1A lex Restarick was voluble. He also gestured with his hands.
“I know, I know! I’m the ideal suspect. I drive down here alone and on the way to the house, I get a creative fit. Ican’t expect you to understand. How should you?”
“I might,” Curry1 put in drily, but Alex Restarick swept on.
“It’s just one of those things! They come upon you there’s no knowing when or how. An effect—an idea—andeverything else goes to the winds. I’m producing Limehouse Nights next month. Suddenly—last night—the setup waswonderful …the perfect lighting2. Fog—and the headlights cutting through the fog and being thrown back—andreflecting dimly a tall pile of buildings. Everything helped! The shots—the running footsteps—and the chug-chuggingof the electric power engine—could have been a launch on the Thames. And I thought—that’s it—but what am I goingto use to get just these effects?—and—”
Inspector3 Curry broke in.
“You heard shots? Where?”
“Out of the fog, Inspector.” Alex waved his hands in the air—plump, well-kept hands. “Out of the fog. That wasthe wonderful part about it.”
“It didn’t occur to you that anything was wrong?”
“Wrong? Why should it?”
“Are shots such a usual occurrence?”
“Ah, I knew you wouldn’t understand! The shots fitted into the scene I was creating. I wanted shots. Danger—opium—crazy business. What did I care what they were really? Backfires from a lorry on the road? A poacher afterrabbits?”
“They snare4 rabbits mostly round here.”
Alex swept on:
“A child letting off fireworks? I didn’t even think about them as—shots. I was in Limehouse—or rather at the backof the stalls—looking at Limehouse.”
“How many shots?”
“I don’t know,” said Alex petulantly5. “Two or three. Two close together, I do remember that.”
Inspector Curry nodded.
“And the sound of running footsteps, I think you said? Where were they?”
“They came to me out of the fog. Somewhere near the house.”
Inspector Curry said gently:
“That would suggest that the murderer of Christian6 Gulbrandsen came from outside.”
“Of course. Why not? You don’t really suggest, do you, that he came from inside the house?”
Still very gently, Inspector Curry said:
“We have to think of everything.”
“I suppose so,” said Alex Restarick generously. “What a soul-destroying job yours must be, Inspector! The details,the times and places, the pettifogging pettiness of it. And in the end—what good is it all? Does it bring the wretchedChristian Gulbrandsen back to life?”
“There’s quite a satisfaction in getting your man, Mr. Restarick.”
“The Wild Western touch!”
“Did you know Mr. Gulbrandsen well?”
“Not well enough to murder him, Inspector. I had met him, off and on, since I lived here as a boy. He made briefappearances from time to time. One of our captains of industry. The type does not interest me. He has quite acollection, I believe, of Thorwaldsen’s statuary—” Alex shuddered7. “That speaks for itself, does it not? My God, theserich men!”
Inspector Curry eyed him meditatively8. Then he said, “Do you take any interest in poisons, Mr. Restarick?”
“In poisons? My dear man, he was surely not poisoned first and shot afterwards. That would be too madly detectivestory.”
“He was not poisoned. But you haven’t answered my question.”
“Poison has a certain appeal … It has not the crudeness of the revolver bullet or the blunt weapon. I have no specialknowledge of the subject, if that is what you mean.”
“Have you ever had arsenic9 in your possession?”
“In sandwiches—after the show? The idea has its allurements10. You don’t know Rose Glidon? These actresses whothink they have a name! No, I have never thought of arsenic. One extracts it from weed killer11 or flypapers, I believe.”
“How often are you down here, Mr. Restarick?”
“It varies, Inspector. Sometimes not for several weeks. But I try to get down for weekends whenever I can. Ialways regard Stonygates as my true home.”
“Mrs. Serrocold has encouraged you to do so?”
“What I owe Mrs. Serrocold can never be repaid. Sympathy, understanding, affection—”
“And quite a lot of solid cash as well, I believe?”
Alex looked faintly disgusted.
“She treats me as a son, and she has belief in my work.”
“Has she ever spoken to you about her will?”
“Certainly. But may I ask what is the point of all these questions, Inspector? There is nothing wrong with Mrs.
Serrocold.”
“There had better not be,” said Inspector Curry grimly.
“Now what can you possibly mean by that?”
“If you don’t know, so much the better,” said Inspector Curry. “And if you do—I’m warning you.”
When Alex had gone Sergeant13 Lake said:
“Pretty bogus, would you say?”
Curry shook his head.
“Difficult to say. He may have genuine creative talent. He may just like living soft and talking big. One doesn’tknow. Heard running footsteps, did he? I’d be prepared to bet he made that up.”
“For any particular reason?”
“Definitely for a particular reason. We haven’t come to it yet, but we will.”
“After all, sir, one of those smart lads may have got out of the College buildings unbeknownst. Probably a few catburglars amongst them, and if so—”
“That’s what we’re meant to think. Very convenient. But if that’s so, Lake, I’ll eat my new soft hat.”
2“I was at the piano,” said Stephen Restarick. “I’d been strumming softly when the row blew up. Between Lewis andEdgar.”
“What did you think of it?”
“Well—to tell the truth I didn’t really take it seriously. The poor beggar has these fits of venom14. He’s not reallyloopy, you know. All this nonsense is a kind of blowing off steam. The truth is, we all get under his skin—particularlyGina, of course.”
“Gina? You mean Mrs. Hudd? Why does she get under his skin?”
“Because she’s a woman—and a beautiful woman, and because she thinks he’s funny! She’s half Italian, youknow, and the Italians have that unconscious vein15 of cruelty. They’ve no compassion16 for anyone who’s old or ugly, orpeculiar in any way. They point with their fingers and jeer17. That’s what Gina did, metaphorically18 speaking. She’d nouse for young Edgar. He was ridiculous, pompous19, and, at bottom, fundamentally unsure of himself. He wanted toimpress, and he only succeeded in looking silly. It wouldn’t mean anything to her that the poor fellow suffered a lot.”
“Are you suggesting that Edgar Lawson is in love with Mrs. Hudd?” asked Inspector Curry.
Stephen replied cheerfully:
“Oh yes. As a matter of fact we all are, more or less! She likes us that way.”
“Does her husband like it?”
“He takes a dim view. He suffers, too, poor fellow. The thing can’t last, you know. Their marriage, I mean. It willbreak up before long. It was just one of these war affairs.”
“This is all very interesting,” said the Inspector. “But we’re getting away from our subject, which is the murder ofChristian Gulbrandsen.”
“Quite,” said Stephen. “But I can’t tell you anything about it. I sat at the piano, and I didn’t leave the piano untildear Jolly came in with some rusty20 old keys and tried to fit one to the lock of the study door.”
“You stayed at the piano. Did you continue to play the piano?”
“A gentle obbligato to the life and death struggle in Lewis’ study? No, I stopped playing when the tempo21 rose. Notthat I had any doubts as to the outcome. Lewis has what I can only describe as a dynamic eye. He could easily breakup Edgar just by looking at him.”
“Yet Edgar Lawson fired two shots at him.”
Stephen shook his head gently.
“Just putting on an act, that was. Enjoying himself. My dear mother used to do it. She died or ran away withsomeone when I was four, but I remember her blazing off with a pistol if anything upset her. She did it at a nightclubonce. Made a pattern on the wall. She was an excellent shot. Quite a bit of trouble she caused. She was a Russiandancer, you know.”
“Indeed. Can you tell me, Mr. Restarick, who left the Hall yesterday evening whilst you were there—during therelevant time?”
“Wally—to fix the lights. Juliet Bellever to find a key to fit the study door. Nobody else, as far as I know.”
“Would you have noticed if somebody did?”
Stephen considered.
“Probably not. That is, if they just tiptoed out and back again. It was so dark in the Hall—and there was the fight towhich we were all listening avidly22.”
“Is there anyone you are sure was there the whole time?”
“Mrs. Serrocold—yes, and Gina. I’d swear to them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Restarick.”
Stephen went towards the door. Then he hesitated and came back.
“What’s all this,” he said, “about arsenic?”
“Who mentioned arsenic to you?”
“My brother.”
“Ah—yes.”
Stephen said:
“Has somebody been giving Mrs. Serrocold arsenic?”
“Why should you mention Mrs. Serrocold?”
“I’ve read of the symptoms of arsenic poisoning. Peripheral23 neuritis, isn’t it? It would square more or less withwhat she’s been suffering from lately. And then Lewis snatching away her tonic24 last night. Is that what’s been goingon here?”
“The matter is under investigation,” said Inspector Curry in his most official manner.
“Does she know about it herself?”
“Mr. Serrocold was particularly anxious that she should not be—alarmed.”
“Alarmed isn’t the right word, Inspector. Mrs. Serrocold is never alarmed … Is that what lies behind ChristianGulbrandsen’s death? Did he find out she was being poisoned—but how could he find out? Anyway, the whole thingseems most improbable. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It surprises you very much, does it, Mr. Restarick?”
“Yes, indeed. When Alex spoke12 to me, I could hardly believe it.”
“Who, in your opinion, would be likely to administer arsenic to Mrs. Serrocold?”
For a moment, a grin appeared upon Stephen Restarick’s handsome face.
“Not the usual person. You can wash out the husband. Lewis Serrocold’s got nothing to gain. And also he worshipsthat woman. He can’t bear her to have an ache in her little finger.”
“Who then? Have you any idea?”
“Oh yes. I’d say it was a certainty.”
“Explain please.”
Stephen shook his head.
“It’s a certainty psychologically speaking. Not in any other way. No evidence of any kind. And you probablywouldn’t agree.”
Stephen Restarick went out nonchalantly, and Inspector Curry drew cats on the sheet of paper in front of him.
He was thinking three things. A, that Stephen Restarick thought a good deal of himself, B, that Stephen Restarickand his brother presented a united front; and C, that Stephen Restarick was a handsome man where Walter Hudd was aplain one.
He wondered about two other things—what Stephen meant by “psychologically speaking” and whether Stephencould possibly have seen Gina from his seat at the piano. He rather thought not.
3Into the Gothic gloom of the library, Gina brought an exotic glow. Even Inspector Curry blinked a little at the radiantyoung woman who sat down, leaned forward over the table and said expectantly, “Well?”
Inspector Curry, observing her scarlet25 shirt and dark green slacks said drily:
“I see you’re not wearing mourning, Mrs. Hudd?”
“I haven’t got any,” said Gina. “I know everyone is supposed to have a little black number and wear it with pearls.
But I don’t. I hate black. I think it’s hideous26, and only receptionists and housekeepers27 and people like that ought towear it. Anyway Christian Gulbrandsen wasn’t really a relation. He’s my grandmother’s stepson.”
“And I suppose you didn’t know him very well?”
Gina shook her head.
“He came here three or four times when I was a child, but then in the war I went to America, and I only came backhere to live about six months ago.”
“You have definitely come back here to live? You’re not just on a visit?”
“I haven’t really thought,” said Gina.
“You were in the Great Hall last night, when Mr. Gulbrandsen went to his room?”
“Yes. He said good night and went away. Grandam asked if he had everything he wanted and he said yes—thatJolly had fixed28 him up fine. Not those words, but that kind of thing. He said he had letters to write.”
“And then?”
Gina described the scene between Lewis and Edgar Lawson. It was the same story as Inspector Curry had by nowheard many times, but it took an added colour, a new gusto, under Gina’s handling. It became drama.
“It was Wally’s revolver,” she said. “Fancy Edgar’s having the guts29 to go and pinch it out of his room. I’d neverhave believed he’d have the guts.”
“Were you alarmed when they went into the study and Edgar Lawson locked the door?”
“Oh no,” said Gina, opening her enormous brown eyes very wide. “I loved it. It was so ham, you know, and somadly theatrical30. Everything Edgar does is always ridiculous. One can’t take him seriously for a moment.”
“He did fire the revolver, though?”
“Yes. We all thought then that he’d shot Lewis after all.”
“And did you enjoy that?” Inspector Curry could not refrain from asking.
“Oh no, I was terrified, then. Everyone was, except Grandam. She never turned a hair.”
“That seems rather remarkable31.”
“Not really. She’s that kind of person. Not quite in this world. She’s the sort of person who never believes anythingbad can happen. She’s sweet.”
“During all this scene, who was in the Hall?”
“Oh, we were all there. Except Uncle Christian, of course.”
“Not all, Mrs. Hudd. People went in and out.”
“Did they?” asked Gina vaguely32.
“Your husband, for instance, went out to fix the lights.”
“Yes. Wally’s great at fixing things.”
“During his absence, a shot was heard, I understand. A shot that you all thought came from the park?”
“I don’t remember that … Oh yes, it was just after the lights had come on again and Wally had come back.”
“Did anyone else leave the Hall?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t remember.”
“Where were you sitting, Mrs. Hudd?”
“Over by the window.”
“Near the door to the library?”
“Yes.”
“Did you yourself leave the Hall at all?”
“Leave? With all the excitement? Of course not.”
Gina sounded scandalised by the idea.
“Where were the others sitting?”
“Mostly round the fireplace, I think. Aunt Mildred was knitting and so was Aunt Jane—Miss Marple, I mean—Grandam was just sitting.”
“And Mr. Stephen Restarick?”
“Stephen? He was playing the piano to begin with. I don’t know where he went later.”
“And Miss Bellever?”
“Fussing about, as usual. She practically never sits down. She was looking for keys or something.”
She said suddenly:
“What’s all this about Grandam’s tonic? Did the chemist make a mistake in making it up or something?”
“Why should you think that?”
“Because the bottle’s disappeared and Jolly’s been fussing round madly looking for it, in no end of a stew33. Alextold her the police had taken it away. Did you?”
Instead of replying to the question, Inspector Curry said:
“Miss Bellever was upset, you say?”
“Oh! Jolly always fusses,” said Gina carelessly. “She likes fussing. Sometimes I wonder how Grandam can standit.”
“Just one last question, Mrs. Hudd. You’ve no ideas yourself as to who killed Christian Gulbrandsen and why?”
“One of the queers did it, I should think. The thug ones are really quite sensible. I mean they only cosh people so asto rob a till or get money or jewelry—not just for fun. But one of the queers—you know, what they call mentallymaladjusted—might do it for fun, don’t you think? Because I can’t see what other reason there could be for killingUncle Christian except fun, do you? At least I don’t mean fun, exactly—but—”
“You can’t think of a motive34?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean,” said Gina gratefully. “He wasn’t robbed or anything, was he?”
“But you know, Mrs. Hudd, the College buildings were locked and barred. Nobody could get out from therewithout a pass.”
“Don’t you believe it,” Gina laughed merrily. “Those boys could get out from anywhere! They’ve taught me a lotof tricks.”
“She’s a lively one,” said Lake when Gina had departed. “First time I’ve seen her close up. Lovely figure, hasn’tshe. Sort of a foreign figure, if you know what I mean.”
Inspector Curry threw him a cold glance. Sergeant Lake said hastily that she was a merry one. “Seems to haveenjoyed it all, as you might say.”
“Whether Stephen Restarick is right or not about her marriage breaking up, I notice that she went out of her way tomention that Walter Hudd was back in the Great Hall, before that shot was heard.”
“Which, according to everyone else, isn’t so?”
“Exactly.”
“She didn’t mention Miss Bellever leaving the Hall to look for keys, either.”
“No,” said the Inspector thoughtfully, “she didn’t….”
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收听单词发音
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1
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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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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petulantly
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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arsenic
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| n.砒霜，砷；adj.砷的 | |
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allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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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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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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metaphorically
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| adv. 用比喻地 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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avidly
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| adv.渴望地，热心地 | |
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peripheral
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| adj.周边的，外围的 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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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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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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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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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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