Roger Mystery

Chapter 28 Parker (2)
"I don't think there's any need to hide it anymore," said Hammond a moment later, "Mrs. Ferrars has sold a number of bonds in the past year, and the money has been deposited into her account and not reinvested. Her income is quite considerable, and after her husband died, she also lived a very stable life, which shows that the money has a special purpose. I asked her about it, and she said that she had to support several poor relatives of her husband, so I also I don't want to ask any more. To this day I still wonder if the money went to some woman who had an affair with Ashley Ferrars. I never dreamed that it was Mrs. Ferrars herself. In trouble."

"How much?" asked Poirot.

"Large and small add up, let's say at least [-] pounds."

"Twenty thousand pounds!" I exclaimed. "It's only been a year!"

"Mrs. Ferrars is very rich," said Poirot calmly, "and the price of murder is always very heavy."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" asked Mr. Hammond.

"Thank you, no more." Poirot stood up and said, "I'm sorry to disturb you."

"no problem, no problem."

"The word derange you used just now," I said, after leaving the house, "is usually only used to refer to insanity."

"Ah!" cried Poirot. "My English is terrible. English is a strange language. I should say disarrange, shouldn't I?"

"Remember to use disturb next time."

"Thanks, you're very particular about your words. Well, how about our friend Parker? If he had twenty thousand pounds in his pocket, would he continue to be a butler? I don't think so. Of course, he might transfer the money under a false name." In the bank, but I still believe he is telling the truth. If he is a villain, then such a villain is too short-sighted. Then the remaining possibilities are Raymond, or - er - Bran Special Major."

"Certainly not Raymond," I objected, "five hundred pounds is all he needs to lose."

"He said so himself."

"As for Hector Brant—"

"As for good old Major Brant, I can reveal a thing or two," interrupted Poirot. "Investigation is my business. After investigation, he mentioned his inheritance, which totaled nearly twenty thousand pounds. You What do you think?"

I was so shocked I could barely speak.

"Impossible," I said with difficulty. "A man as famous as Hector Brant cannot be him."

Poirot shrugged.

"Who knows? At least this guy has a long-term view. To be honest, I don't think he's a blackmailer. But you're also ignoring one possibility."

"What is possible?"

"Fire, my friend. Perhaps Aykroyd himself burned the letter with the blue envelope after you left."

"No way..." I replied slowly, "but—of course, it's hard to say. Maybe he changed his mind later."

We were at my door without knowing it, and on a sudden whim I invited Poirot to a light meal.

I thought Caroline wanted this, but I didn't expect that it was not easy to please a woman.Lunch in our family is ribs - with tripe and onions as a side.There were two sets of ribs in front of the three of them, and the atmosphere was very awkward.

But Caroline never regretted it for long.She told a big lie, telling Poirot that she ignored my taunts and was a long-term vegetarian.She gleefully praised how delicious the baklava was (I'm pretty sure she'd never had one), munched on Welsh cheese with relish, and kept emphasizing the dangers of "meat eating".

After dinner, as we sat smoking in front of the fire, Caroline made a point-blank attack on Poirot.

"Haven't found Ralph Paton yet?" she asked.

"Where can I find it, miss?"

"I thought you found him in Cranchester." Caroline said something.

Poirot was bewildered. "Cranchester? Why is he in Cranchester?"

I reminded him maliciously: "A member of our large private detective team happened to see you driving by on the curb in Cranchester yesterday."

Poirot suddenly realized and laughed: "Ah! That's it! I just went to the dentist, it's very simple. My tooth hurts, and it's much better after I went to see it. I wanted to come back right away, but the dentist refused. So the tooth was pulled out. I refused, but he insisted on pulling it out. He succeeded! Now that tooth doesn't hurt anymore."

Caroline suddenly looked downcast, like a deflated ball.

Then we started talking about Ralph Paton again.

"He's a weak man," I insisted, "but he's not bad."

"Ah!" said Poirot, "what are the consequences of weakness of character?"

"Exactly," said Caroline, "such as our James—I don't know what he would have become if I hadn't looked after him every day."

"Dear Caroline," I said displeased, "will you stop making personal attacks?"

"You have plenty of faults, James," said Caroline firmly. "I'm eight years older than you—oh, I don't mind M. Poirot knowing my age—"

"I never guessed you were so young, mademoiselle." Poirot bowed courteously.

"Eight years older than you, so I have the responsibility to take care of you. If I didn't discipline you well when I was young, God knows if you will go on the wrong path now."

"I could have married a beautiful female explorer." I muttered looking at the ceiling, exhaling a few smoke rings.

"Explorer!" Caroline snorted, "If you want to talk about a female explorer—"

She swallowed the second half of the sentence.

"What's wrong?" My appetite was whetted instead.

"Nothing. But I'm reminded of someone nearby."

She turned suddenly to Poirot again.

"James insisted that you thought the murderer was a family member. All I can say is that you are mistaken."

"I don't want to be wrong," said Poirot. "It is not my business to make mistakes."

"I've found out from James and others," Caroline said more and more vigorously, ignoring Poirot's response. "I think there are only two people in the family who have a chance to strike, and that is Ralph Paton and Flora Ackroyd."

"Dear Caroline—"

"Hey, James, don't hold me back, I know what I'm talking about. Parker met Flora at the door, didn't he? But Parker didn't hear her uncle say good night to her. Maybe she killed him before she came out gone."

"Caroline!"

"I'm not saying she's the murderer, James, I'm just saying she's a suspect. In fact, Flora is like any other young girl these days. She doesn't respect anyone better than them and thinks she knows everything." Well, she couldn't kill a chicken the way I see it. But the facts are there, Mr. Raymond and Major Brant have alibi's, and Mrs. Ackroyd has testified, and even that woman Russell seems There are witnesses - count her luck. Who's left? Only Ralph and Flora! Say what you want, I don't believe Ralph Paton is a murderer anyway. The kid we saw grown up."

Poirot was silent for a long time, watching the rising smoke ring.Finally, he finally spoke, but the absent-minded tone was contrary to his usual style, which made people quite puzzled.

"For example, there is such an ordinary person, a very ordinary person who has no murderous intentions in his heart. There is a certain character defect hidden in his bones-it is hidden so deep that no one has discovered it so far, and perhaps it will not be discovered in his lifetime. won't show it—then he'll walk his way with dignity and be respected by all. But suppose he got into trouble for some reason—maybe not, maybe he stumbled upon a secret— A man's life-threatening secret. His first instinct is to speak out - his duty as an honest citizen. Then his latent character flaws start to surface. This is a great opportunity to make a fortune - what a windfall. He wants money, he longs for it, and it's easy to get. He doesn't have to pay the price, just keep quiet. But it's only the beginning. His desire for money grows, and he longs for more money— The more the better! The gold mine that has been mined in front of him makes him intoxicated. His greed continues to expand, and his greed distorts his humanity. If the other party is a man, he can squeeze it as much as he wants—but for a woman, it is too much. Is a taboo. Because women have a strong instinct to tell the truth. How many husbands have lied to their wives all their lives, taking secrets to their graves, and how many unfaithful wives have confessed to equally unfaithful husbands, thus ruining their own Lifetime! Once they are cornered, they will ignore all consequences (of course, they will inevitably regret it afterwards), forget about personal safety, and tell the whole truth just for the moment. I think this case belongs to this case. Well, the end result of pushing too hard is to lose money. But it's not over yet. The man we're talking about is in danger of a conspiracy being revealed, and he's never going back—never going back to what he was a year ago That's him. His moral bottom line has been completely corroded, he is struggling in despair, he is fighting a lost battle, and he is ready to do whatever it takes, because revealing the truth means ruining his reputation. That's it—— He stabbed that sword!"

He stopped abruptly.These words seemed to cast a spell on the room, and the atmosphere around us was completely indescribable.His relentless analysis, and relentless reenactment of the murder scene, horrified both of us, my siblings.

"Then," he said mildly, "the short sword was drawn, and he returned to his original self, normal and amiable. But if his greed swells again, he will continue to kill."

Caroline recovered with difficulty. "You mean Ralph Paton," she said. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're not, but you have no right to try him in absentia."

The phone rang suddenly and I went to the lobby and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" I said, "Yes, I'm Dr. Shepard."

I listened for a minute or two, then answered a few words briefly, put down the receiver and went back to the living room.

"Poirot," I said, "they have detained a man in Liverpool called Charles Kent. They think he is the stranger who appeared at Finley Park that night, and they want me to go to Liverpool at once to identify him."

(End of this chapter)