Mr. Goby sat in a chair. He was a small shrunken little man, so nondescript as to be practicallynonexistent.
He looked attentively1 at the claw foot of an antique table and addressed his remarks to it. Henever addressed anybody direct.
“Glad you got the names for me, Mr. Poirot,” he said. “Otherwise, you know, it might havetaken a lot of time. As it is, I’ve got the main facts—and a bit of gossip on the side…Alwaysuseful, that. I’ll begin at Borodene Mansions2, shall I?”
Poirot inclined his head graciously.
“Plenty of porters,” Mr. Goby informed the clock on the chimneypiece. “I started there, usedone or two different young men. Expensive, but worth it. Didn’t want it thought that there wasanyone making any particular inquiries3! Shall I use initials, or names?”
“Within these walls you can use the names,” said Poirot.
“Miss Claudia Reece-Holland spoken of as a very nice young lady. Father an MP. Ambitiousman. Gets himself in the news a lot. She’s his only daughter. She does secretarial work. Seriousgirl. No wild parties, no drink, no beatniks. Shares flat with two others. Number two works for theWedderburn Gallery in Bond Street. Arty type. Whoops4 it up a bit with the Chelsea set. Goesaround to places arranging exhibitions and art shows.
“The third one is your one. Not been there long. General opinion is that she’s a bit ‘wanting.’
Not all there in the top storey. But it’s all a bit vague. One of the porters is a gossipy type. Buyhim a drink or two and you’ll be surprised at the things he’ll tell you! Who drinks, and who drugs,and who’s having trouble with his income tax, and who keeps his cash behind the cistern5. Ofcourse you can’t believe it all. Anyway, there was some story about a revolver being fired onenight.”
“A revolver fired? Was anyone injured?”
“There seems a bit of doubt as to that. His story is he heard a shot fired one night, and he comesout and there was this girl, your girl, standing6 there with a revolver in her hand. She looked sort ofdazed. And then one of the other young ladies—or both of them, in fact—they come runningalong. And Miss Cary (that’s the arty one) says, ‘Norma, what on earth have you done?’ and MissReece-Holland, she says sharp-like, ‘Shut up, can’t you, Frances. Don’t be a fool!’ and she tookthe revolver away from your girl and says, ‘Give me that.’ She slams it into her handbag and thenshe notices this chap Micky, and goes over to him and says, laughing-like, ‘That must havestartled you, didn’t it?’ and Micky he says it gave him quite a turn, and she says, ‘You needn’tworry. Matter of fact, we’d no idea this thing was loaded. We were just fooling about.’ And thenshe says: ‘Anyway, if anybody asks you questions, tell them it is quite all right,’ and then she says:
‘Come on, Norma,’ and took her arm and led her along to the elevator, and they all went up again.
“But Micky said he was a bit doubtful still. He went and had a good look round the courtyard.”
Mr. Goby lowered his eyes and quoted from his notebook:
“‘I’ll tell you, I found something, I did! I found some wet patches. Sure as anything I did. Dropsof blood they were. I touched them with my finger. I tell you what I think. Somebody had beenshot—some man as he was running away…I went upstairs and I asked if I could speak to MissHolland. I says to her: “I think there may have been someone shot, Miss,” I says. “There are somedrops of blood in the courtyard.” “Good gracious,” she says, “How ridiculous. I expect, youknow,” she says, “it must have been one of the pigeons.” And then she says: “I’m sorry if it gaveyou a turn. Forget about it,” and she slipped me a five pound note. Five pound note, no less! Well,naturally, I didn’t open my mouth after that.’
“And then, after another whisky, he comes out with some more. ‘If you ask me, she took apotshot at that low class young chap that comes to see her. I think she and he had a row and shedid her best to shoot him. That’s what I think. But least said soonest mended, so I’m not repeatingit. If anyone asks me anything I’ll say I don’t know what they’re talking about.’” Mr. Gobypaused.
“Interesting,” said Poirot.
“Yes, but it’s as likely as not that it’s a pack of lies. Nobody else seems to know anything aboutit. There’s a story about a gang of young thugs who came barging into the courtyard one night,and had a bit of a fight—flick-knives out and all that.”
“I see,” said Poirot. “Another possible source of blood in the courtyard.”
“Maybe the girl did have a row with her young man, threatened to shoot him, perhaps. AndMicky overheard it and mixed the whole thing up—especially if there was a car backfiring justthen.”
“Yes,” said Hercule Poirot, and sighed, “that would account for things quite well.”
Mr. Goby turned over another leaf of his notebook and selected his confidant. He chose anelectric radiator7.
“Joshua Restarick Ltd. Family firm. Been going over a hundred years. Well thought of in theCity. Always very sound. Nothing spectacular. Founded by Joshua Restarick in 1850. Launchedout after the first war, with greatly increased investments abroad, mostly South Africa, WestAfrica and Australia. Simon and Andrew Restarick—the last of the Restaricks. Simon, the elderbrother, died about a year ago, no children. His wife had died some years previously8. AndrewRestarick seems to have been a restless chap. His heart was never really in the business thougheveryone says he had plenty of ability. Finally ran off with some woman, leaving his wife and adaughter of five years old. Went to South Africa, Kenya, and various other places. No divorce. Hiswife died two years ago. Had been an invalid9 for some time. He travelled about a lot, andwherever he went he seems to have made money. Concessions10 for minerals mostly. Everything hetouched prospered11.
“After his brother’s death, he seems to have decided12 it was time to settle down. He’d marriedagain and he thought the right thing to do was to come back and make a home for his daughter.
They’re living at the moment with his uncle Sir Roderick Horsefield—uncle by marriage that is.
That’s only temporary. His wife’s looking at houses all over London. Expense no object. They’rerolling in money.”
Poirot sighed. “I know,” he said. “What you outline to me is a success story! Everyone makesmoney! Everybody is of good family and highly respected. Their relations are distinguished13. Theyare well thought of in business circles.
“There is only one cloud in the sky. A girl who is said to be ‘a bit wanting,’ a girl who is mixedup with a dubious14 boyfriend who has been on probation15 more than once. A girl who may quitepossibly have tried to poison her stepmother, and who either suffers from hallucinations, or elsehas committed a crime! I tell you, none of that accords well with the success story you havebrought me.”
Mr. Goby shook his head sadly and said rather obscurely:
“There’s one in every family.”
“This Mrs. Restarick is quite a young woman. I presume she is not the woman he originally ranaway with?”
“Oh no, that bust16 up quite soon. She was a pretty bad lot by all accounts, and a tartar as well. Hewas a fool ever to be taken in by her.” Mr. Goby shut his notebook and looked inquiringly atPoirot. “Anything more you want me to do?”
“Yes. I want to know a little more about the late Mrs. Andrew Restarick. She was an invalid,she was frequently in nursing homes. What kind of nursing homes? Mental homes?”
“I take your point, Mr. Poirot.”
“And any history of insanity17 in the family—on either side?”
“I’ll see to it, Mr. Poirot.”
Mr. Goby rose to his feet. “Then I’ll take leave of you, sir. Good night.”
Poirot remained thoughtful after Mr. Goby had left. He raised and lowered his eyebrows18. Hewondered, he wondered very much.
Then he rang Mrs. Oliver:
“I told you before,” he said, “to be careful. I repeat that—Be very careful.”
“Careful of what?” said Mrs. Oliver.
“Of yourself. I think there might be danger. Danger to anyone who goes poking19 about wherethey are not wanted. There is murder in the air—I do not want it to be yours.”
“Have you had the information you said you might have?”
“Yes,” said Poirot, “I have had a little information. Mostly rumour20 and gossip, but it seemssomething happened at Borodene Mansions.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Blood in the courtyard,” said Poirot.
“Really!” said Mrs. Oliver. “That’s just like the title of an old-fashioned detective story. TheStain on the Staircase. I mean nowadays you say something more like She Asked for Death.”
“Perhaps there may not have been blood in the courtyard. Perhaps it is only what animaginative, Irish porter imagined.”
“Probably an upset milk bottle,” said Mrs. Oliver. “He couldn’t see it at night. Whathappened?”
Poirot did not answer directly.
“The girl thought she ‘might have committed a murder.’ Was that the murder she meant?”
“You mean she did shoot someone?”
“One might presume that she did shoot at someone, but for all intents and purposes missedthem. A few drops of blood…That was all. No body.”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Oliver, “it’s all very confused. Surely if anyone could still run out of acourtyard, you wouldn’t think you’d killed him, would you?”
“C’est difficile,” said Poirot, and rang off.
点击收听单词发音
1 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 whoops | |
int.呼喊声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 cistern | |
n.贮水池 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 radiator | |
n.暖气片,散热器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 invalid | |
n.病人,伤残人;adj.有病的,伤残的;无效的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 concessions | |
n.(尤指由政府或雇主给予的)特许权( concession的名词复数 );承认;减价;(在某地的)特许经营权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 prospered | |
成功,兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 probation | |
n.缓刑(期),(以观后效的)察看;试用(期) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 insanity | |
n.疯狂,精神错乱;极端的愚蠢,荒唐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |