(Tuesday, September 11; 8 p. m.)
Markham dined at the Stuyvesant Club, as was his custom, and at his invitation Vance and I remained with him. He no doubt figured that our presence at the dinner-table would act as a bulwark1 against the intrusion of casual acquaintances; for he was in no mood for the pleasantries of the curious. Rain had begun to fall late in the afternoon, and when dinner was over it had turned into a steady downpour which threatened to last well into the night. Dinner over, the three of us sought a secluded2 corner of the lounge-room, and settled ourselves for a protracted3 smoke.
We had been there less than a quarter of an hour when a slightly rotund man, with a heavy, florid face and thin gray hair, strolled up to us with a stealthy, self-assured gait, and wished Markham a jovial4 good evening. Though I had not met the newcomer I knew him to be Charles Cleaver5.
“Got your note at the desk saying you wanted to see me.” He spoke6 with a voice curiously7 gentle for a man of his size; but, for all its gentleness, there was in it a timbre8 of calculation and coldness.
Markham rose and, after shaking hands, introduced him to Vance and me—though, it seemed, Vance had known him slightly for some time. He took the chair Markham indicated, and, producing a Corona9 Corona, he carefully cut the end with a gold clipper attached to his heavy watch-chain, rolled the cigar between his lips to dampen it, and lighted it in closely cupped hands.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr. Cleaver,” began Markham, “but, as you probably have read, a young woman by the name of Margaret Odell was murdered last night in her apartment in 71st Street. . . .”
He paused. He seemed to be considering just how he could best broach10 a subject so obviously delicate; and perhaps he hoped that Cleaver would volunteer the fact of his acquaintance with the girl. But not a muscle of the man’s face moved; and, after a moment, Markham continued.
“In making inquiries11 into the young woman’s life I learned that you, among others, were fairly well acquainted with her.”
“The fact is,” went on Markham, a trifle annoyed by the other’s deliberately13 circumspect14 attitude, “my report states that you were seen with her on many occasions during a period of nearly two years. Indeed, the only inference to be drawn15 from what I’ve learned is that you were more than casually16 interested in Miss Odell.”
“Yes,” repeated Markham. “And I may add, Mr. Cleaver, that this is not the time for pretenses18 or suppressions. I am talking to you to-night, in large measure ex officio, because it occurred to me that you could give me some assistance in clearing the matter up. I think it only fair to say that a certain man is now under grave suspicion, and we hope to arrest him very soon. But, in any event, we will need help, and that is why I requested this little chat with you at the club.”
“And how can I assist you?” Cleaver’s face remained blank; only his lips moved as he put the question.
“Knowing this young woman as well as you did,” explained Markham patiently, “you are no doubt in possession of some information—certain facts or confidences, let us say—which would throw light on her brutal20, and apparently21 unexpected, murder.”
Cleaver was silent for some time. His eyes had shifted to the wall before him, but otherwise his features remained set.
“I’m afraid I can’t accommodate you,” he said at length.
“Your attitude is not quite what might be expected in one whose conscience is entirely22 clear,” returned Markham, with a show of resentment23.
The man turned a mildly inquisitive24 gaze upon the District Attorney.
“What has my knowing the girl to do with her being murdered? She didn’t confide19 in me who her murderer was to be. She didn’t even tell me that she knew any one who intended to strangle her. If she’d known, she most likely could have avoided being murdered.”
Vance was sitting close to me, a little removed from the others, and, leaning over, murmured in my ear sotto voce:
“Markham’s up against another lawyer—poor dear! . . . A crumplin’ situation.”
But however inauspiciously this interlocutory skirmish may have begun, it soon developed into a grim combat which ended in Cleaver’s complete surrender. Markham, despite his suavity25 and graciousness, was an unrelenting and resourceful antagonist26; and it was not long before he had forced from Cleaver some highly significant information.
In response to the man’s ironically evasive rejoinder, he turned quickly and leaned forward.
“You’re not on the witness-stand in your own defense27, Mr. Cleaver,” he said sharply, “however much you appear to regard yourself as eligible28 for that position.”
Cleaver glared back fixedly29 without replying; and Markham, his eyelids30 level, studied the man opposite, determined31 to decipher all he could from the other’s phlegmatic32 countenance33. But Cleaver was apparently just as determined that his vis-à-vis should decipher absolutely nothing; and the features that met Markham’s scrutiny34 were as arid35 as a desert. At length Markham sank back in his chair.
“It doesn’t matter particularly,” he remarked indifferently, “whether you discuss the matter or not here in the club to-night. If you prefer to be brought to my office in the morning by a sheriff with a subpœna, I’ll be only too glad to accommodate you.”
“That’s up to you,” Cleaver told him hostilely.
“And what’s printed in the newspapers about it will be up to the reporters,” rejoined Markham. “I’ll explain the situation to them and give them a verbatim report of the interview.”
“But I’ve nothing to tell you.” The other’s tone was suddenly conciliatory; the idea of publicity36 was evidently highly distasteful to him.
“So you informed me before,” said Markham coldly. “Therefore I wish you good evening.”
He turned to Vance and me with the air of a man who had terminated an unpleasant episode.
Cleaver, however, made no move to go. He smoked thoughtfully for a minute or two; then he gave a short, hard laugh which did not even disturb the contours of his face.
“Oh, hell!” he grumbled37, with forced good nature. “As you said, I’m not on the witness-stand. . . . What do you want to know?”
“I’ve told you the situation.” Markham’s voice betrayed a curious irritation38. “You know the sort of thing I want. How did this Odell girl live? Who were her intimates? Who would have been likely to want her out of the way? What enemies had she?—Anything that might lead us to an explanation of her death. . . . And incidentally,” he added with tartness39, “anything that’ll eliminate yourself from any suspected participation40, direct or indirect, in the affair.”
Cleaver stiffened41 at these last words, and started to protest indignantly. But immediately he changed his tactics. Smiling contemptuously, he took out a leather pocket-case and, extracting a small folded paper, handed it to Markham.
“I can eliminate myself easily enough,” he proclaimed, with easy confidence. “There’s a speeding summons from Boonton, New Jersey42. Note the date and the time: September the 10th—last night—at half past eleven. Was driving down to Hopatcong, and was ticketed by a motorcycle cop just as I had passed Boonton and was heading for Mountain Lakes. Got to appear in court there to-morrow morning. Damn nuisance, these country constables43.” He gave Markham a long, calculating look. “You couldn’t square it for me, could you? It’s a rotten ride to Jersey, and I’ve got a lot to do to-morrow.”
Markham, who had inspected the summons casually, put it in his pocket.
Cleaver puffed45 meditatively46 on his cigar. Then, leaning back and crossing his knees, he spoke with apparent candor47.
“I doubt if I know much that’ll help you. . . . I liked the Canary, as she was called—in fact, was pretty much attached to her at one time. Did a number of foolish things; wrote her a lot of damn-fool letters when I went to Cuba last year. Even had my picture taken with her down at Atlantic City.” He made a self-condemnatory grimace48. “Then she began to get cool and distant; broke several appointments with me. I raised the devil with her, but the only answer I got was a demand for money. . . .”
He stopped and looked down at his cigar ash. A venomous hatred49 gleamed from his narrowed eyes, and the muscles of his jowls hardened.
“No use lying about it. She had those letters and things, and she touched me for a neat little sum before I got ’em back. . . .”
“When was this?”
There was a momentary50 hesitation51. “Last June,” Cleaver replied. Then he hurried on: “Mr. Markham”—his voice was bitter—“I don’t want to throw mud on a dead person; but that woman was the shrewdest, coldest-blooded blackmailer52 it’s ever been my misfortune to meet. And I’ll say this, too: I wasn’t the only easy mark she squeezed. She had others on her string. . . . I happen to know she once dug into old Louey Mannix for a plenty—he told me about it.”
“Could you give me the names of any of these other men?” asked Markham, attempting to dissemble his eagerness. “I’ve already heard of the Mannix episode.”
“No, I couldn’t.” Cleaver spoke regretfully. “I’ve seen the Canary here and there with different men; and there’s one in particular I’ve noticed lately. But they were all strangers to me.”
“I suppose the Mannix affair is dead and buried by this time?”
“Yes—ancient history. You won’t get any line on the situation from that angle. But there are others—more recent than Mannix—who might bear looking into, if you could find them. I’m easy-going myself; take things as they come. But there’s a lot of men who’d go red-headed if she did the things to them that she did to me.”
Cleaver, despite his confession53, did not strike me as easy-going, but rather as a cold, self-contained, nerveless person whose immobility was at all times dictated54 by policy and expediency55.
Markham studied him closely.
“You think, then, her death may have been due to vengeance56 on the part of some disillusioned57 admirer?”
Cleaver carefully considered his answer.
“Seems reasonable,” he said finally. “She was riding for a fall.”
There was a short silence; then Markham asked:
“Do you happen to know of a young man she was interested in—good-looking, small, blond moustache, light blue eyes—named Skeel?”
Cleaver snorted derisively58.
“That wasn’t the Canary’s specialty—she let the young ones alone, as far as I know.”
At this moment a page-boy approached Cleaver, and bowed.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but there’s a phone call for your brother. Party said it was important and, as your brother isn’t in the club now, the operator thought you might know where he’d gone.”
“Your brother in the city?” asked Markham casually. “I met him years ago. He’s a San Franciscan, isn’t he?”
“Yes—rabid Californian. He’s visiting New York for a couple of weeks so he’ll appreciate Frisco more when he gets back.”
It seemed to me that this information was given reluctantly; and I got the impression that Cleaver, for some reason, was annoyed. But Markham, apparently, was too absorbed in the problem before him to take notice of the other’s disgruntled air, for he reverted60 at once to the subject of the murder.
“I happen to know one man who has been interested in the Odell woman recently; he may be the same one you’ve seen her with—tall, about forty-five, and wears a gray, close-cropped moustache.” (He was, I knew, describing Spotswoode.)
Markham was disappointed.
“Unfortunately, he’s checked off the list. . . . But there must be somebody who was in the girl’s confidence. You’re sure you couldn’t cudgel your brains to any advantage?”
Cleaver appeared to think.
“If it’s merely a question of some one who had her confidence,” he said, “I might suggest Doctor Lindquist—first name’s Ambroise, I think; and he lives somewhere in the Forties near Lexington Avenue. But I don’t know that he’d be of any value to you. Still, he was pretty close to her at one time.”
“You mean that this Doctor Lindquist might have been interested in her otherwise than professionally?”
“I wouldn’t like to say.” Cleaver smoked for a while as if inwardly debating the situation. “Anyway, here are the facts: Lindquist is one of these exclusive society specialists—a neurologist he calls himself—and I believe he’s the head of a private sanitarium of some kind for nervous women. He must have money, and, of course, his social standing62 is a vital asset to him—just the sort of man the Canary might have selected as a source of income. And I know this: he came to see her a good deal oftener than a doctor of his type would be apt to. I ran into him one night at her apartment, and when she introduced us, he wasn’t even civil.”
“It will at least bear looking into,” replied Markham unenthusiastically. “You’ve no one else in mind who might know something helpful?”
Cleaver shook his head.
“No—no one.”
“And she never mentioned anything to you that indicated she was in fear of any one, or anticipated trouble?”
“Not a word. Fact is, I was bowled over by the news. I never read any paper but the morning Herald—except, of course, The Daily Racing63 Form at night. And as there was no account of the murder in this morning’s paper, I didn’t hear about it until just before dinner. The boys in the billiard-room were talking about it, and I went out and looked at an afternoon paper. If it hadn’t been for that, I might not have known of it till to-morrow morning.”
Markham discussed the case with him until half past eight, but could elicit64 no further suggestions. Finally Cleaver rose to go.
“Sorry I couldn’t give you more help,” he said. His rubicund65 face was beaming now, and he shook hands with Markham in the friendliest fashion.
“You wangled that viscid old sport rather cleverly, don’t y’ know,” remarked Vance, when Cleaver had gone. “But there’s something deuced queer about him. The transition from his gambler’s glassy stare to his garrulous66 confidences was too sudden—suspiciously sudden, in fact. I may be evil-minded, but he didn’t impress me as a luminous67 pillar of truth. Maybe it’s because I don’t like those cold, boiled eyes of his—somehow they didn’t harmonize with his gushing68 imitation of open-hearted frankness.”
“We can allow him something for his embarrassing position,” suggested Markham charitably. “It isn’t exactly pleasant to admit having been taken in and blackmailed69 by a charmer.”
“Still, if he got his letters back in June, why did he continue paying court to the lady? Heath reported he was active in that sector70 right up to the end.”
“He may be the complete amorist,” smiled Markham.
“Some like Abra, what?——
‘Abra was ready ere I call’d her name;
And, though I call’d another, Abra came.’
Maybe—yes. He might qualify as a modern Cayley Drummle.”
“At any rate, he gave us, in Doctor Lindquist, a possible source of information.”
“Quite so,” agreed Vance. “And that’s about the only point of his whole passionate71 unfoldment that I particularly put any stock in, because it was the only point he indicated with any decent reticence72. . . . My advice is that you interview this Æsculapius of the fair sex without further delay.”
“I’m dog-tired,” objected Markham. “Let it wait till to-morrow.”
Vance glanced at the great clock over the stone mantel.
“It’s latish, I’ll admit, but why not, as Pittacus advised, seize time by the forelock?
‘Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find:
Occasion once past by, is bald behind.’
But the elder Cato anticipated Cowley. In his ‘Disticha de Moribus’ he wrote: Fronte capillata——”
“Come!” pleaded Markham, rising. “Anything to dam this flow of erudition.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bulwark
|
|
| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
secluded
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
protracted
|
|
| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
jovial
|
|
| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
cleaver
|
|
| n.切肉刀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
timbre
|
|
| n.音色，音质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
corona
|
|
| n.日冕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
broach
|
|
| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
circumspect
|
|
| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
query
|
|
| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
pretenses
|
|
| n.借口（pretense的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
confide
|
|
| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
suavity
|
|
| n.温和；殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
antagonist
|
|
| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
defense
|
|
| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
eligible
|
|
| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
phlegmatic
|
|
| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
scrutiny
|
|
| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
tartness
|
|
| n.酸，锋利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
participation
|
|
| n.参与，参加，分享 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
jersey
|
|
| n.运动衫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
constables
|
|
| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
puffed
|
|
| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
meditatively
|
|
| adv.冥想地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
candor
|
|
| n.坦白，率真 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
grimace
|
|
| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
blackmailer
|
|
| 敲诈者，勒索者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
expediency
|
|
| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
disillusioned
|
|
| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
derisively
|
|
| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
fumed
|
|
| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
reverted
|
|
| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
averred
|
|
| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
elicit
|
|
| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
rubicund
|
|
| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
garrulous
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
gushing
|
|
| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
blackmailed
|
|
| 胁迫，尤指以透露他人不体面行为相威胁以勒索钱财( blackmail的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
sector
|
|
| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
reticence
|
|
| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |