"Assassin!"
This was the cry which rang out in the stillness of the night, and aroused the interest of one inhabitant of Brakely Square who was awake. Mr. Gregory Farrington, a victim of insomnia1, heard the sound, and put down the book he was reading, with a frown. He rose from his easy chair, pulled his velvet2 dressing3 gown lightly round his rotund form and shuffled4 to the window. His blinds were lowered, but these were of the ordinary type, and he stuck two fingers between two of the laths.
There was a moist film on the window through which the street lamps showed blurred5 and indistinct, and he rubbed the pane6 clear with the tips of his fingers (he described every action to T. B. Smith afterwards).
Two men stood outside the house. They occupied the centre of the deserted7 pavement, and they were talking excitedly. Through the closed window Mr. Farrington could hear the staccato rattle8 of their voices, and by the gesticulations, familiar to one who had lived for many years in a Latin country, he gathered that they were of that breed.
He saw one raise his hand to strike the other and caught the flash of a pistol-barrel excitedly flourished.
"Humph!" said Mr. Farrington.
He was alone in his beautiful house in Brakely Square. His butler, the cook, and one sewing maid and the chauffeur9 were attending the servants' ball which the Manley-Potters were giving. Louder grew the voices on the pavement.
"Thief!" shrilled10 a voice in French, "Am I to be robbed of----" and the rest was indistinguishable.
There was a policeman on point duty at the other side of the square. Mr. Farrington's fingers rubbed the glass with greater energy, and his anxious eyes looked left and right for the custodian11 of the law.
He crept down the stairs, opened the metal flap of the letter-box and listened. It was not difficult to hear all they said, though they had dropped their voices, for they stood at the foot of the steps.
"What is the use?" said one in French. "There is a reward large enough for two--but for him--my faith! there is money to be made, sufficient for twenty. It is unfortunate that we should meet on similar errands, but I swear to you I did not desire to betray you----" The voice sank.
Mr. Farrington chewed the butt12 of his cigar in the darkness of the hall and pieced together the jigsaw13 puzzle of this disjointed conversation. These men must be associates of Montague--Montague Fallock, who else?
Montague Fallock, the blackmailer14 for whom the police of Europe were searching, and individually and separately they had arranged to blackmail15 him--or betray him.
The fact that T. B. Smith also had a house in Brakely Square, and that T. B. Smith was an Assistant Commissioner16 of the police, and most anxious to meet Montague Fallock in the flesh, might supply reason enough to the logical Mr. Farrington for this conversation outside his respectable door.
"Yes, I tell you," said the second man, angrily, "that I have arranged to see M'sieur--you must trust me----"
"We go together," said the other, definitely, "I trust no man, least of all a confounded Neapolitan----"
Constable17 Habit had not heard the sound of quarrelling voices, as far as could be gathered from subsequent inquiry18. His statement, now in the possession of T. B. Smith, distinctly says, "I heard nothing unusual."
But suddenly two shots rang out.
"Clack--clack!" they went, the unmistakable sound of an automatic pistol or pistols, then a police whistle shrieked19, and P. C. Habit broke into a run in the direction of the sound, blowing his own whistle as he ran.
He arrived to find three men, two undoubtedly20 dead on the ground, and the third, Mr. Farrington's unpicturesque figure, standing21 shivering in the doorway22 of his house, a police whistle at his lips, and his grey velvet dressing-gown flapping in a chill eastern wind.
Ten minutes later T. B. Smith arrived on the scene from his house, to find a crowd of respectable size, half the bedroom windows of Brakely Square occupied by the morbid23 and the curious, and the police ambulance already on the spot.
"Dead, sir," reported the constable.
T. B. looked at the men on the ground. They were obviously foreigners. One was well, almost richly dressed; the other wore the shabby evening dress of a waiter, under the long ulster which covered him from neck to foot.
The men lay almost head to head. One flat on his face (he had been in this position when the constable found him, and had been restored to that position when the methodical P. C. Habit found that he was beyond human assistance) and the other huddled24 on his side.
The police kept the crowd at a distance whilst the head of the secret police (T. B. Smith's special department merited that description) made a careful examination. He found a pistol on the ground, and another under the figure of the huddled man, then as the police ambulance was backed to the pavement, he interviewed the shivering Mr. Farrington.
"If you will come upstairs," said that chilled millionaire, "I will tell you all I know."
T. B. sniffed25 the hall as he entered, but said nothing. He had his olfactory26 sense developed to an abnormal degree, but he was a tactful and a silent man.
He knew Mr. Farrington--who did not?--both as a new neighbour and as the possessor of great wealth.
"Your daughter----" he began.
"My ward," corrected Mr. Farrington, as he switched on all the lights of his sitting-room27, "she is out--in fact she is staying the night with my friend Lady Constance Dex--do you know her?"
T. B. nodded.
"I can only give you the most meagre information," said Mr. Farrington. He was white and shaky, a natural state for a law-abiding man who had witnessed wilful28 murder. "I heard voices and went down to the door, thinking I would find a policeman--then I heard two shots almost simultaneously29, and opened the door and found the two men as they were found by the policeman."
"What were they talking about?"
Mr. Farrington hesitated.
"I hope I am not going to be dragged into this case as a witness?" he asked, rather than asserted, but received no encouragement in the spoken hope from T. B. Smith.
"They were discussing that notorious man, Montague Fallock," said the millionaire; "one was threatening to betray him to the police."
"Yes," said T. B. It was one of those "yesses" which signified understanding and conviction.
Then suddenly he asked:
"Who was the third man?"
Mr. Farrington's face went from white to red, and to white again.
"The third man?" he stammered30.
"I mean the man who shot those two," said T. B., "because if there is one thing more obvious than another it is that they were both killed by a third person. You see," he went on, "though they had pistols neither had been discharged--that was evident, because on each the safety catch was raised. Also the lamp-post near which they stood was chipped by a bullet which neither could have fired. I suggest, Mr. Farrington, that there was a third man present. Do you object to my searching your house?"
A little smile played across the face of the other.
"I haven't the slightest objection," he said. "Where will you start?"
"In the basement," said T. B.; "that is to say, in your kitchen."
The millionaire led the way down the stairs, and descended31 the back stairway which led to the domain32 of the absent cook. He turned on the electric light as they entered.
There was no sign of an intruder.
"That is the cellar door," indicated Mr. Farrington, "this the larder33, and this leads to the area passage. It is locked."
T. B. tried the handle, and the door opened readily.
"This at any rate is open," he said, and entered the dark passageway.
"A mistake on the part of the butler," said the puzzled Mr. Farrington. "I have given the strictest orders that all these doors should be fastened. You will find the area door bolted and chained."
T. B. threw the rays of his electric torch over the door.
"It doesn't seem to be," he remarked; "in fact, the door is ajar."
"Ajar?" he repeated. T. B. stepped out into the well of the tiny courtyard. It was approached from the street by a flight of stone stairs.
T. B. threw the circle of his lamp over the flagged yard. He saw something glittering and stooped to pick it up. The object was a tiny gold-capped bottle such as forms part of the paraphernalia35 in a woman's handbag.
He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.
"That is it," he said.
"What?" asked Mr. Farrington, suspiciously.
"The scent36 I detected in your hall," replied T. B. "A peculiar37 scent, is it not?" He raised the bottle to his nose again. "Not your ward's by any chance?"
Farrington shook his head vigorously.
"Doris has never been in this area in her life," he said; "besides, she dislikes perfumes."
T. B. slipped the bottle in his pocket.
Further examination discovered no further clue as to the third person, and T. B. followed his host back to the study.
"What do you make of it?" asked Mr. Farrington.
T. B. did not answer immediately. He walked to the window and looked out. The little crowd which had been attracted by the shots and arrival of the police ambulance had melted away. The mist which had threatened all the evening had rolled into the square and the street lamps showed yellow through the dingy38 haze39.
"I think," he said, "that I have at last got on the track of Montague Fallock."
Mr. Farrington looked at him with open mouth.
"You don't mean that?" he asked incredulously.
T. B. inclined his head.
"The open door below--the visitor?" jerked the stout40 man, "you don't think Montague Fallock was in the house to-night?"
T. B. nodded again, and there was a moment's silence.
"He has been blackmailing41 me," said Mr. Farrington, thoughtfully, "but I don't think----"
The detective turned up his coat collar preparatory to leaving.
"I have a rather unpleasant job," he said. "I shall have to search those unfortunate men."
Mr. Farrington shivered. "Beastly," he said, huskily.
T. B. glanced round the beautiful apartment with its silver fittings, its soft lights and costly42 panellings. A rich, warm fire burnt in an oxidized steel grate. The floor was a patchwork43 of Persian rugs, and a few pictures which adorned44 the walls must have been worth a fortune.
On the desk there was a big photograph in a plain silver frame--the photograph of a handsome woman in the prime of life.
"Pardon me," said T. B., and crossed to the picture, "this is----"
"Lady Constance Dex," said the other, shortly--"a great friend of mine and my ward's."
"Is she in town?"
Mr. Farrington shook his head.
"She is at Great Bradley," he said; "her brother is the rector there."
"Great Bradley?"
T. B.'s frown showed an effort to recollect45 something.
"Isn't that the locality which contains the Secret House?"
"I've heard something about the place," said Mr. Farrington with a little smile.
"C. D.," said the detective, making for the door.
"What?"
"Lady Constance Dex's initials, I mean," said T. B.
"Yes--why?"
"Those are the initials on the gold scent bottle, that is all," said the detective. "Good night."
He left Mr. Farrington biting his finger nails--a habit he fell into when he was seriously perturbed46.
收听单词发音 |
1
insomnia
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| n.失眠，失眠症 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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8
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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shrilled
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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custodian
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| n.保管人，监护人；公共建筑看守 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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13
jigsaw
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| n.缕花锯，竖锯，拼图游戏；vt.用竖锯锯，使互相交错搭接 | |
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14
blackmailer
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| 敲诈者，勒索者 | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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19
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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23
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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26
olfactory
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| adj.嗅觉的 | |
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27
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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28
wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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29
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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30
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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32
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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33
larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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34
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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36
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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39
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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41
blackmailing
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| 胁迫，尤指以透露他人不体面行为相威胁以勒索钱财( blackmail的现在分词 ) | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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43
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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44
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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45
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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46
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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