Chapter 20 Chapter Twenty

Yes, Grant has an imagination, but not Jimmy's. Grant would never send a good detective to stare at the audience and waste two hours of his time.The reason why Singer appeared in the Evers Pavilion was because his task was to monitor Jason.Hamer. He came back to report on the situation that afternoon, and from what he could see, Hamer was almost unresponsive. As soon as the scene ended, Hopkins of "The Horn" immediately approached Jason, but Hopkins didn't seem to be able to chat with him very well. "Really?" Grant said, raising one eyebrow. "If he's Hopkins interested, we'll have to reevaluate him. Smarter than I thought!" Singer grinned.

On Wednesday afternoon, Mr. Erskine called to say the fish had been bitten.The words he used, of course, were: "It appears that Inspector Grant's proposed line appears to have been unexpectedly successful." In short, he meant that the fish had appeared.Could Grant be asked to come over as soon as possible and study the papers that Mr. Erskine is anxious to show him?Grant sure can!Within twelve minutes he was in the little green-lit room. Erskine showed him a letter, his hands trembling more than usual. Sir: I read your ad saying if Herb.Gottaby can visit your office so he can hear some good news, I beg your pardon I can't come in person, but if you could send me your message by letter at 5 Slidder Street, Canterbury, I will get the letter.

Herb.Gotabbe, "Canterbury!" Grant's eyes lit up.He toyed with the letter as if it were a treasure.Letterhead is cheap paper and ink is bad quality ink.Writing and handwriting are not fluent either.Grant thought of the childish sentences and distinctive handwriting used in Christine's will, and couldn't help but lament the mysterious power of inheritance. "Canterbury! It's been unbelievably smooth, with an address. Why did he do that? Could this Herb be wanted? The police don't know him. At least not by that name. Too bad we don't have him." Photo."

"What do we do next, Inspector?" "You write and tell him you can't be sure it's Herb Gotauber if he doesn't come himself, so it's necessary for him to come to your office!" "Yes. Yes, that's right. That's the proper thing to do." As if it mattered if it was right or not, Grant thought.How did these people think the criminal was caught?What is certain is that it is not by considering whether it is appropriate to do it! "If you post it now, the letter will be in Canterbury tonight. I'll be there tomorrow morning and wait for the bird to fall into the trap. May I borrow the phone?"

He called the police station and asked: "Please check the wanted list. Is there a man who is a missionary fanatic or likes strong dramatic scenes?" The answer from the police station is no, except for one Heli.Every cop except Mike had known him for years. Also, it was reported that he lived in Plymouth. "Thank you very much!" Grant said and hung up the phone. "Strange!" he said to Erskine. "'If he's not wanted, why is he so low-key? If he doesn't have a conscience somewhere—no, he doesn't. I mean, if he doesn't have a conscience. In our possession, I think this guy will show up at your office as soon as he sees the letter. He'll do anything for the money. Clay knows where he's at and that's why he left that shilling for him on purpose. .”

"Lady Edward's judgment of human nature is very keen. I think because she was brought up in the trials and tribulations of society, this background enables her to judge things." Grant asked if he knew her well. "No, sorry, no. Very charming lady. Will be a little impatient with orthodoxy, but otherwise—" good.Grant could almost hear her saying, "What the hell does that mean? Please speak in plain language." She couldn't stand Mr. Erskine either. Grant left, went back to the police station and told Williams that he was going to accompany him to Canterbury tomorrow morning, and explained who would be the agent for the two when he was away, and then went home and slept for ten hours.Early the next morning, he and Williams left London, which was still awake, and arrived in Canterbury, where the breakfast was smoky.

The expedient address for correspondence turned out to be, as Grant expected, a small newsstand in a lonely street.Grant thought about it, and said: "I don't think this friend will definitely show up today, but no one dares to say. Go to that bar opposite, book the room above the main entrance, and have breakfast brought up for you.Don't leave the window and keep an eye out for everyone who comes.I'm going in. I will gesture to you from the window when I need you. "Don't you eat breakfast, sir?" " "I've had it. But you can order a takeaway lunch at one o'clock in the afternoon. It doesn't seem like a place like this to serve steak."

Grant lingered a moment, till he actually saw Williams at the upper window, and then went into the little shop. A chubby, bald man with a thick mustache was unpacking packs of cigarettes from cartons and putting them in glass cases. "Good morning. Are you Mr. Richter?" "I'm in the county," said Mr. Richter.Be cautious. "As far as I know, you sometimes use this address for people's correspondence, don't you?" Mr. Richter looked him over from head to toe.His experienced eyes cast a question mark: Is this a customer or a policeman?In the end he made the right judgment.

"So what if it is? There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" "It's all right!" Grant replied cheerfully. "I just wanted to know if you knew a Mr. Herbert Gotobbe?" "Is this a joke?" "Of course not. He has your shop as his mailing address, so I suppose you might know him." "It's none of my business. I'm not at all interested in the person who takes the letter. When they come to get the letter, they pay for it, and I don't care about the rest." "I see. I want you to do me a favor. I want you to let me stay in your shop until Mr. Gotobbey comes and asks for his letter. Is there a letter for him?"

"Yes, there is one. It arrived last night. But—are you a policeman?" "Scotland Yard." Grant showed him the papers. "Yes. Well, I don't want you arresting people in my shop. I'm in a respectable business, that's true, though there's a little side business. I don't want my business to get a bad name." Grant reassured him.He didn't intend to arrest anyone, he just wanted to see Mr. Gotobai.He has something to ask him. Well, if that's all it is. So Grant waited behind a rack of cheap newspapers at the end of the counter, and the morning turned out to be less rough than he had imagined.Despite years of service in the police force, Grant's vision of humanity is alive and well - except when it comes to depression - and the funny is everywhere.Williams, on the other hand, felt bored guarding an ordinary small town street.He greeted with joy the half-hour when Grant went out to lunch, standing behind the piles of books and talking, before returning reluctantly to the stinking room above the tavern.

In the long summer afternoon, the gloomy and warm weather passed by every minute, slowly passing into the foggy dusk, and the night came very early.When the lights came on, it looked very pale in the twilight. "What time do you close?" Grant asked anxiously. "Well, around ten o'clock." There is still plenty of time. At about half-past nine, Grant became aware that someone had entered the store. There was no warning beforehand, neither footsteps nor pleasantries, only the rustling of clothes.Grant looked up and saw a man in a monk's uniform. A high-pitched displeased voice said: "Did you have a letter addressed to Herb—" A slight movement of Grant caught his attention. The person didn't stop at all, and disappeared as soon as he turned around, without finishing his sentence. His appearance was so unexpected, and his disappearance was so sudden that most people would not be able to react for a second or two.But Grant rushed out of the shop before the strange man could get far.He saw the figure turn into an alley and ran quickly.This is the small backyard of a row of two-story buildings, all the doors are open to face the warm night, and there are two small fork roads leading to the outside.But the man was gone.He turned to see Williams behind him, a little out of breath. "Good guy!" he said, "but he can't run far. You go that alley, I'll take this one. He looks like a monk." "I just saw it!" Williams said, running after him. But no good news.They met at the shop ten minutes later and found nothing. "Who was that man just now?" Grant asked Mr. Richter. "I don't know. I don't remember seeing him." "Is there a monastery here?" "Canterbury? No!" "Oh, what about this area?" "Nor as far as I know." A woman behind them put sixpence on the counter. "A pack of gold leaf cigarettes," she said. "Are you looking for a monastery? There's a fraternity in Brevino. They're monks over there. They have ropes around their waists and they're bald." "Where is that—what? Brevino?" Grant asked. "Is it far from here?" "Not far. About two streets. Less than in a straight line, but in Canterbury it won't do you any good. It's in the lanes behind Cockferson. If Jim wasn't waiting for his cigarette I can take you there, Mr Richter, please give me a pack of sixpence." "I'm closed," said Mr. Richter gruffly, avoiding the detective's eyes.The woman's casual remark confirmed his failure to report his knowledge. She looked surprised, and before she could argue, Grant pulled his own cigarette case from his pocket. "Ma'am, as the saying goes, the state owns the state's laws, and the family has its own rules. With my meager power, I can't force him to sell you a pack of cigarettes, but please let me repay your favor and take these back to Jim." He put the cigarettes Poured on her surprised hands, and sent her away, protesting dissatisfiedly as she walked. "Now," he said to Richter, "do you know anything about this fraternity, or whatever it is?" "I don't know. There was such a thing, now that I think of it. But I don't know where they operate. You heard her too.Behind Cockfersen.Half the world's geeks have a chapter here, if that's what it is.I'm closing. " "I think so. "People who come to buy cigarettes are such a nuisance," Grant said. " Mr. Richter growled under his breath. "Come on, Williams. You must remember, Richter, that a word must not be said about this matter. You may see us again tomorrow." The words told Richter that it was too soon for him to ask if he would never see them again. "It's a queer thing, sir," said Williams as they walked down the street. "What's the next plan?" "I'm going to visit the fraternity. Williams, I don't think you'd better come along. You have a healthy, pretty Worchester County face. I'm afraid it's not at all connected with penance." "You mean I have a policeman's face. I know it myself, sir. I've had it all the time. It's not very good for our business. You don't know how envious I am of your looks, sir. When everyone sees you They all thought they were soldiers. It's always easier to be treated as a soldier." "No, I'm not thinking about your looks, Williams, it has nothing to do with that aspect. I'm just talking casually. It's an action that suits a person. You'd better go back and wait for me over there. Go and have a meal." After some searching, they found the place.A row of windows on the second floor overlooked the alley, but the only opening at ground level was a heavy, narrow door studded with decorative studs.There is neither a sign nor an inscription on the door, depriving the curious of any information.There was, however, a doorbell. Grant rang the bell, and after a long time, there was a faint sound of footsteps on the stone slabs inside the heavy door.A small grille on the door swung back, and a man appeared, asking Grant what he wanted. Grant said he wanted to find the person in charge. "Who do you want to see?" "The person in charge." Grant said firmly.He didn't know what they called their leader, whether it was the abbot or the bishop, but he thought it would be good enough to call the person in charge. "At this moment, the elder teacher does not see any guests." "Please send my business card to the dean," Grant said, and passed a small square business card into the grille: "And tell him that I have something important to tell, please take time to meet him." "The mundane affairs of the world are not important." "You give my business card to the headmaster, and he may make another decision after reading it." The grille door snapped back into place, an action that might have come across as rude in a place not so sacred, and Grant was left in the dark street.Williams saluted silently a few steps away, then turned and left.The sounds of children playing could be heard clearly from the neighboring street, but this alley was deserted.After Williams' footsteps faded away, it took a long time before someone came from the other side of the door.Then there was the crackling sound of the bolt being drawn, and the sound of the keyhole being turned. (What were they trying to keep out? Grant wondered. Life? Or refraining from letting misguided minds in?) The door was opened to a gap just wide enough for a man to pass through, and the man invited others in. "May peace be with you and all Christians, and may the protection of the Heavenly Father be with you forever. Amen." The man hurriedly uttered a long series of vague words as he inserted the latch back and locked the door.Now if he sang "Sing to Me Sometimes," the effect would be much the same, Grant thought. "Your Majesty the Headmaster can see you now." The man said, walking up the stone corridor to lead the way, the sandals on his feet clapped on the stone floor, looking rather lazy.He ushered Grant into a small whitewashed room that contained nothing but a table, some chairs, and a picture of a crucifixion.He said "Peace be with you" and closed the door, leaving Grant alone.It was very cold in here, and Grant hoped that the Master Master would not make him wait here for a long time in order to punish him. In less than five minutes, however, the porter returned, and stooped with the utmost respect to usher in his master.He muttered another prayer before leaving the two of them in the room and walking away.Grant had expected a madman, but instead he stood before a fine preacher, poised, poised, and worldly. "Is there anything I can do for you, son?" "I think there's a Herb Gotabbe in your fraternity—" "There's no one here by that name." "I also guess that he won't use this name in your congregation, but you must know the real names of these congregations who worship under your sect." "From the day everyone walks through the door and becomes part of us, common names drop." "Didn't you ask me if I needed your services?" "I'm still willing to serve you." "I want to see Herb. Gotabbe. I have news for him." "I've never heard of anyone with that name. And it's unlikely that anyone who's joined the Lebanese Tree Brotherhood has any 'messages' to hear." "Very well. You probably don't really know who Gotaobe is. But the man I'm looking for is in your group. I must ask you to let me in to him. ""You mean I should call all the people out for you to look at? " "No. You have one of those services that all monks attend?" "certainly." "Let me go to that service." "That's a very unusual request." "When is the next service?" "The midnight ceremony will begin in an hour and a half." "Then I just ask for a seat where I can see all the faces of the congregation." The prelate was very embarrassed, and mentioned the inviolability of the church, but Grant's touching but outdated church practices and the words that the king's handwriting still had magical powers, which Grant intentionally or unintentionally revealed, changed his mind. "By the way, can you tell me--I'm afraid I'm very new to your rules and ways of life--does your congregation have any activity in town?" "No. Unless motivated by compassion." "So the monks have no communication with the outside world at all?" If this is the case, it seems that Heb will have a perfect alibi! "A monk has a chance to live once a month for twenty-four hours. This is to avoid the pure and unblemished group life that will make Xiutu develop self-righteous habits.During the twelve hours of the day he must help his fellow man in certain ways permitted.Twelve hours at night must be spent in one place alone in meditation.Outdoors in the summer and in certain churches in the winter. ""I see.Then these twenty-four hours are—from what moment? " "From midnight to midnight." "Thank you."