Chapter 15 Chapter Fourteen Hesitating

In this city where the fifth administrative district is an important place for the capital, it was a busy afternoon.The Criminal Investigation Department and the Criminal Police Department, which have a large organization and loose personnel, discuss important cases together, but apart from comforting themselves with the immortal slogan of the police world, everyone is helpless.The old saying is: there will always be a day when the truth will be revealed.This sentence has very good semantics in Old English.But in their business it means a period of helpless waiting.However, precisely because the actions were fruitless and the investigations found nothing, this so-called "waiting period" was actually a period full of frenzied, intense, and persistent investigative operations.This kind of action is often passive; but at the same time, the truth that is about to "come to light" is also sneaking in its own specific time limit—perhaps the so-called psychological time limit.Most sensible detectives tend to adopt a conservative equanimity during this frenzied and ineffective operation—a sort of resignation.Action is pure physical exertion, just to meet the professional requirements of conscientiousness.

Ellery Queen knew the situation well, and he had no routine duties, so he settled down and waited patiently.However, the venerable Police Officer Quinn is responsible for maintaining law and order in the city. For this reason, he receives a salary of 5,900 US dollars from the Department of Finance every year. The high pressure of the current police chief.Mr. Chief was enjoying his vacation on the sunny beach in Florida, when he was suddenly lured back to the police station by the sensational news of Horn's tragedy, a wonderful vacation was ruined, and he was full of anger on Officer Quinn's head No wonder.

Under the roar of thunder, Officer Quinn was speechless, and could only listen to the training with a gray face.Back to his criminal investigation department, he regained his smooth conversation and ruddy complexion.It was a difficult period of adjustment for all the characters involved in this story. Routine business is carried out step by step.Buck Horn's activities in the weeks leading up to his death were repeatedly investigated, so that the detectives of the criminal investigation team grew impatient with writing such reports frequently. "Just write one and copy it by a dozen." Ray Te complained.Rhett was naturally a whiner at every turn, but this time it was fair to say he wasn't to blame; for the twelfth report was not much different from the first.The life of the victim in his last weeks was as simple as Mathilta, Queen of Denmark; I also cross-examined with old acquaintances one by one, and the confessions were all ordinary and irrelevant; the telephone hotlines between Wyoming and New York and between Hollywood and New York were interspersed with questions and answers, and the final result was still a zero.

It seems that the problem can at least be concluded in this way-there is no one in the world who has the motive to claim Buck Horn's life.The one-armed Woody was, of course, the notable exception, and his handicap removed him cleanly from the list of sole suspects. As for the mysterious person who visited Horn at the Barclay Hotel on the night when Horn was shot dead, there is still no whereabouts after a difficult search, and it is still a mystery. All exits from the oval are still padlocked.The reason why this blockade has not been lifted is precisely because of the stubborn persistence of Officer Quinn and the growing anger of Chief Wallace.Because the automatic pistol that fired the hideous bullet that caused Horne's heart to stop had not been found, the search for the stadium continued.Crazy Bill Grant wept and cursed at the press conference, vowing that he would never bring his riding troupe to New York, a place of right and wrong.Officer Quinn dutifully and truthfully reported the artist's dissatisfaction to the director, who just shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

Investigation continues.They conducted exhaustive investigations, interactive investigations, repeated investigations, etc. on the citizens involved in the Horn case. It seems that the workload is huge, but in fact there is no benefit.The only inquiry that made any progress was that of Buck Horne's money.When a reporter asked about it, Officer Quinn became vague.He didn't want to answer (or couldn't), despite the mysteries his agents were still conducting in this area.The reporter's question is this: Why did the victim withdraw cash in small denominations of 3,000 yuan from the bank two days before the incident?And the whereabouts of the money are still unknown?

This question is to the point, but (seems) very difficult to answer. During the waiting period, Ellery seemed to be really at ease, throwing himself into relaxed social activities.This may be his first attempt at an indulgent lifestyle since graduation.He put on a camphor-smelling tuxedo and walked out onto the glamorous dance floor.Laundry bills were inflated by the heavy washing of vests and polo shirts.He came home later and later, often crashing into the door of Quinn's apartment on West Eighty-seventh Street in the wee hours of the morning, reeking of alcohol.Due to the great physical exertion, he slept extremely soundly and adequately.This is of course also due to the potency of alcohol.When he wakes up in the morning, he drinks a large cup of espresso to restore the sobriety of his brain and the flexibility of his tongue.The dutiful and well-behaved Di Juna couldn't get used to it, and couldn't help complaining.

"I've got enough of the rules," Ellery snorted, "God, we're all martyrs!" Officer Quinn, who was busy peeling eggs, sniffed his nose angrily; he looked at his son with worried eyes typical of a father. "What are you going to do after tossing around until midnight every day?" He asked sternly, "Do you want to be a playboy for me?" "In terms of purpose, yes, and no," replied Ellery, "in terms of purpose--a lot of reasons. I'm getting to know the characters better and better. How dramatic, Dad! Take the Hunts Come on..."

"What are you mentioning them for?" Officer Quinn reprimanded, "I'm too lazy to listen to them." But in any case, Ellery had actually begun to approach the people he'd met in Mars's box.He spends a lot of time hanging around Kit Horn, who moves between social activities, with a forced smile on his face, and a repulsive indifference and depth in his forced tender gaze. Thinking about testing.Ellery often accompanied Kit in and out of nightclubs; the Grants were rarely around.The most frequented by several people is the wonderful Mara nightclub.There, you can have a unique opportunity to observe that Hollywood orchid up close—that is, the graceful and slightly sick Mara Gay, and her big boss husband—Julian Hunt.Ellery even bumped into Tony Mars on several occasions.Also, there were two unexpected occasions when gangs of cowboys from Grant's Riding Order were spotted here drinking in gangs - they drank as much as Julian Hunt's waiter served.During this period, nightclubs presented an illusion of conviviality day and night, artificially concealing something cruel and real.Ellery spends his time here day after day, puffing, chatting and laughing, and doing everything he does like sleepwalking.

However, his sanity sneaked beneath the surface.It is impossible for him to spend every second in this circle of new friends.Every morning, he quietly appeared at the Police Headquarters, carefully reading the various investigation records against Kit Horn and Crazy Bill Grant, and keeping them for future reference. In Grant's daily follow-up report, he was somewhat annoyed to find that the old western man was almost innocent and impeccable.He hoped to collect all-round information on Grant, including his daily activities, personnel exchanges, and external contacts, by setting up various criminal investigation methods to grasp his clues, but now it seems that it is all in vain.Grant drank and drank, took care of the riding regiment--which was certainly not a worry-free thing--and kept an eye on his sons Curley and Kit's behavior; Reopening gymnasiums and allowing his riding troupe to resume performances.

There was something worth looking at about Kit's report.The girl's repulsive eye nerves proved that there were indeed other connotations and ulterior motives.One of the agents sent to watch her reported that something strange and interesting happened suddenly that morning: One night, a few days after the murder, plainclothes detectives followed Kit from the Barclay Hotel to the Mara nightclub.The slender and dark Kit was wearing a snow-white evening dress. He asked the foreman coldly and stiffly, "Is Mr. Hunter in?" "Yes, Miss Horn. He's in the office. Would you like me to--"

"No, thanks. I'll find him myself." She walked along the rows of private seats and walked to the door of the luxurious private room reserved by Hunter at the back of the bar.The detective saved his coat and hat, followed her to the back, sat down at the table and chairs closest to the private room, and ordered a glass of whiskey mixed with ice water.It was still early, and customers were already gathering in the nightclub; Hunter's famous jazz band had already started playing music with wild African charm; couples also slid face to face into the dark dance floor; It provides a good cover for the detective's observation. He got up from the table and continued to watch Kit Horn. He saw her raise her hand to knock on a door marked Mr. Hunter's private use on the lintel; after a while, the door opened, and the light from the room reflected the well-dressed figure of Hunter. "Miss Horn!" he heard Hunter exclaim excitedly, "Come in, come in. It's great to see you. I—" And the door closed. The agent looked around.There was hardly a shadow of the waiter around, and no one noticed him.So he put his ear to the door and listened intently. Can't hear the specific dialogue, only a little cadence can be heard. This detective is also a highly trained professional, and eavesdropping is his special skill; he claims that he can accurately judge the content of people's conversations based on their expressions and gestures when their conversations are extremely difficult to hear or cannot be distinguished at all.So his report was simply written as a subjective psychological analysis. "It was just a general greeting at first," he wrote in his report. "Miss Horn's tone sounded calm, as if she was waiting for something, and she seemed to be prepared and confident. Hunter's voice was high-pitched, He could hear the friendly attitude, but it also seemed hypocritical and malicious. His voice was a little hoarse, and he coughed hard. I felt that they were going around in circles, as if they didn't know how to get to the point. Later, Miss Horn became anxious, and her voice became more and more serious. Taller, sharper and sharper. The words are clanging and resounding. It seems that there is a showdown with Hunter on something. Hunter can't care about his friendly attitude, and his tone becomes cold and stiff, and he sneers from time to time. The more he speaks, the more urgent, suddenly It slowed down, then became fast again, and the occasional sneer seemed to cover up her embarrassment. She didn't seem to notice it, because she was also impulsive. I made a quick judgment and thought they might be fighting. I was I wanted to rush in, but suddenly I heard them stop arguing. So I quickly hid in a dark place a little far away from the door to listen to the movement. After a while, the door suddenly opened wide, and Miss Horne rushed out. I could clearly see Her face was very pale, her eyes were burning with anger, her lips were tightly shut, and her breathing was rapid. She walked past me angrily, but did not see me. Hunter stood at the door for a minute or two, watching her back Until she disappeared into the darkness. I couldn't see his face, but in the light from his side I could see his fists white with clenched knuckles. Then he turned back to the office. Miss Horne called a car The taxi went back to Barclay Hotel and never came out in the middle of the night." Officer Quinn reached for a telephone receiver: "Finally something happened," Officer Quinn said bitterly, "I have to find out what kind of tricks are playing here! God, that little western goblin who made you crazy !" Ellery rushed over and held down his hand that dialed the phone: "Dad! Don't!" Officer Quinn asked in astonishment, "What? What is this for?" "Please don't call," Ellery said urgently. "You're going to mess things up. For God's sake, put the phone down. Just hold on. We can't afford to lose . . . " Officer Quinn turned back and asked breathlessly: "What's this called? What's the sacred use of sending out detectives to keep an eye on you all day long, huh? Discovered the situation, but—but didn't take any action?" "It's kind of incoherent," Ellery laughed—he knew he had won the round, "but nonetheless, there's a good point in what you're asking. Here's why: Before I ask you to At the time of the surveillance, I had no idea that there was an entanglement between Hunter and Kit Horn." "Even if it's what you say," said Constable Quinn sarcastically, "then there's something unexpected about you, then? Well, now that we've found out that Hunter had some sort of conflict with that girl, what's the matter?" Still missing the opportunity? Maybe new clues will be dug out of it?" "I'll tell you why. I don't underestimate the possible importance of this unexpected relationship between those two," Ellery said. Either side will get the truth out of their mouths; and secondly—and this is a matter of make or break at present—that would give away our cards.” "What cards?" "As a matter of fact, Kit Horn is under surveillance, isn't it?" Ellery said patiently. "Once the girl knows she's being watched, we'll lose..." "what?" Ellery shrugged: "What's the use of going in to investigate this matter? I admit that we may lose some clues that surfaced, but now all investigations on side issues should be based on the emergence of the main clue." Get out of the way—so we don’t get caught off guard when the iceberg of the main event emerges.” "You've been to college, too," grumbled Officer Quinn, "talking like a Kentucky mountaineer with a swollen cheek!" Something else added to Officer Quinn's exasperation.One morning at dinner, a telegram was delivered to Ellery; Sergeant Quinn knew very well that at this moment a telegram might carry important information that would illuminate the entire chaotic case; After a quick glance, he calmly threw the telegram into the living room fireplace and burned it to ashes.Officer Quinn's self-esteem was greatly hurt, but he still suppressed his curiosity and didn't ask.It was impossible for Ellery not to feel his father's reaction, but he just kept his mouth shut.If Officer Quinn had learned that the telegram was an insider tip from Hollywood, California, he would have tried desperately to find out the truth without regard to dignity.Unfortunately, however, the old man did not discover the contents of that telegram until the end. Teddy Lines was still stirring up all kinds of gossip related to Horn's case with undiminished interest. During this period, another troublesome thing happened, which added a lot of gray hair to Tony Mars, caused more curses from Crazy Bill Grant, and added a few more wrinkles to Officer Quinn's face.There was a contract between Grant and Mars, and the oval stadium was rented to Grant for four weeks as a venue for performances.According to the terms of the contract, Grant still holds the right to use the stadium, and the day of the homicide should be deducted.Three weeks later, however, the stadium is still closed by the police.If Tony Mars has no other plans, this problem is not difficult to solve; but the Tommy Blake Heavyweight Championship Challenge, which is already on the schedule, is gradually approaching.The document should have been signed several months ago, how can the date be changed at will.The kickoff date was scheduled to be the Friday night after the closing ceremony of the Crazy Bill Grant Riding Troupe. With just a week to go before the handover date of the two campaigns, Maas feels he's caught between a rock and a hard place.Tickets had been printed long ago, and the various brokers and relevant people from all walks of life seemed to be refusing to make concessions; Grant insisted on his own rights—once the police withdrew from the blockade, his performance must continue to be held for enough sessions... ...Central Avenue became a taut string on which the Police Headquarters swung. It was another busy day for the press.The hottest jumper was Teddy Lines, a tabloid reporter who swaggered like a titled general.After squeezing out all the news about the verbal battle between the three of Mars-Grant-Central Avenue, he set his sights on Tommy Blake who was about to enter the ring. This morning, without the slightest warning sign, a new hotness exploded in Lynes's column like a missile from the sky: "Look at the man who terrified the old champion!" he wrote. Oh...that boxing champion challenger who is in the limelight, why did he put the pre-match training class in his back garden? I am afraid that the subjects have also been changed to the introduction to jazz, the way of romance, and especially the cultivation of bluegrass? The current owner of Hollywood Orchid - just kidding - is the big guy who was given a green hat by the aforementioned rough boxer. What is going on? Anyone with a normal mind can see it .Come back, come back, sir, your backyard is on fire!" The blast echoed into the police headquarters just half an hour after it blasted through the densely populated neighborhood between skyscrapers. Julian Hunt entered the editorial office of Lions' tabloid, put his hat and cane gracefully beside an unused typewriter, and kicked the door of Lions' workshop open.The joke-loving staff members were elated when they saw this situation, and they all gathered together to watch the excitement.Hunter took off his coat and invited the columnist's glib hands to come over and gesticulate with him.Lyons snorted dismissively, if it comes to boxing skills, he would be willing to fight with the master.He quietly pressed the alarm button on the side of the table, and Hunter soon found himself thrown on the floor outside the room, with a fat guard standing beside him.Mr. Hunter hastily collected his clothes and left with hatred in his eyes.Early the next morning, Lines' column ramped up its firepower, firing more viciously and ferociously at the opponent. The second echo arrived that night.And the shock wave originated from the elegant place of Mara Nightclub. Officer Quinn is old.The clues of Horne's case became more and more confusing; Ellery's depression and indifference became more and more unbearable; the media clamored to urge the police to act; "What are you doing! Boys, be serious!" The frustrated police officer set the breakthrough point on Julian Hunter in desperation.Right now, Lioness is blowing the scandal into the dark, and Hunter, who is full of shit, is also doing evil. "I told you," Sergeant Quinn complained to Ellery that evening, "that Hunter knew far more than he let on—I mean about the Horne deal. Ellery , anyway, we have to do something." There was pity in Ellery's eyes, but stubbornness. "We've got to wait. There's nothing to do now. Time, Dad, time alone will solve this puzzle." "I'm going to that birdman's club tonight!" Police Officer Quinn said angrily, "You come with me." "What is the purpose of going there?" "I'm investigating Hunter, and that's the purpose." An hour before midnight, the Quinns arrived on the doorstep of the Mara Club pomp.The tall police officer Willie was watching the movement in the dark across the road.Sergeant Quinn was hale and calm; Ellery was thorny and uncomfortable.The two entered, and Officer Quinn demanded to see Hunter.They were thwarted at first—apparently because the old gentleman was not in tuxedo (though Ellery was modestly dressed); but when Sergeant Quinn pulled out his shiny coat of arms, no one dared to make fun of it. At a large wine table near the dance floor, they saw Hunter sitting there drinking alone.The guy's face was as pale as a goat's, and the sockets of his eyes were sunken and the bags under his eyes were strained.He stared intently at the glass in his hand as the waiter poured whiskey over and over like a robot. He looked like he was out of this world.The other two people at the same table—the charming Mara and the dark and stout Tommy Blake—also turned a blind eye to Hunter, sitting side by side like a couple, head to head, leg to leg, cheek to cheek, eye to eye. Eye to eye, talking and laughing affectionately.Boxer's big furry paws were still touching the woman's little white hand.The two flirted in Hunter's face as if he didn't exist.There was another person sitting at the corner of the same table, Tony Mars.He was wearing a scruffy evening coat, staring anxiously at the cigar in his hand, as if it was the power held by the chief of police. Sergeant Quinn walked to the table, and Ellery followed awkwardly.Officer Quinn greeted in a very friendly tone: "Good evening, everyone." Mars stood up a little surprised, then sat back down.Mara Gay stopped laughing, and looked at the little police officer Quinn coquettishly: "Oh, look who's coming!" she shrieked.She was slightly drunk, her eyes were shining, and her plump figure was alluring against the backdrop of a low-cut evening dress, "Sherlock Holmes is here too! Come and have fun with us, Sherlock—come too, Mr. Grandpa, hee!" Julian Hunter put down the cup in his hand and said under pressure, "Shut up, Mara." Blake put his big fisted hands on the tablecloth in front of him, and the thick muscles on his shoulders shrugged. "Hello, officer," Mas said gruffly. "Great to see you, rare man. I've been planning to call you all day. When can I take the seal off the playground?" ..." "We'll see, Tony," said Officer Quinn, smiling. "Ah—Hunter, I'd like to chat with you for a few minutes." Hunter looked up at him, then quickly lowered his head: "Let's talk about it tomorrow." "I'm afraid I won't be free tomorrow." Officer Quinn said kindly. "domineering." "That's what people say about me, Hunter. Can you find a place where we can talk alone, or just here?" Hunter said coldly: "It's up to you." Ellery took a step forward impulsively, but was quietly stopped by Officer Quinn: "Okay, let's talk in front of your friends. I've been investigating you, Hunter. And, I found some interesting things about you." thing." Hunter shook his head slightly: "Are you still talking about that murder case?" He sniffed his nose, "Just arrest me as a murderer, and save everyone trouble." "Thinking of you as Horn's murderer? Why do you think so? No, not for that, Hunter," said Officer Quinn cloudedly. "You have another problem, the problem of opening a casino." "what?" Officer Quinn took a pinch of snuff: "You have a casino upstairs, Hunter." Hunter grabbed the edge of the table and stood up with difficulty: "You say it again?" He choked and whispered. "You are planning to build the city's largest casino upstairs. Don't look at you being on guard." Police Officer Quinn said calmly, "Oh, I know I might lose my job if I mention this, but the truth is It’s the truth, isn’t your deed just supported by those thugs from the city hall?” "Hey, you old fool." Hunter roared, his cloudy eyes seemed to burst into flames. "Not only that, Hunter, you are also one of the big names involved in the black-box operation behind the boxing championship. You single-handedly manipulated the fake boxing match between Murphy and Tamara, and joined hands with Pug Liz to control the outcome of the wrestling match , there are even people who say that Mars is at your beck and call—but I don't believe it, because Mars is a decent guy. People are talking now that you have decided the game between Huck and Black. And Tony Wouldn't take part in that sort of business... Just sit still, Blake! Your three-legged skills won't be of much use here." The attacking boxer's pair of small black eyes were fixed on Officer Quinn's face.Mass sat quietly. "Hey, you meddling little mouse!" Hunter roared, and leaped forward with his paws outstretched.Mars stood up hastily and pushed him back into his seat.Mara Gay was pale and dumbfounded, but she was mostly sober from the wine. Tommy Black stared fiercely and cried, "Hey, I'm going to tell you to get the hell out of the police station...you old man...you're going to die..." Officer Quinn smiled and pushed the escort's son away, and said coldly: "I thought you were drinking too much, but now it looks like you are crazy. Do you take back the words yourself, or do you want to wait for me to clean you up?" For a while, everyone was at a loss and stunned in embarrassment.The waiters came after hearing the news.The band hurriedly played and beat, trying their best to cover up the noise here.The customers in the hall also looked this way, sighing.Blake stood up, grabbed Marla's arm, and pulled her away without a word.Hunter was suddenly distracted, saliva flowed from the corner of his drooping mouth, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.He screamed at Blake's back, "And you, you heartless! You..." Mass covered his mouth and pushed him back into the seat. Ellery walked with his father on the sidewalk leading to Broadway, resentful, disgusted with himself, with the world, with everything.Officer Quinn was still smiling inexplicably.Officer Willie quietly followed them not far behind. "Did you hear the commotion inside, Thomas?" Officer Quinn asked with a smile. "riot?" "It's about the same, in this world!" Police Officer Quinn said mockingly, "Cold-blooded guy! Take off the gorgeous hood, and you will find out how disgusting these high-society bosses are actually. Hunter... Bah!" "Did you find anything?" Inspector Willie asked. "No. But the bird man must have something to do with the case, I bet my life." Ellery snorted. "Even if you're hoping to get something out of his mouth, it's counterproductive." "You see it that way?" Sergeant Quinn sneered. "Like you know the guy! I'll tell you, I've got the skin off him. Yes, he'll be dead for a while. But, Remember your father's words, it won't be long before he's flamboyant again, people don't have long memories. We'll know the whole truth soon, Ellery, take my words, take my words! " I don't know whether it was a fluke for Officer Quinn, or the old man really knew the details. In short, the investigation of the hesitant case has made progress. The stimulated Hunter became furious, but became more unscrupulous, so a series of events happened. From the very beginning, two things came together.The first thing happened early the next morning, when Police Chief Walls ordered the closure of the stadium lifted. Another thing is that the evening paper published such a news: According to the established schedule, Tommy Blake and heavyweight boxing champion Jack Harker will be held in the oval stadium next Friday night.Then, on the next Saturday, according to Mr. Maas’s disclosure to this reporter, all the equipment of the boxing match, such as the boxing ring, surrounding seats, media workbench, etc., will be dismantled “at a speed like magic”; and then, Crazy Bill Grant's Rodeo show will reopen Saturday after a three-week hiatus to satisfy a curious "Western Legends" audience.

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Notes: , things are easy to understand: it was one of Mr. Quinn's earliest experience in participating in the investigation. His intellectual self-confidence was repeatedly hurt by a very tricky criminal. error.Therefore, in the future, he will be jealous, and he will never speak nonsense if he is not sure.