PART SIX DECEMBER 27TH V
Superintendent1 Sugden looked round at the circle of faces. He said, with something as near
irritation2 as he had yet shown:
“This is very irregular, Mr. Poirot.”
Poirot said:
“It is a little idea of mine. I wish to share with everyone the knowledge that I have acquired. I
shall then invite their cooperation, and so we shall get at the truth.”
Sugden murmured under his breath: “Monkey tricks.”
He leaned back in his chair. Poirot said:
“To begin with, you have, I think, an explanation to ask of Mr. Farr.”
“I should have chosen a less public moment,” he said. “However, I’ve no objection.” He
handed the cable to Stephen Farr. “Now, Mr. Farr, as you call yourself, perhaps you can explain
this?”
handed it back to the superintendent.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s pretty damning, isn’t it?”
Sugden said:
“Is that all you’ve got to say about it? You quite understand there is no obligation on you to
make a statement—”
Stephen Farr interrupted. He said:
“You needn’t caution me, Superintendent. I can see it trembling on your tongue! Yes, I’ll
give you an explanation. It’s not a very good one, but it’s the truth.”
He paused. Then he began:
“I’m not Ebenezer Farr’s son. But I knew both father and son quite well. Now try and put
yourself in my place. (My name is Stephen Grant, by the way.) I arrived in this country for the first
time in my life. I was disappointed. Everything and everybody seemed drab and lifeless. Then I
was travelling by train and I saw a girl. I’ve got to say it straight out: I fell for that girl! She was
the loveliest and most unlikely creature in the world! I talked to her for a while in the train and I
made up my mind then and there not to lose sight of her. As I was leaving the compartment5 I
caught sight of the label on her suitcase. Her name meant nothing to me, but the address to which
she was travelling did. I’d heard of Gorston Hall, and I knew all about its owner. He was Ebenezer
Farr’s one-time partner and old Eb often talked about him and said what a personality he was.
“Well, the idea came to me to go to Gorston Hall and pretend I was Eb’s son. He had died, as
this cable says, two years ago, but I remembered old Eb saying that he had not heard from Simeon
Lee now for many years, and I judged that Lee would not know of the death of Eb’s son. Anyway,
I felt it was worth trying.”
Sugden said: “You didn’t try it on at once, though. You stayed in the King’s Arms at
Addlesfield for two days.”
Stephen said:
“I was thinking it over—whether to try it or not. At last I made up my mind I would. It
appealed to me as a bit of an adventure. Well, it worked like a charm! The old man greeted me in
the friendliest manner and at once asked me to come and stay in the house. I accepted. There you
are, Superintendent, there’s my explanation. If you don’t fancy it, cast your mind back to your
courting days and see if you don’t remember some bit of foolishness you indulged in then. As for
my real name, as I say, it’s Stephen Grant. You can cable to South Africa and check up on me, but
I’ll tell you this: you’ll find I’m a perfectly6 respectable citizen. I’m not a crook7 or a jewel thief.”
Poirot said softly: “I never believed you were.”
“I’ll have to check up on that story. What I’d like to know is this: Why didn’t you come clean
after the murder instead of telling us a pack of lies?”
Stephen said disarmingly:
admitted to being here under a false name. If I hadn’t been a complete idiot I would have realized
you were bound to cable to Jo’burg.”
Sugden said:
“Well, Mr. Farr—er—Grant—I’m not saying I disbelieve your story. It will be proved or
disproved soon enough.”
He looked across inquiringly at Poirot. The latter said:
“I think Miss Estravados has something to say.”
Pilar had gone very white. She said, in a breathless voice:
“It is true. I would never have told you, but for Lydia and the money. To come here and
pretend and cheat and act—that was fun, but when Lydia said the money was mine and that it was
only justice, that was different; it was not fun any longer.”
Alfred Lee said with a puzzled face:
“I do not understand, my dear, what you are talking about.”
Pilar said:
“You think I am your niece, Pilar Estravados? But that is not so! Pilar was killed when I was
travelling with her in a car in Spain. A bomb came and it hit the car and she was killed, but I was
not touched. I did not know her very well, but she had told me all about herself and how her
grandfather had sent for her to go to England and that he was very rich. And I had no money at all
and I did not know where to go or what to do. And I thought suddenly: ‘Why should not I take
Pilar’s passport and go to England and become very rich?’ ” Her face lit up with its sudden wide
smile. “Oh, it was fun wondering if I could get away with it! Our faces on the photograph were not
unlike. But when they wanted my passport here I opened the window and threw it out and ran
down to get it, and then I rubbed some earth just over the face a little because at a barrier
travelling they do not look very closely, but here they might—”
Alfred Lee said angrily:
“Do you mean to say that you represented yourself to my father as his granddaughter, and
played on his affection for you?”
Pilar nodded. She said complacently10:
“Yes, I saw at once I could make him like me very much.”
George Lee broke out:
“She didn’t get any from you, old boy! Pilar, I’m on your side! I’ve got a profound
admiration14 for your daring. And, thank goodness, I’m not your uncle any more! That gives me a
much freer hand.”
Pilar said to Poirot: “You knew? When did you know?”
Poirot smiled:
“Mademoiselle, if you have studied the laws of Mendel you would know that two blue-eyed
respectable lady. It followed, then, that you were not Pilar Estravados at all. When you did your
trick with the passport, I was quite sure of it. It was ingenious, but not, you understand, quite
ingenious enough.”
Superintendent Sugden said unpleasantly:
“The whole thing’s not quite ingenious enough.”
Pilar stared at him. She said:
“I don’t understand. . . .”
Sugden said: “You’ve told us a story—but I think there’s a good deal more you haven’t told.”
Stephen said: “You leave her alone!”
Superintendent Sugden took no notice. He went on:
“You’ve told us that you went up to your grandfather’s room after dinner. You said it was an
impulse on your part. I’m going to suggest something else. It was you who stole those diamonds.
You’d handled them. On occasion, perhaps, you’d put them away in the safe and the old man
hadn’t watched you do it! When he found the stones were missing, he saw at once that only two
people could have taken them. One was Horbury, who might have got to know the combination
and have crept in and stolen them during the night. The other person was you.
“Well, Mr. Lee at once took measures. He rang me up and had me come to see him. Then he
sent word to you to come and see him immediately after dinner. You did so and he accused you of
the theft. You denied it; he pressed the charge. I don’t know what happened next—perhaps he
tumbled to the fact that you weren’t his granddaughter, but a very clever little professional thief.
was a struggle and he screamed. You were properly up against it then. You hurried out of the
room, turned the key from the outside and then, knowing you could not get away, before the
“It is not true! It is not true! I did not steal the diamonds! I did not kill him. I swear it by the
Sugden said sharply:
your story, that person must have been the murderer. No one else passed the recess! But we’ve
only your word for it that there was a figure there at all. In other words, you made that up to
George Lee said sharply:
“Of course she’s guilty! It’s all clear enough! I always said an outsider killed my father!
Preposterous nonsense to pretend one of his family would do a thing like that! It—it wouldn’t be
natural!”
Poirot stirred in his seat. He said:
“I disagree with you. Taking into consideration the character of Simeon Lee, it would be a
very natural thing to happen.”
“Eh?” George’s jaw dropped. He stared at Poirot.
Poirot went on:
“And, in my opinion, that very thing did happen. Simeon Lee was killed by his own flesh and
blood, for what seemed to the murderer a very good and sufficient reason.”
George cried: “One of us? I deny—”
Poirot’s voice broke in hard as steel.
“There is a case against every person here. We will, Mr. George Lee, begin with the case
against you. You had no love for your father! You kept on good terms with him for the sake of
money. On the day of his death he threatened to cut down your allowance. You knew that on his
went, as you say, to telephone. You did telephone—but the call lasted only five minutes. After that
you could easily have gone to your father’s room, chatted with him, and then attacked him and
killed him. You left the room and turned the key from outside, for you hoped the affair would be
as to support the burglar theory. That was stupid; but you are, if you will pardon my saying so,
rather a stupid man!
“However,” said Poirot, after a brief pause during which George tried to speak and failed,
“many stupid men have been criminals!”
He turned his eyes on Magdalene.
“Madame, too, she also had a motive. She is, I think, in debt, and the tone of certain of your
but she did not telephone, and we have only her word for what she did do. . . .
“Then,” he paused, “there is Mr. David Lee. We have heard, not once but many times, of the
revengeful tempers and long memories that went with the Lee blood. Mr. David Lee did not forget
have been the last straw. David Lee is said to have been playing the piano at the time of the
murder. By a coincidence he was playing the ‘Dead March.’ But suppose somebody else was
playing that ‘Dead March,’ somebody who knew what he was going to do, and who approved his
action?”
Hilda Lee said quietly:
Poirot turned to her. “I will offer you another, madame. It was your hand that did the deed. It
forgiveness. You are of those, madame, who can be terrible in anger. . . .”
Hilda said: “I did not kill him.”
Superintendent Sugden said brusquely:
“Mr. Poirot’s quite right. There is a possible case against everyone except Mr. Alfred Lee,
Mr. Harry Lee, and Mrs. Alfred Lee.”
Poirot said gently:
“I should not even except those three. . . .”
The superintendent protested: “Oh, come now, Mr. Poirot!”
Lydia Lee said:
“And what is the case against me, M. Poirot?”
Poirot bowed. He said:
“Your motive, madame, I pass over. It is sufficiently30 obvious. As to the rest, you were
wearing last night a flowered taffeta dress of a very distinctive31 pattern with a cape32. I will remind
you of the fact that Tressilian, the butler, is shortsighted. Objects at a distance are dim and vague
to him. I will also point out that your drawing room is big and lighted by heavily shaded lamps.
On that night, a minute or two before the cries were heard, Tressilian came into the drawing room
to take away the coffee-cups. He saw you, as he thought, in a familiar attitude by the far window
Lydia Lee said: “He did see me.”
Poirot went on:
“I suggest that it is possible that what Tressilian saw was the cape of your dress, arranged to
show by the window curtain, as though you yourself were standing there.”
Lydia said: “I was standing there. . . .”
Alfred said: “How dare you suggest—?”
Harry interrupted him.
“Let him go on, Alfred. It’s our turn next. How do you suggest that dear Alfred killed his
beloved father since we were both together in the dining room at the time?”
Poirot beamed at him.
“That,” he said, “is very simple. An alibi gains in force accordingly as it is unwillingly34 given.
You and your brother are on bad terms. It is well known. You jibe at him in public. He has not a
good word to say for you! But, supposing that were all part of a very clever plot. Supposing that
have got together some time ago. Your plan is laid. You come home. Alfred appears to resent your
talking and perhaps quarrelling aloud as though two people were there. The other goes upstairs
and commits the crime. . . .”
Alfred sprang to his feet.
“You devil!” he said. His voice was inarticulate.
Sugden was staring at Poirot. He said:
“Do you really mean—?”
Poirot said, with a sudden ring of authority in his voice:
“I have had to show you the possibilities! These are the things that might have happened!
Which of them actually did happen we can only tell by passing from the outside appearance to the
inside reality. . . .”
He paused and then said slowly:
“We must come back, as I said before, to the character of Simeon Lee himself. . . .”
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收听单词发音
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1
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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3
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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5
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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6
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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7
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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8
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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9
fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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10
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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11
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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12
pretences
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| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
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13
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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14
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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15
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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16
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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17
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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18
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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19
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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20
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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21
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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22
exculpate
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| v.开脱，使无罪 | |
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23
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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25
alibi
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| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
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26
jibe
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| v.嘲笑，与...一致，使转向；n.嘲笑，嘲弄 | |
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27
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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28
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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29
spoke
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| 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 | |
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30
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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31
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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32
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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33
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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34
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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