Rumor

For a moment L found it impossible to determine whether he was talking to a honest thick-headed scientist or, rather, an ingenious crook. However, in no time he realized he did not have to tell the difference. After all, he was merely hired by the village as the mayor. The political price - if there is such a currency - is just too high to miss a disaster, while his gain of spotting a scoundrel is trivial.

He remembered a friend of his - a malicious nephrologist - told him there's something called protective medicine. Now, L decided to practice protective administration.

He called his subordinates and asked them to follow the order of the alternative scientist.

***********************
Einstein was wrong. There's something faster than light - rumor.

That afternoon, the village was all panic. Everyone was discussing whether L or Y or some higher authority was using the haunted house as an excuse to take over the properties of rich people in the village. They had heard that such kind of thing did happen in Russia and some other places south to Siberia when some delinquent students of Karl Marx took over the country.

That evening, Dorothy, the wife of Mr Ferrars, invited James, her family doctor, to dine at the King's Paddock.

It could well be the last supper before the Paddock was closed and taken over by the Gestapo.