Chapter 16 Chapter 16 Chameleon Coat

From the discovery of the new coat to the lunch time agreed upon with Pettis, Dr. Phil's mood fell all the way to the bottom, which seemed unbelievable in Rimbaud's eyes, and of course he didn't know why. At first the Doctor insisted that Hadley should go to Russell Square, but he himself refused to go.He believed that the key clue to the case must have been left in Foyle's room, and he said that he would ask Rimbaud to support him in some "thankless and obscene activities".Then, the doctor began to curse himself bitterly, and even Hadley, who would usually agree with him, couldn't help but persuade him.

"What will you find there?" Hadley urged. "Sommers has searched the place!" "I don't have a specific goal. I'm just hoping," the Doctor grumbled, "to find clues about Henry, his features, his hair, his... oh my god, fuck you Henry Brothers!" Hadley said they could ignore what the people in the Spanish monastery were muttering to themselves, but he couldn't figure out why his old friend was so irritated by that elusive Henry that he even reached On the verge of insanity.After all, there were no new clues that could stimulate him!Before leaving the place, the Doctor stopped them all for a rehearsal of questioning Miss Harker, the landlady here.O'Rloch pulled out his flashbacks of his acting career, and had already competently stumbled the landlady downstairs; however, the two men were both good at talking, so it was hard to say which had the longer flashbacks.

Dr. Fell agrees that Miss Harker's questioning is, in a word, fruitless.Miss Harker is an aging and easy-to-get-along old maid. Although she is eager to help, her thinking is a bit out of bounds. Subconsciously, she will regard weird landlords as the same as thieves and murderers.When she was finally willing to believe that Burnaby was not a corrupt criminal, she gave a hint.She was away last night, at the cinema between eight and eleven, then sat at a friend's house on Gray's Law School Road until nearly midnight.She could not think of anyone who might have used Burnaby's room; she had not even known, until this morning, that there had been a murder in the street.As for the other tenants, there are three in total: an American student and his wife live on the first floor, and a veterinary surgeon on the second floor.The three men were out before dark.

Summers, who had returned without success, had returned from Bloomsbury Square at this time, and took over the investigation; Hadley, Rosette and Burnaby returned to Grimaud's together. As for Dr. Phil, he has been insisting on looking for another landlady who is easy to communicate with, but he happened to meet a landlady who is as shy as gold. The location of house No. 2 is a building with a tobacco store and a house. Its appearance looks thin, like a half-faced prop house protruding from the side of the stage in a musical comedy set.It's just that they look shabby and shabby, with a dull paint color, and there is a musty and stale smell in a tobacco shop everywhere.Urged on by the jingle of bells, James Tubman was finally forced out.The tobacconist and newsagent emerged slowly from the shadows at the back of the shop.He was a small, shut-mouthed old man with huge brass knuckles and a black cotton overcoat; he walked among the mountains of second-rate novels and dried peppermints in the house, watching It is as dazzling as a coat of arms.His point of view on the whole case was: what's the matter with him?

The old man stared past them straight at the window—as if expecting someone to come in so he could find an excuse to cut off the conversation—and spat out a morbid answer.Yes, he had a lodger; yes, the lodger's name was Foyle, yes, a foreigner.Foyle rented the bedroom-sitting room on the top floor.He lived here for two weeks and the rent was paid in advance.No, the landlord didn't know anything about him, and didn't want to know, except that he never caused trouble and was used to muttering in foreign tongues; that's all.The landlord didn't know him at all, because they rarely met each other.There are no other tenants here because James Tubman doesn't supply hot water to those upstairs.Why did Foyle choose to live on the top floor?How would he know, they'd better ask Foyle himself.

Didn't he know Foyle was dead?Yes, he knew: a policeman had come here already, asked stupid questions, and took him to identify the body; that was none of his business!What did he think about the shooting at 10:25 last night?James Tubman looked as if he was about to say something, but his jaw was clenched and his gaze was fixed even more firmly on the window.He was in the basement kitchen with the radio on, so he didn't know anything: even if he knew, he wouldn't go out and take a look. Has Frey ever had a visitor?No.Ever seen a suspicious looking stranger or someone meeting Foyle nearby?

The answer turned out to be surprising.The landlord's mouth was still wriggling like sleepwalking, but the chatterbox was almost opened up.Very well, the police should wake up and stop wasting taxpayers' money!He'd seen someone sneak around the place, look around, even talk to Foyle once, and then run off.A nasty looking guy, probably a criminal!He hates such sneaky people the most.No, he couldn't describe the man's face—that was the job of the police, and besides, it always happened at night. "Isn't there a single thing," Dr. Phil said, wiping his face with a large handkerchief, his tolerance almost at the limit. "You remember in particular? His clothes, or something, huh?"

"It seems," Duberman struggled silently while staring at the window, and finally gave in reluctantly, "he seems to be wearing a very fancy coat. It's the kind of light yellow tweed coat with many red spots on it. That may be it. That's a matter for you to find out for yourselves, not for me. Are you going upstairs? Here's the key. The door is outside." Although the appearance of this house is quite thin, when passing through the dark and narrow stairwell, Rimbaud unexpectedly found that its structure is quite solid.He said angrily: "You are right, sir, the whole case has been turned upside down. Indeed, the case is even more incomprehensible when it comes to those coats. We were looking for a villainous figure in a long black coat; now what?" , and another guy came running out in a bold tweed coat with blood on it too. Which one is that? Are those coats the key to the case?"

Dr. Phil struggled to climb up while panting. "Well, I don't think so," he said uncertainly, "though I did say that the whole case was turned around—or, perhaps I should say: We're going the wrong way. But in In a way, this case depends on the coat. Well, a guy with two coats. Yes, even if he doesn't have the same taste in clothes, I still think the two cases The murderer is the same person." "You just said that you already know the identity of the murderer?" "I know who he is!" Dr. Phil snarled. "You know why I have the urge to kick someone? Because he's always been in front of me, and he's been telling the truth the whole time, but I always No signs of it. He's been so honest and it hurts my heart to think that I never took him at his word and that he was innocent!"

"You mean the part of the disappearance technique?" "No, I don't know how he did it. We're on the top floor." There was only one room on the top floor of the house, and a dim light from a dirty skylight fell on the floor.The door was of green-painted plain wood; it was ajar, and when pushed it revealed a low cave-like room, the windows of which had evidently not been opened for some time.Fumbling around in the shadowy place for a while, Dr. Fell found a gas burner covering the tilting globe.Under the faint light, the doctor could tell that it was a tidy but very dirty room. There was an iron bed in the room, and the wallpaper on the wall was a pattern of blue roses.There is a can of ink bottle on the desk, and a note folded in half is pressed under the bottle.In the whole room, only one object retains the grotesque and absurd quality of Pierre Frey: the faded evening costume and top hat, standing by the writing desk, so that the viewer has the illusion of seeing Frey in person.Hanging above the mirror is a framed calligraphy, with black, red and gold foil mixed handwriting, and an old-fashioned adage written in a zigzag.The slender font with the scroll pattern reads: "This is my vengeance, saith God; I will punish." However, the mounting words are hung upside down.

In the silence, Dr. Phil angrily approached the desk slowly and picked up the folded note.Rimbaud took a closer look, and found that the handwriting was really flamboyant, but the few short lines had the posture of a declaration. Mr James: These few personal belongings of mine are all left to you to thank you for your hospitality this week.I no longer need them.I am about to return to my grave. Pierre Frey "Why," said Rimbaud, "'I'm going back to my tomb' is repeated over and over again? It sounds like it's supposed to mean something, even if it doesn't. . . I think it's probably true that Foyle This man, he exists; isn't someone pretending to be him?" Dr. Phil did not answer the question.From the moment the doctor crouched on the floor examining the gray ragged carpet, his mood sank into ebb and ebb. "No clue," he moaned, "not even a bus ticket or anything. Not a breath of wind, no sign of sweeping, nothing. What about his belongings? No, I don't care about his stuff." I'm not interested in the belongings. Sommers should have searched. Come on, let's go back and join Hadley." Walking all the way back to Russell Square, their mood was as gloomy and gloomy as the sky covered by dark clouds.By the time they climbed the front steps, Hadley had seen the old friend's return from the living room window, and had gone to open the door to greet him.After making sure the living room door was closed—there were murmurs and complaints from inside—Hadley watched them both from the dark, ornate hallway.The devil mask of a Japanese samurai behind him made his face very funny. "I see, things are getting more and more difficult," Dr. Phil said in a gentle voice, "Well, it's over, and I have nothing to report. I'm afraid I have to return empty-handed from this expedition. Fortunately, I My ambition was to be more than a great prophet. What happened?" "That coat——" Hadley paused for a while. His anger had reached the peak of saturation, and he turned the anger in his heart to vent it with a sneer. "Phil, let's talk first.Maybe you figured out what's going on.If it's Mangan who's lying, I don't see why he has any reason to lie.But that coat...we've checked it, it's a new coat, a brand new coat.There was nothing in the pocket, not even the grit, hair, and soot that would be left behind if you put it on.But what we have to face first is the problem of two coats.Perhaps you could call this case the Chameleon Coat Mystery..." "What happened to that coat?" "It changed color," Hadley said. Dr. Phil's eyes lit up, and he asked the criminal director again with renewed interest. "It never occurred to me," he said, "that this case would burn your brains out. Is that so? It's changed color, huh? The next thing you're going to say, it's now a shiny thing again. Emerald green coat?" "I said it changed color because...follow me!" When Hadley pushed open the door of the living room, the scene was shrouded in an atmosphere of chaos.In this living room, all the furniture is heavy and conservative in style, the lamps are inlaid on bronze products, the moldings along the wall and ceiling are covered with gold leaf, and the expensive curtains use excessive lace The trim looks like a frozen waterfall at first glance; every lamp in the room shines brightly.I saw Burnaby lazily leaning on the sofa; Rosette sprinting away in anger; Ernestine Dumer stood by the radio in the corner, with her hands behind her back, her lower lip covering her upper lip; her face I don't know whether it's amused, mocking, or both; the last one is Boyd Mangan, standing with his back to the fireplace, which is burning brightly, and he can't help moving from one side to the other. On the other side, it seemed that he was afraid that the flame would burn himself.However, what really burned him at this moment was actually some kind of excitement or some other emotion. "I know this damn thing fits me!" he said fiercely. "I know, I admit, this coat fits me well. But it's not mine! First of all, I'm used to wearing waterproof coats , it hangs in the corridor now. Besides, I can't afford such a coat at all; Twenty guineas (equivalent to twenty-one shillings in old English gold). The third—” Hadley clapped his hands loudly to attract everyone's attention.Dr. Phil and Rimbaud entered the room one after another. Their appearance eased Mangan's excitement. "May I trouble you," said Hadley, "to repeat what I just said?" Mangan lit a cigarette.Under the light of the spark from the matchstick, Mangan's gloomy eyes can be seen bloodshot.He threw away the matchstick, took a deep puff of the cigarette, and then exhaled the white smoke, with the expression of a hopeless criminal about to be sentenced to death. "I don't quite understand myself why everyone jumps out at me," he said. "It's probably another coat, though I don't know why anyone likes to throw clothes in here... Hey, Ted, I'll tell you what's going on." Mangan grabbed Rimbaud's arm and pulled him to the fireplace, as if arranging an exhibition. "I came in here for dinner last night, and as soon as I walked in, I hung my coat—a waterproof coat, mind you—in the hallway closet. Usually, no one bothers to turn on the lights. You'd Fumbled in the dark, and hung my coat on a hook I found. I did the same, but because I had a small bag of books in my hand and wanted to put them on the shelf, I turned on the light. Then I saw a coat, an extra coat, hanging in the corner at the other end. It was cut to the same size as the yellow tweed coat you found; is black." "An extra coat," Dr. Fell repeated.He touched his chin and stared at Mangan curiously, "Boy, why do you call it an 'extra coat'? If you saw a row of coats in someone's house, you would have an 'extra coat' Thoughts? In my experience, the least noticeable thing in a house is the clothes in the closet; you'll kind of know that one of them is yours, but sometimes you're not even sure which piece, isn't it?" "Whatever you say, I know everybody's coats here anyway. And," argued Mangan, "I'll pay special attention to that one because I guess it was Burnaby's. They didn't Tell me he's coming too, and I wonder if he..." Burnaby was tolerant of Mangan's suggestive accusations.At this moment, the man who had just slumped on the couch in the apartment on Cagliestre Street, the sensitive and irritable man, is gone now; now he has become an older madman. The proud young man is waving exaggerated gestures. "Mangan," he said, "is quite observant. Dr. Fell, he's a very observant young man. Hahaha! Especially when I'm around." "Do you have a problem with that?" Mangan retorted, trying to keep his voice down to keep calm. "Let him finish his story. Rosette, dear, would you like a cigarette? By the way, I must first declare that it is not my coat." Mangan was inexplicably furious.But then he turned back to Dr. Fell. "Anyway, I noticed. And then this morning, when Burnaby arrived here, he found that coat with a bloodstained lining ... lighter in color, but hanging in the same place. I also know that the only The explanation is: There are two coats. However, this situation is really weird enough? I dare say that the coat last night does not belong to anyone here. And you can see that this tweed coat is not Ours. Did the murderer wear one, two, or neither? Also, that black overcoat looks weird—” "Weird?" Dr. Fell interrupted abruptly, so Mangan turned around unconsciously. "How do you say it's weird?" At this moment, Ernestine Dumo, who was standing by the radio, suddenly stepped forward, her flat shoes creaking.Her appearance this morning looks a little older; her protruding cheekbones are more prominent, the bridge of her nose has collapsed in contrast, and the circles around her eyes are also swollen, and they look half-closed and furtive.Even so, besides the stubborn eyes, her black pupils are still very shining and intimidating. "Hmph, bah!" Her mouth was merciless, and her gesture of waving her hands was exaggerated and rude, "Why do you ask such a stupid question again? Why don't you ask me? I know this kind of question much better than him. Don't you?" ?” She stared at Mangan, brow furrowed. “Don’t get me wrong, don’t get me wrong, I really think you’re trying hard to tell the truth, and you should know that. But I think you’re confusing the facts a bit. The reality is simple, As Dr. Phil said. Yes, there was a yellow coat here last night, in the evening, probably before dinner. It was hanging neatly on a hook in the closet, where Mangan said he Where I saw the black coat. I saw it with my own eyes." "But—" cried Mangan. "Don't get excited, don't get excited," said Dr. Fell in a low, soothing voice, "and we'll see if it's that hard to sort out. Now that you've seen that coat yourself, madam, didn't you Don't you think it's strange? There's always a little wonder, because you know it doesn't belong to anyone in the house." "No. Not at all." She nodded at Mangan. "I wasn't there when he arrived. So, I thought the coat was his." "Who opened the door to let you in, may I ask?" Dr. Phil asked wearily. "Anne. But I hung up the coat myself. I swear to God!" "Hadley, if Anne's here, you'd better answer the bell and get her," said Dr. Fell. "This chameleon coat problem piqued my curiosity. It's fascinated! Hey ma'am, I'm not doubting your story about our friend Mangan. I just told Ted Rimbaud a while ago that So-and-so was just too honest. Ha! You Have you talked to Anne?" "Oh, yes," replied Hadley, as Rosette Grimaud passed him to ring. "Her explanation is very simple. She went out last night and didn't come back until after twelve o'clock. However, I didn't ask her about Mangan." "I don't understand, why are you making such a fuss!" Rosette's voice was quite dissatisfied, "What's the use of doing this? You have no other meaningful things to do except ask the stupid thing about whether the coat is black or yellow." Do it?" Mangan turned to her. "Of course it was very useful, and you know it yourself. I didn't understand the situation, but I don't think she knew where it was going! But there's always someone who is right. Although I guess Anne didn't know it either. Good God! I simply don't know anything!" "Well said," said Burnaby. "Do me a favor," Mangan scolded, "Go to hell, you!" Hadley hastily straddled the two of them, mediating the dispute in a friendly voice.Burnaby, whose face was already pale with anger, had no choice but to sit back on the sofa.The turmoil and tense tension in the living room saw each other, and when Annie appeared, everyone looked eager for peace.Annie has a calm demeanor and a slightly long nose. She looks like a very self-disciplined girl, and she can't find any absurd and stupid qualities in her.She seems capable and hardworking.She stood stooped in the doorway, her cap on her head securely, as if glued on.Her brown eyes were level with Hadley, and her expression was a little irritable, but not timid. "About last night, there's something I forgot to ask you. It's...uh," the chief criminal said in an uneasy tone, "Well, you opened the door to let Mr. Mangan come over, didn't you?" "Yes, sir." "What time was it then?" "Sir, I can't answer." She seemed confused. "About half an hour before dinner. I can't tell the exact time." "Did you see him hang up his hat and coat?" "Yes, sir! He never gave them to me to deal with, or I would have—" "Then have you seen what it looks like in the closet?" "Oh, I see . . . yes, sir, I see. Well, I let him in, and I walked straight back into the dining room, but then it occurred to me that I had to go downstairs to the kitchen. So I turned Came back and went through the lobby corridor. At this point I realized he was gone and the light in the closet was still on, so I went over and turned it off..." Hadley leaned forward. "Listen now! You know the light tweed coat you found in the closet this morning? You know that? Good! You remember where it hangs?" "Yes, sir, I do." Her lips were pressed together. "I was in the corridor this morning when Mr Burnaby found it and it wasn't long before other people approached. Mr Mills said we can't touch it, like blood and all, don't touch anything, Because the police..." "That's right. Anne, what I wanted to ask was about the color of that coat. When you looked in the closet last night, was that coat yellow or black? Do you remember?" Her eyes were fixed on him. "Yes, sir, I remember—yellow or black? Is that what you say, sir? Well, sir, neither is strictly speaking. Because there's no overcoat hanging on that hook at all." All of a sudden, noises came and went, and the whole room became noisy: Mangan cursed, Rosette laughed hysterically, and Burnaby was overjoyed.Only Ernestine Dumo remained silent, looking tired and contemptuous.Hadley looked at Annie for a full minute, and the witness's expression was focused and ready: her fists were clenched, her neck held high.Hadley moved toward the window, roughly but without saying a word. At this moment, Dr. Phil laughed softly. "Hey, don't get discouraged," he tried to cheer up, "at least it didn't turn another color. Even the chair might laugh at me, but I'm sure it's a very revealing fact. Well, Ha, that's right. Come on, Hadley, what we need now is a lunch. Lunch!"