Chapter 28 Chapter XXVII - Achilles' Heel

Ellery Quinn was never keen on the art of journalism.He always read the newspapers as little as possible; conservative news bored him, sensational news disgusted him. But on Monday morning, he found himself on the sidewalk leading to headquarters, perversely buying four different papers from a paper boy who surprised even the paper boy when he took his pennies. Of course there was no need to explain the reason for his sudden change of habit to the newsboy. He just nodded to the newsboy and walked quickly towards the huge gray building. When he saw Officer Quinn, he was yelling into the handset.Ellery sat and waited, flipping through the newspapers he had just bought.The news that Crazy Bill Grant was arrested on suspicion of homicide was naturally on the front pages of every newspaper, and the relevant news was full of articles, and was given a very generous number of pages.The huge photo showed the sharp face of the old entertainer; those plaintive eyes cast a questioning gaze straight at him.Banner headings in large type called him "The Bloodthirsty Demon," "The Traitor," "The Scum of the West," and "The Provenant of Savage Games."

Oddly enough, Ellery only looked at the headline, glanced at the length of the article, and didn't read the rest of it carefully.Soon he put down the newspaper and looked at his father calmly, copying his hands. "What happened this morning?" he asked lightheartedly. "Oh, it's a lot. Grant—don't talk, say yes, don't say no," said Officer Quinn, "but we'll have a breakthrough eventually. The thing is, we found the gun. Knowles Said that the pistol found in Grant's room was definitely the murder weapon in these two murders." Officer Quinn paused, and a cloud of thought flashed in his eyes, "But it's very strange," he said slowly, "Knowles seems to be hiding something, this Knowles!" He shrugged his shoulders, "It must be my illusion. That guy has always been pure and pure. When will I hear what you said, my little ancestor? Director My lord has been urging me all morning to ask about the progress."

"Don't tell me that the grown-up is interested in reasoning again," Ellery muttered, "Isn't he staring at the result? All right, you can give him the result, right? You catch it too. To catch the murderer is 'delivery in port' to the New York authorities. The evidence is clear—isn't it? What more could he want?" "But," said Inspector Quinn, "he's also quite a layman, and interested in details. And, come to think of it," he added, with a tentative glance at Ellery, "I have some of my own. Confused. How did Grant place that gun so casually? Isn't that a little too stupid for a two-time killer? Especially, he was able to put the gun under our noses twice. The gun was brought out of the field. I thought it was weird. I thought..."

"Don't even think about it," said Ellery. "Has Curley been here?" "Called me three times in a hurry. The kid is about to break down. Seems like Grant didn't even bother to get a lawyer - just refused to get one. I don't understand. His son is going crazy. Kit... " "How's Kit?" Ellery asked with sudden attention. Officer Quinn shrugged his shoulders: "She also came this morning. She demanded the death penalty for Grant." "It's natural," Ellery said.The expression on his face was like suddenly tasting a strange taste from a cigar.

All day Ellery wandered around police headquarters, anxiously waiting for something.He stared nervously at the door whenever CRID agents came to report to Sergeant Quinn; smoked countless cigars and made several phone calls in the downstairs hall. In the afternoon, three times someone came to ask him to explain the case, but he refused all of them with a smile.He shook his head and turned away District Judge Simpson, the three journalists, and the Commissioner himself.While dealing with the people around him, Ellery looked at the door with a look of eagerness. But nothing out of the ordinary happened all day.

At six o'clock, he followed Officer Quinn out of the police headquarters and took the subway into town. At half past six, the two sat quietly at the dining table, but neither had an appetite. At seven o'clock the doorbell rang, and Ellery jumped to his feet. The visitor was Kit Horne; pale, haggard, and nervous. "Come in," said Ellery softly. "Sit down, Miss Horne. I'm so glad you've finally decided to come." "I really don't know what to do or what to think," she whispered, sitting in a chair, "I don't know which direction to go. I'm completely—completely..."

"It's not your fault," said Inspector Quinn sympathetically. "It's hard to bear to suddenly discover that a good friend is a real enemy. If I were you, I wouldn't let it haunt me all the time—or It's other people's feelings." "You mean Curley?" She shook her head. "Impossible. Well, it wasn't his fault either, it's just..." The doorbell rang again, and Di Juna ran to open the door.After a while, Curley appeared in the room. "What else do you want to call me..." While speaking, he saw Kit. The two stared at each other wordlessly for a while.

She blushed and tried to stand up, but stopped halfway.Curley looked miserable, with his head drooping. "Don't go!" Ellery said quietly but firmly.She looked at him, a little surprised. "I want you to stay here. I beg you to stay a little longer. Don't make things difficult for Curley. Please sit down, Miss Horn." She sat back. Di Juna was busy skillfully, and brought tea trays for everyone in a short while. The embarrassing atmosphere was quickly dispelled by the crisp and pleasant clinking of the cups. There seemed to be a tacit understanding, and the conversation turned to lighter subjects, and within ten minutes Ellery succeeded in making them smile.

However, after these ten minutes, the conversation continued for a long time, one hour, two hours... The chat and laughter gradually faded away.Officer Quinn was getting restless.Ellery, on the other hand, seemed overly enthusiastic and restless; he walked up and down, chattered, smiled, frowned, smoked, and graciously passed cigarettes, fire, and tea to guests... He was completely It's like a different person, which is so abnormal that it makes people suspicious.Even though—perhaps precisely because of his efforts—the atmosphere became more and more unbearable, and each moment seemed like a long year.At last, when Ellery finally gave up on this absurd effort to concoct a frenzied joyous atmosphere, everyone finally fell silent.

To be precise, at exactly nine o'clock, the doorbell rang three times. The sudden ringing of the bell broke the solemn silence, causing Sergeant Quinn to brush his beard, causing Kit and Curley to stiffen up, and Ellery leaping from his chair into the air as if jumping rope. "No, Dijuna," he called hastily to the boy who usually ran to answer the door, "I'm sorry, I want to go in person," and rushed through the doorway. Everyone heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a man's deep voice. Ellery said something too, calmly and authoritatively: "Oh, come in, come in. I'm waiting for you."

Ellery came back from the doorway, as white as his shirt. Immediately behind him a tall man - much taller than Ellery - stepped aside. It was a moment of eternity, a moment that seldom happens to the fleeting beings in the river of time.At such moments, the energy that has been accumulated for a long time suddenly hits people's minds and explodes in them. The crowd stared at the man standing beside Ellery, who stared back at them. The man with the horrific burn scars all over his face and the tattered western clothes on his body was none other than Benjamin Miller who mysteriously disappeared from the stadium a few days ago.Under the uneven scar on the right side was the gray of death, which was the same color as the knuckles on his hand. "Miller." Officer Quinn greeted in confusion, and stood up hesitantly. Kit suddenly let out a strange cry, and everyone's eyes turned to her. She stared at Miller in horror.The other party's eyes quickly made contact with hers, and then moved away.He went into the living room.Kit bit his lip and looked left and right at the other people, panting hurriedly and chaotically, his eyes filled with uncontrollable fear. "Well, what the hell is going on..." Curley asked in amazement. Ellery said in a barely audible voice, "Tell them." Miller stood a yard from the living room door, his large hands clenched slightly.He licked his lips and said, "Officer Quinn, I killed... I killed..." "What!" Officer Quinn yelled, jumping up, his furious eyes quickly swept across Ellery, "You... what do you mean? You killed Buck Horn and Woody?" Curley cursed softly. Miller's fists open and close. Kit started to cry softly. Ellery said, "He did kill Woody, but he didn't kill Buck Horth!" Officer Quinn was so angry that he slammed his fist on the table: "God, I'm impatient, tell me the truth! What the hell is going on with all these stupid farces? What do you mean? Miller killed Woody but not Horn? Those two were shot with the same gun!" "And it was shot by the same hand," said Ellery wearily. "But Miller couldn't have killed Buck Horn. See, because Miller is Buck Horn!"