IM rs. Bantry was dreaming. Her sweet peas had just taken a First at the flower show. The vicar, dressed in cassockand surplice, was giving out the prizes in church. His wife wandered past, dressed in a bathing suit, but as is theblessed habit of dreams this fact did not arouse the disapproval1 of the parish in the way it would assuredly have donein real life….
Mrs. Bantry was enjoying her dream a good deal. She usually did enjoy those early-morning dreams that wereterminated by the arrival of early-morning tea. Somewhere in her inner consciousness was an awareness2 of the usualearly-morning noises of the household. The rattle3 of the curtain rings on the stairs as the housemaid drew them, thenoises of the second housemaid’s dustpan and brush in the passage outside. In the distance the heavy noise of thefront-door bolt being drawn4 back.
Another day was beginning. In the meantime she must extract as much pleasure as possible from the flower show—for already its dream-like quality was becoming apparent….
Below her was the noise of the big wooden shutters5 in the drawing room being opened. She heard it, yet did nothear it. For quite half an hour longer the usual household noises would go on, discreet6, subdued7, not disturbingbecause they were so familiar. They would culminate8 in a swift, controlled sound of footsteps along the passage, therustle of a print dress, the subdued chink of tea things as the tray was deposited on the table outside, then the softknock and the entry of Mary to draw the curtains.
In her sleep Mrs. Bantry frowned. Something disturbing was penetrating9 through to the dream state, something outof its time. Footsteps along the passage, footsteps that were too hurried and too soon. Her ears listened unconsciouslyfor the chink of china, but there was no chink of china.
The knock came at the door. Automatically from the depths of her dreams Mrs. Bantry said: “Come in.” The dooropened—now there would be the chink of curtain rings as the curtains were drawn back.
But there was no chink of curtain rings. Out of the dim green light Mary’s voice came—breathless, hysterical10: “Oh,ma’am, oh, ma’am, there’s a body in the library.”
And then with a hysterical burst of sobs11 she rushed out of the room again.
II
Mrs. Bantry sat up in bed.
Either her dream had taken a very odd turn or else—or else Mary had really rushed into the room and had said(incredible! fantastic!) that there was a body in the library.
“Impossible,” said Mrs. Bantry to herself. “I must have been dreaming.”
But even as she said it, she felt more and more certain that she had not been dreaming, that Mary, her superior self-controlled Mary, had actually uttered those fantastic words.
Mrs. Bantry reflected a minute and then applied12 an urgent conjugal13 elbow to her sleeping spouse14.
“Arthur, Arthur, wake up.”
Colonel Bantry grunted15, muttered, and rolled over on his side.
“Wake up, Arthur. Did you hear what she said?”
“Very likely,” said Colonel Bantry indistinctly. “I quite agree with you, Dolly,” and promptly16 went to sleep again.
Mrs. Bantry shook him.
“You’ve got to listen. Mary came in and said that there was a body in the library.”
“Eh, what?”
“A body in the library.”
“Who said so?”
“Mary.”
Colonel Bantry collected his scattered17 faculties18 and proceeded to deal with the situation. He said:
“Nonsense, old girl; you’ve been dreaming.”
“No, I haven’t. I thought so, too, at first. But I haven’t. She really came in and said so.”
“Mary came in and said there was a body in the library?”
“Yes.”
“But there couldn’t be,” said Colonel Bantry.
“No, no, I suppose not,” said Mrs. Bantry doubtfully.
Rallying, she went on:
“But then why did Mary say there was?”
“She can’t have.”
“She did.”
“You must have imagined it.”
“I didn’t imagine it.”
Colonel Bantry was by now thoroughly19 awake and prepared to deal with the situation on its merits. He said kindly20:
“You’ve been dreaming, Dolly, that’s what it is. It’s that detective story you were reading—The Clue of the BrokenMatch. You know—Lord Edgbaston finds a beautiful blonde dead on the library hearthrug. Bodies are always beingfound in libraries in books. I’ve never known a case in real life.”
“Perhaps you will now,” said Mrs. Bantry. “Anyway, Arthur, you’ve got to get up and see.”
“But really, Dolly, it must have been a dream. Dreams often do seem wonderfully vivid when you first wake up.
You feel quite sure they’re true.”
“I was having quite a different sort of dream—about a flower show and the vicar’s wife in a bathing dress—something like that.”
With a sudden burst of energy Mrs. Bantry jumped out of bed and pulled back the curtains. The light of a fineautumn day flooded the room.
“I did not dream it,” said Mrs. Bantry firmly. “Get up at once, Arthur, and go downstairs and see about it.”
“You want me to go downstairs and ask if there’s a body in the library? I shall look a damned fool.”
“You needn’t ask anything,” said Mrs. Bantry. “If there is a body—and of course it’s just possible that Mary’sgone mad and thinks she sees things that aren’t there—well, somebody will tell you soon enough. You won’t have tosay a word.”
Grumbling21, Colonel Bantry wrapped himself in his dressing22 gown and left the room. He went along the passageand down the staircase. At the foot of it was a little knot of huddled23 servants; some of them were sobbing24. The butlerstepped forward impressively.
“I’m glad you have come, sir. I have directed that nothing should be done until you came. Will it be in order for meto ring up the police, sir?”
“Ring ’em up about what?”
The butler cast a reproachful glance over his shoulder at the tall young woman who was weeping hysterically25 onthe cook’s shoulder.
“I understood, sir, that Mary had already informed you. She said she had done so.”
Mary gasped26 out:
“I was so upset I don’t know what I said. It all came over me again and my legs gave way and my inside turnedover. Finding it like that—oh, oh, oh!”
She subsided27 again on to Mrs. Eccles, who said: “There, there, my dear,” with some relish28.
“Mary is naturally somewhat upset, sir, having been the one to make the gruesome discovery,” explained thebutler. “She went into the library as usual, to draw the curtains, and—almost stumbled over the body.”
“Do you mean to tell me,” demanded Colonel Bantry, “that there’s a dead body in my library—my library?”
The butler coughed.
“Perhaps, sir, you would like to see for yourself.”
III
“Hallo, ’allo, ’allo. Police station here. Yes, who’s speaking?”
Police-Constable29 Palk was buttoning up his tunic30 with one hand while the other held the receiver.
“Yes, yes, Gossington Hall. Yes? Oh, good morning, sir.” Police- Constable Palk’s tone underwent a slightmodification. It became less impatiently official, recognizing the generous patron of the police sports and the principalmagistrate of the district.
“Yes, sir? What can I do for you?—I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t quite catch—a body, did you say?—yes?—yes, if youplease, sir—that’s right, sir—young woman not known to you, you say?—quite, sir. Yes, you can leave it all to me.”
Police- Constable Palk replaced the receiver, uttered a longdrawn whistle and proceeded to dial his superiorofficer’s number.
Mrs. Palk looked in from the kitchen whence proceeded an appetizing smell of frying bacon.
“What is it?”
“Rummest thing you ever heard of,” replied her husband. “Body of a young woman found up at the Hall. In theColonel’s library.”
“Murdered?”
“Strangled, so he says.”
“Who was she?”
“The Colonel says he doesn’t know her from Adam.”
“Then what was she doing in ’is library?”
Police-Constable Palk silenced her with a reproachful glance and spoke31 officially into the telephone.
“Inspector32 Slack? Police-Constable Palk here. A report has just come in that the body of a young woman wasdiscovered this morning at seven-fifteen—”
IV
Miss Marple’s telephone rang when she was dressing. The sound of it flurried her a little. It was an unusual hour forher telephone to ring. So well ordered was her prim33 spinster’s life that unforeseen telephone calls were a source ofvivid conjecture34.
“Dear me,” said Miss Marple, surveying the ringing instrument with perplexity. “I wonder who that can be?”
Nine o’clock to nine-thirty was the recognized time for the village to make friendly calls to neighbours. Plans forthe day, invitations and so on were always issued then. The butcher had been known to ring up just before nine if somecrisis in the meat trade had occurred. At intervals35 during the day spasmodic calls might occur, though it wasconsidered bad form to ring after nine-thirty at night. It was true that Miss Marple’s nephew, a writer, and thereforeerratic, had been known to ring up at the most peculiar36 times, once as late as ten minutes to midnight. But whateverRaymond West’s eccentricities37, early rising was not one of them. Neither he nor anyone of Miss Marple’sacquaintance would be likely to ring up before eight in the morning. Actually a quarter to eight.
Too early even for a telegram, since the post office did not open until eight.
“It must be,” Miss Marple decided38, “a wrong number.”
Having decided this, she advanced to the impatient instrument and quelled39 its clamour by picking up the receiver.
“Yes?” she said.
“Is that you, Jane?”
Miss Marple was much surprised.
“Yes, it’s Jane. You’re up very early, Dolly.”
Mrs. Bantry’s voice came breathless and agitated40 over the wires.
“The most awful thing has happened.”
“Oh, my dear.”
“We’ve just found a body in the library.”
For a moment Miss Marple thought her friend had gone mad.
“You’ve found a what?”
“I know. One doesn’t believe it, does one? I mean, I thought they only happened in books. I had to argue for hourswith Arthur this morning before he’d even go down and see.”
Miss Marple tried to collect herself. She demanded breathlessly: “But whose body is it?”
“It’s a blonde.”
“A what?”
“A blonde. A beautiful blonde—like books again. None of us have ever seen her before. She’s just lying there inthe library, dead. That’s why you’ve got to come up at once.”
“You want me to come up?”
“Yes, I’m sending the car down for you.”
Miss Marple said doubtfully:
“Of course, dear, if you think I can be of any comfort to you—”
“Oh, I don’t want comfort. But you’re so good at bodies.”
“Oh no, indeed. My little successes have been mostly theoretical.”
“But you’re very good at murders. She’s been murdered, you see, strangled. What I feel is that if one has got tohave a murder actually happening in one’s house, one might as well enjoy it, if you know what I mean. That’s why Iwant you to come and help me find out who did it and unravel41 the mystery and all that. It really is rather thrilling, isn’tit?”
“Well, of course, my dear, if I can be of any help to you.”
“Splendid! Arthur’s being rather difficult. He seems to think I shouldn’t enjoy myself about it at all. Of course, I doknow it’s very sad and all that, but then I don’t know the girl—and when you’ve seen her you’ll understand what Imean when I say she doesn’t look real at all.”
VA little breathless, Miss Marple alighted from the Bantry’s car, the door of which was held open for her by thechauffeur.
Colonel Bantry came out on the steps, and looked a little surprised.
“Miss Marple?—er—very pleased to see you.”
“Your wife telephoned to me,” explained Miss Marple.
“Capital, capital. She ought to have someone with her. She’ll crack up otherwise. She’s putting a good face onthings at the moment, but you know what it is—”
At this moment Mrs. Bantry appeared, and exclaimed:
“Do go back into the dining room and eat your breakfast, Arthur. Your bacon will get cold.”
“I thought it might be the Inspector arriving,” explained Colonel Bantry.
“He’ll be here soon enough,” said Mrs. Bantry. “That’s why it’s important to get your breakfast first. You need it.”
“So do you. Much better come and eat something. Dolly—”
“I’ll come in a minute,” said Mrs. Bantry. “Go on, Arthur.”
Colonel Bantry was shooed back into the dining room like a recalcitrant42 hen.
“Now!” said Mrs. Bantry with an intonation43 of triumph. “Come on.”
She led the way rapidly along the long corridor to the east of the house. Outside the library door Constable Palkstood on guard. He intercepted44 Mrs. Bantry with a show of authority.
“I’m afraid nobody is allowed in, madam. Inspector’s orders.”
“Nonsense, Palk,” said Mrs. Bantry. “You know Miss Marple perfectly45 well.”
Constable Palk admitted to knowing Miss Marple.
“It’s very important that she should see the body,” said Mrs. Bantry. “Don’t be stupid, Palk. After all, it’s mylibrary, isn’t it?”
Constable Palk gave way. His habit of giving in to the gentry46 was lifelong. The Inspector, he reflected, need neverknow about it.
“Nothing must be touched or handled in any way,” he warned the ladies.
“Of course not,” said Mrs. Bantry impatiently. “We know that. You can come in and watch, if you like.”
Constable Palk availed himself of this permission. It had been his intention, anyway.
Mrs. Bantry bore her friend triumphantly47 across the library to the big old-fashioned fireplace. She said, with adramatic sense of climax48: “There!”
Miss Marple understood then just what her friend had meant when she said the dead girl wasn’t real. The librarywas a room very typical of its owners. It was large and shabby and untidy. It had big sagging49 armchairs, and pipes andbooks and estate papers laid out on the big table. There were one or two good old family portraits on the walls, andsome bad Victorian watercolours, and some would-be-funny hunting scenes. There was a big vase of Michaelmasdaisies in the corner. The whole room was dim and mellow50 and casual. It spoke of long occupation and familiar useand of links with tradition.
And across the old bearskin hearthrug there was sprawled51 something new and crude and melodramatic.
The flamboyant52 figure of a girl. A girl with unnaturally53 fair hair dressed up off her face in elaborate curls and rings.
Her thin body was dressed in a backless evening dress of white spangled satin. The face was heavily made-up, thepowder standing54 out grotesquely55 on its blue swollen56 surface, the mascara of the lashes57 lying thickly on the distortedcheeks, the scarlet58 of the lips looking like a gash59. The fingernails were enamelled in a deep blood-red and so were thetoenails in their cheap silver sandal shoes. It was a cheap, tawdry, flamboyant figure—most incongruous in the solidold-fashioned comfort of Colonel Bantry’s library.
Mrs. Bantry said in a low voice:
“You see what I mean? It just isn’t true!”
The old lady by her side nodded her head. She looked down long and thoughtfully at the huddled figure.
She said at last in a gentle voice:
“She’s very young.”
“Yes—yes—I suppose she is.” Mrs. Bantry seemed almost surprised—like one making a discovery.
Miss Marple bent60 down. She did not touch the girl. She looked at the fingers that clutched frantically61 at the front ofthe girl’s dress, as though she had clawed it in her last frantic62 struggle for breath.
There was the sound of a car scrunching63 on the gravel64 outside. Constable Palk said with urgency:
“That’ll be the Inspector….”
True to his ingrained belief that the gentry didn’t let you down, Mrs. Bantry immediately moved to the door. MissMarple followed her. Mrs. Bantry said:
“That’ll be all right, Palk.”
Constable Palk was immensely relieved.
VI
Hastily downing the last fragments of toast and marmalade with a drink of coffee, Colonel Bantry hurried out into thehall and was relieved to see Colonel Melchett, the Chief Constable of the county, descending65 from a car with InspectorSlack in attendance. Melchett was a friend of the Colonel’s. Slack he had never much taken to—an energetic man whobelied his name and who accompanied his bustling66 manner with a good deal of disregard for the feelings of anyone hedid not consider important.
“Morning, Bantry,” said the Chief Constable. “Thought I’d better come along myself. This seems an extraordinarybusiness.”
“It’s—it’s—” Colonel Bantry struggled to express himself. “It’s incredible—fantastic!”
“No idea who the woman is?”
“Not the slightest. Never set eyes on her in my life.”
“Butler know anything?” asked Inspector Slack.
“Lorrimer is just as taken aback as I am.”
“Ah,” said Inspector Slack. “I wonder.”
Colonel Bantry said:
“There’s breakfast in the dining room, Melchett, if you’d like anything?”
“No, no—better get on with the job. Haydock ought to be here any minute now—ah, here he is.”
Another car drew up and big, broad-shouldered Doctor Haydock, who was also the police surgeon, got out. Asecond police car had disgorged two plainclothes men, one with a camera.
“All set—eh?” said the Chief Constable. “Right. We’ll go along. In the library, Slack tells me.”
Colonel Bantry groaned67.
“It’s incredible! You know, when my wife insisted this morning that the housemaid had come in and said there wasa body in the library, I just wouldn’t believe her.”
“No, no, I can quite understand that. Hope your missus isn’t too badly upset by it all?”
“She’s been wonderful—really wonderful. She’s got old Miss Marple up here with her—from the village, youknow.”
“Miss Marple?” The Chief Constable stiffened68. “Why did she send for her?”
“Oh, a woman wants another woman—don’t you think so?”
Colonel Melchett said with a slight chuckle69:
“If you ask me, your wife’s going to try her hand at a little amateur detecting. Miss Marple’s quite the local sleuth.
Put it over us properly once, didn’t she, Slack?”
Inspector Slack said: “That was different.”
“Different from what?”
“That was a local case, that was, sir. The old lady knows everything that goes on in the village, that’s true enough.
But she’ll be out of her depth here.”
Melchett said dryly: “You don’t know very much about it yourself yet, Slack.”
“Ah, you wait, sir. It won’t take me long to get down to it.”
VII
In the dining room Mrs. Bantry and Miss Marple, in their turn, were partaking of breakfast.
After waiting on her guest, Mrs. Bantry said urgently:
“Well, Jane?”
Miss Marple looked up at her, slightly bewildered.
Mrs. Bantry said hopefully:
“Doesn’t it remind you of anything?”
For Miss Marple had attained70 fame by her ability to link up trivial village happenings with graver problems in sucha way as to throw light upon the latter.
“No,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully, “I can’t say that it does—not at the moment. I was reminded a little of Mrs.
Chetty’s youngest—Edie, you know—but I think that was just because this poor girl bit her nails and her front teethstuck out a little. Nothing more than that. And, of course,” went on Miss Marple, pursuing the parallel further, “Ediewas fond of what I call cheap finery, too.”
“You mean her dress?” said Mrs. Bantry.
“Yes, a very tawdry satin—poor quality.”
Mrs. Bantry said:
“I know. One of those nasty little shops where everything is a guinea.” She went on hopefully:
“Let me see, what happened to Mrs. Chetty’s Edie?”
“She’s just gone into her second place—and doing very well, I believe.”
Mrs. Bantry felt slightly disappointed. The village parallel didn’t seem to be exactly hopeful.
“What I can’t make out,” said Mrs. Bantry, “is what she could possibly be doing in Arthur’s study. The windowwas forced, Palk tells me. She might have come down here with a burglar and then they quarrelled—but that seemssuch nonsense, doesn’t it?”
“She was hardly dressed for burglary,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully.
“No, she was dressed for dancing—or a party of some kind. But there’s nothing of that kind down here—oranywhere near.”
“N-n-o,” said Miss Marple doubtfully.
Mrs. Bantry pounced71.
“Something’s in your mind, Jane.”
“Well, I was just wondering—”
“Yes?”
“Basil Blake.”
Mrs. Bantry cried impulsively72: “Oh, no!” and added as though in explanation, “I know his mother.”
The two women looked at each other.
Miss Marple sighed and shook her head.
“I quite understand how you feel about it.”
“Selina Blake is the nicest woman imaginable. Her herbaceous borders are simply marvellous—they make megreen with envy. And she’s frightfully generous with cuttings.”
Miss Marple, passing over these claims to consideration on the part of Mrs. Blake, said:
“All the same, you know, there has been a lot of talk.”
“Oh, I know—I know. And of course Arthur goes simply livid when he hears Basil Blake mentioned. He wasreally very rude to Arthur, and since then Arthur won’t hear a good word for him. He’s got that silly slighting way oftalking that these boys have nowadays—sneering at people sticking up for their school or the Empire or that sort ofthing. And then, of course, the clothes he wears!”
“People say,” continued Mrs. Bantry, “that it doesn’t matter what you wear in the country. I never heard suchnonsense. It’s just in the country that everyone notices.” She paused, and added wistfully: “He was an adorable babyin his bath.”
“There was a lovely picture of the Cheviot murderer as a baby in the paper last Sunday,” said Miss Marple.
“Oh, but Jane, you don’t think he—”
“No, no, dear. I didn’t mean that at all. That would indeed be jumping to conclusions. I was just trying to accountfor the young woman’s presence down here. St. Mary Mead73 is such an unlikely place. And then it seemed to me thatthe only possible explanation was Basil Blake. He does have parties. People came down from London and from thestudios—you remember last July? Shouting and singing—the most terrible noise—everyone very drunk, I’m afraid—and the mess and the broken glass next morning simply unbelievable—so old Mrs. Berry told me—and a youngwoman asleep in the bath with practically nothing on!”
Mrs. Bantry said indulgently:
“I suppose they were film people.”
“Very likely. And then—what I expect you’ve heard—several weekends lately he’s brought down a young womanwith him—a platinum74 blonde.”
Mrs. Bantry exclaimed:
“You don’t think it’s this one?”
“Well—I wondered. Of course, I’ve never seen her close to—only just getting in and out of the car—and once inthe cottage garden when she was sunbathing75 with just some shorts and a brassière. I never really saw her face. And allthese girls with their makeup76 and their hair and their nails look so alike.”
“Yes. Still, it might be. It’s an idea, Jane.”
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disapproval
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awareness
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rattle
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drawn
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shutters
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discreet
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subdued
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culminate
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penetrating
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hysterical
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sobs
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applied
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conjugal
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spouse
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grunted
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promptly
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scattered
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faculties
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thoroughly
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kindly
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grumbling
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dressing
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huddled
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sobbing
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hysterically
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gasped
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subsided
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relish
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constable
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tunic
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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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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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eccentricities
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| n.古怪行为( eccentricity的名词复数 )；反常；怪癖 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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quelled
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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recalcitrant
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| adj.倔强的 | |
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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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scrunching
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| v.发出喀嚓声( scrunch的现在分词 )；蜷缩；压；挤压 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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platinum
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| n.白金 | |
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sunbathing
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| n.日光浴 | |
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makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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