Chapter 57 Chapter fifty-six

Towards evening, Mr. Gumb started to start. With frightening tears in his eyes, he watched the video over and over again.On the small screen, I saw my mother climbed up the water slide, slid into the pool with a slap, and slid into the pool with a slap.Tears blurred Jaime Garm's vision, as if he himself had fallen into the pool. There was a bottle of hot water on his stomach, and it was purring; when the puppy was lying on him, her stomach was purring like this. He couldn't take it any longer—the guy in the basement was holding his baby, threatening her safety.Baby is suffering and he knows she is suffering.He wasn't sure he'd be able to kill that thing before it mortally wounded the baby, but he'd have to try.Try it now.

He took off his clothes and put on his nightgown—he was always naked after each skin, bloody as a newborn baby. From his huge medicine cabinet he fetched the ointment he had put on the baby before when she had been scratched by a cat.He also pulled out some small band-aids, Q-brand cotton swabs for medicated applications, and the plastic the veterinarian gave him to keep dogs from gnawing on the sores with their teeth. 'Elizabeth Collar'.There's also a tongue depressor in the basement for splinting her broken calf.If the idiot twisted his body violently and scratched the baby before he died, then there is still a tube of "Shangqing" to relieve the pain.

A careful shot to the head sacrifices nothing but hair.To him, baby is more precious than that hair.Hair was a sacrifice, a gift to her safety. Now go quietly down the stairs to the kitchen.Take off your slippers, go down the dark basement stairs, and walk close to the wall so that the stairs don't make any creaking noises. He didn't turn on the light.In this familiar darkness, he groped forward, groping the changing ground under his feet.At the bottom of the stairs, he turned right into the studio. One of his sleeves brushed against the cage, and he heard the soft, angry chirp of a young moth.The cupboard is here.He found the infrared light and quickly slipped the goggles back on.At this time, the whole world was shining with green light.He stood for a moment, listening to the comforting bubbling of the water tank and the warm hiss of the steam pipe.He, the master of darkness, the queen of darkness.

Moths flying freely in the air flew past his field of vision, dragging out green fluorescent lights on their tails; they flapped their furry wings and swept across the darkness, and their faint breath gently brushed over his face. He examined the leather gun.The gun was loaded with . 38 Special Blowbow, and the bullet went into the skull--exploded and killed instantly, if the guy was standing there when he fired it, if he shot it down on the top of her head. Go in; the bullet is unlikely to go through the jaw and blow the chest open like a high-dose magnum does. Quietly, quietly, he bent his knees and tiptoed forward, his nail-painted toes tightly gripping the old wooden boards under his feet.There was no sound of stepping on the sandy ground of the dungeon.Quietly, but not too slowly.He didn't want his own body odor to spread to that puppy's nose soon.

The top of the dungeon seemed to glow green; the stones and their mortar were clear to him, and the veins in the wooden coverings were clear.Hold the light and lean down to look down.There they are!The thing lay on its side like a giant shrimp.Maybe fell asleep.Baby curled up against the guy's body, must be sleeping.Ouqiu please don't die! The head is exposed.It was tempting to shoot a gun in the neck—and save the hair.too risky. Mr. Gumm bent over the hole, and the two lens tubes protruding like handles from his goggles looked down carefully.The muzzle of the Pitong gun is heavy, feels good in the hand, and has excellent aiming performance.It had to be held with an infrared beam, and he focused his vision on the side of the head where the wet hair was against the sunshade.

Whether it was the sound or the smell, he couldn't figure it out--but the baby woke up.Barking, jumping straight up in the dark, Kathleen Baker-Martin arched with the pup in the middle, pulling the futon over her and the dog.There were only a few lumps moving under the futon, and he couldn't tell which was the dog and which was Catherine.Looking down in infrared, his sense of depth was impaired, and he couldn't figure out which blob was Catherine. But he saw the baby beating.He knew her leg was all right, so he knew something else at once: Catherine Baker being a horse couldn't hurt the dog any more than he could hurt the dog.Oh, what a sweet relief!Because they felt the same way about dogs, he could shoot her damn legs and knock the mother's head off when she held them tight.There is no need to be careful.

He turned on the lights, all the goddamn lights in the basement, went to the storage room and fetched the floodlight.He's in control, his head is very clear - he remembers to put a little water in the sink when he walks through the studio, so there won't be any clots in the trap under the sink when the time comes. Just as he was hurrying up the stairs with the floodlight to go, the doorbell rang. The doorbell screeched harshly, and he had to stop, thinking, what's going on?He hadn't heard the doorbell ring in years, didn't even know if it still worked.The doorbell, which had been set up on the stairs so that it could be heard from upstairs to downstairs, was buzzing now from the dusty bulge of black metal.He looked at it, and it rang again, incessantly, and dust flew from above.Someone was at the front door, pressing that old button marked "Gatekeeper."

They will leave. He hastily installed the floodlights. They didn't leave. Down the well, the guy said something, but he ignored it.The doorbell beeped so harshly that they literally leaned on the button. Better to go upstairs and peek out the front door.The barrel of the Pitong gun was too long to fit in the pocket of his nightgown, so he put it on the table in the studio. He had just climbed halfway up the stairs when the doorbell suddenly stopped ringing again.He stopped in the middle and waited for a moment.There is no sound.He decided to take a look anyway, and just as he was passing through the kitchen he was startled by a loud knock on the back door.In the pantry near the back door was a slow-moving repeating gun, which he knew was loaded.

The door to the basement stairs was closed, and the thing was roaring down there, no one could hear him as loud as he could, he was sure of that. It was knocking on the door again.He opened the door a crack and kept the chain on the lock. "I tried to call the front door but no one came," Clarice-Starling said. "I'm looking for Mrs. Lippmann's family, could you do me a favor?" "They don't live here," said M. Gumb, and closed the door.As he walked up the stairs again, the banging on the door began again, this time louder than before. He opened the door on the chain.

The young woman held up an ID card against the door, which said the FBI. "I'm sorry, but I want to talk to you. I want Mrs. Lippmann's family. I know she used to live here. I want your help." "Mrs. Lippmann has been dead for hundreds of years. I don't know any of her relatives." "Where's the lawyer or the accountant? Who keeps the records of her business? Do you know Mrs. Lippmann?" "Just a little acquaintance. What's the matter?" "I'm investigating the death of Frederica Baimer. Who are you?" "Jack Gordon."

"Frederica Bemer was working for Mrs. Lippmann. Did you know that she took risks?" "I don't know. Is it a big fat man? I may have seen it, I can't tell. I didn't mean to be rude just now-I was sleeping... Mrs. Lippmann has a lawyer, I may have him somewhere As for the business card, I'll see if I can find it. Can you come in, please? I'm freezing to death, and my cat will be out of here in a blink of an eye, and before I can catch her, she'll go outside like a bullet." He went to a roll-top table in the far corner of the kitchen, lifted the cover, and searched among the letter compartments inside.Starling stepped through the door and pulled out a notebook from her bag. "That's a horrible thing!" he said, rummaging in the table. "I shudder every time I think of it. Don't you think they're on the verge of getting somebody?" "Not yet, but we're working on it. Mr. Gordon, did you take over the place when Mrs. Lipman died?" "Yes." Gumm leaned over the table, his back to Starling.He opened a drawer and rummaged around in it. "Are there any records left here? Business records?" "No, nothing. Did the FBI count? The cops here don't seem to know the basics. Did they get any profiling or fingerprints?" From the back of Mr. Gumb's nightgown, a dead moth crawled out.It stopped in the middle of his back, about where his heart was, and straightened its wings. Starling threw the notebook into her bag. Mister Gumm!Thank God my coat is unbuttoned.Tell him I'm going out and I'll make a phone call.no.He knew I was with the FBI and would kill her as soon as he got out of my sight.He would hit her kidneys.They found him and jumped on him, using his phone.Did not see a phone call.The phone is not here, ask him for it.Get in touch first, and then pounce on him.Put him on his face and wait for the police to come.That's it, let's do it.He is turning around. "Here's the number," he said. He took a corporate card. Pick up?No. "Very well, thank you. Mr. Gordon, do you have a phone I can borrow?" When he put the card on the table, the moth flew up.It flew out from behind him, flew over his head, and rested on a wall cabinet above the sink between them. He looks at the moth.She didn't look at the moth, and while neither of her eyes left his face for a moment, he knew it. Their eyes met, and they understood each other's hearts. Mister Gumm tilted his head slightly to one side.He smiled. "I've got a cordless phone in the pantry, I'll get it for you." No!Let's do it!She goes to draw the gun.She did this movement very smoothly, and she has practiced it four thousand times.The gun was in the intended position.Holding the gun well with both hands, her world at this time is what she sees in front of her eyes, which is the very center of his chest. "Don't move!" He pursed his lips. "Okay. Slowly. Hands up!" Take him outside with the table between me and him.Push him forward.Let him lie face down in the middle of the road and show his ID to passers-by. "Mr. Gumm, you're under arrest. I want you to walk outside slowly." He didn't do what he was told, he just walked out of the house.If he was reaching into his pocket, behind his back, if she saw the weapon, then she fired.He just walked out of the room. She heard him rush down the basement stairs, and she sprinted around the desk to the door at the top of the stairwell.The others were gone, and the stairwell was brightly lit but empty.trap.This staircase is going to be an easy target. Then came a scream from the basement, as faint as a thin sheet of paper. She didn't like the stairs, she didn't like the stairs, and Clarice Starling was in a pinch, something to do now or wait. Catherine Martin was screaming again, and he was killing her, so Starling went downstairs recklessly; she held onto the banister with one hand, the barrel of the gun sticking out, the gun just under her sight, the sight in the sight. Going out, the ground below bounced and shook; at the bottom of the stairs, there were two doors open facing each other, and she tried to aim at the two doors, but the barrel of the gun swayed with her head. The light in the basement was blinding, and she had to go through one door with her back to the other, so hurry, hurry to the left in the direction of the screaming.She jumped over the door frame, her eyes wider than ever, into the dungeon in the sand.The only place to hide was behind the well, and she circled sideways along the wall, holding the gun with both hands, arms straight out, pressed the trigger slightly, and continued around to the well.There was no one behind the well. A small cry rose from the well, as light as a thin wisp of smoke.It was barking again. It was a dog. She approached the well, her eyes still fixed on the door.Seeing the girl, she raised her head again, then lowered her head again, and said the words she learned to appease the hostages during her training: "I'm from the FBI, you're safe." "Safe shit! He's got a gun. Get me out! Get me out!" "Catherine, you'll be all right, shut up! Do you know where he is?" "Get me out, I don't give a fuck where he is. Get me out!" "I'll get you out. Be quiet! Help! Be quiet so I can hear. Try to shut that dog up too!" She steadied herself behind the well, her gun aimed at the door, her heart pounding, her breath blowing the dust off the stones, and she couldn't leave Catherine Martin without knowing where Gumm was. call for help.She moved over to the door, dodging behind the door frame and using it as cover.She could see across the foot of the stairs and part of the studio in the distance. Either to find Gumm, or to confirm that he has escaped, and then to rescue Catherine. She took it away, and the only options were these few. She turned her head to the dungeon and asked a quick look around. "Catherine, Catherine, is there a ladder?" "I don't know, I was down here when I woke up. He lowered the bucket on a rope." There was a small hand crank fastened to a beam, with no cord attached to the reel of the crank. "Catherine, I have to find something to get you out, can you go?" "Can go. Don't leave me!" "I have to get out of this house, just for a moment." "Damn you bitch don't leave me here, my mother will tear your shitty head out—" "Catherine, shut up! I want you to be quiet so I can hear. To save your own life, be quiet, you understand?" Then he raised his voice, "Other officers will be here at any moment, now you shut up Catch up. We're not going to drop you down there." He must have a rope, where is it?go find it. Starling sprinted down the stairwell to the door of the studio; the door was the worst place to be, dodge; she darted back and forth along the wall next to the door until she had the whole room in view; The human body was immersed in the glass water tank, and she was not frightened because she was in a state of extreme vigilance.She walked quickly through the room, past the water tank, the sink; passing the cage, a few big moths flew up, but she didn't care about it. A little closer to the distant corridor, the corridor is brightly lit.The refrigerator behind her was running, and she turned and squatted down, the hammer was pulled away from the barrel of the Magnum pistol to shoot, and then let go.Go ahead and go up the hallway.No one taught her how to snoop.Pay attention to the head and the gun at the same time, but don't raise it.The hallway was empty.At the end of the corridor is the sewing room, also brightly lit.Quickly walk down the corridor, risking past the closed door to the door of the sewing room, which is all white and light-colored oak furniture.Go through the doorway to hell with it!Make sure that every mannequin is just a mannequin, and every shadow reflected is just the shadow of the mannequin. If anything moves in the mirror, it is only you! The wardrobe stood there, open and empty.The far door opened into darkness, and beyond that was the basement.There are no ropes anywhere, no ladders.There was no light over there in the sewing room.She closed the door to the unlit part of the basement, pushed a chair under the doorknob, and pushed a sewing machine on top.If she could be sure someone wasn't in that part of the basement, she'd risk going upstairs for a while to find a phone. Going back along the corridor, there was a door she just passed through.on the side opposite the hinge.Open wide with one move.The door slammed back and there was no one behind it.It is a question; there are ropes, hooks and a hanging net inside the bathroom.Save Catherine or call?As long as there is no accident, Catherine will not be shot to death staying at the bottom of the well, but if Starling is killed, Catherine will also die.Take Catherine to find the phone. Starling didn't want to be in the bathroom for long.He might come to the door and shoot her head and head.She looked both ways, then dodged into the bathroom to get the rope.There is a big bathtub in the room.The tub was almost full of hardened purple-red plaster of paris.A hand and wrist protruded upward from the cast. The hand was black and shriveled, the nails were painted with pink nail polish, and there was a small and exquisite watch on the wrist.Starling's eyes scanned everything at once: the rope, the bathtub, the watch. The second hand on the watch was a crawling insect, and that was the last thing she saw before the lights went out. Her heart was pounding so hard that her chest and arms trembled.It's so dark and dizzy, I have to touch something in my hand, the edge of the bathtub or something.bathroom.To get out of the bathroom.If he finds the door, he'll shoot the bathroom with nowhere to hide.Oh gosh get out!He lowered his body and went to the hall.Is every light off?Every light went out.He must have turned off the light at the fuse box and pulled the brake, where is it?Where would the fuse box be?Near the stairs.Most are near the stairs.If that's the case, then he's coming from that direction.But he was still between me and Catherine. Catherine Martin was whining again. Wait here?Wait forever?Maybe he's gone.He couldn't be sure no backup would arrive.No, he was sure.But in this case they will soon find out that I am missing.That is tonight.The stairs were in the direction of the screaming.Things have to be sorted out now. She moved quietly, her shoulders barely touched the wall, and when she touched it was very light, she was afraid of making a sound: one hand was stretched out in front of her; the end of the gun was at waist height, clinging to her body; walking in the narrow aisle inside.Now out of the aisle and into the studio.Feel the space gradually opening up.Wide open room.Bending knees in an open room, arms outstretched, guns in both hands.You know exactly where the gun is, just below eye level.Stop and listen.The head, body, and arms rotate together like a turret for a television camera.Stop and listen. In utter darkness, the only sound was the hiss of the steam pipes and the ticking of small jets of water. The strong smell of goat was in her nostrils. Catherine was whining. Monsieur Gaum stood against the wall with goggles on.There's no danger she won't run headfirst into him--" There was an utensil table between them. He shone his infrared light up and down her body. She was too slender, yes He has no use for it. But he still remembers her hair in the kitchen just now, it was very beautiful, and it only takes a minute to get this hair, he can pull it off, put it on his head, and wear it to bend down He got down and said to the guy in the well, "I didn't expect that! " It was fun watching her figure out a way to tiptoe forward.Now her ass was against the sink, she was moving slowly in the direction of the scream, the gun extended forward.slowly.It would be fun to spend a long time hunting her down--he'd never hunted one with a weapon before!He can thoroughly enjoy it.Then there is no time for that.pity. He was a good shot in the face, eight feet away with no trouble.Let's do it now. He pulled the trigger of the leather gun, and raised the gun with a click.The figure was blurred, and in his vision, the figure flickered with green light.His gun jerked in his hand and his back hit the floor hard; his infrared light was on and he was looking at the ceiling.Starling was lying on her stomach; bright lights, ears roaring, gunshots were loud and deafening, she was manipulating in the dark, neither of them could hear the other; Feel to see if it is all upside down, quickly load the bullets with the quick loader, touch it, pull it down, twist it, and swing it, and close the rotating chamber.She fired four shots.Two shots, then two more shots.He fired a shot.She touched the two intact bullet casings that had just been poured out.Where to put it?Put it in the magazine of the quickloader.She lay motionless, and moved while he couldn't hear? The sound of a revolver being cocked is distinctive.She was shooting in the direction of the sound just now, but the muzzles of the two guns were shining brightly, and she couldn't see anything.She wished he'd shot in the wrong direction now, the muzzle light flashed and she had the direction to shoot.Her hearing is gradually recovering. Although her ears are still buzzing, she can already hear the sound. What is that sound?Like blowing a whistle?It's like a teapot making tea, but it's broken again.what is it then?Like breathing, is it me?No.Her breath hit the floor, warm, and returned to her face.Be careful, don't breathe the dust, don't sneeze.It's the sound of breathing.It was the sound of gasping after the chest was injured.He was shot in the chest.They had taught her how to seal and protect a chest wound: put something over it, an oilskin, a plastic bag, something airtight, bandage it tight, and then inflate her lungs.So she hit him in the chest.What next?Wait.Let him bleed and freeze.Wait. Starling felt a tingle in one cheek.She didn't touch it, not wanting to get her hand sticky if her cheek was bleeding. Again came the whimpering from the well, Catherine was talking, crying.Starling could only wait, she could not answer Catherine.She couldn't say anything, she couldn't move. Mr. Gumm's invisible infrared light hit the ceiling.He tried to move it, but couldn't, like he couldn't move his head.A very large Malayan luna moth, flying close under the ceiling, stumbled upon the infrared light, flew down, circled, and finally landed on the lamp.The moth's wings flapped and closed, casting a huge shadow on the ceiling, which only Mr. Gumb could see. In the darkness, Starling heard Mr. Gumb's terrifying voice overwhelmed his gasping, and said as if he was about to die: "If I could... be so beautiful... what would it be... how would it feel...?" Then came another voice.Gurr, grunt, and then the whistling sound stopped. Starling was also familiar with that voice.She'd heard it once before, in the hospital, when her father died. She touched the edge of the table, stood up, and groped forward, toward the direction from which Catherine's voice had come.She found the stairwell and climbed the stairs in the dark. It seems to have taken a long time to walk this route.There is a candle in a drawer in the kitchen.She found the fuse box by the side of the stairs with a candle, and she jumped when the lights came on.To run to this fuse box and turn off the light, he must have taken the other way out of the basement and followed her down again. Starling had to be sure he was dead, and she waited until her eyes had fully adjusted to the light before returning to the studio, paying close attention.She saw his bare feet and legs poking out from under the workbench.She kept her eyes on the hand next to the gun, and finally kicked the gun away.His eyes were open, and he was dead, punctured on the right side of his chest, with a thick pool of blood beneath him.He had already put on a few things from the big wardrobe, so she couldn't stare at him for a long time. She walked to the sink, put the Magnum on the drip board, ran cold water to rinse her wrists, and wiped her face with wet hands.no blood.Moths swarmed around the light and onto the grille.She had to step around the body to bring back the leather pistol. At the well she said, "Catherine, he's dead, he can't hurt you. I'll go upstairs and call—" "No! Get me out! Get me out! Get me out!" "Listen, he's dead. Here's his gun, remember? I'm going to call the police and the fire brigade. I'm afraid I'll hang you out myself and you might fall. As soon as I'm done calling them Just go back down and wait with you. Okay? Okay. Find a way to keep that dog from barking. Okay? Okay." No sooner had the fire brigade arrived than the local TV crew arrived, before the Belvedere police.The chief of the fire brigade was very annoyed by the flickering lights. He drove the TV crew up the stairs and out of the basement. Hooks on joists.A firefighter went down the well and put her in a rescue chair.Catherine came out holding the dog, and kept holding the dog in the ambulance. At the hospital, they pulled up wires to stop the dogs from entering.A firefighter was instructed to take the dog to an animal shelter, but he took the dog home.