Chapter 18 Chapter 17 Blemishes

Stretching out an arm that no one knows, no one knows, and caught the young Alan Cheney from a dark corner into broad daylight.To be more precise, the finger fell on him on Sunday night, October 10th, at the Buffalo airport in the dark, when he was hesitant to step into a plane bound for Chicago. The cabin of the aircraft. Arms outstretched, Inspector Hasstrong - the American gentleman with centuries of adventurous Norwegian blood running through his veins - took hold of Mr. Alan Cheney, the lad. Filled, blinded, drunk, and vicious, put on the berth of the next express across the state to New York City.

The Quinns were morose all Sunday, indifferent even to the hymns.After receiving the seized telegram, early on Monday morning, I came to the police officer's office and waited, ready to receive the disobedient who was finally brought to justice and the arrester who should be proud.Attorney Simpson and Deputy Attorney Pepper also attended the reception.The atmosphere in this section of Central Avenue is indeed pleasant. "Okay, Mr. Aaron Cheney," the police officer began kindly. At this time, the little Alan was no longer drunk, and he was more unruly and uninhibited than usual, and his emotions became more antagonistic. He slumped down on the chair , "How are you going to defend yourself?"

Allen is in the period of changing his voice, his voice is hoarse: "No comment." Simpson shouted: "Chennay, you absconded without permission, what should you do?" "I absconded?" There was resentment in his eyes. "Well, it's not considered an absconding. It's a short trip—a short vacation, okay, young man?" The policeman pursed his lips into a smile. Suddenly, "Don't be kidding, we are not dolls anymore. You ran away, why?" Little Alun crossed his arms and looked at the floor with a bully attitude. "It's not—" the sergeant groped in the top drawer of his desk—"it's not because you're afraid to stay, is it?" The scrawled note found in Wright's bedroom.

Allen's face turned pale immediately, and he looked at the note as if facing a formidable enemy: "How did it get into your hands!" He whispered. "You're in a hurry, aren't you? If you want to know, we found it under Miss Bright's mattress!" "Did she—didn't she burn it...?" "She didn't burn it. Stop acting, boy. Are you going to read it yourself, or do you want us to put a little pressure on you?" Allen kept blinking: "What happened?" The police officer turned to everyone: "He wants us to talk instead, you little rascal!"

"Miss Bright . . . is she - okay?" "She's fine right now." "What do you mean by that?" Allen jumped up from his chair, "Didn't you—?" He shook his head and sat down again, covering his eyes wearily with his hands. "Old Quinn." Simpson raised his head.The police officer cast a strange look at the young man's shaggy hair, and then walked to the corner and joined the prosecutor. "If he won't tell the truth," Simpson said in a low voice, "we really have nothing to do with him. We He could be legally charged, of course, but I don't think that would do us any good. We got nothing out of him after all."

"That's true. But there's one thing I have to get to the bottom of it before letting this kid go." The old man walked to the door, "Thomas!" Inspector Willie stepped across the threshold like a giant: "Do you want him now?" "Yes, bring him in." Willie rushed out.After a while he came back with the lanky Baier, the night clerk at the Hotel Pinetti.Alan Cheney sat very quietly, using a rigid appearance to hide his uneasy heart; he cast his eyes on Fou Baier, as if he was eager to catch some elusive object. The police officer nodded to his subject with his thumb: "Baier, do you recognize that this man was also a visitor to Rialpe Greenshaw last Thursday night?"

Baier carefully looked up and down the young man's stiff figure.Aaron looked at him with a kind of disgust that didn't understand the details.So Byer shook his head vigorously. "No, sir. He wasn't one of those visitors. I never saw the gentleman." The police officer grunted in disappointment; although Aaron didn't know what to do, he realized that he hadn't figured out anything, so he leaned back with relief. "That's all right, Byer. Go outside and wait." Byer hurriedly withdrew, and Inspector Willie leaned against the door. "Why, Chenai, are you still unwilling to explain your little escape?"

Allen licked his lips: "I want to see my lawyer." The officer threw up his hands. "My God, how many times have I heard that! So, Chennai, who's your lawyer?" "Well—it's Miles Woodroff." "Is he your family's surrogate?" said the Inspector disgustedly. "Well, that's not necessary." The Inspector plopped down in his chair and asked for advice from the snuffbox. "We're going to let you go, lad." As he spoke, he gestured with the brown snuff bottle that had been with him for many years, as if he was very reluctant to let go of the prisoner he got.As if by magic, Allen felt instantly relieved, "You can go home now. But," the old man leaned forward, "I have to say something first. If there is another such prank you did on Saturday If you don't, boy, I'll send you to prison with my own hands. Do you understand?"

"Understood." Allen murmured. "Also," continued the officer, "I tell you in no uncertain terms that you are being watched. Everything you do is being watched. So it's not in your interest if you try to run away, because all you have to do is get out of Kaji There are people watching from behind his ass at any time and anywhere. Hasstrong!"--the detective jumped up--"You send Mr. Cheney home, and stay with him at the Khalkis house Stay. Don't bother him. But every time he leaves the place, you're inseparable from him." "I see. Come on, Mr. Cheney." Hasstrong grinned grimly and grabbed the young man's arm.Allen stood up quickly, shook off the detective's hand, raised his shoulders in a quarreling gesture, and strode out of the office, with Hasstrong closely following him.

Now comes the mention of Ellery Queen, who remained silent throughout the situation.He has been admiring his perfect nails, and raised his pince-nez to the light, as if it was a rare thing he had never seen before. He sighed a few times, smoked a few cigarettes, and tried his best to stabilize his emotions , as if just cried a while ago.He only showed a little interest when Chennai met Baier; but when Baier couldn't identify him, this interest immediately disappeared. As soon as Cheney and Hasstrong left, after the door was closed, Ellery's ears perked up again when Pepper said the following: "In my opinion, prosecutor, he killed someone but Get away with it."

Simpson said calmly, "Pepper, with your resourcefulness, what can we do with him?" "Well, he ran away, didn't he?" "That's true! But can you convince a jury that a man has committed a crime simply because he has escaped?" "That's the way it is," Pepper insisted. "It's all nonsense," the officer interrupted. "Pepper, you should understand that we can't produce any real evidence. Just keep him under control. We'll find out if there's anything suspicious about this guy... Thomas, what's on your mind? It looks like you want to talk about something too?" Indeed.Inspector Willie turned his face from one person to another, opened his mouth, and closed it again because he couldn't get in.Now he took a deep breath and said, "I made these two wait outside!" "The woman who quarreled with Greenshaw in Barney Schick's private saloon, and her husband." "What!" the officer huffed and stood still. "Good news, Thomas. How did you find her?" "Take a clue from Greenshaw's file," Willy said in a low voice. "Her name is Lily Morrison—she was with Greenshaw. She married when Greenshaw was in prison." "Go get Barney Sheek." "Also let him wait outside." "You're really good, bring them all in." Willie Rodden went out, and the Inspector sat and leaned back in the swivel chair, hopeful.After a while, the inspector came back with the red-faced tavern owner. The police officer signaled him to be silent, and Willy immediately went out through another door.Willie soon brought in a man and a woman. The man and woman walked in hesitantly.This woman is really a charming goblin in Norse mythology—a tall horse with golden hair, sturdy and pungent.The man was just the right match for her--gray hair, heavy build, about forty, with an Irish nose and black eyes that blazed fiercely. Willie said, "This is Mr. and Mrs. Jessie Odell, Sergeants." The officer pointed to the chairs, and they sat stiffly.The old man began to flip through the papers on his desk—a purely mechanical gesture of grandeur.They were indeed affected, and their eyes stopped looking around the office and focused on the old man's bony hands. "Well, Mrs. Odell," began the Inspector, "don't be afraid; it's just a formality. Do you know Albert Greenshaw?" They met each other's eyes, and she immediately looked away: "Why - do you mean the person who was found suffocated in the coffin?" She asked.Her voice seemed to have something stuck in her throat.Ellery felt his throat hurt too. "Yes. Do you know him?" "I—no, I don't. But I read the papers." "I know." The officer turned to Barney Schick, who was sitting motionless against the wall. "Barney, do you know this lady?" The Odells were shocked immediately, and the woman couldn't even breathe.Her husband held out his hairy hand to hold her arm, and she did her best to force herself to be calm. "Of course I do," Schick said.His face was dripping with sweat. "Where did you see her last?" "In my store on Forty-fifth Street. A week ago—less than two. It was Wednesday night." "Under what circumstances?" "Huh? Oh. With that pigtailed fellow—Grimshaw." "Was Mrs. Odell quarreling with the dead man?" "Hey." Sheek said with a playful smile, "It's just that he wasn't dead at the time, officer--there won't be any noise when he's dead." "Don't talk nonsense, Barney. Do you recognize that it is this woman who is with Greenshaw?" The Inspector turned to Mrs. Odell: "And you say you have never seen Albert Grinshaw, and do not know him?" Her thick lips began to tremble. Odell leaned forward, his face strained. "If my wife says she doesn't know," he growled, "it means she doesn't know—you know?" The officer thought for a moment. "Huh," he murmured, "there's an article in it... Barney, boy, have you seen this murderous Irishman here before?" He held out his thumb, Tap the big Irishman. "No, I can't say I've seen it." "Okay, Barney. Go back to your business." Sick stood up and walked out. "Mrs. Odell, what's your maiden name?" Her lips trembled twice: "Morrison." "Lily Morrison?" "How long have you been married to Odell?" "Well," the old man pretended to search the file again, "you just listen to me, Mrs. Lily Morrison Odell. I have a clear file here. Five years ago, there was an Albert Green Shaw was arrested and sent to Sing Sing Prison. At the time of his arrest, there was no material linking him to you—this is true. However, for the past few years, you lived with him in... Inspector Willie, What's the address?" "1045 Tenth Street," Willie said. Odell jumped up, his face flushed purple: "Living with him, is that her?" he howled, "what kind of bastard dares to say that to my wife, I will kill him! Be careful, you old man Cowhide! I want to beat—" He gathered his momentum and raised his two big fists in the air.Then his head threw back with such force that it nearly snapped the back of his neck; and Inspector Willie, with his pincer-like fingers, seized the man by the collar and tore his head in this way. Substance. Willie shook Odell twice, like a doll shaking a toy.Odell opened his mouth wide, and found that he had been slammed into the chair. "Be nice, you fool," Willis said gently, "don't you understand that you're threatening the officer?" He held Odell by the collar; I can't breathe. "Well, Thomas, I know he'll know," said the inspector nonchalantly. "And now, Mrs. Odell, I was talking about—" Seeing her burly husband subdued, the woman swallowed in panic, "I don't know anything. I don't understand what you just said. I never knew a man named Greenshaw." Man. I've never seen—” "Never, ever, Mrs. Odell. Why, then, did Grimshaw come after you as soon as he got out of jail two weeks ago?" "Leave him alone!" grunted the giant. "I don't. I don't." The police officer cast sharp eyes on the man: "I can arrest you just because you refuse to assist the police in investigating the murder, do you understand?" "Let's wait and see, try arresting me," Odell murmured, "I have a background, I have connections. I want you to go around. I know Wu Liwen in the government..." "Mr. Prosecutor, did you hear that? He knows Wu Liwen from the government." The police officer sighed. "This man suggests that there is a way to open the back door... Odell, what are you doing?" "I don't do business." "Oh! You live aboveboard. What is your trade?" "I'm a waterworks contractor." "So that's what you do for your connections... Where do you live, Irishman?" "Brooklyn—Fleibusch." "Thomas, does this guy have a criminal record?" Inspector Willie loosened Odell's collar: "He has never committed a crime, sir." He said regretfully. "It seems to have turned from evil to righteousness." "How is it?" Mrs. O'Dell was triumphant and poised. "So you're admitting that there was something in you that needed to be corrected?" Her eyes were wide, like a bull's; yet she would not speak. "I propose," said Ellery slowly, sitting still in his chair, "that Mr. Byer, who knows everything, be brought in." The officer nodded to Willie, and Willie went out, coming in almost immediately with the night clerk. "Identify this man, Byer," said the sergeant. Baier's Adam's apple moved violently.He pointed a trembling finger at the suspicious, scowling Jessie Odell: "It's him! It's him!" he shouted. "Ha!" The police officer stood up, "Baier, who is he?" Baier was stunned for a moment: "Hey," he said to himself, "I can't seem to remember clearly—God, I remembered! This is the second last one, just before that bearded doctor!" His tone became sure. "He's the Irishman—the big man I told you about, Sergeant. I remember now." "All right, Bye. You can go home now." Baier left.Odell's gigantic bus came down; there was a look of despair in his black eyes. "Now, how about it, Odell?" He shook his head like a crumbling boxer: "How about what?" "The person who walked out just now, have you seen it before?" "Do you know who he is?" "He's the night clerk," said the inspector cheerfully. "He's from the Pinetti Hotel. Been there?" "He said he saw you at his counter on Thursday, September 30th between ten and ten-thirty in the evening," "Ask at the check-in desk if there is a lodger named Albert Grinshaw." "You got the room number from Byer and you went upstairs. It's room 314, Odell. Remember? It's an easy number to remember . . . how?" Odell stood up. "Listen. I'm a taxpayer. I'm a decent citizen. I don't know what the hell you guys are up to. This ain't Russia!" he yelled. right! Come on, Lily, let's go—they have no right to keep us here!" The woman stood up obediently.Willie stepped behind Odell, and it looked as though a fight was about to begin; but the officer motioned Willie to step aside, keeping his eyes on the Odells, and they moved slowly, then with amusingly quick movements. Walking towards the door, the two rushed out and walked away. "Send someone to keep an eye on them," said Officer Quinn in the darkest voice.Willie followed the Odells out. "I've never seen such a stubborn witness," Simpson said to himself. "Where does this begin?" Ellery murmured, "You heard Mr. Jesse M. O'Dell, Simpson, did you hear that? Saying that Soviet Russia isn't Soviet Russia. It's the same good old red propaganda. Good old Russia! Our batch What would happen to noble citizens if they departed from this?" "It's a tricky thing, dare I say it," began Pepper. "That fellow, Grimshaw, must be entangled with a whole series of private affairs." The policeman spread his hands helplessly, and everyone was silent for a long time. However, as Pepper and the prosecutor stood up to leave, Ellery said with relief: "There's a good quote from Drance: 'No matter what happens, we're fine with it.'" Until Monday evening, the Khalkis case remained fraught with no progress.The policeman cared about the policeman's business, which was all sorts of things; Ellery cared about Ellery's business too--his business consisted mainly of consuming a lot of cigarettes, pulling out a small volume of Sappho's poems from his pocket, flipping through them, and reading a passage. , and sat on the leather chair in his father's office from time to time, thinking about it with ups and downs.It seems that the famous saying above by Transse is easy to talk about, but it is not easy to implement it in practice. Just as Police Officer Quinn finished his day's routine work and planned to go back to Quinn's mansion, which was not much happier than here, with his son, at this moment, shocking news came.In fact, the officer was already putting on his coat, and Pepper burst into the office, flushed and ecstatic.He held a letter high above his head, waving it. "Officer! Mr. Quinn! Look at this." He threw the letter on the table and kept pacing up and down. "Just arrived. It was addressed to Simpson, as you can see from the envelope. The prosecutor is out--the secretary opened it and handed it to me. Great, you see!" Ellery stood up quickly and walked over to his father.The father and son looked at the envelope together.It was a cheap envelope; it was addressed on a typewriter; and, judging by the postmark, it had been dropped at the downtown post office that morning. "Well, well, what letter is it?" the policeman said to himself.He carefully pulled the letter out of the envelope, the paper was as cheap as the envelope.When I unfolded it, there were a few lines on the letter paper typed with a typewriter—no date, no title, and no name.The old man read it aloud, very slowly: "What do you think of the situation," Pepper cried? Quinn and his son looked at each other, and then looked at Pepper: "It would be interesting if it is true," the police officer commented, "However, it may be nothing more than a strange letter." "Even if it was true, I don't see it as a big deal," Ellery said calmly. Pepper's face darkened: "Hey, fuck it!" He said, "Sloan insisted that he never saw Grimshaw, did he? If they were brothers, it would be a big deal, wouldn't it be?" ?" Ellery shook his head: "Pepper, what's the article? Is it based on the fact that Sloan is embarrassed to admit that one of his brothers is a repeat offender? What's more, at that time, his brother was murdered. What about it? It’s nothing special, I think, the reason why Sloane denied it is nothing more than fear of losing his identity and losing face.” "Well, that's not necessarily the case," Pepper said stubbornly. "I can guarantee that the prosecutor's opinion is the same as mine. Officer, how are you going to deal with this situation?" "The first thing, after you two idiots have debated it thoroughly," the police officer commented sarcastically, "let us study and study and see what clues we can find in this letter." He walked to the intercom, " Is it Miss Lanbo? This is Officer Quinn. Please come to my office for a while." He turned around with a smile, "Let's listen to the opinions of experts first." Enna Rambo came, a thin young woman with a little greasy gray in her black hair: "Officer Quinn, what's the matter?" The old man threw the letter to her across the table: "Can you see any clues from this letter?" Unfortunately, she couldn't figure out what to do.She could only point to the fact that the letter was typed on a rather new and well-worn "Enderwood" typewriter, on which slight imperfections could be clearly discerned in certain characters, and that Besides, she could tell nothing of value.But she was sure that if she came across any document typed on the same typewriter, she would recognize it. "Well," grumbled the Inspector, after dismissing Enna Lambert, "it seems that even the experts won't work wonders for us." He sent Inspector Willie to take the letter to Police Headquarters The laboratory went to take pictures and conduct fingerprint examination. "I've got to find the prosecutor," said Pepper bitterly, "and tell him about this letter." "Go ahead," said Ellery, "and you might as well tell him that my father and I are going down to Thirteen, East Fifty-fourth Street, right now, to check it out—we'll do it ourselves." The police officer was as surprised as Pepper: "What do you mean, you idiot? Reed has checked the empty house in Knox - you know it. How did you come up with this idea again?" ?” "The idea," Ellery replied, "is a fool's errand, but its purpose is self-evident. In short, I have no doubts that Reed, whom you hold in high esteem, Loyal, but I'm always a little uneasy about his powers of observation." "It seems to make sense," said Pepper. "In any case, Li De is not sure that he has not been negligent." "Nonsense!" the police officer said decisively, "Li De is one of the people I can trust the most." "I've been sitting here all afternoon," Ellery sighed, "reflecting on my own mistakes, and thinking about this complicated case that keeps posing difficult problems. I can't quite accept your statement, my lord father: Reed is you One of the most trustworthy personnel. Therefore, I decided to go to the site to see for myself." "You don't always think that Li De is—" the police officer was very surprised. "In good conscience, it's a Christian catchphrase—no," replied Ellery. "Reed is honest, dependable, courageous, hardworking, and the best of his trade. Pity." What's more--from now on, I believe in nothing but these eyes and this sleepy brain given to me by the omnipresent, unprejudiced, insensitive and insightful Almighty God .”