Chapter 43 Chapter Forty-Two

All wrong.It goes without saying.Where did I miss something, what details did I forget.In any case, there is always a sparseness in a hundred secrets.Even so, I persevered.I thought about how to pretend to be innocent.Ask questions and pretend to be confused.I felt my face burn and the corners of my mouth twitch uncontrollably; but I managed not to break down.I told myself: It doesn't matter if you get a little flustered.Cops make normal people nervous.Only true criminals are poised and relaxed when they are caught.During the drive to the police station, Kamsky said little. Any questions?I asked him, and at the same time heard my own slightly harsh and hoarse voice.I coughed violently and cleared my throat.Do you want to ask me anything else?

Someone wants to talk to you. who?I asked. You will find out later. Is it someone I know? Kamsky paused, as if trying to make up his mind.You will find out later.He ends up repeating the old saying. I racked my brains thinking, not even noticing that the driver pulled into the parking lot at the back of the police station; they led me across the tarmac, into the back door, down a long corridor, to a room, and left me alone Pace back and forth.I only left here two hours ago, but this place seems to have changed.Nobody gave me tea.I don't know if this is the same room.This room feels darker.I try to calm down.But don't be too calm.I must not be too defensive.It's not all bad news.no.If the police simply wanted to bring me to justice, they could arrest me immediately.Also warn me.Wasn't that just now?

Kamsky came in with the cassette player.Behind him was a man in a suit.He was a tall man, with white hair that seemed freshly brushed, and brushed too vigorously, against his skull.Kamsky gestured for me to sit at the table.The two of them pulled the chairs across from me and sat down.Kamsky put the tape recorder on the table and watched it for a while without turning it on.I would like to introduce my colleague Bill.Pope recognizes you.He said. This is how the same thing?I asked.I fumbled for the wrench in my pocket. Inspector Pope is here today from Sheffield. I clenched my fists, stretched my fingers, and heard my knuckles snap.I tried to look terrified without being too terrified.I feel that my facial features are distorted into an expression, but I don't know what kind of virtue I am in the eyes of outsiders.

What happened?I asked.There are bees flying inside my skull.buzz buzz. Pope took a notebook out of his pocket and opened it.He put on a pair of rimless glasses and stared down at his book.davidMike.Giffer.He said. I am, I said, what's wrong? You used to live at 14 Donelgo Road? right.What happened? When was the last time you were there? do not know.I said.Is that my voice?That's right.Five or six months ago. Who lives there now? It should be my mother. Pope frowned.should? I haven't been in touch with my family for a while. Why? I shrugged.I came to London looking for a fresh start.

What is this for? I was silent for a moment, trying to imagine how someone who didn't know what to do would react.Excuse me, I said, how is it now?What happened? Pope kept tapping the pen in his hand.Why did you ask so?Should something happen? Come on, I say it in a distressed, confused tone, I don't know what you're talking about. Why are you leaving Sheffield?Pope asked me. Listen, this is all on my heels.Don't mess it up, David.Hold on.I have always dreamed of coming to London.I found a job in London and thought it was time to move too.Could you please tell me what's going on here?You scare me.I tried to smile at him.But I can't do it.The skin on my face was as stiff as cardboard.

Pope closed his notebook and lay down on the back of his chair. At the request of residents on Donilgo Road, police forced their way into the property two days ago and found a body inside. That's it.This is the critical moment when one hair will move the whole body.I have been thinking about this moment for a long time.Is it my mother?I asked. The deceased remained there for some time.It's been a few months.But we managed to get past this, we have confirmed that the deceased was Mary.Giffer. I feel them staring at me.Their eyes on my face were as hot as the sun. died?I said, what happened?How did she, I mean, how did no one find out?

I couldn't cry, but I still rubbed my eyes vigorously and muttered obscure words.At one point I buried my face in my palms, avoided their gaze, and gave myself a moment to think.Then looked up again.The two agents stared at me impassively. I'm sorry, I said, I should have kept in touch with her.But I didn't even make a phone call.After leaving home, I never went back to visit her.But I never expected that I couldn't imagine that I rubbed my eyes hard again and let out a few sobs. Police spoke to neighbors, Pope said, and they mentioned her son and said they hadn't seen you in a while.with her.

She is in poor health, I said, and has limited mobility. She was found dead in bed. The bed, I repeated numbly, where she used to lie. Nobody knows where you've been, Pope said, but then suddenly your name pops up on the computer screen.You can imagine how surprised we were.I think I'd better come and see you in person. I should have expected that, I said, are you sure?my mother?Mom, is she really dead? We have to ask you further questions, said Pope, and I must warn you in advance that what you say is admissible in the case of the charges.You also have the right to a lawyer.If necessary, we can arrange for a lawyer for you.So you understand?

No, I said slowly, as if terribly frightened, I don't understand.Did someone commit a crime? I'm here to consider that possibility. Has someone burglarized the house?Has she been attacked without her? Do you understand my warning?Do you want to hire a lawyer? I've thought about this question a long time ago, and I know what I'm going to say.lawyer?What is it for? It's up to you.Kamsky said. My mother died, I said, I love her so much.I shouldn't have left her alone.Whatever you ask, I am willing to answer.I will fully cooperate. Kamsky turned on the tape recorder and announced the date, time, location, officers present, my full name, and that I had been informed of my rights and agreed to be interrogated without a lawyer.They started asking questions, but after an hour or so, I had more information than they did.I am always ambiguous and hesitant when answering.After all, I was a son who had just learned of his mother's death, and although I was overwhelmed with grief, I tried to help as much as I could.If I describe every detail of my whereabouts, motives, what I did in the weeks before I came to London, why I didn't go home or contact my family, every detail of that sort of thing, it would arouse suspicion.

It gradually became clear that, in the heat of the past few weeks, the body had decomposed to the point where it was difficult to identify it, and it was impossible to find other important clues.I can imagine a chain of precedence.First the flies, then the maggots, so much so that the whole carpet was boiled and crawled over everything.Apparently the police didn't have any evidence, they just called me to the police station for questioning, to test my reaction. I'm so sad, I caught the right moment and threw out such a sentence, I thought her friends would take care of her.I really don't know what she suffered.

Does she have many friends?Pope asked me. Some, I said, friends drifted away after she got sick. How sick is she? I don't know what's wrong with her, but I think she's suffering sometimes, and I say with a glassy eye, that I know she's trying to hide it from me.But she is really brave.Maybe she's trying too hard. I want to keep being stupid.I knew it was the right thing to do.But I just can't help it.I must know.I waited until the problem seemed to be over. I don't understand, I said, why bother both of you at the same time? I have to consider all possibilities.Kamsky said. My mother was found dead on the bed.At home in Sheffield.What do you mean, possibility? I can't stand this case.Kamsky said. This is my own fault.I went past that door.The time has come for me to decide to get angry.What do you mean, this fucking case?I said, what case?You just informed me of my mother's death.What are you talking about?Didn't you already arrest fucking Miles?If you want to ask anything, just ask.I do not care.But don't play tricks on me. Too much dirty words.This is not David's style.Sounds like role-playing.I let out a hoarse sob and tried to make amends. Calm down, Pope said in a more reassuring tone, and tell us about your mother.Are you kissing her? They tried to pry into my psychology, but in the end they failed.I have a way of boring them to the point of raising the white flag.I sniffled and stuttered when I spoke.I went aimlessly in circles.Sobbed a few times without tears.Play the head-in-palm trick a few more times.At last the conversation broke off, and Kamsky looked at Pope, nodded, leaned over, and turned off the cassette recorder.They both seemed sulking at wasting time. Please grief.Pope said. I said nothing.I'm recalling those months of smoldering anger at my mom, a buzzing noise in my head.Just cover her face with a pillow and the noise will die away.It was so easy, as if I had just let her sleep.Pope picked up the notebook and put it in his jacket pocket. You will be contacted about the inquest of the cause of death, he said, you should want to arrange a funeral.There was also the matter of the house to attend to. house.It's been there waiting for me. Mr. Gifford, did you hear that? It was a bit of a surprise, I said, and I was trying to digest it.Be an orphan.And all this. I watched them both in turn.They seemed to take my word for it.