D ELICIOUS D EATH
II n the kitchen at Little Paddocks, Miss Blacklock was giving instructions to Mitzi.
“Sardine sandwiches as well as the tomato ones. And some of those little scones1 you make so nicely. And I’d likeyou to make that special cake of yours.”
“Is it a party then, that you want all these things?”
“It’s Miss Bunner’s birthday, and some people will be coming to tea.”
“At her age one does not have birthdays. It is better to forget.”
“Well, she doesn’t want to forget. Several people are bringing her presents—and it will be nice to make a littleparty of it.”
“That is what you say last time—and see what happened!”
Miss Blacklock controlled her temper.
“Well, it won’t happen this time.”
“How do you know what may happen in this house? All day long I shiver and at night I lock my door and I look inthe wardrobe to see no one is hidden there.”
“That ought to keep you nice and safe,” said Miss Blacklock, coldly.
“The cake that you want me to make, it is the—?” Mitzi uttered a sound that to Miss Blacklock’s English earsounded like Schwitzebzr or alternatively like cats spitting at each other.
“That’s the one. The rich one.”
“Yes. It is rich. For it I have nothing! Impossible to make such a cake. I need for it chocolate and much butter, andsugar and raisins2.”
“You can use this tin of butter that was sent us from America. And some of the raisins we were keeping forChristmas, and here is a slab3 of chocolate and a pound of sugar.”
Mitzi’s face suddenly burst into radiant smiles.
“So, I make him for you good—good,” she cried, in an ecstasy4. “It will be rich, rich, of a melting richness! And ontop I will put the icing—chocolate icing—I make him so nice—and write on it Good Wishes. These English peoplewith their cakes that tastes of sand, never never, will they have tasted such a cake. Delicious, they will say—delicious—”
Her face clouded again.
“Mr. Patrick. He called it Delicious Death. My cake! I will not have my cake called that!”
“It was a compliment really,” said Miss Blacklock. “He meant it was worth dying to eat such a cake.”
Mitzi looked at her doubtfully.
“Well, I do not like that word—death. They are not dying because they eat my cake, no, they feel much, muchbetter….”
“I’m sure we all shall.”
Miss Blacklock turned away and left the kitchen with a sigh of relief at the successful ending of the interview. WithMitzi one never knew.
She ran into Dora Bunner outside.
“Oh, Letty, shall I run in and tell Mitzi just how to cut the sandwiches?”
“No,” said Miss Blacklock, steering5 her friend firmly into the hall. “She’s in a good mood now and I don’t want herdisturbed.”
“But I could just show her—”
“Please don’t show her anything, Dora. These central Europeans don’t like being shown. They hate it.”
Dora looked at her doubtfully. Then she suddenly broke into smiles.
“Edmund Swettenham just rang up. He wished me many happy returns of the day and said he was bringing me apot of honey as a present this afternoon. Isn’t it kind? I can’t imagine how he knew it was my birthday.”
“Everybody seems to know. You must have been talking about it, Dora.”
“Well, I did just happen to mention that today I should be fifty-nine.”
“You’re sixty-four,” said Miss Blacklock with a twinkle.
“And Miss Hinchcliffe said, ‘You don’t look it. What age do you think I am?’ Which was rather awkward becauseMiss Hinchcliffe always looks so peculiar6 that she might be any age. She said she was bringing me some eggs, by theway. I said our hens hadn’t been laying very well, lately.”
“We’re not doing so badly out of your birthday,” said Miss Blacklock. “Honey, eggs—a magnificent box ofchocolates from Julia—”
“I don’t know where she gets such things.”
“Better not ask. Her methods are probably strictly7 illegal.”
“And your lovely brooch.” Miss Bunner looked down proudly at her bosom8 on which was pinned a small diamondleaf.
“Do you like it? I’m glad. I never cared for jewellery.”
“I love it.”
“Good. Let’s go and feed the ducks.”
II
“Ha,” cried Patrick dramatically, as the party took their places round the dining room table. “What do I see before me?
Delicious Death.”
“Hush,” said Miss Blacklock. “Don’t let Mitzi hear you. She objects to your name for her cake very much.”
“Nevertheless, Delicious Death it is! Is it Bunny’s birthday cake?”
“Yes, it is,” said Miss Bunner. “I really am having the most wonderful birthday.”
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and had been ever since Colonel Easterbrook had handed her a small boxof sweets and declaimed with a bow, “Sweets to the Sweet!”
Julia had turned her head away hurriedly, and had been frowned at by Miss Blacklock.
Full justice was done to the good things on the tea table and they rose from their seats after a round of crackers9.
“I feel slightly sick,” said Julia. “It’s that cake. I remember I felt just the same last time.”
“It’s worth it,” said Patrick.
“These foreigners certainly understand confectionery,” said Miss Hinchcliffe. “What they can’t make is a plainboiled pudding.”
Everybody was respectfully silent, though it seemed to be hovering10 on Patrick’s lips to ask if anyone really wanteda plain boiled pudding.
“Got a new gardener?” asked Miss Hinchcliffe of Miss Blacklock as they returned to the drawing room.
“No, why?”
“Saw a man snooping round the henhouse. Quite a decent-looking Army type.”
“Oh, that,” said Julia. “That’s our detective.”
Mrs. Easterbrook dropped her handbag.
“Detective?” she exclaimed. “But—but—why?”
“I don’t know,” said Julia. “He prowls about and keeps an eye on the house. He’s protecting Aunt Letty, Isuppose.”
“Absolute nonsense,” said Miss Blacklock. “I can protect myself, thank you.”
“But surely it’s all over now,” cried Mrs. Easterbrook. “Though I meant to ask you, why did they adjourn11 theinquest?”
“Police aren’t satisfied,” said her husband. “That’s what that means.”
“But aren’t satisfied of what?”
Colonel Easterbrook shook his head with the air of a man who could say a good deal more if he chose. EdmundSwettenham, who disliked the Colonel, said, “The truth of it is, we’re all under suspicion.”
“But suspicion of what?” repeated Mrs. Easterbrook.
“Never mind, kitten,” said her husband.
“Loitering with intent,” said Edmund. “The intent being to commit murder upon the first opportunity.”
“Oh, don’t, please don’t, Mr. Swettenham.” Dora Bunner began to cry. “I’m sure nobody here could possibly wantto kill dear, dear Letty.”
There was a moment of horrible embarrassment12. Edmund turned scarlet13, murmured, “Just a joke.” Phillipasuggested in a high clear voice that they might listen to the six o’clock news and the suggestion was received withenthusiastic assent14.
Patrick murmured to Julia: “We need Mrs. Harmon here. She’d be sure to say in that high clear voice of hers, ‘ButI suppose somebody is still waiting for a good chance to murder you, Miss Blacklock?’”
“I’m glad she and that old Miss Marple couldn’t come,” said Julia. “That old woman is the prying15 kind. And amind like a sink, I should think. Real Victorian type.”
Listening to the news led easily into a pleasant discussion on the horrors of atomic warfare16. Colonel Easterbrooksaid that the real menace to civilization was undoubtedly17 Russia, and Edmund said that he had several charmingRussian friends—which announcement was coldly received.
The party broke up with renewed thanks to the hostess.
“Enjoy yourself, Bunny?” asked Miss Blacklock, as the last guest was sped.
“Oh, I did. But I’ve got a terrible headache. It’s the excitement, I think.”
“It’s the cake,” said Patrick. “I feel a bit liverish myself. And you’ve been nibbling18 chocolates all the morning.”
“I’ll go and lie down, I think,” said Miss Bunner. “I’ll take a couple of aspirins and try and have a nice sleep.”
“That would be a very good plan,” said Miss Blacklock.
Miss Bunner departed upstairs.
“Shall I shut up the ducks for you, Aunt Letty?”
Miss Blacklock looked at Patrick severely20.
“If you’ll be sure to latch21 that door properly.”
“I will. I swear I will.”
“Have a glass of sherry, Aunt Letty,” said Julia. “As my old nurse used to say, ‘It will settle your stomach.’ Arevolting phrase, but curiously22 apposite at this moment.”
“Well, I dare say it might be a good thing. The truth is one isn’t used to rich things. Oh, Bunny, how you made mejump. What is it?”
“I can’t find my aspirin19,” said Miss Bunner disconsolately23.
“Well, take some of mine, dear, they’re by my bed.”
“There’s a bottle on my dressing24 table,” said Phillipa.
“Thank you—thank you very much. If I can’t find mine—but I know I’ve got it somewhere. A new bottle. Nowwhere could I have put it?”
“There’s heaps in the bathroom,” said Julia impatiently. “This house is chock full of aspirin.”
“It vexes25 me to be so careless and mislay things,” replied Miss Bunner, retreating up the stairs again.
“Poor old Bunny,” said Julia, holding up her glass. “Do you think we ought to have given her some sherry?”
“Better not, I think,” said Miss Blacklock. “She’s had a lot of excitement today, and it isn’t really good for her. I’mafraid she’ll be the worse for it tomorrow. Still, I really do think she has enjoyed herself!”
“She’s loved it,” said Phillipa.
“Let’s give Mitzi a glass of sherry,” suggested Julia. “Hi, Pat,” she called as she heard him entering the side door.
“Fetch Mitzi.”
So Mitzi was brought in and Julia poured her out a glass of sherry.
“Here’s to the best cook in the world,” said Patrick.
Mitzi was gratified—but felt nevertheless that a protest was due.
“That is not so. I am not really a cook. In my country I do intellectual work.”
“Then you’re wasted,” said Patrick. “What’s intellectual work compared to a chef d’oeuvre like Delicious Death?”
“Oo—I say to you I do not like—”
“Never mind what you like, my girl,” said Patrick. “That’s my name for it and here’s to it. Let’s all drink toDelicious Death and to hell with the aftereffects.”
III
“Phillipa, my dear, I want to talk to you.”
“Yes, Miss Blacklock?”
Phillipa Haymes looked up in slight surprise.
“You’re not worrying about anything, are you?”
“Worrying?”
“I’ve noticed that you’ve looked worried lately. There isn’t anything wrong, is there?”
“Oh no, Miss Blacklock. Why should there be?”
“Well—I wondered. I thought, perhaps, that you and Patrick—?”
“Patrick?” Phillipa looked really surprised.
“It’s not so, then. Please forgive me if I’ve been impertinent. But you’ve been thrown together a lot—and althoughPatrick is my cousin, I don’t think he’s the type to make a satisfactory husband. Not for some time to come, at allevents.”
Phillipa’s face had frozen into a hard immobility.
“I shan’t marry again,” she said.
“Oh, yes, you will some day, my child. You’re young. But we needn’t discuss that. There’s no other trouble.
You’re not worried about—money, for instance?”
“No, I’m quite all right.”
“I know you get anxious sometimes about your boy’s education. That’s why I want to tell you something. I droveinto Milchester this afternoon to see Mr. Beddingfeld, my lawyer. Things haven’t been very settled lately and Ithought I would like to make a new will—in view of certain eventualities. Apart from Bunny’s legacy26, everythinggoes to you, Phillipa.”
“What?” Phillipa spun27 round. Her eyes stared. She looked dismayed, almost frightened.
“But I don’t want it—really I don’t … Oh, I’d rather not … And anyway, why? Why to me?”
“Perhaps,” said Miss Blacklock in a peculiar voice, “because there’s no one else.”
“But there’s Patrick and Julia.”
“Yes, there’s Patrick and Julia.” The odd note in Miss Blacklock’s voice was still there.
“They are your relations.”
“Very distant ones. They have no claim on me.”
“But I—I haven’t either—I don’t know what you think … Oh, I don’t want it.”
Her gaze held more hostility28 than gratitude29. There was something almost like fear in her manner.
“I know what I’m doing, Phillipa. I’ve become fond of you—and there’s the boy … You won’t get very much if Ishould die now—but in a few weeks’ time it might be different.”
Her eyes met Phillipa’s steadily30.
“But you’re not going to die!” Phillipa protested.
“Not if I can avoid it by taking due precautions.”
“Precautions?”
“Yes. Think it over … And don’t worry any more.”
She left the room abruptly31. Phillipa heard her speaking to Julia in the hall.
Julia entered the drawing room a few moments later.
There was a slightly steely glitter in her eyes.
“Played your cards rather well, haven’t you, Phillipa? I see you’re one of those quiet ones … a dark horse.”
“So you heard—?”
“Yes, I heard. I rather think I was meant to hear.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our Letty’s no fool … Well, anyway, you’re all right, Phillipa. Sitting pretty, aren’t you?”
“Oh, Julia—I didn’t mean—I never meant—”
“Didn’t you? Of course you did. You’re fairly up against things, aren’t you? Hard up for money. But justremember this—if anyone bumps off Aunt Letty now, you’ll be suspect No. 1.”
“But I shan’t be. It would be idiotic32 if I killed her now when—if I waited—”
“So you do know about old Mrs. Whatsername dying up in Scotland? I wondered … Phillipa, I’m beginning tobelieve you’re a very dark horse indeed.”
“I don’t want to do you and Patrick out of anything.”
“Don’t you, my dear? I’m sorry—but I don’t believe you.”
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1
scones
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| n.烤饼，烤小圆面包( scone的名词复数 ) | |
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raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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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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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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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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13
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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15
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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16
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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17
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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aspirin
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| n.阿司匹林 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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vexes
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| v.使烦恼( vex的第三人称单数 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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