“Ramsay,” said Colin, thoughtfully.
“What about him?”
“I like the sound of him, that’s all. He travels abroad—at a moment’s notice. His wife says he’sa construction engineer, but that’s all she seems to know about him.”
“She’s a nice woman,” said Hardcastle.
“Yes—and not a very happy one.”
“Tired, that’s all. Kids are tiring.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“Surely the sort of person you want wouldn’t be burdened with a wife and two sons,”
Hardcastle said sceptically.
“You never know,” said Colin. “You’d be surprised what some of the boys do for camouflage2.
A hard-up widow with a couple of kids might be willing to come to an arrangement.”
“I shouldn’t have thought she was that kind,” said Hardcastle primly3.
“I don’t mean living in sin, my dear fellow. I mean that she’d agree to be Mrs. Ramsay andsupply a background. Naturally, he’d spin her a yarn4 of the right kind. He’d be doing a spot ofespionage, say, on our side. All highly patriotic5.”
Hardcastle shook his head.
“You live in a strange world, Colin,” he said.
“Yes we do. I think, you know, I’ll have to get out of it one day … One begins to forget what iswhat and who is who. Half of these people work for both sides and in the end they don’t knowthemselves which side they are really on. Standards get gummed up—Oh, well—let’s get on withthings.”
“We’d better do the McNaughtons,” said Hardcastle, pausing at the gates of 63. “A bit of hisgarden touches 19—same as Bland6.”
“What do you know about the McNaughtons?”
“Not much—they came here about a year ago. Elderly couple—retired professor, I believe. Hegardens.”
The front garden had rose bushes in it and a thick bed of autumn crocus under the windows.
A cheerful young woman in a brightly flowered overall opened the door to them and said:
“You want?—Yes?”
Hardcastle murmured, “The foreign help at last,” and handed her his card.
“Police,” said the young woman. She took a step or two back and looked at Hardcastle asthough he were the Fiend in person.
“Mrs. McNaughton,” said Hardcastle.
“Mrs. McNaughton is here.”
She led them into the sitting room, which overlooked the back garden. It was empty.
“She up the stairs is,” said the no-longer cheerful young woman. She went out into the hall andcalled, “Mrs. McNaughton—Mrs. McNaughton.”
A voice far away said, “Yes. What is it, Gretel?”
“It is the police—two police. I put them in sitting room.”
There was a faint scurrying7 noise upstairs and the words “Oh, dear. Oh, dear, what next?”
floated down. Then there was a patter of feet and presently Mrs. McNaughton entered the roomwith a worried expression on her face. There was, Hardcastle decided8 quite soon, usually aworried expression on Mrs. McNaughton’s face.
“Oh, dear,” she said again, “oh, dear. Inspector9—what is it—Hardcastle—oh, yes.” She lookedat the card. “But why do you want to see us? We don’t know anything about it. I mean I suppose itis this murder, isn’t it? I mean, it wouldn’t be the television licence?”
Hardcastle reassured10 her on that point.
“It all seems so extraordinary, doesn’t it?” said Mrs. McNaughton, brightening up. “And moreor less midday, too. Such an odd time to come and burgle a house. Just the time when people areusually at home. But then one does read of such terrible things nowadays. All happening in broaddaylight. Why, some friends of ours—they were out for lunch and a furniture van drove up and themen broke in and carried out every stick of furniture. The whole street saw it happen but of coursethey never thought there was anything wrong. You know, I did think I heard someone screamingyesterday, but Angus said it was those dreadful boys of Mrs. Ramsay’s. They rush about thegarden making noises like spaceships, you know, or rockets, or atom bombs. It really is quitefrightening sometimes.”
Once again Hardcastle produced his photograph.
“Have you ever seen this man, Mrs. McNaughton?”
Mrs. McNaughton stared at it with avidity.
“I’m almost sure I’ve seen him. Yes. Yes, I’m practically certain. Now, where was it? Was itthe man who came and asked me if I wanted to buy a new encyclopedia11 in fourteen volumes? Orwas it the man who came with a new model of vacuum cleaner. I wouldn’t have anything to dowith him, and he went out and worried my husband in the front garden. Angus was planting somebulbs, you know, and he didn’t want to be interrupted and the man went on and on saying what thething would do. You know, how it would run up and down curtains, and would clean doorstepsand do the stairs and cushions and spring-clean things. Everything, he said, absolutely everything.
And then Angus just looked up at him and said, ‘Can it plant bulbs?’ and I must say I had to laughbecause it took the man quite aback and he went away.”
“And you really think that was the man in this photograph?”
“Well, no, I don’t really,” said Mrs. McNaughton, “because that was a much younger man, nowI come to think of it. But all the same I think I have seen this face before. Yes. The more I look atit the more sure I am that he came here and asked me to buy something.”
“Insurance perhaps?”
“No, no, not insurance. My husband attends to all that kind of thing. We are fully1 insured inevery way. No. But all the same—yes, the more I look at that photograph—”
Hardcastle was less encouraged by this than he might have been. He put down Mrs.
McNaughton, from the fund of his experience, as a woman who would be anxious for theexcitement of having seen someone connected with murder. The longer she looked at the picture,the more sure she would be that she could remember someone just like it.
He sighed.
“He was driving a van, I believe,” said Mrs. McNaughton. “But just when I saw him I can’tremember. A baker’s van, I think.”
“You didn’t see him yesterday, did you, Mrs. McNaughton?”
Mrs. McNaughton’s face fell slightly. She pushed back her rather untidy grey waved hair fromher forehead.
“No. No, not yesterday,” she said. “At least —” she paused. “I don’t think so.” Then shebrightened a little. “Perhaps my husband will remember.”
“Is he at home?”
“Oh, he’s out in the garden.” She pointed12 through the window where at this moment an elderlyman was pushing a wheelbarrow along the path.
“Perhaps we might go out and speak to him.”
“Of course. Come this way.”
She led the way out through a side door and into the garden. Mr. McNaughton was in a finestate of perspiration13.
“These gentlemen are from the police, Angus,” said his wife breathlessly. “Come about themurder at Miss Pebmarsh’s. There’s a photograph they’ve got of the dead man. Do you know, I’msure I’ve seen him somewhere. It wasn’t the man, was it, who came last week and asked us if wehad any antiques to dispose of?”
“Let’s see,” said Mr. McNaughton. “Just hold it for me, will you,” he said to Hardcastle. “Myhands are too earthy to touch anything.”
He took a brief look and remarked, “Never seen that fellow in my life.”
“Your neighbour tells me you’re very fond of gardening,” said Hardcastle.
“Who told you that—not Mrs. Ramsay?”
“No. Mr. Bland.”
Angus McNaughton snorted.
“Bland doesn’t know what gardening means,” he said. “Bedding out, that’s all he does. Shovesin begonias and geraniums and lobelia edging. That’s not what I call gardening. Might as well livein a public park. Are you interested in shrubs14 at all, Inspector? Of course, it’s the wrong time ofyear now, but I’ve one or two shrubs here that you’d be surprised at my being able to grow.
Shrubs that they say only do well in Devon and Cornwall.”
“I’m afraid I can’t lay claim to be a practical gardener,” said Hardcastle.
McNaughton looked at him much as an artist looks at someone who says they know nothing ofart but they know what they like.
“I’m afraid I’ve called about a much less pleasant subject,” Hardcastle said.
“Of course. This business yesterday. I was out in the garden, you know, when it happened.”
“Indeed?”
“Well, I mean I was here when the girl screamed.”
“What did you do?”
“Well,” said Mr. McNaughton rather sheepishly, “I didn’t do anything. As a matter of fact Ithought it was those blasted Ramsay boys. Always yelling and screaming and making a noise.”
“But surely this scream didn’t come from quite the same direction?”
“Not if those blasted boys ever stayed in their own garden. But they don’t, you know. They getthrough people’s fences and hedges. They chase those wretched cats of Mrs. Hemming’s all overthe place. There’s nobody to keep a firm hand on them, that’s the trouble. Their mother’s weak aswater. Of course, when there’s no man in the house, boys do get out of hand.”
“Mr. Ramsay is abroad a good deal I understand.”
“Construction engineer, I believe,” said Mr. McNaughton vaguely15. “Always going offsomewhere. Dams, you know. I’m not swearing, my dear,” he assured his wife. “I mean jobs to dowith the building of dams, or else it’s oil or pipelines16 or something like that. I don’t really know.
He had to go off to Sweden a month ago at a moment’s notice. That left the boys’ mother with alot to do—cooking and housework and that—and, well—of course they were bound to run wild.
They’re not bad boys, mind you, but they need discipline.”
“You yourself didn’t see anything—apart I mean from hearing the scream? When was that, bythe way?”
“No idea,” said Mr. McNaughton. “I take my watch off always before I come out here. Ran thehose over it the other day and had quite a job getting it repaired afterwards. What time was it, mydear? You heard it, didn’t you?”
“It must have been half past two perhaps—it was at least half an hour after we finished lunch.”
“I see. What time do you lunch?”
“Half past one,” said Mr. McNaughton, “if we’re lucky. Our Danish girl has got no sense oftime.”
“And afterwards—do you have a nap?”
“Sometimes. I didn’t today. I wanted to get on with what I was doing. I was clearing away a lotof stuff, adding to the compost heap, and all that.”
“Wonderful thing, a compost heap,” said Hardcastle, solemnly.
Mr. McNaughton brightened immediately.
“Absolutely. Nothing like it. Ah! The number of people I’ve converted. Using all thesechemical manures! Suicide! Let me show you.”
He drew Hardcastle eagerly by the arm and trundling his barrow, went along the path to theedge of the fence that divided his garden from that of No. 19. Screened by lilac bushes, thecompost heap was displayed in its glory. Mr. McNaughton wheeled the wheelbarrow to a smallshed beside it. Inside the shed were several nicely arranged tools.
“Very tidy you keep everything,” remarked Hardcastle.
“Got to take care of your tools,” said McNaughton.
Hardcastle was looking thoughtfully towards No. 19. On the other side of the fence was a rosepergola which led up to the side of the house.
“You didn’t see anyone in the garden at Number 19 or looking out of the window in the house,or anything like that while you were at your compost heap?”
McNaughton shook his head.
“Didn’t see anything at all,” he said. “Sorry I can’t help you, Inspector.”
“You know, Angus,” said his wife, “I believe I did see a figure skulking17 in the garden of 19.”
“I don’t think you did, my dear,” said her husband firmly. “I didn’t, either.”
“That woman would say she’d seen anything,” Hardcastle growled18 when they were back in thecar.
“You don’t think she recognized the photograph?”
Hardcastle shook his head. “I doubt it. She just wants to think she’s seen him. I know that typeof witness only too well. When I pinned her down to it, she couldn’t give chapter or verse, couldshe?”
“No.”
“Of course she may have sat opposite him in a bus or something. I’ll allow you that. But if youask me, it’s wishful thinking. What do you think?”
“I think the same.”
“We didn’t get much,” Hardcastle sighed. “Of course there are things that seem queer. Forinstance, it seems almost impossible that Mrs. Hemming—no matter how wrapped up in her catsshe is—should know so little about her neighbour, Miss Pebmarsh, as she does. And also that sheshould be so extremely vague and uninterested in the murder.”
“She is a vague kind of woman.”
“Scatty!” said Hardcastle. “When you meet a scatty woman—well, fires, burglaries, murderscan go on all round them and they wouldn’t notice it.”
“She’s very well fenced in with all that wire netting, and that Victorian shrubbery doesn’t leaveyou much of a view.”
They had arrived back at the police station. Hardcastle grinned at his friend and said:
“Well, Sergeant19 Lamb, I can let you go off duty now.”
“No more visits to pay?”
“Not just now. I must pay one more later, but I’m not taking you with me.”
“Well, thanks for this morning. Can you get these notes of mine typed up?” He handed themover. “Inquest is the day after tomorrow you said? What time?”
“Eleven.”
“Right. I’ll be back for it.”
“Are you going away?”
“I’ve got to go up to London tomorrow—make my report up to date.”
“I can guess who to.”
“You’re not allowed to do that.”
Hardcastle grinned.
“Give the old boy my love.”
“Also, I may be going to see a specialist,” said Colin.
“A specialist? What for? What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing—bar thickheadedness. I don’t mean that kind of a specialist. One in your line.”
“Scotland Yard?”
“No. A private detective—a friend of my Dad’s—and a friend of mine. This fantastic businessof yours will be just down his street. He’ll love it—it will cheer him up. I’ve an idea he needscheering up.”
“What’s his name?”
“Hercule Poirot.”
“I’ve heard of him. I thought he was dead.”
“He’s not dead. But I have a feeling he’s bored. That’s worse.”
Hardcastle looked at him curiously20.
“You’re an odd fellow, Colin. You make such unlikely friends.”
“Including you,” Colin said, and grinned.
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收听单词发音
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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7
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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encyclopedia
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| n.百科全书 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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15
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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16
pipelines
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| 管道( pipeline的名词复数 )； 输油管道； 在考虑（或规划、准备） 中； 在酿中 | |
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17
skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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18
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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