Operation Red Book

Chapter 438 The cruel truth

"Do you have evidence?"

Mrs. Bruce said in a trembling voice. She was shaking all over, and her face, which was already as thin as a skeleton, became even more haggard.

"Of course. Don't worry. When the time comes, I will show you all of them..."

Holmes smiled and tried to take a cigarette out of his pocket, but found it difficult to do so with one hand.

After a long silence, he finally put away the pistol, quickly lit a cigarette, put it in his mouth and started puffing smoke.

"Wendy must like that medal very much. It's triangular and blue, with a dove of peace spreading its wings on it."

"But as far as I know, Master Goodwin won it in the competition a few days ago."

"I heard that two children were arguing about it. One thought it was an honor he deserved, while the other thought it was a problem with the competition props."

"This should be easy to handle. Check the equipment and make sure there are no problems before comparing again. There won't be any problems, right? But what did you do, ma'am?"

Madam swallowed her saliva, tried to calm herself down, and said slowly:

"I gave the medal to the Goodwin children because we are the host family and we should be humble and courteous to guests coming from afar..."

"No, because you know, there was nothing wrong with their equipment, and the reason Wendy's gun jammed was because someone put some gadgets in before the game."

Holmes exhaled the smoke from his mouth, and some disgust appeared in his eyes.

"This method is very common in noble competitions. Do you know the Russian Gregory who died recently in Scotland? He died in a duel. People thought he was dizzy because he drank too much vodka before the game. But they all overlooked an important issue. Gregory was a retired Russian front-line soldier and a sharpshooter who liked to drink a whole bottle of vodka before the battle..."

"So I personally took the pistol that Gregory used in the duel, and it was noteworthy that I found a small piece of cotton wool hidden in the gunpowder at the trumpet-shaped muzzle."

"Perhaps the flames generated by the friction of the bullet did not burn the cotton stuck in the muzzle completely, or perhaps the murderer was too panicked when he took out the cotton after the duel and did not handle it in time."

"Anyway, I have a reasonable suspicion that someone in the town of Rye also played this childish joke and stuffed a small ball of cotton into someone's gun muzzle..."

"Who is it? Madam must know very well..."

Holmes finished smoking a cigarette and threw the butt on the bottom of his shoe.

Mrs. Bruce's expression was very strange, but others could tell at a glance that she must know the whole truth of the matter.

"Let's talk about Xiao Ben's fall. I went to the crime scene, which is the stairs where he fell. The place was cleaned up very well. The carpet was replaced, the blood was cleaned up, the walls were painted, and the picture frames were moved..."

"But I noticed that all the stairs in the mansion were covered with thick carpets, and the wood underneath the carpets had long been rotten due to insects and waterlogging, just like a sponge filled with water. In this case, let alone a child, even a sea urchin would not lose many spines if it fell down."

"He broke his neck..." the lady said in tears.

"That is why you announced that he had broken his neck!" cried Holmes in a rage.

The air became frozen again. In the quiet of the night, Ivy heard the sound of Christine's tears falling to the ground.

"Xiao Ben died from a massive hemorrhage after the back of his head was smashed... That's why I was able to see him for the last time in his final years..."

She said this sadly, and her body suddenly went limp.

"Xiao Ben didn't die from falling down the stairs. Instead, he was pushed violently and his head hit the sharp-angled picture frame on the wall, which caused his head to be broken and he was thrown down the stairs!"

"Don't talk unnecessary nonsense to me! I went to see the boy's body. The wound on the back of his head was not a flat wound caused by being smashed, but a severe cone-shaped wound that was obviously pierced by a sharp object!"

"And! And! And the scar on his forehead. You said he hit the corner of the railing when he fell down the stairs, but there was no sawdust left in his wound at all!"

"You said it was cleaned up. Fine! Then let me ask you! Why is the scar on his forehead as deep as if it was cut by a knife? Why did you clean up all the places but leave the bloodstains on the railing?"

"Because you know! That's your way of covering up your mistake!"

After shouting, Holmes took out the exquisite medal from his pocket.

"I told you, your stairs have long been eaten away by hundreds of ants. That sharp corner isn't even a sharp point. If a person hits his head on it, the worst that can happen is just a bruise. But this..."

Holmes pointed to the triangular medal in his hand. The tip of the medal gleamed coldly in the moonlight, symbolizing the honor of receiving it.

"That was the 'sharp corner' that the murderer stabbed into Xiaoben's forehead in a hurry..."

"You liked it, didn't you, Miss Wendy Bruce? You liked it so much that you hid it under the bed in your bedroom without cleaning up the bloodstains until your mother found it."

Holmes tilted his head and shouted into the darkness of the woods.

After a while, a small figure appeared in everyone's sight.

It's Wendy...

In the dim moonlight, her face became even more delicate, like a doll deliberately dyed with blue ink.

"Baby! Why are you here? Didn't you drink that bowl of..."

The lady's eyes widened as she looked at Wendy and she exclaimed but suddenly stopped talking.

She clearly understood that Wendy didn't even take two sips of the bowl of sleeping pills.

"You must be surprised to find out that your daughter is a murderer, but you shouldn't be that surprised. When you know that your daughter is an out-and-out sociopath, you should understand that her hands will eventually be stained with blood."

Holmes curled his lips and quickly threw the medal at the motionless Wendy.

The medal fell at her feet, like a poor abandoned creature.

"Don't pretend, smart girl. In the final, your trick was easily seen through by Xiao Ben, and he tricked you into winning your beloved medal and honor. You must have been holding a grudge against him for a long time."

"So when no one was around, you pretended to be playing around but deliberately pushed Xiao Ben towards the picture frame on the wall. The blood splattered and stained your face, causing you to go completely crazy. You dragged his head and smashed it against the hard picture frame several times, and finally pushed him down the stairs next to the picture frame."

"Looking at the large amount of blood gushing out on the ground, you must have been completely panicked."

"But in such a panic, you remained calm. You snatched Xiaoben's medal, stabbed him in the forehead, and smeared the blood on the corner of the railing."

"Then you hid the bloody medal under the bed, took down the picture frame on the wall and stuffed it somewhere in the castle, then strangled yourself hard, leaving traces of the fight, and then rolled down the stairs with all your heart."

"Yes, when I first saw you, I noticed the scars on your neck, but they were not the handprints of the little boy at all. Instead, they were scars left when your left and right hands pinched yourself."

"As for the rest, just leave it to your mother. After all, this hateful woman has already cleaned up countless messes for you, right? Miss Wendy Bruce?"

"No...that's not the case..."

The lady's face was already covered in tears. She slumped down in her chair, covering her face and crying.

She wanted to run towards her child, but she couldn't stand up immediately because of the pain in her leg. Holmes pushed her back into her seat, and she looked at Wendy and shed tears of regret.

"But I still have a question. You are a child, and you have lived in this gloomy castle for a long time, never leaving the main gate or the secondary gate. Who taught you all this?"

Holmes lit another cigarette and asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No, rather, who instigated you?"

The moonlight is dazzling, illuminating the earth with its cool rays.

Blue butterflies fluttered around, planting clusters of azure flames.

Wendy tilted her little body, slowly bent down, and slowly picked up the blue triangular medal on the sole of her foot.

When she stood up again, a faint smile appeared on her face. Somehow, Ivy found it familiar, as if she had seen such an expression on someone's face.

"There are indeed people fighting alongside me, Uncle Detective."

Wendy spoke slowly, opening her beautiful eyes, blowing at the medal, wiping it with her pretty fingers, and then putting it in her pocket like a treasure.

"It was my mother who made me do this...her father, my grandfather, F. Finnegan..."

"My father? This is impossible..."

"He couldn't possibly do such a thing!"

"Mother, mother..."

Wendy raised her delicate face, her beautiful eyelashes fluttered twice, and a few tears flashed.

"Grandpa, he once killed your beloved family. Have you forgotten everything?"