“An elementary piece of reasoning,” he said, apologetically. “In fact, upon reflection, Inspector2 Baddeley takes more honors than I.”
Baddeley who was doing his best to bring Marshall round, looked up and waved away the compliment. “I missed my chance,” he said.
“You will remember that when our friend here”—Anthony indicated the Inspector—“arrived on the scene, he saw the open window—and immediately had a look at it. I was watching him, and by one of those rare chances of observation, I noticed that something had attracted his sense of smell—he sniffed3. And apparently4 although he detected something—he wasn’t quite satisfied as to what it really was. I followed him up—I’ve a good nasal organ”—he rubbed it humorously—“and I was able to detect round the windows and also round the window-sill, a faint aroma—pungent—faintly spicy5. I suddenly deduced furniture polish—you all know the smell. Marshall uses gloves every morning when she wields6 the cloth with the polish on; you can well imagine how thoroughly7 impregnated they are with the odor. When she saw Prescott’s body—I said to myself—she rushed to this window and opened it—she leaned out—she placed her gloved hands on the sill—why? And then, gentlemen, I was lucky. Adhering to the wooden top of the window frame—the part under which she had placed her finger-tips to push up the window, was a tiny pink fleck8 of Ronuk floor polish. It had come off the glove. Now—why did she open the window?”
97
“Is it a crime to open a window?” The interruption came from Marshall herself. She walked unsteadily to a chair. “I’ve listened to part of what you’ve said. Are you going to ’ang me for opening a window?”
“You admit you did open it, then?” urged Baddeley. “Why did you lie about it?”
Marshall eyed him fiercely.
“Why did you open it?” he rapped out.
“I forgot about it! What with all your questions and all your cross-questionin’ it just slipped my mind. That was why.”
“You haven’t answered the Inspector’s question,” remarked Anthony. “Why did you open it?”
“For a breath of air. Seeing that corpse9 and that dagger10 fair frightened me it did. I was struck all of a ’eap. Thought I was goin’ to faint, I did. My first thought was air—air. So I rushed to the window—then I screamed.”
“I see,” snapped Baddeley, threateningly. “You were playing to orders—open window first, then scream—eh? Who told you to do that?”
98
“What d’ye mean?” she exclaimed defiantly11. “Who told me! Nobody—I’m tellin’ the truth, I am.”
“The truth,” cried Baddeley incredulously. “You aren’t on speaking terms with it. Who told you? Come on out with it. It will go all the worse with you, if you don’t.”
“I can’t tell you no more than what I ’ave,” persisted Marshall. “Seeing that corpse on the table was as big a surprise to me as it was to you. And what’s more, you ’aven’t no right to keep me ’ere.”
Baddeley shrugged13 his shoulders.
“In a few hours’ time you’ll wish you’d told me the truth, my girl,” he said. “Get along now, and don’t play any tricks.”
Marshall made her exit, sullen14 and defiant12. But she was afraid of something I felt sure.
“May I use your telephone, Sir Charles? Thank you. I’ll get on to the Superintendent15 to send a couple more men up here. Marshall is worth watching.”
“Very well, Inspector.”
“And I won’t trouble to see Mrs. Arkwright or Miss Considine now—or the other servants. I’ll make a point of seeing them alone, later ... will that suit you, Sir Charles? ... this latest development has made a big difference. Come along, Roper.”
99
They bustled16 out. Anthony linked his arm in mine. “We’ll have a little lunch, Bill, first, and then I’m going to smoke a pipe in the garden ... there’s something hammering at my brain that I can’t properly get hold of.... I must be suffering from senile decay or something. A little good food and better drink may stimulate17 me. It sometimes happens.”
Lunch over, we adjourned18 to the garden.
“A deck-chair and a pipe, Bill—I find very useful adjuncts to clear thinking.”
“Has that inspiration come to you yet?” I queried19.
“No, Bill—but it will, laddie—don’t you fret20!”
“What’s Baddeley going to do?” I asked. “Arrest Marshall?”
“What for—murder?”
“Well, she seems to know something about it—you ought to think so, you bowled her over.”
“H’m—do you quite know where we are, Bill? Let me run over things for you. Come and sit at the feet of Gamaliel.
“Well, first of all there’s the question of motive21. Find the motive, say the Big Noises and you’ll find the murderer.”
“What about Lady Considine’s jewels? ...” I broke in.
“Yes, they do complicate22 things a bit, don’t they? Still, they supply a motive! Prescott may have been murdered by the thief ... dead men tell no tales. But there are other people with a motive ... there’s Barker,” he went on thoughtfully, “possibly Hornby ... these are the known motives23, what about the unknown—eh?”
100
“The whole thing seems so damned labyrinthine24 to me,” I muttered.
Anthony assented25. “Clear as Thames mud, isn’t it? But it won’t be a bad idea if we sit down and collect our evidence. What do we know as opposed to what we conjecture26?” He emphasized the points with his pipe on his finger-tips.
“(a) That when Marshall saw the body—she rushed to the window and opened it.
“(b) That Jack27 Considine thinks he heard a door shutting during the night.
“(c) That Dick Arkwright (who is supported in this by his wife or says he is), heard footsteps in the garden.
“(d) That Barker’s I.O.U. is missing. Baddeley says so!
“(e) That the murder was premeditated.”
I started. “How do you know that?” I demanded.
“The lace was removed from Prescott’s shoe, my dear Bill. If the murder were one of sudden passion, you wouldn’t say ‘lend me your shoe while I take out the lace.’”
“Of course,” I conceded. “I should have thought.”
“Let’s get on! Where were we?...
“(f) That Prescott appears to have crossed the rose-bed under the billiard room window some time between seven and his death.
“(g) That somebody else did, too—at some time after seven.
101
“(h) That the Venetian dagger or the poker28 found on the billiard room floor shows finger-prints.”
“What?” I yelled. “How the devil do you deduce that? You haven’t examined them! You haven’t looked at either of them enough to know that.”
He grinned. “William, my lad, you won’t always have me to hold your little hand. Didn’t you tumble to Baddeley’s game with the letter?”
“What letter?”
“The letter he asked us to identify. That was for finger-prints, old son ... he’d prepared it in the usual way ... he’s got excellent prints of you and me. And of the others.” He chuckled29. “He had at least two letters he was handing round.”
“Why?” I asked.
“He was probably taking three or four people to one letter. Roper was marking them as we fingered them. Roper wrote them while we were in the garden.” He chuckled again. “That was how I spotted30 it.”
“How?”
“You remember they were torn, don’t you, where the signature should have been ... well, the first two tears I saw, didn’t exactly coincide in shape ... see ... that was what I looked at when Baddeley was asking Jack Considine ... it’s deuced hard, Bill, to tear things exactly similarly. Torn, that is, in the way they were torn. He probably used a third letter later on ... but I wasn’t concerned with that.”
102
“Good Lord,” I groaned31, “and I never knew.”
“I’m now proceeding32 with the last of things we know,” continued Anthony.
“(i) That Lady Considine has lost her pearls. Anything else? I think not! I think that just about exhausts what we know.”
“Prescott was robbed too,” I ventured.
“Of how much, Bill?—nobody knows.”
I saw his point. Then I broached33 a matter over which I had felt very curious.
“You told me this morning, after we had been first called to the billiard room that you had three distinct clues—two I think you said, in Group A and one in Group B. What were they?”
“Hasten slowly, William. Hasten slowly. I’ll meet you half-way. The clue in Group B was my little triumph that resulted in the discomfiture34 of Mademoiselle Marshall.”
“And the other two?” I persisted eagerly.
“The other two, Bill, are now three. But I haven’t developed them properly yet. There’s a missing link, somewhere, and until I get it, I’m floundering a bit. What do you make of Marshall?”
“Well,” I answered doubtfully—“I think she’s afraid of something.”
He knocked the ash out of his pipe.
“I’m curious about Marshall—she knows something she hasn’t divulged—why did she open that window? Tell me that.”
“How about Baddeley’s theory?” I put in.
103
“What? Acting35 under instructions? Open the window—then scream?” He shook his head. “Don’t think so—somehow.”
“Do you know, Bill” ... he went on, “Se?orita Marshall’s face haunts me rather. I can’t get away from it.”
“Love at first sight,” I chaffed. “All good detectives do it ... think of Irene Adler.”
“No—not that, Bill. Not in that way. It’s a different feeling altogether. I can’t forget it ... because I can’t place it.... I seem to have seen it before somehow. The question is where?”
“The Eton and Harrow match at Lords’,” I suggested sarcastically36.
“Don’t be an ass1. Lords’! I keep conjuring37 up a photograph—Lords’! Don’t suppose she’s ever heard of Lords’ ... let alone ever been there. ... Holy Smoke, Bill, I’ve got it!!! And by a miracle of miracles, your mention of Lords’ gave it to me. Great Scott! What a bit of luck.”
Now this was the manner of Mr. Bathurst’s memory.
“Do you ever see The Prattler38, Bill?”
“Sometimes! Always when I’m here—Sir Charles Considine has taken it since it started!”
“He has? Better and better, laddie. I’m on the crest39 of the wave. Listen! This is what I’ve remembered. Do you remember the second Test Match of the Australian tour in 1921? At Lords’.”
104
“What are you getting at?” I said rather peevishly40. “Are you trying to prove that it rained or something—you know it always rains for Test Matches.”
“No—I’m deadly serious. The Australians won easily—but that isn’t the point—the last ball bowled—by Durston it was, flew out of his hand and went somewhere in the region of ‘cover.’ Before the umpire called ‘wide’ Bardsley, who was batting at the time, chased after it, got to it, and promptly41 ‘despatched it to the boundary’ as the reporters said. I remember the incident perfectly42 now.” He smiled with satisfaction.
“Well,” I said, “What in the name of thunder has this to do with Marshall?”
“This, Bill.” His voice grew serious.
“The Prattler printed a photograph of the incident....”
“Yes ...” I remarked.
“And next to the photograph—in the adjoining space—they printed a photograph of Fraulein Marshall. Now what do you say? I can see it now.”
“In what relation? ...” I protested.
“Can’t recall, William. All I can see is Bardsley’s uplifted bat and adjoining it the face of Marshall. It’s five years ago, remember. But we’ll soon find out. It’s easy! Or it should be.” He sprang to his feet excitedly. “We will now proceed to investigate. I wonder what Sir Charles does with his old Prattlers?”
“Best way to find out will be to ask him!” I ventured.
105
“Excellent advice, William, that I am going to take. Allons!” Mary Considine met us as we went up to the house.
She looked deathly pale, I thought, and utterly43 discomfited44 by the events of the day. I would much rather have stopped in the garden with Mary than gone chasing old copies of The Prattler with Anthony. She stopped us.
“Bill—Mr. Bathurst! I have just been interviewed by Inspector Baddeley, and been asked if I can recognize some handwriting.” She flung us a glance under her long lashes45. “Tell me,” she questioned us, “does he suspect anybody in the house of having done this awful thing? It’s unthinkable.”
“Don’t you worry, Mary,” I replied. “It’s only the usual official formality carried out by the Police.”
She turned to Anthony.
“Who could have killed him, Mr. Bathurst? I can’t realize it—yesterday alive and in such ... good spirits ... and now to-day....” She broke off and shook her head helplessly.
“You’re upset,” said Anthony, sympathetically. “Very naturally. It has been a shock to you. How is Lady Considine?”
“Wonderful, considering. I think the murder has to some extent mitigated46 the loss of her pearls ... can you understand?” She looked up at him and then half smiled towards me. Her pallor only seemed to accentuate47 her loveliness. I have never seen eyes like Mary’s—and I found myself dreaming dreams.
106
“Jack has sent word to poor Mrs. Prescott—I don’t know what I shall say to her.” The violet eyes fringed with tears. “It would have been difficult,” she went on, “with someone you knew ... it will be infinitely48 more difficult with a stranger.”
Anthony conveyed more sympathy with a slight gesture.
“I am sure it will be in able hands. Can you help me now? I want to turn up an old copy of The Prattler. Bill tells me your father has taken it for years. Do you keep them?”
“How long ago is the copy you want?”
“Just over five years,” he replied.
“Then we can’t help you. We never keep more than those of the current year. Is it important?”
“It is, rather,” responded Anthony. “Do you know what becomes of them?”
“I am not quite sure, Mr. Bathurst, but I believe Father sends them to the Cottage Hospital. Come in and see Father—he’ll tell you at once.”
Sir Charles and Lady Considine were in the library.
“Father,” said Mary, “Mr. Bathurst and Bill want you. They want to know where the old copies of The Prattler go?”
Sir Charles looked wonderment.
“It’s rather an unusual request, I know, sir,” said Anthony; “but believe me, I have excellent reasons for worrying you over it.”
“The Prattler? They’re sent to the Allingham Cottage Hospital at the end of every year,” he said.
107
“H’m—hard luck,” muttered Anthony. “The Allingham Cottage Hospital! Far from here?”
“No,” declared Sir Charles. “About five miles, walking across the Downs. Eight and a half by road.”
“A walk across the Downs would be the very thing for Bill ... he shall have it. He shall accompany me.”
“Which I hope will prove to be the end of a perfect day,” I grumbled49.
“You look pretty tired, Bill, now I can gaze upon you properly,” he said, as we struck off across the Downs. “But I shan’t be able to rest till I’ve satisfied myself. Till then my eager excitement will keep me going.”
“I am tired,” I rejoined. “And I’ve a very shrewd idea that we are on a fool’s errand. I don’t suppose for one moment they keep copies of periodicals for five years.”
“Very likely you’re right, Bill. It’s a long shot, but it may strike home—there’s nothing lost if we don’t—we can easily turn up the files at the British Museum—but that will take time—whereas this is opportune50.”
After about one hour and a quarter’s walking, we saw our objective. Anthony gave his card to the porter and after a brief period of waiting we were ushered51 into the presence of the Matron.
The atmosphere of Considine Manor52 worked wonders. I have always noticed that the Matron dearly loves a lord.
108
She could not say if she could help Mr. ... she referred to his card... Mr. Bathurst ... many periodicals and magazines were presented to the Hospital ... but she didn’t know quite what became of them. She would ring for the steward53. Anthony thanked her. Yes, the steward could help us. Most of the books of that kind when finished with, were sold to a man named Clarke, who kept a shop in Brighton.
“What kind of a shop?” asked Anthony.
“A kind of second-hand54 bookseller’s, where old magazines and periodicals of all kinds were put in boxes in front of the shop and sold for twopence or threepence.”
“Hopeless, Bill. Perfectly hopeless!” He turned to express his thanks.
The Matron expressed her sorrow that his quest was fruitless.
Then the steward of the Allingham Cottage Hospital had a brain-wave.
“It’s just come to me, sir,” he exclaimed, “that Dr. Mackenzie—that’s the doctor in the village—used to take The Prattler to put on the table of his waiting-room. He’s a lot of office patients, you see, sir, and isn’t over particular about the date of the news he puts in front of them. So he may have some old ones.”
“It’s a chance, certainly,” exclaimed Anthony, “but a slender one.
“Thank you, Matron. Now for Dr. Mackenzie. There are points in favor of his parsimony55.”
109
The steward directed us, and ten minutes’ quick walk brought us to the house. The doctor was in. He listened to us ... would be pleased to help us. As far as he knew all the Spears were somewhere in the Office Patients’ waiting-room ... yes, and The Prattlers. Would we care to look? There would be a couple of dozen or so on the table—the rest would be in a pile on a book wagon56 there....
“June, Bill ...” muttered Anthony. “About the third week in June.”
It was not on the table. I wasn’t sorry ... too greasy57 and too well-thumbed to be exactly pleasant. We divided the piles from the wagon. About twenty each. An exclamation58 from Anthony!
“Here it is, Bill. This would be the one. Come and look.”
He turned the pages rapidly ... then....
“There!” triumphantly59, “look at that.”
I looked.
There was the Test Match photograph he had described to me, and next to it, just as he had said, was the face of Marshall, and underneath60 it I was amazed to read—“Constance Webb, wife of ‘Spider’ Webb, the famous jewel thief of three countries, leaving the Central Criminal Court, at the conclusion of her husband’s trial. He was sentenced to five years’ penal61 servitude.”
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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spicy
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| adj.加香料的；辛辣的，有风味的 | |
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wields
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的第三人称单数 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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thoroughly
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fleck
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corpse
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dagger
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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defiant
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shrugged
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sullen
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superintendent
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bustled
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stimulate
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adjourned
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queried
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fret
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motive
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complicate
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motives
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labyrinthine
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assented
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conjecture
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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poker
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chuckled
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spotted
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groaned
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proceeding
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broached
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discomfiture
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acting
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sarcastically
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conjuring
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prattler
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crest
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peevishly
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promptly
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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utterly
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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mitigated
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accentuate
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infinitely
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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opportune
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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53
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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54
second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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55
parsimony
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| n.过度节俭，吝啬 | |
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56
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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57
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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58
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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59
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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60
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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61
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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