Chapter 8 fourth scene

"Do you really think—" the prosecutor asked suspiciously after the inspector sent someone to send Conrad Heite, who seemed to be in a dream, back to his bedroom for guard. "I'm going to stop thinking now," said Sam abruptly, "and just start acting. These shoes -- incriminating, I daresay!" "Ah—inspector," said Mr. Jerry Lane, coming forward to take the dirty white espadrilles from Sam's hand, "I'll take a look." He checked the shoes, the heels were worn out, old and worn out, and there was a small hole in the sole of the left shoe: "Does this shoe match the left footprint on the carpet?"

"Of course," the inspector grinned, "When Moxiu told me I found this shoe in Het's closet, I asked them to check the footprints." "But of course you," said Ryan, "you don't intend to stop here, do you?" "What do you mean?" Sam demanded. "Uh, Inspector," Lane replied, looking thoughtfully at the shoe on the right, "I think you might want to send this one in for analysis." "analyze?" "Look here." Ren raised his right shoe up.There were a few splashes on the front toe of what looked like some kind of liquid.

"Well," murmured the inspector, "do you think..." Wren smiled amiably. "In this case, Inspector, I don't think--I don't either--recommend action. If I were you, I'd send this shoe to Dr. Schelling right away for a stain check." , this may be the same liquid as in the syringe, if so..." He shrugged, "it proves that the person who poisoned him was indeed wearing these shoes. In this way, I'm afraid it will be very bad for Mr. Hatter." There was a hint of mockery in Ryan's tone, and Sam stared at him, but Ryan's expression was serious.

"Mr Wren is right," Bruno said. The inspector hesitated, then took the shoe back from Rain, went to the door, and signaled for a detective. "Frank, give it to Schelling." The detective nodded and took the shoes away. Just at this time, the fat figure of Miss Smith appeared at the door. "Louisa is feeling better now, Inspector," said her raspy voice, "Dr. Miriam said you could see her, she has something to tell you." On the way upstairs to Luisa Kabian's bedroom, Prosecutor Bruno murmured: "What can she tell us?" The inspector muttered: "I suppose it's some weird opinion, after all, she's a bad witness. What a case! A murder with living witnesses, God, but she's deaf, dumb, and blind. She can According to the testimony provided, she is no different from the fact that she died last night."

"I'm not so sure, Inspector," Ryan whispered, as he hurried upstairs, "Miss Kabian is not completely useless. People have five senses, you know." "That's right, but..." Sam's lips twitched silently. Ren could see what he was muttering to himself, and he laughed to himself. It turned out that he was counting the facial features, but he couldn't figure it out for a while. The prosecutor said thoughtfully: "Of course, there may be useful information, if she can further confirm that it is Conrad... After all, during the time before and after the incident, she should be awake—on the ground The powder has the footprints of her bare feet, which is enough to prove-even from the place where she passed out and the direction of the murderer's footprints, it is very likely that she still touched-"

"Great point of view, Mr. Bruno," said Wren calmly. The door across the aisle and opposite the stairway was open at this time, and three men walked in. Although there were still white footprints on the carpet and the sheets were still messily piled on the bed, the room gave a very different look after the body was removed.The atmosphere inside is more pleasant, the sun shines in, and the dust is dancing in the brilliance. Luisa Kabian was sitting in a rocking chair on the far side of her bed, with her usual blank face, but she was holding her head up in a strange pose—as if trying to lengthen the unconscious Ears, wanting to hear something, she swung the rocking chair with a slow rhythm.Dr. Miriam was there too, standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out into the garden below.Miss Smith stood at the other window in a ready attitude.And the one who was leaning over Louisa's rocking chair and patting her face was the sea veteran who lived next door, Captain Trevitt, his red and furry face was full of concern.

As soon as the three men stepped through the door, all of them straightened up, except for Louisa, who stopped rocking the rocking chair the moment Captain Trevitt's wrinkled hand stopped stroking her cheek.Luisa instinctively turned her head to the door suddenly, her big blind eyes were still blank, but a kind of interest flashed across her plain and pleasant facial features, one could even say an eager expression, and she began to gesticulate with her fingers. "Hello, Captain," said the inspector, "I'm sorry to meet you again on this occasion. Well! Captain Cuiwei--Prosecutor Bruno, Mr. Wren."

"It's a pleasure," said the captain, in a voice rough and deep as the ocean, "this is one of the most dreadful things that ever happened to me—I just heard the news, I'm coming to see if—is it— Is Louisa safe and well?" "She's all right, of course," said Sam heartily. "She's a brave little lady." He patted her cheek, and she flinched like an insect, gesticulating wildly with her fingers. Who, who. Miss Smith sighed, bent over the Braille board on Louisa's lap, and spelled: "Police." Luisa nodded slowly, her soft body became stiff, the lines under her eyes were deep, and her fingers moved again.

I have something that may be important to tell you. "She seems serious," murmured Sam, as he arranged the letter squares on the Braille board to form the following words. "Tell us your story. Tell us everything, no matter how small." Luisa Kabian's fingertips flew across the metal dots, she nodded again, with a horrifying expression on her lips, she raised her hand and began to narrate. Louisa's story, told through Miss Smith, is as follows: She and Mrs. Hatter had returned to her bedroom at half-past ten the night before, Louisa had dressed, and her mother had put her to bed, which was ten minutes before she went to bed. Eleven past five, she knew the exact time because she had asked her mother what time it was in sign language.

While Louisa was resting her head on the pillow with her knees up and the Braille board on her knees, Mrs Hatter told her she was going to have a bath.Louisa estimated that for about forty-five minutes thereafter she did not communicate with her mother, and then Mrs. Hatter emerged from the bathroom (she presumed) and began chatting with her again on the Braille board, albeit in an unimportant one. Little things--mother and daughter discussing Louisa's new summer dress--she was disturbed. . . . At this point, Mr. Jerry Lane politely interrupted Louisa's narrative and spelled out the following question on the Braille board: "Why do you feel uneasy?"

She shook her head sadly and confusedly, her fingers trembling slightly. I have no idea.Just, a feeling. Ryan tapped her arm in answer. While mother and daughter gossip about summer clothes, Mrs. Hatter puts on talcum powder, her post-bath routine, Louisa knows, because she smells it, and the box of talcum powder she shares with her mother is always on. On the bedside table between the two single beds. At this moment Miss Smith came in, she knew, because she felt Miss Smith touch her eyebrows, and asked her if she wanted some fruit, which she said no by sign. Ren grabbed Louisa's finger and asked her to pause: "Miss Smith, when you entered the bedroom, was Mrs. Hatter still putting on her talcum powder?" Miss Smith said: "No, sir, I guess she's just finished, because she's in her pajamas, and as I said before, the cap of the powder on the table was loosely covered, and I saw traces of powder on her. " Wren asked, "Did you notice if there was any talcum powder on the carpet between the two beds?" "The carpet is clean," said Miss Smith. Louisa continued. It was only a few minutes after Miss Smith's departure—though Louisa did not know the exact time—that Mrs. Hatter said good night to her daughter as usual, and went to bed.Louisa was sure her mother was in bed, because after a while, on a whim without knowing why, she climbed out of her bed and kissed her mother again, and the old lady gave her a happy pat on the cheek, and Louisa returned I fell asleep in my own bed. Inspector Sam interrupted: "Did your mother express any concern last night?" No.She seemed gentle and serene, as she usually is with me. "Then what happened?" Sam spelled out the question. Louisa shivered, her hands began to tremble, and Dr. Miriam looked at her anxiously: "Perhaps you'd better pause, Inspector, she's a little agitated." Captain Trevitt patted her on the head, and she quickly reached up and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.The old man blushed and withdrew his hand after a while. However, Louisa seemed to feel more at ease in her heart. She pursed her lips and began to gesture with a very fast rhythm, showing her determination to continue despite the pressure in her heart. She was awake and asleep, night and day were the same to her, and she never slept deeply.I don't know how long it took, but suddenly—of course, at least a few hours later—she woke up with a start, and although she couldn't hear anything, all her senses were on alert.She didn't know what woke her up, but she knew something was wrong, she clearly felt something strange in the room, very, very close to her bed... "Can you be more specific?" Prosecutor Bruno demanded of her. She gestures with her fingers. I have no idea.I can't explain it. Dr. Miriam hugged her tall body and sighed: "Perhaps I should explain that Louisa has always had a supernatural ability, which is a natural development of her sensory impairment. Her intuition, the so-called Her sixth sense has always been sharper than ordinary people, and I fully believe that this is a result of her complete loss of sight and hearing." "I think we can understand," replied Mr. Jerry Lane softly. Dr. Miriam nodded: "It may be just a vibration, or the smell emitted by the movement of the body, or just the feeling of approaching footsteps, which will trigger the sixth sense of this unfortunate woman." The deaf, dumb, and blind woman hurriedly continued... She woke up, and whoever was next to the bed, she felt, was someone who shouldn't be there anyway.Then again she felt a strange, invisible emotion that disturbed her—an urge to make a sound, to scream... (She opened her beautiful mouth and uttered a choked-up cat cry, completely unlike any normal human voice, which sent chills down the spine of everyone present. the little woman, uttering the distorted cry of a frightened animal.) She closed her mouth and continued to describe as if nothing had happened. Of course, she went on, she couldn't hear a thing, she'd lived in a world of complete silence since she was eighteen, but the intuition that something was wrong still lingered.Then, like an invisible blow to her sense of smell, she smelled talcum powder again.It was so strange, so unexpected, so inexplicable, and she was even more nervous than before.talcum powder!Could it be the mother?And yet—no, she knew it wasn't the mother; her disturbed instinct told her it was someone else—someone dangerous. In that chaotic moment, she decided to crawl out of bed and stay as far away from danger as possible, and the urge to flee was aroused in her heart... Ren took her fingers lightly, and she stopped.He went to the bed, Louisa's, tried it with one hand, and the springs rattled, and he nodded. "Noise," he said, "no doubt the assailant heard Miss Kabian get out of bed." He pressed her arm, and she continued to narrate. She got out of bed on the side of the bed facing her mother, walked barefoot on the carpet, and groped along her bed to the end of the bed. When she reached the end of the bed, she straightened her waist and stretched her arms. She stood up suddenly from the rocking chair, her face twitched, and then walked around to her bed with firm steps.Apparently she doesn't think she's capable enough to tell a story, and a live performance would make her story clearer.With strange dignity—like a child absorbed in a game—she threw herself on the bed in her clothes and began to reenact the pantomime in the dark.She sat up silently, with an expression of extreme concentration on her face, her head tilted to one side as if listening to something.Then she turned to the floor with her legs lifted, and the bedspring creaked, and she slid off the bed, stooping along the edge, groping for the bed with one hand.Almost at the end of the bed, she straightened up and turned, now facing away from her own bed and facing her mother's bed, with her right hand outstretched. They watched in dead silence.She experienced that terrifying moment again, and from her silent and focused attitude, they vaguely felt a kind of tension and fear.Ren almost held his breath, his eyes narrowed into a line, the scene in front of him was flickering, and all his eyes were fixed on Louisa... Her right hand stretched out straight out with the usual movements of blind people, firm and unyielding like a steel bar, exactly parallel to the floor, and Ryan's sharp eyes fell on the point where her straight fingertips were perpendicular to the carpet. Louisa sighed, relaxed a little, lowered her arms heavily, and then she began to speak with her hands again, and Miss Smith breathlessly relayed. After Louisa held out her right hand for a moment, something brushed past her fingertips, something that passed—she thought it was a nose, and then a face... actually, it was a cheek, and the face passed Her stiff fingertips... "Nose and cheeks!" exclaimed the inspector. "God, luck! Wait—let me talk to her—" Wren said: "Wait a minute, inspector, there is no need to get excited. If you don't mind, I would like to ask Miss Kabian to repeat the actions just demonstrated." He used the Braille board to let her know what he wanted.She pressed a hand to her forehead wearily, but still nodded, and walked to the bed, and they watched more intently than before. The results were astonishing.Regardless of any behavior, any posture of the head or body, or any movement of the arms, her second demonstration is completely a replica of the first! "Oh, that's wonderful!" murmured Wren. "By luck, gentlemen, Miss Kabian has a camera-like memory of body movements, like the average blind person. It helps—very much." ,too big." They were all baffled - what helped too much?He didn't explain it, but judging from the excited expression on his face, it was obvious that this had triggered a great inspiration in him-apparently there was something so outstanding that even after a lifetime of theater training on how to control facial muscles, He couldn't hide his excited reaction to the discovery of this god. "I don't see—" Prosecutor Bruno began, confused. Ryan immediately smoothed the expression on his face as if by magic, and said calmly: "I'm afraid I was too dramatic just now. Note where Miss Kabian stopped, she was standing exactly where she stood this morning--she Her shoes were almost an inch above the bare footprints at the end of the bed. Opposite her position, facing her, what was it? It was the shocking shoe prints of the murderer, so it was obvious that the murderer had come into contact with Miss Kabian's fingers. At that moment, he must be standing on the talcum powder pile - because at this point, the shoe prints on the toes of the two shoes are the clearest, as if the murderer felt those ghostly fingers protruding from the darkness and froze for a moment At that point." Inspector Sam scratched his fat chin: "Even so, is there anything special about it? That's how we see it. I can't see that...a second ago you seemed to—" "I suggest," continued Mr. Jerry Lane, "that Miss Cabian should proceed." "Hey, hey, wait a minute," said the inspector, "from the position of the woman's arm that touched the murderer's cheek, we can figure out the height of the murderer!" He gave Lane a triumphant look. The prosecutor's face darkened: "Good guess," he said sarcastically, "If you can count, unfortunately you can't." "Why not?" "Well, well, gentlemen," said Wren impatiently, "let's go on..." "Wait a minute, Mr. Wren," Bruno said in a cold tone, "Listen to me, Sam. You said that we can reconstruct the murderer's height based on the position where Miss Kabian's arm stretched out to touch the murderer's cheek, yes, of course— —if he was standing upright when she touched him!" "Uh, but..." "In fact," Bruno continued hastily, "we have every reason to assume that when Miss Kabian met the murderer, he was not standing upright, but half squatting. From the traces of his footprints, it is obvious that he Had just murdered Mrs. Hatter, was coming out of Mrs. Hatter's bed to leave the room. He might, as Mr. Wren suggested, hear the creaking of Miss Carbian's bunk. And, therefore, might be in a hurry— The instinctive reaction is to bend over and half squat." He half-smiles, "So that's your problem, Sam. How do you decide how far the killer's body bends? You have to determine that first. , to calculate his height." "Okay, okay," Sam blushed, "stop talking." He glanced at Ryan with resentment and anger, "But I know I have a sudden inspiration, like a ton of bricks, Mr. Wren , if it wasn't the murderer's height, what would it be?" "Really, Inspector," Ryan whispered, "you make me blush, do I really give you that impression?" He squeezed Louisa's arm, and she immediately went on to describe her story. Things happen so fast.The shock, the concrete image popping out of the eternal darkness, the fact that the invisible fear turned into flesh and blood made her dizzy.She panicked and felt that she was about to lose consciousness, her knees were weak, and she still had a little sense of consciousness when she fell, but the strength of her fainting must have been heavier than she knew, because her head hit the floor hard After that, she didn't remember anything until she was woken up this morning... Her fingers stopped, her arms dropped, and she sat back in the rocking chair dejectedly. Captain Trevitt patted her cheek again, and her tired face leaned on his hand. Mr. Jerry Lane, looking inquiringly at his two companions, who seemed suspicious, sighed, and went to Louisa's seat. "You omitted something, what kind of cheek do you feel with your fingers?" The shock-like reaction temporarily took away her fatigue.As if she had actually spoken, they read her expression as saying: "Why, I already mentioned that, didn't I?" Then her fingers flew up again, and Miss Smith translated in a trembling voice. It was a smooth and tender cheek. Like a bomb exploding right behind him, Inspector Sam had never been so alarmed.His big jaw seemed to drop, and his eyes stared protrudingly at the still fingers of Luisa Kabian, as if he could not believe what he saw—or heard, and Inspector Bruno watched suspiciously. Nurse. "Are you sure, Miss Smith, that you translated correctly?" Bruno asked in disbelief. "That's--exactly what she said, sir," replied Miss Smith nervously. Inspector Sam shook his head like a boxer struggling to regain consciousness after a hard blow—his habitual reaction to surprise—and gazed down at Louisa. "Smooth and soft!" he cried. "Impossible, how could it be, Conrad Hayter's cheek—" "Then, that's not Conrad Height's cheek." Mr. Jerry Lane said softly. "How can the case be handled according to the presupposition? After all, if Miss Kabian's testimony is credible, then we will The data must be rearranged. We know that the attacker was wearing Conrad's shoes last night, but we cannot conclude that just because someone wore Conrad's shoes, it must be Conrad. Germany." "You're absolutely right, and we were wrong again," Bruno murmured, "Sam—" But the stubborn Sam refused to throw away the solution in his hand so easily. He gritted his teeth and growled at Miss Smith like a vicious dog: "Ask her with those goddamn dominoes, she's not sure, ask her how smooth, Come on!" Miss Smith was terrified and obeyed immediately.Luisa eagerly touched her finger to the tablet, she nodded, and her hands spoke again. It is a very smooth and soft cheek.I am not mistaken. "Well, she seems quite sure," murmured the inspector. "You ask her, could it be her half-brother Conrad's cheek?" No.impossible.That's not a man's cheek, I'm pretty sure. "Well," said the Inspector, "that's the way it is. After all, we've got to take her word into account, so it's not Conrad, it's not a man, it's a woman, my God, at least we're sure of that! " "She must have worn Conrad Height's shoes to create a false lead," commented the prosecutor, "that would show that the talcum powder was knocked over on purpose. marks, and the police will certainly be looking for matching shoes." "Do you think so, Mr. Bruno?" Wren asked. The prosecutor replied unhappily: "I am neither joking nor trying to be smart." Wren went on worriedly: "There's something absurd about it." "What's so strange?" Sam asked. "It seems to me, as Bruno just said, to start closing the case, so simple and clear." "The case is still open, Inspector, and I'm sorry to have to say this, and it's far from closed." Wren arranged the metal letters of the Braille board and spelled out the question: "Is that cheek you touched? Could it be your mother's?" Then she protested— No.No.No.Mother's face is wrinkled.is wrinkled.This one is smooth.is smooth. Ryan smiled sadly.Everything expressed by this abnormal woman has a sense of truth that cannot be distorted.Sam walked to and fro with leaden steps, Bruno looked thoughtful, Captain Trevitt, Dr. Miriam, and Miss Smith stood silent. Ren seemed to have made some kind of decision, and he arranged the metal blocks again: "Think carefully, do you remember anything—any—other things?" She looked hesitant after reading the question, resting her head on the back of the rocking chair.Her head was shaking from side to side—like a slow, forced movement of denial, like something lingering on the edge of memory, refusing to show itself. "Sure enough," Ren stared at the expressionless face and whispered excitedly, "It just needs to be revealed!" "No," Ryan said, "it's not enough." He paused for a moment, and then continued slowly, "We are facing a witness who has lost two of his five senses. The witness's means of communicating with the outside world, Only the senses of taste, touch, and smell remain. Any response this witness receives through the remaining three senses is the only clue available to us." "I've never thought about it that way," Bruno said thoughtfully, "and, yes, she's given us a clue through touch, maybe—" "Exactly, Monsieur Bruno. Of course, it may be futile to expect clues from taste. But smell! We have every reason to believe that... if she were some kind of animal, say, a dog, capable of communicating using sensory impressions , then things will be much simpler! However, this special situation is not completely impossible, her olfactory nerve may be more developed than ordinary people..." "What you said..." Dr. Miriam whispered, "is exactly right, Mr. Wren. There are many debates in the medical world about sensory impressions, but Louisa Kabian is a wonderful answer to these debates." . Her fingertips, the taste buds on her tongue, and the sense of smell in her nose, those nerves, are all very sharp." "Pleasantly said," said the inspector, "but I—" "Be patient," Wren said. "We might make a big discovery. We're talking about smell, and she's confirmed that talcum powder smells when it's tipped over—that's an extraordinary sensitivity. Almost impossible..." He bent down quickly to rearrange the metal blocks on the Braille board. "Smell. Do you smell anything other than talcum powder? Think about it, smell." As her fingers fumbled across the Braille on the board, a triumphant yet bewildered expression slowly emerged on her face, and her nostrils twitched vigorously.It was obvious that she was wrestling with the memory, that memory was tug-of-war with her... Then, the dawn appeared, and she let out that chilling wild cry that seemed to come out of her mouth when she got excited, Her fingers were busy again. Miss Smith stared at the sign language and said, "It's unbelievable, she knows what she's talking about..." "What?" The prosecutor exclaimed with a shock in his heart. "Why, you know," the nurse went on in the same blank tone, "she said that at the same time she touched that face and fell unconscious, she smelled . . . " "Quick, quick!" cried Mr. Jerry Lane, his eyes blazing, fixed on Miss Smith's plump lips, which hesitated to speak. "What does she smell?" Miss Smith laughed uneasily. "Er—like ice cream, or cake!" For a while, they stared at the nurse, and the nurse stared back at them, even Dr. Miriam and Captain Trevitt seemed to be stunned, and the prosecutor repeated the words dumbly, as if he couldn't trust his ears, Sam looked sullen. Ryan's tense smile disappeared, and his face was just confused: "Ice cream or cake," he repeated slowly, "weird, very weird." The Inspector laughed nastyly: "Look," he said, "she's not only deaf, dumb, and blind, for God's sake, but she's inherited madness from her mother's family, ice cream or cake! , It’s a farce.” "Come on, Inspector... Maybe it's not as crazy as it sounds, why would she think of ice cream or cake? There's very little in common between the two, except for the nice smell. Maybe—yes, I Believe me, this may be more serious than you think." He adjusted the metal letters: "You said ice cream or cake. Unbelievable. Maybe powder, face cream." Her fingers fumbled with the Braille board, and there was silence. No.Not a woman's makeup powder or face cream.It's—well, like cake or ice cream, only stronger. "Not clear enough. It's a sweet scent, isn't it?" yes.sweet.Intense sweetness. "Intense sweetness," Ryan murmured, "Intense sweetness." He shook his head and asked another question, "Maybe it's the scent of flowers?" perhaps…… She hesitated, wrinkling her nose, trying to recapture the scent of hours ago. yes.is a flower.A rare orchid.Captain Trewitt once gave me one.But I'm not sure... Captain Trevitt blinked his old eyes. It turned out that the clear blue eyes were full of surprise, and everyone's eyes were focused on him.His face was flushed red from the vicissitudes of life. "How about it, Captain?" Sam asked. "Can I do you a favor?" Captain Trevitt's old voice was broken and hoarse: "She still remembers, my God! Let me think, this...that was almost seven years ago. A friend of mine—Minister Kokeran of the Trinidad freighter—has been brought back from South America..." "Seven years ago!" the prosecutor exclaimed, "It's been so long and I still remember the taste." "Louisa is a wonderful young lady," said the captain, winking again. "Orchid," Ren pondered, "this is even more strange. What kind is it, Captain, do you remember?" The old seaman twitched his hulking shoulders. "Didn't know," he said, sounding like an old rusty capstan, "a rare kind." "Well," Lane turned to the Braille board again, "just like that orchid, nothing else?" right.I love flowers and never forget the smell of a flower.That was the only time.I smell that orchid. "The Great Secret of Horticulture," Wren said, trying to be a little lighthearted.But there was no humor in his eyes, and one toe kept tapping the floor, and the crowd looked at him with hopeless and weary eyes. Suddenly, his face lit up, he tapped his forehead: "Really! I overlooked the most obvious problem!" and busied himself arranging those little letters of metal. The question is as follows: "You said 'ice cream,' what kind of ice cream? Chocolate? Strawberry? Banana? Walnut?" Apparently they hit the right note at last, because even Inspector Sam, who was originally annoyed, looked at Ren with reverence.At this time, Luisa found Ryan's question with her fingertips, her face lit up, she nodded happily like a bird, nodded several times, and then quickly answered in sign language: now I know.Not strawberries, not chocolate, not bananas, not walnuts.It's vanilla!vanilla!vanilla! She sat impulsively on the edge of the rocking chair, her blind eyes closed, but her expression begging for praise, and Captain Trewitt stroked her hair quietly. "Vanilla!" they exclaimed in unison. The fingers flew up again. Vanilla doesn't have to be ice cream, or cake, or orchids, or whatever.Just the smell of vanilla.I am very sure.very sure. Ren sighed, and the wrinkles between his brows deepened.Louisa's gestures were so fast that Miss Smith almost had no time to translate, she had to ask Louisa to repeat the gestures. When the nurse turned to the crowd, there was a look of unbearable in her eyes. please.Can that help?I want to help.I must help, is there any, is there any help? "Miss," said the Inspector gloomily, striding up to the room, "you can bet your life on it, and that will help, a great help." Dr. Miriam leaned over and held Louisa's trembling wrist. He nodded, patted her on the cheek, and then stood back to his original position. Captain Trevitt was proud for no reason. Sam opened the door and yelled, "Pikeson! Moxiu! Whoever you are! Tell that butler to come up immediately!" Mrs. Arbuckle became tyrannical.The original shock of the police encroaching on her domain was gone.Holding the skirt of her skirt with both hands, she went upstairs panting, stopped at the foot of the stairs to catch her breath, murmured a few curses, then rushed into the dead man's room, staring at the inspector. "Hmph! What do you want from me?" She asked sternly. The inspector didn't waste any time: "Did you bake anything yesterday?" "What to bake? My God!" They faced off like two heavyweight boxers, "You know what this is for?" "Ha!" Sam replied menacingly, "dodging the question, eh? Did you bake anything yesterday?" Mrs. Abkel snorted. "I don't see...no, I don't." "You don't, uh," his jaw moved two inches forward, "do you use herbs in your kitchen?" Mrs. Arbuckle stared at him like he was out of his mind. "Vanilla? Why not ask this! Of course I use vanilla. What do you think my kitchen looks like, anyway?" "You use vanilla," said Sam shrewdly, turning to the prosecutor, winking, "she uses vanilla, Bruno... well, Mrs. Abko, have you ever used vanilla for any reason— Yesterday?" He rubbed his hands. Mrs. Abkel turned over suddenly and walked towards the door: "I'm not standing here and being played for a fool, I tell you," she said abruptly, "I'm going back downstairs, so I'm not here to answer your crazy questions. " "Mrs. Abkel!" the inspector shouted angrily. She stopped with a guilty conscience and looked around. Everyone looked at her very seriously: "Uh...no." She added weakly unwillingly, "Hey, what do you care about my housework?" "Shut up," said Sam triumphantly, "keep your mouth shut, is there any herbs in the pantry or kitchen now?" "Yes—yes, a new bottle. I ran out three days ago, so ordered a new bottle from Sutton Market, and haven't had time to open it yet." "But how is this possible, Mrs. Abko?" Wren asked kindly. "As far as I know, you prepare a bad egg yoghurt for Miss Kabian every day." "What does that have to do with this?" "Eggnog milk, I remember drinking it when I was a kid, Mrs. Arbuckle, it has vanilla in it." Sam took a step forward in surprise, and Mrs. Abko held her head up: "Excuse me, what does that prove? My eggnog milk contains nutmeg powder. Is that also against the law?" Sam stuck his head out into the hallway. "Pixon!" "yes." "Go downstairs with the butler, and bring up everything that smells like vanilla." Sam gestured his thumb to the door. "Go, Mrs. Abko, move fast." During the waiting time, no one spoke.Sam clasped his hands behind his back and walked back and forth humming a very unpleasant tune. Bruno's mind was far away, and he seemed to lose interest. Louisa sat quietly, and behind him stood the motionless Miss Smith,米里安医生和崔维特船长。雷恩站在窗边俯望着无人的花园。 十分钟以后，阿布寇太太和她的护卫一起上楼，皮克森拿着一个用纸包着的小扁瓶。 “底下各种各样的气味好多，”刑警咧嘴一笑，“但是除了这瓶香草，没有其他东西闻起来像香草，还没打开来呢，长官。” 萨姆从皮克森手中接过瓶子。标签上写着“香草精”，封条和包装都还没拆开。他把瓶子传给布鲁诺，布鲁诺漫不经心地瞧一瞧，就把它还给萨姆，雷恩仍立在窗边不动。 “旧的那瓶呢，阿布寇太太？”萨姆向。 “三天前就把它丢进垃圾里了。”管家简短地回答。 “那时已经空了？” "yes." “瓶子里还有香草精的时候，你有没有发现短缺过？” “我怎么知道？你以为我还一滴一滴地算啊？” “那可难说。”巡官故意顶嘴，他撕开包装封条，打开瓶塞，把它凑近鼻子。一阵强烈的香草味缓缓充塞整个卧房，这是纯正香草无疑，那香味饱满而且没有杂质。 露易莎·卡比安娜动身体，鼻翼扩张。她大力嗅着鼻子，头转向房间对面瓶子所在的方向，像蜜蜂远远地就嗅到花蜜一样，她的手指瞬间活络起来。 “她说就是这个——这个味道！”史密斯小姐兴奋地喊。 “她确定吗？”哲瑞·雷恩先生喃喃地问，他事前已经回过身看到护士的唇语，他踏步向前，在点字板上排出下列问句，“和你现在闻到的一样强烈吗？” 不完全一样。昨晚比较淡。 雷恩没什么指望地点点头：“家里有冰淇淋吗，阿布寇太太？” "No, sir." "Did you have it yesterday?" “没有，先生，一整个星期都没有。” “完全无法理解，”雷恩说，他的双眸如常炯炯有神，面容如常年轻有朝气，但是眉宇之间有种困乏的表情，仿佛用脑过度，“巡官，最好叫房子里所有的人立刻到这里集合。同时，阿布寇太太，偏劳你一下，请你把房子里所有的蛋糕和糖果集中带来房间。” “皮克森，”萨姆巡官吼道，“你一起去——以防万一。” 房间挤得满满的。所有人都到了——芭芭拉，姬儿，康拉德，玛莎，乔治·阿布寇，女仆维琴妮亚，艾德格·皮瑞，甚至彻斯特·毕格罗和约翰·格利，他们两人执意留在房子里。 康拉德似乎魂不守舍，一直傻傻地瞅着他身边的警察，其他人都带着观望态度……萨姆巡官先是踌躇，然后退避一旁，他和布鲁诺检察官面色凝重地旁观。 雷恩定定地站在那里等。 小孩子和平常一样，蹦蹦跳跳地随大人进来。他们在房间里乱叫乱跑，此时无人理会他们的调皮捣蛋。 阿布寇太太和皮克森捧着满怀的蛋糕和糖果盒，跌跌撞撞地进来。每个人都目瞪口呆。阿布寇太太把她的那一堆放在露易莎床上，拿手帕擦拭她瘦骨如柴的颈子，皮克森一脸嫌恶的表情，把他那一堆往一把椅子上一丢，就走出去了。 “各位先生女士，有没有私藏的蛋糕或糖果在你自己的房间里？”雷恩严肃地问。 姬儿·黑特说：“我有，我向来都有。” “能不能请你去拿来，黑特小姐。” 姬儿态度颇为庄重地走出去，一会儿之后，带着一个长方形的大盒子回来，盒子上有显眼的“五磅”两个字。一看到这个庞大的糖果盒，约翰·格利就两颊飞红，他忍不住窃笑起来，两脚在那里挪来挪去。 在众人好奇的目光下，哲瑞·雷恩先生开始进行一项工作。他把所有的糖果盒都集中在一把椅子上，然后一盒一盒地打开。一共有五盒——一盒花生片糖，一盒巧克力水果夹心，一盒硬糖果，一盒实心巧克力，还有姬儿的那盒，一一打开来，里面是一列列赏心悦目、昂贵的糖渍坚果和水果。 雷恩从五盒里面随便挑了几块，若有所思地吃了几个，然后拿几个喂露易莎·卡比安。壮小子比利看得垂涎三尺；杰奇则被这幅神秘的景象所慑服，用一只腿站着，看傻了眼。 露易莎·卡比安摇摇头。 No.没有一个是。不是糖果。I'm wrong.是香草！ “要不是这些糖果的作料里没有香草，”雷恩表示，“就是香草的成分太稀薄，吃不出来。”他对阿布寇太太说，“这些蛋糕，阿布寇太太。哪几个是你自己烤的？” 她傲慢地指出三个。 “这些你有没有用香草？” "No." “其他是买的？” "Yes, sir." 雷恩从每个买来的蛋糕，各取一小块喂那位又聋又哑又瞎的女人。她再度断然摇头。 史密斯小姐叹口气，注视露易莎的手指。 no.我没有闻到香草的味道。 雷恩把蛋糕都丢回床上，站在那里搜索枯肠。 “呃——这一大堆到底是要做什么？”律师毕格罗有点兴味盎然地问。 “很抱歉，”雷恩茫然地转身，“昨晚卡比安小姐曾和黑特太太的凶手对面相遇。她很确定在接触的一刹那，曾闻到香草的味道，想必是从凶手本身，或是他的周围发出来的，我们自然想解决这个小谜题——这可能导致一个大发现，并带来最后的成功。” “香草！”芭芭拉·黑特很有兴趣地复述，“很不可靠的线索，雷恩先生，但是露易莎的感官记忆力确实十分惊人，我相信——” “她神经病，”姬儿斩钉截铁地说，“她大半时候都是瞎编的，常常胡思乱想。” “姬儿。”芭芭拉制止她。 姬儿头一扬，但是没再做声。 他们早该料到。先是一阵混乱的脚步声，等他们稍感惊讶地转身一看，杰奇·黑特的短小身材，早像猴子一样敏捷地溜上露易莎的床铺，两手又爬又抓地搜刮糖果盒，小比利乐不可支地一边吱吱叫，跟着溜上去，两个孩子立刻争先恐后地往自己嘴里猛塞糖果。 玛莎扑过去逮住他们俩，歇斯底里地大叫：“杰奇！老天爷，你要把自己胀死……比利！马上给我住手，否则妈妈打扁你！”她猛摇两人，一巴掌把黏答答的糖果从他们拳握的指缝里打掉。 虽然满手糖果都被打掉了，比利仍一副旁若无人的样子：“要约翰叔叔昨天给我的那种糖果嘛！”他尖叫。 “怎么回事？”萨姆巡官吼道，大步赶上去，他粗鲁地把比利顽固的小下巴一板，大声咆哮，“约翰叔叔昨天给你什么糖果？” 萨姆即使在心情愉快的时候，都很难博取小男孩的信任，更何况发起脾气来，就像现在，那真是令人丧胆。比利仰首好奇地望一眼那叶扁鼻子，挣出巡官的掌握，小脑袋钻进他母亲的裙子，立即放声号陶。 “我得说，巡官，你的手腕很高明。”雷恩批评道，把萨姆推到一边，“用这种戏术，连海军军官都会被你吓坏……来，孩子，”他说着，一边在比利身边蹲下来，捏捏他的肩膀安慰他，“不要再哭了，没有人会伤害你。” 萨姆不屑地哼着鼻子，但是不到两分钟，比利已经在雷恩的手弯里破涕为笑，和雷恩聊着糖果、玩具、毛毛虫、牛仔、印第安人等好玩的东西。比利显然信心大增，这是个好人，约翰叔叔带糖果来给比利吃。when?昨天。 “也给我！”杰奇大叫，扯着雷恩的外套。 “真的啊。是什么糖果！比利？” “甘草糖！”杰奇先声夺人。 “甘草糖，”比利口齿不清地说，“好大包的。” 雷恩把小男孩放下来，看着约翰·格利，格利焦躁地抹抹颈背：“真的吗，格利先生？” “当然是真的！”格利面有愠色地说，“你不是暗示糖果被下了毒吧，但愿？我来拜访黑特小姐——我带了那个五磅盒子给她——而且，原先知道两个小男孩喜欢甘草糖，所以带了一些给他们，就是这样。” “我没有暗示什么，格利先生，”雷恩和气地回答，“也没什么别的意思，因为甘草糖并没有香草的味道。可是话说回来，我们小心谨慎也无可厚非。不过是最简单的问题，你们为什么非得要马上跳起来防御？”他又向比利弯下身，“昨天还有没有其他人给你糖果，比利？” 比利傻了眼，这个问题超出他的理解范围，杰奇把他的两条细腿四平八稳地跨在地毯上尖声说：“你为什么不问我？我可以告诉你。” “很好，杰奇小主人，我问你。” “没有，没有人给，只有约翰叔叔。” “好。”雷恩在每个孩子肮脏的手心里各塞一把巧克力，让他们回到他们母亲那里，“没事了，巡官，”他说。 萨姆挥挥手叫所有人都离开。 雷恩瞧见家教文德格·皮瑞，鬼鬼祟祟地假装无意走到芭芭拉旁边那一阶楼梯，两人一边下楼一边交头低语。 萨姆心浮气躁，不知所措，当康拉德·黑特在警察的护送下正要走出门口，萨姆说：“黑特！等一下。” 康拉德紧张地转回来：“什么——什么事？”他现在一副谨慎恐惧之状，过去所有的愚勇好斗，全消失了踪影，他倒乎惟恐不及地要讨人欢心。 “让卡比安小姐摸摸你的脸。” “摸我的脸……” “唉，我说，”布鲁诺反对地说，“你知道，萨姆，她摸到的——” “才不管那么多，”萨姆顽固地说，“我要确定一下，史密斯小姐，叫她摸摸黑特先生的面颊。” 护士无言从命。露易莎严阵以待，既苍白又紧张的康拉德靠过去她摇椅旁边，史密斯小姐把露易莎的手放在他刮得干干净净、几乎没有一点胡子的脸上。她很快地抚下来，抚上去，再抚下来，然后摇摇头。 她比划着，史密斯小姐说：“她说比这个柔嫩多了，是女人的脸，不是黑特先生的。” 康拉德站直了身子，惶恐得不得了，萨姆摇摇头：“好吧，”他万分不情愿地说，“你可以在房子里各处走动，黑特，但是不准离开房子。你，警官，随时跟住他。” 康拉德在警察尾随下沉重地走出去。萨姆说，“唉，雷恩先生，这真是一大笔糊涂账，可不是？”他放眼四周寻找老演员。 雷恩不见了。 雷恩像变魔术一样不见踪影了。他溜出房间只有一个目的，一件看似简单的工作——寻找一种味道。他从这个房间逛到另一个房间，从这层楼逛到另一层楼，走遍卧室，浴室，空房间，贮藏室——巨细靡遗。他的鼻子随时提高警觉，他闻遍每一样可以到手的东西，香水、化妆品、瓶花，甚至女人渗了香味的内衣。最后，他下楼到花园去，花了十五分钟在那里嗅各式各样的花朵。 这所有的努力，正如他原来就大致预期的，徒劳无功。 他没有在任何地方闻到任何东西，具有露易莎·卡比安闻到的那种“强烈甜美”的香草味。 等他回到楼上死者房间，再与萨姆和布鲁诺见面时，米里安医生已经走了，崔维特船长正用点字板在和露易莎进行无声的聊天。两位执法人员都很沮丧。 “你到哪里去了？”萨姆问。 “追随香味的踪迹。” “原来香味还有踪迹，哈！”没有人笑，萨姆尴尬地抓抓下巴，“没有结果吧，我猜？”雷恩摇摇头。 “嗯，我一点也不意外，到处都找不出什么线索，今天早上我们就从上到下彻底查过整个房子了，没有找到一样具体有用的东西。” “看起来，”检察官发表意见，“似乎我们手上，是又一件罕见的奇案。” “可能，可能，”萨姆应道，“可是等吃过午饭，我要去看看隔壁那间实验室，我两个月前进去过，很有可能……” “啊！对，实验室。”哲瑞·雷恩先生郁郁地说。