Chapter 10 Chapter 10: The Blood on the Coat

"At that juncture," continued Dreyman, "I lost my bearings too. I dared not dismount to look, lest the horse should run away; and I was not ashamed to run away. I could not help thinking of vampire stories and folklore, The scene of the devil bursting out of the chaos. To tell you the truth, I was petrified by that thing. I remember kicking the horse around in a hurry, trying to tighten the horse rope with one hand, and pulling out the revolver with the other A pistol. Then I looked back and the thing had crawled out of the grave and was running towards me. "That's it, gentlemen, I met my best friend. He found a shovel on the ground, which must have been left there by the man who had finished digging the grave. He ran on to me. .I yelled in English: 'What do you want to do?'—I was so dazed that I had forgotten all other languages. The man stopped. Then he answered in English too, but fuck He spoke with a foreign accent. 'Help,' he said, 'Help, sir; don't be afraid.' Or so. Then he dropped the shovel. By this time the horse was much quieter, but I was still in shock. The man's He is not tall, but looks very strong; his face is dark and swollen, scattered with some dirty black spots, and under the dim light at dusk, his whole face is slightly pink. Then the heavy rain suddenly poured down, and he still Stand still, waving your arms.

"He was standing in the rain and talking to me. I didn't want to repeat what he said word for word, but it was like, 'Listen, sir, I'm not like those two poor guys, I didn't die of the bubonic plague,'" he said. Looking at the grave, 'I am not infected by the plague, and you will understand when the rain washes me away. This is my own blood, the blood that flowed from the skin when I stabbed myself.' He even stretched out the dirty black tongue, let the rain wash it away, to show that it was stained with soot. The situation, this person, this place before me, was so crazy and weird that I couldn't help it. Then he went on, he Not an ordinary criminal, but a political prisoner who is just trying to escape from prison."

Dryman's forehead furrowed, and he smiled again. "Save him? I did it naturally. Besides, I was also full of curiosity about the hidden secrets. Later, when we drew up the escape plan, he explained everything to me. He and the other two brothers were both from Clausenburg University. students, in a riot against Austria for the independence of Transylvania, they were arrested—as was the case before 1860. Three of them were held in the same cell, and two of them died in black Death sickness. With the assistance of the prison doctor—this doctor is also a prisoner—Grimaud pretended to have the same symptoms and pretended to be dead. At that time, the whole prison was in danger of the Black Death, panicked, So no one bothered to check the doctor's diagnosis. Even the men who buried the three of them at the time turned their heads away when they threw the bodies into the pine coffin and sealed the coffin with nails. Seeing that the place where they buried the bodies was not far from the prison. There was a distance, and, as they were always in such a hurry to nail the lid on, the prison doctor first slipped him a stapler—my friend who survived the disaster had shown it to me. He was originally a strong and powerful man. If he could remain calm after being buried alive and not waste too much oxygen, he could actually lift the coffin lid with his head and allow the stapler to find a gap to insert. In short, this strong man The man finally managed to break through the soft mud.

"Well, when he knew that I was a student in Paris, it was easy to communicate. His mother is French, so he can speak French fluently. After we discussed it, it was decided that it would be better for him to pretend to be Frenchman, where he can establish a whole new identity without arousing suspicion. He's got a little money stashed away, and he's got a girl back home—" Dreyman suddenly stopped, as if he suddenly realized that he had talked too much.Hadley just nodded. "We all know who the girl is," he said. "Now, we can ignore Mrs. Dumo. What's next?"

"You can rest assured that she will bring the money and come to Paris with him. At this time, it is unlikely that there will be a fugitive arrest notice—in fact, there has never been one. But although it has been regarded as death , but he was still too frightened to shave his face or put on my coat first, and fled the place in a hurry. In short, we did not arouse any suspicion. There was no such thing as a passport in those days. On the way out of Hungary, he They all turned themselves into the friend who was going to meet me in Tridy, and used his identity to announce. Once they entered France... you all know what happened afterwards. Now, gentlemen!" Dreyman exhaled with horror, His attitude stiffened, and he looked at everyone with cold and empty eyes. "Everything I just said, you can check—"

"What's the matter with the cracking sound?" Dr. Phil interrupted suddenly and anxiously. This question sounds quite common, but it is very surprising to ask it at this moment.Hadley turned quickly to look at him, and even Drayman's eyes turned to him questioningly.But Dr. Fell's ruddy face was contorted blankly at this moment, he gasped, and poked the carpet with his cane. "It's very important," he declared to the fireplace, as if someone were contradicting him, "very important indeed. Well, Mr. Dreyman, I just have two questions. You hear the cracking—it's the coffin The sound of the cover twisting, isn't it? Yes? So it means that this grave, which Grimaud crawled out of, was dug rather shallow?"

"That's right, very shallow, otherwise he wouldn't be able to climb out at all." "Second question. That prison, now...was it a strict or lax place?" Dreyman was still confused, but his jaw was still clenched. "I don't know, sir. But I know it was attacked by a group of government officials at the time. They severely accused the prison authorities of allowing the plague to spread in the prison because it affected the work performance of the salt mine prisoners; and they also published The death list, I have seen it. I ask you again, what is the use of digging up these old scandals? It is all in vain. You have heard the reason, which is not at all good for Grimaud An ugly thing, but—”

"That's right, that's the point," Dr. Phil said in a low voice, staring at Dreyman with strange eyes, "I want to emphasize this. There's nothing shady about it. What the hell is that?" , forcing a person to remain anonymous and cover up all his past?" "This... this may be a dishonorable thing for Ernestine Dumo," Dreyman said with a little excitement. "Don't you understand what I'm implying? What about Grimaud's daughter? Just guessing that his brother may be alive, and then digging up other people's past crimes with impunity? They are dead, and the dead are not. Will crawl out of the grave. May I ask you where you got the idea that Grimaud's brother killed him?"

For a moment, Rimbaud thought that Dreyman had no idea.Then he got up staggeringly from his seat, as if he was having a hard time breathing.He unbuttoned his coat awkwardly and touched his throat before sitting down again.The only thing that remains unchanged is the expression of the glass eyeballs that has not changed slightly. "Are you lying to me?" He questioned, his trembling, irritable, and childish tone forced away his usual calmness, "Why are you lying to me?" "It's the truth. Look at this!" Hadley quickly handed out the note from Dr. Peterson.Dreyman moved forward to pick up the package, then sat back on the chair while shaking his head.

"I don't see what that means, sir. I, I...you mean, before he died he said..." "He said the murderer was his brother." "What else did he say?" Dryman asked hesitantly. Hadley left him to guess without answering. Dreyman went on to say: "I can tell you, this is ridiculous! Are you implying that the liar who threatened him, the guy he never knew, is his brother? You think so. But I still can't understand .From the moment I found out that he was assassinated..." "Assassination?" "That's right. I just said, I—"

"He was shot," Hadley said. "How do you think he was assassinated?" Dryman shrugged.On his wrinkled face, there was an expression of displeasure, sarcasm, and even a bit of self-abandonment. "I'm probably a very bad witness, gentlemen," he said in a steady voice, "but I'm going to tell you in all sincerity what you don't believe. Perhaps I'll just jump to conclusions. Mr. Mangan and I said that Grimaud had been attacked and his life was in danger; he also said that the killer had cut the painting into pieces and then disappeared. So I thought..." He wiped the bridge of his nose. "What else do you want to ask me?" "What did you do tonight?" "I'm sleeping. I'm... you know, I'm not feeling well, right here, behind the eyeballs. I was feeling sick during dinner, so I didn't go out (I was going to see a concert at the Albert Hall Yes), I took a sleeping pill and lay down. Unfortunately, I can't remember anything from the time after seven-thirty until Mangan woke me up." Hadley's attitude was unusually calm. He looked at the other's open coat, but there was a look of alert on his face, as if he was about to pounce on him. "I understand. Mr. Dreyman, did you take off your clothes when you went to bed?" "What? Undress? No. I just take off my shoes, that's all. Why do you ask?" "Have you ever left the room?" "No." "Then how did you get the blood on your coat... Yes, it's blood. Stand up, don't try to run! Stand still! Now, take off your coat." Rimbaud saw Dreyman standing beside the chair and taking off his coat without knowing why, and groping with one hand on his chest, like a person searching the floor.He's wearing a light gray suit now, and the splatters on it are very bright and eye-catching.A dark stain runs down the side of the jacket to the right pocket.Dreyman's fingers wandered around and stopped when they touched the stain.He rubbed it with his fingers for a moment, then brushed. "That can't be blood," he murmured, his voice still high and irritated, "I don't know what it is, but it can't be blood, I tell you!" "We'll have to check. Please take off your suit jacket, I'm afraid we'll have to take it. Is there anything in your pocket to pick up?" "but……" "Where did you get that stain?" "I don't know, I swear I don't, and I can't speculate. It's not blood. Why do you think it's blood?" "Give me the coat, please...very good." Dreyman's fingers were twitching. He took some change, a concert ticket, a handkerchief, a pack of Honeysuckle cigarettes, and a matchbox from his pocket. Hadley stared at him intently.After taking the coat, he spread it out on his knees. "If we search your room, do you have any objection? I declare first that if you refuse, I have no right to do so." "No objection," Dreyman said slowly while stroking his forehead, "as long as you tell me what happened, Director! I don't know anything. I just want to help... Yes, It's just a little help... this case has nothing to do with me." His voice was interrupted, and a mocking and miserable smile appeared on his face.Rimbaud felt that this smile puzzled him more than he suspected. "Have I been arrested? I will have no objection, you know." Something didn't seem quite right, or rather, strange for no reason.Rimbaud knew Hadley was equally clueless.The man in front of him kept making weird and unrealistic statements, but the horror stories he narrated, no matter whether they were true or false, still had an ambiguous sense of drama—but at this moment, they were in his Actual blood was found on the coat.But somehow Rimbaud was inclined to believe his story, at least, what the man believed.Probably because he seems so (obviously) unsophisticated, because of his simplicity.He just stood like this, with only his shirt left on his body. He looked a little shrunken and thinner, but also seemed to be a little more slender.His blue shirt has faded to a slightly grayish white, the sleeves are all rolled up to his muscular upper arms, the tie is askew, and the coat hangs on his arms, but he still has a smile on his face. Hadley cursed softly. "Betts!" he cried, "Betts! Preston!" His heels tapped the floor impatiently until they answered. "Betts, send this coat to the pathologist for analysis of stains, understand? The report will be handed in tomorrow morning. That's it for tonight. Preston, follow Mr. Dreyman Go downstairs and give me a good look at his room. You know what you're looking for, don't you? Keep your eyes open and see if there's a mask or something. Wait a minute, I'll go down and look for it too. Think about it Well, Mr Dryman, I must ask you to come to Scotland Yard tomorrow morning. That's all." Dryman ignored Hadley's words.He blundered like a bat, shaking his head, his coat trailing behind him.He tugged at Preston's sleeve as he walked. "Where could I get the blood?" he asked eagerly. "It's a strange thing. Where on earth did I get this blood?" "I don't know, sir," said Preston, "watch out for the post!" At this moment, the dark room was completely silent.Hadley shook his head slowly. "This stumps me, Phil," he admitted, "I don't know if I take a big step forward or a whole back. What do you think of that guy? He seems pretty gentle, submissive, and easy; you can Despite chasing him around like a punching bag, he ended up hanging around in a dainty way. He didn't seem to care what people thought of him or what they did to him. Perhaps the reason why young people didn't like him was that this." "Well, that's right. After I put away all the papers in the fireplace," Dr. Fell muttered, "I'm going to go home and think about it. I just feel like..." "How about it?" "Creepy." Dr. Fell yanked to his feet, pressed his spade hat tightly over his eyebrows, and swung his cane vigorously. "I don't want to just talk on paper. You'll have to send a telegram to find out. Ha! Yes. I don't believe the story of the three coffins, though Dreyman may believe it. God knows, unless our whole reasoning is utter bullshit, Otherwise we'd have to assume the two Howarth brothers weren't dead, huh?" "The issue is……" "What happened to them? Well, that's right. The following speculation I made is based on the premise that Dreyman firmly believes that what he said is absolutely true. The first point! I don't believe that those brothers are political prisoners at all. Grimaud had just escaped from prison, and he already had "a little money saved up" in his hometown; after more than five years of disappearance, he suddenly inherited a huge fortune from an unknown source, and he himself transformed into a completely different person. Different names. In the end, he quietly left France and began to enjoy a new life. The second point is to show the evidence! If Derman's words are true, then what secrets in Grimaud's life could lead to danger? The escape of Monte Cristo is generally regarded as a thrilling and whimsical legend; for his crimes, in the view of the British, were stealing sidewalk lights, or Blindfolding the cops in a regatta makes no difference, it's just unruly and obnoxious. Damn it, Hadley, it's out of the question!" "You mean—" "I mean," said Dr. Phil in a straightforward manner, "when Grimaud was nailed into the coffin, he was still alive. What if the other two were also alive? Suppose these three 'dead people' were all like Grimaud. The same is suspended animation? Suppose when Grimaud climbed out of his coffin, there were two living people trapped in his own coffin respectively? But they couldn’t get out...because Grimaud had a stapler in his hand , but did not use them on them. In the circumstances at the time, it was not possible to get an extra stapler. Grimaud had it because he was the strongest in physique, and once he climbed out of the coffin, he wanted to put the others It was easier for him to get it out, so their plan was finalized. However, he let them be buried alive in the ground with evil intentions, because in this way, he could swallow the three people's stolen Money. A very clever crime! A very clever criminal method!" Everyone was dumbfounded.Hadley muttered to himself in a low voice, and when he got up from his seat, the expression on his face was cloudy and uncertain. "Oh, I know there's a lot going on here!" Dr. Phil's voice was low and loud. "If he really committed such a black heart and shameless deed, of course he will have nightmares every night. However, this is the only way to explain this ugly case and explain why this man is worried about whether his brother crawled out of the grave...why Would Grimaud urge Dreyman to leave quickly without taking off his prison uniform? Why would he risk being seen on the road and escape when he could hide safely near the Black Death tomb where the local residents were afraid? Well, those graves were dug fairly shallow. As the minutes passed, if the brothers realized they were about to suffocate and no one came to help, they might have screamed and pounded on the coffin. Dreyman may well have seen the mound loosen, or heard the final call from there." Hadley wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Which rat would--" He drew the end of the voice very long, and he felt unbelievable. "No, you're going in the wrong direction, Phil, this is entirely in your imagination, it's impossible! They can't crawl out of their graves, they would have died by then!" "Really?" Dr. Fell seemed absent-minded, "Did you forget that shovel?" "What shovel?" "The shovels left by those hapless grave-diggers out of fear and haste. Even with the dumbest inmates at the moment, there's no way the jail would allow such carelessness. They'll send someone back Look. Dude, I don't have even a shred of evidence to support this theory, but I can as sure as I watched it happen. Just think of every word that crazy Foyle said to Grimaud in Warwick's Tavern , and then check whether what I said made sense. Later, two calm armed guards came back to find the shovel. They saw or heard the sight that Grimaud was afraid of Dreyman. They may have been scared out of their wits, or There was a general emotional reaction, but anyway, in the end the coffin was pried open and the brothers rolled out, bloody and dying, but still alive." "In that case, why didn't they issue a warrant for Grimaud? They can arrest this jailbreaker in Hungary—" "Well, that's right. I've thought about it too, and I've asked myself that question. Prison authorities are supposed to do this...but maybe because they were under serious fire at the time, and the future of the prison's top staff was at stake. It's in jeopardy. What do you think the critics would say if they found out that they had made such a big mistake? So the best way to deal with it is to put the brothers in a dark prison, and then the third The whereabouts of the victims are suppressed.” "It's all conjecture," said Hadley, after a moment's thought, "but if it's the truth, then I really want to believe that people are evil. God knows, and Grimaud's evil is rewarded with evil. But we It's business as usual, and the murderer must be found. If—” "Of course it's not only that!" Dr. Phil said, "Even if it's the truth, it's only part of the whole story; and the most difficult thing to deal with is here. You mentioned that people are inherently evil, and I can tell you that I can't imagine that There are more wicked minds than Grimaud; except, of course, Unknown X, the Void, that Brother Henry." He waved his stick for emphasis. "Why? Why did Pierre Foyle admit that he was afraid of that man? Grimaud was rightly afraid of his enemy; yet why was Foyle also afraid of his brother, this ally with whom he had the same goal of vengeance? Why a Are professional magicians also afraid of phantoms? Could it be that this Brother Henry is as sloppy as a madman and as shrewd as Satan at the same time?" Hadley pocketed his notebook and buttoned his coat. "Go home if you want," he said. "We're done here. But I've got to go after Foyle. Whoever this other brother is, Foyle knows. He'll tell." , I assure you. I'm going to take a look at Dreyman's room now, but I don't expect to find anything. Foyle is the key to this mystery, and he will lead us to the murderer. Can we go?" They did not know until the next morning that, in fact, Foyle was dead by then, shot by the same gun that had taken Grimaud's life.The killer has never been present to witnesses at the scene, and still won't leave footprints in the snow.