Chapter 9 Chapter 9 The Cracked Tomb

Dr. Phil paced aimlessly, sighed, and sat down in the largest chair. "Brother Henry—" His voice was deep and loud, "Well, yes. I'm afraid the problem has come back to him." "Damn Brother Henry," said Hadley, very depressed, "we need to arrest Brother Peale first. He knows! Why hasn't the inspector reported back? Where's the guy who sent to arrest people at the theater?" Did these bastards go home and fall asleep, or—” "We don't need to mess ourselves up first," Dr. Phil hurriedly interrupted Hadley's grievances, muttering and cursing, "Han Rui just wants us to mess up. Now, we have Grimaud's last words in our hands." , at least we still have a clue..."

"What clue?" "The things he said to us, the things we couldn't make sense of. Unfortunately, those words are of no use to us now, so we'll have to gamble and try to explain. About this new testimony , I am afraid that we will be led to a dead end by Grimaud. In fact, he is not giving us information; he is just asking us a question." "What the hell is going on here?" "Can't you see that he had to? The last words, 'God only knows how he left. One moment he was there, the next he wasn't.' Now we'll start with your book In your useless notebook, pick up the words you have written down. You and Ted have heard a little different versions of each; but we can start with what both of us agree on, and we all agree are correct. First tidy up The first problem. I think we can now safely say that the words 'Howarth' and 'salt mine' should be correct. Let's solve the part where the two opinions differ. The words you have in common are Which ones?"

Hadley tapped the torreya with his fingers. "I started... here! The same words are: 'he can't use the rope', 'roof', 'snow', 'fox', 'too bright'. If we make a combination of these words, and then with his If you piece together a meaningful sentence from a last statement, you might get something like this: 'Only God knows how he got off. He couldn't have used a rope to get on the roof or down the snow. One moment he was there, the next he was there. It's gone. The light was so bright that I couldn't miss any of his movements...' But wait a minute! About..."

"Now," Dr. Phil muttered impatiently, "try to combine different words. Ted heard 'it wasn't a suicide. ', that's very interesting; and the sentence you heard 'has a gun' can easily be connected to other sentences, 'I didn't expect him to shoot'. Bah! All the clues go around It’s going in circles, and there are so many problems. It’s the first time I’ve come across a case like this, and the victim wants to know the truth just like everyone else.” "But 'fox'? That word doesn't fit anywhere." Dr. Fell looked at him, displeasure flickering in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, no, it fits in. It's the easiest part—and probably the most ingenious, but let's not try to find a place for it just yet. It involves people hearing the misspelled word, The associations produced. If I do a word association test (this damn noun) for people from different backgrounds, for example, when I suddenly lower my voice and say 'Fox' (Fox), for a jockey, he may Will answer 'Hounds', but if the other party is a historian, he will probably bark and say... What will it say? Answer it!" "Guy! (Referring to Guy Fawkes, whose surname is 'Fawkes', spelled 'Fawkes', pronounced like 'fox' and pronounced 'Fox')" Hadley replied, cursing with.

After the atmosphere was low for a while, he went on to say: "You mean we have to go back and talk about that Guy Fawkes mask forever, or something like that?" "Well, almost everyone has a lot of exaggerated descriptions on this topic," the doctor said, scratching his forehead. Accident. Does this teach you anything?" "It told me that I must communicate with Mr. Dreyman!" The criminal director said unhappily. He strode towards the door, and suddenly found Mills' bony face protruding through the crack of the door, behind the thick lenses, he still showed an expression of attentive listening.

"Wait a minute, Hadley," Dr. Phil interjected hastily, seeing the director angrily issue the eviction order, "you are a strange man. You can be a sentinel calmly when the mysteries are flying around; but when we are getting more and more When you are close to the truth, you can't calm down. Let our little friend stay, he should listen, although now he can only hear the end." He chuckled, "You have already told Dreyman Suspicious? Ha! On the contrary, it should not be what you think. Remember, we have not yet completed the whole puzzle. There is one piece of the figure that we have not figured out, and the last piece is the sentence you heard with your own ears The pink mask was worn to make Grimaud think that it was Dreymans, and many people seem to have thought so. But Grimaud knew who the face behind the mask was. Therefore, about you The last few words recorded! 'Don't blame poor...', we can make a very reasonable explanation. He seems to like Dreyman very much." After a pause, Dr. Phil said to Mills, "Child , go and bring him up."

The door closed again, Hadley sat down wearily, and took out a crushed and unlit cigar from his breast pocket.With a ferocious expression, he tucked a finger into the collar of his collar, as if most people would unconsciously feel that the collar was too tight when they were troubled. "Need to play more flower guns, huh?" he asked, "Need to play more nervous reasoning games? This young man is so brave, huh!" He stared at the floor, still embarrassingly Mumbling and complaining. "I must be out of control! It's too bad, how can I have such superstitious thoughts! Do you have any specific suggestions?"

"Yes. But you have to wait a moment, I'm going to try Gross' identification method." "What about Gross?" "Gross's method. Don't you remember? We discussed it tonight. I'm going to collect the burnt and half-destroyed papers in the fireplace very carefully and see if Gross's method reveals the Handwriting. Can you be quiet?" Hadley made a contemptuous voice, and was yelled at by Dr. Phil. "I dare not say that all the handwriting will appear, and I'm not even sure that I can see half of it, but I can always make up a line of writing, so that we can guess, what is the thing that Grimaud thinks is more important than his own life? What is it. Huh, ha! Just do it."

"How to play this trick?" "You'll see in a moment. Remember, I'm not saying that the completely burnt pieces of paper will be fully restored. However, something will definitely show up, especially the charred pieces in the middle that are only charred ...Besides this, I can't think of any other way, unless we ask—eh, what's the matter?" The expressionless police officer Betts came in to report that the amount of snow falling on him was much less this time.Before closing the door, he also looked out the door. "Sir, I've searched the entire back yard, the adjoining sides and the top of the fence. There aren't any footprints or marks... but I'm sure we - Preston and I - have got a guy. When we come back When entering the house, a tall old guy ran down from the stairs on the first floor. He fumbled for the railing while walking. When he ran past a wardrobe, he bumped into his chest with a bang, as if he was not familiar with this place. Later He put on his coat and hat, and went straight to the door. He said his name was Dreyman, and he lived in the house, but we think—”

"You'll see in a moment that he has very poor eyesight," said Dr. Fell. "Please let him in." In a way, the man who walked in was an impressive fellow.He had a long, calm face, with sunken temples; his head was partly bald, with gray hair growing back, so that his forehead looked high, narrow, and wrinkled.His eyes were bright blue, and although there were dense horizontal lines at the corners of his eyes, his eyes did not appear cloudy and old at all, they looked gentle and full of confusion.He has an aquiline nose, and two deep nasolabial folds on either side of his kind and restless lips; he has a habit of frowning, so that his eyebrows seem to be raised and lowered, making it easier for others to think he is disturbed.Even though he is hunched over, his figure is still huge; even though he looks like a fairy, he still gives people a strong and powerful feeling.On the whole, he looks like a soldier who is getting older and a gentleman whose life is getting more and more loose.There was no trace of humor in his face, but there was a kind of vague and shy good-nature.He was wearing a dark overcoat buttoned up to his chin.He stood at the door, staring at them with difficulty under his tangled eyebrows, holding his bowler hat on his chest, hesitating at what to say. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, I'm really, really sorry," he said, his voice low and strange, as if he was not used to speaking, "I know I should have come to see you sooner. However, Mr. Mangan just Wake me up and tell me what happened. I feel I must go and see Grimaud, to see if there is anything I can do..." Rimbaud had a feeling in his heart that this man's head was drowsy and not sober, maybe he was still asleep, or the effect of the sleeping pills had not dissipated; but his eyes were very bright, probably because of the glass prosthetic eyes.He leaned in, put one hand on the back of a chair, but didn't sit down immediately until Hadley asked for it. "Mr. Mangan told me..." he said, "Professor Grimaud..." "Professor Grimaud has just passed away," said Hadley. Dreyman still kept his hunchback as straight as possible, and folded his hands on the hat.At this time, the room was filled with solemn silence. Dreyman closed his eyes, and then opened them again. His eyes seemed to be projected in a distant place, and his breathing seemed slow and heavy. "God may his soul rest in peace," said Dreyman very gently. "Charles Grimaud was a very good friend." "You already know how he died?" "Yes, Mr. Mangan has told me." Hadley studied him. "Then you must be able to understand and tell us everything, everything you know, to help us catch the murderer of your friend?" "I... yes, of course." "Please understand, Mr. Dreyman, please understand deeply! We want to know his past. You know him very well. Where did you know him?" Dreyman's long face was full of bewilderment, and in a trance, it seemed that his facial features had lost their position. "In Paris. In 1905, he received his doctorate...that was the year I met him." The old past seemed to be confusing him; he covered his eyes with his hands, and there was a kind of resentment in his tone, Like asking where someone hid his collar button. "Grimaud's performance was very good. In the same year, he went on to obtain an associate professorship in Dijon (a city in eastern France). But at that time, one of his relatives passed away and left him a generous inheritance. So He...he gave up his job and came to England not long after. That's all I know. I didn't see him again until it was many years later. Is that what you want to know?" "You never saw him before 1905?" "yes." Hadley's body bent forward. "Where did you save his life?" He suddenly asked about it. "Save his life? I don't understand." "Mr. Dreyman, have you ever been to Hungary?" "I... I have traveled to the Continent, so I may have been to Hungary. But that was many years ago, when I was young, and I can't remember it now." Now, it was Hadley who was ready to play tricks. "You saved his life," he insisted, "near Sabantman Prison in the Capersian Mountains, when he was on the run. You saved him, didn't you?" Dreyman sat upright, his bowler hat tightly held in his thin palms.Rimbaud felt a resistance rising up in him, perhaps he had not been so tenacious in more than ten years. "Really?" he said. "It's useless to use this trick. We know everything, even the time - which you have added for us. Carolie Howarth in a book before he was in prison Wrote the date '1898'. Regardless of the period of AP, he also spent at least four years in Paris to get his doctorate. Therefore, the period of his imprisonment and escape, we can arbitrarily shorten to Three years. With this information," Hadley said dryly, "I can send a telegram to Bucharest (the capital of Romania) and get the detailed information within twelve hours. So, you'd better be honest Tell the truth. Everything about Carolie Howarth, you know, I gotta know all about--and his two brothers. One of the brothers killed him. Finally I Mind you, failure to report is a felony. Understand?" For a while, Dreyman put his hands over his eyes, patting the carpet with the soles of his feet.Then he looked up, and everyone couldn't help being shocked, because although his wrinkled glass eyes had two blue lights, his face was full of gentle smiles. "Committed a felony," he repeated, and nodded. "Is that so? To be honest, sir, I don't care about your threat at all. It is rare for a person like me who looks at you like a poached egg on a plate and who can only recognize the outline of objects. What makes me angry and scared. In this world, almost all human fears (and ambitions) are caused by specific things-eyes, movements and gestures. You young people will not understand, But I still hope you understand. You know, I'm not completely blind. I can see people's faces, the morning sky, and things that poets insist that blind people should be obsessed with. But I can't read; and this The faces I most wanted to see in the past eight years are even more blurred than my own old face. When one day, when you only hope for these two things in your life, but you can’t achieve them, you will You will know that nothing can affect you anymore." He nodded again, looked at the opposite side, and wrinkled his forehead. "Sir, I am more than willing to give you any information you may require, so long as it can be of assistance to Charles Grimaud. But I do not see the need to rake up the dusty scandal." "Even if it's to find out the brother who killed him, isn't it necessary?" Dreyman's face twitched, and he frowned. "If that counts as a favor, I can tell you honestly, stop pursuing this lead. I don't know where you got it. He has two brothers, and he's been in prison." He said He smiled again. "But it's nothing to hide. They were imprisoned for political reasons. I guess in those days, most of the young people who swallowed fire and did magic were not spared...don't forget about this brother, they all Been dead for years." The room was so silent that Rimbaud could only hear the last crack of the fireplace and Dr. Phil's gasping breath.Hadley looked at Dr. Phil.He was closing his eyes, and then staring straight at Dreyman with an expressionless face, as if the man had sharp eyesight. "How do you know these things?" "Grimaud told me," said Dreyman, still pronouncing his name deliberately, "and besides, at that time, all the newspapers from Budapest to Brasson reported it. To prove these things is Easy." He said simply, "They all died of the Black Death." "Of course, if you can prove that the news is true..." Hadley's tone was quite polite. "Can you promise me that you will not dig up the scandals of the past? (Those blue eyes are really hard to focus. Dreyman's bony hands made a sudden interlocking and then loosened.) If I tell the truth, I will Show evidence, can you let the dead rest in peace?" "It depends on what you tell us." "Very well. Then I will tell you what I saw!" he said wearily (thought Rimbaud). "In a way, it was a terrible incident. Grimaud and I have never seen each other again since." It's been talked about, we have an understanding. But I don't want to lie to you that I've forgotten it, I don't remember anything." He was silent for a long time, tapping his temples with his fingers constantly, forcing Hadley, who could hardly bear his temper, couldn't help but want to urge him again.Finally, he said: "Sorry, gentlemen, I'm just trying to recall the exact date so you can check it. As far as I can think, should it be in August or September 1900...or in 1901? Never mind , anyway, I'll start with a French saga - but with absolute candor. It begins: On a bleak and dying day in September 19XX, a lone jockey travels along the road. (That's really A deadly road!) It's a rough and treacherous valley southeast of Capersian. Now I'm about to start describing those wild woodlands and all. I'm the jockey and it's about to rain Now, I hope to be in Tweedy before dark." he smiles.Hadley moved impatiently, but Dr. Fell just opened his eyes; then Dreyman went on quickly. “I had to create an atmosphere of a novel because it suited my mood better and articulated it more clearly. I was at a romantic, rebellious age, passionate about the idea of ​​political liberty. One of my So I rode on horseback instead of walking because I thought I was making a name for myself in the society; I took the trouble to carry a pistol against bandits (imagination only), and I carried amulets to deter devils , complacent, never tired of it. Even if I have never encountered ghosts or thieves, I believe they must exist. I know that I have been disturbed by them several times. The cold forests and valleys in front of me have a sense of Fairytale wild, spooky and spooky even with some developed areas scattered through it. Transylvania, you know, is a place that's shadowed by mountains on three sides For an Englishman, the scene of rye fields and vineyards lined with steep hills, the red and yellow attire of the villagers, the tavern that looks like garlic, and even the landscape of salt pans in barren areas, is full of sight. Everything is astonishing. "All in all, I was winding my way along a winding mountain road in a desolate mountain area, the wind was blowing in my face, and there was no tavern for miles to rest. The locals said that behind every hedge on this road, there was a The idea that there are evil spirits lurking stalks me horrifies me; but there are still worse reasons for my shudders. After the scorching heat has passed, the plague has broken out and spread, and the whole district is surrounded by a swarm of gnats, even I can’t gather in the cold winter season. The village I just passed—I forgot what it’s called—the villagers told me that in the salt mine area in the mountainous area ahead, the situation of gnats and mosquitoes was even more violent. But I wholeheartedly hoped to arrive Tweedy, to meet my British friend who is also traveling elsewhere. I also want to have a glimpse of the famous prison, which looks like a low mountain range, named after the seven white hills, in the Rear. So I said I decided to keep going. "I knew I must be getting closer to the prison, because the white hills were ahead. However, as the sky became so dark, I could hardly see my fingers. The strong wind was blowing the trees tottering, as if they were about to be torn apart. Fragments, at this point I descended into a depression and passed three tombs on the way. They looked quite new, as if they had just been dug, as there were still footprints all around, but as far as I could see, I didn't see a single person .” Hadley interrupted abruptly, breaking the eerie atmosphere created by the dreamlike narrative. "The place," said he, "resembled a landscape painting that Professor Grimaud had bought from Mr. Burnaby." "I...I don't know," Dreyman replied, clearly taken aback. "Is that so? I didn't notice." "Didn't notice? You haven't seen that painting?" "I didn't see it very clearly. I only saw the general outline, the woods, the general scenery—" "And the three tombstones?" "I don't know where Burnaby got his inspiration from," Dreyman replied vaguely, and he stroked his forehead with his hand. "For God's sake, I never told him about it. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But that The three tombs had no standing headstones. Their tombstones were ordinary, just crosses made of sticks. "But I tell you, when I sat on horseback and looked at those tombs, I felt uncomfortable. They looked really strange, with white hills on top, and green and black landscapes around them. But it's also Not the main reason. If they were prison tombs, why were they dug in such a remote place? The next thing I realized, my horse lurched back and almost threw me off. I hurried Twirling the horse rope, leaning against a tree; then I looked back, and I knew why the horse was wrong—there was a mound of a tomb that suddenly heaved and slid, making a crackling sound, and then Something writhed and squirmed; and then a dark thing groped out of the mound. It was just an arm with wriggling fingers—but I never saw a more horrible sight in all my life! "