1G ina greeted Miss Marple with a rush as the latter came down to breakfast the next morning.
“The police are here again,” she said. “They’re in the library this time. Wally is absolutely fascinated by them. Hecan’t understand their being so quiet and so remote. I think he’s really quite thrilled by the whole thing. I’m not. I hateit. I think it’s horrible. Why do you think I’m so upset? Because I’m half Italian?”
“Very possibly. At least perhaps it explains why you don’t mind showing what you feel.”
Miss Marple smiled just a little as she said this.
“Jolly’s frightfully cross,” said Gina, hanging on Miss Marple’s arm and propelling her into the dining room. “Ithink really because the police are in charge and she can’t exactly ‘run’ them like she runs everybody else.
“Alex and Stephen,” continued Gina severely1, as they came into the dining room where the two brothers werefinishing their breakfast, “just don’t care.”
“Gina dearest,” said Alex, “you are most unkind. Good morning, Miss Marple. I care intensely. Except for the factthat I hardly knew your Uncle Christian2, I’m far and away the best suspect. You do realise that, I hope.”
“Why?”
“Well, I was driving up to the house at about the right time, it seems. And they’ve been checking up on times and itseems that I took too much time between the lodge3 and the house—time enough, the implication is, to leave the car,run round the house, go in through the side door, shoot Christian and rush out and back to the car again.”
“And what were you really doing?”
“I thought little girls were taught quite young not to ask indelicate questions. Like an idiot, I stood for severalminutes taking in the fog effect in the headlights and thinking what I’d use to get that effect on a stage. For my new‘Limehouse’ ballet.”
“But you can tell them that!”
“Naturally. But you know what policemen are like. They say ‘thank you’ very civilly and write it all down, andyou’ve no idea what they are thinking except that one does feel they have rather sceptical minds.”
“It would amuse me to see you in a spot, Alex,” said Stephen with his thin, rather cruel smile. “Now I’m quite allright! I never left the Hall last night.”
Gina cried, “But they couldn’t possibly think it was one of us!”
Her dark eyes were round and dismayed.
“Don’t say it must have been a tramp, dear,” said Alex, helping4 himself lavishly5 to marmalade. “It’s sohackneyed.”
Miss Bellever looked in at the door and said:
“Miss Marple, when you have finished your breakfast, will you go to the library?”
“You again,” said Gina. “Before any of us.”
She seemed a little injured.
“Hi, what was that?” asked Alex.
“Didn’t hear anything,” said Stephen.
“It was a pistol shot.”
“They’ve been firing shots in the room where Uncle Christian was killed,” said Gina. “I don’t know why. Andoutside too.”
The door opened again and Mildred Strete came in. She was wearing black with some onyx beads6.
She murmured good morning without looking at anyone and sat down.
In a hushed voice she said:
“Some tea, please, Gina. Nothing much to eat—just some toast.”
She touched her nose and eyes delicately with the handkerchief she held in one hand. Then she raised her eyes andlooked in an un-seeing way at the two brothers. Stephen and Alex became uncomfortable. Their voices dropped toalmost a whisper and presently they got up and left.
Mildred Strete said, whether to the universe or Miss Marple was not quite certain, “Not even a black tie!”
“I don’t suppose,” said Miss Marple apologetically, “that they knew beforehand that a murder was going tohappen.”
Gina made a smothered7 sound and Mildred Strete looked sharply at her.
“Where’s Walter this morning?” she asked.
Gina flushed.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.”
She sat there uneasily like a guilty child.
Miss Marple got up.
“I’ll go to the library now,” she said.
2Lewis Serrocold was standing8 by the window in the library.
There was no one else in the room.
He turned as Miss Marple came in and came forward to meet her, taking her hand in his.
“I hope,” he said, “that you are not feeling the worse for the shock. To be at close quarters with what isundoubtedly murder must be a great strain on anyone who has not come in contact with such a thing before.”
Modesty9 forbade Miss Marple to reply that she was, by now, quite at home with murder. She merely said that lifein St. Mary Mead10 was not quite so sheltered as outside people believed.
“Very nasty things go on in a village, I assure you,” she said. “One has an opportunity of studying things there thatone would never have in a town.”
Lewis Serrocold listened indulgently, but with only half an ear.
He said very simply: “I want your help.”
“But of course, Mr. Serrocold.”
“It is a matter that affects my wife—affects Caroline. I think that you are really attached to her?”
“Yes, indeed. Everyone is.”
“That is what I believed. It seems that I am wrong. With the permission of Inspector11 Curry12, I am going to tell yousomething that no one else as yet knows. Or perhaps I should say what only one person knows.”
Briefly13, he told her what he had told Inspector Curry the night before.
Miss Marple looked horrified14.
“I can’t believe it, Mr. Serrocold. I really can’t believe it.”
“That is what I felt when Christian Gulbrandsen told me.”
“I should have said that dear Carrie Louise had not got an enemy in the world.”
“It seems incredible that she should have. But you see the implication? Poisoning—slow poisoning—is an intimatefamily matter. It must be one of our closely knit little household—”
“If it is true. Are you sure that Mr. Gulbrandsen was not mistaken?”
“Christian was not mistaken. He is too cautious a man to make such a statement without foundation. Besides, thepolice took away Caroline’s medicine bottle and a separate sample of its contents. There was arsenic15 in both of them—and arsenic was not prescribed. The actual quantitative16 tests will take longer—but the actual fact of arsenic beingpresent is established.”
“Then her rheumatism—the difficulty in walking—all that—”
“Yes, leg cramps17 are typical, I understand. Also, before you came, Caroline had had one or two severe attacks of agastric nature—I never dreamed until Christian came—”
He broke off. Miss Marple said softly: “So Ruth was right!”
“Ruth?”
Lewis Serrocold sounded surprised. Miss Marple flushed.
“There is something I have not told you. My coming here was not entirely18 fortuitous. If you will let me explain—I’m afraid I tell things so badly. Please have patience.”
Lewis Serrocold listened whilst Miss Marple told him of Ruth’s unease and urgency.
“Extraordinary,” he commented. “I had no idea of this.”
“It was all so vague,” said Miss Marple. “Ruth herself didn’t know why she had this feeling. There must be areason—in my experience there always is—but ‘something wrong’ was as near as she could get.”
Lewis Serrocold said grimly:
“Well, it seems that she was right. Now, Miss Marple, you see how I am placed. Am I to tell Caroline of this?”
Miss Marple said quickly, “Oh no,” in a distressed19 voice, and then flushed and stared doubtfully at Lewis. Henodded.
“So you feel as I do? As Christian Gulbrandsen did. Should we feel like that with an ordinary woman?”
“Carrie Louise is not an ordinary woman. She lives by her trust, by her belief in human nature—oh dear, I amexpressing myself very badly. But I do feel that until we know who—”
“Yes, that is the crux20. But you do see, Miss Marple, that there is a risk in saying nothing—”
“And so you want me to—how shall I put it?—watch over her?”
“You see, you are the only person whom I can trust,” said Lewis Serrocold simply. “Everyone here seems devoted21.
But are they? Now your attachment22 goes back many years.”
“And also I only arrived a few days ago,” said Miss Marple pertinently23.
Lewis Serrocold smiled.
“Exactly.”
“It is a very mercenary question,” said Miss Marple apologetically. “But who exactly would benefit if dear CarrieLouise were to die?”
“Money!” said Lewis bitterly. “It always boils down to money, does it?”
“Well, I really think it must in this case. Because Carrie Louise is a very sweet person with a great deal of charm,and one cannot really imagine anyone disliking her. She couldn’t, I mean, have an enemy. So then it does boil down,as you put it, to a question of money, because as you don’t need me to tell you, Mr. Serrocold, people will quite oftendo anything for money.”
“I suppose so, yes.”
He went on: “Naturally Inspector Curry has already taken up that point. Mr. Gilroy is coming down from Londontoday and can give detailed24 information. Gilroy, Gilroy, Jaimes and Gilroy are a very eminent25 firm of lawyers. ThisGilroy’s father was one of the original trustees and they drew up both Caroline’s will and the original will of EricGulbrandsen. I will put it in simple terms for you—”
“Thank you,” said Miss Marple gratefully. “So mystifying the law, I always think.”
“Eric Gulbrandsen after endowment of the College and his various fellowships and trusts and other charitablebequests, and having settled an equal sum on his daughter Mildred and on his adopted daughter Pippa (Gina’s mother),left the remainder of his vast fortune in trust, the income from it to be paid to Caroline for her lifetime.”
“And after her death?”
“After her death it was to be divided equally between Mildred and Pippa—or their children, if they themselves hadpredeceased Caroline.”
“So that, in fact, it goes to Mrs. Strete and to Gina.”
“Yes. Caroline has also quite a considerable fortune of her own—though not in the Gulbrandsen class. Half of thisshe made over to me four years ago. Of the remaining amount, she left ten thousand pounds to Juliet Bellever, and therest equally divided between Alex and Stephen Restarick, her two stepsons.”
“Oh dear,” said Miss Marple. “That’s bad. That’s very bad.”
“You mean?”
“It means everyone in the house had a financial motive26.”
“Yes. And yet, you know, I can’t believe that any of these people would do murder. I simply can’t … Mildred isher daughter — and already quite well provided for. Gina is devoted to her grandmother. She is generous andextravagant, but has no acquisitive feelings. Jolly Bellever is fanatically devoted to Caroline. The two Restaricks carefor Caroline as though she were really their mother. They have no money of their own to speak of, but quite a lot ofCaroline’s income has gone towards financing their enterprises—especially so with Alex. I simply can’t believe eitherof those two would deliberately27 poison her for the sake of inheriting money at her death. I just can’t believe any of it,Miss Marple.”
“There’s Gina’s husband, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” said Lewis gravely. “There is Gina’s husband.”
“You don’t really know much about him. And one can’t help seeing that he’s a very unhappy young man.”
Lewis sighed.
“He hasn’t fitted in here—no. He’s no interest in or sympathy for what we’re trying to do. But after all, why shouldhe? He’s young, crude, and he comes from a country where a man is esteemed28 by the success he makes of life.”
“Whilst here we are so very fond of failures,” said Miss Marple.
Lewis Serrocold looked at her sharply and suspiciously.
She flushed a little and murmured rather incoherently:
“I think sometimes, you know, one can overdo29 things the other way … I mean the young people with a goodheredity, and brought up wisely in a good home—and with grit30 and pluck and the ability to get on in life—well, theyare really, when one comes down to it—the sort of people a country needs.”
Lewis frowned and Miss Marple hurried on, getting pinker and pinker and more and more incoherent.
“Not that I don’t appreciate—I do indeed—you and Carrie Louise—a really noble work—real compassion—andone should have compassion—because after all it’s what people are that counts—good and bad luck—and much moreexpected (and rightly) of the lucky ones. But I do think sometimes one’s sense of proportion—oh, I don’t mean you,Mr. Serrocold. Really I don’t know what I mean—but the English are rather odd that way. Even in war, so muchprouder of their defeats and their retreats than of their victories. Foreigners never can understand why we’re so proudof Dunkerque. It’s the sort of thing they’d prefer not to mention themselves. But we always seem to be almostembarrassed by a victory—and treat it as though it weren’t quite nice to boast about it. And look at all our poets! ‘TheCharge of the Light Brigade.’ And the little Revenge went down in the Spanish Main. It’s really a very oddcharacteristic when you come to think of it!”
Miss Marple drew a fresh breath.
“What I really mean is that everything here must seem rather peculiar31 to young Walter Hudd.”
“Yes,” Lewis allowed. “I see your point. And Walter has certainly a fine war record. There’s no doubt about hisbravery.”
“Not that that helps,” said Miss Marple candidly32. “Because war is one thing, and everyday life is quite another.
And actually to commit a murder, I think you do need bravery—or perhaps, more often, just conceit33. Yes, conceit.”
“But I would hardly say that Walter Hudd had a sufficient motive.”
“Wouldn’t you?” said Miss Marple. “He hates it here. He wants to get away. He wants to get Gina away. And ifit’s really money he wants, it would be important for Gina to get all the money before she—er—definitely forms anattachment to someone else.”
“An attachment to someone else,” said Lewis, in an astonished voice.
Miss Marple wondered at the blindness of enthusiastic social reformers.
“That’s what I said. Both the Restaricks are in love with her, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Lewis absently.
He went on:
“Stephen’s invaluable34 to us—quite invaluable. The way he’s got those lads coming along—keen—interested. Theygave a splendid show last month. Scenery, costumes, everything. It just shows, as I’ve always said to Maverick35, thatit’s lack of drama in their lives that leads these boys to crime. To dramatise yourself is a child’s natural instinct.
Maverick says—ah yes, Maverick—”
Lewis broke off.
“I want Maverick to see Inspector Curry about Edgar. The whole thing is so ridiculous really.”
“What do you really know about Edgar Lawson, Mr. Serrocold?”
“Everything,” said Lewis positively36. “Everything, that is, that one needs to know. His background, upbringing—hisdeep-seated lack of confidence in himself—”
Miss Marple interrupted.
“Couldn’t Edgar Lawson have poisoned Mrs. Serrocold?” she asked.
“Hardly. He’s only been here a few weeks. And anyway, it’s ridiculous! Why should Edgar want to poison mywife? What could he possibly gain by doing so?”
“Nothing material, I know. But he might have—some odd reason. He is odd, you know.”
“You mean unbalanced?”
“I suppose so. No, I don’t—not quite. What I mean is, he’s all wrong.”
It was not a very lucid37 exposition of what she felt. Lewis Serrocold accepted the words at their face value.
“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “He’s all wrong, poor lad. And he was showing such marked improvement. I can’treally understand why he had this sudden setback….”
Miss Marple leaned forward eagerly.
“Yes, that’s what I wondered. If—”
She broke off as Inspector Curry came into the room.
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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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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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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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helping
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lavishly
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beads
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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standing
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modesty
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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arsenic
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quantitative
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cramps
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| n. 抽筋, 腹部绞痛, 铁箍 adj. 狭窄的, 难解的 v. 使...抽筋, 以铁箍扣紧, 束缚 | |
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entirely
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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crux
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devoted
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attachment
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pertinently
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detailed
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eminent
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motive
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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overdo
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| vt.把...做得过头，演得过火 | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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peculiar
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candidly
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conceit
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invaluable
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maverick
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positively
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lucid
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