Chapter 2 2 password

About a week after Mr. Raphael's death, Miss Marple took a letter from her breakfast tray.She stared at it for a while before taking it apart.The other two letters received this morning were bills, or bill receipts, whichever they were, did not interest her.Maybe this letter will do. It was postmarked in London, the address was typewritten, and the slender envelope was elegant.Miss Marple cut open the letter neatly with a paper knife (which she always kept ready on the tray).From Mr. Brotry and Schuster, solicitors and notaries; from Bloomsbury.The letter was courteous and legal, asking her to come to their office sometime next week to discuss a matter of vital interest to her.The day is tentatively set as the 24th, Thursday.If that day is inconvenient, ask her to tell them when she will be in London anytime soon.They incidentally mentioned that they were lawyers for the late Mr. Rafael and knew that she and Mr. Rafael knew each other.

Miss Marple frowned in puzzlement.She stood up slowly while thinking about the letter.Cherry helped her down the stairs.It was an old-fashioned staircase, with a sharp turn halfway up, so Cherry would walk up and down the hall cautiously, in case Miss Marple had to go down alone and be unfortunate. You have taken such good care of me, Cherry, said Miss Marple. It should, Cherry said, it was her mantra.There are so few good people like you. Oh, thank you for the compliment, said Miss Marple, descending the last step of the stairs. nothing wrong?Cheryl asked.You look a bit annoyed, you know.

All right, all right, Miss Marple replied.I received a rather unusual letter from a law firm. Did someone sue you for something?Cheryl asked. She always associated letters from lawyers with disasters. Oh no, said Miss Marple.Not at all the kind of thing you said.They just invited me to meet them in London next week. Maybe someone will leave you an inheritance, Cherry said expectantly. I think that's a fool's dream, replied Miss Marple. Oh, that's hard to say, Cherry said. Miss Marple sat in a chair, took out the needle and thread from the embroidery bag, and began to think about the possibility of Mr. Raphael's legacy to her.Compared to when Cherry just mentioned it, she felt it was even more impossible now.She doesn't think Mr. Rafael is this kind of person.

She cannot go to London on the appointed day.She had to go to a meeting of the Women's Association that day to discuss fundraising for adding some rooms.But she wrote them a letter and made an appointment to meet sometime next week.She received a reply in time, confirming the appointment time.She was curious what Mr. Brotree and Mr. Schuster looked like.The letter is from J. R．Brochoi signed, obviously he is more senior.Miss Marple thought that Mr. Raphael might have left her some small research reports or souvenirs in his will, or maybe a few books about the exotic flowers and plants in his study, because he thought that this old lady who was enthusiastic about gardening would be interested.Or else, a cameo brooch of his great-grandmother.She likes to do such wild imaginations.But these are just imaginations, because no matter what the situation is, these executors, if these lawyers are the executors, just need to send things, and there is no need to meet her.

Anyway, said Miss Marple.I'll find out next Tuesday. Don't know what she looks like? said Mr. Brocho to Mr. Schuster, glancing at the clock. She should be there in a quarter of an hour, Mr. Schuster said.Not sure if she will be on time. Oh, I think she will.She is old, I think she should pay more attention to details than those impetuous young people nowadays. I don't know if she is fat or thin?Schuster said. Brocho shook his head. Mr. Raphael didn't describe her appearance?asked Mr. Schuster. Whenever he talked about her, he was extraordinarily tight-lipped. "The whole thing seems weird to me," Mr. Schuster said.If only we knew what it all meant.

Mr. Brochoi said thoughtfully: Might have something to do with Mike. What?Is it still relevant after all these years?impossible?Why do you think so?did he mention No, he didn't mention anything.He didn't tell me anything about what was on his mind, he just told me what to do. You think he's become a bit of an anomaly in the end, don't you? Not at all, his sanity was as good as ever.In any case, his illness never affected his head.In the last two months of his life he had made an extra £200,000 to prove it. He had a good eye, and Mr. Schuster spoke with appropriate respect.Indeed, he has always been far-sighted.

Very business-minded, Mr. Brotley said, too, with appropriate reverence.There are not many like him.Most people in the world are poor people. A bell rang on the table, Mr. Schuster picked up the receiver, and a woman's voice came: Jane.Miss Marple came to see Mr. Brotley as promised. Mr. Schuster looked at his companion, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a positive or negative acknowledgment.Mr. Brotree nodded. Invite her to come in, Mr. Schuster said, adding: The answer is about to be revealed. Miss Marple entered the room, and a long-faced middle-aged gentleman, thin and sad, stood up to meet her.Obviously he is Mr. Broadribb, whose appearance does not match his name (Broadribb, Broadribb, has a strong physique).With him was a rather younger, much larger, middle-aged man with dark hair, small piercing eyes, and what appeared to be a double chin.

This is my colleague, Mr. Schuster, Mr. Brochoi introduced. Hope you don't feel the stairs are too high. Mr. Schuster said in his mouth, but he thought to himself: She is at least seventy years old, and she may be almost eighty. I'm always a little out of breath climbing stairs. This is an old building without an elevator, Brochoi said apologetically.The practice has been established for a long time, and we are not striving to install some modern facilities that some clients may expect. The layout of this office is square and pleasing to the eye, Miss Marple said very politely.

She sat down in the chair Mr. Brotree had brought for her.Mr. Shuster quietly left the room. Hope the chair is comfortable, Mr. Brotley said.May I close the curtains a little?You might find the sun a bit harsh. Thank you, Miss Marple said gratefully. She sat there with her back straight, which was her habit.She wore a tartan suit with a pearl necklace and a velvet cap.Brochoi thought to himself: A typical old lady in the country, an old woman who has never seen the world, her head is not necessarily weak, but her eyes are quite shrewd.I don't know where Rafael met her?Probably someone's aunt who came from the countryside?While these thoughts were floating in his mind, he began by chatting about the regrettable disasters caused by the frost in the early spring of this year and some topics he thought were appropriate.

Miss Marple responded in a regular manner, and sat quietly waiting for the main topic of this meeting to begin. You may be wondering why we invited you here, Mr. Brocher spread out the papers in front of him and smiled at her.Of course you have heard, or read about the death of M. Raphael in the newspapers. I read it in the paper, said Miss Marple. I know he is your friend. Miss Marple said: I first met him just over a year ago, she added: in the West Indies. Ah, I remember him being there.I believe it was for his health, and figured it might do him some good to go there.But you also know that he has been very ill for a long time, and he can't walk well.

'Yes,' said Miss Marple. You know him very well? No, said Miss Marple.I dare not say so.We are travelers in the same hotel and chat occasionally.I haven't seen him since returning to England.You know, I live quietly in the country, and he, I think, is a man of his own. He's still doing business until, well, I might say, until the day he dies, Mr. Brotley said.He is very business minded. Indeed, said Miss Marple.I could see right away that he was, uh, quite an extraordinary character. I don't know if you know that maybe Mr. Raphael has hinted at you and I have been entrusted to tell you what the proposal is about? I can't think of one at all, said Miss Marple.Mr. Raphael will entrust me with something.It's just unbelievable. He has great respect for you. It was his kindness, but he was abusive, said Miss Marple.I am an insignificant person. You must know that when he died he was rich.In general, the terms of his will were simple.Long before his death, he had arranged for the disposition of his property, such as entrusted trust funds and beneficiaries. I believe this procedure is quite common nowadays, said Miss Marple.Although I don't know anything about money. The purpose of the meeting, Mr. Brochoi said.It is because I was entrusted by him to tell you that he has prepared a sum of money for you, which will belong to you completely in one year.The only condition: you have to accept an offer.I'll show it to you. He picked up a long sealed envelope from the table in front of him and handed it to her who was sitting opposite. I think you'd better see what's inside for yourself.Don't worry, take your time. So Miss Marple took her time and cut the letter open with the small letter knife that Mr. Brotley handed her, took out the letter paper and typed it to read.She folded it, opened it and read it again before looking at Mr. Brotree. It's very unclear.Did he leave a more detailed note? Not as far as I know.He wants me to give you this letter and tell you the number left to you.The total is twenty thousand pounds, and it is exempt from inheritance tax. Miss Marple just sat looking at him, too surprised to speak.Mr. Brochoi didn't speak for a moment, but just watched her carefully.Her astonishment was genuine.It was evident that Miss Marple had not expected to hear such news.Mr. Brotley wondered what would come out of her first sentence.She looked at him directly, her eyes were very severe, only her aunts would look at him like this.She finally spoke, almost condemning: It was a lot of money, said Miss Marple. It's not as big as it used to be, Mr. Brotley said. (He managed to restrain himself from saying it: it is only a minority today.) I must confess, said Miss Marple.I'm surprised.Frankly, I was very surprised. She picked up the document and looked it over again carefully from beginning to end. I think you should know the content of this letter?she asked. Yes.Mr. Raphael personally dictated to me to write it down. He didn't explain anything to you? No. I think you should have suggested to him, wouldn't it be better if he explained more?said Miss Marple, with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice. Mr. Brochoi smiled lightly. You are right, I suggested it.I said, it might not be easy for you to understand exactly what he meant. Well said, said Miss Marple. Mr. Brochoi said: Of course, you don't have to answer me right now. Indeed, said Miss Marple.I have to think it over. As you pointed out, that's a huge amount of money. I'm old, said Miss Marple. Some people call it old, but old is a better word.I am very old.I may not live a year to earn this money, let alone whether I have the ability to earn this money. No one of any age despises money, Mr Brocho said. I can use the money to benefit some of the charities I care about, Miss Marble said.There are always some people in the world, and I mean people who you always wish you could do something for, but you can't help because you don't have the money to do it.Also, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have hobbies or desires, there are always things that a person can't have or can't afford.I think Mr. Raphael knows very well that it is a great pleasure for an elderly person to acquire such powers unexpectedly. Indeed, Mr. Brotley said.Think about, say, a trip to a foreign country?Now there are many such luxury travels; watching theater performances, listening to concerts, all kinds of ways to enrich spiritual life. My interests are not so refined, said Miss Marple.Grouse, she said thoughtfully.It is not easy to buy grouse these days, and the price is very expensive.I'd rather have a partridge and have a whole one to myself.Candied chestnuts are an expensive indulgence of yours, and I can't afford to buy them often.Maybe I could go to an opera.This means you have to hire a car to take you to the theater and pick you up, plus a night in a hotel.But I'd better keep my words to myself, she said.Let me go back and think about it carefully.Really, why on earth Mr. Raphael, you really don't know why he made this proposal, and you don't know how he thinks I have the ability to serve him?He must have known that it had been more than a year, almost two years since we met, that I was probably in poorer health than before, much less able to use the little talents I might have.He is taking a risk.There are plenty of people who are more competent and happy than me for this kind of investigation, right? Frankly, one cannot help but think so, Mr. Brotley said.But he chose you, Miss Marple.Maybe my curiosity is a bit boring, but please forgive me for asking: have you ever oh, what should I say?Linked to a crime or criminal investigation? Not strictly speaking, said Miss Marple.In other words, I'm not a professional.I've never been a probation officer or a full-time judge, and I've never had anything to do with a detective agency.Let me explain to you, Mr. Brotley, all I can think of is the one thing I have to do that Mr. Raphael is obliged to do.At any rate, I can only say this: Mr. Raphael and I were involved in a crime committed there while we were living on the islands of the West Indies.It was a bizarre and intricate murder case. And you and Mr. Rafael solved that case? I can't be so sure, said Miss Marple.Mr. Raphael, with his strong character, and I, because we noticed several obvious clues, joined forces to prevent a murder.I cannot do it alone; my physical strength is too weak.And Mr. Raphael alone can't do it, because he is not good at walking.All in all, we act together. I have another question for you, Miss Marple.Does the word Nemesis have any special meaning to you? Nemesis, said Miss Marple.This is not a problem.A smile slowly appeared on her face.Indeed, she said.This word has a meaning to me, and it also has a special meaning to Mr. Rafael.He was amused when I described myself as a Nemesis. Mr. Brotley did not expect to hear such an answer.He looked at Miss Marple, as surprised as the moment Mr. Raphael first heard it in that thatched hut on the Caribbean island.The old lady was indeed kind and intelligent.But, this is too much, isn't it Nemesis? I'm sure you feel as he does, said Miss Marple.She stood up.If you find out or receive any further instructions on this matter, Mr. Brocho, please let me know.I would find it strange if there were no more instructions, since I am completely at a loss as to what Mr. Rafael asked me to do. You do not know his family, friends and do not know.I told you he was just a companion of mine traveling abroad.We were allies in a mysterious incident, that's all.She was about to walk towards the door when she turned around suddenly and asked: He had a secretary at that time, Esther.Mrs. Walters.I don't know if it's too presumptuous to ask. Did Mr. Raphael leave fifty thousand pounds for her? His estate will be published in the newspapers, Mr. Brotley said.But I can answer your question in the affirmative.By the way, Mrs. Waters has changed her name to Mrs. Anderson, and she is married again. I'm so happy to hear that.She is a widow and has a daughter.She seemed to be a competent secretary and understood Mr. Raphael's psychology very well.She is a good woman.I'm so glad she got a bequest. Miss Marple sat that evening in her straight-backed arm-chair, with her feet stretched out towards the hearth where a small fire was burning because of a sudden cold snap.This kind of cold snap, as usual, may arrive in the UK anytime, anywhere.She again took the papers out of the long envelope she had received in the morning.She still read it dubiously, and whispered it from time to time, as if to deepen the impression of these sentences in her mind: St. Mary Mead Village Jane.miss marple This letter will be sent after my death by my attorney James.Mr. Brotley delivers it to you.I hired him to handle my personal legal matters, not business matters.He's a steady, dependable lawyer, but like most people, he's curious.I didn't satisfy his curiosity.There are aspects of this that only you and I know.Dear Miss Marple, our code word is Nemesis.I don't think you'll forget the place and the context in which you first mentioned the word to me.Having been in the mall for so long, I know what I want to find in the people I hire.The man must have a talent for the tasks I give him.That is neither knowledge nor experience; the only word that can describe it is talent, that is, an innate ability. And you, dear, if you will let me call you that, have a gift for justice, and therefore a gift for fighting crime.I want you to investigate a crime.I have prepared a sum of money which will be yours in full if you accept my request and the crime is brought to light.I give you one year to complete the task.You're getting old, but let me say this, you're tough, and I'm sure you'll have at least one more year to live. I am sure you will not hate this task.Dare I say, you have a talent for getting to the bottom of things.At any time during this time, the necessary expenses for undertaking this task will be remitted to you.I give you this job to make some adjustments in your current life. I can imagine you sitting in a comfortable chair specially purchased for rheumatism.I believe that people of your age, no matter who they are, have more or less rheumatism.If it affects your knees or back, it will cause you inconvenience, so you have to spend most of your time knitting.I can see you wrapped in a ball of pink wool, like the night my sleep was interrupted by your emergency. I can imagine you knitting more coats, hoods, and a whole bunch of stuff I can't name.If you choose to continue knitting, the decision is yours, and if you choose to do justice, I hope you will at least find it interesting. Let justice be like flowing water, flowing endlessly, Let justice be like a brook that never stops. Amos (Hebrew prophet of the eighth century BC)