Chapter 10 Chapter Eight: The God of Relief Arrives

One thing that I find important in rethinking this murder is the mysterious absence of the victim's brother.It seems to me that Hume has been too negligent to take Dr. Fawcett's disappearance seriously.I had previously drawn up a plan of action against this cunning gentleman.His delay in showing up not only aroused my interest, but also irritated me. Maybe I was thinking too much, and if Dr. Fawcett did show up at last, the prosecutors wouldn't be too concerned about his whereabouts over the past few days.However, I still feel that you can't be too careless with anyone.Not long after seeing his true face in Lushan, I completely agreed with my father: Elihu Clay's suspicion of him may be justified.

It was not until Monday evening, two days after we had questioned Alan Dow, that Dr. Fawcett finally appeared.The day passed peacefully on Monday, and my father told Mr. Clay in frustration that he was going to give up the case. All the clues led to a dead end. There was no document or record to prove that Dr. Fawcett was guilty. The investigation went to the end. , Still can't find his criminal evidence. We first heard of Dr. Fawcett's return from Elihu Clay at lunch on Monday. "My partner is back," he announced breathlessly, "shown up this morning." "What!" my father yelled. "Why didn't the gorilla Kenyon or Hume tell me? When did you find out?"

"Not long ago. That's why I rushed home for lunch when Fawcett called me from the city." "What did he say? How did he get the news? Where did he go?" Clay smiled tiredly and shook his head: "I don't know, he seemed depressed. He told me he called me from Hume's office." "I want to meet this guy," the father frowned. "Where is he now?" "You'll have your chance soon. He's coming to talk to me tonight. I didn't tell him about your experience, but I mentioned that you're here as a guest." Not long after dinner, the main character, Dr. Fawcett, came to visit. The limousine he was riding in was ridiculed by his father as "people's fat and people's cream". .I have no doubt that he is not only the driver, but also the boss's bodyguard.

Fawcett was tall and pale, with features resembling his dead brother.The difference is that he has a set of healthy yellow teeth, a horse-like smile, and a short black beard that is neatly trimmed. He smells of tobacco and disinfectant-a funny but annoying smell of a politician and doctor, but it does not add to his Charm.I figured he was older than his senator brother, and I later learned that guess was right.He had a decidedly obnoxious air about him, the type I imagine would make a small-town political politician.That unpleasant impression reminds me of Rufus Cotton, the leader of the opposition party. I really feel sorry for the good people of Tilden County, who have been hammered between the hammer and the anvil. Absolutely Not to be envied.

When Elihu Clay was introduced to us, he stared at me intently, and I knew one thing right away: I wouldn't dare be alone with this gentleman doctor if I had been given all the gold in the world.He has a disgusting habit of licking the corners of his lips with the tip of his tongue. According to my past experience with some nasty people, this is an absolute sign of a man with evil intentions.Moreover, Dr. Fawcett is the kind of man that even the shrewdest women can't control. He will take advantage of all kinds without any scruples. I said to myself, "Patience Sam, be careful and change your plans."

After he stared at me like an X-ray scan, he turned around and put on the shocked expression of the family members of the victims.He looked very haggard. Mr. Clay introduced his father as "Mr. Sam" to him, and he didn't say much. At that moment, his eyes flashed. I felt that he seemed to have doubts about his father, but with me here, he must Reassure him a lot.After the introductions, he spends most of his time addressing his partner. "The most dreadful day I've ever had with Kenyon and Hume," he said, stroking the stubble under his lips. "Clay, you don't understand how much this has hit me. Murder! My God, Why, it's so savage—”

"Of course," Clay whispered, "didn't you know about it until you came back this morning?" "I don't know anything. Before I left last week, I should have told you where I was going, but I never dreamed of it—I've been so far away from civilization these days, and I haven't even read a newspaper. It's unimaginable—this Deo...why, he must be crazy!" "So you don't know him?" asked the father casually. "Of course I don't know him. I've never seen him. Hume showed me the letter he found in Joel's desk—oh no—" He bit his lip quickly, his eyes darting around like lightning, looking Then he knew he had made a mistake--"I mean, the letter was found in the safe in Joel's bedroom on the second floor. I was terrified, blackmailed! Incredible, unbelievable. Dare I say, it must have happened What a terrible mistake."

Then he knew Fanny Cather too!I thought, that letter... what he was thinking about was not the blackmail letter that Doo had written with ghostly pencil marks, but the note his brother had written to the ugly old woman.Now I feel that his excitement is not entirely faked.Of course, his tone of voice was very hypocritical, but he could hear that he was really troubled by something in his heart.He was haunted by a ghostly shadow, and it looked as if he was sitting under the hanging sword of Damocles, and watched as the hair attached to the sword was about to break. "You must be very sad, Dr. Fawcett," I said softly, "I can imagine how you feel, murder..." I shuddered slightly, and his eyes shifted to me, examining me again, Full of personal interest.And he was licking his lips again, like a melodrama villain with a mustache.

"Thank you, dear," he said in a low voice. The father still didn't give up, "This is a good thing," he said with a frown, "There must be something about your brother." It seems that the ghost shadow has returned, and Fawcett has forgotten my existence.It is not difficult to see that the ghost shadow is the skinny prisoner in the detention center.Fanny Cather was involved, of course, but why was Dr. Fawcett so afraid of Deo?What power did that poor creature have over them? "Hume is active," Clay said, studying the cigar with his narrow eyes. Fawcett waved his hand and diverted the prosecutor's topic aside, "Oh, yes, of course. Hume didn't bother me, he just had a little deviation in his political ideas. This kind of person is really bad, taking advantage of other people's tragedies As his own political capital. It seems to be said in the newspapers - he used my brother's murder to increase his political advantage, votes are more important to him than murder... But it's nothing, nothing, it's important It was this horrific crime."

"Hume seems to think that the murderer is Deo," the father said rashly, sounding as if he was just quoting rumors from the outside world. The doctor stared at his father, "Of course! Didn't he kill him?" Father shrugged, "It is said that it is so, and I don't know much about it. But it seems that some residents in the city think that the fool Deo was framed by design." "I see." He bit his lip again and frowned. "I haven't thought about it. Of course, you know, I insist that justice must be done, but at the same time we can't stand in the way of justice by relying on our own intuition alone." I think His voice was almost screaming, and his tone was contrived like that of a articulate puppeteer.He added: "I'll look into it. Tell Hume..."

I almost blurted out a bunch of questions, but my father's eyes stopped me, and I just obeyed and stood aside. "Then," Dr. Fawcett stood up, "Mr. Clay, please allow me to retire. And you, Miss Sam," he looked at me with attachment in his eyes, "I hope to have the honor to be with you again—alone See you..." He whispered, then squeezed my hand and kept stroking my fingers, "You understand." Then he said loudly, "It's a terrible blow, I have to go back, there are many trivial things ...I'll be at the mines tomorrow morning, Clay, and we'll talk then." After his car had driven away, Elihu Clay asked his father, "Well, Inspector, what do you think of my partner?" "I think he's a liar." Clay sighed, "I hoped that my doubts were just overthinking. It's strange, what is he doing here tonight, he said clearly on the phone before that he would come to discuss things with me, but now he says we can talk about it tomorrow." "I can tell you why," said the father quickly, "because he's had some whisper--Hume probably told him--that he knows what I really came here for!" "You really think so?" Clay murmured. "That's right, he came here just to find out about me first, maybe it was just out of suspicion." "Too bad, Inspector." The father said worriedly, "I'm afraid it's very bad. I don't like this guy from the bottom of my heart. Not at all." That night, I dreamed that a group of scary monsters crawled into my bed, and each one happened to have manicured short whiskers and horse-like eyes.Fortunately, waking up at dawn was just a dream. Immediately after breakfast, my father and I set off for the city prosecutor's office. "Tell me the truth," my father yelled at Hume without waiting for Hume to say hello, "did you report to that guy Fawcett yesterday, telling him the real purpose of my coming here?" Hume stared, "Me? Of course not, what's the matter, does he know your background?" "Listen, that guy knows everything. He went to Clay last night. From his attitude towards me, he must know my identity." "Well, I think Kenyon probably leaked it." "He's Fawcett's eyeliner, isn't he?" The prosecutor shrugged, "People like us who follow the law every day would never say such things even in private chats. But you can draw your own conclusions, inspector." "Father, don't be so fierce," I said sweetly, "Mr. Hume, what happened here yesterday, you don't object to revealing a little inside information?" "It's nothing, Miss Sam. Fawcett's claim that he's shocked by his brother's murder, that he doesn't know anything, and that doesn't help our investigation at all." "Did he explain where he was this weekend?" "No, I didn't pursue it either." I glanced at my father, "Inspector, probably with some woman?" "Shh, Petty!" "We've had a meeting, and there's been a lot of quarrels," said Hume grimly. "I've got him on the lookout. He had a sneak meeting yesterday with his damned crooked politicians. I dare say they're Plan something shady, and once Senator Fawcett is dead, they'll have to make up for the damage done." Father waved his hand. "Sorry, Hume, I'm not interested in the political dispute between you. What I want to ask is, does he know about that wooden box?" "He said he didn't know?" "Has he seen Dow?" Hume was silent for a few seconds. "Yes, and very interesting, oh no," he hastily corrected, "this meeting did not reduce our determination to prosecute Dow, in fact, it made him even more suspicious." "What happened?" "We took Dr. Fawcett to the detention center to see Dow." "and then?" "And then, no matter what our venerable doctor says, he actually knew Dew." He punched the desk, "I'm pretty sure there must be something between them, damn it, it looks like there must be collusion Keep silent. I feel very strongly that if they keep quiet about something, it benefits both parties." "I don't understand, Mr. Hume," I murmured, "you're talking so abstractly." He looked very unhappy, "Generally, I don't pay much attention to such things, but Fawcett hates Dow - not only knows him, but hates him, and Fawcett is even afraid of him... As for Deo, I believe this brief meeting with the doctor gave him a little hope. Weird, isn't it? But he did get excited." "That," said my father roughly, "was not what I expected. By the way, any new developments in Dr. Bull's autopsy report?" "No further discovery, as judged the night of the murder." "How's Fanny Cather these days?" "Are you interested?" "Of course I'm fucking interested. That woman must know something inside." "Well," Hume leaned back, "I have my own thoughts about Fanny, and her silence may not keep her out of the matter. But I believe that we can give her a surprise before long." "You want to track down that letter from the Senator?" "maybe." "Go for it, young man, maybe one day, you'll be the president of the United States." He stood up. "Come on, Petty." "One more question," I said slowly, and Hume folded his hands behind his head and looked at me with a smile in his eyes.I asked, "Mr. Hume, have you checked all the details of the murder?" "Miss Sam, what do you mean?" "For example," I said, "is that footprint in front of the fireplace compared with the Senator's shoes or slippers?" "Oh, yes! That's not the Senator's footprint, and the slippers don't fit—too wide, and bigger than his usual shoes." I breathed a sigh of relief, "And Deo, have you checked Deo's shoes?" Hume shrugged, "Dear Miss Sam, everything has been checked. Don't forget, that footprint is not clear. It should be Dow's shoe." I put on my gloves, "Papa, go before I start a quarrel. Mr. Hume, if Alan D'O did leave those two footprints--one on the rug, one in the fireplace-- I'd rather stand on the main road and eat your hat in the street." Now looking back at the strange case of Alan Deo, I find that it can be roughly divided into three stages of development.Although at that time, I didn't know for sure what direction the future would take, and I didn't dare to hold out hope, but in fact, we were already making rapid progress towards the end of the first stage. Looking back at the situation at the time, the development of the situation cannot be said to be completely unexpected.In fact, subconsciously, I have been quite prepared to face these emergencies. During the night of the gathering in the dead man's study, I had intended to ask my father about Carmichael.As mentioned earlier, when Carmichael stepped into the study for the first time, I saw my father's astonishment. At the same time, from Carmichael's reaction, I was sure that he recognized his father.I don't understand why I didn't ask my father any more, maybe it was a series of exciting incidents that distracted me.But now I understand that Carmichael's true identity was very important to my father from the very beginning. He was like hiding a trump card in his hand, and he would not show it until the best time... A few days later, when the case was in a stalemate and everything seemed hopeless, Carmichael's shadow suddenly came back to me.Jeremy was looking at my feet obsessively - I remember sitting on the porch with him and he was holding my ankle and raving in empty words about how delicate it was. —and my father was answering the phone in Elihu Clay's study, rushing out onto the porch in a state of excitement and pulling me back from Jeremy's dream. "Petty," he whispered in my ear, "beautiful! I just got a call from Carmichael!" Then all the questions about Carmichael popped into my head, "My God! I was going to ask you, who the hell is he?" "I don't have time now. I'm going to meet him outside Leeds. He asked me to meet him at a small hotel by the road. Hurry up and change your clothes." My father made up a ridiculous reason—probably he got a call from an old friend—borrowed a car from the Clay family, and took me with him.We talked about the way several times, both of us were excited because of curiosity, and finally found the agreed place. "You'll be surprised," my father said after parking the car, "that Carmichael is a government agent." My eyes widened, "Oh, God, this is so unexpected, isn't it the Bureau of Investigation?" Father chuckled, "A federal agent under the jurisdiction of the Washington Bureau of Justice. I met him a few times a long time ago. He is one of the top talents in the bureau. When he walked into Fawcett's study that day, I I recognize him, but I don't want to reveal his identity. I don't think if he pretends to be a secretary, he won't want me to expose him." The small hotel was far away from the main highway, quite quiet, and there were no guests in the early morning.My father handled it very smartly. He asked for a private dining room. Judging from the ambiguous smile on the face of the hotel owner, he obviously regarded us as a passionate American couple who often avoided people and looked for excitement—a A gray-haired old man with a girl young enough to be his daughter was one way of thinking, such is the life of an American family. We were ushered into the room, and Dad laughed, "No, Petty, I'm not looking for thrills." Then the door opened and Carmichael walked in quietly.He locked the door, and not long after the waiter knocked on the door, his father shouted: "Get out of here." The experienced waiter outside snickered softly. They shook hands happily, and then Carmichael bowed to me, "I can see from your expression, Miss Sam, your old father has told you who I am." "You're Carmichael of the Household Cavalry—I mean, the Bureau of Investigation," I cried. "That's exciting. I thought you were the only thing you could find in detective novels. .” "We do exist," he said apprehensively, "but we're not as happy as the lads in detective novels. I'm in a hurry, Inspector, and I can only sneak out for an hour." There was a new quality in his manner. Strength: Confident, and with a strong sense of danger.The romantic side of my personality was at work again, and looking at his stocky build and ordinary face, I couldn't help sighing, if only he could have the appearance of Jeremy Clay! "Why didn't you contact me earlier?" my father asked, "I've been waiting for your call to death." "No way," he paced silently up and down the room like an animal, "I've been watched all the time, first I suspected it was Fanny Cather probing me, then Dr. Fawcett. My identity has not been revealed yet, but it will soon. Inspector, I don't want to reveal my identity unless it is absolutely necessary... Now, please listen to me." I'm curious what he has to say. "Let's get started." Father said harshly. Carmichael stated calmly that he had been tracking Senator Fawcett and the corrupt political parties in Tilden County for a long time, almost every one of them involved in tax evasion. He took great pains and made a long detour to break into the core of this group, and became the secretary of Senator Fawcett - from his words, it can be inferred that his predecessor was too impatient to fail - he was very careful, a Bit by bit, evidence of tax evasion by Fawcett's associates was collected. "Is that including Ella?" my father asked. "He is the most difficult to deal with, very fine." The C referred to in the senator's letter to Fanny Cather was Carmichael, who tapped the phone from an outside wiring, but was later discovered.He has kept a low profile since the murders. "Mr. Carmichael, what kind of character is Fanny Cather?" I asked. "She's got her hands on every nasty thing in Tildenshire. She works hand in hand with Fawcett's gang—they protect her, and she gives them a chunk of the good. Hume should be all over soon. Dig it out, and these villains will wait for their retribution when the time comes." As for Dr. Fawcett, Carmichael described him as an octopus, the mastermind behind his brother.Through the innocent Elihu Clay, he used the side business he invested in as a channel for corruption and bribery.Carmichael provided a wealth of information detailing how the county and the city of Leeds had, without Clay's knowledge, entered into illegal marble deals with Clay's company.My father also took notes in detail. "But I'm here," said the federal agent emphatically, "and there are more important things. While I'm still at the Fawcett's house under the guise of sorting through the Senator's belongings, there's something I'd better tell you about him first." You... about this murder case, the information I have may be quite interesting!" My father and I both jumped up, "You know who did it?" I yelled. "No. But I found something during the investigation. If I tell Hume, I will have to explain the source of the news and my true identity, and I don't want that." I sat up straight, and what in Carmichael's hands could it be the most important key detail I've been seeking? "I've been watching the Senator for months. After he sent me away the night of the murder, I got suspicious and decided something wasn't right and decided to stay and see what happened. I Hide behind the bushes in the walkway outside the porch, it was nine forty-five, and no one called for the next fifteen minutes." "Wait a minute, Mr. Carmichael," I cried excitedly, "were you looking at the front door for the fifteen minutes until ten o'clock?" "More than that, I was staring at the front door until I got back to the house at ten-thirty. But let me finish." I literally screamed: Victory! He went on to say that at ten o'clock a man blindfolded up to the eyes walked quickly down the aisle, up the steps, and rang the doorbell.Carmichael saw Fawcett's silhouette reflected on the frosted glass. The senator obviously recognized this person, and no one else entered the room after that.At 10:25, the same masked man left alone.Carmichael waited five minutes, growing suspicious, and entered the house at ten-thirty to find the Senator dead behind his desk.Unfortunately, Carmichael was unable to describe the visitor's appearance in detail. His face was covered up to the eyes, and it was pitch black outside the house.Yes, of course, it could be Alan Dow. I dismissed the idea impatiently.Time, time!This is the most important thing. "Mr. Carmichael," I said hastily, "are you absolutely sure that you were looking at the front door from the time you left the house until you came back in, and that no one else went in except the masked man?" He seemed a little hurt: "Dear Miss Sam, I wouldn't have said that just now if I wasn't sure." "Is it the same person who went in and came out?" "Absolutely." I took a deep breath, and now it was only a point before my reasoning was complete. "When you entered the study and found the Senator dead, did you ever go to the fireplace?" "No." We promised each other not to tell anything about our meeting today, so we broke up. All the way back to Clay's house, my mouth was dry, the whole reasoning was perfect, so simple that it almost scared me... Through the light from the dashboard, I looked at my father, his teeth were gritted, his eyes were full. It is the color of distress. "Dad," I said softly, "I understand." "what?" "I can prove that Alan D'O is innocent." The steering wheel was twisted violently, and my father cursed in a low voice, struggling to straighten the car again, "You're at it again! Do you mean that what Carmichael said just now is enough to prove Deo's innocence?" "No, it's just what he said, filling in a small gap at the end of the whole reasoning. The whole thing is as clear as a diamond." For a while, he fell silent, and then said, "Where's the evidence?" I shook my head, which had bothered me from the beginning, "There is nothing to bring to court." I said worriedly. He muttered, "You tell me first, Petty." The wind outside the car whistled past our ears. I spoke earnestly for ten minutes, but my father listened quietly until I finished speaking, and he nodded. "Sounds good," he murmured, "sounds good. Damn, it's like old Derry talking about his deduction wonders, but—" I was disappointed and could see poor dad suffering from hesitation. "Okay," he sighed, "it's too difficult for me, my good daughter Patty, I admit that I'm not qualified to judge, especially one point, I don't really agree with it. Patty," he clenched his hands Hold the steering wheel, "Looks like we're going to have a little trip." I said in horror, "Dad! Couldn't it be now?" He laughed. "Tomorrow morning. We'd better run and talk to that old hawk." "Dad! Please make it clear, who are you going to see?" "Of course it is Ren. Little girl, if there is any error in your theory, he will pick it out. Anyway, I have nothing to do." So we set to work.The next morning, without revealing the source, my father told Elihu Clay the truth about Dr. Fawcett's plots, and advised him to refrain from taking any action until our return. Then we set off to leave, not daring to hold out too much hope, of course.