Chapter 7 third chapter

That night, Timothy Cohn returned to the attic with a small roasted chicken leg, shared it with Cleo, and went back to reading "Creative Pregnancy." At this time, someone knocked on the door hurriedly outside, not Samantha's sign.Timothy walked to the door suspiciously. "Who?" he asked among them. "Davenport, open the door quickly, we won't come to destroy your place." Timothy unlocked and unbolted the door, where the two NYPD detectives, Davenport and Gélance, stood. "The door below is closed, how did you come in?" Timothy wanted to know.

"The door below you has been pried open." "Pry it open again?" Timothy said, sighing. "This is the second time this month, come in." "Do you like his kennel?" Davenport asked Galance. "A luxurious kennel? That monster under the bathtub, I think it's a cat!" He turned to Timothy and said, "Do you want to buy us something to drink?" "What would you like to drink? I've got beer, vodka, wine, and a little brandy." "I drink vodka, how about you?" Davenport asked Nick Gelance. "I should have gone back quickly, my daughter is having a birthday party at home today."

The three sat around the table.Davenport glared at Timothy and opened a pack of gum. "Harry found some fingerprints in Jessie Scott's apartment, and some of them were indeed Bernie Snogren's. You got it. How did you figure it out?" "I don't know," Timothy said. "Just a random guess." "It seems to me that Bernie Snogren's death was probably related to Harder Bissen's death, isn't it?" "I can't answer that question," said Timothy. "If I had to guess, I'd try it. It might be related. Either Bernie Snowgren or his buddies did it."

"His partner?" Davenport said. "One witness saw a man get out of the wrecked Pontiac." Timothy nodded. "Did you see that?" Davenport asked. "Yeah," Timothy grudgingly said. "I was tricked into the street by them and they jumped out and beat me up." "Is there another guy besides Bernie Snowgren?" Gylance asked. "There was a guy named Saul, about five feet ten inches tall, one hundred and eighty pounds, very thick chest and shoulders, in a dark suit, and a very good thug, I've been taught." "Can you identify him?" Davenport asked.

"Of course." Timothy said, "I think Bernie Snowgren may have joined hands with Saul to commit the crime. If we start looking for Bernie, we may find Saul." The two policemen leaned forward, staring at him expressionlessly. "Is that what you're telling us?" Davenport said. "There's a guy whose name is Saul? Is that all?" Timothy was silent for a moment, sipping his brandy, thoughts racing through his mind.If the detectives don't help out at this point, they'll never call him back. "I think," he said at last, "that Bernie Snowgren and Saul are just two hired thugs, with people who pay them to - don't they? I guess that's probably - —Martin Gadu, no evidence, but very likely, he works for Luthers Industries. As far as I know, that guy is a complete villain, and he has financial and political groups behind him to support him."

Davenport took out his notebook and ballpoint pen. "Martin what?" "Gadu." "What's the name of his company?" "Luthers Industries, also on Wall Street." "How did he get involved with Hard Bissen and Jessie Scott?" "I can't answer that," Timothy said, "but I've researched, and Martin Gaddu is very interested in the Hope Clinic, and Harder Bissen and Jessie Scott are working there. I suspect that both of their deaths were arranged by Martin Gadu." "Why?" Garance asked. "I think Hard Bissen might have to reveal some secret," Timothy said, rubbing his forehead. "Perhaps Bisheng has mastered some research reports or documents, and only he knows what it is. After they killed him, they were afraid that Hard Bisheng had told his girlfriend these secrets, so Jessie Scott was killed too. I know it's just speculation, but it's pretty close. There must be something going on in that locked lab at the Hope Clinic, and many people wonder There is a strong interest in everything in it, so interested that they want to kill those who know the secret."

"You have no idea what's going on in there?" Davenport asked. "Not yet, but I'll find out." "I'm sure you will," Davenport said, draining what was left in his glass and standing up. "When you find out, be the first to tell me—will you?" "Of course," Timothy said. "Very well! Holmes, we shall go to Chasol and Martin Gaddo if we can. Thank you for the wine." "Yeah," Gylance said, "thanks a lot." He stood up too, offering Timothy a handshake. "I knew that lifelong suicide was fake, and now I finally have some clues. Let's get in touch later."

After they left, Timothy picked up the book again, reading about the swimming sperm, bravely going upstream, looking for the egg that welcomed it.Thinking about it, he really wanted to call Samantha, but he resisted the urge, he didn't want to have offspring for now, until...   Sinai, the accountant director, got married in secret. Everyone held a banquet for him in the office, and even the corridors were filled with crowded people.Sinai opened several bottles of good wine, and prepared cocktails, Coke, and several plates of glutinous rice snacks.The bride blushed and smiled as she opened the wedding presents everyone gave her.

Samantha walked over to Timothy. "What's the latest news?" Timothy asked. "No news, but time is running out on the Hope Clinic case. Do you remember? The boss only gave us a week." "I know, I'm putting pieces together right now." She looked at him. "You keep a lot of things from me," she said. "Yeah!" he admitted. "I've got a lot of things troubling you." "Timothy, why can't you tell me what you're doing? Besides, I'm your boss too, so you should let me know how things are going." "Samantha, I'm thinking about it right now. There are so many doubts I haven't figured out. The whole thing is spinning like a spinning toy."

"If you tell me, maybe I can help you too. You know, I've got a good head, too." "I know you have a good head, but—" Suddenly, there was a burst of laughter from the other group of people, followed by an uproar, and finally the crowd dispersed, leaving only Timothy and Samantha. "One more thing..." She lowered her voice and said, "Do you know how long we haven't been together?" "It's been a long time!" he murmured. "How long do you want me to wait?" she demanded. "You are free! White woman, only twenty-one!" he said to her.

She glared at him. "You are such a goose. Besides me, do you have someone else occupying your dirty heart?" "Cleo," he said. She couldn't help laughing, but left him.He poured the vodka that Sinai had served, and returned to his office with the glass in hand.He had to put his personal happiness aside and concentrate on his work. He thought about the two doctors, maybe one of them, maybe they had some trouble in Paradise. He made a call to Victor Jerry, who turned out to be operating, and he would call back as soon as possible.Timothy waited patiently, drinking his drink and smoking a cigarette.Finally, Dr. Jian Rui's call came. "Hello, Mr. Cohen?" Dr. Victor Jerry said, "Is there anything I can do for you today?" "I hope we can talk." "Of course, do you want to come to my place?" "No," Timothy said, "we have to talk privately, just you and me, and I hope Dr. Durbar isn't here." The other party was silent for a while, and then slowly said: "I see, well, I can arrange, what's your opinion, where to meet?" "You know the Bellington Hotel? It's not too far from your place. We'll meet in the bar there, three o'clock in the afternoon?" "Mr. Cohen, what's the matter?" "I'm just going to discuss our mutual interests." "Okay," Jian Rui said, "At three o'clock in the Bellington Hotel, I'll be there." "If I were you," Timothy said, "I wouldn't tell anyone about it." The other party paused for a long time. "Okay," Jane Rui said, "I won't." After hanging up the phone, Timothy leaned back in his chair contentedly. So far, everything went well, and he believed that Jane Rui would definitely be hooked. He went to the office at Sinai again, but the party was over and there was no free food or vodka to be found.He put on his freshly laundered coat and went downstairs, bought fast food such as hamburgers and fried food, and sat on a stool by the counter to eat. When he was full, he walked towards the Bellington Hotel, and was pleased to find that the bar was almost empty, except for the bartender chatting with a man drinking a martini.Timothy ordered a Dutch beer and sat down at a corner table with a glass, where he had a good view of the glass door of the hall. A few minutes after three o'clock, Jian Rui appeared.He looked around and saw Timothy, walking quickly, smiling charmingly. "Hey," he said quickly, "that's a really good idea, I'm going to rest." "You order from the bar," Timothy told him. "There's no waiter service here." The doctor came with a tall glass of drink. "Respect," Jian Rui said, and he took a sip and said, "Mr. Cohen, you called today with a very mysterious voice." "Me?" Timothy said, "No way, my hand is all on the table, don't you think?" "Of course, we all open the skylight to speak the truth." "Yeah! I'm thinking now, if Hudlin's company gives the green light, Pinger's will invest in the Hope Clinic, and no matter what they do financially, they will always invest a lot of money. A rising tide lifts all boats, and you immediately Just a rich man." "It's not me," Jian Rui said with a smile, "It's our clinic that benefits." "But aren't you the owner of the 'Hope Clinic'? I know that the 'Hope Clinic' has been operating very well, but I wrote this report. For you, water can carry a boat, and it can also overturn it." "Well, I do hope you'll agree with us," said the doctor gently. "For your investigation, we will do everything possible to cooperate with you." "Not everything is like that," Timothy said, looking at him. "It's like that locked laboratory. You won't let me see it. I don't like insisting. I must bring a scientific team to check and see what you are doing inside." Jian Rui drank his drink in one gulp, stood up suddenly, walked to the bar, ordered another drink, and walked back. "Too thirsty," he said. "The operation this morning was very difficult. Do you think a scientific team is really going to investigate?" "Probably not," the Wall Street detective said. "Not if I'm willing to put a nice spin on the report." The two stared at each other, looking at each other. "How much do you want?" Jian Rui said in a hoarse voice. This time, Timothy got up and went to the bar to get some toppings, taking his time deliberately and chatting with the bartender for a while, leaving the doctor sitting there sweating before he walked back. "How much do you want?" Jian Rui said again. "I calculate that if this business is successful, you will be a multi-million dollar rich man. I just want to share a small piece of pie, to ensure my happiness, do you understand?" "How much do you want?" The doctor has said it for the third time. "Oh," Timothy said, shaking his hand. "I only need $50,000, which is a very reasonable fee." Jian Rui tried to hide his shock, but failed. His hand holding the cup of soda trembled. He wanted to take a sip, but the soda spilled out and splashed on his chin.He wiped it off immediately with a napkin. "This is ridiculous," he said without looking at Timothy. "I don't think so. I know I have a lot of power in my hands. If I say yes, I can. So, it's not too much for me to ask for fifty thousand dollars." When Timothy planned the script for this "drama," he figured this was key.If Jian Rui yells to fuck you, then Timothy's plan will be over, and Jian Rui will make a big noise to Hudlin, and he will probably be fired by the company. But Jian Rui didn't react with anger or anger, even the surprise disappeared, and only put the cup back on the table. "Fifty thousand dollars," he said, "is a lot of money." "It's not big." Jian Rui raised her eyes and looked straight at Timothy. "I don't think you're that kind of person." "Then what kind of person am I? You are not a tall person, and neither am I. Is fifty thousand dollars so terrible?" "I can't give you the answer yet." "Of course you don't have to answer me right now, think about it. Otherwise, I'll find a group of detached doctor investigators to come and see your lab. You go back and do the math yourself. You read a balance sheet like you read a thermometer. Familiar. The only problem is that the boss wants me to come up with the report in a few days." Victor Jerry finished his drink, stood up, and took out his wallet, but Timothy held it down with his hand. "No, no," he said, "I'll pay the bill." Jian Rui gave him a faint smile. "Thank you, I'll call you tomorrow. Are you satisfied with the price you offered?" "Of course," said Timothy, "I'm as concerned about the Hope Clinic deal as you are." "I doubt it." Jian Rui said. Timothy watched him go, still sitting there, drinking his unfinished beer.He knew he was at great risk. It was a rainy morning, and the rain dripped from the broken skylight onto the linoleum floor in the attic.Timothy used a pot to catch the rainwater, and Cleo ran to drink it. "Crazy cat," Timothy spat. After arriving at the office, he doubted whether the actors in his script would continue to act according to his script.He doodles on paper to pass the time.Just after ten o'clock in the morning, the phone rang.He is superstitious and crosses his fingers before answering the phone. "Hello?" he said. A woman's voice asked, "Mr. Timothy Cohn?" "yes." "Wait a moment, please. Mr. Martin Gardo wants to speak to you." Timothy smiled grimly into the microphone.bingo!Now it's hit. "Timothy Cohn?" "yes." "I'm Martin Gadu. I think we'd better talk." "Of course," Timothy said. "Where? When?" "On South Harbor Street at eleven o'clock. Will you be there on time?" "I'll be there. How do I know who you are?" "I'll recognize you," Gadu said. "There's a shop there that sells handicrafts made by sailors. At the entrance, there's a big whale made of tin." "I'll find it." "Eleven o'clock," said Gadu, "must be there." The other party hung up the phone with a bang. Timothy was very happy-"One of my most beautiful dreams is about to come true." He sang loudly against the peeling wall, and checked to see if the holster on his ankle was in good condition. He went out to the sea, and found a shop selling sailor's handicrafts.Before he got to the store, he saw a man in a tweed coat coming towards him in the rain, wearing a green fedora with some feathers in the strap.His face was full of flesh, and his eyes were cold and hard. "Cohen?" he said. "Yes. Are you Martin Gadu?" "Yes. Care about the rain?" "No, it's okay." "Okay, let's go for a walk!" The Wall Street detective didn't like it, he felt safer inside the house.There were hardly any people on the street, and anything could happen, maybe a long gun pointed at him from behind a parked car. They were walking by the water, and Martin Gardo asked calmly: "You want fifty thousand dollars? Are you really that greedy?" "Aha!" said Timothy, knowing he had guessed right now. "Jian Rui told you, didn't she? No, I'm not greedy. When I see a lot of bread, I just scoop up a few crumbs." "I don't think you'd be so stupid, but you're such a lion. How old are you? You want to hold us, and you don't see who the backstage boss is? Mr. Cohn, you're just a little fly. If You're going to keep causing trouble, so we'll have to slap you like a fly." "Maybe," Timothy admitted. "You tried once, didn't you? Bernie Snogren's dead, and the cops are looking for his friend Saul. They'll find him, and they'll make a statement from him. You're worried, aren't you, Mr. Gaddu?" ?” "I do not know what you're talking about." "I'm sure you know." He was very excited, and it took him a while to get his emotions under control.Suddenly Timothy plucked the few feathers from his hat and threw them into the water. "I hate this," he said. Martin Gaddu watched in amazement as the feathers fell into the water, and he turned to stare at Timothy. "I don't think you will live long," he said. "I know, and so do you." The two glared at each other, Gaddu's blue eyes sparkled, and Timothy thought the guy was going crazy.Finally, Martin Gaddu controlled his anger. "Last time you refused the money that Lester Pinger offered you, but this time you asked Jane Rui for money. Have you learned something now? I dare say you haven't. I think you just want to pass Jane Rui found me. It's a good move - but not smart enough. Well, now you know, I'm the one standing behind Lester and Jane Rui. What are you going to do?" "I don't think the 'Hope Clinic' business can be negotiated." Timothy said, "What else?" He really wanted to know what Martin Gadu would do next. "Let me tell you, I don't know what the relationship between you and Samantha is, but you were tricked by those two people on the phone at two o'clock in the morning. He told you that Samantha was killed, and you immediately Just run down. I reckon you've got a lot of thoughts about her, don't you, Mr. Cohen? Now I've got your weakness!" "You wicked rascal!" "You know how we clean Sy Scott? Would you like to see Samantha's nipples cut off too? Think about it, I'll give you two days, forty-eight hours. If I don't hear you pass' Hope the clinic's investigation, I'll take your friend under the knife." "You're dead," Timothy Cohn said. "I don't think so." Martin Gadu sneered and said, "As my boss said, everyone can be threatened and lured. Now I know how to treat you. You just listen to me, and I will let you go." Samantha. Two days, Mr. Cohen, nice to meet you." He raised his hat with a very ironic little movement, turned around and slowly disappeared into the rain and fog. Timothy was trembling with anger. He knew that Martin Gardo could do what he said.Taking out a Camel cigarette, his hands shook so much that he struck a match three times but failed to strike a fire.Rain dripped from the fur hat, and he threw away the wet cigarette, knowing what to do. In the lobby of Pinger's office building, he took off his coat and fur cap and shook the water vigorously.An old worker was mopping the ground back and forth with a big mop. He took the elevator up to the eighth floor and said to the receptionist: "Timothy Cohn, I want to see Ernie Pingle..." "Wait a moment, sir." She called to report and Timothy waited patiently.After a few minutes, the old lady stared at Timothy indignantly, and said suspiciously: "He's eating lunch." "I can wait." "No," she said with hatred and jealousy, "you go in!" She led him, down a long corridor, and opened the door. "Would you like tea?" she asked. "Or coffee?" "No," he said, "thank you." Ernie Pingle was sitting behind an old oak table, with a cup of tea and a box of English biscuits in front of him.In this little room there was a chair with arms, and an old-fashioned oak chest, and a wooden coat-rack, and a brass cole, and that was all. "This place is almost as small as my office," Timothy said, looking around. Ernie Pinger shrugged. "How are you, Mr. Cohen?" "I'm not well, just alive," said Timothy, hanging his wet coat and fur hat on the rack. "How are you?" "Rheumatism." The old man said: "In this weather, my whole body hurts badly, so I didn't stand up to welcome you, but I hope to shake hands with you." Timothy reached out to shake his hand, and then sat down on the chair next to him. "Would you like tea?" said Pinger. "Or coffee?" "No, thank you. Your secretary has already asked me." "My secretary has been working with me for almost fifty years. Can you believe it?" "Yes, I believe." "You should at least have a biscuit," said the old man, handing him the biscuit tin. "The biscuits are delicious." Timothy looked at the biscuits and picked out a round one with a bit of chocolate in it. "A smart choice," Pinger said, nodding. "Mr. Cohn, do you have something to tell me?" "I have something to tell you," Timothy said, "and something to ask you. I advise you not to invest in Hope Clinic." "Isn't it suitable for Pinger Corporation?" "It's not suitable for other companies. But many strange people are interested. I advise you not to intervene. Now I can't explain it very clearly. It stinks very much." "I agree." Ernie Pingle said indifferently: "I had this intuition from the beginning, so I called the Hope Clinic to cancel it, and then called Hudlin to tell him that the investigation was over." "No," said Timothy quickly, "please don't do that, give me a day or two before you unplug this, and I think I can get them." Pinky looked at him curiously. "One or two days? Then why are you telling me it's time to cancel now?" "Because I think my boss is under pressure too, and he'll tell you it's all right before I hand in the report. Don't listen to him, Mr. Pingle, something is wrong." The old man nodded. "I should give you a red envelope," he said, "but I know you won't accept it." "Yes, I won't accept it." "Hey!" the old man said happily, "I'm good at seeing people. The first time I saw you, I told myself that I can trust this person. Do you know why I said that? Because you bought you a drink for me." Then thank me for ordering wine, and I said to myself, this person is so polite, he will definitely not deceive me." "Don't take it too seriously," Timothy said. "The most successful liars are usually the most polite." The old man shook his big head. "You're absolutely not," he said. "I know. Well, I'll close the Hope Clinic deal, but in two days. You'll have to tell me when it's better to announce that decision." "I'll let you know." "What about my son Lester? Is he involved in this?" "yes." "With that scoundrel Martin Garto?" "yes." "Is Lester in danger? Physical danger?" Timothy thought about it. "Perhaps," he said at last, "but it is very unlikely. I thought it would be worth the risk, to cut Martin Gaddu's knee before he jumped up, and your son would be spared." He came back free. Mr. Pingle, I don't want to give advice to a wise man like you, but I advise you to solve his financial difficulties first, and then kick them out of the lair and let them fly away." "Very good advice," said Ernie Pingle sadly, "but his mother would kill me. But sometimes you have to be hard-hearted." Timothy nodded, stood up, and put on his wet coat. "That's it," he said. "That's all there is to say, thanks for the biscuits." He held out his hand to shake Mr. Pinger's. "Are you married, Mr. Cohen?" Pinger asked. "No." "Would you like to meet a really nice girl?" "No," said Timothy, "thanks, I already know a nice girl." "Bless her!" cried Pinger. He didn't want to go back to the office now, he was afraid of running into Hudlin, and he was afraid of seeing Samantha.Thinking of Martin Gaddu's threatening words against him, he hoped that she would fly to Hong Kong immediately, maybe to Idaho to visit her parents.Samantha must know why he insisted on her leaving New York.If Timothy told her everything, she would be very angry, claiming that she knew how to protect herself. Timothy decides not to tell Samantha the truth.In case he fails, he still has time to control the worst. It was almost impossible to get a taxi at this time, the bus was too crowded, and there might be villains in the crowd, so he walked back and stopped by the store to buy smoked fish for the cat and a pack of frozen fish for himself. Macaroni and meatballs, and bought a bottle of brandy to keep out the cold. Back in the warmth of his attic, he tossed the kippers to Cleo and made his own dinner.After eating, he decided to take a nap.Cleo climbed into bed too, nestled in his lap, and the two fell asleep together. At ten o'clock in the evening, he woke up and read the new book on artificial pregnancy, hoping to find inspiration from the book and figure out what the hell was going on in the locked laboratory of the "Hope Clinic". Watching hard, trying to understand, I smoked half a pack of Camels, drank a second glass of brandy, and read the long notes.Page after page, until a passage completely captured his attention.He read it over and over again. Looking up, he knew he had found a clue.Now I understand why the U.S. government is interested in this matter, and why Mr. D is interested and ordered Martin Gaddu to lock the laboratory. Timothy glared at Cleo, who was sitting on his desk, looking at him coldly with bright eyes. "My goodness!" Timothy barked at the cat. He thought it over carefully.If she called Phoebe Dubar at night and asked to see her, she would be surprised and ask him to come to her place.Even asking her out to a bar at night felt bad, he didn't like being in public with her.This time, he will discuss with her one-on-one in private. Besides, if you call Phoebe Dubar at night, Jane Rui is likely to be with her.Timothy didn't want to be with the two of them, they got along so well. So he waited, waited until seven-thirty in the morning, called the clinic, and hoped Phoebe Dubar was there.The person who answered the phone told him that Dr. Duba usually goes to work at nine o'clock. After he thanked him, he said he would call again.But he called directly to her place. "Hello?" she said. "Dr. Durbar? Good morning. I'm Timothy Cohn." The other party paused. "My God," she said, "you're up so early." "Yeah," he said, "sometimes it's really important to get up early, and I hope you'll talk to me this morning in private, we're not in the clinic." "What's the matter? Mr. Cohen. If it's about Pingger, I think you should talk to Jian Rui." "No, I'm talking about research work, and I really want to talk in private." "Okay," she smiled nervously. "You are mysterious." "Then give me half an hour, okay?" "Okay," she finally agreed. "How long will you be here?" "Twenty minutes," he said cheerfully. At this time, there were many empty taxis on the street, and Timothy hired one smoothly. He was preparing what to say along the way. She was wearing a black woolen sweater that fitted her perfectly.Every time he saw her she was wearing a lab coat, never in casual clothes, and he was amazed at how slender and finely woven she was. She took his coat, but didn't ask if he wanted coffee. "Mr. Cohen," she said in a business-like tone, "what's the matter with you here?" He sat uncomfortably on the single sofa covered by the linen chair, leaned forward, clasped his hands, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Pinger's deal is over," he said, looking straight at her. "I broke the deal. Last night I told Ernie Pingle better not invest, and he agreed." She was so shocked that she couldn't speak for a while before she regained her composure. "Why? Why did you ruin our plan. Didn't we cooperate with you every step of the way? Why didn't you let this deal happen?" "Okay, let me tell you the reason. Although most of it is my speculation, it is almost the same. "First of all, I found out what was going on in your locked laboratory, and that's all. Because if you don't do this kind of experiment, someone else will. The project is not only time-consuming, but also quite expensive. I Look, you guys need to apply for a federally authorized grant, so contact Gibby. He approves this science research grant on behalf of the US government, mostly under very confidential circumstances. So far, am I right?" "I'm listening!" she said stiffly. "Gibby said that the U.S. government is interested in your plan, but the funds have not yet been allocated, so he suggested that you find a large-scale investment company like Pinger Corporation to invest in by restructuring the shareholder structure or other methods. Isn't it? " She doesn't answer. "I see, if my investigation confirms the 'Hope Clinic', then the US government will also fund it. It was none of my business, but two people were murdered, so the whole thing took a turn for the worse." She stared at him, and he believed she was very confused. "Two people were murdered, what are you talking about?" "Had Bisheng and Jessie Scott, they are now your playmates, and now they are buried. Dr. Jian Rui is a very ambitious and greedy person. He is not satisfied with the US government subsidies, but also wants to Find another source of income." "You're lying!" she said angrily. "I'm not mistaken about him," said Timothy. "In pursuit of more money and fame, he signed a contract with a man named Martin Gaddu. He is a hot guy in Luthers Industries. Ruther A subsidiary of this company is Gurnier International, both owned by Leo Dufer, known as Mr. D. As far as I know, Attila the Hun is nothing compared to his brutality. Became a Boy Scout." "You can't prove that!" she said angrily. "Originally, the only thing I couldn't prove was that Jian Rui was hooked up with Martin Gadu. I only knew that Mr. D and Martin Gadu ordered you to lock the laboratory. But now, I can confirm that they hooked up with each other. "A few days ago, I met with Jane Rui privately and suggested that he pay me $50,000, and I let the 'Hope Clinic' go through. Jane Rui said he would go back and think about it, and the next day I got a call from Martin Gaddu. He called me, and he yelled at me for $50,000. Jinmen didn’t even have it. Doesn’t that prove it?” She didn't want to believe it, but Timothy could see that she was beginning to believe it.If she hadn't had some doubts about Jian Rui in private, he would never have convinced her so quickly. Timothy was silent, giving her time to absorb her shock.They were sitting, staring at each other, when the phone next to them rang. "Don't worry about it, I'm probably calling from the clinic. Would you like a cup of coffee? I think I'd better eat something." "Okay, I want a cup of black coffee." When she got to the kitchen, he looked around her tidy living room, where there were several ashtrays, and it seemed that he would do no harm in having a cigarette.He lit a Camel and took a deep drag.At this stage of things he was content. She came back with a tray, poured him coffee, and asked: "Is there any more?" He nodded. "Had Bisheng was murdered, but he was arranged to commit suicide. The murderer put the gun in Bisheng's right hand, but the police later learned that Bisheng was left-handed." Startled, she tried to take a long sip of her coffee to hide her shock. "Jessie Scott's death was more clearly a murder." He went on. "The method was very cruel. The murderer tried to get something from her, or to force a confession from her. The police found fingerprints at the scene. It was Martin Garrett. Du's subordinates, friends of your playmates." "Please stop calling him our playmate," she said angrily. "I hate it when you say that." "Okay," Timothy said calmly, "Then I won't say that anymore. But I have evidence that Martin Gaddu was the main messenger who killed Jesse Scott." "Why are you telling me this? What the hell are you going to do?" "I want to bring this villain, Martin Gadu, to justice, but I still don't know his motives? Why did he murder Harder Bissen and Jessie Scott? I think you can guess the answer. I hope you Tell me. Harder Bissen works in your lab and you see him every day. I think he knows all too well what's going on in that lab and he's probably bothered by it, and Prepare to expose the inside story. Is there any laboratory data in life?" "Of course there is." "Is it short?" "I have no idea." "Is there a photocopier in the lab?" "Have." "So, he probably photocopied all the records." "It could be, but we all trust our colleagues at work. While he was around, we didn't turn around every time they left." “也许你该这么做。哈德·毕生在他死前几个星期，行动很怪异吗？” “是的，他很沮丧，每个人都注意到了。” “他可曾反对你们的研究目标？” “他并没有跟我谈起。” “在他死前，可曾和简瑞医生谈过？或私下和他见面？” 她喝完咖啡，放下空杯子，震得碟子好响。 “他可能有，”她很谨慎地说。“但我不知道他们在一起谈些什么。” “喔？”提摩西说，知道她在说谎。“那么毕生有没有威胁要辞职？” “他好像有……很不满意他的工作。”她含糊地说道。 “杜巴医生，”提摩西说：“很可能，非常可能。他违背了他当初发的誓言。我相信你还记得很多。你也该为自己打算，想想你的事业，你该告诉我——” 这时门外有人揿门铃——四短，非常生气的猛按。菲比瞪大眼睛。 “维克多在外面按铃，”她混乱得很。“我得开门让他进来。” “当然，”提摩西说着站了起来。“你去开门吧！” 简瑞冲进来。 “亲爱的，”他担心地说“一切都还——”这时他看到提摩西。“喔，”简瑞说着，试图挤出笑容来。“我没想到你有客人。” “杜巴医生和我讨论一些事情。”提摩西说。 三个人站着气氛很紧张。 “讨论？”简瑞说：“关于'希望诊所'的事吗？” “大部分在谈论你，”提摩西说：“你搭上马丁·伽笃，卷入哈德·毕生和洁西·史考图的谋杀案，我们刚才讨论的就是这些。” 他完全没想到，维克多·简瑞突然落到沙发上，愤怒得双手握拳，脸色僵硬。他爬了起来，蹒跚地走到提摩西面前，大喝一声，摆出空手道的架势。 这名华尔街侦探，迅速地从脚胫的枪套里拔出枪来，笔直瞄准。 “你要跟我来空手道，我就先打掉你的膝盖，你下半辈子就只有坐在轮椅上了。你要那样吗？试试看吧，射程之内我绝不会失误的。” 医生瞪视着他，慢慢他的怒气融化了。他的双手垂落在两旁，拳头松开，脸松垮，嘴巴微张，他平日的风采魅力全消失了，看起来倒像一个幽灵。 “我已经知道你锁着的实验室里在搞些什么鬼，所以你可以挥挥手和平格公司说再见了。简瑞医生，你让女人怀孕，希望能赢得诺贝尔奖，上电视出风头。但是你的梦永远不会实现了。” “噢，亲爱的！亲爱的！”菲比·杜巴叫着，她抱住了他，他一下变得矮了一截，再也没有原来的气势，他的头倒在她的肩上。 提摩西听到哭泣声，不知谁在哭泣，也许两个一块哭泣。他把枪插回枪套里，拿了外套和皮帽，朝门走去。 打开门回头一看，他们两人仍紧抱着。菲比·杜巴低声说着什么，抚摸着维克多·简瑞的头发。她是爱这男人的。 提摩西能了解这一点。 下午回到办公室，他叫了汉堡和飮料，一边动脑筋设计如何逮捕马丁·伽笃这个浑球。 他看准那两个医生不会和马丁连系，他们吃不到羊肉惹了一身骚，现在一定正在想办法如何摆脱这一滩混水。 五点后，他离开办公室，走了没多远看到一辆警车非法停车，前座坐着警探达文波特和盖兰斯，他们招他一起挤进车子前座。 "What's the matter?" he asked. “我们找到伯尼·史诸葛伦的朋友，他叫萨尔，不是索尔。全名是萨尔瓦多·吉泰瑞兹，作恶多端，可是却一天牢都没坐过，你相不相信？” “我相信，”提摩西说：“他现在在哪儿？” “没抓着，他非常刁滑，弄了四个证人证明他不在场。这王八蛋知道我们拿他一点办法都没有。” “你査过马丁·伽笃吗？” “噢，是的，”达文波特说，又拆开一个新的口香糖。“他跟你说的大致相符，还要更坏一些。” “我已经见过这个家伙。”提摩西说。 两名纽约警探瞪大了眼睛看他。 “你们谈什么？” “谈'希望诊所'。我告诉他我要五万贿赂，就通过调查。他说门都没有，如果我的调查不通过，他就要把我女友的乳头割下来，这话是不是很可爱？” “太美了。”盖兰斯苦笑着说道：“和洁西·史考图遇害的方式一样。你想那案子是伽笃在幕后主使的？” “不会错。” “我们如何捉这恶棍？”达文波特说。 “我倒有个主意，”提摩西说，“虽然是长射程射击，但应行得通。” “哦？”盖兰斯充满了希望地说：“说来听听看。” 提摩西向他们解释他打算采取那些步骤，两位纽约警探听得十分专注。他说完之后，两人你看着我，我看着你。 “应该可行，”达文波特慢慢地说：“如果搞砸了，你知道会遭受到什么样的后果，可不是？” “噢，是的。”提摩西。“我知道。难道你们要我作罢？” “为什么要作罢？”盖斯兰急切地说：“这是一个机会。” “好。”达文波特说。 三人商量如何行动，这次要把那批歹人一网打尽。提摩西钻出车子，和两名警探紧紧握手。 他走回家，喂了他自己和克丽奥。给那只猫新鲜的水，并且为牠打扫排泄物，并在厨房的水槽洗了一些衣服，抽了半包骆驼牌香烟。他喃喃自语，预演明天要说的台词。 “我可以得金像奖，”他对克丽奥说：“我正准备夺一座奥斯卡金像奖回来。” 那一晚，他睡得很不好，做了许多战争的恶梦，他原以为自己忘了，突然被自己呻吟的声音吵醒。睁开眼睛一看，看到克丽奥一张猫脸，几乎鼻子对鼻子，悲伤的呜呜叫着。 “走开！”提摩西说着，把那只猫推走。 他想再睡，却睡不着了，只好睁着眼等到天亮，一直躺在床垫上，看着破了的天窗。 早上，他迟了一小时上班，整个晚上他一直担心珊曼莎的安危。 他第一个拨电话给厄尼·平格。 “平格先生，”他说：“你现在可以把插头拔掉，宣布'希望诊所'这笔交易不成了。” “很好，”老人说：“我会打电话给哈德林公司，告诉他们停止调查，并送账单来。” “希望你只宣布撤出的决定，而不说明任何理由，这对我的工作会有帮助的。”提摩西说道。 “好的。”平格说：“还有什么？我年轻的朋友。你还好吗？你声音听来非常疲惫。” “如果幸运的话，今天就可以把案子了结。” “还有任何事我可以帮忙的吗？” “没有，谢谢你。”提摩西很感激地说：“你和你儿子谈过了吗？” “我和儿子媳妇都谈过了，”平格说：“我想他们会改的。” “我也是这么想，”提摩西说，对着话筒微笑。“很高兴认识你，平格先生，希望后会有期。” “什么时候有空，我还想听'希望诊所'所有的故事。” “会的，”提摩西说：“我会告诉你，但是你不会相信的。” “到了我这年齢，我相信任何事。” 提摩西第二通电话打给马丁·伽笃，但秘书告诉他伽笃先生正在开会，建议他半小时后再打来，提摩西等了四十五分钟后又试了一次，这回马丁·伽笃亲自接的电话。 “提摩西？”他说：“我一直等你消息。” “是啊，我想也是。”提摩西说，试着装作卑躬屈膝的声音。“我一直照你的意思做。” “很高兴听你这么说。还有呢？” “我想我们该是同道的。我的意思是我们都是很理性的人，可不是？” “希望如此，”伽笃说：“为了你自己好，你该通过'希望诊所'的调査，可不是吗？” “是啊，我想先和你谈谈这件亊。” “还有什么好谈的，你知道你现在只有一个选择。” “这我当然知道。”提摩西说：“可是我这么做了，你也不该让我两手空空啊。” 马丁·伽笃叹了一口气。 “好吧，提摩西。要是我心情好，就扔些饼干给你吧。今天下午，我们在海港老地方见面。” “我不想在空旷的地方见面，”提摩西说：“我希望背后有面墙。” 想不到伽笃大笑起来，显然不是什么好意的笑声。 “对，”他说：“我可以了解为什么你会有这种感觉。你有什么意见？” “麦迪逊街有一个地方，贝林顿大饭店的酒吧，下午通常没有什么人。我想大约三点左右，我们可以在那里见面，好好喝一杯，不会花太多时间。” 对方沉默一阵，提摩西倒害怕这条鱼钓不上来了。 然后，他听到马丁·伽笃说： “贝林顿？好吧，我知道。让我看看我的日程表。” “可以！”伽笃顿了一下说：“今天下午，我到贝林顿和你见面。你得准时到，我可不喜欢等人。” 接下来，提摩西打电话给纽约警探达文波特。 “上钩了，”提摩西告诉他。“今天下午三点在贝林顿。” “好，”警探说：“我们会乔装好，饭店人员会和我们合作。我们提早一个小时到那里，一切就绪。” “现在一切照剧本上演。” “我们会尽力而为。尼克·盖兰斯已经等不及要逮那个家伙了。” 两点半不到，提摩西就到了贝林顿大饭店，他先去男厕，上面钉着“修理中”的牌子。提摩西又走到酒吧，那儿有个酒保，另外还有一个闲懒的侍者，正看着自己的指甲。酒吧台上坐着一对年轻情侣，正交头接耳窃笑着。 这名华尔街的侦探，在角落阴影处找了一个小位子坐下来，背贴着墙，面对进口处。侍者拿来一份纸巾，还有一小盘咸花生。提摩西叫了一瓶荷兰啤酒，他尽快喝掉。 他向侍者示意再来一瓶，侍者又拿了一瓶啤酒，他很快喝完了。侍者打算拿走空瓶，提摩西却制止他。 “留着。”他说。 “好吧，先生。”那名侍者说着，叹了一口气。提摩西知道自己在做什么。桌上摆着两个空酒瓶，那是两个非常戏剧性的道具。 三点刚过几分，马丁·伽笃大步走了进来。他四下张望，看到提摩西便走了过去。他仍穿着那件双排扣的大衣，却没有戴帽子。提摩西心想，拔掉他帽子上的羽毛，他是不是就把那顶绿色的帽子也扔到水里去了。 伽笃脱掉外套，整整齐齐折迭好，放在旁边椅子提摩西的外套上面。侍者走了过来，伽笃点了威士忌。 伽笃看着那两个啤酒瓶。 “你喜欢喝这些肥皂水？”他问道。“还放着这些空瓶子，看来，你也喜欢打保龄球。” “是呀，有时也打保齢球。”提摩西懒洋洋地说：“打保龄球实在是很好的运动——你也知道？” 伽笃本来坐在他对面那张椅子上，这时却换了一个位子，挨到他旁边坐下，他们的膝盖几乎碰在一起。 伽笃喝了一口酒，然后从西装内袋掏出一个小黑盒子，比一包香烟长不了多少。那东西有个开关和指针。 “你知道这是什么？”伽笃拿出那东西问他。 提摩西摇摇头。 “这是电子侦测器。我们公司的产品，在台湾做的。如果你带了录音机，或者是无线电要录下我们的谈话，这个小东西——” 提摩西十分惊愕。 “我干嘛要这么做？” “如果你想这么做的话，”伽笃说：“我这个小可爱立刻会告诉我。” 他用拇指开了开关，然后拿着他那个小黑盒子调查他的肩部、胸部、腰下至腿。盒子一直亮着绿灯。伽笃一直注意那指针，并没看到酒保和侍者对他的凝视。 最后，他关掉开关，并把那小东西放回西装口袋里。 “你很淸白，”他说：“一旦你要搞鬼，我马知道。你右腿下面有重金属，可不是，那是什么？” “我足胫枪套里带了家伙，我是合法持枪的。” “那是当然，”伽笃说，又喝了口威士忌。“你不是用来对忖我的吧！” “算了，”提摩西说：“我每天早上都佩枪。” “啊哈，”伽笃说：“看来伯尼·史诺葛伦就是你干掉的。” “伽笃先生，”提摩西说道，喝完他第二瓶啤酒。“这一类谈话谈不出结果的。我们要讨论'希望诊所'的事。” “你在电话里说了，我问过你还有什么好讨论的。” “呃，”提摩西说：“这些啤酒……喝得我后面牙齿都软了，我得尽快到厕所去一趟，然后再告诉你我心里的打算。” “快去吧。”马丁·伽笃不经意地说。这一步又成功了。 他跑到大厅的男厕所，提摩西敲门敲了三下，很快的达文波特开了门。 "how?" “到目前很好，”提摩西说着，打开灯芯绒西装外套和法兰绒衬衫。“这个王八蛋疑心得很，不出所料，他带了侦测器，多三分钟我就有麻烦了。” “我们会成功的，”尼克·盖兰斯说：“这位是马弗·汉荷兹，他是一位电子专家，准备替你装上录音器材。马弗，这位是提摩西·柯恩。” “嗨，”这位戴眼镜的专家说，他从很宽有黏性的胶带撕下一段。“我准备把麦克风贴在你的胸上，讯号发射器黏在你的肋骨上，录音机放在你的口袋里。” “左边口袋，”提摩西说：“他坐在我的右边靠得很近，也许会感觉到。” “好，那我就把录音机放在左边的口袋里。我们另外有两个接收器，一个在吧台下面，一个在这里。这两个接收器非常小巧，日本制的，我们可以收听到你们谈话的内容，你尽量不要咳嗽、打喷嚏，或碰撞到东西。说话大声淸楚，尽可能离近一点，但不要露出不安的神情。” 一面说时，那名专家小心地用胶带将麦克风、电线、讯号发射器黏在他身上。 “好了，”马弗·汉荷兹说：“再把衬衫和外套穿上。” 提摩西扣上扣子，那位电子专家把录音机放进他左边的口袋里。 “我看很好。”盖兰斯检视后说。 “你能把领口扣子扣上吗？”马弗说：“这样他不会看到胶带。” “可以，”提摩西说：“可是我刚离开他时，是敞着衣领的，现在我把领口的扣子扣起来，他可能会注意，他很精的。” “好吧，”达文波特说：“就让领口敝开吧！”他又看看表。“超过三分钟，你快走吧！我们在这儿法意听，如果你有任何情况，我们会马上逮住他的。” 提摩西点点头，就走回酒吧，注意伽笃又点了一杯威士忌。提摩西向侍者招招手，指指他空着的啤酒瓶。 “这次我请客。”他对伽笃说。 “当然，”伽笃说：“提摩西，我喝完这杯准备走了。如果你有什么话要说，最好快点说。” “对，我要谈'希望诊所'的事。当初派我调查这个案子，我真不知道有这么重要。” “这是很重要，”马丁·伽笃说。“D先生最重视的就是这件事。” “我没想到幕后还有那么多人，后来赖斯特·平格拿钱贿赂我，使我感到非常意外。” “赖斯特·平格处理这事笨极了。”伽笃说：“这个人是个笨蛋。” “对，他很笨，你说得完全对。后来哈德·毕生和洁西·史考图死了，我才发现这个案子有多大。” 伽笃耸耸肩。 “不得不这么做，毕生威胁要把他知道的抖出去，所以我们只好做了他。” “你认为他把事情吿诉他女朋友了？” 伽笃注视着他。 “你难道不这么想吗？” “我不知道。伽笃先生，你比我聪明多了。我是说，你的眼光总比我们要看得远些，我看，他们两人一定是伯尼·史诺葛伦和萨尔瓦多·吉泰瑞兹干的。” “你怎么发现的？” “不是我发现的，是警察发现的。毕生是个左撖子，但是那把枪却放在右手，他们同时在公寓找到伯尼和萨尔瓦多的指纹。” “哼！”他嫌恶地说：“伯尼·史诺葛伦死了，我换人去保护D先生。” “D先生好像是个很可怕的人物。” “他腐败，一无是处，却目中无人。不过，他付好价钱。好啦！这些狗屎话说够了。你对'希望诊所'的调查可以通过了吗？” “还没有，”这名华尔街的侦探说：“我猜简瑞已经告诉你了。我知道那秘密实验室在干什么了吧！” “他是告诉我了，那又怎么样？” “呃，所以我知道，这有多重要。” “我告诉过你，你要是敢有什么想头，就小心你的女朋友。” “我知道，伽笃先生。但是我要点小红包总可以吧！” “你说的小红包是什么意思？” “呃，我不敢奢望五万美金，但一万也可以了！” 伽马把杯中残酒喝完之后说。 “如果你还想珊曼莎活着，最好不要在我面前提这些。但我是个宽宏大量的人，只要你通过调查，我会赏一千美元给你——做为你的福利。” “噫，伽笃先生，”提摩西说：“价钱就不能再加一点吗？” “要不要随你了。”伽笃说着，拿起他的外套。 “好，我要。”提摩西匆忙地说。 “我想你会要的。”伽笃说：“我经常跟你们这些矬蛋谈判，开始的时候，你们的姿态摆得有十呎高，最后是跪在地上乞求。别再打电话给我了。” 说着伽笃就要朝玻璃门走去，提摩西匆匆跟在后面，他要给达文波特和盖兰斯就位的机会。 “伽笃先生，什么时候我可以拿到现金？我很需要用钱。” 两个人走到大厅时，警探已经等着了，他们手上拿着证件。达文波特往前走一步。 “马丁·伽笃？” "Yes, who are you?" “达文波特警探，隶属纽约警察局。这位是盖兰斯警探，这是我们的证件。” “这在搞什么鬼？”伽笃怒斥。 “你被捕了，”达文波特说：“请打开你的外套，我们得捜身。” “被捕？”伽笃说，愣住了。“为什么被捕？” “你已经承认谋杀罪。此外，我们捉到萨尔瓦多·吉泰瑞兹，他已经招认了。嗨，盖兰斯，我们把那卷录音带寄给D先生如何？他听了一定把你猛踢一顿。没想到忠实的心腹竟说他腐败又一无是处。” “我不知道你在说些什么鬼？”伽笃说。他的脸色突然变得既紧张又苍白。 “马丁，宝贝……”这名华尔街侦探温和地叫唤着。 伽笃顿时非常混乱，提摩西打开他衬衫扣子，让他看到胸部黏着的麦克风。 “吃惊吧！”他说。 伽笃瞪视着，十分震惊，愤怒地抬起眼说： “我要毙了你。” 他每一个字都说得很慢很狠。 “你以为我在乎？” 提摩西·柯恩说，他更开心了。 旋转玩具慢慢慢了下来。有些人已经从这上面甩出去了，有些人还在上面，可是这玩具愈转愈慢，声音也渐渐变小了，提摩西也不像先前那么紧张。坐在快速旋转玩具上的感觉十分欢乐。但站在坚实地面上看事情要比昏眩的感觉更加踏实。 想想回办公室也没什么事好做，准备回到他的阁楼去，回家之前，他去店里买了些意大利腊肠和鸡蛋，又为克丽奥买了一罐鲔鱼罐头，让那只丑猫和他一起庆祝一番。 他还没锁好阁楼的门，电话铃就响了。 “我来了！”他对着电话大叫，这已经不是第一次了。人干嘛要对着响着的电话大叫，电话又听不见。 “喂，”他说。 “你窝在家里干嘛？”珊曼莎吼着：“你应该在这里工作的——记得吗？” “我有时也在外面工作啊，而且我一直忙着'希望诊所'的案子。” “算了吧，”她说：“平格公司已经打电话来取消了。” “没开玩笑？”提摩西说。 “你这王八蛋，我敢打赌一定是你的计谋。” “听着，我刚买了意大利腊肠和鸡蛋，你一起来晚餐如何？”