Roger Mystery

Chapter 6 The Man Who Grows Zucchini (1)
At lunch, I informed Caroline that I was going to Finley Park for dinner.Not only did she not object, but she also strongly agreed with it.

"Brilliant," she said, "you can hear the story from beginning to end. By the way, what happened to Ralph?"

"Something happened to Ralph?" I was taken aback. "No way."

"Then why doesn't he go back to Finley Park, but stays at The Three Boars?"

Since Caroline claimed that Ralph Paton was hiding in the little hotel in the village, that was enough, and I didn't need to question it.

"Ackroyd told me that Ralph was still in London," and in my moment of astonishment I forgot the important rule of keeping the word out.

"Oh!" Caroline exclaimed, and the tip of her nose trembled habitually, "He checked into the 'Three Wild Boars' yesterday morning, and he is still here right now. He even asked a girl out with him last night."

I am not surprised by this.It could be said that Ralph had a date with a girl almost every night.But I wondered how he could come to Kings Albert to have fun instead of the big city with its lights and lights.

"Is he dating some barmaid?" I asked.

"No, I just know he's going on a date, but I don't know who it is."

(It would be wrong for Caroline to admit defeat.)
"But I guessed it." My sister is really indomitable.

I am patiently waiting for the next one.

"It's his cousin."

"Flora Aykroyd?" I startled.

Of course, Flora Aykroyd was not actually related to Ralph Paton.But for many years people have regarded Ralph as Ackroyd's biological son, so the two are naturally cousins.

"That's Flora Aykroyd," said my sister.

"But if Ralph wants to see her, why doesn't he go to Finley Park?"

"Secret engagement," Caroline was very proud. "It must be kept from old Aykroyd, so we can only meet secretly."

Caroline's theory was full of flaws, but I refrained from pointing it out.Then we changed the subject and made some innocuous comments about our new neighbors.

The house next door was called "The Larch" and a stranger had recently moved into it.What makes Caroline furious is that she can't find out any information about this person at all, only that he is a gringo.Her brain trust also failed.It stands to reason that this person should be the same as everyone else, needing milk, vegetables, tenderloin, and occasionally some cod, but the people who often deliver to him don't seem to have captured any information.Everyone knew him only as Mr. Poirot—a name with an indefinable sense of unreality.It is understood, however, that he likes to grow zucchini.

But what Caroline valued was naturally not this kind of information.She wanted to find out where Mr. Poirot was from, what he did, whether he was married, who his wife was (deceased or not), whether he had children, what his mother's maiden name was—and so on.The person who can make up the long list of questions on the passport probably has a heart-to-heart with Caroline.

"My dear Caroline," I said, "that man's profession is clear. He's a retired barber. His mustache says it all."

Caroline disagreed, saying that if the guy had been a barber, he would have had curly hair, not straight.All hairdressers are no exception.

I cite a few barbers I know who have straight hair, but Caroline denies it.

"This man is really unpredictable." She complained full of grievances. "I asked him to borrow some gardening tools a few days ago. He was very polite, but his tone was very strict, and he couldn't ask anything. In the end, I had to ask him directly. Was he French, he said no - and then I couldn't ask any more."

My interest in this mysterious neighbor can't help but grow a bit.Anyone who can shut up Caroline and make her return without success like she did with the Queen of Sheba is definitely not an ordinary person.

"I believe," said Caroline, "that he had one of those new vacuum cleaners—"

Seeing her lost in thought, I knew that she had found a good opportunity to visit again, so I took the opportunity to sneak into the garden.I have always liked playing with flowers and plants.While he was busy uprooting the dandelion, someone suddenly shouted a warning, and immediately a heavy object flew past his ear, and hit his feet heavily with a plop.It turned out to be a zucchini!

I raised my head angrily, and a face protruded from the wall on the left.I saw an egg-shaped head dotted with strands of black hair of unknown origin, a bushy mustache, and alert eyes.This is our mysterious neighbor, Mr. Poirot.

As soon as he opened his mouth, he apologized repeatedly: "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to. I've been growing zucchini for months, and I suddenly found them so disgusting this morning that I was going to throw them out-oops! Think Thinking about it, I did it. I plucked the biggest one and threw it over the wall. I'm sorry, sir, I'm so ashamed."

I have apologized to this point, and I can't help but feel angry.Anyway, this poor zucchini didn't hit me.But I sincerely hope that this new friend hasn't developed a habit of throwing big vegetable trees over walls, otherwise he would never be a good neighbor to us.

The eccentric little man seems to have read my mind.

"Ah! no," he exclaimed, "don't worry too much, I'm not in the habit of doing that. But you can put yourself in your shoes, sir, who have worked so hard for most of your life to enjoy happiness so easily, and find that In the end, I still think about the exhausting days. The job I was eager to kick away, but now I can’t let go of it, what’s it like?"

"Well," I replied slowly, "it's human nature. In my case, I accidentally inherited an inheritance a year ago, which is enough to help me realize my dream-I have always wanted to travel, see The outside world. Well, that was a year ago, and now—I'm still here."

The dwarf neighbor nodded: "Habits can bind people's hands and feet. We work hard for one goal. After we achieve our wish, we start to miss the hard work day after day. To tell you the truth, my work is very interesting. The most interesting job in the world."

"What is it?" At that moment, I was possessed by Caroline.

"Study human nature, sir!"

"That's right." I replied politely.

He was a retired barber, after all.Who better understands the mysteries of human nature than the barber?
"And I have a friend who has been with me for years. He is frighteningly stupid at times, but he is very close to me. Let me tell you, I even miss his stupidity, his innocence, his utter innocence. The honest look on his face, the way he was surprised by my extraordinary talent - I miss him more than words can express."

"He died?" I asked with great sympathy.

"No, he's alive and well and doing well—but on the other side of the world. He's settled in Argentina."

"In Argentina." I couldn't help being envious.

I've always wanted to go to South America.Sighing, I looked up and found Mr. Poirot looking at me with pity. It seems that he is still a kind and understanding dwarf.

"Do you want to go to Argentina too?" he asked.

I shook my head and sighed again.

"I could have done it a year ago," I said, "but I was so stupid--stupid as ever--not greedy enough to spend all my money on it, and it all went down the drain."

"Understood," said Mr. Poirot. "You speculate?"

I nodded sadly, but secretly laughed in my heart.The little man felt rather vain, with an air of seriousness.

"Could it be Bochupine oil field?" He asked suddenly.

My eyes widened.

"Honestly, it was considered, but it ended up going to a gold mine in Western Australia."

The new neighbor regarded me with an unfathomable strangeness.

"It's all fate."

"What fate?" I was really annoyed.

"Fate has arranged for me to be neighbors with a man who really cares about the Boch Pine oil field and the gold mines of Western Australia. Tell me, don't you also have a soft spot for blondes?"

I stared at him with my mouth open, but he laughed out loud.

"No, no, I'm not mentally ill. Take it easy, it's a stupid question. To tell you the truth, the friend I mentioned was a young man who not only thought all women were good-natured, but most of them They are all beautiful. But you are middle-aged and a doctor, and a doctor must have a deep understanding of all the absurdities and vanities in our lives. Well, well, we are neighbors after all, please Be sure to accept my best zucchini as a gift for Sister Ling."

He bent down, complacently picked out an extra-large zucchini and handed it to me, and I quickly took it respectfully.

"Really, this morning was really worthwhile," said the little dwarf cheerfully. "I didn't expect my good friend to go to the ends of the earth, and I would meet someone like him here. By the way, there is something I want to say." I ask you: You know everyone in this little village, no doubt. So, who is that handsome young man with black hair and black eyes? He walks with his head up and a calm smile on his lips."

After his description, the answer is already obvious.

"It must be Captain Ralph Paton," I answered calmly.

(End of this chapter)