Chapter 14 Chapter Eleven: The Whip of the Hunt

Despite being in a position to accept almost anything, James Bennett felt that this last prank had gone too far.Everyone looked illusory, as if wearing a mask. Plus Sir Henry Merrillville came, and somehow he managed to come, and his presence, like a burden, gave you an indescribable feeling that everything would be settled now.Other than James Bennett felt that way too.Let the impossible keep happening, and that's okay. After a moment of silence, Maurice Bohun moved forward, and Masters grabbed him by the arm. "Oh no! . . . " said Masters. "Better stay where you are. I'll answer the phone."

Morris froze.He murmured: "I hope His Royal Highness Carney Fest, the police officer, has expressed the slightest desire to talk to you..." "I said..." Masters repeated invariably, "I'll answer the phone." He deliberately pushed Maurice Bohun away, which nearly pushed him across the corridor; and then, James Bennett found himself grabbed by the arm, as if under arrest, as Masters trotted down the corridor. "What I want to tell you is... Come here, Thompson, let's go and see Sir Henry... What I want to tell you about H.M. is that you sent him a telegram."

"I sent him a telegram?" "Now, now, no time for arguing, this way. He's off today for Christmas. If I try to make contact with him, he'll just growl—really growl, not the usual nonsense— —he refuses to take part in the case. But, after all, he has feelings for many things—although he would kill you if you testified against him—one of which is family. You are his nephew, and if you In trouble, and he just happens to be here..." Masters said excitedly, holding James Bennett's hand tightly, "that's it. He called last night to ask about you. When the case happened this morning , I feel that this will be the biggest case that happened to me, and it is also the first case I encountered after I was promoted to this position. I have to solve it beautifully, but this is not a case I am good at. So, first of all I'm here—see what a young man you are." Masters breathed hard.He tried to be dignified, but unsuccessfully, "You look like the kind of guy who would support me in—well...well! If I'm doing it for justice, I'm going for the truth. That's it—justice. So, when When you came upstairs, after I saw you for the first time... eh?" Masters gestured.

James Bennett whistled and said: "I'm beginning to understand—you sent him a telegram in my name saying I'm in trouble? What kind of trouble should I be in? . . . Won't tell him I'm charged with murder, will you?" "Ah!... No, how could I say that, now, how?..." Masters smiled wryly and shook his head again and again, "As soon as he comes here, he will find out the truth. I didn't elaborate. What was the trouble, I couldn't think of anything at the time. But then, excuse me," Masters looked around, "I saw you looking at Miss Catherine Bohun. . . . Well, now!  … Eh? So I'll justify it, which is if..."

The defense said: the sheriff was kind and friendly to a stranger, ignored the system and took the initiative to talk to the stranger about the case, his judgment on Catherine, and his... "If you say you want to help her out, she's worried about it. Needs help. Eh? You'll support me, won't you?" They reached the end of a wide, low, railed staircase.Thompson, handset in hand, walked ahead to the landing, where the stairs turned to the right and turned into the hall below.Sir Henry Merrillville's roar rose slowly from the hall. "You don't know, eh? . . . " boomed Sir Henry Merrillville. "Well . . . why don't you know? Step aside, there, and let me see him. Ah, er, yes ..."

"May I ask, sir," screamed Dr. Wynn, "who are you and what do you mean? Are you by chance a doctor?" "Well, I like the color of blood, no foam and no . Gone. The bullet misses all the vitals. Tell you for free, you look like an expert, take him out, no problem at all. Luckily it's not the bullet deforming. Look at it, raise it up here. Huh, what kind of house is this, hey ? You walk in the door and you meet a damn stretcher coming down the stairs..." A bitter remark was exchanged, which caused Sir Henry Merrillville to growl in contempt.Masters grabs James Bennett's arm with a consulting look on his face.

"How?..." he insisted. "Of course I'll support you," said the other, "but you'll have to go down to appease him, and I'll go down after you've explained everything, and his voice sounds like he's fighting an enemy. Listen to me, Masters, that old boy It really is..." "Worthy, for police work?" Masters added. "Look at him! . . . " Masters hurried to the platform and grabbed the microphone.James Bennett leaned on the railing, wanting to hear what Masters said to His Royal Highness Carneyfest at the end.His Royal Highness Carneyfest was obviously still alive, but Masters used the journalist's trick, muttering to himself, to transmit the voice to the other end of the phone, and the eavesdropper was not smart enough.

Hearing footsteps in the corridor behind him, James Bennett looked back with shame. Jarvis Willard and Maurice Bohun were looking at him. "It seems," observed Maurice Bohun, "that my guests are as strange as the telephone calls to me. It is an unexpected honor to have Sir Henry Merrillville at the cottage. Dead men call me, and more It is an extraordinary honor... To be precise, what is the latest news in this incident, may I ask?" Maurice Bohun's face was impassive, but his voice trembled. "Good news, sir. I'm fairly sure you'll call it that, because your brother is recovering."

"Thank God! . . . " said Willard. "Why did he do it, Maurice? Why? . . . " For a moment, an almost deformed anger flashed across Maurice Bohun's face, a pale and terrible anger. "Brother has a queer conscience. I...er... guess you'll allow me to go and see the visitors from my house? Thank you very much, I'm going downstairs." As he walked, he twisted his shoulders and beat the railing with his cane all the way. "What happened?" James Bennett whispered to the actor. "Mr. Bohun, I mean? . . . Did he just come here, go to his room, and . . . ?"

"As far as I know, yes," said Jarvis Willa, wiping his eyes. "I don't exactly know what happened. The last time I saw him, he said he was going to have breakfast. I went upstairs and met Miss Catherine Bohun, she wanted to come downstairs for some coffee and asked me if I would go to her room and stay with Miss Carraway. She went elsewhere to change and that was the last time I saw her until... ...Well, until you all go upstairs. Come here for a while." He looked around and dragged James Bennett to the corner of the corridor, which was a side corridor leading to a bay window.Jarvis Wella is no longer the breezy, determined guy who looks old.His hands fumbled with his eyes as if he needed a pair of glasses.

"Tell me," he said, "have you...asked for assistance from higher ups?" "No! I swear not." James Bennett smiled wryly and shook his head, "I seem to be just a puppet, used by them to accomplish different purposes..." "This Sir Henry Merrillville is your uncle, do I understand? Do you know him well?" "Yesterday was the first time I met him in my life." James Bennett smiled, he paused, and asked, "What's wrong?..." "Do you think..." Jarvis Willard asked quietly, "that someone could get away with lying to him? . . . I'll tell you why I ask. The edge of Calaway's bed, where she kept blaming herself for killing Martha Tate." James Bennett turned his head.There was something strange about Jarvis Willa's expression that made him look hypnotized.He tried to think about that look, what reminded him of something, a dark memory, something Willa had said this morning; "We poor old brutes, crawling through the paper rings to get to the high ground, but whenever the rules were broken, she used to fire blank shells at us." Finally, he understood what Jarvis Willa's strange tawny eyes had reminded him of, something prowling in a cage. "You don't mean," James Bennett heard himself say, "that she admits that she...?" "I don't know, it was a kind of insanity. I guessed, and found out later, that she had taken an overdose of some kind of sleeping pill—but I'll tell you later." Jarvis Willa shook hesitantly. I shook my head, "I sat there, thinking about when Dr. Wynn would come in. He said you mentioned something about her illness. But when he was seeing her, I approached the bed, and then, my foot kicked Got something under the bed—it was a hunting whip, the heavy end was silver, filled with lead, and shaped like a dog's head..." "Nonsense! That's not her room, it's..." James Bennett pleaded anxiously. "Yes, that's Kate's? Yes, I know." Jarvis Willa looked up and down James Bennett with a hint of curiosity, "But, last night, while screaming in the corridor, Lu Louise had it, and then I found out she passed out. That's what I didn't tell the detective. Anyway, honestly, how do I put it?" He struggled with words, and With a gesture, as if to drive them away, "Honestly, I don't want to put my neck in the reins. But Louise...she's harmless, bro!..." Jarvis Willa emphasized excitedly, "That's all, I don't want to mention it at all. When I found her, she was wearing some kind of field jacket over her pajamas, and the whip was tucked in the pocket." "Kate knows this?" James Bennett asked.He was beginning to remember things.He remembered the girl's slip of the tongue, saying Martha Tate had been whipped to death, though she immediately denied it and backed off, "She knew?" "Yeah. When I walked into the room this morning, the blouse was out of sight; however, Kate seemed to see me as some sort of accomplice. Anyway, I'll tell you, my feet touched the bottom of the bed." I didn't dare to get Wynn's attention - so I kicked it deep under the bed. But when Wynn was there, Louise yelled something, to the effect that she tried to Pushing Martha down the stairs..." He sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah, I know that looks awful. So Wynn went on feeding her the emetic without saying a word. After that, she Seeming to be sleeping more comfortably, he said he had something to tell me. With a weird look on his face, he pulled me into the hallway. While we're going out, by the way..." Jarvis Willa wrinkled Frowning, biting his fingers, as if he didn't remember much, "Now I remember, someone was on the platform, talking on the phone in a slightly louder voice, repeating: 'In the waterside, in the waterside, I'll tell you'. I will remember , because he was talking so loudly, I was going to go over and tell him to shut up. But Wynn said, 'That's Regg so-and-so. I left him in the library and told him to have a good time with the officer, now I guess he's paralyzed again. He's very drunk.'" "When did this happen?" James Bennett asked. "When we went to the dining room, we put him on a couch in the library. I swear he passed out unconscious." "I don't know, maybe it was about fifteen minutes after Wynn came to see Louise... In short, Wynn said: There are some important things to tell me." Jarvis Willa frowned, looked out the window and said , "They seem to regard me as everyone's guardian and priest. At this time, the voice of the phone stopped. Dr. Wynn pulled me to the place where we are standing now, just about to speak, ready to pile up medical terms , said something that didn't make sense to me, and then we heard gunshots... "My God, friend, what a dreadful feeling! . . . " complained Jarvis Willard in horror, "I think we were both thinking of Louise. We looked at each other and ran to Louise's room. Luckily she was fine, sitting on the bed, seemed to have recovered, though still trembling a bit, maybe; but very quiet, apologetic, as usual, and the frenzy seemed to have disappeared. She Say, 'What's that sound?' And then, 'Why am I in this room?...' The next thing we hear, the rest of you are running upstairs. You know the rest." Jarvis Willa sat by the window on the slanted wall, looking a little shaken. Although he finished telling the story he decided to tell, he unconsciously put one hand on his hip and lowered his head.James Bennett heard his breathing. "If," he added after a moment, "the police suspect her—suspiciously doubt her words! . . . " He turned his head away.Catherine Bohun was coming down the corridor.She said: "I saw them use that dead body thing to carry John away. I also heard them talking, at least I heard someone from the upstairs window who said with certainty that John would not die. Yes Really?" James Bennett took her hand and responded with slow emphatic tones, and he saw the fear in her eyes fade away.She shivered slightly, like a person who just came back from a cold place and gradually adapted to warmth. "How funny! . . . " said Catherine Bohun thoughtfully, "but one of the things I'm happy about. It's a good thing he did it that way . . . " "Happy?..." Jarvis Willa frowned. "Because he's not going to try again, is he?" Catherine Bohun said. "When he wakes up from his coma, he'll start to realize these things. He's doing it for...for her, he'll Suddenly realizing it's not worth it. I don't think I'll be able to articulate myself, it's just that kind of behavior..." She clasped her hands on her chest, recoiled at her thoughts, not her behavior, "That's it, you see , will make him never try again." Jarvis Willa looked out of the window at the plain white snow.With a deep voice that slowly gathered echoes, he said absently: "Purge the dangerous things that are pressing on your heart, from your full bosom..." After a while, the voice rose with terrible power. He leaned feebly on the chair by the window.Jarvis Wella turned and smiled. "It's a strong treatment, Kate," said Jarvis Wella, nodding. "How's Louise? . . . Is she better?" "She came downstairs not long ago. That's what I wanted to ask you." There was a silence. "I think it's best to tell her what the police think." "Yes, anyway..." Jarvis Willa nodded in agreement, "Did she say anything?" "No!……" Catherine Bohun looked at James Bennett and said imploringly: "Let's go downstairs again and speak to Mr. Masters. I... I hope you're there." Thompson said last night , a woman left the main house, and you were there, and now Mrs. Thompson is probably swearing on it," Catherine Bohun said, frowning. I can prove it's not Louise. Will you come with me?" Before the other party could answer, Catherine Bohun turned around.A sudden wave of terror seized James Bennett, which kept him staring at her until Catherine Bohun was out of sight, but at the bottom of the stairs he overtook her again. The dark corridors still stink of smoke, and there are even uglier signs on the oak and frayed red carpet.James Bennett, holding on to the post, blocked Catherine Bohun's downward direction.Then he asked quietly: "That person is not you, is it?..." Suddenly James Bennett felt a pulse throbbing in his arm behind the elbow.He kept staring at the bruise on Catherine Bohun's throat, which was only partially covered by the gauze.She almost cried in answer. "Oh, what if? What's the difference?" "No, it's just that we have to tell some advanced lies..." "Lying to the police?" "To Jarvis, if necessary..." James Bennett was careful not to speak too loudly, suppressing the urge to shout. Catherine Bohun tried to walk past him, pushing away James Bennett's hand on the post.As James Bennett bent over to get more steady, he felt a soft cheek brush against his face. The two backed away from each other for an instant, as if they were stabbed by something. Looking at Catherine Bohun's slightly parted lips, James Bennett realized that his heart was beating even harder.He continued: "What difference does it make, what you do? ... I just want to tell you wisely that we need to make up a good story and never change it..." "I'm not saying I killed her, I just might! . . . " Catherine Bohun trembled. "I'm jealous of her, and wish someone would kill her. That's a good way of saying it, isn't it? I did what was in my heart." Think about it, almost as bad. Let me down. It won't make a difference..." "First of all, I have something to tell you first. Downstairs Masters was with a man, one of my uncles, who had gained a reputation for evil because of his astonishing insight. Masters used me, Called him over. He borrowed my name, saying that because I was interested in you..." "What are you talking about?" Catherine Bohun's eyes widened in surprise. "'Interesting.' Is that the word they use in this situation? Well, that's the word. Assume I'm 'interesting' to you, assuming you like anything. Just how 'interesting,' I don't know yet Told you that the whole house was poisoned because of a murder here, and less than an hour ago, someone you remember your whole life tried to commit suicide in your home. I can still smell the gunpowder from the gun, so we Two people, dare not talk about love here. But the house will not be poisoned forever, God have mercy, you are the most lovely person I have ever met, and maybe you will soon understand why I Thought so!... So, if, for whatever reason, you put yourself in a disadvantageous situation, but what you do - whatever it is, is fine - is irrelevant, and, in the future It doesn't matter, just don't do stupid things like confession." "I know!..." After a long silence, Catherine Bohen nodded and said, "I am very happy that you said what you did," her eyes were wet, "You...you...!" "That's right! . . . " said James Bennett, smiling and nodding. "Now, stand still! . . . Now, let's go downstairs."

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