M ary Dove paused on her way downstairs and looked out through the big window on the stairs. A car had just drivenup from which two men were alighting. The taller of the two stood for a moment with his back to the house surveyinghis surroundings. Mary Dove appraised1 the two men thoughtfully. Inspector2 Neele and presumably a subordinate.
She turned from the window and looked at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall where thestaircase turned . . . She saw a small demure3 figure with immaculate white collar and cuffs4 on a beige grey dress. Herdark hair was parted in the middle and drawn5 back in two shining waves to a knot in the back of the neck . . . Thelipstick she used was a pale rose colour.
On the whole Mary Dove was satisfied with her appearance. A very faint smile on her lips, she went on down thestairs.
Inspector Neele, surveying the house, was saying to himself:
Call it a lodge6, indeed! Yewtree Lodge! The affectation of these rich people! The house was what he, InspectorNeele, would call a mansion8. He knew what a lodge was. He’d been brought up in one! The lodge at the gates ofHartington Park, that vast unwieldy Palladian house with its twenty-nine bedrooms which had now been taken over bythe National Trust. The lodge had been small and attractive from the outside, and had been damp, uncomfortable anddevoid of anything but the most primitive10 form of sanitation11 within. Fortunately these facts had been accepted as quiteproper and fitting by Inspector Neele’s parents. They had no rent to pay and nothing whatever to do except open andshut the gates when required, and there were always plenty of rabbits and an occasional pheasant or so for the pot.
Mrs. Neele had never discovered the pleasure of electric irons, slow combustion12 stoves, airing cupboards, hot and coldwater from taps, and the switching on of light by a mere13 flick14 of a finger. In winter the Neeles had an oil lamp and insummer they went to bed when it got dark. They were a healthy family and a happy one, all thoroughly15 behind thetimes.
So when Inspector Neele heard the word Lodge, it was his childhood memories that stirred. But this place, thispretentiously named Yewtree Lodge was just the kind of mansion that rich people built themselves and then called it“their little place in the country.” It wasn’t in the country either, according to Inspector Neele’s idea of the country.
The house was a large solid red-brick structure, sprawling16 lengthwise rather than upward, with rather too many gables,and a vast number of leaded paned windows. The gardens were highly artificial—all laid out in rose beds and pergolasand pools, and living up to the name of the house with large numbers of clipped yew7 hedges.
Plenty of yew here for anybody with a desire to obtain the raw material of taxine. Over on the right, behind the rosepergola, there was a bit of actual nature left—a vast yew tree of the kind one associates with churchyards, its branchesheld up by stakes—like a kind of Moses of the forest world. That tree, the inspector thought, had been there longbefore the rash of newly built red-brick houses had begun to spread over the countryside. It had been there before thegolf courses had been laid out and the fashionable architects had walked round with their rich clients, pointing out theadvantages of the various sites. And since it was a valuable antique, the tree had been kept and incorporated in the newsetup and had, perhaps, given its name to the new desirable residence. Yewtree Lodge. And possibly the berries fromthat very tree—
Inspector Neele cut off these unprofitable speculations17. Must get on with the job. He rang the bell.
It was opened promptly18 by a middle-aged19 man who fitted in quite accurately20 with the mental image Inspector Neelehad formed of him over the phone. A man with a rather spurious air of smartness, a shifty eye and a rather unsteadyhand.
Inspector Neele announced himself and his subordinate and had the pleasure of seeing an instant look of alarmcome into the butler’s eye . . . Neele did not attach too much importance to that. It might easily have nothing to dowith the death of Rex Fortescue. It was quite possibly a purely21 automatic reaction.
“Has Mrs. Fortescue returned yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Nor Mr. Percival Fortescue? Nor Miss Fortescue?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I would like to see Miss Dove, please.”
The man turned his head slightly.
“Here’s Miss Dove now—coming downstairs.”
Inspector Neele took in Miss Dove as she came composedly down the wide staircase. This time the mental picturedid not correspond with the reality. Unconsciously the word housekeeper22 had conjured23 up a vague impression ofsomeone large and authoritative24 dressed in black with somewhere concealed25 about her a jingle26 of keys.
The inspector was quite unprepared for the small trim figure descending27 towards him. The soft dove-coloured tonesof her dress, the white collar and cuffs, the neat waves of hair, the faint Mona Lisa smile. It all seemed, somehow, justa little unreal, as though this young woman of under thirty was playing a part: not, he thought, the part of ahousekeeper, but the part of Mary Dove. Her appearance was directed towards living up to her name.
She greeted him composedly.
“Inspector Neele?”
“Yes. This is Sergeant28 Hay. Mr. Fortescue, as I told you through the phone, died in St. Jude’s Hospital at 12:43. Itseems likely that his death was the result of something he ate at breakfast this morning. I should be glad therefore ifSergeant Hay could be taken to the kitchen where he can make inquiries29 as to the food served.”
Her eyes met his for a moment, thoughtfully, then she nodded.
“Of course,” she said. She turned to the uneasily hovering30 butler. “Crump, will you take Sergeant Hay out andshow him whatever he wants to see.”
The two men departed together. Mary Dove said to Neele:
“Will you come in here?”
She opened the door of a room and preceded him into it. It was a characterless apartment, clearly labelled“Smoking Room,” with panelling, rich upholstery, large stuffed chairs, and a suitable set of sporting prints on thewalls.
“Please sit down.”
He sat and Mary Dove sat opposite him. She chose, he noticed, to face the light. An unusual preference for awoman. Still more unusual if a woman had anything to hide. But perhaps Mary Dove had nothing to hide.
“It is very unfortunate,” she said, “that none of the family is available. Mrs. Fortescue may return at any minute.
And so may Mrs. Val. I have sent wires to Mr. Percival Fortescue at various places.”
“Thank you, Miss Dove.”
“You say that Mr. Fortescue’s death was caused by something he may have eaten for breakfast? Food poisoning,you mean?”
“Possibly.” He watched her.
She said composedly, “It seems unlikely. For breakfast this morning there were bacon and scrambled31 eggs, coffee,toast and marmalade. There was also a cold ham on the sideboard, but that had been cut yesterday, and no one felt anyill effects. No fish of any kind was served, no sausages—nothing like that.”
“I see you know exactly what was served.”
“Naturally. I order the meals. For dinner last night—”
“No.” Inspector Neele interrupted her. “It would not be a question of dinner last night.”
“I thought the onset32 of food poisoning could sometimes be delayed as much as twenty-four hours.”
“Not in this case . . . Will you tell me exactly what Mr. Fortescue ate and drank before leaving the house thismorning?”
“He had early tea brought to his room at eight o’clock. Breakfast was at a quarter past nine. Mr. Fortescue, as Ihave told you, had scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, toast and marmalade.”
“Any cereal?”
“No, he didn’t like cereals.”
“The sugar for the coffee—it is lump sugar or granulated?”
“Lump. But Mr. Fortescue did not take sugar in his coffee.”
“Was he in the habit of taking any medicines in the morning? Salts? A tonic33? Some digestive remedy?”
“No, nothing of that kind.”
“Did you have breakfast with him also?”
“No. I do not take meals with the family.”
“Who was at breakfast?”
“Mrs. Fortescue. Miss Fortescue. Mrs. Val Fortescue. Mr. Percival Fortescue, of course, was away.”
“And Mrs. and Miss Fortescue ate the same things for breakfast?”
“Mrs. Fortescue has only coffee, orange juice and toast, Mrs. Val and Miss Fortescue always eat a hearty34 breakfast.
Besides eating scrambled eggs and cold ham, they would probably have a cereal as well. Mrs. Val drinks tea, notcoffee.”
Inspector Neele reflected for a moment. The opportunities seemed at least to be narrowing down. Three people andthree people only had had breakfast with the deceased, his wife, his daughter and his daughter-in-law. Either of themmight have seized an opportunity to add taxine to his cup of coffee. The bitterness of the coffee would have maskedthe bitter taste of the taxine. There was the early morning tea, of course, but Bernsdorff had intimated that the tastewould be noticeable in tea. But perhaps, first thing in the morning, before the senses were alert . . . He looked up tofind Mary Dove watching him.
“Your questions about tonic and medicines seem to me rather odd, Inspector,” she said. “It seems to imply thateither there was something wrong with a medicine, or that something had been added to it. Surely neither of thoseprocesses could be described as food poisoning.”
Neele eyed her steadily35.
“I did not say—definitely—that Mr. Fortescue died of food poisoning. But some kind of poisoning. In fact—justpoisoning.”
She repeated softly: “Poisoning. . . .”
She appeared neither startled nor dismayed, merely interested. Her attitude was of one sampling a new experience.
In fact she said as much, remarking after a moment’s reflection: “I have never had anything to do with a poisoningcase before.”
“It’s not very pleasant,” Neele informed her dryly.
“No—I suppose not. . . .”
She thought about it for a moment and then looked up at him with a sudden smile.
“I didn’t do it,” she said. “But I suppose everybody will tell you that!”
“Have you any idea who did do it, Miss Dove?”
She shrugged36 her shoulders.
“Frankly, he was an odious37 man. Anybody might have done it.”
“But people aren’t poisoned just for being ‘odious,’ Miss Dove. There usually has to be a pretty solid motive38.”
“Yes, of course.”
She was thoughtful.
“Do you care to tell me something about the household here?”
She looked up at him. He was a little startled to find her eyes cool and amused.
“This isn’t exactly a statement you’re asking me to make, is it? No, it couldn’t be, because your sergeant is busyupsetting the domestic staff. I shouldn’t like to have what I say read out in court—but all the same I should rather liketo say it—unofficially. Off the record, so to speak?”
“Go ahead then, Miss Dove. I’ve no witness, as you’ve already observed.”
She leaned back, swinging one slim foot and narrowing her eyes.
“Let me start by saying that I’ve no feeling of loyalty39 to my employers. I work for them because it’s a job that payswell and I insist that it should pay well.”
“I was a little surprised to find you doing this type of job. It struck me that with your brains and education—”
“I ought to be confined in an office? Or compiling files in a Ministry40? My dear Inspector Neele, this is the perfectracket. People will pay anything—anything—to be spared domestic worries. To find and engage a staff is a thoroughlytedious job. Writing to agencies, putting in advertisements, interviewing people, making arrangements for interviews,and finally keeping the whole thing running smoothly—it takes a certain capacity which most of these people haven’tgot.”
“And suppose your staff, when you’ve assembled it, runs out on you? I’ve heard of such things.”
Mary smiled.
“If necessary, I can make the beds, dust the rooms, cook a meal and serve it without anyone noticing the difference.
Of course I don’t advertise that fact. It might give rise to ideas. But I can always be sure of tiding over any little gap.
But there aren’t often gaps. I work only for the extremely rich who will pay anything to be comfortable. I pay topprices and so I get the best of what’s going.”
“Such as the butler?”
She threw him an amused, appreciative41 glance.
“There’s always that trouble with a couple. Crump stays because of Mrs. Crump, who is one of the best cooks I’veever come across. She’s a jewel and one would put up with a good deal to keep her. Our Mr. Fortescue likes his food—liked, I should say. In this household nobody has any scruples42 and they have plenty of money. Butter, eggs, cream,Mrs. Crump can command what she likes. As for Crump, he just makes the grade. His silver’s all right, and hiswaiting at table is not too bad. I keep the key of the wine cellar and a sharp eye on the whisky, and gin, and supervisehis valeting.”
Inspector Neele raised his eyebrows43.
“The admirable Miss Crichton.”
“I find one must know how to do everything oneself. Then—one need never do it. But you wanted to know myimpressions of the family.”
“If you don’t mind.”
“They are really all quite odious. The late Mr. Fortescue was the kind of crook44 who is always careful to play safe.
He boasted a great deal of his various smart dealings. He was rude and overbearing in manner and was a definite bully45.
Mrs. Fortescue, Adele—was his second wife and about thirty years younger than he was. He came across her atBrighton. She was a manicurist on the look out for big money. She is very good-looking—a real sexy piece, if youknow what I mean.”
Inspector Neele was shocked but managed not to show it. A girl like Mary Dove ought not to say such things, hefelt.
The young lady was continuing composedly:
“Adele married him for his money, of course, and his son, Percival, and his daughter, Elaine, were simply lividabout it. They’re as nasty as they can be to her, but very wisely she doesn’t care or even notice. She knows she’s gotthe old man where she wants him. Oh dear, the wrong tense again. I haven’t really grasped yet that he’s dead. . . .”
“Let’s hear about the son.”
“Dear Percival? Val, as his wife calls him. Percival is a mealy-mouthed hypocrite. He’s prim9 and sly and cunning.
He’s terrified of his father and has always let himself be bullied46, but he’s quite clever at getting his own way. Unlikehis father he’s mean about money. Economy is one of his passions. That’s why he’s been so long about finding ahouse of his own. Having a suite47 of rooms here saved his pocket.”
“And his wife?”
“Jennifer’s meek48 and seems very stupid. But I’m not so sure. She was a hospital nurse before her marriage—nursedPercival through pneumonia49 to a romantic conclusion. The old man was disappointed by the marriage. He was a snoband wanted Percival to make what he called a ‘good marriage.’ He despised poor Mrs. Val and snubbed her. Shedislikes — disliked him a good deal, I think. Her principal interests are shopping and the cinema; her principalgrievance is that her husband keeps her short of money.”
“What about the daughter?”
“Elaine? I’m rather sorry for Elaine. She’s not a bad sort. One of those great schoolgirls who never grow up. Sheplays games quite well, and runs Guides and Brownies and all that sort of thing. There was some sort of affair not longago with a disgruntled young schoolmaster, but Father discovered the young man had communistic ideas and camedown on the romance like a ton of bricks.”
“She hadn’t got the spirit to stand up to him?”
“She had. It was the young man who ratted. A question of money yet again, I fancy. Elaine is not particularlyattractive, poor dear.”
“And the other son?”
“I’ve never seen him. He’s attractive, by all accounts, and a thoroughly bad lot. Some little matter of a forgedcheque in the past. He lives in East Africa.”
“And was estranged50 from his father.”
“Yes, Mr. Fortescue couldn’t cut him off with a shilling because he’d already made him a junior partner in the firm,but he held no communication with him for years, and in fact if Lance was ever mentioned, he used to say: ‘Don’t talkto me of that rascal51. He’s no son of mine.’ All the same—”
“Yes, Miss Dove?”
Mary said slowly: “All the same, I shouldn’t be surprised if old Fortescue hadn’t been planning to get him backhere.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because, about a month ago, old Fortescue had a terrific row with Percival—he found out something that Percivalhad been doing behind his back—I don’t know what it was—and he was absolutely furious. Percival suddenly stoppedbeing the white-headed boy. He’s been quite different lately, too.”
“Mr. Fortescue was quite different?”
“No. I meant Percival. He’s gone about looking worried to death.”
“Now what about servants? You’ve already described the Crumps. Who else is there?”
“Gladys Martin is the parlourmaid or waitress, as they like to call themselves nowadays. She does the downstairsrooms, lays the table, clears away and helps Crump wait at table. Quite a decent sort of girl but very nearly half-witted. The adenoidal type.”
Neele nodded.
“The housemaid is Ellen Curtis. Elderly, very crabbed52, and very cross, but has been in good service and is a first-class housemaid. The rest is outside help—odd women who come in.”
“And those are the only people living here?”
“There’s old Miss Ramsbottom.”
“Who is she?”
“Mr. Fortescue’s sister-in-law—his first wife’s sister. His wife was a good deal older than he was and her sisteragain was a good deal older than her—which makes her well over seventy. She has a room of her own on the secondfloor—does her own cooking and all that, with just a woman coming in to clean. She’s rather eccentric and she neverliked her brother-in-law, but she came here while her sister was alive and stayed on when she died. Mr. Fortescuenever bothered about her much. She’s quite a character, though, is Aunt Effie.”
“And that is all.”
“That’s all.”
“So we come to you, Miss Dove.”
“You want particulars? I’m an orphan53. I took a secretarial course at the St. Alfred’s Secretarial College. I took a jobas shorthand typist, left it and took another, decided54 I was in the wrong racket, and started on my present career. I havebeen with three different employers. After about a year or eighteen months I get tired of a particular place and moveon. I have been at Yewtree Lodge just over a year. I will type out the names and addresses of my various employersand give them, with a copy of my references to Sergeant—Hay, is it? Will that be satisfactory?”
“Perfectly, Miss Dove.” Neele was silent for a moment, enjoying a mental image of Miss Dove tampering55 with Mr.
Fortescue’s breakfast. His mind went back farther, and he saw her methodically gathering56 yew berries in a littlebasket. With a sigh he returned to the present and reality. “Now, I would like to see the girl—er Gladys—and then thehousemaid, Ellen.” He added as he rose: “By the way, Miss Dove, can you give me any idea why Mr. Fortescue wouldbe carrying loose grain in his pocket?”
“Grain?” she stared at him with what appeared to be genuine surprise.
“Yes—grain. Does that suggest something to you, Miss Dove?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Who looked after his clothes?”
“Crump.”
“I see. Did Mr. Fortescue and Mrs. Fortescue occupy the same bedroom?”
“Yes. He had a dressing57 room and bath, of course, and so did she . . .” Mary glanced down at her wristwatch. “Ireally think that she ought to be back very soon now.”
The inspector had risen. He said in a pleasant voice:
“Do you know one thing, Miss Dove? It strikes me as very odd that even though there are three golf courses in theimmediate neighbourhood, it has yet not been possible to find Mrs. Fortescue on one of them before now?”
“It would not be so odd, Inspector, if she did not actually happen to be playing golf at all.”
Mary’s voice was dry. The inspector said sharply:
“I was distinctly informed that she was playing golf.”
“She took her golf clubs and announced her intention of doing so. She was driving her own car, of course.”
He looked at her steadily, perceiving the inference.
“Who was she playing with? Do you know?”
“I think it possible that it might be Mr. Vivian Dubois.”
Neele contented58 himself by saying: “I see.”
“I’ll send Gladys in to you. She’ll probably be scared to death.” Mary paused for a moment by the door, then shesaid:
“I should hardly advise you to go too much by all I’ve told you. I’m a malicious59 creature.”
She went out. Inspector Neele looked at the closed door and wondered. Whether actuated by malice60 or not, whatshe had told him could not fail to be suggestive. If Rex Fortescue had been deliberately61 poisoned, and it seemedalmost certain that that was the case, then the setup at Yewtree Lodge seemed highly promising62. Motives63 appeared tobe lying thick on the ground.
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appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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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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yew
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| n.紫杉属树木 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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sanitation
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| n.公共卫生，环境卫生，卫生设备 | |
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combustion
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| n.燃烧；氧化；骚动 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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promptly
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middle-aged
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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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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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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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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hearty
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steadily
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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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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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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43
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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estranged
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| adj.疏远的，分离的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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tampering
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| v.窜改( tamper的现在分词 )；篡改；（用不正当手段）影响；瞎摆弄 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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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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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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