Chapter 9 chapter eight

Robert decided to use this one-night stay away to visit as many people as possible who could help the case. First, he wants to meet his old friends.In this situation, no one is more worthy of his visit than his old school friend Kevin McDermot.No one knows more about crime than Kevin McDermott; and as a well-known defense attorney.His understanding of human nature is not only broad, but also unique and incisive due to the collection of many years of experience from multiple perspectives. Whether McDermot died young at this moment of hypertensive disease, or was still healthy enough to be crowned Lord Chancellor when he was seventy, was a fair chance.Of course, Robert hopes that the chance is the latter, and he actually admires Kevin quite a lot.

They knew each other in school because they both wanted to study law, and they ended up becoming friends because of their complementary personalities.To the Irishman, Robert was unflappable, funny and provocative, and—when he was tired—very quiet and peaceful.To Rob, Kevin had a Celtic allure that was flamboyant and exotic.Robert's expectation for the prospect is nothing more than returning to practice in the small country town where he grew up, and living a life that is unchanging as a matter of course; Kevin's ambition is to make some earth-shattering reforms within the scope of the law.

So far, Kevin has shown his talents to the best of his ability, but it is not a matter of one day to promote the reform and show the results; some waves.Cases with Kevin McDermott will be reported 50 percent more than usual—an effect that is far beyond what money can predict. He was married—at first for convenience, but happily—with a comfortable house near Wey Bridge; and had three strong sons, lean, dark, and lively, just like their father.For commuting into town for work, there is a small apartment in the courtyard area of ​​St. Paul's Church.From that apartment, to paraphrase his words, "you can look down on Queen Anne." Whenever Robert was in town--not often--they always ate together, either in the little apartment or at Calvin. Nearby restaurants where good red wine can be found.In his spare time, Kevin likes to taste red wine and watch movies produced by the lively Warner Films Company.

Kevin's going to be at a legal dinner tonight, that's what his secretary told him when Rob called him from Milford; however, he'd be happy to have such a valid reason to avoid those presentations, so Ask Robert to meet him directly at his apartment in the courtyard area of ​​St. Paul's Church after dinner. That's a good sign, if Kevin is coming home from a dinner party, he must be relaxed and ready to enjoy the comforts of the night - not as he usually does when he comes home straight from the courthouse, still full of cases, no Ken rests. In the meantime he was calling Inspector Grant at Scotland Yard to see if he could find time to meet tomorrow morning.He had to find out Scotland Yard's attitude to the incident; perhaps they were both suffering to the same degree, just not on the same side.

There was an old Edwardian building in Gilming Street, Fort Squad, where he had always lodged and lodged since he was allowed to come to London alone in his boyhood.At this point, they received him as a nephew and gave him "the room he lived in last time": a small dimly lit but comfortable room with a shoulder-high bed and plush sofa; A tea tray with an oversized brown plain teapot with a Georgian silver cream decanter, sugar cubes weighing about a pound in a cheap glass saucer, a cup with a small castle painted on it, a red and gold two-tone plate , and a speckled brown handle knife.The tea and the tea tray also refreshed Robert and relieved the fatigue of the journey.With a certain self-confidence, he stepped into the streets of the city in good spirits to conduct his expedition.

In order to inquire about the facts about Betty-Kane, subconsciously, he came to an open space where there was a building; her parents were hit by an aerial bomb here, and the building was shattered together with the building.It was a cleared but still bare lot, waiting for further construction.There is nothing on it to show the traces of the past.Surrounded by houses that survived the attack, they stand proudly alone, like immature children who don’t understand the meaning of disasters, but only know and care about how the disasters passed by and feel lucky. On the other side of Broad Street is a row of small shops that have stood there for more than half a century.Robert crossed the street to buy cigarettes from a tobacco grocer in the row of shops.A place that also sells tobacco, miscellaneous goods, newspapers and magazines is a good place to inquire about gossip.

"Were you there when that happened?" asked Robert, tilting his head in the direction of the door. "When what happened?" asked the little man with the rosy face, who seemed to have gotten used to the field becoming a clearing and had forgotten the landscape. "Oh, that accidental disaster? No, I'm away on business. I was the warden." Robert explained that he was asking if he already had the store at the time. Well, yes, yes, the storefront existed then; and it existed long before the event.He grew up in the area and took over the business from his father.

"So, you know the people around here. Do you remember the couple who were the caretakers of that building?" "The Keans? Of course I remember, why not. They were in and out of the store all day. He came in for the morning paper, and a little later she came in for the cigarettes; then he came in for the evening paper, and she came in a third time for the cigarettes; Then when my son came home from school to help out with the shop, I went with him to a nearby pub for a drink. Do you know them too, sir?" "No. But I heard someone mention them the other day. How did that whole place get destroyed?" the little pink-cheeked man snorted mockingly.

"Cut corners. That's it, it's a building that's been cut. The bombs fell in the area—that's how the Kenns died, they hid in the basement and thought they were safe—and the whole building flew in all directions like a stack of cards.Quite shocking and frightening! "He smoothed the evening papers aside." She was lucky that she was home with her husband one night all week, and the bomb fell on that night. "He seemed to take pleasure in such ridicule. "And where is she usually?" asked Robert. "Does she work nights somewhere?" "Work!" said the little man very contemptuously. "Her!" Then, regaining his composure, "Hmm! Sorry, really. I almost forgot they might be your friends—"

Robert hastened to assure him that his inquiries about the Keans were purely for research purposes.Someone mentioned that they were caretakers of the building, that's all.If Mrs. Kean wasn't out at night doing a night job, what was she doing?" If you look for it. Mr. Kean wanted her to take refuge in the country with their little ones.But would she? Well, of course not! She had said that three days in the country would kill her.She hadn't even seen their little girl who was sent to the country.It was an arrangement by the government authorities, and many children were sent to a safe place in this way.As far as I'm concerned, she'd love for the kids to be sent away so she could go out dancing every night without a care. "Who is she going to dance with?"

"Officer," said the little man simply. "Much more fun than watching the grass grow. Mind you, I'm not saying there's any harm in that," he corrected hastily. "She's dead, and I don't want to say that she can't justify herself now. But she's not a good mother or a good wife, but that's the surest truth; no one will protest that. " "Is she pretty?" asked Robert, thinking of the pity he had wasted on Betty's mother. "In a way, yes. She is the sullen type. You can't imagine how she looks when she is lively. She is very hot and exciting." "Where is her husband?" "He, he's not bad, his name is Bert Kane. Deserves better luck than that woman. Good kind of him. Likes that little girl very much. Spoiled her, of course. What she wants he Just try to get it; but she's a good girl, honestly, quite demure. Well, yes, Bert deserves better things in life than a wife who just enjoys herself and a vain Fake kid. A good guy, he—” He stared at the clearing across the road as if his mind had gone back in time. "It took them almost a week to find him," he said. Robert paid for his cigarettes, left the shop, and walked out into the street feeling a mixture of sadness and relief.Sadness for Bert Kane, a good man who should have had a better time; relief because Betty Kane's mother wasn't who he thought he was.All the way to London he had been sorry for the dead woman: a woman who would rather suffer for her daughter's good; he could hardly bear to imagine that the suffering woman's beloved and protective daughter was like Betty Kane child.And now he was completely relieved.Betty Kane's mother was exactly the kind of woman that if he were God he would send Betty Kane a mother; and she was exactly what her mother's daughter should be. "A false child." How would Mrs. Wuyin react this time? "She cried because she didn't like the food, but I don't remember her ever crying for her mother." Her doting father cried. Back at the hotel, he took out the Ike-Emma newspaper from his handy suitcase, and perused the stories from the second edition over dinner alone in the dining room of Fort's rough hotel.It begins with a poster-like narration: One April evening, a girl) LX returns to her home in underwear, shoes, and empty-handed.She left the house, a bright, cheerful schoolgirl—one of the best of the genre in terms of sensationalism throughout. It does exactly what it's intended to do: feed a broad readership of varying levels of need with one story.For those who are looking for eroticism, it provides the girl's thin clothes; for those who cherish flowers and moonlight, it provides her youth and sweetness; The details of being beaten; for the class-discriminatory treatment, it provides towering houses in the deep courtyard of the huge wall; cover. Yes, this is a pretty clever article. Of course, the story itself was a godsend for the newspaper—which is why they immediately sent someone home with Leslie Uyin for further interviews.But Robert feels that under the spirit of "Ike-Emma", even broken fragments can be written into a wonderful and complete story. It must have been a ruthlessly arbitrary business, reporting stories that resonated with human frailty in an exclusive format.He continued to flip through the newspaper, trying to gather the rules of how they made up the noise. He noticed that even under headings like "Giving a Million," the reference was to the tricks of an unscrupulous old man trying to avoid income taxes, not the efforts of an up-and-coming man trying to amass a fortune on his own. donate. It all made him sick.He put the newspaper in his briefcase and carried it towards the courtyard of St. Paul's Church.There he saw the woman "at the table outside the office door," wearing a hat, Mr. McDermot's secretary.She was told to let him wait in the apartment; she let him in and told him there was whiskey on the coffee table by the fireplace and another bottle in the cupboard; Mr. Mo knew, otherwise he would drink too much and forget to go to bed, and she would have to worry about how to wake him up the next morning. "It's not the whiskey," said Blair, smiling at her, "it's the Irish blood in him. The Irish hate getting out of bed. " This made her pause at the door, apparently never having heard such a statement. "I wouldn't doubt it," she said. "And so is my dad, who is Irish. Not because of whiskey, but because of original sin. At least, I think so," It's a lovely little apartment, warm and friendly, with a lovely sense of tranquility after rush hour in the city's hectic traffic.He poured himself a glass of wine and went to the window to look down at the Queen Anne statue; his gaze stayed on the cathedral as usual, wondering once again how the whole building seemed to be floating on the plinth, yet so balanced Harmony, can be gently picked up hanging in the palm of the hand, Bu.Then he sat down, his tense nerves finally relieved at this moment, and realized that he had only felt relieved since he visited the crazy old woman who repeatedly deleted her will this morning. He was half asleep when he heard the sound of Kevin unlocking the lock, and before he could move, the owner appeared in the room. McDermot walked over to the decanter on the coffee table, squeezing the back of his neck as he passed behind him. "A beginning, old friend," he said, "a beginning." "Start what?" asked Rob. "Your beautiful neck is beginning to thicken and deform." Robert lazily caressed the back of his neck which was scratched a bit. "You reminded me, I'm starting to feel the cold wind hitting my neck now," he said. "God, Rob! Is nothing bothering you?" Kevin said, his eyes pale under dark black brows. "Even when you're faced with the dire situation of losing your wonderful physique, can you not be bothered?" "Actually, there's something bothering me right now. It's just not my appearance." "Well, what happened to Buhap's Law Firm? It wouldn't be bankruptcy; then, I guess, for a woman." "For women, but not in the way you think." "Want to get married? You should, Robert." "You've said that before." "You'd like to have a son who would take over the Buhapper office, wouldn't you?" The continued stability of Buhapper's office always drew Kevin's teasing, Robert thought. "The firm does not rule out female headed households. And, now, at least Neville is getting married." "The only thing Neville's future wife could produce was the gramophone. I heard that she appeared in some formal occasions a few days ago.If she had to work hard to earn money to pay for her travels, she wouldn't be so keen on showing up. "He sat down with a drink in his hand." I don't have to ask if you're on business again this time.Sometimes you really should drop everything and just visit the city.I'm guessing you have an appointment with so-and-so's lawyer at about ten o'clock tomorrow morning. "No," said Robert. "With Scotland Yard." " There was a pause as Kevin poured the wine into his mouth. "Rob, you slipped too far, when did Scotland Yard move into your ivory tower?" "Yeah," said Robert quietly, ignoring the shock of the question. "It's right in front of me, and I'm not quite sure what to do. I'd like to hear from someone with accumulated wisdom about these kinds of situations. I don't know why I'm bothering you, you must be sick of it. But you actually helped me solve algebra problems in the past." "And you're always good at investing and stocks, if I remember correctly. I'm a sucker for stocks. I owe you one more time for saving me from a failed investment.In fact, come to think of it, you saved me from two failed investments. ’ he added. "Twice?" "Tamanla and the Tin Mine of Topika." "I remember reminding you at the Topika Tin Mine, but I didn't do anything to separate you from Tamanla." "Well, didn't you? Dear Rob, if you saw the look on your face when I introduced her to you. Oh no, it wasn't your look, it was the opposite, it was your reflexive look. The instantly adjusted 'friendly' expression, that damned British gentleman's careful, well-bred mask - it says it all. I foresee my whole life spent in that well-bred look that people show when they introduce Tamanra. It reminds me.I never stopped thanking you.Now, get out what's in your briefcase. " Nothing escapes Kevin's observant eyes, Robert thought, producing a copy of Betty Kane's statement to the police. "This is a very brief transcript. I hope you'll read it and let me know what you think." He examined Kevin's expression without expressing his opinion first. McDermot took it, scanned the first paragraph quickly and said, "I guess it's a woman protected by Ike-Emma." "I had no idea you read the Ike-Emma," said Robert, surprised. "God loves you. I actually live on Ike-Emma. Without crime, there would be no source of fame and fortune; without source of support, there would be no Kevin McDermot, or only a part of today Him." With that, he fell into complete silence for four minutes.He was so absorbed that it seemed to Robert that he was almost alone in the room, that his Master had left. "Hmmm!" he said, looking up at last. "how?" "I guess your clients are the two women in this case, not the girl?" "certainly." "Now tell me what you think." Kevin said, pretending to be listening. Robert told him the whole story.His initial hesitation; his gradual inclination to sympathize with the two women rather than Betty Kane; Scotland Yard's decision to stand still without good evidence; Emma's office. "So tonight," McDermot said, "Scotland Yard is going all out to find evidence to back up the girl's story." "I suppose so," said Robert, somewhat despondently. "But what I want to know is this: Do you believe the girl's story?" "I've never believed anyone's word for it," Kevin pointed out slightly disapprovingly. "What you need to know is: Do I think the girl's statement has any credibility? Of course I'm sure of that. " "real? " "Of course, why not?" "But it's so unreasonable," said Robert, more eagerly than he expected. "It's not at all unreasonable. Women who live alone are prone to crazy things—especially when they're poor ladies. It happened just the other day that an elderly woman Her sister was found chained to a bed in a room the size of a closet and fed only bread crumbs, potato peelings and other bits and pieces of food she would not eat herself. When it came to light, she said that It's because they don't have much money, and that's the only way she can make ends meet. In fact, she has a lot of money in the bank, and it's just because of insecurities that make her do crazy weird things. That's Isn't it more unreasonable and unbelievable than the little girl's story - by your unreasonable standards?" "Is that so? I think that's kind of a case of insanity." "It's just because you know it actually happened. I mean, someone actually witnessed it. Instead, suppose it was just a rumour, and the crazy sister got wind of the rumour, and released her before all the investigations could be done; Investigators only saw two old women living together, apparently leading a normal life, except one of them seemed obviously weaker, what do you think? Would you believe the rumors about people being chained ? Or, more likely, you think it's just some unthinkable absurdity?" Robert fell into a mood of disappointment and depression. "It's a story of two lonely women with little financial means bearing a big house in the country. One of them is too old to do housework, the other hates housework. What is a slightly crazy woman in this situation What will happen? Detaining a girl and forcing her to work as a domestic servant is of course logical." Damn Kevin! And his eloquent and methodical mind.Rob thought he wanted Kevin's opinion, but in fact he wanted Kevin to support his own conclusions. "The girl they detained happened to be an innocent school girl far away from home. It was their bad luck to meet such an irreproachable girl who has not been caught telling lies so far, people would like to believe her words. If I were a police officer, I would go this way.To me, it's them who are crazy. " He cast an amused glance at Robert, who was sinking himself deep in the chair, looking angrily at the legs stretched over the fireplace.He was silent for a minute or two, contemplating his friend's frustration wryly. "Of course," he said again, "they'll remember a similar case, a pitiful story of a girl, which everyone can't help believing completely." "Similar case!" said Robert, sitting up straight with his legs bent. "when? " "About the eighteenth century. I forget the exact date." "Yeah," said Robert, again disappointed. "I don't know what that 'um' means," McDermot said gently. "The nature of subterfuge has not changed in two centuries." "Excuse?" "If that similar case is any guide, the girl's story is a pretext." "Then you believe—I mean, you think that girl's story is all nonsense?" "It's completely fabricated from beginning to end." "Kevin, you're infuriating. You just said you thought the story had credibility." "I say that, but I also feel that the story is a string of lies. I don't take sides in particular. I can defend either side even in the shortest time. On the whole, I would be more willing to defend that side. defended a little girl from Ellsbury. She would have had quite a good effect on the witness stand, and from what you've told me about the Sharpe mother and daughter, none of them provided the visual convenience in court to make the plea go. conduct." He stood up and poured himself another whiskey, reaching out his other hand for Robert's glass.Robert, however, was out of the mood for convivial drinking.He shook his head, not even looking away from the fire.He was very tired and began to lose patience with Kevin.He came to the wrong place. He has been a criminal defense lawyer for too long, just like Kevin. He only has arguments and opinions when he encounters problems, and he has no enthusiasm for exploring the truth.He'll continue to sit and wait for Kevin to drink half of that second glass of wine, and then he'll say goodbye.Maybe it would be better now to go to bed and forget that he was responsible for other people's problems.At least, forget that he is responsible for solving those problems. "I wonder what that girl did that month," Kevin said conversationally, taking a swig of whiskey. Rob opened his mouth to say, "Then you really believe that girl is a liar!" But he stopped himself just in time.He refuses to continue playing Kevin's game. "If you drink so much whiskey in addition to wine, the only thing you can do for the next month is get medical treatment, old man," he said.What surprised him was that Kevin sat down on the chair and fell down with a smile, like a little boy. "Well, Rob, I do love you," he said cheerfully. "You are the very essence of England. You have all the qualities we admire and envy. You sit there, looking so gentle and courteous, and ready to be bullied, that people think you're just a sick old cat who can play and fool you as much as you like; and Just at the moment when people were complacent, there was a sudden bang, and a professional claw that took off the protective glove flashed to their noses like lightning!" He took the cup from Robert's hand without saying please don't Waiting for nonsense, he got up and poured wine for Robert.This time Robert let him go. In fact, he felt more balanced.