I hardly thought it likely that Mrs. Price Ridley had anything so dramatic in view, but I did wonder what had taken herto the police station. Had she really got evidence of importance, or that she thought of importance, to offer? At anyrate, we should soon know.
We found Mrs. Price Ridley talking at a high rate of speed to a somewhat bewildered-looking police constable1.
That she was extremely indignant I knew from the way the bow in her hat was trembling. Mrs. Price Ridley wearswhat, I believe, are known as “Hats for Matrons”—they make a speciality of them in our adjacent town of MuchBenham. They perch2 easily on a superstructure of hair and are somewhat overweighted with large bows of ribbon.
Griselda is always threatening to get a matron’s hat.
Mrs. Price Ridley paused in her flow of words upon our entrance.
“Mrs. Price Ridley?” inquired Colonel Melchett, lifting his hat.
“Let me introduce Colonel Melchett to you, Mrs. Price Ridley,” I said. “Colonel Melchett is our Chief Constable.”
Mrs. Price Ridley looked at me coldly, but produced the semblance3 of a gracious smile for the Colonel.
“We’ve just been round to your house, Mrs. Price Ridley,” explained the Colonel, “and heard you had come downhere.”
Mrs. Price Ridley thawed4 altogether.
“Ah!” she said, “I’m glad some notice is being taken of the occurrence. Disgraceful, I call it. Simply disgraceful.”
There is no doubt that murder is disgraceful, but it is not the word I should use to describe it myself. It surprisedMelchett too, I could see.
“Have you any light to throw upon the matter?” he asked.
“That’s your business. It’s the business of the police. What do we pay rates and taxes for, I should like to know?”
One wonders how many times that query5 is uttered in a year!
“We’re doing our best, Mrs. Price Ridley,” said the Chief Constable.
“But the man here hadn’t even heard of it till I told him about it!” cried the lady.
We all looked at the constable.
“Lady been rung up on the telephone,” he said. “Annoyed. Matter of obscene language, I understand.”
“Oh! I see.” The Colonel’s brow cleared. “We’ve been talking at cross purposes. You came down here to make acomplaint, did you?”
Melchett is a wise man. He knows that when it is a question of an irate6 middle-aged7 lady, there is only one thing tobe done—listen to her. When she had said all that she wants to say, there is a chance that she will listen to you.
Mrs. Price Ridley surged into speech.
“Such disgraceful occurrences ought to be prevented. They ought not to occur. To be rung up in one’s own houseand insulted—yes, insulted. I’m not accustomed to such things happening. Ever since the war there has been aloosening of moral fibre. Nobody minds what they say, and as to the clothes they wear—”
“Quite,” said Colonel Melchett hastily. “What happened exactly?”
Mrs. Price Ridley took breath and started again.
“I was rung up—”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon—evening to be exact. About half past six. I went to the telephone, suspecting nothing.
Immediately I was foully8 attacked, threatened—”
“What actually was said?”
Mrs. Price Ridley got slightly pink.
“That I decline to state.”
“Obscene language,” murmured the constable in a ruminative9 bass10.
“Was bad language used?” asked Colonel Melchett.
“It depends on what you call bad language.”
“Could you understand it?” I asked.
“Of course I could understand it.”
“Then it couldn’t have been bad language,” I said.
Mrs. Price Ridley looked at me suspiciously.
“A refined lady,” I explained, “is naturally unacquainted with bad language.”
“It wasn’t that kind of thing,” said Mrs. Price Ridley. “At first, I must admit, I was quite taken in. I thought it was agenuine message. Then the—er—person became abusive.”
“Abusive?”
“Most abusive. I was quite alarmed.”
“Used threatening language, eh?”
“Yes. I am not accustomed to being threatened.”
“What did they threaten you with? Bodily damage?”
“Not exactly.”
“I’m afraid, Mrs. Price Ridley, you must be more explicit11. In what way were you threatened?”
This Mrs. Price Ridley seemed singularly reluctant to answer.
“I can’t remember exactly. It was all so upsetting. But right at the end—when I was really very upset, this—this—wretch laughed.”
“Was it a man’s voice or a woman’s?”
“It was a degenerate12 voice,” said Mrs. Price Ridley, with dignity. “I can only describe it as a kind of pervertedvoice. Now gruff, now squeaky. Really a very peculiar13 voice.”
“Probably a practical joke,” said the Colonel soothingly14.
“A most wicked thing to do, if so. I might have had a heart attack.”
“We’ll look into it,” said the Colonel; “eh, Inspector15? Trace the telephone call. You can’t tell me more definitelyexactly what was said, Mrs. Price Ridley?”
A struggle began in Mrs. Price Ridley’s ample black bosom16. The desire for reticence17 fought against a desire forvengeance. Vengeance18 triumphed.
“This, of course, will go no further,” she began.
“Of course not.”
“This creature began by saying—I can hardly bring myself to repeat it—”
“Yes, yes,” said Melchett encouragingly.
“‘You are a wicked scandal-mongering old woman!’ Me, Colonel Melchett—a scandal-mongering old woman.
‘But this time you’ve gone too far. Scotland Yard are after you for libel.’”
“Naturally, you were alarmed,” said Melchett, biting his moustache to conceal19 a smile.
“‘Unless you hold your tongue in future, it will be the worse for you—in more ways than one.’ I can’t describe toyou the menacing way that was said. I gasped20, ‘who are you?’ faintly—like that, and the voice answered, ‘TheAvenger.’ I gave a little shriek21. It sounded so awful, and then—the person laughed. Laughed! Distinctly. And that wasall. I heard them hang up the receiver. Of course I asked the exchange what number had been ringing me up, but theysaid they didn’t know. You know what exchanges are. Thoroughly22 rude and unsympathetic.”
“Quite,” I said.
“I felt quite faint,” continued Mrs. Price Ridley. “All on edge and so nervous that when I heard a shot in the woods,I do declare I jumped almost out of my skin. That will show you.”
“A shot in the woods?” said Inspector Slack alertly.
“In my excited state, it simply sounded to me like a cannon23 going off. ‘Oh!’ I said, and sank down on the sofa in astate of prostration24. Clara had to bring me a glass of damson gin.”
“Shocking,” said Melchett. “Shocking. All very trying for you. And the shot sounded very loud, you say? Asthough it were near at hand?”
“That was simply the state of my nerves.”
“Of course. Of course. And what time was all this? To help us in tracing the telephone call, you know.”
“About half past six.”
“You can’t give it us more exactly than that?”
“Well, you see, the little clock on my mantelpiece had just chimed the half hour, and I said, ‘Surely that clock isfast.’ (It does gain, that clock.) And I compared it with the watch I was wearing and that only said ten minutes past,but then I put it to my ear and found it had stopped. So I thought: ‘Well, if that clock is fast, I shall hear the churchtower in a moment or two.’ And then, of course, the telephone bell rang, and I forgot all about it.” She pausedbreathless.
“Well, that’s near enough,” said Colonel Melchett. “We’ll have it looked into for you, Mrs. Price Ridley.”
“Just think of it as a silly joke, and don’t worry, Mrs. Price Ridley,” I said.
She looked at me coldly. Evidently the incident of the pound note still rankled25.
“Very strange things have been happening in this village lately,” she said, addressing herself to Melchett. “Verystrange things indeed. Colonel Protheroe was going to look into them, and what happened to him, poor man? Perhaps Ishall be the next?”
And on that she took her departure, shaking her head with a kind of ominous26 melancholy27. Melchett muttered underhis breath: “No such luck.” Then his face grew grave, and he looked inquiringly at Inspector Slack.
That worthy28 nodded his head slowly.
“This about settles it, sir. That’s three people who heard the shot. We’ve got to find out now who fired it. Thisbusiness of Mr. Redding’s has delayed us. But we’ve got several starting points. Thinking Mr. Redding was guilty, Ididn’t bother to look into them. But that’s all changed now. And now one of the first things to do is look up thattelephone call.”
“Mrs. Price Ridley’s?”
The Inspector grinned.
“No—though I suppose we’d better make a note of that or else we shall have the old girl bothering in here again.
No, I meant that fake call that got the Vicar out of the way.”
“Yes,” said Melchett, “that’s important.”
“And the next thing is to find out what everyone was doing that evening between six and seven. Everyone at OldHall, I mean, and pretty well everyone in the village as well.”
I gave a sigh.
“What wonderful energy you have, Inspector Slack.”
“I believe in hard work. We’ll begin by just noting down your own movements, Mr. Clement29.”
“Willingly. The telephone call came through about half past five.”
“A man’s voice, or a woman’s?”
“A woman’s. At least it sounded like a woman’s. But of course I took it for granted it was Mrs. Abbott speaking.”
“You didn’t recognize it as being Mrs. Abbott’s?”
“No, I can’t say I did. I didn’t notice the voice particularly or think about it.”
“And you started right away? Walked? Haven’t you got a bicycle?”
“No.”
“I see. So it took you—how long?”
“It’s very nearly two miles, whichever way you go.”
“Through Old Hall woods is the shortest way, isn’t it?”
“Actually, yes. But it’s not particularly good going. I went and came back by the footpath30 across the fields.”
“The one that comes out opposite the Vicarage gate?”
“Yes.”
“And Mrs. Clement?”
“My wife was in London. She arrived back by the 6:50 train.”
“Right. The maid I’ve seen. That finishes with the Vicarage. I’ll be off to Old Hall next. And then I want aninterview with Mrs. Lestrange. Queer, her going to see Protheroe the night before he was killed. A lot of queer thingsabout this case.”
I agreed.
Glancing at the clock, I realized that it was nearly lunchtime. I invited Melchett to partake of potluck with us, buthe excused himself on the plea of having to go to the Blue Boar. The Blue Boar gives you a first-rate meal of the jointand two-vegetable type. I thought his choice was a wise one. After her interview with the police, Mary would probablybe feeling more temperamental than usual.
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1
constable
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n.(英国)警察,警官 | |
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2
perch
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n.栖木,高位,杆;v.栖息,就位,位于 | |
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3
semblance
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n.外貌,外表 | |
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4
thawed
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解冻 | |
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5
query
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n.疑问,问号,质问;vt.询问,表示怀疑 | |
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irate
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adj.发怒的,生气 | |
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middle-aged
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adj.中年的 | |
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8
foully
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ad.卑鄙地 | |
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9
ruminative
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adj.沉思的,默想的,爱反复思考的 | |
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10
bass
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n.男低音(歌手);低音乐器;低音大提琴 | |
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11
explicit
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adj.详述的,明确的;坦率的;显然的 | |
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12
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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13
peculiar
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adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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14
soothingly
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adv.抚慰地,安慰地;镇痛地 | |
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15
inspector
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n.检查员,监察员,视察员 | |
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16
bosom
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n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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17
reticence
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n.沉默,含蓄 | |
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18
vengeance
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n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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19
conceal
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v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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20
gasped
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v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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21
shriek
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v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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22
thoroughly
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adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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23
cannon
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n.大炮,火炮;飞机上的机关炮 | |
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24
prostration
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n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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25
rankled
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v.(使)痛苦不已,(使)怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
ominous
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adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
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27
melancholy
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n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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28
worthy
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adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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29
clement
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adj.仁慈的;温和的 | |
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30
footpath
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n.小路,人行道 | |
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