she said. "When I heard that he was going to appear in court, I was scared, so I came. I have never been in my life. It's not a comfortable situation without going to court."

"It's fine in the Magistrate's Court," he agreed, "but when you see the larger trial—" "I hope not--but I'm sure I'll go. You've got a nice case, haven't you?" "That's what my superiors said." "Don't you yourself disagree?" she asked quickly. "Oh, yes, indeed." He had confessed to Mrs. Everett that there was one more thing he hadn't got an answer to, but he didn't need to spread it.This independent girl is indeed what is called "four around". She quickly turned the subject on to Ramon, "He looks bad," she said in a judgely tone, using "bad"

to express professional knowledge. "Are they going to take him back to jail?" "Yes," said Grant, "they'll take good care of him." "Is it possible for them to torture him? I want to warn you first that in his current condition, he cannot withstand torture. It doesn't matter whether his behavior is really that bad, or whether he admits that he killed someone." "You don't believe he really did it?" "I don't think it's possible, but I know very well that what I think doesn't change the facts. I just hope he gets fair treatment. "Grant noted that she was savvy enough to accept that he had told her at Carnich that Ramon was guilty.

"So," she said, "you should know better than I do. I haven't seen him for the past three days. I like him—it doesn't aggravate or clear his guilt. And, I'd rather lose my mind than be an idiot." Grant listened quietly to what a woman would say.She restates her question. "Well, no," he said. "This isn't America. Anyway, he's given his statement, and as you heard, he's not going to change his mind or make up another story." "Does he have any other friends?" "Only your aunt, Mrs. Everett." "Who paid for his defense?"

Grant explained to her. "Then he won't have any good lawyers. I don't think that's very fair—the law puts the famous lawyers in the suits, and the unknown lawyers have to defend the penniless suspects." Grant smiled, "He'll be treated fairly, don't worry. Only the police will get bumped in this case." "In your past experience, have you ever been involved in a case of lapse in law enforcement?" "Yes, but not much," Grant admitted generously. "But those are the cases of Zhang Guan Li Dai. This case will not have such problems."

"No. There must be cases where there is no direct evidence, but many unrelated incidents are put together to make them seem like some kind of evidence. It's like a quilt." After the inquiry was enlightened, she was too emotional to calm down.Grant assured her, and changed the subject—he was silent; a thought came to him suddenly.If he had gone south to Eastbourne alone, Mrs Lockleigh would have been alarmed by his presence and doubted his sincerity.But if he showed up with a woman, he would be presumed to be on leave, to defuse the impasse that his presence might cause, so that he could completely disarm Mrs. Locklear.The adventure depended on success—she was totally unprepared for his preparedness.

"Listen," he said, "what are your plans this afternoon?" "No. How?" "Did you do a good deed today?" "No, I feel selfish today." "Well, cheer up, how about being my cousin in the afternoon, and come with me to Eastbourne, and play the role of cousin until dinner, how would you like it?" She looked at him seriously, "I don't know. Are you going after some other poor soul?" "Not really. I guess I'm trying to figure out one thing." "I don't know," she said slowly, "if it was just for fun, I'd be dying to go with you.

But if I'm meeting someone I've never met for something I don't know about—what do you think?" "I can't tell you what I did there, but I promise you you'll never regret doing it. You trust me now, will you come with me?" "But why should I trust you?" she asked slyly. "I don't know why," he admitted, "the police are just like normal people, they can lie too," "Besides, she is more scheming than ordinary people." She continued his words sarcastically. "It's up to you whether you go or not. But, you will never regret taking the trip.

I swear to God - the police don't lie, they just need to use the snack machine once in a while. She was amused. "That's exactly what you're like, isn't it?" she said brightly. He hesitated. "Well, I'd love to be your cousin and go with you. Few of my cousins ​​are so handsome. "Her teasing tone was too obvious to Grant to swallow the compliment. They left the city and traveled across the green countryside to the seaside. Fortunately, everything went well.Grant looked around, marveling at the landscape of the Downs on the east coast of England unfolding before his eyes.Like a person sneaking into a room on tiptoe, the owner of the house was startled by a person who suddenly appeared in the room.He had never felt that the journey to the south coast had come so soon.There were only the two of them in the room of the carriage, and he further instructed her face-to-face. "I'll be staying in Eastbourne - no I can't. I don't look like this - we two come here from London for an afternoon and then we go in and meet two ladies who know me from work Greetings. When the subject turns to the brim pin, I want you to take this out of your bag and say you bought it for your sister. By the way, your name is Eleanor Raymond, and your sister is Mary.that's it.Then leave the brooch until I start adjusting my tie.This code means that I already know what I want to know. " "Okay. By the way, what's your name?" "Aaron." "Okay, Aaron. I almost forgot to ask your name. It's funny, I don't even know my cousin's name...the world is full of wonders, isn't it? Seeing those primroses in the sun and thinking back to this moment people in deep misery." "Don't be like that, just say silly things. Think about it, and in a few minutes we'll see a pleasant empty beach." "Have you ever been to the old Victorian playhouse?" she asked.As the train pulled in they couldn't stop talking about the wonderfulness of "Miss Bayliss."Grant said: Come here, Eleanor, and take her in your arms, and drag her out of the car like a little boy who can't wait to play with a spade on the beach. The beach, as Grant had predicted, was the most attractive summer resort on the south coast because of its openness and pleasantness. The sun is shining here and it is very warm. A few groups of people are lying on the small pebble beach to sunbathe, like nobles who are isolated by the summer tourists. "We're going to walk on the trail first, and then walk along the beach when we come back," Grant said. "In this weather, they might be sunbathing on the beach." "They would be crazy to want to leave Downs," she said. "I don't care about walking a little bit more, but it's probably only a quarter of the way to tomorrow." "I don't think it's going to be like that in Downs. I dare say the lady I'm going for can't walk very far." "what is her name? " "I'll keep it a secret now, and I'll introduce you to you later. You pretend you've never heard of her, and it's better if you don't know about her." They walked quietly to Halliwell along the neat and tidy walk.Everything here is refreshing.Orderliness and crispness are the hallmarks of Eastbourne.Even the sea is calm and waveless, which is a bit special.And the beachhead also looks like it was there intentionally, as the end of the walkway.When they hadn't gone ten minutes Grant said, "Let's get to the beach now. I'm sure we just passed the two ladies I'm looking for, and they're on Pebble Beach." They left the sidewalk and began to stroll back to the jetty.In a few moments they approached the two women reclining on deck chairs looking out to sea. The weaker one, curled up with his back to Miss Dee Moore and the Inspector, was reading a book.The other is equipped with magazines, stationery and umbrellas, which are ubiquitous on the beach in the afternoon, and she does nothing. She seems to be closing her eyes and resting.When they reached the chairs next to each other, the Inspector carefully set his eyes on them and stopped. "What about you, Mrs. Locklear!" said he. "Are you here to recuperate? What a lovely day!" Mrs. Locklear, with a flash of surprise in her eyes, responded enthusiastically to him. "Do you remember my sister, Miss Liebager?" Grant shook her hand and said, "I don't think you've seen my cousin—" God is really kind to Grant today.Before he could explain his reason for being here, Miss Liebager said lazily but cheerfully, "My God! This is not Miss Dantimore! How are you?" "You guys know each other?" Grant asked, feeling like a man who opens his eyes and realizes that one more step is going to take him down the abyss. "It's more than acquaintance!" said Miss Liebager. "I was in St. Michel's Hospital when I had appendicitis, and thanks to Miss Dantimo who turned me over every once in a while. I had to praise her in front of her, She's doing very well. Margaret, shake hands with Miss Dymore. This is my sister, Mrs. Locklear. Who would have thought you had a famous cousin!" "I suppose you're here to recuperate too, Inspector?" said Mrs. Locklear. "The same way," Grant said, "my cousin is on vacation and I just solved a case, so we're here for the day." "It's not time for afternoon tea yet, sit down and chat with us. I haven't seen Dante in years. "You must be glad you got that sticky case solved, Inspector. ’ said Mrs. Lockleigh’s sister, as they sat side by side on the boulder. She said the murder was no surprise to Grant in his life, but the worst thing that had ever happened to them, but the Inspector said a little. No mention of the table. The topic immediately changed from the murder case to health, restaurants, resort hotels, food and clothing, without talking about the case. "I like your hat brooch," said Miss Dimore casually to her friend, "and I can't think of anything but hat pins this afternoon, because we just bought a brooch to give away." Another cousin of ours who's getting married. You know—it's like buying a new coat and not seeing someone else's coat. I still have this brooch." She didn't change. Sitting reclined, she searched in the purse, dug it out, and took out a small blue velvet box. "What do you think is in here?" She opened the box, and held the brooch before their eyes. "It's beautiful!" said Miss Liebager.Mrs. Lockleigh remained calm. "M.R," she said at last. "Why is this initials the same as my initials? What's your cousin's name?" "Mary Raymond." "That name sounds like that hypocritical heroine of a legend," said Miss Liebager. "Is that really her personality?" "No, not quite, but she's a commonplace. Do you like the brooch?" "I love it so much!" said Miss Liebager. "It's beautiful!" said her sister. "May I have a look at it?" She held the box in her palm, looked carefully at the brooch from side to side, and gave it back to Miss Deemore. "It's beautiful!" she repeated. "You can't put it down. Do you buy it off the shelf?" Grant shook his head lightly in reply to Miss Dimore's eyes asking for help. "No, we made it to order," she said. "Miss Mary Raymond is lucky! If she doesn't like the brooch, she must have terrible taste." "Well, if she doesn't like it," Grant said, "she'll say nicely that she likes it, and we won't know anyway. All women tell white lies." "Hypocritical," said Miss Liebgill, "poor people." "Isn't it? Your social life is really a long list of lies. You feel very sorry—you're not at home—you could have been, but—you wished your friends had stayed longer. If you hadn't asked Your friends tell a little lie to lie to your servants." "I will lie to my friends," said Mrs. Lockleigh, "but I will never lie to my servants!" "Won't you?" said Grant, turning slowly to face her.With the drooping hat covering his eyes and his lazy body leaning against the back of the chair, it is almost impossible for anyone who sees him to believe that Inspector Grant is working on a case at this moment. "You were going to America after the murder, weren't you?" She nodded silently. "Then why did you tell your maid that you were going to Yorkshire?" Mrs. Locklear sat up straight, then sank back into her chair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm pretty sure I never told my maid that I was going to Yorkshire. I meant New York." Grant was obviously preemptively asking, "But she thought you were talking about Yorkshire." Mrs. Lockleigh said, "How do you know?" "There's nothing in the world that the police don't know about," he said. "There's nothing in the world you don't do, is there?" she said bitterly. "Have you got something to do with Annie? I'm not surprised you'd suspect me of a murder." "I didn't think so," Grant said. "The police are suspicious of everything under the sun." "Then, should I be grateful to you? Your skeptical attitude is worse than my maid strike." Grant caught Miss Deemore's eyes staring at him from under her short-brimmed hat, and a new expression lit up her eyes. Their conversation revealed that Mrs. Locklear was involved in the team murder, and Miss Dimore couldn't help thinking about it.Grant smiled reassuringly at her. "They think I've come with bad intentions," he said, "but you should at least support me. I live for justice." Of course she could see that, when she thought about it, his investigation in this direction was to vindicate Ramon. clear suspicion.This possibility has to be confirmed by side-by-side. "Let's go back to tea!" said Miss Liebager. "Come to our hotel, or shall we sit somewhere else, Margaret? I'm tired of fish sandwiches and currant cakes." .” Grant suggested going to a teahouse famous for its cakes, and helping to pack Lockleigh's random personal belongings. As he did so, he purposely let the stack of papers fall on the sand, half-written on the first page, and Mrs. Lockley's large, round handwriting caught his eye in the harsh sunlight. "Sorry!" he said, restacking the stationery and magazines. Afternoon tea may be successful in terms of food function, but in terms of social function, Grant felt that it was a failure. Two of his three companions stared at him with distrust that he couldn't ignore, and the third—Liebjill Meyer—gaily pretended not to notice her sister's tacit tantrums when she was nervous.When they said good-bye to each other and Grant walked with his lady companion towards the station in the fading daylight, he said: "Miss Deemore, you are a straight woman. I will never forget that." She made no answer.On the way home she was very quiet, dispelling his original dissatisfaction.Why doesn't this girl trust him? Does she think he's a monster, using her unscrupulously as she thought before? The bystander part of him puts on a contemptuous smile and says, "You, a policeman, come and beg people to trust you Why, even a Machiavellian is more likable than a Scotland Yard Constable." Grant's mouth twisted slightly whenever Grant was at war, and tonight it was very obvious.He found that the questions that troubled him did not have exact answers.He didn't even know if Mrs. Lockley recognized the brooch. Although he saw her handwriting, it didn't help the result, women with large, round handwriting accounted for a disproportionately large percentage.Her momentary pause at the sight of the brooch might just be because she saw the puzzling initials.It's also possible that her vague questions were entirely inadvertent.On the other hand, there was little about her that was particularly suspicious.If she is really related to the murder case, then she must be very cunning and keep her face.She had played him once, on the first day of the investigation, when he had carelessly ruled her out.There was nothing to prevent her from fooling him again, unless he found a fact so bad that she couldn't explain it. "What do you think of Mrs. Lockley?" he asked Miss Dymore's opinion.In the compartment of the carriage there was only a country bumpkin and his girl. "Why?" she asked. "Is this a chat or a case?" "Say, Miss Dee Moore, are you embarrassed to show up with me?" "I don't think that's a good description of how I feel," she said. "I don't often feel like an idiot, but tonight I did." Her sarcasm stung him. "But you don't have to," he said with great embarrassment, "you're doing well, and your performance isn't as bad as you think. I've got a tough problem, so I asked you to help me, that's all. I need a woman's opinion to help me judge - the opinion of an unbiased woman." "Well, if you really need me to be honest, I think that woman is stupid." "Oh? Don't you think she is cunning, the city is deep?" "I don't think her city is too deep." "You think she's really superficial? But—" he considered. "You ask me how I feel about her, and I'll tell you what I mean. I think she's a superficial fool." "Where's her sister?" Grant asked, even though the question was irrelevant to the investigation. "She's different, she's a brain and a personality, although you might not think so." "Tell me, is it possible for Mrs. Lockley to kill?" "No, of course not." "Why is it impossible?" "Because she doesn't have the guts," said Miss Dimore gracefully. "She may be able to commit the crime patiently, but the whole world will know it in less than a minute, and it will spread as long as she lives in the future." "You don't think she might have known who did it, but was deliberately hiding it?" "You mean the fact that who killed someone?" "yes." Miss Dimore sat watching Grant's still face carefully.The train paused and slid, and the light of the station's bright lights streamed slowly by. "Love Regis! Love Regis!" cried the porter.Stepping heavily onto the empty platform.She waited for the unwelcome voices to fade away and the train started moving again before she spoke. "I wish I could see what you're thinking right now," she said desperately. "Have I been fooled by you twice in one day?" "Miss Dimo, believe me, so far I don't think you have done anything stupid. I'm willing to bet you, although I never do it." "Mrs. Lockley may be hiding the truth," she said, "but, I tell you, I think there must be a reason for her silence about the murder. That's it." He wasn't sure if her last four words meant that was all she could tell him, or that his questioning was over.In any case, she offered him another direction of thought, and he remained silent until they reached Victoria Station. "Where do you live?" he asked, "Isn't it in a hospital?" "No, I live in the club house in Cavendish Square." He declined his offer to take her home, so they said good-bye on the doorstep, and she declined his invitation to dinner. "You still have a few days left on your vacation," he said with concern, "how do you want to spend it?" "First, I'll visit my aunt. I've come to the conclusion that a demon who knows everything is less terrifying than a person who knows nothing." Grant saw her teeth glimmering in the hallway, and walked away feeling a lot less pained by being misunderstood for the past few hours.