Chapter 18 Chapter Eighteen

On Thursday morning, Collins, who had gone to investigate Chance's clothing, brought the news.Chance's squire, Bywood, he reported, was a "difficult man to please".He neither drank nor smoked, leaving Collins with little focus on building a relationship with him.But everyone has a door, and Bywood's door turned out to be snuff.It was a secret vice, and Lord Edward would have been fired on the spot if he had discovered it.Collins finally gained access to the lord's wardrobe after introducing him to a "very special snuff".As soon as Chance arrived in England—or rather London—he cleaned up his laundry.Among the clothes he cleared were two overcoats, one dark and one camel hair.Bywood gave the camel-hair coat to his brother-in-law, a cabaret actor; the other was sold to a second-hand cloth dealer in London.Collins reported the name and address of the used clothes dealer.

Grant sent a policeman to the second-hand clothes dealer, and the police inspected the goods one by one. The second-hand clothes dealer said, "That coat originally belonged to Lord Edward Chance. He is the son of the Duke of Budd. Very good." Waiting for the goods." It is indeed the first-class goods.And there are a lot of buttons on it, and there is no trace of new ones. Grant sighed after hearing the news, not knowing whether he was happy or sad.Still, he wondered where Chance spent that night. As for what the media wants to know is where Tistor is.Every newspaper in England wanted to know.The Criminal Investigations Department faces its biggest dilemma in years. The Horn openly called them executioners, and Grant, trying to make sense of the chaos, agonized over the anger of his colleagues, the sympathy of his friends, the apprehension of the minister, and his own mounting anxiety.

It's just past the middle of the morning, Jimmy.Hopkins hung up on the phone, defending his "neutral" remarks in The Horn.He did that "just according to the rules", and he knew that his good friends in the police station would understand.Grant was out, and it was Williams who answered the phone.Williams was in no mood for his flattery.He poured out his overly tense emotions through words, making Hopkins fear that he had formed an insoluble bond with the police. "When it comes to killing people," Williams concluded, "you know very well that the media has been bullying people this week, not since the establishment of the police station. And you're killing innocent people people!"

"Oh, have a conscience, Sergeant! You know, we have to sell. If we don't get the news hot and fresh, we won't be able to stay in this business, and we'll have to talk to people somewhere else." Get your job. We have a job to do in this business, like..." The voice of Williams hanging up the phone was very clean.His actions and opinions are compressed into this little monosyllable.Jimmy felt very uncomfortable.He had a great time writing that article.In fact, when the harsh words came pouring out, he was filled with righteous indignation.When Jimmy was writing, the tip of his tongue would habitually tilt to the side against the inside of his cheek, and his emotions would flood with him.His tongue naturally snapped back into place when he was done writing; the resulting article had a solid mass appeal, was recognized as "speaking from the heart," and his salary skyrocketed as a result.

He felt a little hurt, though, because none of his paper enemies could see that it was all a joke. He tossed his hat over his right eyebrow in a gesture of disdain, and went out to lunch. And less than five minutes away, Grant was sitting in a dark corner with a large cup of black coffee in front of him and his head resting on his hands.He was talking to himself in concise words. Christine.Clay lived in secrecy.But the killer knew where she lived.This will rule out a lot of people. Chance knew. Jason.Hamer knew. Herb.Gotaobai almost certainly knew. The murderer was wearing a coat so dark that it had to be fitted with black buttons and black stitching.

Chance had one of these coats, but the buttons were all there. Jason.Hamer doesn't have the coat, nor has he worn it recently. Nobody knew about Herb.What kind of clothes does Ge Taobai wear? The murderer had such strong motives and such patience that he could wait for his victim at six o'clock in the morning and then systematically drown her. Chance has a possible motive. Jason.Hamer also had a possible motive, if the two were lovers, but there is no evidence for this. Herb.Gotaobai didn't know what the motive was, but he almost certainly hated her. Judging from the points, Gotaobai has qualified.He knew where his sister lived; he had a "doomed murder" record; and he had a bad relationship with the deceased.

That's all!Gotaobai may self-inherit his identity tomorrow.All he wanted to do at the moment was numb himself with black coffee and try not to think about the newspaper. As he raised the glass to his lips, a man in the opposite corner made his eyes shine.The man's glass was half-empty, and he was watching Grant with friendly eyes. Grant smiled and spoke first. "Don't big stars want to be exposed? Why not give your fans a break?" "They can take a break whenever they want. Fans will have no problem. But you, it's been a tough time, isn't it? What do they think the police are? All-powerful?"

Grant rolled the honey on his tongue and swallowed it. "Someday," Owen said.Hughes said: "Somebody's gonna screw the damn Jimmy Hopkins' head off. If my face wasn't so valuable, I'd do it myself. He once said I was 'every girl's dream'! " "Is not it? " "Have you seen my farm lately?" "No. But I saw a picture of it in a newspaper one day, in ruins." "I don't mind telling you that when I got out of the car and saw it like that, I cried. I'd love to send that photo around the world to see what visibility can do. If Fifty years ago there might have been people who would have traveled miles to see this place and go home contented. But now there are busloads of people visiting Blair. My lawyers are busy stopping those' tour groups', but were utterly helpless. After the first few days, the Sheriff's Department refused to send anyone to stay. In the past two weeks, about 10,000 people have come. Take some souvenirs. Now there is hardly a piece of the fence left--it was twelve feet high and full of roses--and the whole garden has been trampled into mud. I really love that garden. I won't Singing to the violets is not enough, but planting the flowers and plants that others gave me and watching them grow brings me great joy. Now there is not even a trace left."

"Bad luck! And no compensation. That's enough to drive you crazy. Maybe next year those plants will be thriving again." "Oh, I'm going to sell that place. It's not clean anymore. Have you ever met Clay? No? She's truly extraordinary. Quite unique" Yeah, you know who might think kill her? "Hughes has the kind of smile that makes moviegoers in a movie theater grab the armrests of their seats. "I know a lot of people who would be happy to kill her on the spot when they get mad.But only on the spot.The moment your anger dies down, you'll be happy to go through fire and water for her again.Chrissy's death is really unbelievable--the way she died.

You know Lydia.Did Keats predict this from her horoscope?What a wonderful thing, this Lydia.She should have been drowned when she was born, but she's really one of a kind.I sent her Mary from Hollywood.When was Deckard born?Mary wants me to swear before she reveals her frightening age.Lydia didn't know whose horoscope she was looking at, but the calculated result was extremely accurate. If she goes to Hollywood, she will definitely shake the world. "It looks like she's going. said Grant coldly: "Do you like it there?" " "Good. You can have a good rest." Seeing Grant's eyebrows raised, he continued: "There are too many small stones on the beach, so almost no one can see where you are."

"I thought they were going to be doing tours for crazy Midwestern fans." "Yes, they'll take the bus down the street in front of your house, but they won't trample your flowers on the ground." "Probably if you're killed." "Still not. Murder is nothing out of the ordinary there. Well, I gotta go. Good luck to you. God bless you too. You did me a favor by cheering me up a lot." "I? " "You showed me that there's a career worse than my own." He dropped some money on the table and picked up his hat. "Everyone prays for the judge during church, but they don't say a word about the police!" He stood in the corner, adjusted his hat to the angle that the cameraman thought would be the best after many tests, and stepped out the door, leaving Grant alone.A vague sense of relief.