Foreword
Foreword
Hercule Poirot’s flat was essentially modern in its furnishings. It gleamed with chromium. Its easychairs, though comfortably padded, were square and uncompromising in outline.
On one of these chairs sat Hercule Poirot, neatly—in the middle of the chair. Opposite him,in another chair, sat Dr.?Burton, Fellow of All Souls, sipping appreciatively at a glass of Poirot’sCh?teau Mouton Rothschild. There was no neatness about Dr.?Burton. He was plump, untidy, andbeneath his thatch of white hair beamed a rubicund and benign countenance. He had a deepwheezy chuckle and the habit of covering himself and everything round him with tobacco ash. Invain did Poirot surround him with ashtrays.
Dr.?Burton was asking a question.
“Tell me,” he said. “Why Hercule?”
“You mean, my Christian name?”
“Hardly a Christian name,” the other demurred. “Definitely pagan. But why? That’s what Iwant to know. Father’s fancy? Mother’s whim? Family reasons? If I remember rightly—thoughmy memory isn’t what it was—you had a brother called Achille, did you not?”
Poirot’s mind raced back over the details of Achille Poirot’s career. Had all that reallyhappened?
“Only for a short space of time,” he replied.
Dr.?Burton passed tactfully from the subject of Achille Poirot.
“People should be more careful how they name their children,” he ruminated. “I’ve gotgodchildren. I know. Blanche, one of ’em is called—dark as a gypsy! Then there’s Deirdre,Deirdre of the Sorrows—she’s turned out merry as a grig. As for young Patience, she might aswell have been named Impatience and be done with it! And Diana—well, Diana—” the oldclassical scholar shuddered. “Weighs twelve stone now—and she’s only fifteen! They say it’spuppy fat—but it doesn’t look that way to me. Diana! They wanted to call her Helen, but I did putmy foot down there. Knowing what her father and mother looked like! And her grandmother forthat matter! I tried hard for Martha or Dorcas or something sensible—but it was no good—wasteof breath. Rum people, parents. .?.?.”
He began to wheeze gently—his small fat face crinkled up.
Poirot looked at him inquiringly.
“Thinking of an imaginary conversation. Your mother and the late Mrs.?Holmes, sittingsewing little garments or knitting: ‘Achille, Hercule, Sherlock, Mycroft. .?.?.’ ”
Poirot failed to share his friend’s amusement.
“What I understand you to mean is, that in physical appearance I do not resemble aHercules?”
Dr.?Burton’s eyes swept over Hercule Poirot, over his small neat person attired in stripedtrousers, correct black jacket and natty bow tie, swept up from his patent leather shoes to his egg-shaped head and the immense moustache that adorned his upper lip.
“Frankly, Poirot,” said Dr.?Burton, “you don’t! I gather,” he added, “that you’ve never hadmuch time to study the Classics?”
“That is so.”
“Pity. Pity. You’ve missed a lot. Everyone should be made to study the Classics if I had myway.”
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“Eh bien, I have got on very well without them.”
“Got on! Got on! It’s not a question of getting on. That’s the wrong view altogether. TheClassics aren’t a ladder leading to quick success like a modern correspondence course! It’s not aman’s working hours that are important—it’s his leisure hours. That’s the mistake we all make.
Take yourself now, you’re getting on, you’ll be wanting to get out of things, to take things easy—what are you going to do then with your leisure hours?”
Poirot was ready with his reply.
“I am going to attend—seriously—to the cultivation of vegetable marrows.”
Dr.?Burton was taken aback.
“Vegetable marrows? What d’yer mean? Those great swollen green things that taste ofwater?”
“Ah,” Poirot spoke enthusiastically. “But that is the whole point of it. They need not taste ofwater.”
“Oh! I know—sprinkle ’em with cheese, or minced onion or white sauce.”
“No, no—you are in error. It is my idea that the actual flavour of the marrow itself can beimproved. It can be given,” he screwed up his eyes, “a bouquet—”
“Good God, man, it’s not a claret.” The word bouquet reminded Dr.?Burton of the glass at hiselbow. He sipped and savoured. “Very good wine, this. Very sound. Yes.” His head nodded inapprobation. “But this vegetable marrow business—you’re not serious? You don’t mean”—hespoke in lively horror—“that you’re actually going to stoop”—his hands descended in sympathetichorror on his own plump stomach—“stoop, and fork dung on the things, and feed ’em with strandsof wool dipped in water and all the rest of it?”
“You seem,” Poirot said, “to be well acquainted with the culture of the marrow?”
“Seen gardeners doing it when I’ve been staying in the country. But seriously, Poirot, what ahobby! Compare that to”—his voice sank to an appreciative purr—“an easy chair in front of awood fire in a long, low room lined with books—must be a long room—not a square one. Booksall round one. A glass of port—and a book open in your hand. Time rolls back as you read:” hequoted sonorously:
He translated:
“ ‘By skill again, the pilot on the wine-dark sea straightensThe swift ship buffeted by the winds.’
Of course you can never really get the spirit of the original.”
For the moment, in his enthusiasm, he had forgotten Poirot. And Poirot, watching him, feltsuddenly a doubt—an uncomfortable twinge. Was there, here, something that he had missed?
Some richness of the spirit? Sadness crept over him. Yes, he should have become acquainted withthe Classics .?.?. Long ago .?.?. Now, alas, it was too late. .?.?.
Dr.?Burton interrupted his melancholy.
“Do you mean that you really are thinking of retiring?”
“Yes.”
The other chuckled.
“You won’t!”
“But I assure you—”
“You won’t be able to do it, man. You’re too interested in your work.”
“No—indeed—I make all the arrangements. A few more cases—specially selected ones—not, you understand, everything that presents itself—just problems that have a personal appeal.”
Dr.?Burton grinned.
“That’s the way of it. Just a case or two, just one case more—and so on. The Prima Donna’sfarewell performance won’t be in it with yours, Poirot!”
He chuckled and rose slowly to his feet, an amiable white-haired gnome.
“Yours aren’t the Labors of Hercules,” he said. “Yours are labors of love. You’ll see if I’mnot right. Bet you that in twelve months’ time you’ll still be here, and vegetable marrows will stillbe”—he shuddered—“merely marrows.”
Taking leave of his host, Dr.?Burton left the severe rectangular room.
He passes out of these pages not to return to them. We are concerned only with what he leftbehind him, which was an Idea.
For after his departure Hercule Poirot sat down again slowly like a man in a dream andmurmured:
“The Labors of Hercules .?.?. Mais oui, c’est une idée, ?a. .?.?.”
? ??? ???
The following day saw Hercule Poirot perusing a large calf-bound volume and other slimmerworks, with occasional harried glances at various typewritten slips of paper.
His secretary, Miss?Lemon, had been detailed to collect information on the subject ofHercules and to place same before him.
Without interest (hers not the type to wonder why!) but with perfect efficiency, Miss?Lemonhad fulfilled her task.
Hercule Poirot was plunged head first into a bewildering sea of classical lore with particularreference to “Hercules, a celebrated hero who, after death, was ranked among the gods, andreceived divine honours.”
So far, so good—but thereafter it was far from plain sailing. For two hours Poirot readdiligently, making notes, frowning, consulting his slips of paper and his other books of reference.
Finally he sank back in his chair and shook his head. His mood of the previous evening wasdispelled. What people!
Take this Hercules—this hero! Hero, indeed! What was he but a large muscular creature oflow intelligence and criminal tendencies! Poirot was reminded of one Adolfe Durand, a butcher,who had been tried at Lyon in 1895—a creature of oxlike strength who had killed several children.
The defence had been epilepsy—from which he undoubtedly suffered—though whether grand malor petit mal had been an argument of several days’ discussion. This ancient Hercules probablysuffered from grand mal. No, Poirot shook his head, if that was the Greeks’ idea of a hero, thenmeasured by modern standards it certainly would not do. The whole classical pattern shocked him.
These gods and goddesses—they seemed to have as many different aliases as a modern criminal.
Indeed they seemed to be definitely criminal types. Drink, debauchery, incest, rape, loot, homicideand chicanery—enough to keep a juge d’Instruction constantly busy. No decent family life. Noorder, no method. Even in their crimes, no order or method!
“Hercules indeed!” said Hercule Poirot, rising to his feet, disillusioned.
He looked round him with approval. A square room, with good square modern furniture—even a piece of good modern sculpture representing one cube placed on another cube and above ita geometrical arrangement of copper wire. And in the midst of this shining and orderly room,himself. He looked at himself in the glass. Here, then, was a modern Hercules—very distinct fromthat unpleasant sketch of a naked figure with bulging muscles, brandishing a club. Instead, a smallcompact figure attired in correct urban wear with a moustache—such a moustache as Herculesnever dreamed of cultivating—a moustache magnificent yet sophisticated.
Yet there was between this Hercule Poirot and the Hercules of Classical lore one point ofresemblance. Both of them, undoubtedly, had been instrumental in ridding the world of certainpests . . . Each of them could be described as a benefactor to the Society he lived in. .?.?.
What had Dr.?Burton said last night as he left: “Yours are not the Labors of Hercules. .?.?.”
Ah, but there he was wrong, the old fossil. There should be, once again, the Labors ofHercules—a modern Hercules. An ingenious and amusing conceit! In the period before his finalretirement he would accept twelve cases, no more, no less. And those twelve cases should beselected with special reference to the twelve Labors of ancient Hercules. Yes, that would not onlybe amusing, it would be artistic, it would be spiritual.
Poirot picked up the Classical Dictionary and immersed himself once more in Classical lore.
He did not intend to follow his prototype too closely. There should be no women, no shirt ofNessus . . . The Labors and the Labors only.
The first Labor, then, would be that of the Nemean Lion.
“The Nemean Lion,” he repeated, trying it over on his tongue.
Naturally he did not expect a case to present itself actually involving a flesh and blood lion. Itwould be too much of a coincidence should he be approached by the Directors of the ZoologicalGardens to solve a problem for them involving a real lion.
No, here symbolism must be involved. The first case must concern some celebrated publicfigure, it must be sensational and of the first importance! Some master criminal—or alternatelysomeone who was a lion in the public eye. Some well-known writer, or politician, or painter—oreven Royalty?
He liked the idea of Royalty. .?.?.
He would not be in a hurry. He would wait—wait for that case of high importance that shouldbe the first of his self-imposed Labors.
序幕
序幕
赫尔克里•波洛的公寓装潢完全是现代风格的，四处闪耀着金属的光芒。房间里的安乐椅尽管铺着舒适的垫子，外形轮廓却都是方方正正的，一丝不苟。
其中一把椅子上坐着赫尔克里•波洛——他把自己收拾得干净利落，端坐在椅子的正中间。对面的椅子上坐着万灵学院院士伯顿博士，正在细细品尝着波洛奉上的一杯木桐酒庄[1] 的葡萄酒。伯顿博士可毫无干净利落可言。他身材臃肿，衣着邋遢，一头乱蓬蓬的白发下面有一张红润而慈祥的笑脸。他笑起来呼哧带响，对身上和身旁撒落的烟灰习以为常。
尽管波洛在他周围摆满了烟灰缸，却都是徒劳。
伯顿博士正在问问题。
“告诉我，”他说，“你为什么要叫赫尔克里？”
“您是指我的教名吗？”
“那可真不能说是个教名，”对方反驳道，“明明是个异教徒的名字 [2] 。可为什么要取这么一个名字呢？我就是想知道这一点。是令尊的突发奇想？还是令堂的灵机一动？或者是家族传统？我的记性不如以前了，如果我没记错的话，你曾经有个叫阿基里 [3] 的兄弟，对不对？”
波洛的脑海中闪过了传说中的阿基里•波洛的一生 [4] 。那件事确实真实发生过吗？
“阿基里•波洛，只存在了很短的一段时间。”他回答道。
伯顿博士巧妙地把话题从阿基里•波洛转移到了别处。
“人们给孩子取名的时候应当多费点心思，”他思忖着说，“我有一群教子教女。其中有一个叫布兰雪的，却黑得像个吉卜赛人 [5] ！还有一个叫迪尔德丽的，‘忧伤的迪尔德丽’——可她却快活得像一只蟋蟀。 [6] 至于小佩兴丝，当初真应该取名叫英佩兴丝 [7] ，那才名副其实！还有戴安娜……噢，戴安娜……”精通古典文学的老学者不禁打了个寒战。“现在就已经十二石重了 [8] ……她才十五岁啊！居然有人说这是婴儿肥，我可不那么认为。‘戴安娜’！他们本来还想给她取名叫海伦 [9] 的，可我表示坚决反对。我知道她父母长什么样！
还有她奶奶那副样子！我努力要给她取个诸如玛莎或是朵尔卡丝之类的更靠谱点的名字……但是没用……白费口舌。这些当父母的都是一群不可理喻的怪人……”
他忽然发出一阵低沉的笑声——那张胖胖的小脸都笑得皱了起来。
波洛向他投去探询的目光。
“想象一下这样一个场景：令堂和传说中的那位福尔摩斯太太 [10] 坐在一起，边缝着小衣服、织着小毛衣，边念叨着‘阿基里、赫尔克里、歇洛克、迈克罗夫特……’”
波洛无法欣赏他朋友的这种幽默感。
“我想您的意思是不是说，就外表而言，我一点也不像英雄赫拉克勒斯？”
伯顿博士把赫尔克里•波洛上下打量了一番，打量着眼前这个穿着条纹长裤和合身的黑色夹克、打着精巧时髦的领结、收拾得干净利落的小个子。从波洛那双锃亮的黑漆皮鞋向上，一直望到他那蛋形的脑袋和点缀在嘴唇上方的特大号唇髭。
“坦率地说，波洛，”伯顿博士说，“你一点儿也不像！我估计，”他又加了一句，“你没怎么花过时间研究古典文学吧？”
“的确如此。”
“太可惜了！太可惜了！你错失了多少宝贵的财富啊！依我之见，人人都应该读点古典文学！”
波洛耸了耸肩。
“不过 [11] ，可我不懂古典文学日子照样过得不错啊。”
“过日子！过日子！这根本就不是过日子的问题。这个观点从根本上就错了！古典文学不是现代函授课程——通往成功的快速阶梯那种东西！它与你的工作和事业关系不大，而与你的闲暇生活关系密切。我们经常搞错的就是这一点。就拿你来说吧，你日子过得不错，如果想从日常事务中解脱出来，想活得轻松自在些——你会在业余时间干些什么呢？”
波洛对此早有计划。
“我打算——我是认真的——专心栽培西葫芦。”
伯顿博士大吃一惊。
“西葫芦？你指的是什么？就是那种绿乎乎、圆滚滚、块头挺大、吃起来淡而无味的玩意儿吗？”
“哈，”波洛兴奋地说，“关键就是这一点。要让它们吃起来不再淡而无味。”
“哦！我知道怎么办，撒上点奶酪末或是洋葱碎，淋上点白酱汁也行。”
“不，不，您理解错了。我打算改良西葫芦本身的口味。让它具有，”波洛眯起了眼睛，“酒香味。”
“老天！伙计，那又不是葡萄。”说起酒香味，倒使伯顿博士想起了搁在手边的那杯酒。他慢慢地啜饮品鉴。“真是好酒。醇香四溢。好极了。”他赞赏有加地点了点头。“不过西葫芦的事……你不是当真的吧？你不会打算……”他用略带嫌恶的口吻说道，“你真打算亲自上阵，”他把手叠放在臃肿的肚皮上，带着怜悯和嫌恶之情继续说道，“弯腰塌背、铲粪施肥、浇灌洒水，以及所有那一套吗？”
“看来，”波洛说道，“您对栽培西葫芦还挺在行的……”
“我在乡下住的时候看园丁那么干过。不过说真的，这算什么业余爱好啊！跟这个相比……”他的声音里忽然充满了赞赏和满足之情，“在一间摆满了书的低矮幽长的房间里——必须是间幽长的房间，不能是正方形的——燃起木柴，坐在炉火前的一张安乐椅上。
周围皆被书海环绕，斟一杯波特酒，手捧一册打开的书卷。读着书，时光都能随之倒流了。”接着，他声音洪亮地吟诵起来。
念完他又翻译道：“‘舵手在漆黑的大海上再次靠技能拨正那艘被狂风冲击的轻舟。’当然，翻译过来就体现不出原文的神韵了。”
此刻，沉浸于自我陶醉之中他忘掉了波洛。波洛静静地看着他，突然感到一阵疑惑——一阵刺痛。自己是不是真的错失了什么呢？某些宝贵的精神财富？一阵惆怅涌上心头。没错，自己该多了解一些古典文学的……早该如此……可现在，唉，太晚啦……伯顿博士打断了他惆怅的思绪。
“你真的打算隐退吗？”
“是的。”
对方咯咯地笑起来。
“你不会的！”
“可我向您保证——”
“你办不到的，伙计。你对你这份工作太感兴趣了。”
“不，实际上——我已经安排好了。再接几个案子，几个精挑细选的案子。明白吗，不是随便一件送上门来的案子，只接那些对我有吸引力的！”
伯顿博士咧嘴一笑。
“还是那一套。只接一两起案子，只再接一起……如此再三。你绝对不会像首席女歌唱家举行告别演出那样就此告别舞台的，波洛！”
博士咯咯地笑了笑，慢慢地站起来，像个和蔼可亲的白发精灵。
“你要做的和赫拉克勒斯不一样，不是那些苦差事。”他说，“你做的是你喜欢的、心甘情愿去做的。你等着瞧我说得对不对。我敢打赌，再过十二个月你还在这儿待着，而西葫芦也仍然是……”他顿了一下，“老样子。”
向主人道别后，伯顿博士离开了规规矩矩、四四方方的房间。
伯顿博士从此就从故事里消失而且不会再出现了。我们需要关心的只是他此次到访留下来的东西——一个想法。
因为他走后，赫尔克里•波洛就像个梦中人那样慢慢坐了下来，喃喃自语道：“赫拉克勒斯的苦差事……没错，这倒是个好主意，这……”
第二天，赫尔克里•波洛便忙于研读一本小牛皮封面的大部头和一些薄一点的著作，时不时地匆匆瞥一眼一堆打了字的小纸条。
他吩咐秘书莱蒙小姐把一切与赫拉克勒斯有关的资料搜集起来给他。
尽管对此毫无兴趣（她不是那种爱打听“为什么”的人），莱蒙小姐依然以惊人的效率出色地完成了这项任务。
赫尔克里•波洛一头扎进了有关赫拉克勒斯——“一位著名的英雄，死后进入众神行列、享有神圣的荣耀”——那令人眼花缭乱的古代传说的汪洋大海之中。
开始一切都还顺利，但很快情况就不那么一帆风顺了。足足两小时，波洛专心致志地读书、记笔记，不时皱着眉头翻阅那些小纸条和参考书。最后他仰靠在椅子上，摇了摇头。前一天晚上的兴致已荡然无存。这是个什么人啊！
说说这位赫拉克勒斯吧——一位英雄！确实是位英雄！然而也不过就是个肌肉发达、智力低下，还有犯罪倾向的大块头！波洛不禁想起了一八九五年在里昂受审的叫阿道夫•杜朗的屠夫——一个杀害了好几个孩子，像公牛一样健壮有力的家伙。当时的辩护理由是他患有癫痫病——这一点倒是没有疑问——不过关于他究竟是癫痫大发作还是小发作的问题争论了好几天。古时候这位赫拉克勒斯多半得的是癫痫大发作。不，波洛摇了摇头，这是古希腊人心目中的英雄，就不能按照现代的标准来衡量。古典文学中的行事方式令他感到震惊。那些男女神祇似乎都跟现代的罪犯一样，有许多不同的化名。实际上，他们也绝对可以归属为各种不同的罪犯。酗酒、放荡、乱伦、强奸、抢劫、杀人、欺诈……足以让预审法官忙得没有一丝空闲。他们没有体面正派的家庭生活，没有秩序，没有条理，甚至在他们的犯罪行为当中也没有秩序和条理！
“好个赫拉克勒斯！”赫尔克里•波洛说着，垂头丧气地站了起来。
他环视房间，感觉相当满意。一个方方正正的房间，陈设着方方正正的现代家具——有一件精美的现代雕塑作品，是一个立方体立在另一个立方体上面，顶端是由一根铜线绕成的规则的几何图形。而他本人，就在这间明亮而整洁的房间的正中央。他打量着镜子里的自己：这是一位现代的赫拉克勒斯——外形跟那个一身肌肉、挥舞着棍棒，赤身裸体、不讨人喜欢的家伙截然不同。他矮小精干，像个都市居民应有的样子，穿戴得体，还蓄着漂亮的唇髭——赫拉克勒斯做梦也不会想到要蓄起的唇髭——一副壮丽而精美的唇髭。
然而，赫尔克里•波洛和那个神话传说中的赫拉克勒斯之间还是有一点相似之处的，他们两位毫无疑问都一直在清除世上的害群之马……他们俩都可以说是他们所生活的这个社会的恩人……
昨晚伯顿博士临走时怎么说的来着？“你要做的和赫拉克勒斯不一样，不是那些苦差事……”
哈，这他可说错了，这个老化石。赫拉克勒斯的伟业应当重现一次——由一位现代的赫拉克勒斯完成。这真是一种巧妙而有趣的自负！隐退之前，他将再接办十二桩案子，不多也不少。这十二桩案件必须精心挑选，以便与古代那位赫拉克勒斯的十二桩功业有所关联。 [12] 没错，这不仅会很有趣，还富有艺术性乃至宗教意义！
波洛拿起那部《经典辞书》，再次沉浸在古老传说中。他不打算过分效仿那位原型人物。不需要有女人，不需要有涅索斯的衬衫 [13] ……只要那些丰功伟绩就可以了。
那么，第一桩大事就是涅墨亚狮子。
“涅墨亚狮子。”他一板一眼地念了几遍。
当然他并不指望会有一桩涉及一头有血有肉的真狮子的案件送上门来。要是真有动物园负责人找他侦破一桩跟一头狮子有关的案件，那未免也太巧合了。
不，应当是象征意义上的。第一桩案件应该涉及某位声名显赫的公众人物，要极具轰动性，其重要性不言而喻！也许是某个手段高明的罪犯——或者是被公众视为狮子一样的人物。某位有名的作家、政治家、画家——或许是位皇室成员？
他喜欢皇室成员这个想法……
不必着急，他会等待，等待一桩极其重要的案件成为他甘愿承担的第一项艰苦的任务。
* 爱德蒙•考克是阿加莎•克里斯蒂的经纪人。早年间是他帮助阿加莎找到了新的合作公司柯林斯出版社。他举止得体，为人诚实，深受作者欣赏，与其做了四十多年的好友。
[1]木桐酒庄（Ch?teau Mouton Rothschild）为法国五大名庄之一。
[2]“教 名”的 英 文 是“Christian name”， 字 面 意 思 是“基 督 徒 的 名 字”， 而 波 洛 的 教 名 赫 尔 克 里（Hercule）和希腊神话中的赫拉克勒斯（Hercules）仅仅相差一个字母。后者显然不是基督徒，而是毫无疑问的“异教徒”，因此在严谨的学者伯顿博士看来，由此衍生出的“赫尔克里”不是个合格的“教名”。
[3]与波洛一样，阿基里（Achille）与特洛伊战争中的半神英雄阿喀琉斯（Achilles）只差一个字母。
[4]这段故事发生在《四魔头》（新星出版社，2017）一书中。
[5]布兰雪原文Blanche，有“白色”之意。
[6]迪尔德丽是爱尔兰传说中的一位身世悲惨的女子；《忧伤的迪尔德丽》（Deirdre of theSorrows ）是爱尔兰剧作家J.M. 辛格根据这段传说创作的三幕悲剧。
[7]佩兴丝原文为patience，有耐心的意思。英佩兴丝是impatience，没耐心的意思。
[8]戴安娜是罗马神话中的月亮女神和狩猎女神。十二石约为七十六点二公斤。
[9]海伦是希腊神话中人间最美的女人，特洛伊王子帕里斯在美神的协助下将其劫走，因此引发著名的特洛伊战争。
[10]当然是指柯南•道尔笔下的著名侦探歇洛克•福尔摩斯及其哥哥迈克罗夫特•福尔摩斯的母亲。此处属伯顿博士的玩笑虚构。
[11]原文为法语。原文多处使用法语，本书以仿宋表示。
[12]赫拉克勒斯的十二功业出自希腊神话，被妻子逼疯的赫拉克勒斯失手杀死了自己的孩子，为了赎罪，他接受了敌人欧律斯透斯（Eurystheus）提出的十项任务。如果成功，他的罪孽就将被净化，并获得不朽。但完成后欧律斯透斯不承认其中两项，因此赫拉克勒斯又不得不再完成两项附加任务。此十二项任务便被称为“赫拉克勒斯的十二功业”。
[13]涅索斯（N e s s u s s）是希腊神话中渡旅客过冥河的半人半马的怪物，因调戏赫拉克勒斯的妻子，被赫拉克勒斯用毒箭射死。它临死前欺骗赫拉克勒斯的妻子，将自己的血染在给赫拉克勒斯穿的内衣上。后来赫拉克勒斯因沾上衣服上残余的箭毒而身亡。
1.THE NEMEAN LION（1）
One
THE NEMEAN LION
“Anything of interest this morning, Miss Lemon?” he asked as he entered the room the followingmorning.
He trusted Miss?Lemon. She was a woman without imagination, but she had an instinct.
Anything that she mentioned as worth consideration usually was worth consideration. She was aborn secretary.
“Nothing much, M. Poirot. There is just one letter that I thought might interest you. I haveput it on the top of the pile.”
“And what is that?” He took an interested step forward.
“It’s from a man who wants you to investigate the disappearance of his wife’s Pekinese dog.”
Poirot paused with his foot still in the air. He threw a glance of deep reproach at Miss?Lemon.
She did not notice it. She had begun to type. She typed with the speed and precision of a quick-firing tank.
Poirot was shaken; shaken and embittered. Miss?Lemon, the efficient Miss?Lemon, had lethim down! A Pekinese dog. A Pekinese dog! And after the dream he had had last night. He hadbeen leaving Buckingham Palace after being personally thanked when his valet had come in withhis morning chocolate!
Words trembled on his lips—witty caustic words. He did not utter them because Miss?Lemon,owing to the speed and efficiency of her typing, would not have heard them.
With a grunt of disgust he picked up the topmost letter from the little pile on the side of hisdesk.
Yes, it was exactly as Miss?Lemon had said. A city address—a curt businesslike unrefineddemand. The subject—the kidnapping of a Pekinese dog. One of those bulging-eyed,overpampered pets of a rich woman. Hercule Poirot’s lip curled as he read it.
Nothing unusual about this. Nothing out of the way or—But yes, yes, in one small detail,Miss?Lemon was right. In one small detail there was something unusual.
Hercule Poirot sat down. He read the letter slowly and carefully. It was not the kind of casehe wanted, it was not the kind of case he had promised himself. It was not in any sense animportant case, it was supremely unimportant. It was not—and here was the crux of his objection—it was not a proper Labor of Hercules.
But unfortunately he was curious. .?.?.
Yes, he was curious. .?.?.
He raised his voice so as to be heard by Miss?Lemon above the noise of her typing.
“Ring up this Sir Joseph Hoggin,” he ordered, “and make an appointment for me to see himat his office as he suggests.”
As usual, Miss?Lemon had been right.
? ??? ???
“I’m a plain man, Mr.?Poirot,” said Sir Joseph Hoggin.
Hercule Poirot made a noncommittal gesture with his right hand. It expressed (if you chose totake it so) admiration for the solid worth of Sir Joseph’s career and an appreciation of his modestyin so describing himself. It could also have conveyed a graceful deprecation of the statement. Inany case it gave no clue to the thought then uppermost in Hercule Poirot’s mind, which was thatSir Joseph certainly was (using the term in its more colloquial sense) a very plain man indeed.
Hercule Poirot’s eyes rested critically on the swelling jowl, the small pig eyes, the bulbous noseand the close-lipped mouth. The whole general effect reminded him of someone or something—but for the moment he could not recollect who or what it was. A memory stirred dimly. A longtime ago .?.?. in Belgium .?.?. something, surely, to do with soap. .?.?.
Sir Joseph was continuing.
“No frills about me. I don’t beat about the bush. Most people, Mr.?Poirot, would let thisbusiness go. Write it off as a bad debt and forget about it. But that’s not Joseph Hoggin’s way. I’ma rich man—and in a manner of speaking two hundred pounds is neither here nor there to me—”
Poirot interpolated swiftly:
“I congratulate you.”
“Eh?”
Sir Joseph paused a minute. His small eyes narrowed themselves still more. He said sharply:
“That’s not to say that I’m in the habit of throwing my money about. What I want I pay for.
But I pay the market price—no more.”
Hercule Poirot said:
“You realize that my fees are high?”
“Yes, yes. But this,” Sir Joseph looked at him cunningly, “is a very small matter.”
Hercule Poirot shrugged his shoulders. He said:
“I do not bargain. I am an expert. For the services of an expert you have to pay.”
Sir Joseph said frankly:
“I know you’re a tip-top man at this sort of thing. I made inquiries and I was told that youwere the best man available. I mean to get to the bottom of this business and I don’t grudge theexpense. That’s why I got you to come here.”
“You were fortunate,” said Hercule Poirot.
Sir Joseph said “Eh?” again.
“Exceedingly fortunate,” said Hercule Poirot firmly. “I am, I may say so without unduemodesty, at the apex of my career. Very shortly I intend to retire—to live in the country, to traveloccasionally to see the world—also, it may be, to cultivate my garden—with particular attention toimproving the strain of vegetable marrows. Magnificent vegetables—but they lack flavour. That,however, is not the point. I wished merely to explain that before retiring I had imposed uponmyself a certain task. I have decided to accept twelve cases—no more, no less. A self-imposed‘Labors of Hercules’ if I may so describe it. Your case, Sir Joseph, is the first of the twelve. I wasattracted to it,” he sighed, “by its striking unimportance.”
“Importance?” said Sir Joseph.
“Unimportance was what I said. I have been called in for varying causes—to investigatemurders, unexplained deaths, robberies, thefts of jewellery. This is the first time that I have beenasked to turn my talents to elucidate the kidnapping of a Pekinese dog.”
Sir Joseph grunted. He said:
“You surprise me! I should have said you’d have had no end of women pestering you abouttheir pet dogs.”
“That, certainly. But it is the first time that I am summoned by the husband in the case.”
Sir Joseph’s little eyes narrowed appreciatively.
He said:
“I begin to see why they recommended you to me. You’re a shrewd fellow, Mr.?Poirot.”
Poirot murmured:
“If you will now tell me the facts of the case. The dog disappeared, when?”
“Exactly a week ago.”
“And your wife is by now quite frantic, I presume?”
Sir Joseph stared. He said:
“You don’t understand. The dog has been returned.”
“Returned? Then, permit me to ask, where do I enter the matter?”
Sir Joseph went crimson in the face.
“Because I’m damned if I’ll be swindled! Now then, Mr.?Poirot, I’m going to tell you thewhole thing. The dog was stolen a week ago—nipped in Kensington Gardens where he was outwith my wife’s companion. The next day my wife got a demand for two hundred pounds. I askyou—two hundred pounds! For a damned yapping little brute that’s always getting under your feetanyway!”
Poirot murmured:
“You did not approve of paying such a sum, naturally?”
“Of course I didn’t—or wouldn’t have if I’d known anything about it! Milly (my wife) knewthat well enough. She didn’t say anything to me. Just sent off the money—in one pound notes asstipulated—to the address given.”
“And the dog was returned?”
“Yes. That evening the bell rang and there was the little brute sitting on the doorstep. And nota soul to be seen.”
“Perfectly. Continue.”
“Then, of course, Milly confessed what she’d done and I lost my temper a bit. However, Icalmed down after a while—after all, the thing was done and you can’t expect a woman to behavewith any sense—and I daresay I should have let the whole thing go if it hadn’t been for meetingold Samuelson at the Club.”
“Yes?”
“Damn it all, this thing must be a positive racket! Exactly the same thing had happened tohim. Three hundred pounds they’d rooked his wife of! Well, that was a bit too much. I decided thething had got to be stopped. I sent for you.”
“But surely, Sir Joseph, the proper thing (and a very much more inexpensive thing) wouldhave been to send for the police?”
Sir Joseph rubbed his nose.
He said:
“Are you married, Mr.?Poirot?”
“Alas,” said Poirot, “I have not that felicity.”
“H’m,” said Sir Joseph. “Don’t know about felicity, but if you were, you’d know that womenare funny creatures. My wife went into hysterics at the mere mention of the police—she’d got itinto her head that something would happen to her precious Shan Tung if I went to them. Shewouldn’t hear of the idea—and I may say she doesn’t take very kindly to the idea of your beingcalled in. But I stood firm there and at last she gave way. But, mind you, she doesn’t like it.”
Hercule Poirot murmured:
“The position is, I perceive, a delicate one. It would be as well, perhaps, if I were to interviewMadame your wife and gain further particulars from her whilst at the same time reassuring her asto the future safety of her dog?”
Sir Joseph nodded and rose to his feet. He said:
“I’ll take you along in the car right away.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（1）
第一章
涅墨亚的狮子 [1]
1“莱蒙小姐，今早有什么有意思的事吗？”第二天早上，波洛走进办公室时问道。
他信任莱蒙小姐。这女人虽然缺乏想象力，却有一种直觉。只要她觉得什么事值得注意，通常来说，那事准值得注意。她是个天生的秘书。
“没什么特别的，波洛先生。只有一封信我觉得您可能会感兴趣。我把它放在文件的最上面了。”
“是什么事呢？”波洛兴致勃勃地向前迈了一步。
“一个男人来信请您调查他太太的狮子狗失踪事件。”
波洛的脚还在半空中就停住了。他瞥了莱蒙小姐一眼，目光中充满了深深的责备。但她压根儿没注意到，因为她早已自顾自地打起字来。打字速度之快、精准度之高，堪比一挺高速射击的坦克机枪。
波洛震惊了，既震惊又失望。莱蒙小姐，能干的莱蒙小姐，辜负了他！一只狮子狗！
一只狮子狗！就在他昨晚刚做完那个梦之后——今早当他的男仆为他送来热巧克力时，他正梦见自己接受完私人答谢，准备离开白金汉宫！
一句刻薄的俏皮话到了嘴边，但他没说出来。因为莱蒙小姐已全身心投入到飞速而又高效的打字工作中，想必也不会听见。
波洛极不情愿地咕哝了一声，拿起放在书桌边上那一小堆文件顶端的信。
没错，正像莱蒙小姐所说的那样。信是从城里寄过来的——以谈生意的态度提出了一项冒失无理的要求。主题是关于一只狮子狗的绑架事件。就是一只那种被阔太太们整日娇生惯养的眼睛鼓鼓的宠物狗。赫尔克里一边看信，一边轻蔑地撇起了嘴。
没什么不同寻常的情况，没什么不对头的地方，也没有……且慢，没错，没错，莱蒙小姐说得没错，有一个小细节令人生疑。有一个小小的细节的确非同寻常。
赫尔克里•波洛坐了下来，把这封信慢慢地、仔细地读了一遍。这不是他感兴趣的那种案子，更不是他精心挑选打算去侦破的那种案子。无论怎么看这都不是什么重要的案件，实际上简直平淡乏味到了极点。这不是——这才是他对这个案子充满抵触情绪的症结所在——这不是一件堪比赫拉克勒斯伟业的案件。
但是不幸的是，他很好奇……
没错，他很好奇……
他提高嗓门，好盖过莱蒙小姐打字的声音，让她听见。
“给这位约瑟夫•霍金爵士打个电话，”赫尔克里吩咐道，“约个时间，照他希望的那样，我去他的办公室见见他。”
像往常一样，莱蒙小姐的判断又一次被证明是对的。
***
“我是个平凡的人，波洛先生。”约瑟夫•霍金爵士说。
赫尔克里•波洛抬起右手打了个意义不明的手势。既可以理解为（如果你愿意这样理解的话）对约瑟夫爵士事业有成的仰慕和对他表现出的虚怀若谷的赞许；也可以理解为对他这番过于谦逊的表述的委婉反对。但赫尔克里•波洛无论如何都不会泄露此刻内心的真实想法：约瑟夫爵士的确很符合“平凡”这个词的字面意思，他是一个相貌平平的人。赫尔克里•波洛挑剔的目光落在他的双下巴、猪眼睛一样的小眼睛、蒜头鼻子和紧闭的嘴巴上。这副尊容让他想起了某个人或某件事，可一时之间他又想不起究竟是什么人或什么事了。他只隐约记得那是很久以前的事……在比利时……肯定与肥皂有关……约瑟夫爵士继续说着。
“我不摆什么臭架子，说话也从不兜圈子。大多数人，波洛先生，都不会计较这件事。
把它当作一笔烂账，一笔勾销，忘掉了事。但这不是约瑟夫•霍金的作风。我是个有钱人——这么说吧，两百英镑对我来说根本不算事儿……”
波洛敏捷地插嘴道：“我祝贺您！”
“嗯？”
约瑟夫爵士停了一下，那双小眼睛眯得更紧了一些。他厉声道：“但我也没有乱花钱的毛病。该花的钱我花，但也是照市价给——多一个子儿都没门！”
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“您知道我收费很高吧？”
“没错，没错。不过这件事，”约瑟夫爵士狡猾地望着他，“不过是小事一桩嘛。”
赫尔克里•波洛耸了耸肩膀，说道：“我从不讨价还价。我是一名专家。找专家办事，您就得付专家的价。”
约瑟夫爵士坦率地说道：“我知道你是处理这类事情的顶尖人物。我打听过了，人家告诉我你是最合适的人。我就想把这事查个水落石出，不在乎花多少钱。所以我才找你。”
“您很走运。”赫尔克里•波洛说道。
约瑟夫爵士又“嗯？”了一声。
“相当走运。”赫尔克里•波洛斩钉截铁地说道，“我可以不必过分谦虚，我正处于事业的巅峰状态。我打算不久后就隐退了——隐居乡间，偶尔出游，到世界各处去看看。另外，或许会搞点园艺，特别是西葫芦的品种改良工作。西葫芦是非常好的蔬菜，就是缺少点独特的风味。当然，这不是我要说的重点。我说这些不过是为了解释清楚这件事：我在隐退之前给自己定了一个特殊的任务。我决定再接办十二起案子——不多不少十二起。自封为‘赫拉克勒斯的苦差事’，如果可以这样形容的话。约瑟夫爵士，您的案子是这十二起案子中的第一件。我之所以会被它吸引，”他叹了口气，“是因为它实在是太微不足道了。”
“你想说的是至关重要吧？”约瑟夫爵士问道。
“我说的是微不足道。我侦办过各式各样的案子——谋杀案、无法解释的死亡事件、抢劫案、珠宝盗窃案，等等。可这还是头一回有人要我施展才能去调查一桩狮子狗绑架案。”
约瑟夫爵士嘟囔着：“你可真叫我吃惊！你不知道女人们会为了她们的宠物狗没完没了地纠缠吧！”
“这我倒是知道。不过做丈夫的出面找我办这种案子可是平生头一回。”
约瑟夫爵士颇为赞赏地眯起了他的小眼睛，说道：“我开始明白人家为什么向我推荐你了。你是个十分精明的家伙，波洛先生。”
波洛喃喃道：“您现在能跟我讲讲案情吗？那条狗是什么时候丢的？”
“刚好一周之前。”
“我想尊夫人现在急得都快疯了吧？”
约瑟夫爵士瞪圆双眼，说道：“你还没明白。那条狗已经给送回来了。”
“送回来了？容我冒昧地问一句，那您还找我来干吗？”
约瑟夫爵士的脸涨得通红。
“因为我他妈的不能就这么被人敲诈！好啦，波洛先生，我这就把这整件破事儿的经过讲给你听。狗是一个星期以前被人偷走的——我太太的女伴带它出去遛的时候，在肯辛顿公园被人剪了绳子弄走的。第二天我太太接到索要两百英镑的通知。你听听——两百英镑！就为了这么一条整天在你脚底下绊来绊去吱哇乱叫的小畜生！”
波洛小声说道：“那您是不同意掏这笔钱的喽？”
“绝对不掏——应该说，我要是能早点知道的话，是绝对不会掏的！可我太太米丽也很清楚这一点，她什么也没跟我说，直接就把钱——按要求全给的是一英镑面额的钞票——送到指定的地址去了。”
“然后狗就给送回来了？”
“对。当天晚上，门铃一响，那条畜生就坐在门前的台阶上。可其他的连个鬼影子都没有。”
“很好。请接着讲。”
“当然啦，米丽只得坦白了自己做的蠢事，我也发了点脾气。但是过了一会儿，我也就心平气和了——毕竟事已至此，再说你也不能指望女人做事能有点理智——要不是在俱乐部碰上了老萨缪尔森，我敢说我早就把这破事抛到脑后了。”
“怎么回事呢？”
“这他妈的根本就是不折不扣的敲诈！他也碰上了一模一样的事。他们从他太太那儿敲走了三百英镑！好嘛，这简直欺人太甚！我决定彻底制止这种事，于是便请你来了。”
“可是说实在的，约瑟夫爵士，最恰当同时也更经济的做法不是报警吗？”
约瑟夫爵士揉揉鼻子说道：“你结婚了吗，波洛先生？”
“啊，”波洛答道，“我没那福气。”
“哼，”约瑟夫爵士说道，“还真不敢说是什么福气，你要是结过婚，就会知道女人是种荒唐可笑的生物。只要一提警察，我太太就会歇斯底里——她脑子里已经认定了，只要报了警，她那心肝宝贝‘山童’就会遭遇不测。她坚决不同意那样做——而且实际上她也不愿意请你来调查。可是在这一点上我的态度非常坚决，她也就让步了。不过我得提醒你，她并不赞成这样做。”
赫尔克里•波洛轻声说道：“情况的确比较微妙。或许我最好去见见尊夫人，从她那里再了解一些更详细的情况，同时也可以安抚她一下，让她不必为她的宝贝小狗今后的安全担心。”
约瑟夫爵士点点头，站起身说：“你现在就跟我一道坐车去。”
1.THE NEMEAN LION（2）
II
In a large, hot, ornately furnished drawing room two women were sitting.
As Sir Joseph and Hercule Poirot entered, a small Pekinese dog rushed forward, barkingfuriously, and circling dangerously round Poirot’s ankles.
“Shan—Shan, come here. Come here to mother, lovey—Pick him up, Miss?Carnaby.”
The second woman hurried forward and Hercule Poirot murmured:
“A veritable lion, indeed.”
Rather breathlessly Shan Tung’s captor agreed.
“Yes, indeed, he’s such a good watch dog. He’s not frightened of anything or any one.
There’s a lovely boy, then.”
Having performed the necessary introduction, Sir Joseph said:
“Well, Mr.?Poirot, I’ll leave you to get on with it,” and with a short nod he left the room.
Lady Hoggin was a stout, petulant-looking woman with dyed henna red hair. Her companion,the fluttering Miss?Carnaby, was a plump, amiable-looking creature between forty and fifty. Shetreated Lady Hoggin with great deference and was clearly frightened to death of her.
Poirot said:
“Now tell me, Lady Hoggin, the full circumstances of this abominable crime.”
Lady Hoggin flushed.
“I’m very glad to hear you say that, Mr.?Poirot. For it was a crime. Pekinese are terriblysensitive—just as sensitive as children. Poor Shan Tung might have died of fright if of nothingelse.”
Miss?Carnaby chimed in breathlessly:
“Yes, it was wicked—wicked!”
“Please tell me the facts.”
“Well, it was like this. Shan Tung was out for his walk in the Park with Miss?Carnaby—”
“Oh dear me, yes, it was all my fault,” chimed in the companion. “How could I have been sostupid—so careless—”
Lady Hoggin said acidly:
“I don’t want to reproach you, Miss?Carnaby, but I do think you might have been morealert.”
Poirot transferred his gaze to the companion.
“What happened?”
Miss?Carnaby burst into voluble and slightly flustered speech.
“Well, it was the most extraordinary thing! We had just been along the flower walk—ShanTung was on the lead, of course—he’d had his little run on the grass—and I was just about to turnand go home when my attention was caught by a baby in a pram—such a lovely baby—it smiledat me—lovely rosy cheeks and such curls. I couldn’t just resist speaking to the nurse in charge andasking how old it was—seventeen months, she said—and I’m sure I was only speaking to her forabout a minute or two, and then suddenly I looked down and Shan wasn’t there any more. Thelead had been cut right through—”
Lady Hoggin said:
“If you’d been paying proper attention to your duties, nobody could have sneaked up and cutthat lead.”
Miss?Carnaby seemed inclined to burst into tears. Poirot said hastily:
“And what happened next?”
“Well, of course I looked everywhere. And called! And I asked the Park attendant if he’dseen a man carrying a Pekinese dog but he hadn’t noticed anything of the kind—and I didn’t knowwhat to do—and I went on searching, but at last, of course, I had to come home—”
Miss?Carnaby stopped dead. Poirot could imagine the scene that followed well enough. Heasked:
“And then you received a letter?”
Lady Hoggin took up the tale.
“By the first post the following morning. It said that if I wanted to see Shan Tung alive I wasto send ?200 in one pound notes in an unregistered packet to Captain Curtis, 38 Bloomsbury RoadSquare. It said that if the money were marked or the police informed then—then—Shan Tung’sears and tail would be—cut off!”
Miss?Carnaby began to sniff.
“So awful,” she murmured. “How people can be such fiends!”
Lady Hoggin went on:
“It said that if I sent the money at once, Shan Tung would be returned the same evening aliveand well, but that if—if afterwards I went to the police, it would be Shan Tung who would sufferfor?it—”
Miss?Carnaby murmured tearfully:
“Oh dear, I’m so afraid that even now—of course, M. Poirot isn’t exactly the police—”
Lady Hoggin said anxiously:
“So you see, Mr.?Poirot, you will have to be very careful.”
Hercule Poirot was quick to allay her anxiety.
“But I, I am not of the police. My inquiries, they will be conducted very discreetly, veryquietly. You can be assured, Lady Hoggin, that Shan Tung will be perfectly safe. That I willguarantee.”
Both ladies seemed relieved by the magic word. Poirot went on: “You have here the letter?”
Lady Hoggin shook her head.
“No, I was instructed to enclose it with the money.”
“And you did so?”
“Yes.”
“H’m, that is a pity.”
Miss?Carnaby said brightly:
“But I have the dog lead still. Shall I get it?”
She left the room. Hercule Poirot profited by her absence to ask a few pertinent questions.
“Amy Carnaby? Oh! she’s quite all right. A good soul, though foolish, of course. I have hadseveral companions and they have all been complete fools. But Amy was devoted to Shan Tungand she was terribly upset over the whole thing—as well she might be—hanging overperambulators and neglecting my little sweetheart! These old maids are all the same, idiotic overbabies! No, I’m quite sure she had nothing whatever to do with it.”
“It does not seem likely,” Poirot agreed. “But as the dog disappeared when in her charge onemust make quite certain of her honesty. She has been with you long?”
“Nearly a year. I had excellent references with her. She was with old Lady Hartingfield untilshe died—ten years, I believe. After that she looked after an invalid sister for a while. She really isan excellent creature—but a complete fool, as I said.”
Amy Carnaby returned at this minute, slightly more out of breath, and produced the cut doglead which she handed to Poirot with the utmost solemnity, looking at him with hopefulexpectancy.
Poirot surveyed it carefully.
“Mais oui,” he said. “This has undoubtedly been cut.”
The two women waited expectantly. He said:
“I will keep this.”
Solemnly he put it in his pocket. The two women breathed a sigh of relief. He had clearlydone what was expected of him.
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（2）
2在一间宽敞、闷热、装潢过度的客厅里坐着两个女人。
约瑟夫爵士和赫尔克里•波洛走进房间的时候，一条狮子狗立刻狂吠着冲了过来，并且不怀好意地在波洛的脚踝周围转来转去。
“山——山，过来！到妈妈这边来，小宝贝……卡纳比小姐，去把它抱过来。”
另一个女人急忙奔了过去。赫尔克里•波洛小声嘟哝道：“还真像头狮子！”
刚刚捉住“山童”的那个女人气喘吁吁地附和道：“没错，真格的，它真是一条相当出色的看家狗。不管什么事，也不管是什么人，都别想吓住它。真是个可爱的好孩子！”
简要的几句介绍之后，约瑟夫爵士说道：“好了，波洛先生，接下来你就看着办吧。”他稍一点头，离开了屋子。
霍金夫人是个看上去脾气很差的矮胖女人，染着一头棕红色的头发。她的女伴、忐忑不安的卡纳比小姐胖胖的、面相和善，年纪在四十岁到五十岁之间。她对霍金夫人言听计从，显然对她怕得要死。
波洛说道：“那么，霍金夫人，请您把这桩卑鄙罪行的整个经过讲给我听听吧。”
霍金夫人顿时满面红光。
“我真的很高兴听到您那么讲，波洛先生，因为那的确是一种罪行。狮子狗相当敏感——像小孩子一样敏感。不用别的，光是吓也能把可怜的‘山童’吓死了。”
卡纳比小姐上气不接下气地连声附和道：“就是的，真恶毒——简直太恶毒了！”
“请讲讲实际经过。”
“嗯，是这样的。‘山童’跟着卡纳比小姐到公园去散步……”
“哦，天哪，没错，都怪我。”那位女伴又连声附和道，“我怎么那么蠢、那么粗心大意……”
霍金夫人尖刻地说道：“我并不想责怪你，卡纳比小姐，可我确实觉得你本该更警觉点儿才对。”
波洛的目光移向那位女伴。
“出了什么事？”
卡纳比小姐开始滔滔不绝但有点颠三倒四地叙述了起来。
“那简直是一件最不可思议的事情！我们正沿着鲜花小道走着——当然了，‘山童’跑在前头。它刚刚在草地上跑了一阵子，我们正准备掉头回家，这时一个躺在婴儿车里的小娃娃把我吸引住了——多可爱的小宝宝啊，他冲我直笑，可爱的小脸蛋粉扑扑的，一头漂亮的鬈发。我忍不住跟那位保姆聊起来，问她孩子多大了，她说十七个月了——我敢说我只跟她聊了一两分钟，接着我低头一看，山山不见了。狗绳让人齐齐割断了……”
霍金夫人冷冷地说道：“如果你对你的本职工作多上点心的话，根本不会有人能溜过来割断那根狗绳。”
卡纳比小姐看上去马上就要哭出来了。波洛急忙插嘴道：“接下来又怎么样了？”
“哦，当然啦，我到处去找，高声呼唤！我还问了问公园看门人有没有见到有人带着一条狮子狗，可他根本没注意……我真不知道该怎么办……只好接着到处找，最后，当然了，我只好回家了……”
卡纳比小姐的叙述戛然而止。可是波洛已经能够想象出此后的情景了。他接着问道：“接着你们就收到了一封信？”
霍金夫人接过了话茬儿。
“信是第二天早晨随第一班邮件送来的。信上说如果我想见到‘山童’活着回来，就必须准备两百英镑现款——全都要一英镑面额的——用不挂号的包裹寄到布卢姆斯伯里大街广场三十八号柯蒂兹上尉处。信上还说如果钱上做了记号或是报了警……那么……‘山童’的耳朵和尾巴就会被……割掉！”
卡纳比小姐开始抽泣。
“太可怕了，”她喃喃道，“怎么会有人这样狠毒！”
霍金夫人接着说道：“信上说如果我立刻把钱送去，‘山童’当天晚上就会被安然无恙地送回来；但是如果……如果我事后去报警，‘山童’将再次遭殃……”
卡纳比小姐眼泪汪汪地嘟囔道：“哦，天哪，我直到现在还在担心……当然了，波洛先生不算是警察……”
霍金夫人不安地说道：“所以，波洛先生，您必须非常小心谨慎才行。”
赫尔克里•波洛马上打消了她的顾虑。
“说到我嘛，我不是警察。我的调查工作将会非常小心谨慎地悄悄进行。您尽管放心，霍金夫人，‘山童’会非常安全。这一点我可以向您保证。”
这个充满魔力的字眼似乎让眼前的两个女人都大大地松了一口气。
波洛接着问道：“那封信您还留着吗？”
霍金夫人摇了摇头。
“没有，信中指示说信必须和钱一并寄回。”
“您照办了？”
“是的。”
“嗯，真可惜。”
卡纳比小姐灵机一动说道：“可我还留着那根狗绳呢。我去把它拿来好吗？”
接着她便走出了客厅。波洛趁她不在的时候问了几个关于她的问题。
“艾米•卡纳比吗？哦，她人还行。人品不错，当然就是太笨了。我先后雇过好几位陪伴，全都是些笨蛋。不过艾米是真心喜欢‘山童’的，这件事可把她给吓坏了——当然她也活该如此，净顾着在婴儿车旁边瞎晃荡，不管不顾我的小宝贝！这帮老处女全都一个样，看到小娃娃就跟着了魔似的！不，我敢肯定她不会跟这事有什么牵连。”
“看起来的确不太可能，”波洛表示同意，“不过狗是在她照管时丢的，总得弄清楚她是否老实。她在您这儿工作多久了？”
“快一年了。我有封推荐信证明她品行特别优良。她照顾了老哈廷菲尔德夫人十年，直到老太太去世。后来有一阵子她在照顾一个生病的姐姐。她真是个挺老实的人——不过，就像我说过的，实在是笨到家了。”
这时艾米•卡纳比气喘吁吁地回来了，她向波洛展示了那条被割断的狗绳，然后郑重其事地把绳子递给了他，同时满怀期望地看着他。
波洛仔细地检查了一番。
“没错，”他宣布道，“是被割断的。”
眼前的两个女人满怀期望地等待着。波洛接着说道：“那我先留下这个。”
他郑重其事地把它放进了口袋。两个女人都松了一口气。毫无疑问，他做了一件她们俩期望他做的事。
1.THE NEMEAN LION（3）
III
It was the habit of Hercule Poirot to leave nothing untested.
Though on the face of it it seemed unlikely that Miss?Carnaby was anything but the foolishand rather muddle-headed woman that she appeared to be, Poirot nevertheless managed tointerview a somewhat forbidding lady who was the niece of the late Lady Hartingfield.
“Amy Carnaby?” said Miss?Maltravers. “Of course, remember her perfectly. She was a goodsoul and suited Aunt Julia down to the ground. Devoted to dogs and excellent at reading aloud.
Tactful, too, never contradicted an invalid. What’s happened to her? Not in distress of any kind, Ihope. I gave her a reference about a year ago to some woman—name began with H—”
Poirot explained hastily that Miss?Carnaby was still in her post. There had been, he said, alittle trouble over a lost dog.
“Amy Carnaby is devoted to dogs. My aunt had a Pekinese. She left it to Miss?Carnaby whenshe died and Miss?Carnaby was devoted to it. I believe she was quite heartbroken when it died. Ohyes, she’s a good soul. Not, of course, precisely intellectual.”
Hercule Poirot agreed that Miss?Carnaby could not, perhaps, be described as intellectual.
His next proceeding was to discover the Park Keeper to whom Miss?Carnaby had spoken onthe fateful afternoon. This he did without much difficulty. The man remembered the incident inquestion.
“Middle-aged lady, rather stout—in a regular state she was—lost her Pekinese dog. I knewher well by sight—brings the dog along most afternoons. I saw her come in with it. She was in arare taking when she lost it. Came running to me to know if I’d seen any one with a Pekinese dog!
Well, I ask you! I can tell you, the Gardens is full of dogs—every kind—terriers, Pekes, Germansausage-dogs—even them Borzois—all kinds we have. Not likely as I’d notice one Peke morethan another.”
Hercule Poirot nodded his head thoughtfully.
He went to 38 Bloomsbury Road Square.
Nos. 38, 39 and 40 were incorporated together as the Balaclava Private Hotel. Poirot walkedup the steps and pushed open the door. He was greeted inside by gloom and a smell of cookingcabbage with a reminiscence of breakfast kippers. On his left was a mahogany table with a sad-looking chrysanthemum plant on it. Above the table was a big baize-covered rack into whichletters were stuck. Poirot stared at the board thoughtfully for some minutes. He pushed open adoor on his right. It led into a kind of lounge with small tables and some so-called easy chairscovered with a depressing pattern of cretonne. Three old ladies and one fierce-looking oldgentleman raised their heads and gazed at the intruder with deadly venom. Hercule Poirot blushedand withdrew.
He walked farther along the passage and came to a staircase. On his right a passage branchedat right angles to what was evidently the dining room.
A little way along this passage was a door marked “Office.”
On this Poirot tapped. Receiving no response, he opened the door and looked in. There was alarge desk in the room covered with papers but there was no one to be seen. He withdrew, closingthe door again. He penetrated to the dining room.
A sad-looking girl in a dirty apron was shuffling about with a basket of knives and forks withwhich she was laying the tables.
Hercule Poirot said apologetically:
“Excuse me, but could I see the Manageress?”
The girl looked at him with lacklustre eyes.
She said:
“I don’t know, I’m sure.”
Hercule Poirot said:
“There is no one in the office.”
“Well, I don’t know where she’d be, I’m sure.”
“Perhaps,” Hercule Poirot said, patient and persistent, “you could find out?”
The girl sighed. Dreary as her day’s round was, it had now been made additionally so by thisnew burden laid upon her. She said sadly:
“Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
Poirot thanked her and removed himself once more to the hall, not daring to face themalevolent glare of the occupants of the lounge. He was staring up at the baize-covered letter rackwhen a rustle and a strong smell of Devonshire violets proclaimed the arrival of the Manageress.
Mrs.?Harte was full of graciousness. She exclaimed:
“So sorry I was not in my office. You were requiringrooms?”
Hercule Poirot murmured:
“Not precisely. I was wondering if a friend of mine had been staying here lately. A CaptainCurtis.”
“Curtis,” exclaimed Mrs.?Harte. “Captain Curtis? Now where have I heard that name?”
Poirot did not help her. She shook her head vexedly.
He said:
“You have not, then, had a Captain Curtis staying here?”
“Well, not lately, certainly. And yet, you know, the name is certainly familiar to me. Can youdescribe your friend at all?”
“That,” said Hercule Poirot, “would be difficult.” He went on: “I suppose it sometimeshappens that letters arrive for people when in actual fact no one of that name is staying here?”
“That does happen, of course.”
“What do you do with such letters?”
“Well, we keep them for a time. You see, it probably means that the person in question willarrive shortly. Of course, if letters or parcels are a long time here unclaimed, they are returned tothe post office.”
Hercule Poirot nodded thoughtfully.
He said:
“I comprehend.” He added: “It is like this, you see. I wrote a letter to my friend here.”
Mrs.?Harte’s face cleared.
“That explains it. I must have noticed the name on an envelope. But really we have so manyex-Army gentlemen staying here or passing through—Let me see now.”
She peered up at the board.
Hercule Poirot said:
“It is not there now.”
“It must have been returned to the postman, I suppose. I am so sorry. Nothing important, Ihope?”
“No, no, it was of no importance.”
As he moved towards the door, Mrs.?Harte, enveloped in her pungent odour of violets,pursued him.
“If your friend should come—”
“It is most unlikely. I must have made a mistake. .?.?.”
“Our terms,” said Mrs.?Harte, “are very moderate. Coffee after dinner is included. I wouldlike you to see one or two of our bed-sitting rooms. .?.?.”
With difficulty Hercule Poirot escaped.
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（3）
3赫尔克里•波洛的习惯是对所有情况逐一调查核实，绝不遗漏任何一点。
虽然从表面上看，卡纳比小姐正如她看起来的那样，只是个蠢笨的、脑子相当糊涂的女人，不太可能有什么深藏不露的地方，但波洛还是设法约见了一位多少有点令人生畏的女士——已故的哈廷菲尔德夫人的侄女。
“艾米•卡纳比？”马尔特拉弗斯小姐说道，“当然了，我清清楚楚地记得她。她是个好人，一直照顾朱莉娅姑妈直到入土为安。她非常喜欢狗，善于大声朗读。也挺懂得通融世故，从不跟病人闹别扭。她出什么事了吗？但愿她没遇上什么麻烦。大概一年前我把她介绍给了一位太太……姓好像是‘H’开头的……”
波洛连忙说明卡纳比小姐眼下还在那儿工作，只是最近因为一条丢失的小狗遇上了点麻烦。
“艾米•卡纳比非常喜欢狗。我姑妈原来有一条狮子狗，去世后把它留给了卡纳比小姐，卡纳比小姐十分宠爱它。后来那条狗死了，我想她一定伤心极了。哦，没错，她是个好人，当然，不算聪明。”
赫尔克里•波洛表示赞同，恐怕不能说卡纳比小姐有多聪明。
接下来他又去寻找出事那天下午跟卡纳比小姐谈过话的那个公园看门人。这倒没费多大力气，而且那人还记得那件事。
“一位中年女士，胖胖的，看起来跟普通人没什么两样——丢了条狮子狗。我对她非常眼熟，她基本上每天下午都来遛狗。我看见她带着狗进来的。狗丢了以后，她有点不知所措，居然跑来问我有没有看见有人牵着一条狮子狗？哈，您倒是说说！我可以跟您讲，这个公园里到处都是狗——各种各样的狗，什么小猎狗、狮子狗、德国腊肠……甚至还有那种俄国大狼狗——可以说我们这儿什么狗都有。我怎么可能单单注意到一只狮子狗呢？”
赫尔克里•波洛若有所思地点了点头。
他动身前往布卢姆斯伯里大街广场三十八号。
三十八号、三十九号和四十号已经合在一起改成了“巴拉克拉瓦私人旅馆”。波洛走上台阶，推开了门。里面光线昏暗，一股煮甘蓝的气味混合着早餐留下的咸鱼味儿扑面而来。在他的左首，一张桃花心木的桌子上放着一盆惨不忍睹的菊花。桌子上方有一个硕大的贴着绿色台面呢的架子，上面胡乱塞着不少信件。波洛若有所思地注视了架子片刻，然后推开了右首的一扇门。这扇门通往一间貌似休息室的房间，里面有几张小桌子和几把所谓的安乐椅，上面铺着图案令人不快的印花布。三位老太太和一位相貌凶恶的老头儿抬起头来，恶狠狠地盯着闯进来的不速之客。赫尔克里•波洛窘迫地退了出来。
他顺着过道走下去，到了楼梯口。在他的右首垂直分出一条小过道，通向的地方显然是餐厅。
沿这条过道走不多远就有一扇门，门上标着“办公室”字样。
波洛轻轻叩了叩门，却没人回应。他推开门，向里面望去。屋里有一张摆满了文件的大书桌，却没有一个人影。他退了出来，重新关好门，径直走进了餐厅。
一个愁眉苦脸的姑娘围着条脏围裙，正拎着一篮刀叉走来走去，在桌子上逐一摆放。
赫尔克里•波洛满怀歉意地开口说道：“打扰一下，我能见一下你们的老板娘吗？”
姑娘用无神的双眼看了他一下。
她说道：“这我可说不好，真的。”
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“办公室里一个人都没有。”
“哦，我也不知道她眼下在哪儿，真的。”
“也许，”赫尔克里•波洛耐心而坚定不移地说道，“您可以帮我找一下，好吗？”
姑娘叹了口气。她的日常工作原本就够沉闷乏味的了，增加了这个新任务之后就显得更加沉重。她幽怨地说道：“好吧，我尽量找找看吧。”
波洛谢过她之后又退回到门口的大厅里，不敢再去面对休息室里那几位先到者充满恶意的目光。
他正盯着那个贴着绿呢的信件架时听到一阵衣裙婆娑之声，还伴随着一股浓烈的德文郡紫罗兰香水的气味，这表明老板娘到了。
哈特太太满怀歉意地高声说道：“太对不起了，我刚才没在办公室里。您要订房间吗？”
赫尔克里•波洛喃喃道：“其实不是的。我是来打听一下我的一个朋友柯蒂兹上尉最近是不是住在您这里？”
“柯蒂兹？”哈特太太大声说道，“柯蒂兹上尉？让我想想看，好像在哪儿听过这个名字？”
波洛没有给她更多的提示。她颇为伤神地摇了摇头。
波洛说道：“也就是说最近没有一位柯蒂兹上尉在您这里住过了？”
“嗯，至少最近没有。可是，说起来，这名字听着还真有点耳熟。您能跟我形容一下您这位朋友吗？”
“哦，”赫尔克里•波洛答道，“这倒有点困难。”他接着问道：“我想有时会有这种情况吧，信寄到了这里，但实际上收信人却不住在这儿？”
“确实会有这种情况。”
“那这些信件您会怎么处理呢？”
“哦，我们会保留一阵子。您知道，也许收信人过几天就会到。当然，长时间无人认领的信件或包裹都会被退回邮局。”
赫尔克里•波洛若有所思地点了点头。
“我明白了。”接着他又补充道，“其实是这么回事，我给一个住在这儿的朋友写了封信。”
哈特太太露出一副恍然大悟的表情。
“这就对了。我准是在某个信封上见到过柯蒂兹这个名字。可是，我们这儿住着很多退伍军人，来来去去的——让我查查看。”
她端详着墙上那个信件架。
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“那封信没在这儿。”
“那大概已经被退回邮局了。太对不起了，但愿不是什么要紧事吧？”
“不，不，不是什么要紧事。”
他朝门口走去，哈特太太带着满身刺鼻的紫罗兰香水味儿紧追不舍。
“万一您的朋友来了……”
“大概不会来了，我想必是搞错了……”
“我们的房价很公道，”哈特太太说，“餐后咖啡免费。您也许想参观一两套我们的卧室起居室两用客房……”
赫尔克里•波洛费了不少力气才脱身出来。
1.THE NEMEAN LION（4）
IV
The drawing room of Mrs.?Samuelson was larger, more lavishly furnished, and enjoyed an evenmore stifling amount of central heating than that of Lady Hoggin. Hercule Poirot picked his waygiddily amongst gilded console tables and large groups ofstatuary.
Mrs.?Samuelson was taller than Lady Hoggin and her hair was dyed with peroxide. HerPekinese was called Nanki Poo. His bulging eyes surveyed Hercule Poirot with arrogance.
Miss?Keble, Mrs.?Samuelson’s companion, was thin and scraggy where Miss?Carnaby had beenplump, but she also was voluble and slightly breathless. She, too, had been blamed for NankiPoo’s disappearance.
“But really, Mr.?Poirot, it was the most amazing thing. It all happened in a second. OutsideHarrods it was. A nurse there asked me the time—”
Poirot interrupted her.
“A nurse? A hospital nurse?”
“No, no—a children’s nurse. Such a sweet baby it was, too! A dear little mite. Such lovelyrosy cheeks. They say children don’t look healthy in London, but I’m sure—”
“Ellen,” said Mrs.?Samuelson.
Miss?Keble blushed, stammered, and subsided into silence.
Mrs.?Samuelson said acidly:
“And while Miss?Keble was bending over a perambulator that had nothing to do with her, thisaudacious villain cut Nanki Poo’s lead and made off with him.”
Miss?Keble murmured tearfully:
“It all happened in a second. I looked round and the darling boy was gone—there was just thedangling lead in my hand. Perhaps you’d like to see the lead, Mr.?Poirot?”
“By no means,” said Poirot hastily. He had no wish to make a collection of cut dog leads. “Iunderstand,” he went on, “that shortly afterwards you received a letter?”
The story followed the same course exactly—the letter—the threats of violence to NankiPoo’s ears and tail. Only two things were different—the sum of money demanded—?300—and theaddress to which it was to be sent: this time it was to Commander Blackleigh, Harrington Hotel,76 Clonmel Gardens, Kensington.
Mrs.?Samuelson went on:
“When Nanki Poo was safely back again, I went to the place myself, Mr.?Poirot. After all,three hundred pounds is three hundred pounds.”
“Certainly it is.”
“The very first thing I saw was my letter enclosing the money in a kind of rack in the hall.
Whilst I was waiting for the proprietress I slipped it into my bag. Unfortunately—”
Poirot said: “Unfortunately, when you opened it it contained only blank sheets of paper.”
“How did you know?” Mrs.?Samuelson turned on him with?awe.
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“Obviously, chère Madame, the thief would take care to recover the money before hereturned the dog. He would then replace the notes with blank paper and return the letter to the rackin case its absence should be noticed.”
“No such person as Commander Blackleigh had ever stayed there.”
Poirot smiled.
“And of course, my husband was extremely annoyed about the whole thing. In fact, he waslivid—absolutely livid!”
Poirot murmured cautiously:
“You did not—er—consult him before dispatching the money?”
“Certainly not,” said Mrs.?Samuelson with decision.
Poirot looked a question. The lady explained.
“I wouldn’t have risked it for a moment. Men are so extraordinary when it’s a question ofmoney. Jacob would have insisted on going to the police. I couldn’t risk that. My poor darlingNanki Poo. Anything might have happened to him! Of course, I had to tell my husband afterwards,because I had to explain why I was overdrawn at the Bank.”
Poirot murmured:
“Quite so—quite so.”
“And I have really never seen him so angry. Men,” said Mrs.?Samuelson, rearranging herhandsome diamond bracelet and turning her rings on her fingers, “think of nothing but money.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（4）
4萨缪尔森太太家的客厅比霍金太太家的更宽敞，装潢更富丽堂皇，暖气更是闷热得令人窒息。赫尔克里•波洛在一张张金漆雕花案几和成群的雕塑之间眼花缭乱地择路而行。
萨缪尔森太太的个子比霍金太太高，头发用双氧水漂过。她的狮子狗叫南基波，正瞪着两只鼓鼓的眼睛傲慢地审视着波洛。卡纳比小姐有点矮胖，萨缪尔森太太的女伴基布尔小姐却骨瘦如柴，但她讲起话来同样滔滔不绝而且也有点气喘吁吁的。同样的，她也因为弄丢了南基波而受到了责备。
“真的，波洛先生，这真是件令人吃惊的事。全都发生在眨眼之间。就在哈罗德公园外面。有位看护问我几点了。”
波洛打断了她的话：“一位看护？医院里的那种吗？”
“哦不，不是的……是一位看孩子的保姆。那个孩子也是可爱极了！一个可爱的小家伙！粉嘟嘟的小脸蛋！据说伦敦的孩子看起来都不太健康，可我敢肯定——”
“艾伦！”萨缪尔森太太喊了一声。
基布尔小姐脸红了，嘟囔了几声就没了动静。
萨缪尔森太太尖刻地说道：“就在基布尔小姐弯着腰看一辆同她一点关系都没有的婴儿车的时候，那个胆大包天的恶棍割断了狗绳，把南基波偷走了。”
基布尔小姐眼泪汪汪地嘟囔道：“全都是在一瞬间发生的。我转身一看，宝贝狗狗就不见了……只剩下半截狗绳在我手里晃悠。也许您想看一下那根狗绳吧，波洛先生？”
“不必了。”波洛连忙说道，他无意收集一大堆被割断了的狗绳。“我明白了，”他接着说道，“很快您就收到了一封信，是吧？”
接下来的经过一模一样：勒索信、威胁割掉南基波的耳朵和尾巴。只有两点不一样：
这次勒索的款项是三百英镑，这次送钱的地址是——肯辛顿区克隆梅尔花园七十六号，哈林顿旅馆布莱克利海军中校收。
萨缪尔森太太接着说道：“南基波被平安送回来以后，我亲自到那个地址去了一趟，波洛先生。不管怎么说，三百英镑可不是个小数目。”
“那是。”
“我一眼就看见装着钱的信封还塞在大厅里的信件架上。等老板娘的时候，我顺手把那封信塞进了自己的手提包。可惜的是……”
波洛替她说道：“可惜的是，您打开信封一看，里面装的只是一沓白纸。”
“您是怎么知道的？”萨缪尔森太太充满敬畏地望着他。
波洛耸了耸肩膀。
“很明显嘛，亲爱的夫人，那个贼人把狗送回来之前肯定先要把钱弄到手。他把钞票换成白纸，再把信封塞回信件架上，免得有人发现那封信不见了。”
“根本就没有什么布莱克利中校在那儿住过。”
波洛微微一笑。
“当然啦，我丈夫对这事极为恼火。实际上，他气得脸都青了，真的青了！”
波洛小心翼翼地轻声问道：“您采取果断行动之前……呃……没跟他商量吗？”
“当然没有。”萨缪尔森夫人肯定地说。
波洛不解地望着她。那位夫人连忙解释道：“我绝不能冒那个险。男人在涉及钱的问题上总是特别古怪。雅各布肯定会坚持报警的。我不能冒那个险。我那可怜的宝贝儿南基波，天知道它会出什么事！当然，事后我不得不告诉我丈夫，因为我得解释为什么我在银行透支了。”
波洛轻声说道：“理所当然……理所当然。”
“我从没见过他发那么大的脾气。男人啊，”萨缪尔森太太一边说，一边重新整理了一下她那漂亮的钻石手镯，转了转手指上的几枚戒指，“除了钱，什么都不放在心上。”
1.THE NEMEAN LION（5）
VHercule Poirot went up in the lift to Sir Joseph Hoggin’s office. He sent in his card and was toldthat Sir Joseph was engaged at the moment but would see him presently. A haughty blonde sailedout of Sir Joseph’s room at last with her hands full of papers. She gave the quaint little man adisdainful glance in passing.
Sir Joseph was seated behind his immense mahogany desk. There was a trace of lipstick onhis chin.
“Well, Mr.?Poirot? Sit down. Got any news for me?”
Hercule Poirot said:
“The whole affair is of a pleasing simplicity. In each case the money was sent to one of thoseboarding houses or private hotels where there is no porter or hall attendant and where a largenumber of guests are always coming and going, including a fairly large preponderance of ex-Service men. Nothing would be easier than for any one to walk in, abstract a letter from the rack,either take it away, or else remove the money and replace it with blank paper. Therefore, in everycase, the trail ends abruptly in a blank wall.”
“You mean you’ve no idea who the fellow is?”
“I have certain ideas, yes. It will take a few days to follow them?up.”
Sir Joseph looked at him curiously.
“Good work. Then, when you have got anything to report—”
“I will report to you at your house.”
Sir Joseph said:
“If you get to the bottom of this business, it will be a pretty good piece of work.”
Hercule Poirot said:
“There is no question of failure. Hercule Poirot does not fail.”
Sir Joseph Hoggin looked at the little man and grinned.
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” he demanded.
“Entirely with reason.”
“Oh well.” Sir Joseph Hoggin leaned back in his chair. “Pride goes before a fall, you know.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（5）
5赫尔克里•波洛乘电梯上楼来到约瑟夫•霍金先生的办公室。他递上名片，却被告知约瑟夫爵士此刻正忙，不过很快就能见他。最终，一位高傲的金发女郎从霍金先生的办公室里昂然而出，手上捧着一摞文件。她从这个古怪的小个子身边经过时不屑地瞥了他一眼。
约瑟夫爵士坐在他那巨大的红木书桌后面，下巴上还有块口红印。
“哦，波洛先生，请坐。给我带来什么好消息了？”
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“整个案子干得相当干净利落。每起案件里赎金都是被送到那种寄宿公寓或者私人小旅馆去的。那种地方没有门房或者前厅服务员，总有大批客人进进出出，其中包括一大批退伍军人。谁都可以随随便便走进去把信从墙上的信件架上抽出来，无论是直接拿走，还是把信里的钞票换成白纸再放回去，都不费吹灰之力。因此，每起案件的线索到这面墙上就都断了。”
“你的意思是你想不出这事是谁干的？”
“我倒是有些想法。不过还得花几天时间查查。”
约瑟夫爵士饶有兴趣地看着他。
“好样的。等你查出什么来……”
“我就到您府上汇报。”
约瑟夫爵士说道：“你如果真把这事查清楚了，那可是件了不起的成就。”
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“一定会查清楚的，绝对没有问题！赫尔克里•波洛从不失败！”
约瑟夫•霍金爵士望着这个小个子，咧嘴一笑。
“对自己很有信心嘛。”
“我有十足的把握。”
“好吧，”约瑟夫•霍金爵士往椅子上一靠，说道，“骄兵必败，你知道的。”
1.THE NEMEAN LION（6）
VI
Hercule Poirot, sitting in front of his electric radiator (and feeling a quiet satisfaction in its neatgeometrical pattern) was giving instructions to his valet and general factotum.
“You understand, Georges?”
“Perfectly, sir.”
“More probably a flat or maisonette. And it will definitely be within certain limits. South ofthe Park, east of Kensington Church, west of Knightsbridge Barracks and north of Fulham Road.”
“I understand perfectly, sir.”
Poirot murmured.
“A curious little case. There is evidence here of a very definite talent for organization. Andthere is, of course, the surprising invisibility of the star performer—the Nemean Lion himself, if Imay so style him. Yes, an interesting little case. I could wish that I felt more attracted to my client—but he bears an unfortunate resemblance to a soap manufacturer of Liège who poisoned his wifein order to marry a blonde secretary. One of my early?successes.”
Georges shook his head. He said gravely:
“These blondes, sir, they’re responsible for a lot of trouble.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（6）
6赫尔克里•波洛坐在他的电暖炉前给他的男仆兼管家下达指示，暖炉那规整的几何形外观让他感到心满意足。
“听明白了吗，乔治？”
“一清二楚，先生。”
“很可能是一套公寓或是一栋两层小屋。范围有限，肯辛顿公园以南，肯辛顿教堂以东，骑士桥营以西以及富勒姆路以北。”
“全都听明白了，先生。”
波洛喃喃道：“一件让人很感兴趣的小案子。种种迹象表明作案人很有组织才能。当然啦，还有案件中那位明星成员——涅墨亚狮子——可以这么称呼他，令人惊奇地隐身在幕后。没错，一件挺有意思的小案子。我真希望能对我的委托人更有好感一点。但遗憾的是他让我想起了以前列日 [2] 的一位肥皂制造商。那家伙为了娶他的金发女秘书而毒死了他的太太，是我早年间侦办的案子之一。”
乔治摇了摇头，沉痛地说道：“那些金发女郎，先生，惹出了不少麻烦。”
1.THE NEMEAN LION（7）
VII
It was three days later when the invaluable Georges said:
“This is the address, sir.”
Hercule Poirot took the piece of paper handed to him.
“Excellent, my good Georges. And what day of the week?”
“Thursdays, sir.”
“Thursdays. And today, most fortunately, is a Thursday. So there need be no delay.”
Twenty minutes later Hercule Poirot was climbing the stairs of an obscure block of flatstucked away in a little street leading off a more fashionable one. No. 10 Rosholm Mansions wason the third and top floor and there was no lift. Poirot toiled upwards round and round the narrowcorkscrew staircase.
He paused to regain his breath on the top landing and from behind the door of No. 10 a newsound broke the silence—the sharp bark of a dog.
Hercule Poirot nodded his head with a slight smile. He pressed the bell of No. 10.
The barking redoubled—footsteps came to the door, it was opened. .?.?.
Miss?Amy Carnaby fell back, her hand went to her ample breast.
“You permit that I enter?” said Hercule Poirot, and entered without waiting for the reply.
There was a sitting room door open on the right and he walked in. Behind him Miss?Carnabyfollowed as though in a dream.
The room was very small and much overcrowded. Amongst the furniture a human beingcould be discovered, an elderly woman lying on a sofa drawn up to the gas fire. As Poirot came in,a Pekinese dog jumped off the sofa and came forward uttering a few sharp suspicious barks.
“Aha,” said Poirot. “The chief actor! I salute you, my little friend.”
He bent forward, extending his hand. The dog sniffed at it, his intelligent eyes fixed on theman’s face.
Miss?Carnaby muttered faintly:
“So you know?”
Hercule Poirot nodded.
“Yes, I know.” He looked at the woman on the sofa. “Your sister, I think?”
Miss?Carnaby said mechanically: “Yes, Emily, this—this is Mr.?Poirot.”
Emily Carnaby gave a gasp. She said: “Oh!”
Amy Carnaby said:
“Augustus. .?.?.”
The Pekinese looked towards her—his tail moved—then he resumed his scrutiny of Poirot’shand. Again his tail moved faintly.
Gently, Poirot picked the little dog up and sat down with Augustus on his knee. He said:
“So I have captured the Nemean Lion. My task is completed.”
Amy Carnaby said in a hard dry voice:
“Do you really know everything?”
Poirot nodded.
“I think so. You organized this business—with Augustus to help you. You took youremployer’s dog out for his usual walk, brought him here and went on to the Park with Augustus.
The Park Keeper saw you with a Pekinese as usual. The nurse girl, if we had ever found her,would also have agreed that you had a Pekinese with you when you spoke to her. Then, while youwere talking, you cut the lead and Augustus, trained by you, slipped off at once and made abeeline back home. A few minutes later you gave the alarm that the dog had been stolen.”
There was a pause. Then Miss?Carnaby drew herself up with a certain pathetic dignity. Shesaid:
“Yes. It is all quite true. I—I have nothing to say.”
The invalid woman on the sofa began to cry softly.
Poirot said:
“Nothing at all, Mademoiselle?”
Miss?Carnaby said:
“Nothing. I have been a thief—and now I am found out.”
Poirot murmured:
“You have nothing to say—in your own defence?”
A spot of red showed suddenly in Amy Carnaby’s white cheeks. She said:
“I—I don’t regret what I did. I think that you are a kind man, Mr.?Poirot, and that possiblyyou might understand. You see, I’ve been so terribly afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, it’s difficult for a gentleman to understand, I expect. But you see, I’m not a cleverwoman at all, and I’ve no training and I’m getting older—and I’m so terrified for the future. I’venot been able to save anything—how could I with Emily to be cared for?—and as I get older andmore incompetent there won’t be any one who wants me. They’ll want somebody young andbrisk. I’ve—I’ve known so many people like I am—nobody wants you and you live in one roomand you can’t have a fire or any warmth and not very much to eat, and at last you can’t even paythe rent of your room .?.?. There are Institutions, of course, but it’s not very easy to get into themunless you have influential friends, and I haven’t. There are a good many others situated like I am—poor companions—untrained useless women with nothing to look forward to but a deadly fear.
.?.?.”
Her voice shook. She said:
“And so—some of us—got together and—and I thought of this. It was really havingAugustus that put it into my mind. You see, to most people, one Pekinese is very much likeanother. (Just as we think the Chinese are.) Really, of course, it’s ridiculous. No one who knewcould mistake Augustus for Nanki Poo or Shan Tung or any of the other Pekes. He’s far moreintelligent for one thing, and he’s much handsomer, but, as I say, to most people a Peke is just aPeke. Augustus put it into my head—that, combined with the fact that so many rich women havePekinese dogs.”
Poirot said with a faint smile:
“It must have been a profitable—racket! How many are there in the—the gang? Or perhaps Ihad better ask how often operations have been successfully carried out?”
Miss?Carnaby said simply:
“Shan Tung was the sixteenth.”
Hercule Poirot raised his eyebrows.
“I congratulate you. Your organization must have been indeed excellent.”
Emily Carnaby said:
“Amy was always good at organization. Our father—he was the Vicar of Kellington in Essex—always said that Amy had quite a genius for planning. She always made all the arrangements forthe Socials and the Bazaars and all that.”
Poirot said with a little bow:
“I agree. As a criminal, Mademoiselle, you are quite in the first rank.”
Amy Carnaby cried:
“A criminal. Oh dear, I suppose I am. But—but it never felt like that.”
“How did it feel?”
“Of course, you are quite right. It was breaking the law. But you see—how can I explain it?
Nearly all these women who employ us are so very rude and unpleasant. Lady Hoggin, forinstance, doesn’t mind what she says to me. She said her tonic tasted unpleasant the other day andpractically accused me of tampering with it. All that sort of thing.” Miss?Carnaby flushed. “It’sreally very unpleasant. And not being able to say anything or answer back makes it rankle more, ifyou know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” said Hercule Poirot.
“And then seeing money frittered away so wastefully—that is upsetting. And Sir Joseph,occasionally he used to describe a coup he had made in the City—sometimes something thatseemed to me (of course, I know I’ve only got a woman’s brain and don’t understand finance)downright dishonest. Well, you know, M. Poirot, it all—it all unsettled me, and I felt that to take alittle money away from these people who really wouldn’t miss it and hadn’t been too scrupulous inacquiring it—well, really it hardly seemed wrong at all.”
Poirot murmured:
“A modern Robin Hood! Tell me, Miss?Carnaby, did you ever have to carry out the threatsyou used in your letters?”
“Threats?”
“Were you ever compelled to mutilate the animals in the way you specified?”
Miss?Carnaby regarded him in horror.
“Of course, I would never have dreamed of doing such a thing! That was just—just an artistictouch.”
“Very artistic. It worked.”
“Well, of course I knew it would. I know how I should have felt about Augustus, and ofcourse I had to make sure these women never told their husbands until afterwards. The planworked beautifully every time. In nine cases out of ten the companion was given the letter with themoney to post. We usually steamed it open, took out the notes, and replaced them with paper.
Once or twice the woman posted it herself. Then, of course, the companion had to go to the hoteland take the letter out of the rack. But that was quite easy, too.”
“And the nursemaid touch? Was it always a nursemaid?”
“Well, you see, M. Poirot, old maids are known to be foolishly sentimental about babies. Soit seemed quite natural that they should be absorbed over a baby and not notice anything.”
Hercule Poirot sighed. He said:
“Your psychology is excellent, your organization is first class, and you are also a very fineactress. Your performance the other day when I interviewed Lady Hoggin was irreproachable.
Never think of yourself disparagingly, Miss?Carnaby. You may be what is termed an untrainedwoman but there is nothing wrong with your brains or with your courage.”
Miss?Carnaby said with a faint smile:
“And yet I have been found out, M. Poirot.”
“Only by me. That was inevitable! When I had interviewed Mrs.?Samuelson I realized thatthe kidnapping of Shan Tung was one of a series. I had already learned that you had once been lefta Pekinese dog and had an invalid sister. I had only to ask my invaluable servant to look for asmall flat within a certain radius occupied by an invalid lady who had a Pekinese dog and a sisterwho visited her once a week on her day out. It was simple.”
Amy Carnaby drew herself up. She said:
“You have been very kind. It emboldens me to ask you a favour. I cannot, I know, escape thepenalty for what I have done. I shall be sent to prison, I suppose. But if you could, M. Poirot, avertsome of the publicity. So distressing for Emily—and for those few who knew us in the old days. Icould not, I suppose, go to prison under a false name? Or is that a very wrong thing to ask?”
Hercule Poirot said:
“I think I can do more than that. But first of all I must make one thing quite clear. This ramphas got to stop. There must be no more disappearing dogs. All that is finished!”
“Yes! Oh yes!”
“And the money you extracted from Lady Hoggin must be returned.”
Amy Carnaby crossed the room, opened the drawer of a bureau and returned with a packet ofnotes which she handed to Poirot.
“I was going to pay it into the pool today.”
Poirot took the notes and counted them. He got up.
“I think it possible, Miss?Carnaby, that I may be able to persuade Sir Joseph not toprosecute.”
“Oh, M. Poirot!”
Amy Carnaby clasped her hands. Emily gave a cry of joy. Augustus barked and wagged histail.
“As for you, mon ami,” said Poirot addressing him. “There is one thing that I wish you wouldgive me. It is your mantle of invisibility that I need. In all these cases nobody for a momentsuspected that there was a second dog involved. Augustus possessed the lion’s skin ofinvisibility.”
“Of course, M. Poirot, according to the legend, Pekinese were lions once. And they still havethe hearts of lions!”
“Augustus is, I suppose, the dog that was left to you by Lady Hartingfield and who isreported to have died? Were you never afraid of him coming home alone through the traffic?”
“Oh no, M. Poirot, Augustus is very clever about traffic. I have trained him most carefully.
He has even grasped the principle of One Way Streets.”
“In that case,” said Hercule Poirot, “he is superior to most human beings!”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（7）
7三天过后，可贵的乔治汇报说：“这就是您要的地址，先生。”
赫尔克里•波洛接过递给他的纸条。
“太棒了！好样儿的乔治。是星期几？”
“周四，先生。”
“周四，今天正巧是周四。那就别耽搁啦。”
二十分钟过后，赫尔克里•波洛爬起了楼梯。这栋偏僻的楼房隐藏在一条狭窄的街道里，这条街通往一片更加时髦的住宅区。罗休姆大厦十号在三层，也是顶层，没有电梯。
波洛艰难地沿着螺旋形楼梯一圈一圈往上爬。
他在楼梯顶端停下来喘了口气。这时，十号的门后突然传出一个声音——狗吠声，打破了四周的寂静。
赫尔克里•波洛带着一丝微笑点了点头，按下了十号的门铃。
狗叫得更厉害了——一阵脚步声走到门口，门开了……艾米•卡纳比小姐吓得退了一步，手按在自己丰满的胸脯上。
“我可以进去吗？”赫尔克里•波洛问道，没等对方回答就跨进了门槛。
右边是间起居室，他走了进去。卡纳比小姐木然跟在他身后。
房间很小，拥挤不堪。一堆家具中间藏着一个人影，一位上了岁数的女人躺在一张被拖到煤气炉附近的沙发上。波洛进来的时候，一条狮子狗从沙发上跳了下来，冲到他面前，发出一阵充满怀疑的吠叫。
“啊哈，”波洛说道，“大主角！向你致敬，我的小朋友。”
他俯下身子，伸出了手。那条狗闻了闻他的手，一双机灵的眼睛紧紧盯住他的脸。
卡纳比小姐有气无力地小声说道：“您都知道了？”
赫尔克里•波洛点了点头。
“对，我都知道了。”他望着沙发上的那个女人，“我想那位是您的姐姐吧？”
卡纳比小姐呆呆地答道：“是的，埃米莉，这位……这位是波洛先生。”
埃米莉•卡纳比倒抽一口凉气，惊呼道：“哦！”
艾米•卡纳比说道：“奥古斯特斯……”
那条狮子狗看了看她，摇了摇尾巴，又继续认真地检查起波洛的手来，接着又轻轻摇了摇尾巴。
波洛轻柔地把小狗抱了起来，坐下来，把它放在膝盖上。
“我终于逮住了这头涅墨亚狮子。任务也算完成了。”
艾米•卡纳比声音嘶哑地问道：“您真的什么都知道了吗？”
波洛点了点头。
“我想是的。您策划了整个行动——由奥古斯特斯协助您完成。您带着您雇主的狗出门散步，把狗带到这儿来，然后带上奥古斯特斯前往肯辛顿公园。公园看门人看见您不过是像往常一样带着一条狮子狗散步。那个保姆，如果真有那么一位保姆的话，也会说您跟她谈话时确实牵着一条狮子狗。然后，您趁聊天的时候割断狗绳。而奥古斯特斯，您早就训练好它了，它会立刻溜走，原路返回到家里来。几分钟之后，您就惊呼狗被偷走了。”
沉默片刻。卡纳比小姐带着一种可悲的尊严挺起身来，说道：“没错。就是这样的。
我……我没什么可说的。”
沙发上那个孱弱的女人轻声哭了起来。
波洛说道：“真没有什么可说的了吗，小姐？”
卡纳比小姐说道：“没什么可说的。我做了贼……现在被人发现了。”
波洛轻声说道：“难道没有什么要为自己辩解的吗？”
艾米•卡纳比惨白的脸颊上突然显出了红晕。她说道：“我……我对自己干的事一点也不后悔。我觉得您是一个心地善良的人，波洛先生，所以您也许能理解。您知道吗，我一直非常非常担忧。”
“担忧？”
“是的，我想，对一位绅士来说这是很难理解的。您知道，我并不聪明，也没受过任何专业培训，可是岁数越大——我越对将来充满恐惧。我攒不下钱——我还有埃米莉要照顾，哪攒得下钱呢？等我更老、更不中用的时候，谁还会雇我呢？他们会要更年轻能干的。我……我认识不少像我这样的姐妹，没人愿意雇用你，你只能蜷缩在一间小屋子里，连生火取暖都办不到。也没多少吃的东西，到最后连房租也付不起……当然，是有些所谓的机构，可那不是想进就能进的，除非你有门路，但是我没有。有不少像我这种情况的人——给人做女伴的穷姐妹，没受过培训的没用女人，我们都对将来充满恐惧，什么指望都没有……”
她声音颤抖地继续说道：“因此……我们一部分人……聚在一起……我想出了这个主意。其实是因为有奥古斯特斯，我才想出这个主意的。您知道，对大多数人来说，狮子狗都长得差不多，就跟我们觉得中国人都长得差不多似的。当然，这很荒谬。只要是认识它的人，都不会把奥古斯特斯错当成南基波或者山童或者任何一只别的狮子狗。它比别的狗聪明得多，也漂亮得多。但就像我说的，在大多数人看来，狮子狗就是狮子狗。奥古斯特斯给了我灵感——同时也是因为想到许多有钱的女人都养狮子狗。”
波洛带着一丝不易察觉的微笑说道：“这想必是桩挺赚钱的……买卖！你们……你们这伙人有多少个啊？或许我还是问问你们得手了多少次比较好。”
卡纳比小姐简洁地答道：“‘山童’是第十六次。”
赫尔克里•波洛扬起眉毛。
“那得祝贺你们啦。你们这个组织干得相当出色。”
埃米莉•卡纳比说道：“艾米一向很有组织才能。我们的父亲——他生前是埃塞克斯郡凯林顿教区的牧师——总是说艾米有做策划人的天分。她一直负责组织安排社团聚会、义卖什么的。”
波洛微微鞠躬，说道：“我完全同意。作为罪犯，小姐，您也是一流的。”
艾米•卡纳比惊叫道：“罪犯！哦，天哪！我想我的确犯了法。可……可我从来没有觉得我是个罪犯。”
“那您觉得是怎么回事呢？”
“当然，您说得对。这是犯法的。可是要知道——我该怎么解释呢？几乎所有雇用我们的女人都非常傲慢无礼，难以相处。就拿霍金夫人来说吧，对我什么话都说得出口。有一天，她说她熬的补药味道不对，几乎是在诬蔑我做了手脚。诸如此类的事多得很。”卡纳比小姐的脸涨得通红，“真叫人气愤！可我又什么也不能说，甚至连反驳都不行，这就更让人耿耿于怀。您明白我的意思吗？”
“完全理解。”赫尔克里•波洛答道。
“眼看着钱就那么一点一点被挥霍掉——真叫人看不下去。约瑟夫爵士有时还会吹嘘他刚在金融城里捞了一票，可有时在我看来——当然我知道自己完全是女人见识，我不懂金融——那是某种非常不诚实的勾当。嗯，您知道，波洛先生，这都……这都让我心里很不平衡，于是我就想从这些家伙身上弄点小钱出来，反正他们不在乎也从来不会费心思去计较这点钱。嗯，好像这根本没有多大的错似的。”
波洛轻声说道：“一位现代侠盗罗宾汉！告诉我，卡纳比小姐，您有没有被迫实施信中的那些威胁呢？”
“什么威胁？”
“有没有被迫照您信中所说的那样残害那些小家伙啊？”
卡纳比小姐一脸惊恐地望着他。
“当然没有！我压根儿想都不会想！那不过是……不过是一种艺术手段。”
“非常富有艺术性。也相当有效。”
“那当然，我知道肯定有效。我明白自己对奥古斯特斯是怎样的感情，我必须确保那些女人不会在事前告诉她们的丈夫。计划每次都进行得十分顺利。十有八九，装钱的信封会交给女伴们去投寄。我们一般都用蒸汽把信封打开，取出钞票，换上白纸。也有一两次，那些女人亲自去投寄。当然啦，这样一来，那个女伴就得去旅馆一趟，从信件架上把信取走。不过那也容易得很。”
“看孩子的保姆那一套呢？还是说真的每次都有个保姆在场？”
“您知道，波洛先生，大家都觉得老处女们全都傻乎乎地宠爱娃娃。因此，如果她们被小宝宝吸引而忽视了别的事，似乎很自然。”
赫尔克里•波洛叹了口气，说道：“您的心理分析十分出色，组织能力也是一流的，您本人还是一名非常优秀的演员。我跟霍金夫人见面那天，您的表现无懈可击。永远不要小看自己，卡纳比小姐。您可能会被说成那种没受过专业培训的女人，可您的头脑和勇气却十分出众。”
卡纳比小姐淡淡一笑。
“可我还是被逮住了，波洛先生。”
“只是被我逮到了而已。当然这是不可避免的！跟萨缪尔森太太面谈时，我意识到‘山童’绑架案只是一系列案件中的一起。此前我已经听说有人留给您一条狮子狗，您还有位生病的姐姐。我只需要让我那位了不起的仆人在特定范围内寻找到一套小公寓，里面住着一位病弱的女士，她养着一条狮子狗，还有个妹妹在每周休息那天去看她。这很简单。”
艾米•卡纳比挺直了身子，说道：“您心地非常善良，因此我才斗胆向您提个恳求。我知道我肯定要为我做的事接受惩罚。我想我大概会进监狱。不过如果可以的话，波洛先生，您能不能尽量避免公开这件事。这会让埃米莉和我们寥寥无几的几位老朋友非常难堪的。我想，我大概不能用个假名入狱吧？也许我不应该提出这种要求。”
赫尔克里•波洛说道：“我想我还能多帮一点忙。但是首先，我得把这一点讲清楚：这个勾当必须停止。今后不准再有什么丢狗的事件发生。所有这一切就此结束！”
“没问题！当然没问题！”
“您从霍金太太那里弄到的钱也得退还。”
艾米•卡纳比穿过房间，打开一张书桌的抽屉，拿回来一包钞票交给了波洛。
“我本打算今天把它存进我们的基金里。”
波洛接过钞票清点了一下，然后站了起来。
“我想，卡纳比小姐，也许我能说服约瑟夫爵士不提起诉讼。”
“哦，波洛先生！”
艾米•卡纳比双手紧握在胸前。埃米莉高兴得喊了出来。奥古斯特斯也跟着汪汪叫了起来，还不停摇晃着尾巴。
“至于你，我的朋友，”波洛对着小狗说，“我倒希望你能给我一样东西——就是你那巧妙的隐身外衣。所有这些案件中，没有人想到过还有另一条狗参与其中。奥古斯特斯像狮子一样，拥有可以隐形的皮毛 [3] ！”
“当然啦，波洛先生，传说狮子狗一度就是狮子。它们至今还拥有狮子的心灵！”
“我猜奥古斯特斯就是哈廷菲尔德夫人留给你的、被误传已经死掉的那条狗吧？难道你从不担心它独自穿过车流回家吗？”
“哦，不用担心，波洛先生。奥古斯特斯非常聪明，能处理交通问题。我精心训练过它。它甚至掌握了单行道的规则！”
“在这一点上，”赫尔克里•波洛说道，“它比大多数人类还强呢！”
1.THE NEMEAN LION（8）
VIII
Sir Joseph received Hercule Poirot in his study. He said:
“Well, Mr.?Poirot? Made your boast good?”
“Let me first ask you a question,” said Poirot as he seated himself. “I know who the criminalis and I think it possible that I can produce sufficient evidence to convict this person. But in thatcase I doubt if you will ever recover your money.”
“Not get back my money?”
Sir Joseph turned purple.
Hercule Poirot went on:
“But I am not a policeman. I am acting in this case solely in your interests. I could, I think,recover your money intact, if no proceedings were taken.”
“Eh?” said Sir Joseph. “That needs a bit of thinking about.”
“It is entirely for you to decide. Strictly speaking, I suppose you ought to prosecute in thepublic interest. Most people would say so.”
“I dare say they would,” said Sir Joseph sharply. “It wouldn’t be their money that had gonewest. If there’s one thing I hate it’s to be swindled. Nobody’s ever swindled me and got awaywith it.”
“Well then, what do you decide?”
Sir Joseph hit the table with his fist.
“I’ll have the brass! Nobody’s going to say they got away with two hundred pounds of mymoney.”
Hercule Poirot rose, crossed to the writing table, wrote out a cheque for two hundred poundsand handed it to the other man.
Sir Joseph said in a weak voice:
“Well, I’m damned! Who the devil is this fellow?”
Poirot shook his head.
“If you accept the money, there must be no questions asked.”
Sir Joseph folded up the cheque and put it in his pocket.
“That’s a pity. But the money’s the thing. And what do I owe you, Mr.?Poirot?”
“My fees will not be high. This was, as I said, a very unimportant matter.” He paused—andadded, “Nowadays nearly all my cases are murder cases. .?.?.”
Sir Joseph started slightly.
“Must be interesting?” he said.
“Sometimes. Curiously enough, you recall to me one of my earlier cases in Belgium, manyyears ago—the chief protagonist was very like you in appearance. He was a wealthy soapmanufacturer. He poisoned his wife in order to be free to marry his secretary . . . Yes—theresemblance is very remarkable. .?.?.”
A faint sound came from Sir Joseph’s lips—they had gone a queer blue colour. All the ruddyhue had faded from his cheeks. His eyes, starting out of his head, stared at Poirot. He slipped downa little in his chair.
Then, with a shaking hand, he fumbled in his pocket. He drew out the cheque and tore it intopieces.
“That’s washed out—see? Consider it as your fee.”
“Oh but, Sir Joseph, my fee would not have been as large as that.”
“That’s all right. You keep it.”
“I shall send it to a deserving charity.”
“Send it anywhere you damn well like.”
Poirot leaned forward. He said:
“I think I need hardly point out, Sir Joseph, that in your position, you would do well to beexceedingly careful.”
Sir Joseph said, his voice almost inaudible:
“You needn’t worry. I shall be careful all right.”
Hercule Poirot left the house. As he went down the steps he said to himself:
“So—I was right.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（8）
8约瑟夫爵士在书房里接待了赫尔克里•波洛。他问道：“怎么样啊，波洛先生？你夸下的海口兑现了吗？”
“容我先问您一个问题，”波洛一边坐下来一边说道，“我知道罪犯是谁了，我想我也能拿出足够的证据来给那个人定罪。可是那样一来，您大概就拿不回您那笔钱了。”
“拿不回我的钱？！”
约瑟夫爵士整张脸都紫了。
赫尔克里•波洛接着说道：“但我不是警察。在这个案子里，我只为了您的利益行事。
我想我能把那笔钱分文不少地追回来，如果您不再追究下去的话。”
“嗯？”约瑟夫爵士说道，“这我倒要好好考虑考虑。”
“完全由您说了算。严格来讲，我觉得您应该起诉控告，为公众利益考虑嘛。大多数人都会这么说的。”
“我敢说他们会那么讲的，”约瑟夫爵士厉声说道，“又不是他们的钱打了水漂。我最恨的事就是被人敲走了钱，还从来没人能敲走我的钱还带着钱跑掉的。”
“那么，您决定怎么办呢？”
约瑟夫爵士用拳头砸了一下桌子。
“我还是要钱！谁也别想从我这儿捞走两百英镑！”
赫尔克里•波洛站起身来，穿过房间走到书桌前，开出一张两百英镑的支票递给了约瑟夫爵士。
约瑟夫爵士有气无力地说道：“哦，该死的！那家伙到底是谁？”
波洛摇了摇头。
“您如果收下了钱，就不能再问了。”
约瑟夫爵士把支票折好，放进衣服口袋里。
“太遗憾了。不过钱还是最实在的东西。我该付你多少钱，波洛先生？”
“我的费用没多少。就像我说过的那样，这个案子实在是微不足道。”他停了一下，又加上了一句，“我侦办的案子几乎都是谋杀案……”
约瑟夫爵士微微一惊。
“那一定挺有意思的吧？”
“有时候是的。很奇妙的是，您让我想起了早年间在比利时办过的一桩案子，很多年以前的事了——男主人公跟您长得很像。他是一个阔绰的肥皂制造商，为了跟女秘书结婚，把他太太毒死了……没错，简直太像了……”
约瑟夫爵士的唇间发出一丝微弱的声响，两片嘴唇都变成了奇怪的青色，脸颊上那健康红润的色泽也褪去了。他的两只眼睛几乎鼓了出来，死死地盯着波洛。身子在椅子里滑下去了一点。
接着他用一只发抖的手在衣服口袋里摸了半天。他掏出那张支票，把它撕成了碎片。
“两清了——明白了？就算是你的酬劳吧。”
“哦，可是约瑟夫爵士，我的酬劳哪有那么多啊。”
“没关系。收下吧。”
“我会把钱捐赠给一个合适的慈善机构。”
“你他妈的爱送哪儿就送哪儿去吧。”
波洛俯身说道：“我想用不着我给您指出来，约瑟夫爵士，处在您这样的地位，您得特别特别小心才行。”
约瑟夫爵士的声音微弱得几乎让人听不到。
“不必担心，我会十分小心的。”
波洛离开了那幢房子。走下台阶时他暗自思量道：看来，我早就猜对了。
1.THE NEMEAN LION（9）
IX
Lady Hoggin said to her husband:
“Funny, this tonic tastes quite different. It hasn’t got that bitter taste any more. I wonderwhy?”
Sir Joseph growled:
“Chemist. Careless fellows. Make things up differently different times.”
Lady Hoggin said doubtfully:
“I suppose that must be it.”
“Of course it is. What else could it be?”
“Has the man found out anything about Shan Tung?”
“Yes. He got me my money back all right.”
“Who was it?”
“He didn’t say. Very close fellow, Hercule Poirot. But you needn’t worry.”
“He’s a funny little man, isn’t he?”
Sir Joseph gave a slight shiver and threw a sideways glance upwards as though he felt theinvisible presence of Hercule Poirot behind his right shoulder. He had an idea that he wouldalways feel it there.
He said:
“He’s a damned clever little devil!”
And he thought to himself:
“Greta can go hang! I’m not going to risk my neck for any damned platinum blonde!”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（9）
9霍金夫人对她丈夫说道：“怪事，这补药的味道跟以前大不一样了，没有那股苦味了。
真想知道到底是怎么回事……”
约瑟夫爵士咆哮道：“药剂师！都是些粗心大意的家伙！配的药每次都不一样！”
霍金夫人满怀疑虑地说道：“可能真是那么回事吧。”
“当然是那样啊！还能有什么别的原因吗？”
“那个人弄清楚‘山童’的事了吗？”
“弄清楚了。他把钱给我追回来了。”
“到底是谁干的啊？”
“他没说。这个赫尔克里•波洛，是个口风很紧的家伙。不过不用再操心了。”
“他倒是个挺滑稽的小个子，是吧？”
约瑟夫爵士微微打了个哆嗦，向斜上方瞥了一眼，仿佛觉得有一个看不见的赫尔克里•波洛就站在他身后似的。他想，今后会永远觉得那个身影站在那里了。
他说道：“那家伙可是个该死的聪明透顶的魔鬼！”
与此同时他暗自思量着：让葛丽塔滚一边儿去吧！我才不会为了任何一个该死的金发女郎冒被绞死的危险呢！
1.THE NEMEAN LION（10）
X“Oh!”
Amy Carnaby gazed down incredulously at the cheque for two hundred pounds. She cried:
“Emily! Emily! Listen to this.
‘Dear Miss?Carnaby,
Allow me to enclose a contribution to your very deserving Fund before it isfinally wound up.
Yours very truly,
Hercule Poirot.’ ”
“Amy,” said Emily Carnaby, “you’ve been incredibly lucky. Think where you might benow.”
“Wormwood Scrubbs—or is it Holloway?” murmured Amy Carnaby. “But that’s all overnow—isn’t it, Augustus? No more walks to the Park with mother or mother’s friends and a littlepair of scissors.”
A far away wistfulness came into her eyes. She sighed.
“Dear Augustus! It seems a pity. He’s so clever .?.?. One can teach him anything. .?.?.”
第一章 涅墨亚的狮子（10）
10
“哦！”艾米•卡纳比难以置信地盯着那张两百英镑的支票，喊道，“埃米莉！埃米莉！听听这个。”
亲爱的卡纳比小姐：
请允许我在你们那笔受之无愧的基金结束募集之前附上这笔小小的捐赠。
赫尔克里•波洛敬启
“艾米，”埃米莉•卡纳比激动地说，“你简直太幸运了。想想看要不然你现在会在哪儿。”
“沃姆伍德•斯克鲁伯斯监狱，或者霍洛威监狱？”艾米•卡纳比轻轻说道，“不过一切都结束了，对不对，奥古斯特斯？今后再也不用跟妈妈或者妈妈的朋友带着把小剪刀去公园散步啦。”
她的双眼流露出追忆往昔的伤感之情。她叹息道：“亲爱的奥古斯特斯！想想挺可惜的。它那么聪明……什么事情一教就会……”
[1]欧律斯透斯安排的第一项任务是杀死住在涅墨亚附近山洞里的狮子。这头狮子会把妇女抓进洞里当人质，前来营救的人全部丧命。赫拉克勒斯一边寻找狮子一边做了些箭，但他并不知道这头狮子的金色皮毛刀枪不入，因此失败了几次。最后，赫拉克勒斯将狮子住的山洞一头封住，等它进洞后，以黑暗为掩护迅速靠近狮子。一种说法是赫拉克勒斯趁狮子被吓到的一刹那掐住其脖子，以蛮力勒死了它。另一种说法是他将箭射进了狮子的嘴里。杀死狮子后，赫拉克勒斯欲剥掉狮皮，无奈任何工具都不奏效，最终在雅典娜的提示下，借用狮爪剥下了狮皮。
历经十三天，赫拉克勒斯带着死狮来见欧律斯透斯，后者被吓坏了，并将赫拉克勒斯驱逐出城，让他自生自灭，并且扬言接下来的任务会更加艰险。
[2]比利时的一座城市。
[3]狮子的皮毛有助于它在草原上捕猎时隐藏自己，所以说是“隐形的皮毛”。