Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty-Five

As Kay was loading minced meat and potatoes on a plate, the doorbell buzzed, startling her.John is waiting for his friend Robbie.Robbie always looked guilty, like one of those little boys who often—and probably at odd times—masturbate.John had told Kyrobby three times that he was coming over tonight to do homework, so Kay knew they weren't planning to do homework at all.Also, as long as they were hanging around the house, she would keep pushing open the bedroom door and walking right in.Robbie's older brother was also booked for fighting.What an annoying family. The doorbell rang again, and she called out, "John!"

John came out of the bedroom, looking suspicious, and saw his mother holding a large pot of minced meat and preparing to plate it. "Doorbell, probably Robbie." John picked up the receiver and turned away, "Who?" Kay felt that the people outside seemed to be speaking for a long time, so it was unlikely that it was Robbie who was silent, but it could also be that Robbie was stating the reason why he couldn't come up.John pressed the button on the first-floor door and hung up the receiver. "Is he not coming?" "Ok?" "Is Robbie up?" she said slowly. "Would he like some tea?"

John seemed vague, "No, it's the police." "Police? Here again,?" "Want to talk to you." He tucked the hem of his T-shirt into his jeans and walked away. Kay hastened, quickly ladle the minced meat into five plates, and scooped up the boiled potatoes and beans, and was squeezing tomato sauce into four plates when there was a knock on the glass panel of the front door. She walked into the foyer, knocked on Mary's door quickly and hard, and pushed it away angrily, "Hey!" Behind the mottled glass panels were two distorted faces, neither of which looked like Alex.The shorter one, with neat hair, was looking out into the hallway, while the other stared straight into the glass, as if he could see what was going on in the room.

"Tea's ready," Kay called, walking up and down the hall and looking at the front door. "No ketchup." "I do not want--" "Don't make trouble for me, Mary." She pushed open Joe and Frank's door before she could knock. "Tea is ready." She heard the commotion as they got out of bed.She pushed open John's door and yelled through the high pitch of the stereo, "Mince!" The police could see her moving around the house, and the short man held up a hand for another knock when Kay opened it. "Who are you?" she asked.

A man and a woman stood outside the door.The man had a small mouth out of proportion to the shape of his face, and black hair as hard as wire; the woman was the one she had seen the first day at Mrs. Tyrine's, small, dark, with a large hooked nose, But standing in front of Kay's house, the policewoman looked different, with a familiarity, like the kind of woman who might be a friend. They introduce themselves—Harris and Leonard.Leonard smiled and stretched out his nimble little hand, asking if they could come in and talk to her about Sarah Errol. Kay sighed and continued to hold the door so her arms would keep the visitor out of the foyer.She turned and called out to the children angrily, "Tea is ready!"

Joe responded that he was coming, and Mary came to the bedroom door and looked out, seeming a little annoyed.Kay pointed to the kitchen and said to her, "There's your dinner, it's getting cold." Mary sneered at her mother, "I'm not hungry." Joe and Frank trotted out of the room, nodding to the two policemen, and John came out, oblivious to the visitor, with his head bowed and the brim of his hat covering his face. "Well, Mary, there's nothing to eat later," Kay said, annoyed inappropriately because she was embarrassed by Mary's rudeness to her, "don't think you can eat junk food all night by skipping dinner. "

Mary turned and slammed the door, which bounced back with too much force, exposing her like a magician's assistant.Angrily, she closed the door again with both hands.Joe and Frank Jr. came out of the kitchen with their dinner plates, smiling cheerfully at Kay. Kay's anger dies suddenly, as it does at the end of the day, and she turns to face the police— "Thanks, Mom," Joe called from behind her.She felt a little comfort, and her heart softened. She leaned against the door, "What do you want to know?" Harris made a gesture of chopping wood towards the living room, "We want to go in and talk about it."

Kai sucked his teeth, a little reluctantly.It was her time, really her own time, where she just ironed, smoked, watched TV, and popped into John's room every time she went to the bathroom. But they are the police.She took a few steps back and waved them to the living room.She let them in by themselves, and she went into the kitchen, picked up the dinner plate, and carried it into the living room.She thought to herself that it was impossible, absolutely impossible, to let her dinner cool down in order to make them tea! Leonard sat in an armchair, with Kay's drink, cigarettes, and lighter beside him.

"This is my seat." Leonard looked at Harris for instructions, and he nodded slightly, meaning she could move somewhere.Kay thought they were more annoying than those annoying children.Leonard carefully walked around the ubiquitous ironing board and sat down on the couch, while Kay sat in the armchair with dishes on his lap. The ironing board was right between them, so Kay stretched out a foot and pushed it towards the TV, careful not to knock it over, with the ashtray and a half-ironed shirt still on it .The soap opera "Holy Oaks Boys" has just begun. She cut a boiled potato in half and looked at Harris, "What is it?"

Harris moved from the sunken sofa in the middle and sat forward, "Well, Miss Murray, you know that Sarah Errol was killed..." He went on, but Kay found her attention completely on the TV, her mind wandering, speculating on the plot of Hollyoaks, analyzing the characters, what was going to happen next. "Can you turn off the TV?" Kay looked at Leonard. "The remote is on the ironing board." Leonard stood up, found the remote control, and turned off the TV.She stood there for a while. Noticing that no one seemed too happy, Harris took a breath and continued, "Why didn't you go to Glenawah today?"

She was supposed to go, she promised to go today, but she couldn't face Alex.She was still angry with Moreau for coming to her house alone.She knew Alex would not like this place, her home, and the fact that she was still smoking. She popped the potato into her mouth and shrugged, "Should I go?" "Yes, you should. You said you would go over and tell us if there was anything missing. You told Inspector Alex Morrow that you would come, and Inspector Wilder We're here, we've been waiting for you." Kai forked a piece of minced meat, dipped it in some ketchup, put it in his mouth, and looked at the two of them while chewing.They sent two policemen over to reprimand her for not actively assisting.She raised her eyebrows and challenged, "I'm so busy that the day goes by before I know it, what do you want me to say?" Her eyes swept over the two of them one by one, "You came here to ask me Apologize?" Harris didn't answer. He reached into his briefcase and took out a pen and clipboard, and Kay watched him as he ate.It was the same clipboard they used to fill in at Mrs. Tyrine's house.It must have been a standard set of forms that they asked everyone interviewed to fill out. "Can you tell me your full name?" "Kay Angela Murray." "marital status?" Kay looked down at the plate, "Unmarried." He filled in some without asking - Kay could see him fill in the address and guess her age was between 45 and 60.In fact, she is only 38 years old. "Have you always been alone?" Leonard smiled, not unfriendly, but with pity. "What do you mean?" "Children..." Leonard looked a little sad. Kay stared at her. "I wouldn't get pregnant myself if that's what you're asking." Leonard smiled dutifully, "It must be difficult..." Kay hates answering that question, she hates people assuming that she has a hard life and an unhappy life.Why?Is it just because she doesn't have a husband who grabs the remote with her and yells at her?But she didn't say anything. Harris asked for her cell phone number, her date of birth, and Kay saw him correct her approximate age based on her date of birth. "Are they all your children?" He nodded toward the bedroom. Kay snorted, still stinging from the humiliation he received in the hall, "You don't think someone else's kid would dare talk to me like that?" "No, I mean, none of them were adopted or anything?" "No." "That Mary, she...?" "13, youngest," she said, as he wrote, "then John, 14, and Frank and Joe, 15 and 16." "Quite dense." Leonard nodded sympathetically. Kay continued to eat, "Do you have any children?" Leonard shook his head.She's in her early 30s, which Kay thinks is the age to panic. "You don't know what you're missing," Kay said. This sentence only works for people without children.Harris definitely has kids, and he looks skeptical, "Aren't you with their father?" "No." "Have you been in touch with him?" "No." He looked her in the eyes, trying to get her to admit that the children had more than one father, but it was impossible.It's none of his business at all.It was Sarah Errol who died, not her. "Miss Murray, we're investigating Sarah's murder, and you know, all the nurses we've investigated say you're in charge of Glenawah's staff." "So what?" "How is this going?" He spoke as if she had some dark secret. "What do you mean?" "Let's put it this way," he smiled, "are you qualified?" Kay licked the sour ketchup on the edge of his lips. "No, Sarah and I get along very well. She trusts me to take care of her mother when she is not at home. Me and Mrs. Errol: we hit it off very well. " "Has Sarah ever told you what she does for a living?" Kay shrugged. She hadn't really thought about it. She thought it must be some kind of technical job that she didn't understand, so she didn't ask. "Sarah never told me." He stared at her face to see if she was telling the truth.She felt it was an insult.He went on: "In the kitchen, Sarah's kitchen, that table..." They looked at each other, and he seemed to be waiting for an answer. "Is this a problem?" "Have you noticed anything strange?" She thought hard, "Can't get it clean? There are some stains, are you asking me that?" "Have you ever mopped the kitchen floor?" "sometimes." "What's under the table?" She was really confused, "Well, I haven't climbed under the table, but if I had to, I'd mop it under. Is there a floor door or something?" He didn't answer. "The dresser in the hall is missing—" "Sarah sold it." He made a note of this. "At Christie's, I think it's Christie's, that's the name painted on the van and it took four people to bring it up." "Did she sell a lot of things in the house?" "You've heard the gossip in the village, haven't you? They're mad that she's selling things as if the house belonged to them, but do you know how much it costs to care for a dear old man at home? Very A lot of money." "She has sold a lot of things in the house?" "Yes, she was leaving there anyway. Shortly after her mother died, she was going to live in New York and said I could come and see her in New York." He seemed surprised, "Are you so close to Sarah?" She was annoyed at his surprise, "A little bit." "What kind of person is Sarah, in your opinion?" Kay shrugged. "Be nice to her mother." "Is she kind?" Kay thought about it for the first time and hesitated, "Sarah spent all her savings to take care of her mother." Harris prompts: "Is she smart? Is she frustrated with her mother? Is she lonely?" "I don't know," said Kay, who didn't have time to read other people's minds, "I accept that everyone is different. I like being with her. She's a quiet person. We only talk about Joey. What Joey ate ,When will you sleep." "You must be satisfied with the wages there, right?" "Of course, but everything I do is not all about money, Mrs. Errol and I..." Kay flipped through the food on the plate, "She is my best friend." "Isn't she confused?" "Oh, yes." Kay felt a tingling sense of loss again, "but when you become confused, a lot of the garbage that was on you also cleared up, including all the things you said about how great you are. Or the story of where you've been, she doesn't remember those things anymore, she's just who she is, and she's lovely the way she is." Kay looked at the half-eaten food on her plate and thought of Joey as her throat tightened and she couldn't swallow.She puts the plate on the chair and grabs the drink.The doorbell rang in the hall, and she heard John's light footsteps.John picked up the receiver, snickered a bit, and pressed the button, which opened the downstairs door. "Well," Harris said, looking at the form, "one or two of the nurses we surveyed said you fired them." "Who? Anne-Marie and the other, the little girl?" He was expressionless and noncommittal. "Anne-Marie was a lazy cow, pulling a bad face every day, that skinny girl was late every day, you can't hire these people. Joy can't live without people for a moment, and sometimes she is better , still walking, but the house is full of things that could trip her up, I mean there's a steep 50-foot drop outside the house, and if she goes out—" "Has Sarah kept anything of value at home?" "I haven't seen it." "Yeah." He nodded, as if it was important. Outside Robbie was at the door, and Kay heard him and John whispering there.She wanted to tell that wretched little bastard to go home. Harris saw her attention turn to the foyer, and he nodded there. "Where are those boxes in the foyer from?" Kay picked up the drink, glared at him over the rim of the glass, took a sip and put it down. "Where do you think they came from?" "I don't know. Why didn't you tell me?" "You think they were stolen? Am I a thief? Am I so depraved that I want to steal the cartons?" He blinked slowly, "Why didn't you tell me where these things came from?" "Because the insinuation is insulting to me. Why don't you ask Alex what I said when she asked me where the boxes came from?" Kay saw him looking down at the clipboard and realized he didn't know Alex was here, and alone.She didn't intend to betray Moreau. A principle is a principle, and it doesn't matter whether you apply the principle to the person you like.But Harris is smart, and he knows it now. Seeing John close the bedroom door tightly, Kay stood up, "I want you to leave now, if you don't mind." She went into the hall, leaned against John's door, and pushed it open, leaving it wide open. "Dinner finished?" After a brief pause, John said guiltily like a child who has made a mistake: "It's over!" "Then get your dishes out and wash." She glanced back into the kitchen, where Mary's dinner hadn't moved, congealed on the plate. Two police officers had arrived in the foyer, and Harris put the clipboard back in the briefcase.Joe and Frank came out of the room, Joe carrying a stack of plates and cutlery.Kay saw with embarrassment that the top plate had been licked clean, and there were large tongue marks around the plate, and she saw the policeman look at the two boys from head to toe with strange eyes. "Well, Mom," said Jo, not aware of her embarrassment, "another culinary triumph! Are you leaving?" Harris ignored Joe, "We will come again." "Anytime," Kay said. She hated the way Harris looked at the children so much that she almost pushed the two policemen to the door. "Anytime." She closed the door, and through the glass panel, she could see that they were still outside, not speaking.She waited for them to go away until she heard the elevator doors opening and closing. She caught a glimpse of John's bedroom door closing slowly again. She rushed over angrily, kicked the door open, the door bounced off the wall, and she whispered, "I know what you're doing inside." Jo said behind her, "Let him masturbate, Mom, it's the natural way." Frank laughed, and Kay even heard Mary laughing in her room, a laugh she hadn't heard in months. Morrow and McCarthy didn't know if the hotel manager could see them, but they certainly could see him: lean and aloof, with an overpracticed concentration.Staring at the webcam, motionless, rarely blinking when answering questions about Sarah Errol, he seemed condescending and annoyed. Morrow and McCarthy had to speak very slowly to overcome accent problems, to weed out the Scottish dialect and struggle to articulate syllables that the Scots were not good at, and Morrow found himself sounding ridiculous: "You can tell us something about Sarah About La Herrol?" He seemed to be reading a monologue on a TV cue machine, and replied without hesitation: Sarah Errol had stayed at their hotel many times, and she was just a charming guest.No, there is absolutely no suggestion of engaging in prostitution.When she was staying at a hotel, she always met a gentleman, and occasionally the two spent the night together. "I understand," said Moreau, as clearly as possible, "that by 'overnight' you mean they slept together?" "It seems possible." "Do you know that gentleman?" The manager gave a smirk, but he actually looked a little annoyed, "The gentleman said he was 'Sal Anders,' and that wasn't his real name." He paused, waiting for her to ask her a question, and she found it a bit annoying for him to be so secretive. "What's his real name?" "Lars Anderson, I can tell you now, because the gentleman is gone." "Where did you go?" He looked confused. "No, Mr. Anderson is dead." "when?" "This week?" His suspicion was palpable even across the Atlantic. "It's been covered in all the papers here. I believe it happened in England." "Is he famous?" "Very famous," the manager paused, "here. He died in England." "Yes, we're in Scotland, Scotland is different than England, so maybe it's not big news for us." The manager, feeling insulted to his intelligence, blinked and continued, in exactly the same tone as before, "I realize this, this is a very big news for us, you really probably haven't read it Ever? Allied Global Investments? Billions of pounds gone? Lars Anderson?" Moreau thought she had heard a little, but she said nothing, just looked at McCarthy.McCarthy guessed: "Is he in finance?" "At the center of the financial scandal," the manager nodded, "he hanged himself two days ago, you know, that's a rumor here, but we've heard that the media in England have published pictures of him hanging himself. We don't have that kind of thing here." Media, it's quite different..." Morrow asked how he knew the man's real name was Lars Anderson, had he seen a card or something?The hotel manager spun around in his chair and said it was his job to understand such things. "But do you have any proof?" "I have a credit card receipt from the hotel." "Using his real name?" "yes." "Why did he register under a different name and then pay with his own credit card?" Hearing this question, the manager showed a mysterious and mischievous expression, "I don't think that gentleman cares about the secret of his identity, I think it's just a token, he's telling us to be careful." McCarthy suddenly remembered something, sat up straight, "Oh, yes, I remember he was married?" "So I believe..." Morrow began recapitulating the manager's testimony, making sure they got it right so they could write it down and fax it to him for confirmation: Sarah and Lars Anderson were a couple—no, the manager cut her off, they weren't Couples, they may have slept, but they're not couples.He bought her a present, a bracelet, from the hotel shop.Lovers don't do that.The gift from the hotel meant that he only thought of her on the way to the hotel instead of him thinking about her all the time when the two were not together.Moreau said maybe he was forgetful.The manager didn't comment.How do you know the bracelet is for Sarah?The manager smiled smugly again, saying that Sarah gave it to the hotel maid as a tip. "So what's their relationship? What? Stormy storm?" "Perhaps, it's just a convenience..." he hinted. Morrow was tired of the manager's extremely subtle social expressions, "What the hell does this mean?" The manager blinked slowly, he was also tired of Morrow, "They are taking advantage of each other." "Okay," Morrow stood up, "I'll ask my colleague to retell the main points of what you said with you, and he will fax it to you for you to sign for confirmation." Without saying goodbye, she went straight to the case room. Luther was looking over people's shoulders, watching them work. "You," she said, "I want you to search for this name in the newspaper news." She wrote "Lars Anderson" on a slip of paper and handed it to him, "In 20 minutes I will See the printed document." Luther took the note. She returned to her office, and in less than 10 minutes Luther knocked on the door, and walked in with today's newspaper and the documents that were just printed out and still warm from the printer. "I've been following this story," Roother enthused. "He's a total bad guy." Moreau nodded, pretending to have heard of Anderson, but she really didn't like reading newspapers. "Look, like 'here' and 'hair,' 'Lars' really sounds like 'liars.'" Moreau looked at him, and he was right, "Well, it seems that you are not stupid." Luther smiled and left. "Come here," she said, "and close the door." He walked over anxiously and stood in front of Moreau. "So," Moreau nodded toward the door behind him, "what the hell are you doing?" "Which way?" he said stiffly. "What are you plotting?" His jaw trembled and he began to break out in a cold sweat. "Luther," she said quietly, "if a face can take a shit, your face can." He didn't think it was funny, and had a sad face. "Get out," she said. He withdrew hastily and closed the door behind him. Moreau started reading the first story, and to her great shock there was a picture of Lars hanging from a tree on the front page of the paper—she hadn't known they could print that, too.She knows that suicides are generally not reported because it encourages copycats. The article focuses on Lars Anderson, a financier who has become the focus of a protest movement in the media. Morrow read the Sunday Times account of his scam three times and still doesn't understand what he did to lose so much money; billions of pounds.The most she could conclude was that he was giving people mortgages with rates so high that they couldn't pay them back, but she didn't really understand why that turned him into a demon.She thinks that people should first figure out their ability to repay the loan before deciding whether to take out a loan. No matter what he did, he made a lot of money anyway.His house in Kent was shot from both the air and the ground, as well as aerial shots of his holiday home in South Africa.His estate agent provided photos of the villa's interior.It doesn't look that good.There are pictures of his wife, taken while driving, taken while walking, always wearing dark glasses, looking frightened but prim. Several of Lars' photos were actually the same one, and she didn't know why.There are a few pictures of him covering his face with a rolled-up newspaper or his hands as he rushes into his car or out of the office, but the ones he poses are glamorous and radiant. In one, a high-foreheaded, silver-haired man standing in front of a helicopter with his jacket open and carrying a briefcase appeared to have stopped for a quick photo before boarding. Take the plane to an important occasion.It's a well-crafted shot of him carefully groomed and posed, but his slightly distended belly and purple rosacea aren't quite covered up.Lars looks straight into the camera, arrogant and sinister.Most people smile and try to look pleasant, but that's how he wants the world to see him.This, she felt, spoke to the real problem.Newspapers detailed his possessions, wealth, and even dependents, who seemed dazzled by him. According to the report, United Global Investments and his private bank accounts have been frozen by the Major Fraud Investigation Bureau pending investigation.Mrs. Tyrine mentioned the United Global Investment Corporation, so she had heard of it a little bit before, referring to the time Mrs. Tyline mentioned.Anderson left a civil court hearing two days ago that permanently disqualified him from continuing to serve with the limited company.The SFO investigation meant that no matter how competent he was, he could no longer run and manage the company he worked for.Afterwards he went straight home and hanged himself.He was found dead by suicide four hours before Sarah Errol was killed. Morrow called up the thumbnail of the picture from Sarah's iPhone, and found the silver-haired man in the New York photo. Although it was blurry, he could identify it carefully. This person was Lars Anderson. She picks up the phone, selects an outside line, and dials the Serious Fraud Investigation Service in London. The voice message says they only work until 5:15.The work and rest system is very humane. There was a quick and familiar knock on the door. "Come in, Harris." Harris opened the door and poked his face in. "Harris, are you going to London tomorrow? I wanted to make an appointment with the SFO, but they're closed." He still has his coat off and looks agitated, "Inspector, Kay Murray has antiques at home that Leonard says are worth a lot of money and are very precious, her children are wearing the same black suede sneakers .She has a deep animosity towards us. We need to bring her here for investigation."