They stared at him.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?”
Restarick said angrily: “You’re wrong. That girl doesn’t even know what she’s done. She’sinnocent—completely innocent. She can’t be held responsible for what she doesn’t know she’sdone.”
“You let me talk for a while. I know what I’m talking about. You don’t. That girl is sane1 andresponsible for her actions. In a moment or two we’ll have her in and let her speak for herself.
She’s the only one who hasn’t had the chance of speaking for herself! Oh yes, they’ve got her herestill—locked up with a police matron in her bedroom. But before we ask her a question or two,I’ve got something to say that you’d better hear first.
“When that girl came to me she was full of drugs.”
“And he gave them to her!” shouted Restarick. “That degenerate2, miserable3 boy.”
“He started her on them, no doubt.”
“Thank God,” said Restarick. “Thank God for it.”
“What are you thanking God for?”
“I misunderstood you. I thought you were going to throw her to the lions when you kept harpingon her being sane. I misjudged you. It was the drugs that did it. Drugs that made her do things shewould never have done of her own volition4, and left her with no knowledge of having done them.”
Stillingfleet raised his voice:
“If you let me talk instead of talking so much yourself, and being so sure you know all abouteverything, we might get on a bit. First of all, she’s not an addict5. There are no marks ofinjections. She didn’t sniff6 snow. Someone or other, perhaps the boy, perhaps someone else, wasadministering drugs to her without her knowledge. Not just a purple heart or two in the modernfashion. A rather interesting medley7 of drugs—LSD giving vivid dream sequences—nightmares orpleasurable. Hemp8 distorting the time factor, so that she might believe an experience has lasted anhour instead of a few minutes. And a good many other curious substances that I have no intentionof letting any of you know about. Somebody who was clever with drugs played merry hell withthat girl. Stimulants9, sedatives10, they all played their part in controlling her, and showing her toherself as a completely different person.”
Restarick interrupted: “That’s what I say. Norma wasn’t responsible! Someone was hypnotisingher to do these things.”
“You still haven’t got the point! Nobody could make the girl do what she didn’t want to do!
What they could do, was make her think she had done it. Now we’ll have her in and make her seewhat’s been happening to her.”
He looked inquiringly at Chief Inspector12 Neele, who nodded.
Stillingfleet spoke13 over his shoulder to Claudia, as he went out of the sitting room. “Where’dyou put that other girl, the one you took away from Jacobs, gave a sedative11 to? In her room on herbed? Better shake her up a bit, and drag her along, somehow. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Claudia also went out of the sitting room.
Stillingfleet came back, propelling Norma, and uttering rough encouragement.
“There’s a good girl…Nobody’s going to bite you. Sit there.”
She sat obediently. Her docility14 was still rather frightening.
The policewoman hovered15 by the door looking scandalised.
“All I’m asking you to do is to speak the truth. It isn’t nearly as difficult as you think.”
Claudia came in with Frances Cary. Frances was yawning heavily. Her black hair hung like acurtain hiding half her mouth as she yawned and yawned again.
“You need a pick-me-up,” said Stillingfleet to her.
“I wish you’d all let me go to sleep,” murmured Frances indistinctly.
“Nobody’s going to have a chance of sleep until I’ve done with them! Now, Norma, you answermy questions—That woman along the passage says you admitted to her that you killed DavidBaker. Is that right?”
Her docile17 voice said:
“Yes. I killed David.”
“Stabbed him?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know you did?”
She looked faintly puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean. He was there on the floor—dead.”
“Where was the knife?”
“I picked it up.”
“It had blood on it?”
“Yes. And on his shirt.”
“What did it feel like—the blood on the knife? The blood that you got on your hand and had towash off—Wet? Or more like strawberry jam?”
“It was like strawberry jam—sticky.” She shivered. “I had to go and wash it off my hands.”
“Very sensible. Well, that ties up everything very nicely. Victim, murderer—you—all completewith the weapon. Do you remember actually doing it?”
“No…I don’t remember that…But I must have done it, mustn’t I?”
“Don’t ask me! I wasn’t there. It’s you are the one who’s saying it. But there was another killingbefore that, wasn’t there? An earlier killing18.”
“You mean—Louise?”
“Yes. I mean Louise…When did you first think of killing her?”
“Years ago. Oh, years ago.”
“When you were a child.”
“Yes.”
“Had to wait a long time, didn’t you?”
“I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Until you saw her again and recognised her?”
“Yes.”
“When you were a child, you hated her. Why?”
“Because she took Father, my father, away.”
“And made your mother unhappy?”
“Mother hated Louise. She said Louise was a really wicked woman.”
“Talked to you about her a lot, I suppose?”
“Yes. I wish she hadn’t…I didn’t want to go on hearing about her.”
“Monotonous—I know. Hate isn’t creative. When you saw her again did you really want to killher?”
Norma seemed to consider. A faintly interested look came into her face.
“I didn’t, really, you know…It seemed all so long ago. I couldn’t imagine myself—that’s why—”
“Why you weren’t sure you had?”
“Yes. I had some quite wild idea that I hadn’t killed her at all. That it had been all a dream. Thatperhaps she really had thrown herself out of the window.”
“Well—why not?”
“Because I knew I had done it—I said I had done it.”
“You said you had done it? Who did you say that to?”
Norma shook her head. “I mustn’t…It was someone who tried to be kind—to help me. She saidshe was going to pretend to have known nothing about it.” She went on, the words coming fastand excitedly: “I was outside Louise’s door, the door of 76, just coming out of it. I thought I’dbeen walking in my sleep. They—she—said there had been an accident. Down in the courtyard.
She kept telling me it had been nothing to do with me. Nobody would ever know—And I couldn’tremember what I had done—but there was stuff in my hand—”
“Stuff? What stuff? Do you mean blood?”
“No, not blood—torn curtain stuff. When I’d pushed her out.”
“You remember pushing her out, do you?”
“No, no. That’s what was so awful. I didn’t remember anything. That’s why I hoped. That’swhy I went—” She turned her head towards Poirot—“to him—”
She turned back again to Stillingfleet.
“I never remembered the things I’d done, none of them. But I got more and more frightened.
Because there used to be quite long times that were blank—quite blank—hours I couldn’t accountfor, or remember where I’d been and what I’d been doing. But I found things—things I must havehidden away myself. Mary was being poisoned by me, they found out she was being poisoned atthe hospital. And I found the weed killer19 I’d hidden away in the drawer. In the flat here there was aflick-knife. And I had a revolver that I didn’t even know I’d bought! I did kill people, but I didn’tremember killing them, so I’m not really a murderer—I’m just—mad! I realised that at last. I’mmad, and I can’t help it. People can’t blame you if you do things when you are mad. If I couldcome here and even kill David, it shows I am mad, doesn’t it?”
“You’d like to be mad, very much?”
“I—yes, I suppose so.”
“If so, why did you confess to someone that you had killed a woman by pushing her out of thewindow? Who was it you told?”
Norma turned her head, hesitated. Then raised her hand and pointed20.
“I told Claudia.”
“That is absolutely untrue.” Claudia looked at her scornfully. “You never said anything of thekind to me!”
“I did. I did.”
“When? Where?”
“I—don’t know.”
“She told me that she had confessed it all to you,” said Frances indistinctly. “Frankly, I thoughtshe was hysterical21 and making the whole thing up.”
Stillingfleet looked across at Poirot.
“She could be making it all up,” he said judicially22. “There is quite a case for that solution. But ifso, we would have to find the motive23, a strong motive, for her desiring the death of those twopeople, Louise Carpenter and David Baker16. A childish hate? Forgotten and done with years ago?
Nonsense. David—just to be ‘free of him?’ It is not for that that girls kill! We want better motivesthan that. A whacking24 great lot of money—say!—Greed!” He looked round him and his voicechanged to a conventional tone.
“We want a little more help. There’s still one person missing. Your wife is a long time joiningus here, Mr. Restarick?”
“I can’t think where Mary can be. I’ve rung up. Claudia has left messages in every place we canthink of. By now she ought to have rung up at least from somewhere.”
“Perhaps we have the wrong idea,” said Hercule Poirot. “Perhaps Madame is at least partly herealready—in a manner of speaking.”
“What on earth do you mean?” shouted Restarick angrily.
“Might I trouble you, chère Madame?”
Poirot leaned towards Mrs. Oliver. Mrs. Oliver stared.
“The parcel I entrusted25 to you—”
“Oh.” Mrs. Oliver dived into her shopping bag. She handed the black folder26 to him.
He heard a sharply indrawn breath near him, but did not turn his head.
He shook off the wrappings delicately and held up—a wig27 of bouffant28 golden hair.
“Mrs. Restarick is not here,” he said, “but her wig is. Interesting.”
“Where the devil did you get that, Poirot?” asked Neele.
“From the overnight bag of Miss Frances Cary from which she had as yet no opportunity ofremoving it. Shall we see how it becomes her?”
With a single deft29 movement, he swept aside the black hair that masked Frances’s face soeffectively. Crowned with a golden aureole before she could defend herself, she glared at them.
Mrs. Oliver exclaimed:
“Good gracious—it is Mary Restarick.”
Frances was twisting like an angry snake. Restarick jumped from his seat to come to her—butNeele’s strong grip restrained him.
“No. We don’t want any violence from you. The game’s up, you know, Mr. Restarick—or shallI call you Robert Orwell—”
A stream of profanity came from the man’s lips. Frances’s voice was raised sharply:
“Shut up, you damned fool!” she said.
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收听单词发音
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1
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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addict
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| v.使沉溺；使上瘾；n.沉溺于不良嗜好的人 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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7
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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hemp
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| n.大麻；纤维 | |
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stimulants
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| n.兴奋剂( stimulant的名词复数 )；含兴奋剂的饮料；刺激物；激励物 | |
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10
sedatives
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| n.镇静药，镇静剂( sedative的名词复数 ) | |
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11
sedative
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| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
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12
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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13
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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docility
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| n.容易教，易驾驶，驯服 | |
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15
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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16
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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18
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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judicially
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| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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whacking
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| adj.（用于强调）巨大的v.重击，使劲打( whack的现在分词 ) | |
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25
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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folder
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| n.纸夹，文件夹 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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bouffant
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| adj.（发式、裙子等）向外胀起的 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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