Mrs. Rival pushed open the door of the Peacock’s Arms and made a slightly unsteady progresstowards the bar. She was murmuring under her breath. She was no stranger to this particularhostelry and was greeted quite affectionately by the barman.
“How do, Flo,” he said, “how’s tricks?”
“It’s not right,” said Mrs. Rival. “It’s not fair. No, it’s not right. I know what I’m talking about,Fred, and I say it’s not right.”
“Of course it isn’t right,” said Fred, soothingly2. “What is, I’d like to know? Want the usual,dear?”
Mrs. Rival nodded assent3. She paid and began to sip4 from her glass. Fred moved away to attendto another customer. Her drink cheered Mrs. Rival slightly. She still muttered under her breath butwith a more good-humoured expression. When Fred was near her once more she addressed himagain with a slightly softened5 manner.
“All the same, I’m not going to put up with it,” she said. “No, I’m not. If there’s one thing Ican’t bear, it’s deceit. I don’t stand for deceit, I never did.”
“Of course you didn’t,” said Fred.
He surveyed her with a practised eye. “Had a good few already,” he thought to himself. “Still,she can stand a couple more, I expect. Something’s upset her.”
“Deceit,” said Mrs. Rival. “Prevari—prevari—well, you know the word I mean.”
“Sure I know,” said Fred.
He turned to greet another acquaintance. The unsatisfactory performance of certain dogs cameunder review. Mrs. Rival continued to murmur1.
“I don’t like it and I won’t stand for it. I shall say so. People can’t think they can go aroundtreating me like that. No, indeed they can’t. I mean, it’s not right and if you don’t stick up foryourself, who’ll stick up for you? Give me another, dearie,” she added in a louder voice.
Fred obliged.
“I should go home after that one, if I were you,” he advised.
He wondered what had upset the old girl so much. She was usually fairly even-tempered. Afriendly soul, always good for a laugh.
“It’ll get me in bad, Fred, you see,” she said. “When people ask you to do a thing, they shouldtell you all about it. They should tell you what it means and what they’re doing. Liars6. Dirty liars,that’s what I say. And I won’t stand for it.”
“I should cut along home, if I were you,” said Fred, as he observed a tear about to trickle7 downthe mascaraed splendour. “Going to come on to rain soon, it is, and rain hard, too. Spoil that prettyhat of yours.”
Mrs. Rival gave one faint appreciative8 smile.
“I always was fond of cornflowers,” she said. “Oh, dear me, I don’t know what to do, I’m sure.”
“I should go home and have a nice kip,” said the barman, kindly9.
“Well, perhaps, but—”
“Come on, now, you don’t want to spoil that hat.”
“That’s very true,” said Mrs. Rival. “Yes, that’s very true. That’s a very prof—profumed—no Idon’t mean that—what do I mean?”
“Profound remark of yours, Fred.”
“Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome,” said Fred.
Mrs. Rival slipped down from her high seat and went not too steadily10 towards the door.
“Something seems to have upset old Flo tonight,” said one of the customers.
“She’s usually a cheerful bird—but we all have our ups and downs,” said another man, agloomy-looking individual.
“If anyone had told me,” said the first man, “that Jerry Grainger would come in fifth, waybehind Queen Caroline, I wouldn’t have believed it. If you ask me, there’s been hanky-panky.
Racing’s not straight nowadays. Dope the horses, they do. All of ’em.”
Mrs. Rival had come out of the Peacock’s Arms. She looked up uncertainly at the sky. Yes,perhaps it was going to rain. She walked along the street, hurrying slightly, took a turn to the left,a turn to the right and stopped before a rather dingy-looking house. As she took out a key andwent up the front steps a voice spoke11 from the area below, and a head poked12 round a corner of thedoor and looked up at her.
“Gentleman waiting for you upstairs.”
“For me?”
Mrs. Rival sounded faintly surprised.
“Well, if you call him a gentleman. Well dressed and all that, but not quite Lord Algernon Verede Vere, I would say.”
Mrs. Rival succeeded in finding the keyhole, turned the key in it and entered.
The house smelled of cabbage and fish and eucalyptus13. The latter smell was almost permanentin this particular hall. Mrs. Rival’s landlady14 was a great believer in taking care of her chest inwinter weather and began the good work in mid-September. Mrs. Rival climbed the stairs, aidingherself with the banisters. She pushed open the door on the first floor and went in, then shestopped dead and took a step backwards15.
“Oh,” she said, “it’s you.”
Detective Inspector16 Hardcastle rose from the chair where he was sitting.
“Good evening, Mrs. Rival.”
“What do you want?” asked Mrs. Rival with less finesse17 than she would normally have shown.
“Well, I had to come up to London on duty,” said Inspector Hardcastle, “and there were just oneor two things I thought I’d like to take up with you, so I came along on the chance of finding you.
The—er—the woman downstairs seemed to think you might be in before long.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Rival. “Well, I don’t see—well—”
Inspector Hardcastle pushed forward a chair.
“Do sit down,” he said politely.
Their positions might have been reversed, he the host and she the guest. Mrs. Rival sat down.
She stared at him very hard.
“What did you mean by one or two things?” she said.
“Little points,” said Inspector Hardcastle, “little points that come up.”
“You mean—about Harry18?”
“That’s right.”
“Now look here,” said Mrs. Rival, a slight belligerence19 coming into her voice; at the same timeas an aroma20 of spirits came clearly to Inspector Hardcastle’s nostrils21. “I’ve had Harry. I don’t wantto think of him any more. I came forward, didn’t I, when I saw his picture in the paper? I cameand told you about him. It’s all a long time ago and I don’t want to be reminded of it. There’snothing more I can tell you. I’ve told you everything I could remember and now I don’t want tohear any more about it.”
“It’s quite a small point,” said Inspector Hardcastle. He spoke gently and apologetically.
“Oh, very well,” said Mrs. Rival, rather ungraciously. “What is it? Let’s have it.”
“You recognized the man as your husband or the man you’d gone through a form of marriagewith about fifteen years ago. That is right, is it not?”
“I should have thought that by this time you would have known exactly how many years ago itwas.”
“Sharper than I thought,” Inspector Hardcastle said to himself. He went on.
“Yes, you’re quite right there. We looked it up. You were married on May 15th, 1948.”
“It’s always unlucky to be a May bride, so they say,” said Mrs. Rival gloomily. “It didn’t bringme any luck.”
“In spite of the years that have elapsed, you were able to identify your husband quite easily.”
Mrs. Rival moved with some slight uneasiness.
“He hadn’t aged22 much,” she said, “always took care of himself, Harry did.”
“And you were able to give us some additional identification. You wrote to me, I think, about ascar.”
“That’s right. Behind his left ear it was. Here,” Mrs. Rival raised a hand and pointed23 to theplace.
“Behind his left ear?” Hardcastle stressed the word.
“Well—” she looked momentarily doubtful, “yes. Well, I think so. Yes I’m sure it was. Ofcourse one never does know one’s left from one’s right in a hurry, does one? But, yes, it was theleft side of his neck. Here.” She placed her hand on the same spot again.
“And he did it shaving, you say?”
“That’s right. The dog jumped up on him. A very bouncy dog we had at the time. He keptrushing in—affectionate dog. He jumped up on Harry and he’d got the razor in his hand, and itwent in deep. It bled a lot. It healed up but he never lost the mark.” She was speaking now withmore assurance.
“That’s a very valuable point, Mrs. Rival. After all, one man sometimes looks very like anotherman, especially when a good many years have passed. But to find a man closely resembling yourhusband who has a scar in the identical place—well that makes the identification very nice andsafe, doesn’t it? It seems that we really have something to go on.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” said Mrs. Rival.
“And this accident with the razor happened—when?”
Mrs. Rival considered a moment.
“It must have been about—oh, about six months after we were married. Yes, that was it. We gotthe dog that summer, I remember.”
“So it took place about October or November, 1948. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“And after your husband left you in 1951….”
“He didn’t so much leave me as I turned him out,” said Mrs. Rival with dignity.
“Quite so. Whichever way you like to put it. Anyway, after you turned your husband out in1951 you never saw him again until you saw his picture in the paper?”
“Yes. That’s what I told you.”
“And you’re quite sure about that, Mrs. Rival?”
“Of course I’m sure. I never set eyes on Harry Castleton since that day until I saw him dead.”
“That’s odd, you know,” said Inspector Hardcastle, “that’s very odd.”
“Why—what do you mean?”
“Well, it’s a very curious thing, scar tissue. Of course, it wouldn’t mean much to you or me. Ascar’s a scar. But doctors can tell a lot from it. They can tell roughly, you know, how long a manhas had a scar.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Well, simply this, Mrs. Rival. According to our police surgeon and to another doctor whom weconsulted, that scar tissue behind your husband’s ear shows very clearly that the wound inquestion could not be older than about five to six years ago.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Rival. “I don’t believe it. I — nobody can tell. Anyway that wasn’twhen….”
“So you see,” proceeded Hardcastle in a smooth voice, “if that wound made a scar only five orsix years ago, it means that if the man was your husband he had no scar at the time when he leftyou in 1951.”
“Perhaps he didn’t. But anyway it was Harry.”
“But you’ve never seen him since, Mrs. Rival. So if you’ve never seen him since, how wouldyou know that he had acquired a scar five or six years ago?”
“You mix me up,” said Mrs. Rival, “you mix me up badly. Perhaps it wasn’t as long ago as1948—You can’t remember all these things. Anyway, Harry had that scar and I know it.”
“I see,” said Inspector Hardcastle and he rose to his feet. “I think you’d better think over thatstatement of yours very carefully, Mrs. Rival. You don’t want to get into trouble, you know.”
“How do you mean, get into trouble?”
“Well,” Inspector Hardcastle spoke almost apologetically, “perjury24.”
“Perjury. Me!”
“Yes. It’s quite a serious offence in law, you know. You could get into trouble, even go toprison. Of course, you’ve not been on oath in a coroner’s court, but you may have to swear to thisevidence of yours in a proper court sometime. Then—well, I’d like you to think it over verycarefully, Mrs. Rival. It may be that somebody—suggested to you that you should tell us this storyabout the scar?”
Mrs. Rival got up. She drew herself to her full height, her eyes flashed. She was at that momentalmost magnificent.
“I never heard such nonsense in my life,” she said. “Absolute nonsense. I try and do my duty. Icome and help you, I tell you all I can remember. If I’ve made a mistake I’m sure it’s naturalenough. After all I meet a good many—well, gentlemen friends, and one may get things a littlewrong sometimes. But I don’t think I did make a mistake. That man was Harry and Harry had ascar behind his left ear, I’m quite sure of it. And now, perhaps, Inspector Hardcastle, you’ll goaway instead of coming here and insinuating25 that I’ve been telling lies.”
Inspector Hardcastle got up promptly26.
“Good night, Mrs. Rival,” he said. “Just think it over. That’s all.”
Mrs. Rival tossed her head. Hardcastle went out of the door. With his departure, Mrs. Rival’sattitude altered immediately. The fine defiance27 of her attitude collapsed28. She looked frightened andworried.
“Getting me into this,” she murmured, “getting me into this. I’ll—I’ll not go on with it. I’ll—I’ll—I’m not going to get into trouble for anybody. Telling me things, lying to me, deceiving me. It’smonstrous. Quite monstrous29. I shall say so.”
She walked up and down unsteadily, then finally making up her mind, she took an umbrellafrom the corner and went out again. She walked along to the end of the street, hesitated at a call-box, then went on to a post office. She went in there, asked for change and went into one of thecall boxes. She dialled Directory and asked for a number. She stood there waiting till the call camethrough.
“Go ahead please. Your party is on the line.”
She spoke.
“Hallo … oh, it’s you. Flo here. No, I know you told me not to but I’ve had to. You’ve not beenstraight with me. You never told me what I was getting into. You just said it would be awkwardfor you if this man was identified. I didn’t dream for a moment that I would get mixed up in amurder … Well, of course you’d say that, but at any rate it wasn’t what you told me … Yes, I do. Ithink you are mixed up in it in some way … Well, I’m not going to stand for it, I tell you …There’s something about being an—ac—well, you know the word I mean—accessory, somethinglike that. Though I always thought that was costume jewellery. Anyway, it’s something like beinga something after the fact, and I’m frightened, I tell you … telling me to write and tell them thatbit about a scar. Now it seems he’d only got that scar a year or two ago and here’s me swearing hehad it when he left me years ago … And that’s perjury and I might go to prison for it. Well, it’s nogood your trying to talk me round … No … Obliging someone is one thing … Well I know … Iknow you paid me for it. And not very much either … Well, all right, I’ll listen to you, but I’m notgoing to … All right, all right, I’ll keep quiet … What did you say? … How much? … That’s a lotof money. How do I know that you’ve got it even … Well, yes, of course it would make adifference. You swear you didn’t have anything to do with it?—I mean with killing30 anyone … No,well I’m sure you wouldn’t. Of course, I see that … Sometimes you get mixed up with a crowd ofpeople—and they go further than you would and it’s not your fault … You always make thingssound so plausible31 … You always did … Well, all right, I’ll think it over but it’s got to be soon …Tomorrow? What time? … Yes … yes, I’ll come but no cheque. It might bounce … I don’t knowreally that I ought to go on getting myself mixed up in things even … all right. Well, if you say so… Well, I didn’t mean to be nasty about it … All right then.”
She came out of the post office weaving from side to side of the pavement and smiling toherself.
It was worth risking a little trouble with the police for that amount of money. It would set her upnicely. And it wasn’t very much risk really. She’d only got to say she’d forgotten or couldn’tremember. Lots of women couldn’t remember things that had only happened a year ago. She’d sayshe got mixed up between Harry and another man. Oh, she could think up lots of things to say.
Mrs. Rival was a naturally mercurial32 type. Her spirits rose as much now as they had beendepressed before. She began to think seriously and intently of the first things she would spend themoney on….
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收听单词发音
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1
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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7
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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8
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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11
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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12
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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13
eucalyptus
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| n.桉树，桉属植物 | |
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14
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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finesse
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| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
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18
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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belligerence
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| n.交战，好战性，斗争性 | |
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20
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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21
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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22
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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24
perjury
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| n.伪证；伪证罪 | |
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25
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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28
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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29
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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30
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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31
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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