Chapter 13 Chapter Twelve

To get his belongings back, Akram needs to sign a receipt acknowledging that everything has been returned to its original owner.He opened the purse and inspected it in the presence of Inspector Bill and the arresting police.The Inspector felt a strange embarrassment when the young lieutenant withdrew his meager belongings.In addition to a few items of clothing—a very tiny portion of Bill's wardrobe—there was a small radio, a wind-up alarm clock, a toiletry bag, a pair of sneakers, a pair of leather flip-flops, a lunch box, a A metal drinking glass, a thermos, a spoon, a knife, a fork, a notebook, two pencils, a paperback book Introduction to Philosophy.

The sheriff was right, Bill thought.Either he had a storage box somewhere, or he was a monk.It made each of them wonder how could a monk be engaged to a woman like Jean Morley? Susan Campbell refused or could not explain the incident.When Akland was still under surveillance, Brian Jones invited her to talk in the monitoring room next door. "I've never met her, and I've never discussed her with Charles," she said firmly. "Would you like to guess?" Jones asked. "The lad gave us the impression that he lived in extreme moderation, while Detective Kahn and Inspector Bill said Miss Morley was an aggressive, foul-mouthed call girl. Yes What attracted him?"

"Sex." Jones thought it was a little ridiculous. "It's that simple?" He glanced at the screen. "His right side is handsome enough. Before he got hurt, he must have been a pretty attractive guy. I can't believe he would do it just for sex." Engaged to a whore. Why didn't he pay for it?" "She's not an ordinary whore," Bill said, "she's more of a high-class waitress who specializes in escorting businessmen from out of town or from a foreign country. She has a nice voice and probably scrubs clean...although tonight She seemed rude."

"She has a drug habit," Kahn said confidently. "She was going to have a fit when we talked to her, but she got away with it. If we stayed outside the apartment, we might see her coming out as soon as her guests left." Find a drug dealer." Jones turned his attention to Susan, "Is it possible that Charles has been trying to save her? I don't think he's that naive or stupid, but he's definitely a Puritan... Puritans have a nasty habit of believing in their own can correct the behavior of others.” "I can't answer your question," she said, "I don't know what Charles was like when he was with Jane... I don't know what Jane was. All temperaments change over time— We are all susceptible to the influence of those we live and work with - but often the changes that result from chronic substance abuse are the most obvious. If this gentleman," she pointed at Kahn, "is correct, then what he sees today The Jane she had was not the same Jane she was when she got engaged to Charles."

"And him? He's had a pretty bad headbutt. Does that affect his temperament?" "Of course. But in many different ways. How much time do we have? My presentations on short-term memory loss usually take an hour." Jones tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, "That's a simple question, Dr. Campbell." "But the answer is not simple, Sheriff. There are too many variables." "As an example." "Depending on the severity of the injury, a blow to the head can lead to impaired brain function - such as memory difficulties, confusion and loss of communication skills, which in turn often leads to feelings of irritability and depression, then , yes, it could be said that a blow to the head may affect temper."

Jones closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Is this Charles we met tonight the same Charles who visited Miss Morley regularly last year?" He asked coldly. "I don't know. I only met him after they broke up." "All I want is an opinion, Dr. Campbell. If Charles wasn't your patient then and isn't your patient now, it wouldn't be a breach of confidentiality at all. I need more convincing evidence that he had anything to do with this The investigation has nothing to do with it ... and your refusal to give any guidance does not help me make this decision."

Susan frowned. "What investigation? The inspector said his alibi was for Mr. Tadin's assault." "Any information in support of him would be helpful." "I don't have any information." She met his eyes for a moment. "Look, it might shock you to say that, but it's true that you probably know him better than I do. The longest conversation I've ever had with him was at the In the taxi from here." "What did you say?" "I'm trying to dispel some of his misconceptions about lesbians, that beautiful lesbians live off their partners, and masculine lesbians don't even know how to run a washing machine." There was a hint of that in her voice. A sense of humor, "Would you like me to do the same for you, Sheriff? I don't think you have a deeper or more sophisticated understanding of lesbian relationships than Charles."

"If he's so ignorant, why does he live with such a couple? Does he think he can correct them?" Susan didn't find it funny, "It has nothing to do with their sexual orientation. His choice is to live with Jackson and Daisy." "why?" Susan shrugged, "Just guessing, he knew he had to start trusting people again, and he believed he found some kind of trustworthy quality in Jackson. She won more respect from him overnight since he was injured than More than anyone else." Her gaze rested on the monitor for a moment, "Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if he changed his mind. Trust is a fragile thing, even under the best of circumstances." Ah Pointing to a few pieces of clothing that he hadn't put back in his purse, Crane asked Bill and the other officer if he would mind if he took off his shirt and put a few more on underneath.The inspector and his uniformed colleagues shook their heads.But after seeing Aklan's bony body, Bill was stunned.The ribs on his back stand out sharply, showing the image of a self-denying ascetic. This unhealthy state makes people both worried and curious. Where does his strength for vertical push-ups come from?

After putting on three T-shirts, the lieutenant put the shirts on. "You look like you're planning to go to the South Pole," Bill said in a friendly tone. Akram ignored him, checked his boots and coat, and wiped the toe of one boot with his sleeve, "What did they use on it?" "Blood detector...probably luminol or fluorescein." Ackland put another pair of socks on his feet and tightened the shoelaces, "If the leather rots along this line after two weeks, will I be compensated... or is this what I should pay as a witness cost?" "That's not going to happen."

"Yes," Aklan said lightly, and put on his jacket, "it's like injecting a large number of drugs will not cause Gulf War syndrome." He picked up the wallet, opened it, looked at it, put it into the leather bag, and fastened it tightly Pull the rope, "Is that so?" The policeman handed him a receipt and a pen. "All we need is your signature, sir... and the address where we can reach you, and a mobile number, if you have it." "You know I don't. You've already searched everything about me." Aklan signed his name, hesitated for a moment, and wrote "Gainsborough Road, Bell's Bar" on a new line, "If I decide to go from Bell's Bar Move away, what will happen?"

"You are free, Lieutenant, as long as you or Dr. Jackson notify us of your new address. There is no police bail condition attached to your release, but this may be amended if you fail to notify us of your whereabouts." .” "My car is outside," Bill said. "I can drive you there. Dr. Campbell called Daisy Wheeler ten minutes ago. She's waiting for us." Aklan was busy arranging the shoulder straps of his purse, "Why did Dr. Campbell make this call?" "When I told her we were going to release you, she offered to do so herself. She waited in the waiting room while you were here." Aklan raised his head in surprise, "Are you interrogating her?" "Just to help establish your alibi." "Then what is she still doing here? Why didn't she come home?" "In your support, I think," Bill replied matter-of-factly, "she said she was your friend. I promised to drive you both to Bell's after your conversation." A trace of hesitation flashed across the lieutenant's face, and then he nodded lightly, "I didn't expect... I thought she had already left." He raised the shoulder strap, over his head, and slung the leather bag on his back, " Thank you for giving me a ride...thanks...but do you mind if I wait outside while you pick up Susan? I desperately need some fresh air." "Of course." Bill opened the door and pointed to the right. "Go along here, turn left at the end, and go straight to the end to the exit of the parking lot. My car is a silver Toyota closest to the building." "thanks." Bill watched the young man go away, thinking about his hesitant look and the few extra clothes he had put on.He raised his voice and said, "You're not trying to escape, are you, Lieutenant?" Ackland stopped and turned to look at him. "I'd disappoint Susan if I did that," he said, "and I've never failed a friend." Susan and Bill left the police station and walked towards an abandoned parking lot, Susan eagerly lit a cigarette.She leaned against the hood of the Toyota, blowing smoke rings into the air, watching the inspector search for Acland at the exit, "What did you expect?" she asked him, "I warned you, he might Will change my mind." "He said he wouldn't let his friends down," Bill protested impatiently, "and, since he was referring to you, I thought he meant it." He looked at her with a reproach+ look like hers As if wrong, "He promised me that he would not run away." "Obviously not, if he didn't see me as a friend," Susan said thoughtfully, "you should have asked me to talk to him in the interrogation room." Bill tapped the remote button on the key fob and opened the car door for Susan. "He can't go very far. Let's drive around and see if we can spot him." He pointed to the "No Smoking" sign on the dashboard , "I'm sorry. I'm afraid this is a strict rule. You must snuff it out before you come in." Susan obediently obeyed the rules and sat in. "I think we should go directly to Bell's Bar. It's a waste of time to find him. Even if we find him, he won't be willing to go with us." "Then you might as well go home." "No," she said firmly, strapping on her seatbelt, "I need to talk to Jackson. She said she'd be back at the bar at 12:30." Bill got into the car from the other side, "I suspect Charles plans to spend the night in the open air - he added a few clothes before he left - I might find him in the morning." He put the key in and started the engine, "Let's hope this No one will be murdered in time," he said with emotion, "otherwise I don't know who would have jumped higher...he or me." Susan laughed unsympathetically, "If you really believe that Charles would pretend to be a gay man in order to capture lonely old men, you need to check your brains." Bill shifted into reverse, looked over his shoulder, and got out of the car. "What made you make that comment?" "You sheriff mentioned gay murders... wondered if Charles was in London when the last case happened." "He didn't already tell you that impersonating a gay man is a common tactic of the killer. We don't know how the killer got in." "I read the newspaper." Bill pulled onto the main road. "That's media speculation...we're all speculating." He glanced at her. "But let's assume you're right, why exclude Charles?" "Because all talk of sex at the moment repulses him. He's very private and doesn't let anyone get too close. Your boss says he's austere and restrained, I say he's protective, Overcritical. Do you think this state of mind would help with sex?" "There is nothing to suggest that sex ever took place. It is likely that the murder was an objection to claims of homosexuality." Susan shook her head. "Charles would never walk into someone's bedroom," she said confidently. "He wouldn't even walk in someone's door without coaxing him. He was very sensitive to his own disfigurement. He tried to prevent others from entering his personal space as much as possible, and he would not invade others. Even if he entered a stranger's house, he would never step across the hall of the house," she raised her eyebrows with a hint of sarcasm, "especially It's if he thinks there's sex behind the invitation." The Inspector glanced at her. "Then why didn't you tell the Sheriff what you said? If you had told him, Charles would have been released three hours ago." She sighed in exasperation and lit another cigarette without asking his permission, "No, he won't. He'll be just like you... hastily jumping off any absurd inferences that might connect Charles to the attack. I don't even understand how he came under suspicion in the first place." Bill opened the window a few inches to let the smoke clear. "The people who were attacked today made it very clear that Charles was the attacker." "How is that possible? Your superiors told me he was unconscious." "He regained consciousness momentarily when paramedics arrived. He said it was a man wearing a blindfold and Charles admitted he had an argument with Mr Tadin earlier today." "He told me about it. He said an old fellow kept poking him in the back. Is that Mr. Tardin?" "yes." "Then why did you let Charles go?" "He had an alibi," Bill said, stopping at a red light. "We think Mr. Tardin confused two things because Charles was back at the apartment when his attack happened," he said with a mocking Glancing at Susan, "But there was another argument. This time with the upstairs neighbor." She sighed again, "He told me that too. As far as I understand, that woman was lonely, and after Charles rejected her courtship, she started to fight against Charles." She paused, "You must think He's always fighting, but I don't think so. I agree he's had a rough 24 hours, but the fact that he came to me shows he's aware of it and doesn't want it to happen again." "What makes you think the Sheriff won't understand all this?" "Too many negative associations. Fighting...arguing...disgusting about having sex with a woman...seeking help from a therapist. From your boss's standpoint, I'd draw the obvious conclusion. At least he seems to have I found out myself: Charles was vehemently against anything of the flesh, and he was slowly killing himself through starvation." Bill recalls his raised ribs, "Did he do it on purpose?" Susan flicked the ash out of the car window. "I don't know, but if you want to pray for something, pray that Charles' body isn't found tomorrow morning." The traffic light turns green, but Bill ignores the change, "Are you serious?" "It depends on how much energy he has stored up." The car behind was urging, Bill started the car, but pulled over as soon as he crossed the intersection, "I can't ignore such information, Dr. Campbell," he turned to look at her, "If your concerns are well-founded, he Vulnerable as you say, it is our duty to find him." "That's why we're going to Bell's," she said. "He's going to hide from the police like the plague ... but I think he might talk to Jackson." The Inspector shook his head and pulled his phone from his coat pocket. "How's she going to find him? He's probably gone a mile in any direction by now." Susan put her hand on his arm and calmed him down. "I know where he might be going," she said, "but if I'm wrong, it doesn't matter half an hour. At least give Jackson a chance." "You have great confidence in this woman, Dr. Campbell." "Not half as confident as I am in Charles," she whispered meaningfully.