Chapter 14 Chapter Thirteen Investigation

The next morning, Saturday—a fine, sunny day in October—Sergeant Quinn's depressed mood was lifted by the immediate cause of Dr. Samuel Brody's delivery of Khalkis himself. and two autopsy reports of those killed. Prosecutor Simpson had to deal with matters in the office himself, so he had no choice but to appoint his deputy, Pepper, to the police officer's office at the police headquarters.When Dr. Brody sauntered in with his first cigar of the day, he found the Sergeant, Pepper, Inspector Willie, and the eager Ellery waiting for him. Dr. Brody's lanky figure slumped upright on the most comfortable chair in the room, with a cynical and unhurried demeanor: "Perhaps you want to find out about that dead Khalkis? Everything's normal here. Dr. Fullerstead's testimony is absolutely true. No tricks. He's got a heart problem, and he's suffocating if he can't breathe."

"Is there no trace of poison?" "Not at all. It's all normal. As for the second dead ghost." Dr. Brody gritted his teeth hard. "All indications are that he died before Khalkis. It's a long story." He grinned, "There are a lot of situations, so it is somewhat risky to draw accurate conclusions. The loss of body heat, the distance It's not too long now. But from the muscular changes in the corpse and the overall turn to bluish gray, we get another perspective. The bluish spots on the body surface and in the center of the abdomen due to chemical and bacterial action are already very obvious : The amount and location of the bluish-gray rotting plaques, both internal and external, indicated a seven-day gap until yesterday. Compressed gas, mucus dug from the nose and mouth, decay inside the trachea, and bowel Certain signs in the tract and spleen and stomach—all showing a period of seven days. The skin is taut, but in the most distended part—the abdomen—has begun to loosen: foul smell, weight loss—yes, I can say : Mr. Albert Greenshaw was murdered six and a half days ago, before the coffin was opened yesterday morning."

"In other words," said the sergeant, "Grimshaw was strangled somewhere in the middle of the night--late night last Friday, or dawn last Saturday." "That's true. I must add that, by all indications, the natural course of decay has been somewhat retarded. Presumably, the body must have been placed in a dry place with little air before it was buried in Khalkis' coffin. place." Ellery looked sentimental. "It's not very pleasant. My immortal soul should live in a very unreliable sack." "Do you mean that decay comes so quickly?" Dr. Brody looked interested. "Well, I have something to say, which should relieve your worries. A woman's uterus usually dies seven days after death." It's been intact for months."

"If you think that's the answer to your worries—" The police officer said impatiently: "Greenshaw was strangled, Doctor, you're all right about that, aren't you?" "There is no doubt that someone strangled him with the bare hands. It was obvious that he was strangled with the hands." "Doctor." Ellery leaned back in his chair, smoking lazily, "I gave you a sample of the spoiled water, did you test anything?" "Oh, that!" said the forensic assistant with an impatient look. "In general hard water there is a certain kind of salt—mainly calcium salts—you know that. You also know that our drinking water It's all hard water. Besides, boiling precipitates the salt. By chemical analysis, it is easy to determine from the sediment that the water was boiled or not. I can conclude that the sample you gave me shows that the colander's spoiled water It was once boiled, and after the water in the original pot was boiled, there was no water that could not be boiled.”

"Thanks for your scientific mind, Doctor," Ellery whispered. "Shut up. What else?" "No, thank you very much, doctor," said the sergeant. Dr. Brody stretched out like a cobra and limped out of the sheriff's office. "Now, we can start researching." The police officer rubbed his hands briskly and spoke.He opened his notepad, "This guy Freeland. His trip to Quebec is proven by railroad personnel, train ticket stubs, hotel records, departure time, etc. Hmmmm... Demetriou Khalkis. All day at Dr. Bellows's--it was last Saturday... Khalkis' print report--nothing; Grimshaw's fingerprints were found. It seems that everyone in the house has pressed their hands on the desks, one after another, especially during the first period of the search for the will. The fingerprints on the coffin--can't tell What a name: There are countless blurred and clear fingerprints, but when the coffin was parked in the living room, everyone in the house was around the coffin, so couldn't make out any fingerprints worth digging for... Thomas, did Piggott find anything at Baileys?"

"Everything's been checked," Willie replied, "and Pigott has tracked down the clerk who was recording the phone order. The clerk says it was Khalkis himself calling—and he's sure it's Khalkis himself: because , he said, there had been many phone calls between them before—calling last Saturday morning to order half a dozen red moiré ties; On the receipt, there is the autograph of the consignee Wegersch. Everything is normal." "Well, you should be satisfied now," said the sergeant harshly to Ellery, "though I'm a mystery to you." "Inspector, is there anything about the empty house?" Pepper asked. "Has the search been done?"

"It's boring," the officer grumbled. "A search warrant was done, but our Reed reported that after searching the place, nothing was found," Willy said in a low voice. There is no other furniture except for a big old box. Li De said that there is nothing there." "It's Reed?" Ellery said to himself, blinking in the smoke. "Now, then," said the inspector, picking up another piece of paper, "let's talk about Grimshaw again." "Okay, the prosecutor told me to pay special attention to what materials you dig up on this person," Pepper said.

"A lot of material has been dug up," the old man replied coldly. "He was released from Sing Sing Prison on the Tuesday before he was killed—that is, September 28. He hasn't had time to reform—you know, he He spent five years in prison on charges of counterfeiting. He was sent to prison three years after the crime—because he hadn’t been caught before that. Early records show that he had served two prison sentences fifteen years ago. years in prison for attempted theft of a painting from the Museum of Chicago, of which he was an employee." "That's what I meant last time," Pepper said, "when I said counterfeiting was just one of his specialties."

When Ellery heard this, his ear went straight into his ears: "Museum thieves? Isn't this a coincidence? In our hands, one is a giant art dealer and the other is a museum thief..." "There's something wrong with it," murmured the sergeant. "Anyway, let's trace his actions after September 28, when he got out of Sing Sing Prison and came here on West Forty-ninth Street." One of the hotels we went to—Pinety's, third class—he registered there under his real name, Greenshaw." "He doesn't seem to be using an alias," Pepper commented. "The brazen fellow."

"Did you question anyone in the hotel?" Ellery asked. Willie said: "Neither the day clerk at the desk, nor the manager, can come up with anything. But I've sent for the night clerk—he'll be here soon. Maybe he will. Know what's going on." "Officer, is there anything else this man is doing?" Pepper asked. "Yes, sir. Last Wednesday night, the day after he got out of prison, he was seen in a bootleg shop on West Fifty-fifth Street--one of his regular hangouts-- Met with a woman. Thomas, is Sheek here?" "Outside." Willie got up and walked out.

"Who's Sheek?" Ellery asked. "The owner of the private hotel. He has been dealing with me for a long time." Willie came in, followed by a tall, radiant man with a flushed face—a face that smiled when he met everyone, and it was obvious at a glance that he used to be a waiter.He was very uneasy: "Morning, officer. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" "Yes—yes," agreed the old man vaguely. "Sit down, Barney. I want to ask you something." Xi Ke wiped the sweat from his face: "What I'm going to talk about here is not my old friend, police officer, is it?" "Huh? You mean the thing in the glass? Absolutely not." The inspector tapped the desk. "Now, listen to me, Barney. We know that last Wednesday night there was a man named Albert Greenshaw's is a counterfeit, and he got into your den as soon as he got out of the prison. Is there such a thing?" "It seems to be the case, officer." Xi Ke turned around uncomfortably, "It's the guy who was killed, isn't it?" "That's him. I heard he was seen with a woman that night. What's the matter?" "Well, Sergeant, let me tell you." Sheek looked very friendly and old-fashioned. "They're just hanging out. I don't know the bitch-never met her before." "What does she look like?" "He has a thick head, a tall horse, and golden hair. He looks like a cow. He is estimated to be about thirty-five years old. There are wrinkles under both eye sockets." "Go on. What happened next?" "Well, they came in about nine o'clock--early; there wasn't much market then--" Sick coughed dryly—"After they sat down, Greenshaw ordered strong drinks, and the woman didn't want anything. After a while, the two of them started arguing—it seemed that they were very noisy. .I didn't know what they were arguing about, but I heard the woman's name—Lily, he called her. Like he was telling her to do something, but she wouldn't do it. She was talking , somehow fell out, and walked away. He was very excited--talking to himself. After sitting for another five or ten minutes, he left too. That's all I know, Inspector." "Lily, tall and blond, huh?" The inspector stroked his little chin and pondered. "All right, Barney. Has Greenshaw been around since Wednesday night?" "Never. I swear it, officer," Sheek blurted out. "Okay. Let's go." Xi Ke jumped up and walked out of the office easily. "Should I grab the thread of the big blond horse?" Willie quacked. "Find out, Thomas. She's probably some mistress he dated or lived with before he went to jail. Now that they're fighting, it's a sign that she's not just some random random guy he picked up just a day after he got out of jail." The person. You go and check his file." Willie walked out of the room.When he came back, a fair-faced young man pushed in, with a look of panic and nervousness in his eyes: "Inspector, his name is Baier, and he's the night clerk at the Pinetti Hotel. Go, go, idiot; People are going to eat you." He pushed Byer into the chair and looked down at him. The officer waved Willie away. "Okay, Byer," he said kindly, "let's all be friends. We'll just ask about a little thing. How long have you been working the night shift at the Pinetti Hotel?" "Four and a half years, sir." The man sat, playing with his felt hat. "Have you been at work since September 28?" "Yes, sir. Not a single night--" "Did you know a visitor named Albert Grinshaw?" "Yes, sir, I do. The papers say the man was found murdered in the churchyard on Fifty-fourth Street." "Yes, Byer. That's a good answer for you. Did you register him?" "Not me, sir. It was the day clerk who registered him." "Then how did you know him?" "It's a funny thing to say, sir." Byer's embarrassment eased. "One night during the week he was staying at the hotel, something happened—well, inscrutable, which made me remember stop him." "What night was it?" the police officer hurriedly asked, "What's the matter?" "After he stayed two nights. One night last Thursday..." "Well, sir, five people came to see this Greenshaw that night! And all within half an hour." The police officer's kung fu is really good.He leaned back, took a pinch of snuff, and seemed indifferent to Byer's words. "Go on, Bye." "That Thursday night, about ten o'clock, I saw this Greenshaw, bringing a man from the high street, and they came into the front porch together. The two of them together--talking quickly, in a hurry. I didn't Hear what they say." "What was Greenshaw's companion like?" asked Pepper. "I can't tell, sir. He's wrapped up and down—" "Ha!" said the inspector a second time. "—all wrapped up. It seemed to me that he was unwilling to be recognized. If I saw him again, I might recognize him, but I can't be sure. Later, they went to the elevator. Go, I never saw these two people again." "Wait a minute, Byer." The officer turned to the inspector. "Thomas, get the night shift elevator driver." "It's here, sir." Willie said, "Hesse can bring this man in anytime." "Okay. Go on, Baier." "Yes, I was saying it was about ten o'clock. And at that very moment--in fact, while Grimshaw and his friend were still standing there waiting for the elevator--a man came to the counter Come up, ask for Greenshaw. Ask what room he lives in. I say, 'He's over there now, sir,' as these two go into the lift; and I say, 'His room number is 314,' I say that because that's his room number, you see. There's something funny about this guy--he's like a nervous wreck; and then he walks over and waits for the elevator to come down. There's only one elevator in this hotel," said Beyer. Adding this sentence succinctly, "Binetti is a small hotel." "Well, sir, I found a woman wandering around the front porch for about a minute, also looking a little nervous. Later, she came to the reception desk and said, 'Room 314 is the next room. Empty?' I reckoned she must have overheard the questioning from the man in front. That's funny, I thought, and began to wonder if there was something amiss. Especially since she had no luggage. It's a coincidence, Greenshaw room Room 316 next door was empty. I took down the key and yelled 'Come here!' But she wouldn't allow me to call—she didn't want a waiter, she said, she was going in alone. I gave the key to She, she took the elevator up. At this time, the man had already gone up. " "What does she look like?" "Gah—if I see her again, I think I'll recognize her. She's a pudgy woman, middle-aged." "What is her registered name?" "Mrs. Stone. I could see she was trying to cover up her handwriting. It was crooked, as if it had been done on purpose." "Is it a blonde?" "No, sir. It's grey-haired. Anyway, she paid the night's rent in advance--a room without a bathroom--so I said to myself, 'It's a shame. It's just getting worse these days-- '" "Well, well, don't digress. You just said there were five of them. How about two more?" "Well, sir, within about fifteen or twenty minutes, two other men came up to the register to inquire if there was a lodger named Albert Grinshaw. If so, what room did he occupy? .” "Did these two come together?" "Not together, sir. The two men seemed to be about five or ten minutes apart." "Think about it, if you see these two people again, can you recognize them?" "Of course I do. You know," said Byer, becoming acquainted, "that it strikes me that they're all thugs, as if they're afraid to be seen. Even the one who came with Grimshaw The guy is also sneaky." "Did you see any of these people leave the hotel?" Byer's acne-prone face hung down: "I think I should pack my bags, sir. I should have kept it. But then there was a commotion—a group of showgirls came to settle the accounts—these guys must be in I slipped away in a hurry." "Where's that woman? When did she come to check out?" "This is another funny thing. When I came in the second night, I was told by the day shift that the maid who made up the room reported that no one had slept in the bed in room 316. The truth is, the key was in the door. She must have been in the Gone shortly after booking the room—must have changed her mind. That's all right, she's paid the rent in advance anyway." "What about the days other than Thursday night--Wednesday night? Friday night? Who's there at Greenshaw?" "I can't say that, sir," replied the night clerk apologetically. "As far as I know, no one at the check-in desk asked about him. He came in about nine o'clock on Friday night to settle accounts, and there was no Addresses where he was going. He didn't have any parcels with him either—another thing that impressed me on him." "You might as well go and have a look at that room," the police officer muttered to himself. "Has anyone lived in Room 314 after Greenshaw?" "Yes, sir. There have been three visits since he left the hotel." "Is it cleaned every day?" Pepper shook her head sullenly: "Even if there are any traces left, officer, it's too late now. There's nothing left to be found." "It's not a week yet?" "Er—bye," said Ellery slowly, "does that room at Greenshaw have its own bathroom?" "Yes, sir." The officer leaned back. "I realize," he said kindly, "that we can do something about it now. Thomas, get everyone involved in this case up to now, and we'll be at the Fifty-fourth East in half an hour. Gather at Eleventh Street." As Willie went out, Pepper murmured: "Why, Inspector, it would be wonderful if we could find, among those implicated in this case, who was one of Grimshaw's five guests. Especially since these people, after seeing the body, all said they had never seen Grimshaw before." "It's getting complicated, isn't it?" the officer grinned with little sense of humor. "Hey hey, that's life." "My God, Dad!" Ellery wailed.Baier saw from this person to that person, inexplicable. Willie stepped in: "Everything is fine. Hesse is waiting outside with a 'baby'—the elevator operator on the night shift at the Pinetti Hotel." There was a young Negro who drove the night elevator at the Pinetti Hotel.His face turned purple with fright: "Son, what's your name?" "My surname is Bai, sir, my surname is Bai." "Oh, that's wonderful," said the Inspector. "Well, White, do you remember that there was a man named Greenshaw who stayed at the Pinetti Hotel last week?" "Is—is that the gentleman who was knocked out?" "Sir, I remember," Xiaobai said, "I remember clearly." "Do you remember last Thursday night—about ten o'clock or so, when he accompanied another man to your elevator?" "Sir, remember." "What does the other person look like?" "I have no recollection, sir. I have no recollection, sir. I cannot recall what he looked like." "Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else take the lift up to Grimshaw's floor?" "That's a lot, sir. I can't count them all. I always used the elevator, sir. The only thing I can recall is that Mr. Greenshaw and his friend came to take the elevator and got out on the third floor." Elevator, just watch them walk into Room 314, and they shut the door behind you. Room 314 is right next to the elevator, sir." "Did they talk about something in the elevator?" The black man whimpered and said, "I'm a yellow fish head, sir. I can't think of anything." "How's the second guy's voice?" "I—I don't know, sir." "Okay, Xiaobai. It's none of your business." Xiaobai walked away straightforwardly.The officer stood up, put on his overcoat, and said to Byer, "You wait here for me. I'll be right back—I want you to identify some people for me, if you can." And walked out room. Pepper looked at the wall. "You know, Mr. Quinn," he said to Ellery, "I'm overwhelmed with this case. The prosecutor's got the whole load on my shoulders." Come on. It's the will I'm looking for, but it seems we'll never find it—where is the will anyway?" "Brother Pepper," said Ellery, "the will, I'm afraid, has been thrown out of the sky with some nonsense. I won't give up my wise opinion--I think so--I According to the method of deduction, it can be taken for granted that the will was buried with Khalkis in the coffin." "When you express this opinion, it does make sense." "I'm still confident." Ellery lit another cigarette and took a deep breath. "I can also tell who owns the will based on the circumstances, if it really still exists." "You can?" Pepper didn't believe it. "I don't know—who is it?" "Pepper," sighed Ellery, "that's a question so simple that a baby would know it. Who else but the man who buried Grimshaw?"