marvelous rosaline

17

As the "mother" of Detective Poirot and Miss Marple, the author, Ms. Agatha, once served as a medical volunteer during World War I and has rich knowledge of pharmacology.So in her writing, poisoning cases are not uncommon.

Because of this, Rosalin became a little toxic () biologist early on.

"Strychnine."

Rosalind commented seriously: "It's too classic."

In the 20s, the control of drugs was not so strict, and even prescription drugs could be easily obtained through various channels as long as they were willing.

Miss Dixon, who was pinned to the ground, struggled to push away Rosalind's hand. She looked over the girl squatting in front of her and looked at Gatsby. Gatsby caught her gaze and just took a step forward, closing the garden door. The door of the living room.

The last hope in Miss Dirkson's eyes dimmed.

"Who gave you this?" Rosalind asked.

"Yes, I bought it from the pharmacy," Miss Dexen tried her best to maintain her expression, "Why, can't it? I just carry the medicine with me!"

"is it?"

Rosalin tilted her head: "Then do you know what it does?"

Miss Dirksen's eyes flickered desperately.

Rosalin let go of the other's hand.She stood up, took out the veil and wiped her left hand: "100 mg of syrconine is enough to kill a person, and usually the onset will occur within an hour. It will destroy the human central nervous system, and the middle ( ) poisoner will be like a tetanus attack, first suffocation, and then the body begins to convulse until the whole person curls up into an arch. Ah, have you ever seen a dissected frog?"

Her words were light and easy, as if she was telling some wonderful and interesting life stories.

"Press the frog's nerves with tweezers, and even if it dies, its thighs will still twitch," Rosalin said. And the convulsions continued. Most poisons can make the poisoner suffer, but strychnine is the best of them.”

After finishing speaking, Rosalin was a little proud: dissecting a frog, how vivid this metaphor is!

"I've always felt that if it wasn't for the extreme hatred, the murderer would not have chosen poison () with such painful symptoms," she looked at Miss Dirksen with a terrified expression, "So, Miss Dirksen, do you hate being here? Which one is going to use the horse () qianzijing?"

Miss Dixon: "I, I didn't!"

Gatsby came back with a tense face.

"is it?"

He shook the glass bottle in his hand: "In this case, give this bottle of medicine to the police and let professionals identify what it is."

Rosalin added understandingly: "If you hand it over to the police, you will be charged with attempted murder."

Miss Dixon: "I-I didn't murder, I-I didn't want to kill at all!"

Of course she didn't want to.

When Rosalin said the name of Ma () Qian Zijian, Gatsby's expression suddenly changed, but Miss Dixon didn't respond.It is enough to prove that she has no idea what is in the glass bottle, and it is a complete lie to say that she bought it at the drugstore.

Poison () medicine can only be given to her by someone else.

"Then you tell who gave you the poison," said Rosalind, "to prove that you have been used."

"I do not--"

"If you don't tell me, I'll tell Mr. Farrell."

"Don't tell her!"

Miss Dixon, who was lying on the ground, struggled to get up immediately when she heard Mr. Farrell's name.

"How did I know it was poison () medicine, I never thought of killing people," she couldn't stop crying as she spoke, and the rest of the words were broken by sobbing, "It's just that someone told me, told me Tonight, dinner, my seat is very close to yours, so, so..."

"So?" Roseline asked.

"So someone gave me this and said to put it in your wine glass!"

Miss Dirksen cried, her sweet face distorted with fear and excitement, and her makeup messed up: "Why! Why did you get the lead actress of the Williams couple so easily, you never I have never had any acting experience before, do you know how much effort I spent to get such an opportunity!"

"Sleeping in a bunk bed, living in a basement, competing with a dozen competitors for a small role with only two lines - I have worked hard on Broadway for so many years, climbing up step by step, and have worked so hard for so long," she hissed. He opened his lungs, "I know I'm not good enough, I don't have such a good voice, so I want someone to praise me. You all look down on me as Farrell's lover, but at least he is willing to spend money for me, Even my parents are unwilling to spend an extra penny for me!"

"I hate you so much! I hate Edith Poirot too! Foreigners with a French accent, talent darlings one after another, have attracted attention since they first arrived on Broadway, and won the leading role who will be popular in any role. what!

"Yes, I wanted to drug you, but the person who gave me the drug told me it was just a laxative! I wanted to make a fool of you, but I didn't want to kill you!"

Miss Dirksen cried uncontrollably when she was so excited that she couldn't even speak clearly.

Rosalin just blinked.

So excited, what about it?

Miss Marple had said that Rosalind was not very good at feeling other people's emotions.This defect once caused her educational troubles when she was young, but as Rosalin grew up, with the efforts of several elders, her logical thinking judgment is now enough to make up for the emotional defect.

But if you can understand it, you can understand it. When encountering such a scene where the other party's emotions are too intense, Rosalin is a little... unable to keep up.

How should this be done?

The other party's mood swings are too large, which will affect the continued pursuit of clues.Rosalin frantically recalled Miss Marple's methods of handling similar cases, and found that none of them could be fully applied to the current scene.

Miss Marple also said that when you can't do it yourself, you can ask the people around you for help.

So Rosalin raised her head and looked at Gatsby eagerly.

With a glass bottle in his hand, the man stood on the only path between the corridor and the door.Gatsby is tall, directly blocking the way for Miss Dixon to escape.

The guest brought poison () medicine at the banquet, so the face of his host was naturally not very good-looking.A faint low air pressure lingered around Gatsby, making his deliberately hidden military spirit more obvious.

The four eyes met, his suppressed vigilance was in stark contrast to Rosalind's bewilderment.

Gatsby raised his eyebrows: "What?"

Rosalin pointed to Miss Dirkson who was crying bitterly, her green eyes were filled with sincerity: "Can you calm her down? Otherwise, I won't be able to ask."

Gatsby:"……"

The tall and straight man couldn't help but rubbed his eyebrows and sighed.

Rosalin's heart raised: "Is this so difficult?"

Gatsby glanced at her: "I'm not sighing for Miss Dixon, Rosalind."

Rosalind:?

She wanted to ask again, but Gatsby had already pulled out his handkerchief and crouched down.

He chose to make eye contact with Miss Dexen, then handed over the handkerchief in his hand, and said calmly: "Crying like this will hurt your throat."

Rosalin had imagined several ways of appeasement in advance, none of which was as effective as Gatsby's simple words.For a singer, there is nothing more terrifying than having your voice hurt.

Miss Dirkson stopped crying as if the mute button had been pressed.She was hiccupping uncontrollably because she collected it too quickly.

"You're just being taken advantage of," he said, "and there's a chance to make amends."

"Yes."

Rosalin seized the opportunity and asked directly: "Who gave you the poison () medicine?"

Miss Dirksen barely sat up straight from the floor.She took the handkerchief Gatsby offered and wiped away her tears.The makeup was wiped off like this, directly turning the sweet female singer into a cat.

"I do not know."

She sobbed and replied: "It is an audience who often comes to my performances. He always buys the third box in the theater, but he never shows his face and has no contact with me. I was curious to inquire with the theater and learned that the other party bought tickets. They used fake names. Just yesterday, when I finished work, the field manager sent a beautiful box to the dressing room, which contained this bottle of medicine and a letter."

Rosalind: "May I read the letter?"

Miss Dexon: "Follow, whatever you want, anyway, I have already lost all face!"

Rosalin completely ignored Miss Dirkson's grief, and smiled brightly: "Thank you!"

Gatsby, who watched the whole process, felt suffocated for Rosalind.

Seeing that Rosalin had finished asking questions, he had no choice but to call the housekeeper and asked her to take Miss Dexen to the guest room to rest, and declared to the public that she was just frightened by the wild cats in the garden while she was taking a breath outside, and she would not be here for the time being. Handy for dinner parties.

After finishing the ending of the episode, Gatsby turned back.

"I told you, Rosalind."

As soon as the door of the living room was closed, Gatsby put on a serious tone: "You will definitely be in danger if you come to get the relic. Franky Kutch has already died for it, why do you still want to jump into this fire pit?" inside?"

Rosalin grasped the key point keenly: "So you know that Detective Kaqi died because of this, so I'm afraid you also know who killed him?"

Gatsby: "You—"

He seemed to be planning to reprimand, but when the words came to his lips, meeting Rosalin's straightforward eyes, the man sighed again.

"I don't know the murderer," he replied, "I only know that Frank Cage is an old friend of your mother's. He investigated me about the Times Theater. I found out and warned him. When I learned about him again The message is that his obituary is in the press."

Ok.

Judging by his appearance, it doesn't look like he is lying.

"Rosalind," Gatsby advised, "it's too late to give up now."

"three things."

"what?"

She didn't listen to the other party's advice at all, Rosalin raised three fingers.

"First, it's time for a new staff at your mansion, Mr. Gatsby," she said, "someone has leaked something."

Even the "fans" who had never met Miss Dexon knew the seating arrangements for today's banquet, which was enough to show that the mastermind behind the scenes didn't want to kill Gatsby, otherwise it would be a matter of minutes to suffocate him to death on the bed with pillows.

"Second, someone is following me, probably since I got off the boat... No, maybe earlier."

The fact that she was chosen as the heroine hadn't been made public yet, but the other party already knew about it, and Rosalin was still using a false identity.

"third……"

Rosalin looked in the direction where Miss Dexen left just now, and put on a regretful expression as much as she could.

"Miss Dixon is dying."