A s I went out I ran into Haydock on the doorstep. He glanced sharply after Slack, who was just passing through thegate, and demanded: “Has he been questioning her?”
“Yes.”
“He’s been civil, I hope?”
Civility, to my mind, is an art which Inspector1 Slack has never learnt, but I presumed that according to his ownlights, civil he had been, and anyway, I didn’t want to upset Haydock any further. He was looking worried and upsetas it was. So I said he had been quite civil.
Haydock nodded and passed on into the house, and I went on down the village street, where I soon caught up to theinspector. I fancy that he was walking slowly on purpose. Much as he dislikes me, he is not the man to let dislike standin the way of acquiring any useful information.
“Do you know anything about the lady?” he asked me point blank.
I said I knew nothing whatever.
“She’s never said anything about why she came here to live?”
“No.”
“Yet you go and see her?”
“It is one of my duties to call on my parishioners,” I replied, evading2 to remark that I had been sent for.
“H’m, I suppose it is.” He was silent for a minute or two and then, unable to resist discussing his recent failure, hewent on: “Fishy business, it looks to me.”
“You think so?”
“If you ask me, I say ‘blackmail.’ Seems funny, when you think of what Colonel Protheroe was always supposed tobe. But there, you never can tell. He wouldn’t be the first churchwarden who’d led a double life.”
Faint remembrances of Miss Marple’s remarks on the same subject floated through my mind.
“You really think that’s likely?”
“Well, it fits the facts, sir. Why did a smart, well-dressed lady come down to this quiet little hole? Why did she goand see him at that funny time of day? Why did she avoid seeing Mrs. and Miss Protheroe? Yes, it all hangs together.
Awkward for her to admit—blackmail’s a punishable offence. But we’ll get the truth out of her. For all we know itmay have a very important bearing on the case. If Colonel Protheroe had some guilty secret in his life—somethingdisgraceful—well, you can see for yourself what a field it opens up.”
I suppose it did.
“I’ve been trying to get the butler to talk. He might have overheard some of the conversation between ColonelProtheroe and Lestrange. Butlers do sometimes. But he swears he hasn’t the least idea of what the conversation wasabout. By the way, he got the sack through it. The Colonel went for him, being angry at his having let her in. Thebutler retorted by giving notice. Says he didn’t like the place anyway and had been thinking of leaving for some time.”
“Really.”
“So that gives us another person who had a grudge3 against the Colonel.”
“You don’t seriously suspect the man—what’s his name, by the way?”
“His name’s Reeves, and I don’t say I do suspect him. What I say is, you never know. I don’t like that soapy, oilymanner of his.”
I wonder what Reeves would say of Inspector Slack’s manner.
“I’m going to question the chauffeur4 now.”
“Perhaps, then,” I said, “you’ll give me a lift in your car. I want a short interview with Mrs. Protheroe.”
“What about?”
“The funeral arrangements.”
“Oh!” Inspector Slack was slightly taken aback. “The inquest’s tomorrow, Saturday.”
“Just so. The funeral will probably be arranged for Tuesday.”
Inspector Slack seemed to be a little ashamed of himself for his brusqueness. He held out an olive branch in theshape of an invitation to be present at the interview with the chauffeur, Manning.
Manning was a nice lad, not more than twenty-five or -six years of age. He was inclined to be awed5 by theInspector.
“Now, then, my lad,” said Slack, “I want a little information from you.”
“Yes, sir,” stammered6 the chauffeur. “Certainly, sir.”
If he had committed the murder himself he could not have been more alarmed.
“You took your master to the village yesterday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What time was that?”
“Five thirty.”
“Mrs. Protheroe went too?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You went straight to the village?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You didn’t stop anywhere on the way?”
“No, sir.”
“What did you do when you got there?”
“The Colonel got out and told me he wouldn’t want the car again. He’d walk home. Mrs. Protheroe had someshopping to do. The parcels were put in the car. Then she said that was all, and I drove home.”
“Leaving her in the village?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What time was that?”
“A quarter past six, sir. A quarter past exactly.”
“Where did you leave her?”
“By the church, sir.”
“Had the Colonel mentioned at all where he was going?”
“He said something about having to see the vet7 … something to do with one of the horses.”
“I see. And you drove straight back here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There are two entrances to Old Hall, by the South Lodge8 and by the North Lodge. I take it that going to the villageyou would go by the South Lodge?”
“Yes, sir, always.”
“And you came back the same way?”
“Yes, sir.”
“H’m. I think that’s all. Ah! Here’s Miss Protheroe.”
Lettice drifted towards us.
“I want the Fiat9, Manning,” she said. “Start her for me, will you?”
“Very good, miss.”
He went towards a two-seater and lifted the bonnet10.
“Just a minute, Miss Protheroe,” said Slack. “It’s necessary that I should have a record of everybody’s movementsyesterday afternoon. No offence meant.”
Lettice stared at him.
“I never know the time of anything,” she said.
“I understand you went out soon after lunch yesterday?”
She nodded.
“Where to, please?”
“To play tennis.”
“Who with?”
“The Hartley Napiers.”
“At Much Benham?”
“Yes.”
“And you returned?”
“I don’t know. I tell you I never know these things.”
“You returned,” I said, “about seven thirty.”
“That’s right,” said Lettice. “In the middle of the shemozzle. Anne having fits and Griselda supporting her.”
“Thank you, miss,” said the Inspector. “That’s all I want to know.”
“How queer,” said Lettice. “It seems so uninteresting.”
She moved towards the Fiat.
The Inspector touched his forehead in a surreptitious manner.
“A bit wanting?” he suggested.
“Not in the least,” I said. “But she likes to be thought so.”
“Well, I’m off to question the maids now.”
One cannot really like Slack, but one can admire his energy.
We parted company and I inquired of Reeves if I could see Mrs. Protheroe. “She is lying down, sir, at themoment.”
“Then I’d better not disturb her.”
“Perhaps if you would wait, sir, I know that Mrs. Protheroe is anxious to see you. She was saying as much atluncheon.”
He showed me into the drawing room, switching on the electric lights since the blinds were down.
“A very sad business all this,” I said.
“Yes, sir.” His voice was cold and respectful.
I looked at him. What feelings were at work under that impassive demeanour. Were there things that he knew andcould have told us? There is nothing so inhuman11 as the mask of the good servant.
“Is there anything more, sir?”
Was there just a hint of anxiety to be gone behind that correct expression?
“There’s nothing more,” I said.
I had a very short time to wait before Anne Protheroe came to me. We discussed and settled a few arrangementsand then:
“What a wonderfully kind man Dr. Haydock is!” she exclaimed.
“Haydock is the best fellow I know.”
“He has been amazingly kind to me. But he looks very sad, doesn’t he?”
It had never occurred to me to think of Haydock as sad. I turned the idea over in my mind.
“I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it,” I said at last.
“I never have, until today.”
“One’s own troubles sharpen one’s eyes sometimes,” I said.
“That’s very true.” She paused and then said:
“Mr. Clement12, there’s one thing I absolutely cannot make out. If my husband were shot immediately after I lefthim, how was it that I didn’t hear the shot?”
“They have reason to believe that the shot was fired later.”
“But the 6:20 on the note?”
“Was possibly added by a different hand—the murderer’s.”
Her cheek paled.
“It didn’t strike you that the date was not in his handwriting?”
“How horrible!”
“None of it looked like his handwriting.”
There was some truth in this observation. It was a somewhat illegible13 scrawl14, not so precise as Protheroe’s writingusually was.
“You are sure they don’t still suspect Lawrence?”
“I think he is definitely cleared.”
“But, Mr. Clement, who can it be? Lucius was not popular, I know, but I don’t think he had any real enemies. Not—not that kind of enemy.”
I shook my head. “It’s a mystery.”
I thought wonderingly of Miss Marple’s seven suspects. Who could they be?
After I took leave of Anne, I proceeded to put a certain plan of mine into action.
I returned from Old Hall by way of the private path. When I reached the stile, I retraced15 my steps, and choosing aplace where I fancied the undergrowth showed signs of being disturbed, I turned aside from the path and forced myway through the bushes. The wood was a thick one, with a good deal of tangled16 undergrowth. My progress was notvery fast, and I suddenly became aware that someone else was moving amongst the bushes not very far from me. As Ipaused irresolutely18, Lawrence Redding came into sight. He was carrying a large stone.
I suppose I must have looked surprised, for he suddenly burst out laughing.
“No,” he said, “it’s not a clue, it’s a peace offering.”
“A peace offering?”
“Well, a basis for negotiations19, shall we say? I want an excuse for calling on your neighbour, Miss Marple, and Ihave been told there is nothing she likes so much as a nice bit of rock or stone for the Japanese gardens she makes.”
“Quite true,” I said. “But what do you want with the old lady?”
“Just this. If there was anything to be seen yesterday evening Miss Marple saw it. I don’t mean anythingnecessarily connected with the crime—that she would think connected with the crime. I mean some outré or bizarreincident, some simple little happening that might give us a clue to the truth. Something that she wouldn’t thinkworthwhile mentioning to the police.”
“It’s possible, I suppose.”
“It’s worth trying anyhow. Clement, I’m going to get to the bottom of this business. For Anne’s sake, if nobody’selse. And I haven’t any too much confidence in Slack—he’s a zealous20 fellow, but zeal21 can’t really take the place ofbrains.”
“I see,” I said, “that you are that favourite character of fiction, the amateur detective. I don’t know that they reallyhold their own with the professional in real life.”
He looked at me shrewdly and suddenly laughed.
“What are you doing in the wood, padre?”
I had the grace to blush.
“Just the same as I am doing, I dare swear. We’ve got the same idea, haven’t we? How did the murderer come tothe study? First way, along the lane and through the gate, second way, by the front door, third way—is there a thirdway? My idea was to see if there was any sign of the bushes being disturbed or broken anywhere near the wall of theVicarage garden.”
“That was just my idea,” I admitted.
“I hadn’t really got down to the job, though,” continued Lawrence. “Because it occurred to me that I’d like to seeMiss Marple first, to make quite sure that no one did pass along the lane yesterday evening whilst we were in thestudio.”
I shook my head.
“She was quite positive that nobody did.”
“Yes, nobody whom she would call anybody—sounds mad, but you see what I mean. But there might have beensomeone like a postman or a milkman or a butcher’s boy—someone whose presence would be so natural that youwouldn’t think of mentioning it.”
“You’ve been reading G. K. Chesterton,” I said, and Lawrence did not deny it.
“But don’t you think there’s just possibly something in the idea?”
“Well, I suppose there might be,” I admitted.
Without further ado, we made our way to Miss Marple’s. She was working in the garden, and called out to us as weclimbed over the stile.
“You see,” murmured Lawrence, “she sees everybody.”
She received us very graciously and was much pleased with Lawrence’s immense rock, which he presented with alldue solemnity.
“It’s very thoughtful of you, Mr. Redding. Very thoughtful indeed.”
Emboldened22 by this, Lawrence embarked23 on his questions. Miss Marple listened attentively24.
“Yes, I see what you mean, and I quite agree, it is the sort of thing no one mentions or bothers to mention. But Ican assure you that there was nothing of the kind. Nothing whatever.”
“You are sure, Miss Marple?”
“Quite sure.”
“Did you see anyone go by the path into the wood that afternoon?” I asked. “Or come from it?”
“Oh, yes, quite a number of people. Dr. Stone and Miss Cram25 went that way—it’s the nearest way to the barrow forthem. That was a little after two o’clock. And Dr. Stone returned that way—as you know, Mr. Redding, since hejoined you and Mrs. Protheroe.”
“By the way,” I said. “That shot—the one you heard, Miss Marple. Mr. Redding and Mrs. Protheroe must haveheard it too.”
I looked inquiringly at Lawrence.
“Yes,” he said, frowning. “I believe I did hear some shots. Weren’t there one or two shots?”
“I only heard one,” said Miss Marple.
“It’s only the vaguest impression in my mind,” said Lawrence. “Curse it all, I wish I could remember. If only I’dknown. You see, I was so completely taken up with—with—”
He paused, embarrassed.
I gave a tactful cough. Miss Marple, with a touch of prudishness, changed the subject.
“Inspector Slack has been trying to get me to say whether I heard the shot after Mr. Redding and Mrs. Protheroehad left the studio or before. I’ve had to confess that I really could not say definitely, but I have the impression—which is growing stronger the more I think about it—that it was after.”
“Then that lets the celebrated26 Dr. Stone out anyway,” said Lawrence, with a sigh. “Not that there has ever been theslightest reason why he should be suspected of shooting poor old Protheroe.”
“Ah!” said Miss Marple. “But I always find it prudent27 to suspect everybody just a little. What I say is, you reallynever know, do you?”
This was typical of Miss Marple. I asked Lawrence if he agreed with her about the shot.
“I really can’t say. You see, it was such an ordinary sound. I should be inclined to think it had been fired when wewere in the studio. The sound would have been deadened and—one would have noticed it less there.”
For other reasons than the sound being deadened, I thought to myself.
“I must ask Anne,” said Lawrence. “She may remember. By the way, there seems to me to be one curious fact thatneeds explanation. Mrs. Lestrange, the Mystery Lady of St. Mary Mead28, paid a visit to old Protheroe after dinner onWednesday night. And nobody seems to have any idea what it was all about. Old Protheroe said nothing to either hiswife or Lettice.”
“Perhaps the Vicar knows,” said Miss Marple.
Now how did the woman know that I had been to visit Mrs. Lestrange that afternoon? The way she always knowsthings is uncanny.
I shook my head and said I could throw no light upon the matter.
“What does Inspector Slack think?” asked Miss Marple.
“He’s done his best to bully29 the butler—but apparently30 the butler wasn’t curious enough to listen at the door. Sothere it is—no one knows.”
“I expect someone overheard something, though, don’t you?” said Miss Marple. “I mean, somebody always does. Ithink that is where Mr. Redding may find out something.”
“But Mrs. Protheroe knows nothing.”
“I didn’t mean Anne Protheroe,” said Miss Marple. “I meant the women servants. They do so hate telling anythingto the police. But a nice looking young man—you’ll excuse me, Mr. Redding—and one who has been unjustlysuspected—oh! I’m sure they’d tell him at once.”
“I’ll go and have a try this evening,” said Lawrence with vigour31. “Thanks for the hint, Miss Marple. I’ll go after—well, after a little job the Vicar and I are going to do.”
It occurred to me that we had better be getting on with it. I said good-bye to Miss Marple and we entered the woodsonce more.
First we went up the path till we came to a new spot where it certainly looked as though someone had left the pathon the right-hand side. Lawrence explained that he had already followed this particular trail and found it led nowhere,but he added that we might as well try again. He might have been wrong.
It was, however, as he had said. After about ten or twelve yards any sign of broken and trampled32 leaves peteredout. It was from this spot that Lawrence had broken back towards the path to meet me earlier in the afternoon.
We emerged on the path again and walked a little farther along it. Again we came to a place where the bushesseemed disturbed. The signs were very slight but, I thought, unmistakable. This time the trail was more promising33. Bya devious34 course, it wound steadily35 nearer to the Vicarage. Presently we arrived at where the bushes grew thickly up tothe wall. The wall is a high one and ornamented36 with fragments of broken bottles on the top. If anyone had placed aladder against it, we ought to find traces of their passage.
We were working our way slowly along the wall when a sound came to our ears of a breaking twig37. I pressedforward, forcing my way through a thick tangle17 of shrubs—and came face to face with Inspector Slack.
“So it’s you,” he said. “And Mr. Redding. Now what do you think you two gentlemen are doing?”
Slightly crestfallen38, we explained.
“Quite so,” said the Inspector. “Not being the fools we’re usually thought to be, I had the same idea myself. I’vebeen here over an hour. Would you like to know something?”
“Yes,” I said meekly39.
“Whoever murdered Colonel Protheroe didn’t come this way to do it! There’s not a sign either on this side of thewall, nor the other. Whoever murdered Colonel Protheroe came through the front door. There’s no other way he couldhave come.”
“Impossible,” I cried.
“Why impossible? Your door stands open. Anyone’s only got to walk in. They can’t be seen from the kitchen.
They know you’re safely out of the way, they know Mrs. Clement is in London, they know Mr. Dennis is at a tennisparty. Simple as A B C. And they don’t need to go or come through the village. Just opposite the Vicarage gate is apublic footpath40, and from it you can turn into these same woods and come out whichever way you choose. UnlessMrs. Price Ridley were to come out of her front gate at that particular minute, it’s all clear sailing. A great deal moreso than climbing over walls. The side windows of the upper story of Mrs. Price Ridley’s house do overlook most ofthat wall. No, depend upon it, that’s the way he came.”
It really seemed as though he must be right.
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收听单词发音
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1
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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4
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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5
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
vet
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| n.兽医，退役军人；vt.检查 | |
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8
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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9
fiat
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| n.命令，法令，批准；vt.批准，颁布 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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12
clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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13
illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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14
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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15
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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16
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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cram
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| v.填塞，塞满，临时抱佛脚，为考试而学习 | |
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celebrated
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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