Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Three

From that moment on, everything changed.I was suddenly turned away from the door and could only look in, but couldn't see anything.When I asked Kamsky what had happened and what he had found, he just shook his head.He is now a ruthless official, keeping his distance from me.He said that the investigation of the whole case is inconvenient to disclose the details.I said I don't understand, is the police going to arrest someone?We're still standing in the backyard, next to the vegetable garden where I'm dying.Kamsky hesitated to speak, and finally spoke. I think someone might be about to be sued.He said.

who?I said, who is going to be prosecuted? Just wait and see, he nodded as he spoke, and follow me. Things happened so fast that our group of residents could only helplessly get involved.Even the moment I spoke to the Inspector in the garden, things kept changing.The house is no longer our home either.The whole house was like the scene of a biochemical disaster, with people in white coats and nylon shoe covers walking around everywhere.The rooms on the first floor have also been blocked with tape. The police want everyone to come to the station.Kamsky said. Can I go back to my room and get something?I asked.

Sorry, Kamsky said, no.Now this is a crime scene. Crime scene?What's the meaning?I said, what crime? Dalio followed the two officers who accompanied him upstairs and down the stairs. Estelle, he said, they're taking us to the police. Shut up, Kamsky said, no talking. So when Dalio was escorted past me by the officers and onto the street, he gestured helplessly, almost comically, to me.Two men came in carrying arc lamps with metal racks.Meanwhile, I was thinking anxiously.My pockets are full of banknotes.Does that make me a suspect?When I arrive at the police station, will I be searched?Do I need to surrender everything in my pocket?Shouldn't, unless I'm the one who's going to be sued.If that's the case, the scene will be ugly.If there is any possibility of the money being seized, it would be prudent for me to inform the police beforehand.But I can't think of anything that would make the fact that I'm hiding a huge sum of money sound less weird.Chief Inspector Kamsky, I think I should tell you that I have twenty thousand pounds in cash in my pocket.The money has absolutely nothing to do with the case, I just thought you might want to know.

While I was talking, someone touched my arm, which startled me.It's Kamsky, he said, and we're leaving now if we can. Can I ride a bike?I asked, was it Campbell's and the guy I was eating. He shrugged.Oh well.There will be a police car following you. As the police took us out, I saw the street was clogged with police cars, brightly colored sedans and vans, and more unmarked vans.Several strips of blockade tape surround a large section of the road in front of our house.The crowd behind the cordon stared at me intently.Do they think I'm under arrest?Do they think I'm a suspect?It suddenly occurred to me that I should put on an appropriate expression at this time.I absolutely cannot laugh.Otherwise it looks too cold-blooded.I also absolutely mustn't cover my face, look fierce, or be timid.I had to look down-to-earth, like a police officer from head to toe.It's just that everyone knows to assist the police in handling cases, and to put it bluntly, he is the number one suspect who has not yet been charged.In short, I have to be self-conscious and natural, like those who are really helping to solve the case.I do too, don't I?

As I stepped out of the house, someone in the group called my name.I looked around without thinking.They are not my neighbors or friends.This is London after all, and you may not know your neighbours.They were journalists and photographers who already knew me.How would they feel when they saw the police officer following me?Whatever the facts, people remember only the news headlines that accompanied the photos. I went back to the police station, back to the interrogation room, and saw the plastic chairs, the linoleum, and the bumpy wallpaper again, and it was like having the same dream over and over again, returning to the same place, telling the same thing, answering the same questions , to fill the same gap.Only this time I know that Mike, Dawei, Xiaomei, Pipa, Owen, Miles and Dalio are in different interrogation rooms, or are sitting on a bench waiting to be questioned.I was left alone in the room for several minutes, but could almost feel their presence.I think now it's not just as simple as going their separate ways, but a big iron ball hit the house and smashed the entire wall.I think of half-destroyed buildings, with the wallpaper battered by the wind and rain, and all the internal structure, wires, beams, joists, like wounds, bones and tendons exposed.

The confession process was tedious, but I gradually found that this time was less hostile than the previous interrogations.The statement was made by a junior detective about my age, who knew so little about the case, that I had to answer a few of his questions.Obviously I'm very comfortable with this role.I was numb, but he was clearly thrilled to be a part of the case.When I really had nothing to say, he left me alone in the room again.A few minutes later, the door of the interrogation room opened and Kamsky entered.He sat down across from me, and I saw his piercing eyes reappear.how are youhe ask me.

Just tired.I said. You can leave now, he said, but I'm afraid you won't be able to go home.Do you have anywhere else to go? There's my friend Sol's, did you forget?But You must inform the police of your whereabouts.He said. Are you finished? Not yet, he said, and with a smile on his face, we found evidence of blood, hair, trophies taken from dead women.Maybe I shouldn't tell you, but the police are going to hold a press conference to announce that they will kill Margaret.Farrell, Ingrid.De.Soto and Leah.Peterson charges against Myers.Roland.Thornton. Right now I am thinking of two things almost at the same time.All I thought was: No way, oh no, please, no.On the other hand, it occurred to me that he hadn't told me that his middle name was Roland.It wasn't until Kamsky stuffed the toilet paper into my hand that I realized I was crying.Because, anyway, Miles is my friend.

Tell me, I said at last, and tell me all about it. As Kamsky keeps emphasizing: the evidence is overwhelming.Although it is impossible to understand his motives, and it is difficult to find a reason, the fact is that they have evidence to link Miles with Margaret.Farrell, Ingrid.De.Soto and Leah.Peterson's death is tied together. No way, I said, how is it possible?The three of them? There are three of them. What is the evidence? One is the murder weapon.The second is body sampling, he said with eerie elegance, and if you want to be more specific, it's Margaret.Farrell's body tissue and hair.Don't you understand?This is seamless.He did have a smile on his face.Margaret.The problem with Farrell's body is over.Her body was hidden in Mr Thornton's room.There could also be a murder scene.What is certain is that her body was hidden there and later discarded at the place where it was found.What's more, there are other items hidden in his room.We think those are his trophies.

loot?like what? You will soon find out. I don't understand.Why is this?I mean, murdering Leah I can understand.Not really understood, but imagined.He knows her.It's her boyfriend.But what about everyone else?Paige, my God, he doesn't know her at all.She was just a harmless woman who lived on the same road. Hearing this, Kamsky gave a knowing smile.But he killed her anyway.And it was in his own room. That Ingrid.De.What about Soto?There is no connection between them at all. Among Mr. Thornton's possessions was a de.Invitation letter sent by Ms. Soto. What?I stared at Kamsky for a while.Then think of Andrew.De.Soto's miserable, wrinkled face in the restaurant.Her husband thinks she's having an affair, and I say slowly, you mean, she's having an affair with Miles?

We haven't found out yet, he said, we've only just begun to investigate. I want to say that Miles will not talk to Ingrid.De.A woman like Soto does three-twisting, but what do I know?The world doesn't work the way it used to. I feel a little nauseous.I said. I can imagine. Actually I don't think you can imagine it. All I can say, Estelle, is that you may never understand.But sometimes questions have no answers. right.I said. You should go home. You are so forgetful.I don't have a home anymore.