A T 6:30 P.M.
I“W ell, here we are, all set,” said Miss Blacklock. She looked round the double drawing room with an appraising1 eye.
The rose-patterned chintzes—the two bowls of bronze chrysanthemums2, the small vase of violets and the silvercigarette box on a table by the wall, the tray of drinks on the centre table.
Little Paddocks was a medium-sized house built in the early Victorian style. It had a long shallow veranda3 andgreen shuttered windows. The long, narrow drawing room which lost a good deal of light owing to the veranda roofhad originally had double doors at one end leading into a small room with a bay window. A former generation hadremoved the double doors and replaced them with portieres of velvet4. Miss Blacklock had dispensed5 with the portieresso that the two rooms had become definitely one. There was a fireplace each end, but neither fire was lit although agentle warmth pervaded6 the room.
“You’ve had the central heating lit,” said Patrick.
Miss Blacklock nodded.
“It’s been so misty7 and damp lately. The whole house felt clammy. I got Evans to light it before he went.”
“The precious precious coke?” said Patrick mockingly.
“As you say, the precious coke. But otherwise there would have been the even more precious coal. You know theFuel Office won’t even let us have the little bit that’s due to us each week—not unless we can say definitely that wehaven’t got any other means of cooking.”
“I suppose there was once heaps of coke and coal for everybody?” said Julia with the interest of one hearing aboutan unknown country.
“Yes, and cheap, too.”
“And anyone could go and buy as much as they wanted, without filling in anything, and there wasn’t any shortage?
There was lots of it there?”
“All kinds and qualities—and not all stones and slates8 like what we get nowadays.”
“It must have been a wonderful world,” said Julia, with awe9 in her voice.
Miss Blacklock smiled. “Looking back on it, I certainly think so. But then I’m an old woman. It’s natural for me toprefer my own times. But you young things oughtn’t to think so.”
“I needn’t have had a job then,” said Julia. “I could just have stayed at home and done the flowers, and writtennotes … Why did one write notes and who were they to?”
“All the people that you now ring up on the telephone,” said Miss Blacklock with a twinkle. “I don’t believe youeven know how to write, Julia.”
“Not in the style of that delicious ‘Complete Letter Writer’ I found the other day. Heavenly! It told you the correctway of refusing a proposal of marriage from a widower10.”
“I doubt if you would have enjoyed staying at home as much as you think,” said Miss Blacklock. “There wereduties, you know.” Her voice was dry. “However, I don’t really know much about it. Bunny and I,” she smiledaffectionately at Dora Bunner, “went into the labour market early.”
“Oh, we did, we did indeed,” agreed Miss Bunner. “Those naughty, naughty children. I’ll never forget them. Ofcourse, Letty was clever. She was a business woman, secretary to a big financier.”
The door opened and Phillipa Haymes came in. She was tall and fair and placid-looking. She looked round theroom in surprise.
“Hallo,” she said. “Is it a party? Nobody told me.”
“Of course,” cried Patrick. “Our Phillipa doesn’t know. The only woman in Chipping Cleghorn who doesn’t, Ibet.”
Phillipa looked at him inquiringly.
“Here you behold,” said Patrick dramatically, waving a hand, “the scene of a murder!”
Phillipa Haymes looked faintly puzzled.
“Here,” Patrick indicated the two big bowls of chrysanthemums, “are the funeral wreaths and these dishes ofcheese straws and olives represent the funeral baked meats.”
Phillipa looked inquiringly at Miss Blacklock.
“Is it a joke?” she asked. “I’m always terribly stupid at seeing jokes.”
“It’s a very nasty joke,” said Dora Bunner with energy. “I don’t like it at all.”
“Show her the advertisement,” said Miss Blacklock. “I must go and shut up the ducks. It’s dark. They’ll be in bynow.”
“Let me do it,” said Phillipa.
“Certainly not, my dear. You’ve finished your day’s work.”
“I’ll do it, Aunt Letty,” offered Patrick.
“No, you won’t,” said Miss Blacklock with energy. “Last time you didn’t latch11 the door properly.”
“I’ll do it, Letty dear,” cried Miss Bunner. “Indeed, I should love to. I’ll just slip on my goloshes—and now wheredid I put my cardigan?”
But Miss Blacklock, with a smile, had already left the room.
“It’s no good, Bunny,” said Patrick. “Aunt Letty’s so efficient that she can never bear anybody else to do things forher. She really much prefers to do everything herself.”
“She loves it,” said Julia.
“I didn’t notice you making any offers of assistance,” said her brother.
Julia smiled lazily.
“You’ve just said Aunt Letty likes to do things herself,” she pointed12 out. “Besides,” she held out a well-shaped legin a sheer stocking, “I’ve got my best stockings on.”
“Death in silk stockings!” declaimed Patrick.
“Not silk—nylons, you idiot.”
“That’s not nearly such a good title.”
“Won’t somebody please tell me,” cried Phillipa plaintively13, “why there is all this insistence14 on death?”
Everybody tried to tell her at once—nobody could find the Gazette to show her because Mitzi had taken it into thekitchen.
Miss Blacklock returned a few minutes later.
“There,” she said briskly, “that’s done.” She glanced at the clock. “Twenty past six. Somebody ought to be heresoon—unless I’m entirely15 wrong in my estimate of my neighbours.”
“I don’t see why anybody should come,” said Phillipa, looking bewildered.
“Don’t you, dear?… I dare say you wouldn’t. But most people are rather more inquisitive16 than you are.”
“Phillipa’s attitude to life is that she just isn’t interested,” said Julia, rather nastily.
Phillipa did not reply.
Miss Blacklock was glancing round the room. Mitzi had put the sherry and three dishes containing olives, cheesestraws and some little fancy pastries17 on the table in the middle of the room.
“You might move that tray—or the whole table if you like—round the corner into the bay window in the otherroom, Patrick, if you don’t mind. After all, I am not giving a party! I haven’t asked anyone. And I don’t intend tomake it obvious that I expect people to turn up.”
“You wish, Aunt Letty, to disguise your intelligent anticipation18?”
“Very nicely put, Patrick. Thank you, my dear boy.”
“Now we can all give a lovely performance of a quiet evening at home,” said Julia, “and be quite surprised whensomebody drops in.”
Miss Blacklock had picked up the sherry bottle. She stood holding it uncertainly in her hand.
Patrick reassured19 her.
“There’s quite half a bottle there. It ought to be enough.”
“Oh, yes—yes …” She hesitated. Then, with a slight flush, she said:
“Patrick, would you mind … there’s a new bottle in the cupboard in the pantry … Bring it and a corkscrew. I—we—might as well have a new bottle. This—this has been opened some time.”
Patrick went on his errand without a word. He returned with the new bottle and drew the cork20. He looked upcuriously at Miss Blacklock as he placed it on the tray.
“Taking this seriously, aren’t you, darling?” he asked gently.
“Oh,” cried Dora Bunner, shocked. “Surely, Letty, you can’t imagine—”
“Hush,” said Miss Blacklock quickly. “That’s the bell. You see, my intelligent anticipation is being justified21.”
II
Mitzi opened the door of the drawing room and admitted Colonel and Mrs. Easterbrook. She had her own methods ofannouncing people.
“Here is Colonel and Mrs. Easterbrook to see you,” she said conversationally22.
Colonel Easterbrook was very bluff23 and breezy to cover some slight embarrassment24.
“Hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” he said. (A subdued25 gurgle came from Julia.) “Happened to be passing thisway—eh what? Quite a mild evening. Notice you’ve got your central heating on. We haven’t started ours yet.”
“Aren’t your chrysanthemums lovely?” gushed26 Mrs. Easterbrook. “Such beauties!”
“They’re rather scraggy, really,” said Julia.
Mrs. Easterbrook greeted Phillipa Haymes with a little extra cordiality to show that she quite understood thatPhillipa was not really an agricultural labourer.
“How is Mrs. Lucas’ garden getting on?” she asked. “Do you think it will ever be straight again? Completelyneglected all through the war—and then only that dreadful old man Ashe who simply did nothing but sweep up a fewleaves and put in a few cabbage plants.”
“It’s yielding to treatment,” said Phillipa. “But it will take a little time.”
Mitzi opened the door again and said:
“Here are the ladies from Boulders27.”
“’Evening,” said Miss Hinchcliffe, striding over and taking Miss Blacklock’s hand in her formidable grip. “I said toMurgatroyd: ‘Let’s just drop in at Little Paddocks!’ I wanted to ask you how your ducks are laying.”
“The evenings do draw in so quickly now, don’t they?” said Miss Murgatroyd to Patrick in a rather fluttery way.
“What lovely chrysanthemums!”
“Scraggy!” said Julia.
“Why can’t you be cooperative?” murmured Patrick to her in a reproachful aside.
“You’ve got your central heating on,” said Miss Hinchcliffe. She said it accusingly. “Very early.”
“The house gets so damp this time of year,” said Miss Blacklock.
Patrick signalled with his eyebrows28: “Sherry yet?” and Miss Blacklock signalled back: “Not yet.”
She said to Colonel Easterbrook:
“Are you getting any bulbs from Holland this year?”
The door again opened and Mrs. Swettenham came in rather guiltily, followed by a scowling29 and uncomfortableEdmund.
“Here we are!” said Mrs. Swettenham gaily30, gazing round her with frank curiosity. Then, feeling suddenlyuncomfortable, she went on: “I just thought I’d pop in and ask you if by any chance you wanted a kitten, MissBlacklock? Our cat is just—”
“About to be brought to bed of the progeny31 of a ginger32 tom,” said Edmund. “The result will, I think, be frightful33.
Don’t say you haven’t been warned!”
“She’s a very good mouser,” said Mrs. Swettenham hastily. And added: “What lovely chrysanthemums!”
“You’ve got your central heating on, haven’t you?” asked Edmund, with an air of originality34.
“Aren’t people just like gramophone records?” murmured Julia.
“I don’t like the news,” said Colonel Easterbrook to Patrick, buttonholing him fiercely. “I don’t like it at all. If youask me, war’s inevitable35—absolutely inevitable.”
“I never pay any attention to news,” said Patrick.
Once more the door opened and Mrs. Harmon came in.
Her battered36 felt hat was stuck on the back of her head in a vague attempt to be fashionable and she had put on arather limp frilly blouse instead of her usual pullover.
“Hallo, Miss Blacklock,” she exclaimed, beaming all over her round face. “I’m not too late, am I? When does themurder begin?”
III
There was an audible series of gasps37. Julia gave an approving little giggle38, Patrick crinkled up his face and MissBlacklock smiled at her latest guest.
“Julian is just frantic39 with rage that he can’t be here,” said Mrs. Harmon. “He adores murders. That’s really why hepreached such a good sermon last Sunday—I suppose I oughtn’t to say it was a good sermon as he’s my husband—butit really was good, didn’t you think?—so much better than his usual sermons. But as I was saying it was all because ofDeath Does the Hat Trick. Have you read it? The girl at Boots’ kept it for me specially40. It’s simply baffling. You keepthinking you know—and then the whole thing switches round—and there are a lovely lot of murders, four or five ofthem. Well, I left it in the study when Julian was shutting himself up there to do his sermon, and he just picked it upand simply could not put it down! And consequently he had to write his sermon in a frightful hurry and had to just putdown what he wanted to say very simply—without any scholarly twists and bits and learned references—and naturallyit was heaps better. Oh, dear, I’m talking too much. But do tell me, when is the murder going to begin?”
Miss Blacklock looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.
“If it’s going to begin,” she said cheerfully, “it ought to begin soon. It’s just a minute to the half hour. In themeantime, have a glass of sherry.”
Patrick moved with alacrity41 through the archway. Miss Blacklock went to the table by the archway where thecigarette box was.
“I’d love some sherry,” said Mrs. Harmon. “But what do you mean by if?”
“Well,” said Miss Blacklock, “I’m as much in the dark as you are. I don’t know what—”
She stopped and turned her head as the little clock on the mantelpiece began to chime. It had a sweet silvery bell-like tone. Everybody was silent and nobody moved. They all stared at the clock.
It chimed a quarter—and then the half. As the last note died away all the lights went out.
IV
Delighted gasps and feminine squeaks42 of appreciation43 were heard in the darkness. “It’s beginning,” cried Mrs.
Harmon in an ecstasy44. Dora Bunner’s voice cried out plaintively, “Oh, I don’t like it!” Other voices said, “Howterribly, terribly frightening!” “It gives me the creeps.”
“Archie, where are you?” “What do I have to do?” “Oh dear—did I step on your foot? I’m so sorry.”
Then, with a crash, the door swung open. A powerful flashlight played rapidly round the room. A man’s hoarsenasal voice, reminiscent to all of pleasant afternoons at the cinema, directed the company crisply to:
“Stick ’em up!
“Stick ’em up, I tell you!” the voice barked.
Delightedly, hands were raised willingly above heads.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” breathed a female voice. “I’m so thrilled.”
And then, unexpectedly, a revolver spoke45. It spoke twice. The ping of two bullets shattered the complacency of theroom. Suddenly the game was no longer a game. Somebody screamed….
The figure in the doorway46 whirled suddenly round, it seemed to hesitate, a third shot rang out, it crumpled47 and thenit crashed to the ground. The flashlight dropped and went out.
There was darkness once again. And gently, with a little Victorian protesting moan, the drawing room door, as wasits habit when not propped48 open, swung gently to and latched49 with a click.
VInside the drawing room there was pandemonium50. Various voices spoke at once. “Lights.” “Can’t you find theswitch?” “Who’s got a lighter51?” “Oh, I don’t like it, I don’t like it.” “But those shots were real!” “It was a realrevolver he had.” “Was it a burglar?” “Oh, Archie, I want to get out of here.” “Please, has somebody got a lighter?”
And then, almost at the same moment, two lighters52 clicked and burned with small steady flames.
Everybody blinked and peered at each other. Startled face looked into startled face. Against the wall by thearchway Miss Blacklock stood with her hand up to her face. The light was too dim to show more than that somethingdark was trickling53 over her fingers.
Colonel Easterbrook cleared his throat and rose to the occasion.
“Try the switches, Swettenham,” he ordered.
Edmund, near the door, obediently jerked the switch up and down.
“Off at the main, or a fuse,” said the Colonel. “Who’s making that awful row?”
A female voice had been screaming steadily54 from somewhere beyond the closed door. It rose now in pitch and withit came the sound of fists hammering on a door.
Dora Bunner, who had been sobbing55 quietly, called out:
“It’s Mitzi. Somebody’s murdering Mitzi….”
Patrick muttered: “No such luck.”
Miss Blacklock said: “We must get candles. Patrick, will you—?”
The Colonel was already opening the door. He and Edmund, their lighters flickering56, stepped into the hall. Theyalmost stumbled over a recumbent figure there.
“Seems to have knocked him out,” said the Colonel. “Where’s that woman making that hellish noise?”
“In the dining room,” said Edmund.
The dining room was just across the hall. Someone was beating on the panels and howling and screaming.
“She’s locked in,” said Edmund, stooping down. He turned the key and Mitzi came out like a bounding tiger.
The dining room light was still on. Silhouetted57 against it Mitzi presented a picture of insane terror and continued toscream. A touch of comedy was introduced by the fact that she had been engaged in cleaning silver and was stillholding a chamois leather and a large fish slice.
“Be quiet, Mitzi,” said Miss Blacklock.
“Stop it,” said Edmund, and as Mitzi showed no disposition58 to stop screaming, he leaned forward and gave her asharp slap on the cheek. Mitzi gasped59 and hiccuped60 into silence.
“Get some candles,” said Miss Blacklock. “In the kitchen cupboard. Patrick, you know where the fusebox is?”
“The passage behind the scullery? Right, I’ll see what I can do.”
Miss Blacklock had moved forward into the light thrown from the dining room and Dora Bunner gave a sobbinggasp. Mitzi let out another full-blooded scream.
“The blood, the blood!” she gasped. “You are shot—Miss Blacklock, you bleed to death.”
“Don’t be so stupid,” snapped Miss Blacklock. “I’m hardly hurt at all. It just grazed my ear.”
“But Aunt Letty,” said Julia, “the blood.”
And indeed Miss Blacklock’s white blouse and pearls and her hands were a horrifyingly61 gory62 sight.
“Ears always bleed,” said Miss Blacklock. “I remember fainting in the hairdresser’s when I was a child. The manhad only just snipped63 my ear. There seemed to be a basin of blood at once. But we must have some light.”
“I get the candles,” said Mitzi.
Julia went with her and they returned with several candles stuck into saucers.
“Now let’s have a look at our malefactor,” said the Colonel. “Hold the candles down low, will you, Swettenham?
As many as you can.”
“I’ll come the other side,” said Phillipa.
With a steady hand she took a couple of saucers. Colonel Easterbrook knelt down.
The recumbent figure was draped in a roughly made black cloak with a hood64 to it. There was a black mask over theface and he wore black cotton gloves. The hood had slipped back disclosing a ruffled65 fair head.
Colonel Easterbrook turned him over, felt the pulse, the heart … then drew away his fingers with an exclamation66 ofdistaste, looking down on them. They were sticky and red.
“Shot himself,” he said.
“Is he badly hurt?” asked Miss Blacklock.
“H’m. I’m afraid he’s dead … May have been suicide—or he may have tripped himself up with that cloak thingand the revolver went off as he fell. If I could see better—”
At that moment, as though by magic, the lights came on again.
With a queer feeling of unreality those inhabitants of Chipping Cleghorn who stood in the hall of Little Paddocksrealized that they stood in the presence of violent and sudden death. Colonel Easterbrook’s hand was stained red.
Blood was still trickling down Miss Blacklock’s neck over her blouse and coat and the grotesquely67 sprawled68 figure ofthe intruder lay at their feet….
Patrick, coming from the dining room, said, “It seemed to be just one fuse gone …” He stopped.
Colonel Easterbrook tugged69 at the small black mask.
“Better see who the fellow is,” he said. “Though I don’t suppose it’s anyone we know….”
He detached the mask. Necks were craned forward. Mitzi hiccuped and gasped, but the others were very quiet.
“He’s quite young,” said Mrs. Harmon with a note of pity in her voice.
And suddenly Dora Bunner cried out excitedly:
“Letty, Letty, it’s the young man from the Spa Hotel in Medenham Wells. The one who came out here and wantedyou to give him money to get back to Switzerland and you refused. I suppose the whole thing was just a pretext—tospy out the house … Oh, dear—he might easily have killed you….”
Miss Blacklock, in command of the situation, said incisively70:
“Phillipa, take Bunny into the dining room and give her a half glass of brandy. Julia dear, just run up to thebathroom and bring me the sticking plaster out of the bathroom cupboard—it’s so messy bleeding like a pig. Patrick,will you ring up the police at once?”
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1
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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chrysanthemums
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| n.菊花( chrysanthemum的名词复数 ) | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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pastries
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| n.面粉制的糕点 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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conversationally
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| adv.会话地 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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squeaks
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| n.短促的尖叫声，吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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45
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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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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latched
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| v.理解( latch的过去式和过去分词 )；纠缠；用碰锁锁上（门等）；附着（在某物上） | |
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pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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51
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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lighters
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| n.打火机，点火器( lighter的名词复数 ) | |
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53
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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silhouetted
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| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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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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hiccuped
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| v.嗝( hiccup的过去式和过去分词 )；连续地打嗝；暂时性的小问题；短暂的停顿 | |
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horrifyingly
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gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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snipped
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| v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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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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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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incisively
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| adv.敏锐地，激烈地 | |
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