Chapter 15 Chapter Fourteen

To add to Aunt Lin's frustration, Robert asked for breakfast at 7:45 the next morning because he had to be at the office early.This was another nasty change in life for which Franchise was responsible.If it is said that breakfast is served in advance to catch an early train, to attend a meeting for a long trip, or to attend a client's funeral, it is still acceptable.But breakfast was moved forward just so that I could get to the office earlier, it was like a little boy obediently going to school on time, it was a strange behavior for the Blair family, and it didn't suit. With a smile on his face, Robert walked towards the commercial street bathed in the morning sun, and the shutters of the shops on both sides had not been drawn yet.It was strangely peaceful all around.He has always liked this early morning atmosphere, and only at this time can the town of Milford show its beauty; under the warm and soft morning sun, the pink, dark brown, and cream yellow in the streetscape are like watercolors with gentle hues .The spring is gradually fading, and the figure of summer is slowly emerging. Even walking on the sidewalk, you can feel the released warmth transpiring in the still slightly cool air; the modified lime trees on the treetops are also full of beauty.These were reminders that the nights would begin to get darker than the days, and he thought with joy that, to the lonely women of the Franchise, this was the good news of the season.Perhaps—with a bit of luck—by the time summer actually came, their proof work would be complete and their house would no longer be a besieged castle.

The door of the office was still tightly closed, but at this moment there was actually a tall and thin gray-haired man leaning on the door. His whole body seemed to be only skeleton, and he didn't have the round belly that men usually have. "Good morning," said Robert. "Are you looking for me?" "No," said the gray-haired man. "It was you looking for me." "I? " "At least that's what your telegram says. I assume you're Mr. Blair?" "But you can't be here now!" said Robert. "Not far." The man said briefly.

"Come in," said Robert, trying to keep up with Lunsden's standard of brevity in explanation. Entering the office, he opened the locked desk and asked, "Have you had breakfast?" "Yes, I had bacon and eggs at the White Hart." "I am very relieved that you can go out in person." "I just closed a case. And Kevin McDermot helped me a lot." Yes, Kevin, although he may seem quite menacing at times and his life is too complicated and busy, he still has the willingness and time to help those who deserve it.This is very different from Bishop Rabolo, who likes to lament those who don't deserve it.Kenn's statement to police, "I'll say it later."

Lunsden took the typed document, sat down in the visitor's chair—curling himself up might be a better description of his actions—and then forgot about Robert's existence, just like Kevin last time In his own apartment he read as thoroughly as he read the papers Robert gave him.Robert got to work too, but couldn't help but be jealous of their natural concentration. "Yes, Mr. Blair?" he said a moment later, and Robert handed him the rest of the story; the girl's confirmation of the house and its occupants; And decided not to pursue recourse; Leslie.Wooyin's indignation led to the findings of the Ike-Emma newspaper; his own investigations into the girl's relatives; his discovery that she liked to travel by bus, and that the Milford town bus route did run during that time. The double-decker bus; and he unearthed Mr. A.

"It will be your business to find Mr. A, Mr. Lunsden. The hall boy, Albert, knows what he looks like; here is the check-in list of the hotel at that time. Although if the man really It would be our great fortune to have lived in Midland, but we still have to try it. Tell Albert I sent you to him. We've known each other for a long time." "Very well. I'll go to Labolo now. Tomorrow I'll have a picture of the girl, but today maybe you can lend me your Ike-Emma tabloid." "Of course. How are you going to get her picture?" "Well, there are many ways."

Robert deduced that Scotland Yard had a photo when it received the girl's missing report, and imagined that he should have an old friend at the police headquarters who would not hesitate to give him a copy, so he didn't ask further. "It's possible that the conductors or drivers of those double-decker buses remembered seeing her," he said as Lunsden was about to leave. "Laborough's Local Auto Service is on Victoria Street." By nine-thirty, the office staff had arrived--Navier was the first to arrive; and Robert was amazed by this accident of routine.Usually Naville was the last to come to the office and the last to sit down and work.

He would walk slowly into the office, take off his coat like a bondage to his small office at the back, say good morning to the part of the office called the "office", and go to the "waiting room" at the back. Room," greeted Miss Teff, and ended up in Robert's office, where he stood thumbing through a stack of periodicals addressed to him on occultism.Mumbling comments on the deplorable state of affairs in England today.Robert is used to starting his day at this pace every morning.But today Neville was on time for work, and, if the sound of opening and closing drawers was a definite gesture, he obviously sat down at his desk and started working.Miss Teff came in with her blindingly white choker, her blotter, and Robert's day's work officially began.Miss Teff has worn white necklaces over black dresses for two decades, without which she would look naked.Every morning she puts them on freshly laundered; the previous day's clothes are washed that evening and left to dry before wearing them the next day.

Only on Sundays does she remove this attire.Robert once met Miss Teff one Sunday, and he didn't recognize her at all just because she was wearing a corsage. Robert worked until ten-thirty, then realized that he had eaten breakfast too early this morning, his stomach would not accept just the office tea, and went to the Rose and Crown for a cup of coffee and a sandwich.The best coffee in Milford should be at Ann Bowring, but it's always full of shopping ladies gossiping ("My dear, it's a pleasure to see you! We're at Ronnie's Missed you at the party! You heard..."), the atmosphere was intolerable to him.He meant to go across the street to the Rose and Crown, and do some shopping for the ladies of Franchise, where he would be there after lunch to break them the bad news about The Caretaker with aplomb.He couldn't call them because their numbers still didn't work.Although Labolo's company has sent people to bring ladders, glass powder and stronger glass to repair the windows.But of course they are private companies.As for the Telecommunications Bureau, because it is a government department, its procedure is to record the fact that the phone was cut off, indicating that it will "appropriately"

time processing.So Rob planned to spend some of the afternoon telling the Sharpes what he couldn't call them. It was too early for the morning snack break, and the chintz-covered oak furniture in the Rose and Crown was empty except for a table with wattle legs where Ben Cali was reading "The Ike-Emma Newspaper.Callie was never the type of guy Rob would hang out with - he guessed Callie thought the same - but they had the same occupation (which is usually the basis of friendships) and so in this small town of Milford They became inexplicably close.This time Robert sat down at Cali's table as a matter of course; sitting down he reflected that he hadn't expressed his gratitude to Cali for reminding him of his impressions of country people.

Calley put down the paper and looked at Robert with his dark eyes, lively and exotic for a small Midland town. "Looks like it's over," he said. "Only one letter from a reader today; just keep the fire going!" "The Ike-Emma, ​​yes. But the Watcher doesn't start its attack until Friday." "The Watcher! What does it do with the Ike-Emma news?" "It's not the first time," said Robert. "No, I don't think so," Carley said, musing. "If you think about it seriously, it's actually just two sides of the same coin. Well, don't worry, the circulation of "The Watcher" is only about 2,000 copies."

"Maybe. But as a practical matter, every one of those two thousand subscribers probably has a distant relative who works in the government." "So what? Has anyone ever heard of a public official reaching over the line for something that's not their job?" "No, but they might send messages to each other. And then one day that message will fall—together—" "On fertile ground," Carley added, deliberately adding material to the metaphor. "Okay. Someday there's going to be a nosy person, or sentimental person, or egotistical person who has nothing else to do and decides to put pressure on this thing. And then there's a chain reaction, until the unexpected end." Callie was silent for a moment. "What a pity," he said. "Just when the Ike-Emma was about to drop the story. In two days they'd never have any interest in it again. In fact, in terms of the timetable they usually deal with things, it's It’s been more than two days. I’ve never seen them take three days to follow a story. Letters must be more than they expected before they’ll give another section.” "Yes." Rob agreed dejectedly. "Of course, it's like a gift to them too. It's unusual for a girl to be captured and beaten; the market for it is hard to estimate. A paper like Ike-Emma, ​​which offers three or four dishes a day, is It’s not easy to tickle the picky taste buds of customers. And I can imagine that the report of the Franchise incident will probably increase the sales in Rabolo by more than a few thousand copies.” "their circulation will go down, like the tide. but i have to deal with what's left on the sand when the tide goes outc" "Let me tell you, it was a particularly fishy thing," Carley noted. "You know that fat blond guy with the lavender paint on his face and the pull-up bra that runs the sportswear store by Ann Bowring? She's one of those things left on the beach you're dealing with." "why? " "She seems to have lived in the same flat as the Sharps in London and she has a funny story about Marion Sharp how she beat a dog half to death in a fit of rage. Her customers love that story .Ann Bowling's, too. She's a regular there for her morning coffee." He glanced wryly at the flash of anger across Robert's face. "I don't need to remind you that she has a dog of her type. It's a dog that's never been corrected, a total spoiled dog that's dying fast from obesity because of his fat, blond owner Whenever you want to eat something like honey, you can throw some to it regardless of whether it is good or bad." Rob had an urge to hug Ben Cali, including his striped suit. "Well, the whole thing is going to come and go like a gust of wind," Carley said, philosophically. Robert looked surprised. "I don't think there's any benefit in letting the wind come and go that way," he said. "At least that doesn't help my clients at all." "What can you do?" "Of course it is to fight back." "Fight back what? You don't get a libel judgment if that's your method." "No, I didn't think of slander. I propose to uncover what the girl did all those weeks." Carley looked interested. "That's it?" he said. "It won't be easy and it may cost them all their savings, but there's no other way." "They can get out of here. Sell the house and live somewhere else. No one outside Milford will remember it a year later. ""They would never make that choice; and even if they had the will, I would not advise them to do so.You can't just leave a record like this unexplained, and then go on with your life as if it didn't happen. Also, it was unbearable for a girl like that to be fine after telling such a lie. This is a matter of principle. ""You may have paid too high a price for your so-called principles.However, I wish you good luck anyway.Have you thought about hiring a private eye? Because if you do, I know a very good..." Rob said he had found it, and he was working on it. On Kali's expressive face, he congratulated the always conservative Buhapo Associates for making a U-turn. "Scotland Yard better watch out for their reputation," he said.His eyes turned to the street outside the lead window frame, and the amused expression on his face faded to staring at one place with intense concentration.He was stunned for a while, and then said softly, "Well, what a guts!" It was a tone of respect, not anger, that made Robert turn his head to see what inspired his admiration. Across the street loomed the Sharp family's old car, its weird front wheels in plain view.In the back seat, sitting on the throne as usual, with a slight dissatisfaction with the car, was Mrs. Sharp.The car was parked just outside the grocery store, where Marion was probably shopping.It should have just happened, or Bunkali would have noticed, but there were already two errand boys parked there watching them, leaning on their bicycles greedily as if they were watching a free show.And in the short time that Robert saw this, people who shopped in the grocery stores next door were peeping at them through the windows or simply by the doors, and word of it spread like wildfire. "What an unbelievable act of folly!" said Robert angrily. "It's not ridiculous at all," Cali said, his eyes still fixed on the sight. "I wish they were my clients." He reached into his pocket for the change to pay for his coffee, and Robert was already galloping away in a rout.When he got to the car, Marianne had just come out of the shop onto the sidewalk and stood on the other side of the car. "Mrs. Sharp," he said sternly, "this is a very stupid act. You are deepening..." "Oh, good morning, Mr. Blair," she said politely, in a normal tone. "Have you used your morning coffee? Or would you like to accompany us to Ann Bowring for a drink?" "Miss Sharp!" he said, turning to Marianne, who was putting shopping bags on a chair. "You've got to know it's not a smart move." "I honestly don't know if it's smart," she said, "but it's something we have to do. Maybe we're too childish, but we can't forget what happened at Ann Bowring Coffee The snubs received by the museum - the kind of condemnation without trial." "We suffer from mental indigestion, Mr. Blair. The only solution is to fight fire with fire, and that means Miss Trulloff's excellent cup of coffee." "But that's totally unnecessary! So—" "We figured there would be plenty of vacant tables in Ann Bowring at half past ten in the morning," said old Mrs. Sharp sharply. "Don't worry, Mr. Blair," said Marion. "It's just a gesture. Once we finish drinking our symbolic coffee in Ann Bowling, we will never step in that store again." She said in a joking tone with quite a personality. "But this will only provide Milford Town with free..." Old Mrs. Sharp cut him off before he could get all he had to say. "The town of Milford has to get used to our presence," she said grimly, "because we've decided that living entirely within those four walls is not something we'd like to live with." "but……" "They quickly get used to seeing monsters and then take us for granted. If you only see a giraffe once a year, it's always a spectacle; once you see it every day, it becomes a daily occurrence. part. We plan to be a fixture in Milford Town c ""Your plans to become one of Milford Town's landscapes are fine, but please do one thing for me now. " Already the curtains of some of the second-floor windows were drawn, and more faces appeared. "Give up plans for Ann Bowring, or at least for today, and join me for coffee at the Rose and Crown." "Mr Blair, it would have been nice to have coffee with you at the Rose and Crown, but it did nothing for my mental torment, which, in the popular phrase, 'would kill me'." "Miss Sharp, I beg you. You said you knew it might be childish, and - well, even if it's a personal request of me acting as your agent, I beg you not to proceed with the plan to get to Ann Bowling .” "That's blackmail!" remarked old Mrs. Sharp; "Looks like we'll have coffee at the Rose and Crown," she sighed. "Just when I'm all set to pose!" "Humph, how bold!" A voice came from above.The same words as Kali, but without the respect in Kali's tone; on the contrary, full of indignation. "You can't park your car here," said Robert. "Besides the traffic regulations, it is one of the out-and-out evidence." "Well, we didn't intend that," Marion said. "We're going to take it to the garage and have Stan fix it with the tools over there. He's taking our car very lightly." "Is that so? I'll go with you, then; and you'd better get into your car before we're surrounded by curious crowds." "Poor Mr. Blair," said Marion, starting the engine. "You must hate this phenomenon, not to be part of the peaceful landscape anymore, especially after so many years of integration." She said it without malice—really, there was genuine sympathy in her tone—and the words found a tender place in his mind to store up. Then they came to Sim's Lane, rounded five cabs and a pony, and came to the dimly lit garage. Bill came out to meet them, drying his hands on an oily towel. "Morning, Mrs. Sharp. Good to see you coming to town. Morning, Miss Sharp. You did a great job bandaging Stanley's forehead.The wound fit as if it had been stitched.You must have been a nurse. ""I don't.I'm not interested in people's fashion.But it is possible for me to be a surgeon.You can't be too fashion-forward on the operating table. " Stanley came out from behind and did not greet them socially. The two women had been classified as friends, and he took the car directly. "What time do you want to pick up this wreck?" he asked. "An hour?" Marianne asked. "One year is not enough, but I will try to do what I can do in an hour." He looked at Robert. "Any news about Jaynes?" "I have good news about Bali Boogie (racehorse name)." "Nonsense," said old Mrs. Sharp. "Things that have a rum pedigree don't make it to the competition. They're just out there for the motions." All three men stared at her, dumbfounded with surprise. "Are you interested in horse racing?" said Rob incredulously. "No, it's Tsushima itself. I have a brother who used to breed thoroughbreds." Seeing their surprised faces, she laughed, clucking like a hen. "Do you think I take my Bible to rest at noon every day, Mr. Blair? Or a book of witchcraft? No no, I read the daily horse racing news c And Stanley is to be advised not to waste money on Barry Boogie , especially with such a weird name.” "And which one?" asked Stanley, with his usual frugality. "It's said that a horse's intuition keeps them from betting on humans. But if you're going to do something as stupid as gambling, you'd better bet your money on Kominsky." "Kominsky!" said Stanley. "But it's an old horse!" "Of course you can waste your money as you like," she said coldly. "Can we go, Mr. Blair?" "Okay," Stanley said. "Kominsky is Kominsky, if you win, you have one-tenth of the share." They walked back to the Rose and Crown Hotel; and as they emerged from the comparative privacy of Sheen Lane into the empty street, Robert relived the sense of exposure that the wartime air raids had given him; The feeling that all the attention and malice were focused on his frail body.So even now, walking down the sun-drenched streets in early summer, he still felt completely naked and dangerous.He was ashamed to find Marianne walking beside him so relaxed and indifferent, so he secretly hoped that his subconscious self-consciousness would not be too obvious.He tried to stride at a natural pace as best he could, but remembering how easily she could always read his mind, he thought dejectedly that he was probably behaving badly. Aside from the fact that a lone waiter was picking up the money Ben Kali had left on the table, the whole shop seemed abandoned.When they sat down at a black oak table, Marion said, "You know our windows are fixed, don't you?" "Yes, Newsman stopped by on the way home last night and told me. very efficient. "Did you bribe them?" asked old Mrs. Sharp. "No. I only mentioned that it was the work of a bunch of rogues, and if that was the result of a storm, you would undoubtedly still be without windows. A storm is bad luck, and therefore an event to be endured. But rogues It's the kind of thing where you have to fight back. So you have new windows. I hope the whole job is trouble free. "He didn't notice a difference in his tone of voice, but Marion studied his face and said: 'Any new developments?' "I'm afraid there is. I was going to tell you this afternoon. After the Ike-Emma stopped following the news--there was only one letter in today's paper--apparently the Ike-Emma The newspapers are no longer interested in Betty Kane, but The Watchman is going to take her place." "Excellence!" said Marion. "Well, that's what Ben Kali said; but the two agree." "Have you been to the office of the Watcher, Mr. Blair?" asked Mrs. Sharp. "No; Neville found out. They're going to publish a letter from his future father-in-law, Bishop Rabolo." "Ha!" said Mrs. Sharp. "Toby Byrne." "You know him?" Robert asked, feeling the quality in her voice enough to scrape the paint off a wooden piece of furniture if you spit it out. "He went to the same school as my nephew—the horse doctor." Son. Toby Byrne, really, he hasn't changed at all." "I suppose you don't like him." "I don't really know him. He came home with my nephew for the holidays once, but he hasn't been invited since." "Oh? " "He was horrified the first time he found the lads who worked in the stables up at the crack of dawn. It was slave labor, he said; Combined, this would result in the fact that no horse left the stable before nine o'clock in the morning. The lads mocked him for years after he left; but he was never invited back." "No, he hasn't changed," agreed Robert. "Obviously since then he's been using the same tricks on everything he can touch, from the Kaf people in South Africa to orphanages. The less you know about him, the more you feel. Naville also expressed his inability to do anything about the letter to be published, because the bishop had already written the letter, and what the bishop had written was not allowed to be considered a waste of paper.But I couldn't stand there and not try to do something about it; so I called him after dinner and pointed out, as tactfully as I could, that he'd involved himself in a dubious case that would hurt two very likely framed innocents at the same time. people.But in the end it turned out that I should really save the tiredness of talking. He said The Watcher prided itself on standing up for free expression of opinion, insinuating that I was obstructing that freedom of speech.I was compelled to ask him directly if he agreed to the lynching because what he was doing was causing that.That was after I realized that I couldn't communicate with him, so I gave up my tact and went straight to Huanglong. "He took the coffee that Mrs. Sharpe poured for him." He was nothing but a step backward compared to the bishop before him who made the real misbehavers of the five counties horribly intractable. . "How did Toby Byrne get this seat?" Mrs. Sharp wondered. "I guess his father-in-law's family didn't let go of his career." "Oh, yes, his wife. I forgot. Candy, Mr. Blair?" "By the way, here are two spare keys for the iron gate of Franchise Drive. I wish I could keep a pair.The other might be easier to give to the police so they can patrol the house at all times.Also, I have another piece of news that you now have a private investigator. "Then he gave them a detailed introduction to Alec Lunsden, who showed up at the office at eight-thirty in the morning. "Hasn't anyone written to Scotland Yard saying they know the picture in the Ike-Emma?" asked Marion. "I have high hopes for this." "So far no, but it's still a possibility." "It's been five days since the Ike-Emma story was published. If anyone really knew the person in the photo, they would have written to the police." "You forget to account for the possibility that the newspaper could be used for something else. It always starts that way. Like someone opening up chips wrapped in that newspaper one day and accidentally saying, 'Oh my God, I'm here. Where have you seen this face? ’ Or someone lined a hotel drawer with that newspaper, blah blah blah.Don't give up hope, Miss Sharp.With the help of God and Alec Lunsden, we will win in the end. " She looked at him calmly. "You really believe that, don't you?" she said, as if discovering a new phenomenon. "Really," he said. "Do you believe that good will eventually triumph over evil?" "yes." "why? " "I can't explain it. Maybe I can't imagine other possibilities. For me, there is nothing in this world that is more worth looking forward to and more worthy of admiration." "If God hadn't made Toby Byrne bishop, I'd have a lot more faith in him," Mrs Sharp said. "By the way, when will Toby Byrne's letter be published?" "Friday morning." "I can hardly wait," said old Mrs. Sharp.