Chapter I.VIII

They got out of the car, and Galbraith, straightening the hem of his jacket, looked around. After the urban look of the center, it was a little unusual to be in the suburbs - no tall buildings, no bright signs, no mess of cars, only rare one- and two-storey cottages surrounded by wooden fences, tall grass with trampled paths and luxurious green crowns of trees... This rural idyll was slightly spoiled by an ambulance and a couple of police sedans standing nearby. Apparently the man from the Federal Bureau of Investigation they came here with, was only an aid to the head of the response service who had already arrived here. Galbraith, standing by the car and looking at the two-story house, for a moment remembered his childhood years spent in Gloucester. Father's wooden house, apple orchards, river...

- Come now, inspector, - Matt lightly pushed Galbraith on the shoulder. - Come into the house. 

All four passed through the threshold of the gate. An elderly woman with a white scarf on her head ran out to meet them.

- At last, a professional from F.B.I! - she shouted joyfully.

Galbraith, standing next to the doctor, looked at like a man in a black jacket, giving this village simpleton a stern look, walked past her. The woman seemed surprised by that behavior of person form Federal Bureau of Investigation. She stopped in her tracks, looking after the man entering the house.

- Can you explain to us what the exactly happened? - Galbraith turned to this woman.

She, hearing the inspector's voice, stopped looking at the house and quickly turned to the speaker. At the same time, her face, furrowed with deep wrinkles, expressed some bewilderment mixed with annoyance.

- And you are an inspector, as I understand it? - she said with some uncertainty.

Apparently, it was a surprise to her that the Federal Bureau of Investigation would also send an ordinary policeman along with their man. At the first glance at her, Galbraith had the feeling that like she thinks the cops are worse than the F.B.I. guys - at least that's what one might think, looking at her face, which expressed barely concealed contempt for the one who appeared before her at that very moment.

- I was called here like everyone else, - after a slight hesitation, Galbraith answered.

By "everyone" Galbraith meant both the response service and himself, the F.B.I. agent and the doctor. The latter, by the way, at that time stood with his hands on his hips next to him, and with a slight grin looked at the woman with a scarf on her head, who, however, did not pay much attention to him, but simply raised her hands to her temples and took a deep breath, as if gathering strength. After that, she looked up at Galbraith.

- All right, I got it, - she said with such a tone when in fact nothing is got. - Anyway, I'm walking past the Yonce's house and I hear a shot...

- We should sit down and discuss it calmly, - Matt interrupted her.

The woman, looking strangely at the doctor, went forward into the house, he immediately followed her. Galbraith, hearing a familiar surname, hesitated a little and ended up being the last to enter. They found themselves in the spacious hallway of a typical country cottage - There was a bench along the wall, above which hangers with clothes hung in several rows, a carpet lay on the floor, and vases with fresh flowers were placed in the corners of the hallway.

- Are we to remove our shoes before entering the house? - Matt asked cheerfully.

- The weather is nice outside now, this is not necessary, - the woman answered boredly.

They went into the hall. On the left hand there was a staircase leading to the second floor, on the left there was a door leading to the living room. What immediately caught eye was a large mirror in a gilded frame, which hung on the wall near the threshold. The general decoration of the house suggested that the owner was a rich man. So, he thought, here is the house, where it all happens...

He was torn from his thoughts by an old voice - a woman with a white scarf on her head began to talk about what had happened.

- So, I heard a shot and, sensing something was wrong, I ran to the Yonces, fortunately the gate and the front door were open.

- Did this seem strange to you? - Galbraith asked the woman, referring to her last words about the doors.

- Of course. I thought that robbers had broken into their house.

- Okay, go ahead.

- I run into the house, and there, right next to this mirror, Ivette is lying on the floor...

The woman with a white scarf on her head suddenly fell silent. Apparently, this picture was still standing before her eyes. It was not difficult for Galbraith to guess that the witness had missis Yonce in mind.

- Let me guess - the lady of the house shot herself with a pistol? - said the inspector.

- That's right... - the woman's voice trembled. - Parabellum was lying on the floor in front of her...

- Did you see the bullet mark on her body?

- I... I saw blood flowing from her forehead...

The woman pulled out a handkerchief and put it to her eyes. It seemed like she was about to cry

- Okay, madame... - the inspector expected her to say her name, but she did not hear his words

- Well, what we are and will stagnate? - suddenly a stern voice rang out.

From the bathtub, located directly opposite the entrance to the house, an F.B.I. man came out and approached the trinity crowded around the mirror. Galbraith looked at him. The agent's words - or rather, the intonation with which he pronounced them - seemed to him somewhat inappropriate in this situation. But the witness, hearing his voice, immediately blew her nose and hid her handkerchief.

- So, that you have taken hereafter? - Galbraith asked.

- I immediately went upstairs where the phone was, - the woman continued. - I called the police, they arrived with paramedics.