Chapter 10 Chapter nine

Have you ever touched a dead body? touched.I said. The police couldn't hide their disappointment.You shouldn't have touched her. I didn't know at the time that she was out of breath and I said, I thought she was hurt and needed help. His expression softened.I can understand, he approached me, how are you?Do you want to talk to the policewoman? What is there to talk about? They have been trained.He said. A lengthy silence followed. The window, he, did you break it? right. You caused a great commotion. As I said, I thought she was ill.The situation seemed urgent. He looked around at the shattered glass windows.The approach seems a bit extreme.He said.

I couldn't think of any other way at the time.The hallway behind him was filled with other police officers and what looked like doctors in white robes.There are also many vehicles coming and going outside. Well, uh miss. My last name is Belle. Why did you show up at the murder scene, Miss Belle? I'm a bike courier, and I said, my bike is right outside the house. Do you know this girl?he ask me. No, I said, but I've been here a few times. What are you doing here today? The office called and told me to come and pick up the package.Then there was silence again.terribly sorry.I have nothing more to say.I mean, my mind is blank right now.

The police officer kept rubbing his chin, as if racking his brains, trying to ask another question, but he couldn't squeeze it out.I know this has been a frightening experience for you.But we're going to ask you to give a full explanation from your last trip to the police station.He looked at me, taken aback by the look on my face.Excuse me, what's so funny about this sentence? No no no, I said, no such thing.I was just petrified.I've never spoken to the police before.Now he actually recorded two statements in one month. Really?The policeman asked me, what statement was recorded?

So I had to tell my bicycle accident and me and Peggy.Farrell tells the ins and outs of the chance encounter.I originally thought that he would be curious, funny, or even eerie, but he almost immediately changed his face and turned serious, telling me not to say any more, and then stepped out of the house. I am already familiar with the interrogation room of the police station.However, this time it was two police officers who drove me down the mountain to another police station.They wouldn't let me ride my bike and told me they would have someone handle it.They drove the car to the parking lot behind the police station and took me in through the back door.I was interviewed by a female police officer, and she led me into another interrogation room.The interrogation rooms all looked similar, but this room did not have beige walls, but was replaced by the usual light green color used by public agencies.I sat alone on the plastic chair and pulled out my phone.About ninety-seven were text messages from Campbell and others.I called Campbell.

What is the matter with you?he asked. Sorry, I said, I got to her house and found her dead.Now I am at the police station.There was silence on the other end of the phone line.are you still there? Ah?Campbell said. I'll call you back later.I said.I hung up the phone, turned off the phone, and started crying.I thought to myself: Crying won't help, but I still can't quite control my emotions when the door opens and a man in a smart suit walks in. He is a middle-aged man with unkempt white hair that has thinned in front.He carried two files under his arm. After entering the door, he stopped suddenly and stared at me.What are you wearing?he asked.

I'm a bike courier, I said. Was it you who found the body? right. Oh, what the hell.He walked out of the room after cursing.I heard a faint growl outside, getting farther and farther away.I was mad at myself for letting him see me cry, that was not my usual image at all.The man returned, accompanied by two other officers, one a policewoman, who was holding a pile of laundry and the other a tray with a cup of tea on it. put it on.said the agent. I am not cold.I said. This is an order, he said, and you are probably startled.When I find out which policeman threw you down like this, he will definitely be able to eat and walk around.

These clothes are so funny.A navy long-sleeve sweatshirt with holes, a cardigan pullover, and jeans five times my size.The policewoman bent down to help me roll up my trousers. These clothes should not suit me well.I said. The man hands me a cup of tea.I took a sip and grimaced.I don't drink with added sugar.I said. You must drink, he said, and we'll stand here and watch you drink. I feel the tea seep into my empty stomach.Is there anything to eat?I asked. The detective looked at the policewoman.You hear me. The policewoman looked terrified.Honey, let me get you a sandwich, okay?

whatever. Do it now.said the agent. The two police officers hurried out the door.The man gestured for me to sit down.He placed the two files side by side on the table.I'm Chief Inspector Paul.Kamsky, he said, are you all right? I'll be fine.I said. In fact, this is not an established process.I know you haven't made a statement yet, but as soon as I heard about this, I had to come and talk to you in person.A helpless smile spread across his face.What I have to ask is, what the hell is going on here? What does this mean? He picked up a file, the one with the green cover, and opened it.

Thursday, May 10, you are Margaret.Farrell was the last person to see her. It should be me and two other friends. He put down the file and picked up the one with the brown cover.Today, just over three weeks later, Ingrid was the first to discover.De.Soto's people are also you.I'd love to hear your thoughts on this matter. I thought, I was really scared. Me too, Miss Belle.What else? For example, what? He paused.Miss Belle, I don't know if you understand the anomaly of this whole situation. I fucking know all too well.It was a horrific coincidence, and being a victim is not a good feeling.

You are a witness, not a victim. I mean that. Let's put it this way, I have been a cop for 28 years, and in the cases I have handled, if someone shows up at the murder scene twice in a month, the reason is that they are the murderer. Are you hinting? No no no, of course not.But I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to stay here for a while.The amount of time it takes to record a statement is disproportionately long.But first I'm here to ask you two very simple questions. like what? Like, do you think these two women are related? That's ridiculous, I said, they have nothing to do with each other.

At least, there is a correlation between the two. what is that? it is you. It's ridiculous. Miss Belle, please.help.Tell me about your relationship with these two women. To be honest, we have nothing to do with each other.Margaret.Farrell lived on the same street as me, a few houses down the road.But this is London.I recognized her face, but I hadn't really seen her until I ran into her car. You hit her car? Hit by a bicycle.There should be a record in the file.I once again told the whole story from the beginning.But that's all.I didn't know her and I was in a state of shock, so I can't remember saying anything coherent to her. That Ingrid.De.What about Soto? I shuddered violently. Sorry, my teeth are chattering as I speak, my head is not very clear now. Kamsky stooped forward with a sad face.Need to see a doctor?he asked. It was because of seeing a dead body, I said, I'd never seen a dead body before. And the death was so tragic, he said, and some young police officers under me were also shocked.Do you want to pause for a moment? No, I'm fine.What do you want to know? Ingrid.De.Soto.Talk to me about this person. I don't even remember her full name.Might as well have seen it on the package. Why did you go to her house? This is not what I planned.My boss called me.He could call anyone. How many other bicycle couriers are there? Five or six. Have you been to her house before? Been there a few times. Do you want to know why others want to kill her? which her? De.Ms Soto. Unexpected.I'm not her doctor, nor her neighbor, nor her friend.I am responsible for delivering and collecting packages.Usually I don't even know the client's name. What about her? She is rich.She was rich in life. That's the point.He said. She's rich, so someone might be trying to get rich and kill her.Row grabbing is a possible factor. My colleagues are still surveying the scene.They have not yet been able to contact her husband. Her husband, I said, oh yes, I'm sorry.Both of them are married. now it's right.Didn't you find the connection?But the point I'm making is that as far as we know, nothing has been stolen.So there is another reason for the murderer's desire to kill. like what? This is also where we want to study. Then came the endless silence.Kamsky propped his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands. That baffled me, he said, and made me furious.Now I have a horrible premonition, maybe it's just a coincidence. I agree But I won't let it go.He looked up suddenly.What about the package? What did you say? The package you were supposed to pick up. have no idea.After I broke through the window, picking up the package wasn't on my priority list. When you broke through the window, the house was safe and the alarm was on? Yes, I was about to explain that as soon as I broke the window, the alarm went off But actually, he was talking to himself, not me.He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.good.Miss Belle, after you sign the statement, I'll have someone drive you home.I must ask you not to tell anyone the details of what you saw.Do you understand?Including the method of murder and the scars on the victim's face.I nod.You will be interrogated by two police officers later, and I am afraid you will be asked to give a statement and tell us everything that comes to mind, even if it takes a day and a night.