Chapter 6 Chapter Four, Fifth Letter

My first summer back in New York from abroad took a lot of time to catch up with American culture.I read a lot of popular magazines for this, and I was particularly interested in the typical American prosperity in the advertisement pages.Everyone should see those ads!One of the advertisements particularly attracted me: "When I sat down in front of the piano, they laughed at me; when I started to play, they smiled." My friends were very surprised, because given the protagonist's past simple proletarian background, it is impossible to imagine that he will have such a noble and elegant side.

Now, I'm jealous of the music-loving laymen in the ad.Because John Hume was pursing his lips and grinning, the nasty Kenyon was grunting, the state troopers and policemen were snickering to themselves, and even Jeremy Clay laughed when he heard what I just said Get up... Anyway, when I declared that they were blind, everyone looked sneering. Unfortunately, at this moment, I couldn't justify the horrific extent of their blindness, so I made a wicked face and vowed in my heart that one day I would make their jaws drop from surprise.Looking back now, the idea at the time was really naive and ridiculous.Whenever, as a child, the old lady who accompanied me refused my whims—it happened many times—I would secretly curse the poor old lady for the most horrible retribution.But at that moment, I was so serious that I turned around and walked to the desk amidst their ridicule, my stomach ached with anger.

Poor dad was so ashamed that he blushed up to his ears and gave me a hard look. In order to hide the panic in my heart, I began to pay attention to the corner of the desk, where several sealed envelopes were neatly piled up, with no stamps on them, and the addresses had been typed with a typewriter.While I was doing my research, John Hume—I guess, regretting that I had made such a fool of myself—said to Carmichael: "By the way, those letters, Miss Sam, it's a good thing you reminded us. Dude, Did you type it?" "What?" Carmichael froze, as if he was completely immersed in his own world, "Oh, those letters, yes, I typed them. After dinner today, the Senator dictated me to write them down, and then I followed the Senator's order. Instructions, to be typed on my own typewriter before going out. My office is the little room next to the study."

"Is there anything special about those letters?" "I'm sure it has nothing to do with the senator's murder." Carmichael smiled sadly. "Actually, I don't think those letters have anything to do with the senator's appointment. I say this because I typed it and handed it to him." His various reactions when he was in a hurry. He quickly read it, signed it, folded it, put it in an envelope and sealed it - all the process was very absent-minded, and his fingers were shaking in a hurry. I clearly felt that he All I wanted was to get rid of me as soon as possible.”

Hume nodded: "I think you have copies of those letters, right? We can check them out, can't we, Inspector? There may be some clues in these letters." Carmichael walked to the desk and took out the top few sheets of smooth pink tissue paper from the wire basket next to the desk. Hume glanced at it briefly, shook his head, and handed it to his father.I leaned over to watch together. I was horrified to find that the top one was for Elihu Clay. My father looked at me, I looked at him, and then went back to the letter.After the routine addressee, the letter reads: "A well-intentioned tidbit, eh?" cried Father. "That's audacious. No wonder you guys are so eager to find him." He lowered his voice, and glanced cautiously around the corner, where Jeremy was still standing, Eyes on the butt, smoking his fifteenth cigarette. "Do you think this letter is genuine?"

Hume sneered: "No, I don't think so. This is just a little trick the late Senator has always been good at. Old Clay is absolutely fine, don't be taken by this letter. The letter deliberately pretends to be a brother In fact, Clay and Fawcett don't have this kind of friendship." "Could it be to leave evidence on purpose?" "Yes, this copy seems to be intended to show that Elihu Clay was also an accomplice in the illegal profiteering of the marble contract. In the letter, the 'good friend' Senator Fawcett, who was also Clay's partner Brother, leaked some secrets to Clay, and judging from the content, there have been many similar situations before. If this fraud case is revealed, Clay will be as guilty as the two brothers."

"Anyway, I'm happy for that boy. The rascal is so nasty! . . . Patty, look at the second letter, it's a life-long lesson." The second copy was a letter to the editor-in-chief of the Leeds Observer. "It's the only newspaper in town," the prosecutor explained, "and it's always stood up to Fawcett's gang." The strongly worded official letter read: "Stupid," my father said, throwing the copy aside. "Petty, read the next one." "My God, this guy wants a piece of the prison pie?" the father exclaimed. "What is this? Barbecue?"

John Hume said bitterly: "Now you should understand how evil this 'savior of the poor' is. He also wants to use the power of appointing prison personnel to win votes in the prison. I don't know what he recommends. Much influence on the State Board of Prisons, but even if it doesn't work, he spreads an image of benevolent devotion, like Harlan Rashid, whose grace shines upon all. Phew!" Father shrugged and picked up the fourth letter, and this time he chuckled under his breath: "Poor old fool, old dirty trick. Look here, Patty, another daring letter." I was taken aback. Jump, this letter is to be sent to my father's old friend, Governor Bruno, I don't know what he will say when he receives this rude letter:

"Honestly, I'm on the verge of tears." Father threw the copies back into the basket, "God, I really want to quit, this bastard got stabbed in the chest, he deserved it... Is something wrong, Petty?" "Here's what's wrong," I said slowly. "Dad, how many copies are there?" He stared at me with wide eyes. "Four, what's the matter?" "Oh, there are 'five' envelopes on the desk!" Seeing the prosecutor flusteredly grabbing the pile of typed envelopes with a stunned expression on his face, I finally felt better.

"Miss Sam's right!" he cried. "Carmichael, what's the matter? How many letters has the Senator dictated?" The secretary looked shocked. "There are only four, Mr. Hume. The four you have seen copies of." Hume goes over it quickly and hands it to us.The one to Elihu Clay was at the top, the blood splatter had dried, and the next one was to the editor of the Leeds Observer, stamped "Dearly" on one corner and scratched at the bottom. Line emphasis.The third, addressed to the warden, has paperclip marks at both ends, and in the lower right hand corner it is marked: "Ref. Letter File No. 245, Algonquin Promotion Case."The envelope addressed to Governor Bruno was double-sealed with the senator's personal blue sealing wax, also marked "Dearly" and underlined.

Seeing the fifth envelope—the one for which no copy had been left—Hume paused to examine it for a long time, his eyes eager, his lips pursed in a slight sigh. "Fanny Cather," he said, "is kind of on the way, eh?" and beckoned us around to look.It was untyped, but the name, address, and "Leeds, New York," were written in black ink in a strong, personal style. "Who is Fanny Cather?" asked the father. "Oh, a very influential citizen of the city," replied the prosecutor in an inscrutable tone, opening the envelope.I noticed that Chief Kenyon walked over with a tense expression, and the policemen standing next to him exchanged winks, with a kind of malicious ambiguity, which is what a man would have when he mentioned a woman who behaved badly. eyes. The letter inside, like the envelope, was also handwritten.The same exaggerated handwriting - Hume started to read it aloud, but just after reading a word, he glanced to the side vigilantly, then changed to silent reading, his eyes lit up, and after reading it, he handed it to Kenyon, his father and me beside him , turning his back to the others, shook his head slightly to warn us not to read out the voice. There was no address at the beginning of the letter, and the topic went straight to the point without thinking, and there was no signature at the end. I suspect that the phone is tapped by C, don't call.I will write to inform Ella of the change of plans and tell him what we talked about yesterday and your suggestion. Don't act rashly, let your word out, we haven't lost yet.Also, send Maggie over, I've got a little idea for our friend H. "Is it Fawcett's handwriting?" asked the father. "Without a doubt. Now, what do you think?" "C," Kenyon whispered, "God, isn't he referring to this—?" He peeked across the room with those little dead fish eyes, where Carmichael was with Jay. Rimi spoke quietly. "I'm not surprised," murmured Hume, "that's right! I thought this Mr. Secretary was a little weird." He hurried to the door, where a criminal policeman was loitering like a duchess strolling in a spacious garden , "Get some people to check the telephone lines in this house," Hume whispered, "right away." The detective nodded, and walked away slowly. "Mr. Hume," I asked, "who's Maggie?" The corner of his mouth twitched: "I believe this Maggie must be a young lady who is very good at something." "I see. Damn it, Mr. Hume, why don't you just say it? I'm of age. And, Senator Fawcett's 'friend H', I guess that's you?" Hume shrugged helplessly: "It seems so. It seems that my venerable opponent intends to use his famous 'trap' to prove that John Hume is not as virtuous as he claimed. Maggie must have Just sent to seduce me, frame me, things like that have happened before, and I'm sure there's going to be a bunch of people out there who will prove that I'm a - er - womanizer." "Very well said, Mr. Hume!" I retorted sweetly. "Are you married?" He smiled: "Why—are you interested?" At this time, the criminal police sent to check the telephone line came back and relieved me of the embarrassment of answering. "Money is all right outside this room, Mr. Hume, and now I'm going to check the telephone line in this room—" "Wait," Hume said hastily, and then raised his voice: "Oh, Carmichael, I'm fine for now, please wait outside for a while." Carmichael left the room calmly, and the detective immediately checked the telephone on the table, and fiddled with it for a long time. "It's hard to say," he looked up. "It seems to be all right, but, Mr. Hume, I suggest that you'd better ask the telephone company to check." Hume nodded.I said, "One more thing, Mr. Hume, why don't you open these envelopes, maybe the letter inside is different from the copy." He stared at me with clear eyes, smiled, and picked up the envelope again.However, the letter inside is exactly the same as the copy we have seen.The prosecutor seemed particularly interested in the paper-stapled attachment to the Algonquin prison letter listing names recommended for promotion, and he stared spitefully at the list, then set it aside. "Nothing, Miss Sam, your premonition didn't come true." The prosecutor picked up the phone on the table while talking, and I was thinking ecstatically beside him. "Directory? This is Prosecutor Hume, please help me find the phone number of the local Fanny Kaiser." He waited quietly, "Thank you." He said, then dialed the number and stood there Wait, we can all hear the other party's continuous ringing from the receiver: "No answer, alas!" He hung up the receiver, "One of our first tasks is to interrogate Miss Fanny Cather." Rubbing each other, with a tenacious expression like a little boy on his face. I took small steps and sneaked closer to the desk. There was a table only an arm's width away from the chair the corpse had sat on.An electric coffee pot sits on top, and a tray next to it holds coffee cups and saucers.I touched the body of the pot curiously, it was still warm, and then I looked at the cloudy bottom of the cup and there was still coffee sediment. The theory in my heart rose slowly from the bottom of my heart like the rope used by Hindu saints to ascend to heaven.I'm eager to prove that's true, because if the theory is true... I turned around with a triumphant gleam in my eyes, maybe too ostentatious, and Prosecutor Hume glared at me almost angrily, and I believed he was about to teach me a lesson or question me.However, just before his attack, something happened that changed the direction of the entire investigation.

---

Notes: