I NSPECTOR C RADDOCK R ETURNS
I nspector Craddock had had a bad night on his night journey home. His dreams had been less dreams than nightmares.
Again and again he was racing1 through the grey corridors of an old- world castle in a desperate attempt to getsomewhere, or to prevent something, in time. Finally he dreamt that he awoke. An enormous relief surged over him.
Then the door of his compartment2 slid slowly open, and Letitia Blacklock looked in at him with blood running downher face, and said reproachfully: “Why didn’t you save me? You could have if you’d tried.”
This time he really awoke.
Altogether, the Inspector3 was thankful finally to reach Milchester. He went straight away to make his report toRydesdale who listened carefully.
“It doesn’t take us much further,” he said. “But it confirms what Miss Blacklock told you. Pip and Emma—h’m, Iwonder.”
“Patrick and Julia Simmons are the right age, sir. If we could establish that Miss Blacklock hadn’t seen them sincethey were children—”
With a very faint chuckle4, Rydesdale said: “Our ally, Miss Marple, has established that for us. Actually MissBlacklock had never seen either of them at all until two months ago.”
“Then, surely, sir—”
“It’s not so easy as all that, Craddock. We’ve been checking up. On what we’ve got, Patrick and Julia seemdefinitely to be out of it. His Naval5 record is genuine—quite a good record bar a tendency to ‘insubordination.’ We’vechecked with Cannes, and an indignant Mrs. Simmons says of course her son and daughter are at Chipping Cleghornwith her cousin Letitia Blacklock. So that’s that!”
“And Mrs. Simmons is Mrs. Simmons?”
“She’s been Mrs. Simmons for a very long time, that’s all I can say,” said Rydesdale dryly.
“That seems clear enough. Only—those two fitted. Right age. Not known to Miss Blacklock, personally. If wewanted Pip and Emma—well, there they were.”
The Chief Constable6 nodded thoughtfully, then he pushed across a paper to Craddock.
“Here’s a little something we’ve dug up on Mrs. Easterbrook.”
The Inspector read with lifted eyebrows7.
“Very interesting,” he remarked. “Hoodwinked that old ass8 pretty well, hasn’t she? It doesn’t tie in with thisbusiness though, as far as I can see.”
“Apparently9 not.”
“And here’s an item that concerns Mrs. Haymes.”
Again Craddock’s eyebrows rose.
“I think I’ll have another talk with the lady,” he said.
“You think this information might be relevant?”
“I think it might be. It would be a long shot, of course….”
The two men were silent for a moment or two.
“How has Fletcher got on, sir?”
“Fletcher has been exceedingly active. He’s made a routine search of the house by agreement with Miss Blacklock—but he didn’t find anything significant. Then he’s been checking up on who could have had the opportunity of oilingthat door. Checking who was up at the house on the days that that foreign girl was out. A little more complicated thanwe thought, because it appears she goes for a walk most afternoons. Usually down to the village where she has a cupof coffee at the Bluebird. So that when Miss Blacklock and Miss Bunner are out—which is most afternoons—they goblackberrying—the coast is clear.”
“And the doors are always left unlocked?”
“They used to be. I don’t suppose they are now.”
“What are Fletcher’s results? Who’s known to have been in the house when it was left empty?”
“Practically the whole lot of them.”
Rydesdale consulted a page in front of him.
“Miss Murgatroyd was there with a hen to sit on some eggs. (Sounds complicated but that’s what she says.) Veryflustered about it all and contradicts herself, but Fletcher thinks that’s temperamental and not a sign of guilt10.”
“Might be,” Craddock admitted. “She flaps.”
“Then Mrs. Swettenham came up to fetch some horse meat that Miss Blacklock had left for her on the kitchen tablebecause Miss Blacklock had been in to Milchester in the car that day and always gets Mrs. Swettenham’s horse meatfor her. That make sense to you?”
Craddock considered.
“Why didn’t Miss Blacklock leave the horse meat when she passed Mrs. Swettenham’s house on her way backfrom Milchester?”
“I don’t know, but she didn’t. Mrs. Swettenham says she (Miss B.) always leaves it on the kitchen table, and she(Mrs. S.) likes to fetch it when Mitzi isn’t there because Mitzi is sometimes so rude.”
“Hangs together quite well. And the next?”
“Miss Hinchcliffe. Says she wasn’t there at all lately. But she was. Because Mitzi saw her coming out of the sidedoor one day and so did a Mrs. Butt11 (she’s one of the locals). Miss H. then admitted she might have been there but hadforgotten. Can’t remember what she went for. Says she probably just dropped in.”
“That’s rather odd.”
“So was her manner, apparently. Then there’s Mrs. Easterbrook. She was exercising the dear dogs out that way andshe just popped in to see if Miss Blacklock would lend her a knitting pattern but Miss Blacklock wasn’t in. She saysshe waited a little.”
“Just so. Might be snooping round. Or might be oiling a door. And the Colonel?”
“Went there one day with a book on India that Miss Blacklock had expressed a desire to read.”
“Had she?”
“Her account is that she tried to get out of having to read it, but it was no use.”
“And that’s fair enough,” sighed Craddock. “If anyone is really determined12 to lend you a book, you never can getout of it!”
“We don’t know if Edmund Swettenham was up there. He’s extremely vague. Said he did drop in occasionally onerrands for his mother, but thinks not lately.”
“In fact, it’s all inconclusive.”
“Yes.”
Rydesdale said, with a slight grin:
“Miss Marple has also been active. Fletcher reports that she had morning coffee at the Bluebird. She’s been tosherry at Boulders13, and to tea at Little Paddocks. She’s admired Mrs. Swettenham’s garden—and dropped in to seeColonel Easterbrook’s Indian curios.”
“She may be able to tell us if Colonel Easterbrook’s a pukka Colonel or not.”
“She’d know, I agree—he seems all right. We’d have to check with the Far Eastern Authorities to get certainidentification.”
“And in the meantime”—Craddock broke off—“do you think Miss Blacklock would consent to go away?”
“Go away from Chipping Cleghorn?”
“Yes. Take the faithful Bunner with her, perhaps, and leave for an unknown destination. Why shouldn’t she go upto Scotland and stay with Belle14 Goedler? It’s a pretty unget-at-able place.”
“Stop there and wait for her to die? I don’t think she’d do that. I don’t think any nice-natured woman would likethat suggestion.”
“If it’s a matter of saving her life—”
“Come now, Craddock, it isn’t quite so easy to bump someone off as you seem to think.”
“Isn’t it, sir?”
“Well—in one way—it’s easy enough I agree. Plenty of methods. Weed-killer. A bash on the head when she’s outshutting up the poultry15, a pot shot from behind a hedge. All quite simple. But to bump someone off and not besuspected of bumping them off—that’s not quite so easy. And they must realize by now that they’re all underobservation. The original carefully planned scheme failed. Our unknown murderer has got to think up somethingelse.”
“I know that, sir. But there’s the time element to consider. Mrs. Goedler’s a dying woman—she might pop off anyminute. That means that our murderer can’t afford to wait.”
“True.”
“And another thing, sir. He—or she—must know that we’re checking up on everybody.”
“And that takes time,” said Rydesdale with a sigh. “It means checking with the East, with India. Yes, it’s a longtedious business.”
“So that’s another reason for—hurry. I’m sure, sir, that the danger is very real. It’s a very large sum that’s at stake.
If Belle Goedler dies—”
He broke off as a constable entered.
“Constable Legg on the line from Chipping Cleghorn, sir.”
“Put him through here.”
Inspector Craddock, watching the Chief Constable, saw his features harden and stiffen16.
“Very good,” barked Rydesdale. “Detective-Inspector Craddock will be coming out immediately.”
He put the receiver down.
“Is it—?” Craddock broke off.
Rydesdale shook his head.
“No,” he said. “It’s Dora Bunner. She wanted some aspirin17. Apparently she took some from a bottle beside LetitiaBlacklock’s bed. There were only a few tablets left in the bottle. She took two and left one. The doctor’s got that oneand is sending it to be analysed. He says it’s definitely not aspirin.”
“She’s dead?”
“Yes, found dead in her bed this morning. Died in her sleep, doctor says. He doesn’t think it was natural though herhealth was in a bad state. Narcotic18 poisoning, that’s his guess. Autopsy’s fixed19 for tonight.”
“Aspirin tablets by Letitia Blacklock’s bed. The clever clever devil. Patrick told me Miss Blacklock threw away ahalf bottle of sherry—opened a new one. I don’t suppose she’d have thought of doing that with an open bottle ofaspirin. Who had been in the house this time—within the last day or two? The tablets can’t have been there long.”
Rydesdale looked at him.
“All our lot were there yesterday,” he said. “Birthday party for Miss Bunner. Any of them could have nippedupstairs and done a neat little substitution. Or of course anyone living in the house could have done it any time.”
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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4
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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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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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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aspirin
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| n.阿司匹林 | |
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narcotic
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| n.麻醉药，镇静剂；adj.麻醉的，催眠的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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