Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

Grant was depressed all day long.Scotland Yard had never seen him look so sad.He even took it upon honest Williams, only to startle him by calling out to him for the mild pink face.Mrs. Field involuntarily lashed out at the Scots: their food, their manners, their weather, and their whole place: and after the child had settled the accounts in a fit of anger, she said to her husband plausibly: "If four days in the country Just make him what he is now, and live for a month?" This is the episode after Mrs. Field saw Grant take out the filthy ragged tweed pants he was wearing when he raided, and she made no secret of her embarrassment. Stubbornly opinionated, Grant bore her with the restraint with which his own troubled thoughts were suppressed.Returning to his daily routine, he paused to ask himself a question as he came to an end dealing with arrears.What exactly has he unraveled? What possible avenues has he left out to explore? He tries not to question himself, tries to accept the general statement that criminal cases are too perfect to be true, tries to agree with Balker that he is too " sensitive"

Need advice on taking a good vacation.However none of this worked.The feeling of something wrong overwhelmed him again after a few minutes, and he stopped torturing himself.The facts of the conviction slowly built up, and the investigation was fruitless.The dreary days passed, and he could regain his mind on the first day. Two weeks later, when he saw the unknown corpse and retried the details of the case, the situation went from bad to worse.What was he missing? A dagger could provide very little clues—none from individual incidents.No one claimed they had seen or owned that dagger.From the dagger, it can only be confirmed that there is a scar on the murderer's hand-this evidence cannot be concluded until more clues are assembled.

One moment, one moment, one moment and another, but they are all involved in each other, retaining their respective integrity in the whole event.Grant gave up all, as before, with the conviction, superstitious and irrational, that the pearl brooch in Sorrell's pocket was the answer to the whole mystery.It was telling its story aloud to them, and they were not hearing it. It and the dagger are now side by side on Grant's table, and it has been arousing Grant's association intentionally or unconsciously. While Williams was reporting to his superiors, he had nothing to do but take the brooch and dagger out of the drawer and sit staring at them dreamily.They became his fetishes.There was some connection between the two—they were gifts Sorrell had bought for women and the dagger with which Sorrell had been killed.When he was playing with these two things on the table, his feeling was so strong and clear that it was like warm sunlight shining on his hands.His own reason and other senses laughed loudly at his idea.The brooch has absolutely something to do with the case! Giovad Ramon killed Sorrell with an Italian knife after a dispute with Sorrell, who was in line - his grandmother was Italian and he had not inherited If you own this knife, you may inherit the legacy of using this knife.The play he wrote and directed is that after he sent Sorrell out of England, he left him unemployed and destitute.Sorrell had money to travel, but no money to lend him.According to him, he had no idea Sorrell left him money until two days after the murder.

Where did the pearl brooch come into the affair? The silver dagger with the enamel handle was the star of the case—the king of the evidence.It has been photographed, commented on.It has become a topic of gossip in every household in the UK. There are slightly damaged marks on the icon on the handle of the relief.In the end, the pearl brooch, which never came to light in the case, glowed safely and fieryly, escaping entirely from petty theories. This is downright ridiculous.Grant didn't want to look at the thing again, and he kept pacing up and down, like a man reacting to his wife's teasing.

He tried to "close his eyes" - his usual way when he was in trouble - and even tried to distract him by laughing.At one point, he allowed himself to work for a long time.But whenever he opened his eyes again, he still saw the brooch.This kind of thing had never happened before—when he opened his eyes again, he didn't see another new angle of the case.He wanted to find the last key of the case - the key to life and death - but it was silent, it was there for him to decipher, and he didn't know how to do it. Assuming, he thought, just assuming that the murderer had been someone else, not a dispute in the ranks, what kind of man was the murderer? Couldn't have been one of those closest to the dead man, yes.But no one broke into the line except the policeman, the porter, and Ramon.Or was there such a person who escaped afterwards and was not noticed? Hau Lego had to go first, and Ramon also left, and the person disappeared in the group without being detected-one reason was that the people in the group didn't care about others. , Moreover, they only care about the murder at the scene.Could there be another person? It would be a tough job, he reminded himself, to get those around these witnesses to confirm that they were there.

Except for Hau Lego, who was regarded as a gringo by the British, who received more attention, the other British people were just entertainers to him. side. Others didn't think of it as a sideshow, they ignored the people on the left and right, all self-scrutinizing Londoners and regular queues.It's still possible that someone left the team, but was overlooked for a while.If so, what chance was there of getting him out now? What possible lead? A brooch, another self told him, was a brooch! According to reports, Ramon's lawyers defended Ramon's confession.Grant had counted on him to plead on practical issues, but he was apparently primarily protesting Ramon's pretrial conviction.Grant realized that this possibility would only be accepted by bringing up the fact that Ramon had intended to see Sorrell off.The judge said he had seen no strong evidence of that from police.The prisoner is clearly willing but uneasy about making a statement.But Ramon's defense attorneys pointed out that his client made this important statement while he was in a state of physical and mental health, barely recovering from an uncomfortable concussion.His health is not yet suitable... The long and vague dispute continued, and the two people in dispute-Grant and Ramon-sat a little tiredly, waiting for the end of this eloquent confrontation soon, and they could Breaking free, one returns to his cell, the other returns to his work and lingering obsessions.Miss Dimore appeared in the courtroom again, and this time she was, to Grant, elegant and distinguished.The visit to his aunt seemed to have the miraculous effect of gradually softening her attitude, and Grant thought of Mrs. Everey with wonder.On the way back to Scotland Yard, it occurred to him that her aunt's trust in Ramon had come from his own irrational and illogical hope, which had endowed her with an extraordinary charm that made her look radiant.Grant dared say she expected Ramon to be acquitted in the end, but if he was sentenced, wouldn't her efforts be in vain? Pearl brooch! It spoke.Who has ever been in a line? He shut himself in his room and stared out of the window.He put aside official duties.He's not in the mood for work right now.

It is insufficient evidence that he confronts difficult problems that no one else has discovered.Balck would laugh at him! Let him laugh as he likes.Balck's imagination was like a stone embedded in the ground, and he, Grant, was never lacking in his imagination when working on a case.It's time for him to give up.There are at least two people here who will be grateful to him -- two people eager to succeed him.In this case, he couldn't think any more. Just as he found the answer and turned back from the window, taking out the brooch again from the drawer, Balck interrupted him. "I heard they made a lot of noise about the confession," said his superior.

"yes." "What do they think it's good for?" "Don't know. I guess it's for the client. They know we might use some of the confessions, I suppose." "Let them goof off, then," Balck said, "they can't come up with any evidence. Whether he confesses or not, we're all ready to toast. Are you still bothering about it?" "No, I've given up. After this morning, I decided to trust what I saw, not what I felt." "Excellent!" said Balck. "You have pulled the reins of your imagination, Grant, and one day you will be a great man. Five years is enough to develop a skill, and if you can use it well, It will be a great asset to you." He grinned kindly at his subordinate.

A constable appeared at the door and said to Grant, "A lady wants to see you, sir." "who is it? " "She didn't give her name, but she said she has very important business." "Okay, bring her in." Balke moved his body as if to leave, but Xuan Nian backed away.Both were silent while they waited for the visitor to come in.Balck leaned slightly against Grant's desk, and Grant stood behind it.With his left hand he fiddled with the handle of the brooch drawer.Then, the door opened, and the patrolman ushered the visitor in, repeating the official announcement, "A lady wants to see you, sir."

It was the plump lady in the line. "Good afternoon, Mrs. War--less," said Grant, after a moment's hesitation, remembering her last name.He hadn't seen her since the last interrogation. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Good afternoon, Inspector," she said in her defiant Cockney accent, "I've come because enough of this has been done. I killed Albert Sorrell. I wouldn't want anyone to People are implicated." "You—" said Grant, hesitating, looking at her oily face, beady eyes, black satin fitted coat and black satin cap.

Balck watched his subordinate, saw his confused face—seriously, Grant should take a good vacation—and took control of the situation. "Sit down, Mrs. Wallace," he said, smiling, "you've been thinking too much about the case, haven't you?" He found a chair and seated her as if she were asking him for advice. How to treat angina. "It's not the right time to add to the murder. What makes you think you killed Sorrell?" "I don't think so," she said sharply. "I never doubted it. Should I? It's a good job!" "Okay," Balck said indulgently, "let's talk. How do we know you did this case?" "How do you know?" she repeated. "What are you talking about? So far, you don't know anything about it, but when I tell you now, you will understand." "However, you have to understand that just because you said you killed people, there is no reason for us to believe your words." Balk said. "Don't believe me!" she said, raising her voice an octave. "Is there anyone who obviously didn't kill someone but came forward and said that he did it?" "Well, it happens often." She sat surprisingly still, her bright, expressionless dark eyes flicking from one to the other.Balck raised his funny eyebrows at the still silent Grant, but Grant barely noticed him. As if suddenly relieved from his obsessive immobility, he emerged from behind the desk and approached the woman. "Mrs. Wallace," said he, "will you take your gloves off for a moment?" "There's some sense now," she said, as she pulled off her black cotton gloves. "I know what you're looking for, but it's coming back." She held out her gloved left hand to him, a raised scar on the inside of her first finger.Grant let out a long breath.Balk came over and bent over to examine the woman's hands. "But, Mrs. Wallace," said he, "why did you kill Sorrell?" "No reason," she said, "I killed him, and that's enough." "I'm afraid that's not the case," said Balker. "The fact that you have that little scar on your hand doesn't prove anything at all about your involvement in Sorrell's death." "But I told you I killed him!" she said. "Why don't you believe me? I killed him with the pocket knife my husband brought back from Spain." "That's what you said, but there's no evidence that your words are true." She stared at them both with hostility. "The cops don't always listen to what people are saying," she said. "If you hadn't arrested that young man, I'd be home by now. I never saw Over this idiot. I have surrendered myself, what else do you want?" "Well, it's not over yet," Balck said, while Grant remained silent. "You were in front of Sorrell in the line, how did you kill him?" "I wasn't in front of him, I stayed behind him until the line started to move. After that, I stabbed him and after a while, I was in front and right next to him, that's why he didn't The reason for the fall." At this moment, Balk stopped his polite manner and looked at her severely. "Who are you, Sorrell, that you want to stab him with a knife?" he asked. "Albert Sorrell is none of me. He was killed, I killed him, understand? That's all." "You know Sorrell?" "yes." "How long have you known him?" This question made her hesitate, "For a while." "How did he offend you?" Her tightly pursed lips tightened even more.Balck looked at her resignedly, and Grant saw that he was about to change tack. "So, Mrs. Wallace, I'm sorry," he said, as if the interview was over. "We can't believe what you're saying, it all looks like nonsense. You think too much about it. A lot of people do, you know, every now and then, they Start pretending they did it. You better go home now and stop thinking about it." There was timid panic on her face as Balker expected her to go, and then her quick eyes flicked to Grant, examining him. "I don't know who you are," she said to Balker, "but Grant The Inspector must take my word for it." "This is Mr. Balker, Chief Inspector of Police," said Grant, "my sir. You must tell the full story to the Chief Inspector, Mrs. Wallace, so that he will believe you." She flatly refused.Before she regained her composure, Balk said, "Why did you kill Sorrell? We won't believe you unless you give a good reason. Apart from that small scar, there is nothing to suggest that you were involved in the murder." .I guess it's the little scar that keeps you thinking, huh?" "That's not it!" she said, "do you think I'm crazy? Tell you, I'm not. I'm fine and I'll tell you exactly how I killed him. Is that okay? " "Well, of course it's not enough. You can fabricate a set of murder stories casually, but what we want is evidence." "Well, the scabbard of the knife is in my house now," she said triumphantly, "and this is the proof you want." "But I'm afraid that's insufficient evidence," said Balck, with feigned regret. "Anyone could have a scabbard in their house. Before we begin to believe your story, you must tell us that you killed Riel's reason." "Okay," she said calmly after a while, "if it has to be said. I killed him because he wanted to shoot my Rose. "Who is Rose?" "My daughter." "Why did he shoot your daughter?" "Because she refused to accept his affection." "Does your daughter live with him?" "No." "Perhaps you can give us her address later." "No way, you can't get her address. She's abroad." "But how could Sorrell hurt her if she was abroad?" "She hadn't left the country when I killed Albert Sorrell." "Then—" Balck was interrupted by Grant as soon as he opened his mouth. "Mrs. Wallace," he said slowly, "isn't Ray Macbeth your daughter?" The woman's huge body jumped up from the chair at an astonishing speed, her tightly pursed lips suddenly relaxed, and an indistinct voice was forced out of her throat. "Sit down, please," said Grant graciously, pushing her back into her chair. "Sit down and tell us all about it without haste." "How did you know?" she asked, as she slowly regained her composure, "How did you know?" Grant skipped the question. "What makes you think Sorrell is trying to hurt your daughter?" "Because one day, I ran into him on the street. I hadn't seen him in years, so I told him about Rose's going to America. And he said, 'Me too'. I didn't think it sounded right. So comfortable, because I know he's been entangled with Rose in the past. He smiled at me weirdly and said: 'Anyway, not sure yet. Either we go together, or we don't go at all. ’ And I said, ‘What do you mean by that? Rose is definitely going to America. She has a contract with someone else and she can’t break it.’ He said, ‘She has a contract with me, and you think she will too. Do you keep your word?' I told him not to dream, the childish romances of boys and girls are quickly forgotten. He smiled at me again, so weird that it was a little creepy, and then he said: 'Wherever she goes, we They won't be parted,' he said, and left." "When did it happen?" Grant asked. "Three weeks ago—the Friday before I killed him." The day after Sorrell received the little package from Mrs. Everett. "Very good, continue." "I've been thinking about it since I got home. I can't get his face out of my eyes. Although he looks happy, there's an uncomfortably gloomy feeling about him, so I'm sure he's going to do something. Bad for Rose." "Did your daughter make a marriage contract with him?" "That's what he said. But it was just a boy-girl affair. They've known each other since they were kids. Of course Rose wouldn't want to marry him now." "Very good, continue." "I guess he only sees Rose when he's at the theatre. So I went to the theater and told Rose about it - we don't see her that often - but she didn't seem to mind. She just said: 'Hmmm , Albert always said let it go, anyway, I don't want to see him again.' She had too many other things to worry about, so she didn't think it was anything to worry about. But I took it seriously, and I told You. I got there that night, stood on the opposite corner of the street, and watched the crowd start to line up. But he hadn't arrived yet. I'd been there for the show on Saturday afternoon, and then again in the evening, and he didn't show up. Monday night, Tuesday afternoon, finally on Tuesday night I saw him coming alone. I walked over and lined up behind him in the recess of the door. It didn't take long before I saw the right pocket of his coat bulging , I came across it, stiff. I'm pretty sure that was the revolver he was going to kill Rose with.So, I waited for the line to start moving, the crowd was coming, and as I said, stab him with a knife. He said nothing.He didn't know what was going on at all, and as I said just now, I quickly took the opportunity to squeeze to the front. "Is Sorrell alone?" "yes." "Who was next to him at the time?" "It was a very good-looking dark-skinned young gentleman. Then another man came in to speak to Albert and pushed the young gentleman back in front of me." "Who was behind you at the time?" "The lady and gentleman who gave evidence at the cross-examination." "How can Rose be your daughter?" "You know, my husband was a sailor - that's why I had that little Spanish knife - he bought me a lot of stuff, he always does. But when Rose was little, he accidentally drowned , he married the sister of the Markham family, who was better off, and proposed to take her back and raise her as his own child, because they had no children. So, I let her go with them. They brought her up Becoming a dignified woman, I must admit. My Rose is a real lady now. I worked odd jobs for a few years, and since Rose made money and she gave me what they called an annuity, I could Live the life you have now." "How did your daughter meet Sorrell?" "The aunt who raised Albert lived next door to the Markhams. Albert and Rose went to the same school. Of course, they were very close at the time. Then the aunt died while Albert was serving in the war." "So they privately ordered their lives after the war, right?" "They're not what you'd call 'engaged', just a verbal commitment to each other. When Rose is on the Green Parasols tour, they still see each other a lot whenever she's in town or around." "But Sorrell takes his oath very seriously?" "Well, that's right. She lets him go backstage to see her sometimes, and I don't think she's pushing him away on purpose for her own benefit, do you understand? I think she's slowly alienating him. I know that Not sure. I rarely see Rose, not because she treats me badly, but because it's not fair to her. She doesn't want an old woman like me around, she needs to keep in touch with MPs and high society .” "Why didn't you call the police and tell the police that Sorrell threatened your daughter?" "I thought, and then I thought, first of all, I don't have the evidence. Just based on your attitude towards me today, I can say that my consideration at that time was not wrong at all.Second, even if the police put him in jail, they're unlikely to keep him in prison for the rest of his life.He can still do this when he goes out, and it's impossible for me to keep an eye on him.So I thought of the best solution, which is to kill him once and for all.I had a pocket knife, which I thought was a nice tool, since I don't know how to use a pistol or anything. ""Tell me, Mrs. Wallace, has your daughter ever seen that dagger?" "No." "Are you sure? Think again." "Yes, she did. I'm not telling you the truth. When she was older, before school, they used it in a Shakespeare play. I forget what the play was called." "Macbeth?" Grant suggested. "Yes, that's the play. She's a heroine. She's always admirable, you know. Even when she was little, she was a fairy in the school troupe. Her every day I go to every show. When they were doing Macbeth, I lent her this dagger that her father bought from Spain. Just for good luck, you know. After the show, she put the dagger It was returned to me. But good luck has been with her, and she has been smooth sailing ever since. Good luck made her be summoned by the queen when she was on tour, and recommended her to Baron, who gave her an audition. Her stage name That’s how it came about – Rey Macbeth. She’s been singing and dancing, and he said why not just call her, “In the spotlight!” So ​​Rose took that as her stage name, short for it Same as her original name—at least, the one her adoptive parents gave her." There was a long silence.Balk, who hadn't said a word for a long time, and Grant, who had nothing to say for a while, were silent.The blushing fat woman was completely relieved. "There is one thing you must keep in mind," she said. "Rose's real name must not be revealed. You are not allowed to mention a word of Rose. You can say that I killed him because he threatened my daughter who had gone abroad." .” "I am sorry, Mrs. Wallace, but I have no hope that Miss Macbeth's name will come out." "Absolutely not!" she said. "Absolutely not! If she gets involved, everything will be ruined for her. Think of all the scandal and gossip. You're smart enough to avoid it?" "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Mrs. Wallace. We'll do our best, but as you say, it's very unlikely." "Well," she said unexpectedly calmly, thinking of her previous excitement, "I can't predict how much this will affect Rose. Rose is currently the most popular actress in Britain, and her status has already stood firm. It should not be affected. You better detain me before she comes back from the United States." "It's too early to talk about detention," Balkhchan said with a smile. "Do you have the keys to your house?" "Yes, what are you going to do?" "If you give me the key, I'll send someone to find out what you said about the scabbard is true. Where will he find the scabbard?" "In the cupboard drawer, bottom left top drawer, in a box with perfume bottles." Balker summoned an agent, handed him the key, and gave him instructions. "You'll know what you missed when you got it," Mrs. Wallace said tartly to the detective. After the agent left, Grant pushed a piece of paper from the desk in front of her and pulled out his pen. "May I leave your name and address?" he said. She picked up the pen with her left hand and wrote down her name and address with some difficulty. "Do you remember what happened before I first questioned you?" "Remember." "You weren't left-handed back then." "I can do everything with two hands, how some people call it, I forget. But when I do one thing in particular, I use my left hand. Rose, is also left-handed. So is my father .” "Why didn't you come and tell us this sooner?" "I didn't expect that you would arrest anyone but me. When I saw in the newspaper that the police had cracked the case beautifully, I thought I should do something. Then I went to court today to see him. Grant didn't see her during the court hearing today! "Although he looks like a foreigner, he is not. Also, he looks very sick. So, after I got home, I decided to come forward and clarify everything." "I see," said Grant, raising his eyebrows at his superior, and the Chief Inspector summoned an agent in. "Take Mrs. Wallace to the next room to rest, and you stay with her. If you need anything, just Tell Simpson. Mrs. Wallace, please. "Her figure in tight black silk satin disappeared behind the closed door.