Chapter 12 Chapter Eleven
Suddenly it seemed to Ellery that it had been years since I had been happily waiting with Dijuna and my father in the Mass box at the stadium to see the show.He returned to the stadium with Police Officer Willie, and looked at his watch, it was already 4:10 am the next day.
"It's unbelievable," he asked Sergeant Willy, who was quietly walking beside him, "what would we do without Einstein? The old man showed us with incomparable Teutonic wisdom: how time really is." Vulnerability—how erratic is the place of time in all existence. 'The time before you is the eternity behind you'. I think you are not familiar with Boileau? That seventeenth-century literature Critics also complained helplessly that 'time flies, we are far behind...'"
"It's so literal," said Inspector Willie, with a sudden chuckle.
Ellery immediately fell silent.
What they found - what an incredible miracle! ——The countless seats on the high and wide stands of the oval stadium were still full of people and voices a few hours ago, but now they are empty and dead silent!Except for the garbage left on the passage, there are almost no signs of being swept by the mighty crowd.The guards at the many exits have been removed, and the side doors are quietly closed.Everything was done with record-breaking efficiency.
Except for some police officers, detectives, a few worried citizens and employees of the stadium standing in the middle of the venue, the entire building was almost empty.
"Did you find anything?" Officer Quinn asked hoarsely when Ellery and Willie came to the center of the field.His face was blue and his face was extremely tired.Still, the eager anticipation for clues sustains him.
"Nothing but this," Ellery said, drawing the second of Horne's pair of revolvers.Officer Quinn grabbed it in his hand.
"Empty," he said to himself, "and one of a pair, all right. Why did he leave it in the room?" Ellery patiently recounted the interrogation at the hotel. Fan.
"Ah, that makes sense. Any other discoveries?"
"Not a single note, not a single letter," the police officer reported.
"There was a visitor," Ellery recounted the response of the front desk clerk at the Barclay Hotel.Hearing the waiter's absurd lack of observation, Officer Quinn reacted exactly as Ellery had expected—nearly beating his chest with rage.
"What's going on! That visitor is probably the murderer who killed Horn!" He yelled angrily, "But that bastard - he doesn't even remember the appearance of a visitor?"
"Says tall, big guy," Sergeant Willie added.
"what!"
Ellery seemed a little impatient for no reason, and he changed the subject: "Now, it's time for you to tell me what's going on here."
Officer Quinn gave a wry smile. "Nothing. We've cleared up the mob, as you can tell--just drove the last one out onto the street five minutes ago. No more . 25 automatic pistols. "
"No more .25s?" Ellery was a little surprised.
"A total of six or seven more guns were found, most of them in the last hour. I've sent them to Knowles at Headquarters. He just called me a few minutes ago. "
"How did you say it, how did you say it?"
"He said that of all the .25s we found from the audience that night, none of them fired and killed Horn!"
"No one?"
"No. The one that was used as the murder weapon has not been found yet."
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Ellery, kicking the dirt with his head down, "very well done. I knew it. I had a hunch it was going to be like this."
"Do you know what I'm going to do?" Police Officer Quinn asked in a flat tone with a depressed expression.
"I can guess."
"I'm going to turn this place upside down!"
Ellery rubbed his swollen temples: "Turn it if you like. Anyway, this place—this place has become the tomb of Morsolas! Go ahead and search thoroughly. I bet you can't find that one. Guns, I'd wager everything from Dijuna's donuts to the treasury's gold reserves."
"Stop babbling around here again!" yelled Officer Quinn. "That gun didn't leave the building. We checked it all the way. It couldn't have run off, could it? So it must be somewhere in the yard." place."
Ellery waved his hand irritably: "I admit that what you said is also logical, but you just can't find that gun!"
The effort of the diminutive, strong-willed Officer Quinn is so enormous, it might even be called heroic.There is no denying this.At this moment, Police Officer Quinn cheered up and immediately jumped up and mobilized his troops to take action.He divided the undercover agents into several groups.Constable Wiley leads a team to sweep the middle of the sports field; Agent Pigott leads a team to search the auditorium; It is to lead people to search all corners of the passages, corridors, storage rooms, operation holes, dustbins, etc.This is an extremely thorough large-scale professional search.Well-trained agents spread out quickly to get to work.Ellery stood there beating his aching head.
After Officer Quinn deployed the task of conducting a large-scale search, he began to investigate some minor details that he had no time to take care of at first.He summoned the gatekeepers at the east and west gates of the two performance venues.The confessions of the two men were very simple and did not provide any clues.They were all old circus employees, vouched by Crazy Bill Grant—no one could get through their lines and get into the arena undetected, and there was absolutely no way anyone would enter the arena without jeans—except at random. Mr. Hancock, the regiment doctor, with the exception of Danu Boone.Teddy Lines rode in in disguise, but he was the only one who escaped their view.But most importantly, the two old gatekeepers swore that no one would slip out through the gates they guarded after the murder.
On this basis, it seems that it is necessary to try to find out whether suspicious people have entered or exited the several small exits in the north-south direction of the site.There are quite a few of these outlets, and it is not easy to check them.But this conundrum was solved by Ellery - he pointed out: The arena is the place that is always in full view; and it is well known that the people on the arena from the moment Crazy Bill Grant announces the show until after the murder occurs There are a lot of them, and after repeated counting, no one has left the venue.
The search continues.Shocked and exhausted, cowboys and girls sit dejectedly on the field, with rows of black cowboy hat tops in sight.Officer Quinn questioned them both collectively and individually, but it was like talking to a stalagmite.The cowboys were hostile, indifferent, and indifferent.Seeing Police Officer Quinn's suspicious eyes, they avoided each one like turtles—silent, motionless, with dangerous emotional undercurrents lurking.
"Now I want you guys to tell me," Officer Quinn said loudly, "Did you find anything particularly suspicious when you were running around the field before the gunshot?"
No answer.They don't even look up.Shorty Duns--the bulging, taut-skinned monstrosity--was purposefully spitting a mouthful of spit right next to Sergeant Quinn.The yellow-brown phlegm landed on the ground about ten inches from Officer Quinn's feet with a "smack", forming a black dot on the runway, which seemed like a sign of protest.There was a commotion in the crowd, and the glances from it became darker and more menacing.
"Don't tell me, huh? Mr. Grant, come here." The old entertainer walked out of the crowd and stood in front of Officer Quinn.Ellery unexpectedly discovered that Major Kobe was among this group of people, and was secretly surprised—he was still here!Good boy, Ellery thought, the major was more of a party guy than he remembered.
"What's the matter?" Grant asked with a sigh.
"What's the matter?" Officer Quinn asked angrily.
"who knows."
Officer Quinn raised his veiny arm and pointed at one of the crowd and asked, "Do you know that man?"
Grant's face sank like mud, with a icy expression: "I know very well that none of them will be able to shoot Buck Horne black!"
"But you didn't answer my question."
"They're all my old regiments—" Grant said still coldly, and that coldness gave way to impenetrable hardness.A look of uneasiness flitted across his wide-open eyes. "They're all old employees," he repeated.
"Well, well, Mr. Grant, you're not going to fool an old man, are you?" Officer Quinn said leisurely, "You started saying that they were all old members, but you stopped suddenly. Why? Understand again But then it occurs to you that they're not all old regiments. Tell the truth!" Sergeant Quinn snapped. "Which one or others is new?"
The crowd was in a commotion for a while, and many angry eyes were cast on Officer Quinn.Grant stood still for a moment, then swung his arms and looked around.
"I just remembered," he said in a muffled voice, "but it's nothing, officer. I did accept a new one today..." The skinny Howarth, who was squatting in the front row, snorted disdainfully when he heard this, and Grant Suddenly his face changed.
"Who is it?" Officer Quinn asked.
Grant walked into the cowboys: "You, Miller," he said flatly, "stand outside."
The man with half of the purple scarred face stood up from the crowd, hesitated for a moment, and then walked out slowly.
Officer Quinn looked at his face, and quickly looked away.The messy scar on the left cheek of the man was really hideous and terrifying, making it hard to look at for a long time.The man was visibly frightened: his lips trembling, his smoldering, dark-brown teeth—with long trails of tobacco-coloured saliva hanging from the corners of his mouth—walked along snotty... Boon had evidently given He had changed his attire, and his jacket had been replaced by a brand new denim suit.
"I'm coming," he whispered, avoiding Grant's gaze.
The old entertainer licked his dry lips: "Officer, this is Benjamin Miller. I received it last evening, but let me tell you..."
"I'll ask myself. So, Miller, what can you say about yourself?"
The man blinked: "Me? About myself? Nothing, nothing. All I know is that poor old Buck is gone, sir. It's a dreadful thing, sir, with all the horses trampled off him Back then, poor Buck, he and I were old friends..."
"Hmph! So you do know Horn well, huh? Mr. Grant, why did you accept this man so late?"
"He came to me on Buck's recommendation, Sergeant," said Grant forcefully. "Buck asked me to get him a job, and I did."
"I've got nowhere to go, sir," said Miller, looking a little eager. "I've got a hard time. Haven't had a job for months. Came to try my luck in New York--heard Mr. Grant's rodeo troupe was in town-- I wanted to find a job with him. I heard that old Buck was there, and I remembered that we were old friends, so I went to him. He—he really didn’t tell me, and gave me a few dollars. Tell me to come to Mr. Grant. That's what it is, sir, and it's the truth, sir. And..."
Officer Quinn glanced at the man's slobbering mouth and said thoughtfully, "Okay, Miller, you go back to the team."
There was a sigh of relief in the squatting cowboy queue.Miller rattled back to where he was and sat down.
Then Officer Quinn said, "You, Woody, come here."
One-armed Woody sat motionless for a moment, then stood up and stepped out, the high heels of his boots thumping hollowly.A cigarette butt drooped between his thin lips, and a haughty smile slanted across his red-brown face.
"It's my turn, huh?" he said slyly. "Yeah, yeah! Almost got Woody the One-Armed tied up and sent to jail, huh? Don't you put me on me, sir!"
Officer Quinn laughed now: "Why are you talking like that, Woody? I haven't asked you a word yet. But since you think I'm trying to get you, I'll ask you some straightforward questions. You and There was a confrontation with Horn - I mean yesterday afternoon, after rehearsal - is that true?"
"Yeah, it's true," said Woody, sniffling. "So that means I killed him?"
"Of course not. But that doesn't mean you didn't kill him. You think Horn stole the jackpot from you, so you hold a grudge, don't you?"
"It's not just a grudge, I want to go crazy when I see him!" Woody admitted happily, "Now that I think about it, I really almost killed that old bastard at that time."
"Still a slob, huh?" Sergeant Quinn whispered. "Do you know Horn well?"
"I've known him for a long time."
"Where was your horse when the horses came in after Horne, Woody?"
"Front, center, side by side with Curly Grant. Listen, sir," Woody said with a smirk, "if you think I punched a hole in old Buck, you're out of the question I bet there were at least a thousand eyes on me at the time, and I was firing a gun into the air with the others, wasn't I? I had the gun up in my right arm, wasn't I? And I And no left arm, and the horse between the legs—is that true? Horne hit a .25, I shot a .45—right? Turn around , sir, you guessed the wrong way."
The center of the field gradually became empty.The cowboys were also divided into men's and women's teams; the women's team was taken to the basement to be searched, and the men's team stayed where they were.Not a single .25 was recovered from anyone.So they were escorted out of the gymnasium and returned en masse to their hotel.
Employees of the Oval itself were searched, again no such guns were found, and they were also sent out and sent home.
Other employees of Grant's Riding Company--including bow-legged Boone--were searched after the livestock had been groomed, and no .25s were found either.So they were sent out the gate too.
All external exit gates of the stadium are locked.Only Mars, Grant, Major Kobe and some police officers stayed on the field.
Ellery walked along the runway, thinking about the repeated failures of the weapon detection, nodding solemnly from one thought to the next.
At the invitation of Mas, a group of people came upstairs and sat down in the office of the competitive sports advocate, without saying a word for a while.Mars went out to do some work and came back with some sandwiches and a pitcher of coffee.The crowd gratefully quenched their hunger—but still had nothing to say.
After a while, the reports came one after another.The first report was from the tall and shy Piggott.
He coughed out of breath and said, "The auditorium—everything—cleaned up, officer."
"The trash can was overturned, too?"
"Yes, officer."
"Nothing found?"
"did not find."
"Take your people home and go rest."
Piggott left quietly.
The second report came five minutes later when Rhett, the largest of Sergeant Quinn's men, came up and said, "Lobby, basement, storeroom, sentry box, passage and hallway cleared," he said in a buzzing voice, " Nothing was found, officer."
Officer Quinn waved him away irritably.
Rhett turned and almost stepped on Hesse who was walking in the door, and the slow guy looked even slower now.
"We have searched all the dressing-rooms thoroughly and thoroughly, Inspector," he recounted slowly, "every drawer, every nook and cranny; stables, harnesses, pens, closets, Rest room, office...but nothing was found."
"Have you searched the room, Jesse?"
"Search, officer, it's no different from any other room."
Officer Quinn groaned in frustration; Mars put his feet on the clean and shiny tabletop without blinking: "Okay, Jesse... Ah, Thomas!"
The big police officer Willie walked in with heavy steps, and the whole room seemed to tremble for a while.The hard lines of his face seemed to have softened with heat.He sank down on a chair and looked at his officer expressionlessly.
"Hi, hi Thomas, how's it going?"
"The whole site was scoured," Willie said, "every square inch. I'm exhausted. We even raked it out, hell! And dug pretty deep under the soil just to be sure... No gun was found, officer."
"Huh—" Officer Quinn let out an annoyed breath.
"But we found this." Willie said, taking out an irregularly shaped metal object from his pocket.
Everyone jumped up at the same time and rushed to the table.
"Cass!" exclaimed Sergeant Quinn. "God, it's an important thing—there's no gun but a shell!" He snatched the thing from the officer's hand and looked eagerly closer.It was a piece of metal that looked like copper, almost flattened, and covered with signs of damage—clear kicking, trampling, and rubbing.The concave part is also embedded with spots of mud stains - obviously the dirt of the sports field.
"Where did you find it, Thomas?"
"Found it on the field. Embedded an inch deep in the soil, like someone stepped in. It was about five yards from the runway—I think—near Mas's box . . . on the field. southeast corner of the
"Well, Major, is this a .25 case?"
Major Bryant glanced at the piece of metal skin, "There is no doubt about it."
"In the southeast corner of the field," murmured Inspector Quinn, "what a queer thing. What does it mean? It's useless!"
"The way I see it," Grant blinked, "is that the location where the casings were found is very important, officer."
"Really? It's so important that it doesn't necessarily explain the problem. How can we be sure that the place where Officer Willie found the shell casing is the place where the murderer shot?" Officer Quinn shook his head and said, "Look— — all smashed, must have been kicked around in the arena. Of course, it must have been dropped by someone in the arena, but it could have been thrown from the audience, or from some box There's no way of judging, Grant, it doesn't mean anything."
"Yeah," Ellery said in a small voice, "I totally agree with you... Lord, isn't that so confusing!" They all turned to look at him together, "A thirteen An ounce, four-and-a-half-inch object cannot disappear into thin air, you know. It must still be here!"
But the fact is that, despite all the detectives using all the efforts they have received through rigorous training, they searched all corners regardless of size, and rummaged through all possible and impossible places where guns were hidden. · Horn's .25 automatic pistol is still missing.
The facts are so clearly and brutally before them.Everywhere was scoured—literally, nothing escaped being searched.From the most suspicious premises and objects to soil layers on the runway, seats up and down, disassembled wooden floors, offices, lockers, writing desks, safes, all corridors, water troughs for drinking horses, wooden fences, armories, blacksmiths Furnaces, cast iron rooms, all sentry boxes, storage rooms, all containers, boxes, storage baskets, all safety passages, inspection holes, all approaches, corridors, passages, all suspicious gaps, roofs...
All in all, there doesn't seem to be anything that might be missing.Even the sidewalks outside the stadium walls were scoured—in case the gun was tossed out the window above the stands.
"There seems to be only one answer," said Tony Mars, frowning. "It's been taken off the field by a guy who was here last night."
"Nonsense!" cried Sergeant Quinn. "I guarantee it's impossible. Every pocket, every handbag, every thing that can hold anything can't escape being searched. There's no way anyone can get out with it. That's as clear as that. Mr. Mass, no, it must still be in your building... Mass - don't laugh for God's sake - did you oversee the construction of this stadium yourself?"
"What? Of course it is."
"You—have you set up some secret passages or some weird mechanisms?" Officer Quinn asked with a blushing face.
Maas smiled wryly and said, "If you can find a hole in this concrete building, officer, I'd rather go in and let you throw gas bombs at me if you want. If you want, I can put I'll show you the architectural blueprint."
"Forget it, don't mention it," Police Officer Quinn hurriedly explained, "It's just a moment of desperation and helplessness..."
"Anyway, I was trying to find those blueprints." Maas went to the safe on the wall--it had already been thoroughly searched--and took out rolls of architectural blueprints.Officer Quinn had no choice but to walk over and follow.Others also gathered around to watch.
Half an hour passed, and Officer Willie, who was sent to search the premises proposed by Marth to hide things, returned empty-handed. Officer Quinn rolled up the drawings and stroked his forehead with trembling palms.
"This night should be enough, God, my head can't take it! Can anyone tell me what time it is?" Mars raised the dark blue curtains, and the bright morning light poured in through the window, "Okay, we Better get some sleep, too, I think..."
"Did you notice," Ellery whispered, standing behind a thin screen of smoke, "that there were two additional members of the stadium who hadn't been searched?"
Officer Quinn was taken aback when he heard the sound: "What do you mean?"
Ellery walks up to Tony Mars and Crazy Bill Grant: "Please don't take it personally, gentlemen..."
"You mean Mars and Grant?" Police Officer Quinn laughed, "I searched them a long time ago, and I searched them myself."
"You can search again if you like," said Grant coldly.
"That might be a good idea, old man. Go ahead, Thomas. No offense, Tony."
In a moment of silence, Officer Willie completed the search of the two.The result is still the same, and everyone knows that it will only be the result.
"Good night," said Mars wearily. "I suppose you're going to seal off the playground, sir?"
"Until we find that gun."
"That's good... goodbye."
He left, and slowly closed the door behind him.
The major stood up. "I think I must go too," he said. "Is there anything else I can do, gentlemen?"
"It's all right, Major," said Sergeant Quinn, "thanks."
"I see," said Ellery, laughing, "that you intend to stay till the end. I don't mean to reproach you, Major, especially under the circumstances. And besides, may I speak to you privately?" ?”
Kobe froze for a moment: "Of course."
Ellery walked down the aisle with the major: "Listen, Major, you can be of great help to us," he said eagerly, "what you've done and what you'll do. Can your company Provide a little convenience?"
"Certainly—if you mean news."
"Maybe, maybe not," Ellery shrugged. "Anyway, can you show me the documentary filmed last night?"
"Oh! Of course, when?"
"Er—ten o'clock in the morning. I've got to sleep for a few hours first. And, I guess you'll have to rest yourself, too."
The little major smiled lazily: "Oh, I'm a night owl. We'll be ready for you before ten o'clock, Mr. Quinn." He smiled and shook hands with Ellery to say goodbye, and then walked down the stairs with steady steps.
Ellery returned to the office.At the door he almost bumped into Grant, who was going out.The old artist mumbled something, as if saying goodbye, and staggered downstairs.
Ellery walked into Mars' office and startled his father, who was putting on his coat. "Come on, Dad!" he yelled. "Get someone to keep an eye on Grant!"
"Watching Grant? You mean, watching Grant's tail?" said the old man, blinking. "What's that for?"
"Don't ask just now, Dad! Please! It's really important!"
Officer Quinn nodded to Officer Willie, and Willie disappeared quietly immediately.
Officer Quinn ran out again and called him back: "Wait, Thomas. How much surveillance, Ellery?"
"Complete monitoring! Any actions of Grant at any time - the phone calls must be monitored; the correspondence must be intercepted, opened and read and recorded in detail; any communication with anyone must be reported."
"Got it, Thomas? But do it naturally, and don't make Grant suspicious."
"Of order." Willie finished, and disappeared through the door for the second time.
Only Quinn and his son were left in the huge building; several main agents were waiting for them on the sidewalk outside the sports field.
"Well," said Sergeant Quinn muffled, "I think you know what you're going to do. But God knows I don't know what your idea is?"
"Vague. Didn't you take the same forensic measures against Kit Horn?"
"It was done as you suggested. But I can swear on it—I have no idea why."
Ellery tucked his neck into the collar of his coat: "Who knows?" He straightened the pince-nez and put his arm around his father's shoulders, "Go away, Prospero, I tell you, we The ultimate success of the case depends on our ability to hang like shadows on the heels of that eccentric character Crazy Bill Grant and bright movie star Kit Horn!"
Officer Quinn snorted.He has long been accustomed to playing tricks on his son.
Notes:
Notes: