Chapter 7 Chapter Six

The third meeting felt like I was interrogating Inspector Mitchell.While I was re-describing what happened, he fidgeted in his chair, playing with the pen in his hand, rubbing his scalp, adjusting his tie, or looking around to avoid my gaze. That's it, I end with this sentence, same story.Word for word. No, he murmured, this time was different. What's the meaning?I asked him, did I say something wrong? He reached into the pouch on the floor, pulled out a file, pushed it toward me, and nodded, so I opened it.It was pages of typewritten documents.What's this? This is a physical trace report from a crime scene.

It looks very detailed. If you get to page four, you'll see the record of the shards of glass found on Mrs. Farrell's coat. so what? That bottle of wine is sold in the supermarket.Shards scattered all over her body, pierced her skin and stuck to her coat.The bottle happened to match the item on the receipt in Mrs. Farrell's car. Well, glad the truth finally came out, I said, I was wondering what happened to the vodka bottle. do not talk.Mitchell said. What's wrong? He got up and paced up and down the room.I hate this bird case.He said. Why? It didn't work out, he said, first that the villain who stole from her was not the same person who murdered her.Now this episode pops up again.

I'm sorry, I said, I don't understand He sat down and held out a fat finger to me.Listen, he said, you remember our deduction? is your inference. Mrs. Farrell knocked you down.She hurried over to take care of you, the door was unlocked, and the shopping was also placed in the car.She was attacked, robbed, murdered and dumped.Then, a few hours later, from William.Morris' gang of thugs helped themselves to the booze she bought.For all we know, they drank the vodka on the spot, threw the empty bottle into the alcove in front of No. 54, and smashed it to pieces. He paused, staring at me meaningfully.

What's wrong with this? Yes, he said, of course there were problems.They tossed the bottle, where it should have landed on Mrs. Farrell. So it just missed. what?Mitchell sarcastically said, so someone has to lift her body and move the broken glass under it? Maybe someone else drank vodka.It is also possible that it is the same person as the murderer. Mitchell threw another dossier at me.The fingerprint report, he said, was that the gang of teens had drunk it.Her body was left there after the bottle was smashed. If the above discussion is true, it may be those gangsters who killed her.

So she sat in the car for three hours? Humans do weird things.Maybe she was locked out of the house. Oh, stop the bullshit, Mitchell said exhaustedly, she had the key.And no one was in the damn car.So where did she go for those few hours?The door is unlocked, and the shopping is in the car?Why did you come back after that? You brought me here to ask me this? He leaned over the tabletop.I want you to be sure, 100 percent sure, that you've told me everything you know. I said it all.I said. Well, he said, say it again. On the way to the bedroom, I looked up and saw Dalio looking down from behind the railing, waving at me with a clumsy, conspiratorial expression.how?

Come up.He said in a breathy voice. I shrugged and walked up the stairs to the second floor where he and Mike lived.Mike kept the door shut, as usual, but Dalio opened it wide.Maybe he couldn't close the door at all: half-full paint buckets, dry paintbrushes, bottles of turpentine, a rusty saw, and oddities he picked up from scrap cars and dumps all over East London , blocked the doorway and spread to the corridor.As I stepped over a broken tennis racket and around a table propped up on trestles, the room was filled with an indescribably filthy and sweet stench.Finding a bed was difficult among his piles of old furniture: two stacked desks, one of which had no legs; wooden towel racks; Overflowing mugs; large blue leather trunk with brass handles: three trapezoidal chairs in varying degrees of damage; an armchair piled high with laundry: a supermarket trolley missing a wheel: a chest of drawers with small carvings ; two cardboard suitcases Dalio always said he was going to fix them up and sell them.

What's wrong?I asked him. please sit down. where to sit You can lie in the hammock, he said, or I found some deck chairs a few days ago, and now I can unfold them.But the recliner is a bit unstable. I'm fine standing up.What's up? I just want to know what the police are looking for you this time. I briefly mentioned Mitchell and what was bothering him, and Dalio lit a joint and took a deep drag.For a moment, a sweet smell filled the room.He flicked the ash on the floor and offered me the joint, but I shook my head politely. It's annoying enough.He said. He thought we might have been nearby at the time of the incident.I'm not quite sure why he thinks that way, but even he can't tell why.

This case is going to end up being ugly, Dalio said, which means for me. do you know?I said, no matter how hard I racked my brain, there was one thing I just couldn't remember. Well, tell me. I have always been concerned about this matter, that is, when I fell off the bicycle, besides you and Dawei who came to visit, I vaguely remember that there were other people present.Could it be that I have a concussion? I think you are knocked out. I had to give up.I can't think about it anymore, it makes my head hurt.I'm going to make a cup of coffee. I will go with you.As he spoke, he followed me downstairs to the kitchen.Mike was sitting at the dining table peeling peanuts. With a resolute look in his eyes, he threw peanuts into the air one by one, trying to catch them with his mouth.I say hello to him, but he keeps catching, but one of the nuts bounces off his nose.I went to the back door and gazed out at the small, narrow vegetable garden outside.Let's go out, go to a bar, watch a movie, whatever, I said, anyway, I just don't want to stay home and talk about dead people.

Yet at this very moment, we hear the door opening and closing, and the sound of footsteps on the stairs: the deliberate, graceful Miles and Leah are back.Lia was so kind, carrying two bottles of chilled white wine for the whole family; but she also carried a retractable metal measuring tape and a notebook.She poured herself some wine and unfolded the measuring tape. Well, she said cheerfully, let's get to work. Do you have any plans?I asked. We intend to design this home to be comfortable.Leah said. It's snug already, Dalio said wistfully, and I just finished painting it. It was too dark in the room.We've got to get it out there and use every inch of it.It had better be well lit, all the way to the garden, and Leah turned a deaf ear to his words, and went on, even if one was indoors, it had to feel like it was outside.

Listen to architects talking shit.Mike said. Leah stared at him intently, and Mike glared back, not to be outdone, before throwing a nut at the window. What did he just say?Leah asked Miles, who shrugged uncomfortably.As I said, she obviously struggled to go on and chose to turn her face away from Miles and toward me, but I wasn't really interested in hearing about her stay-at-home plans.If we convert that small vegetable garden into a patio area with benches, chairs and planters, it will feel like an extension of the interior. You mean the vegetable garden?I asked. That's right.

Then there is a short pause, as if waiting for the fireworks to go off. That's it, I said as I got up from my chair and put a hand on Dalio's bony shoulder, let's not watch the movie.I think we should go to the park for a picnic.leave now.The outdoor scenery this evening is breathtaking. Me, Dalio, and Mike started scavenging the fridge for something to eat.Pipa just happened to bring home a man in a dark suit with a flimsy briefcase, and we sent him to the corner store to buy more food.Then, just as we were going out, Davy showed up, followed by a lovely young girl.She has shoulder-length brown hair, big brown eyes, fair skin, and pink cheeks; after his introduction, we learned that her name is Xiaomei, she blushed, smiled and told everyone one by one shake hands. Let's have a picnic together.I said. We are planning to go out to eat.Xiaomei said hesitantly. Yes, Davy said.He grinned at Xiaomei, this is an initiation ceremony, but I will protect you.I'm going to take a shower first. Davey takes the fastest shower ever, then brings his Frisbee; Dalio grabs a big blanket from Miles' room.I put the plastic cup and Lia's wine in the bag.From home, it takes only a few minutes to walk to the park, and it takes even less time to climb the fence.There was nothing particularly idyllic about the park, no ponds or walks, no landscaping, no deer grazing in well-kept enclosures, but it was a lovely evening, green and quiet in the twilight.There is no wind and no breath, and everything is still, as if waiting for something.We traversed the grass, dotted with plastic bags, cigarette butts, and squashed empty cans, to a chestnut tree, and spread out a blanket on top of which we placed the miscellaneous food.As I was pouring the wine into the plastic cup, I saw Owen coming towards me and raised the glass to him.He brought his camera, stopped a few meters away from us, and started taking pictures. Can't we be photographed?I asked aloud. He pans the camera down.How do I know?What interested me was the tree and its shade. Your mouth is so sweet.I said. He frowned at me, without a smile on his face, then put the camera aside, sat down on the grass, and took out a pack of cigarettes.The anonymous male companion of Pipa used the briefcase as a small table for everyone to arrange messy sandwiches.We tossed Frisbees at each other until it was too dark to continue tossing and catching.Later, everyone lay lazily on the grass, chatting with each other.Pipa and her newest partner were sitting with their legs intertwined. I saw Dawei and Xiaomei shyly holding hands, thinking that no one was paying attention.Dalio lay on his back with a joint in his mouth, breathing through his nostrils.He recounted my meeting with Inspector Mitchell out of context to Mike and anyone else who wanted to hear.Mike himself might not have noticed, but he seemed more at ease than usual.He was wearing a black undershirt, and this was the first time I noticed a tattoo on his shoulder: as long as the muscle exerts force, the two intersecting spirals will move and stretch. I quietly stepped across the grass and walked towards Dawei, and the two who had been glued to each other immediately separated. Excuse me, excuse me, I said, I just want to ask you something.Did you know that the police arrested me for questioning again? I've heard that, said Davey. How's the situation now? I think the police panicked, and I said, you know, if someone loses something, they look for it again, right?I think that's what they do.I just wanted to ask you something that keeps bugging me.Remember when you and Dalio ran down the street to help me? Davy grinned.How could I forget such a thing? I know I've asked you before, but I keep remembering that someone was there with you, and that impression always sticks with me.I had the impression someone was saying goodbye to Dalio, or Dalio was saying goodbye to the man or the woman.Dalio said no, and I didn't mean to question him; but we're talking about a homicide, and if there's anything we can do to help Of course.David said.I think he seems a little uncomfortable, but it may be my illusion.Maybe someone else was there, and if so, you should ask Dalio. I asked.So you mean someone else was there? I don't mean anything.The sun was shining brightly that day, and I was tired again.I'm sitting on the steps, maybe I'm closing my eyes and letting all the thoughts go through my head, you know what it feels like. Are your eyes closed? I have no idea.I can only tell you: maybe.But when your accident happened, my eyes were open.Now you know how unreliable memory is, right?If you ask someone beforehand to remember everything that happened, they will do so.But if you ask after the fact, 90% of the time you will forget it.I mean, at least I'll forget. All right.I said with dissatisfaction. What are you two plotting?Pipa asked, are you planning to tell Miles that we are legal tenants and we will never move? The police called in Estelle for questioning, Davey said, and again fatigue-bombed her to extract a confession. I should ask you to be my lawyer.I said. My dear, I am always at your service.she says. Sue my client, I said, or let her go.At this moment, I had an epiphany and looked around.Her evening companion is far away, pouring himself a second glass of wine.I asked her softly: Pipa, do you still remember the man you brought home for the night when my accident happened? I remember it.She giggled coyly, which annoyed me quite a bit. Maybe you should report this character to the police.They really wanted to be able to talk to everyone in the vicinity of the incident.Maybe he saw something when he came. Pipa's expression was suddenly as cold as ice.We saw nothing. Even so, I say, it's worth mentioning. This is not a good idea.she says. Is it possible that he is a married man?David said. Pipa glared at him viciously.It would be embarrassing.she says. Anyway, I say, you didn't see anything. Exactly. I sigh.I've done my civic duty, and I don't want to think about Paige again, at least not tonight.I walked back to where I was sitting and sat down on the grass.I lay on my back next to Owen, dreamily gazing at the sky, which had faded from blue-green to silver-gray.The dappled branches gathered darkly above me; through their shadows I could make out the dim outline of a half moon.I slowly close my eyes Dalio suddenly threw the Frisbee at me, splashing my glass of wine everywhere, and the spell was broken in an instant.I sat up, scolded Dalio, and poured myself some wine.In the cloudy twilight, I looked across the park.From my current location, I can see the roof of our house.Leah was inside with Miles, figuring out what to do with the house once we were gone.They'll convert bedrooms into studios and extra bathrooms, knock down walls, toss old beds and sagging couches into the scrap cart, repaint, and wipe away the marks and grime that's accumulated over the years until they're gone. Leave a trace of our past life.I thought to myself: It's time to say goodbye to the past; however, since then, I have never been so detached and nostalgic like that night in the park. As the temperature turned cooler and the sky darkened, we saw another figure approaching us.It turned out to be Miles.He didn't say a word, just sat next to me, so close that our hips touched and I could feel his heat coming through my jeans.I poured out the residue of baijiu for him and smiled at him to show reconciliation.He put his hand over mine, and I let him do the same, but just once. It's all right, I told him, like you said, we can't stay there forever. She is measuring the size of the window, he said sadly, she must not be pregnant, do you think it is possible? I don't want this day to end.After everyone wandered back to their rooms, I went to the garden.The last trace of warmth of the day had vanished, and the air was clear and cool.I sat for a while on Dalio's small, rickety bench, watching the lights in every room in the main house go out one by one except for the kitchen.Then I got up and walked to the end of the garden, and gazed out at the houses stretching out in all directions, with their hedges and long gardens, and beyond, the skyscrapers, twinkling with lights, soaring into the sky.There are so many people around me, so many strangers approaching.The bass part of the music is heard in the distance.Then, the music stops abruptly, and a tense silence falls abruptly. I turned back to face the main house and couldn't help being startled.Someone was standing just a few meters away from me.what are you doing here You're not the only one who can enter the garden, am I right? Why do you always have to choke when you speak?I'm not in the mood to argue with you tonight, okay? Owen shrugged and struck a match; as he moved the lit match to the cigarette between his lips, his face lit up. Can I have one? You don't smoke. I smoke, occasionally. Here.He held out his hand for the cigarette case, but I remained where I was and he had to walk across the grass that separated us.He shook out a cigarette, handed it to me, and lit it for me. I felt a throbbing hostility toward him.You don't care anyway.As I spoke, I blew a wisp of smoke ring into his face. What do you care about? leave. Finding a new place to stay can be really annoying. You've never tried to be part of the family, have you?I go on and on, you treat us like invisible people, don't you?It doesn't matter if we are at home or not.We can be anyone.I don't remember you ever saying good morning or good night, let alone would you like a cup of coffee?Or I'm going to the store to buy something, do you need anything, I'll bring it for you? I'll try to remember. Don't bother. He threw the cigarette butt away, and it blinked between us like a red eye.Then I also threw away the cigarettes.Later, he pushed me, and I staggered backward.He walked in the direction I was moving, then gave me another push.My back hit a spiked tree.I slapped him, and in the half-light I saw the muscles in his face twitch slightly.very good.He leaned forward and kissed me hard.I ran my hands through his thick hair and pulled him towards me, tasted blood in my mouth, but whether the blood was his or mine, I couldn't tell.Layers of clothing coming loose, buttons snapping, zippers ripping open, teeth against skin, hands caressing each other, breathless, cursing under whispers. Not here.I said. Why not?he asked. I can't think of a reason why it doesn't work.I can't think at all.The two of us pressed against the rough surface, pushing the fence at our back, and the thorns and pieces of bark pricked and pricked.It was chaotic and bewildered.He had to pull off my jeans and lean against me, into me, and every part of me that I thought was healed started to ache again.Every bruise was aching.His eyes shine in the night. I don't like you at all.Finally when we got away from each other, I said to him. For a moment he was silent, just lying with his arms outstretched and staring at the night sky.He got up later and stuffed the torn shirt into his jeans. Good night, he said standing in front of me disheveled and bruised, or should I say good morning? After saying this, he walked away.I froze for a moment, then hurriedly got up, leaned against the fence, and touched my swollen lips with my fingertips.Then I went in, too, into the silent, sleeping room.The light in Owen's room was out as I tiptoed up the stairs.I took off my clothes, washed my body in the sink, tried to avoid seeing my face in the mirror, and then fell on the bed, waiting for sleep to lull me to sleep. I don't know what woke me up.Since I didn't even bother to close the curtains, I could see the white belly of the sky from where I lay down.Birds chirped eagerly outside.I turned my head and saw that the current time on my phone was five o'clock in the morning, so I closed my eyes again and tried to force myself to fall asleep again, but it didn't work.I recall last night feeling heavy, distracted, and sensual. I moved my legs under the bed, pulled on my dressing gown, and opened the door.The room was silent.Everyone is still wandering in dreamland.I tiptoed across the corridor and turned the handle of Owen's door, making an unbearable click.He was lying on the bed with the blanket pulled up to his waist, one hand dangling by the side of the bed.I gently close the door behind me and walk towards him.He didn't budge until I climbed into bed, slipped under the thin duvet, lay down next to him, and kissed his shoulders, neck, and stomach.He groaned slightly, but remained silent with his eyes closed.He rolled over on his side and put one hand between my legs.The belt of my dressing gown got tangled between the two of us, and I squirmed, slipped it off, and threw it on the floor again.We are very quiet.I covered his mouth when he ejaculated. You didn't even open your eyes.I said. Maybe you're not who I thought you were.He said.I rolled out of bed and put on my dressing gown.Finally he opened his eyes and looked at me.I didn't see you naked, Estelle.Belle. You will have no chance in the future.The idea sucks. That's not an idea at all.Owen said.He reached out and stroked my leg from bottom to top, and I was shaking helplessly.