IL ance and Pat wandered round the well-kept grounds surrounding Yewtree Lodge2.
“I hope I’m not hurting your feelings, Lance,” Pat murmured, “if I say this is quite the nastiest garden I’ve everbeen in.”
“It won’t hurt my feelings,” said Lance. “Is it? Really I don’t know. It seems to have three gardeners working on itvery industriously3.”
Pat said:
“Probably that’s what’s wrong with it. No expense spared, no signs of an individual taste. All the rightrhododendrons and all the right bedding out done in the proper season, I expect.”
“Well, what would you put in an English garden, Pat, if you had one?”
“My garden,” said Pat, “would have hollyhocks, larkspurs and Canterbury bells, no bedding out and none of thesehorrible yews4.”
She glanced up at the dark yew1 hedges, disparagingly5.
“Association of ideas,” said Lance easily.
“There’s something awfully6 frightening about a poisoner,” said Pat. “I mean it must be a horrid7, broodingrevengeful mind.”
“So that’s how you see it? Funny! I just think of it as businesslike and cold-blooded.”
“I suppose one could look at it that way.” She resumed, with a slight shiver, “All the same, to do three murders . . .
Whoever did it must be mad.”
“Yes,” said Lance, in a low voice. “I’m afraid so.” Then breaking out sharply, he said: “For God’s sake, Pat, do goaway from here. Go back to London. Go down to Devonshire or up to the Lakes. Go to Stratford-on-Avon or go andlook at the Norfolk Broads. The police wouldn’t mind your going—you had nothing to do with all this. You were inParis when the old man was killed and in London when the other two died. I tell you it worries me to death to haveyou here.”
Pat paused a moment before saying quietly:
“You know who it is, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“But you think you know . . . That’s why you’re frightened for me . . . I wish you’d tell me.”
“I can’t tell you. I don’t know anything. But I wish to God you’d go away from here.”
“Darling,” said Pat. “I’m not going. I’m staying here. For better, for worse. That’s how I feel about it.” She added,with a sudden catch in her voice: “Only with me it’s always for worse.”
“What on earth do you mean, Pat?”
“I bring bad luck. That’s what I mean. I bring bad luck to anybody I come in contact with.”
“My dear adorable nitwit, you haven’t brought bad luck to me. Look how after I married you the old man sent forme to come home and make friends with him.”
“Yes, and what happened when you did come home? I tell you, I’m unlucky to people.”
“Look here, my sweet, you’ve got a thing about all this. It’s superstition8, pure and simple.”
“I can’t help it. Some people do bring bad luck. I’m one of them.”
Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her violently. “You’re my Pat and to be married to you is the greatestluck in the world. So get that into your silly head.” Then, calming down, he said in a more sober voice: “But,seriously, Pat, do be very careful. If there is someone unhinged round here, I don’t want you to be the one who stopsthe bullet or drinks the henbane.”
“Or drinks the henbane as you say.”
“When I’m not around, stick to that old lady. What’s-her-name Marple. Why do you think Aunt Effie asked her tostay here?”
“Goodness knows why Aunt Effie does anything. Lance, how long are we going to stay here?”
Lance shrugged9 his shoulders.
“Difficult to say.”
“I don’t think,” said Pat, “that we’re really awfully welcome.” She hesitated as she spoke10 the words. “The housebelongs to your brother now, I suppose? He doesn’t really want us here, does he?”
Lance chuckled11 suddenly.
“Not he, but he’s got to stick us for the present at any rate.”
“And afterwards? What are we going to do, Lance? Are we going back to East Africa or what?”
“Is that what you’d like to do, Pat?”
She nodded vigorously.
“That’s lucky,” said Lance, “because it’s what I’d like to do, too. I don’t take much to this country nowadays.”
Pat’s face brightened.
“How lovely. From what you said the other day, I was afraid you might want to stop here.”
A devilish glint appeared in Lance’s eyes.
“You’re to hold your tongue about our plans, Pat,” he said. “I have it in my mind to twist dear brother Percival’stail a bit.”
“Oh, Lance, do be careful.”
“I’ll be careful, my sweet, but I don’t see why old Percy should get away with everything.”
II
With her head a little on one side looking like an amiable12 cockatoo, Miss Marple sat in the large drawing roomlistening to Mrs. Percival Fortescue. Miss Marple looked particularly incongruous in the drawing room. Her lightspare figure was alien to the vast brocaded sofa in which she sat with its many-hued cushions strewn around her. MissMarple sat very upright because she had been taught to use a backboard as a girl, and not to loll. In a large armchairbeside her, dressed in elaborate black, was Mrs. Percival, talking away volubly at nineteen to the dozen. “Exactly,”
thought Miss Marple, “like poor Mrs. Emmett, the bank manager’s wife.” She remembered how one day Mrs. Emmetthad come to call and talk about the selling arrangements for Poppy Day, and how after the preliminary business hadbeen settled, Mrs. Emmett had suddenly begun to talk and talk and talk. Mrs. Emmett occupied rather a difficultposition in St. Mary Mead13. She did not belong to the old guard of ladies in reduced circumstances who lived in neathouses around the church, and who knew intimately all the ramifications14 of the county families even though theymight not be strictly15 county themselves. Mr. Emmett, the bank manager, had undeniably married beneath him and theresult was that his wife was in a position of great loneliness since she could not, of course, associate with the wives ofthe trades people. Snobbery16 here raised its hideous17 head and marooned18 Mrs. Emmett on a permanent island ofloneliness.
The necessity to talk grew upon Mrs. Emmett, and on that particular day it had burst its bounds, and Miss Marplehad received the full flood of the torrent19. She had been sorry for Mrs. Emmett then, and today she was rather sorry forMrs. Percival Fortescue.
Mrs. Percival had had a lot of grievances20 to bear and the relief of airing them to a more or less total stranger wasenormous.
“Of course I never want to complain,” said Mrs. Percival. “I’ve never been of the complaining kind. What I alwayssay is that one must put up with things. What can’t be cured must be endured and I’m sure I’ve never said a word toanyone. It’s really difficult to know who I could have spoken to. In someways one is very isolated21 here—very isolated.
It’s very convenient, of course, and a great saving of expense to have our own set of rooms in this house. But of courseit’s not at all like having a place of your own. I’m sure you agree.”
Miss Marple said she agreed.
“Fortunately our new house is almost ready to move into. It is a question really of getting the painters anddecorators out. These men are so slow. My husband, of course, has been quite satisfied living here. But then it’sdifferent for a man. Don’t you agree?”
Miss Marple agreed that it was very different for a man. She could say this without a qualm as it was what shereally believed. “The gentlemen” were, in Miss Marple’s mind, in a totally different category to her own sex. Theyrequired two eggs plus bacon for breakfast, three good nourishing meals a day and were never to be contradicted orargued with before dinner. Mrs. Percival went on.
“My husband, you see, is away all day in the city. When he comes home he’s just tired and wants to sit down andread. But I, on the contrary, am alone here all day with no congenial company at all. I’ve been perfectly22 comfortableand all that. Excellent food. But what I do feel one needs is a really pleasant social circle. The people round here arereally not my kind. Part of them are what I call a flashy, bridge-playing lot. Not nice bridge. I like a hand at bridgemyself as well as anyone, but of course, they’re all very rich down here. They play for enormously high stakes, andthere’s a great deal of drinking. In fact, the sort of life that I call really fast society. Then, of course, there’s asprinkling of—well, you can only call them old pussies23 who love to potter round with a trowel and do gardening.”
Miss Marple looked slightly guilty since she was herself an inveterate24 gardener.
“I don’t want to say anything against the dead,” resumed Mrs. Percy rapidly, “but there’s no doubt about it, Mr.
Fortescue, my father-in-law, I mean, made a very foolish second marriage. My—well I can’t call her my mother-in-law, she was the same age as I am. The real truth of it is she was man-mad. Absolutely man-mad. And the way shespent money! My father-in-law was an absolute fool about her. Didn’t care what bills she ran up. It vexed25 Percy verymuch, very much indeed. Percy is always so careful about money matters. He hates waste. And then what with Mr.
Fortescue being so peculiar26 and so bad tempered, flashing out in these terrible rages, spending money like waterbacking wildcat schemes. Well—it wasn’t at all nice.”
Miss Marple ventured upon making a remark.
“That must have worried your husband, too?”
“Oh, yes, it did. For the last year Percy’s been very worried indeed. It’s really made him quite different. Hismanner, you know, changed even towards me. Sometimes when I talked to him he used not to answer.” Mrs. Percysighed, then went on: “Then Elaine, my sister-in-law, you know, she’s a very odd sort of girl. Very out of doors and allthat. Not exactly unfriendly, but not sympathetic, you know. She never wanted to go to London and shop, or go to amatinée or anything of that kind. She wasn’t even interested in clothes.” Mrs. Percival sighed again and murmured:
“But of course I don’t want to complain in any way.” A qualm of compunction came over her. She said, hurriedly:
“You must think it most odd, talking to you like this when you are a comparative stranger. But really, what with all thestrain and shock—I think really it’s the shock that matters most. Delayed shock. I feel so nervous, you know, that Ireally—well, I really must speak to someone. You remind me so much of a dear old lady, Miss Trefusis James. Shefractured her femur when she was seventy-five. It was a very long business nursing her and we became great friends.
She gave me a fox fur cape27 when I left and I did think it was kind of her.”
“I know just how you feel,” said Miss Marple.
And this again was true. Mrs. Percival’s husband was obviously bored by her and paid very little attention to her,and the poor woman had managed to make no local friends. Running up to London and shopping, matinées and aluxurious house to live in did not make up for the lack of humanity in her relations with her husband’s family.
“I hope it’s not rude of me to say so,” said Miss Marple in a gentle old lady’s voice, “but I really feel that the lateMr. Fortescue cannot have been a very nice man.”
“He wasn’t,” said his daughter-in-law. “Quite frankly28 my dear, between you and me, he was a detestable old man. Idon’t wonder—I really don’t—that someone put him out of the way.”
“You’ve no idea at all who—” began Miss Marple and broke off. “Oh dear, perhaps this is a question I should notask—not even an idea who—who—well, who it might have been?”
“Oh, I think it was that horrible man Crump,” said Mrs. Percival. “I’ve always disliked him very much. He’s got amanner, not really rude, you know, but yet it is rude. Impertinent, that’s more it.”
“Still, there would have to be a motive29, I suppose.”
“I really don’t know that that sort of person requires much motive. I dare say Mr. Fortescue ticked him off aboutsomething, and I rather suspect that sometimes he drinks too much. But what I really think is that he’s a bitunbalanced, you know. Like that footman, or butler, whoever it was, who went round the house shooting everybody.
Of course, to be quite honest with you, I did suspect that it was Adele who poisoned Mr. Fortescue. But now, ofcourse, one can’t suspect that since she’s been poisoned herself. She may have accused Crump, you know. And thenhe lost his head and perhaps managed to put something in the sandwiches and Gladys saw him do it and so he killedher too—I think it’s really dangerous having him in the house at all. Oh dear, I wish I could get away, but I supposethese horrible policemen won’t let one do anything of the kind.” She leant forward impulsively30 and put a plump handon Miss Marple’s arm. “Sometimes I feel I must get away—that if it doesn’t all stop soon I shall—I shall actually runaway31.”
She leant back studying Miss Marple’s face.
“But perhaps—that wouldn’t be wise?”
“No—I don’t think it would be very wise—the police could soon find you, you know.”
“Could they? Could they really? You think they’re clever enough for that?”
“It is very foolish to underestimate the police. Inspector32 Neele strikes me as a particularly intelligent man.”
“Oh! I thought he was rather stupid.”
Miss Marple shook her head.
“I can’t help feeling”—Jennifer Fortescue hesitated—“that it’s dangerous to stay here.”
“Dangerous for you, you mean?”
“Ye-es—well, yes—”
“Because of something you—know?”
Mrs. Percival seemed to take breath.
“Oh no—of course I don’t know anything. What should I know? It’s just—just that I’m nervous. That man Crump—”
But it was not, Miss Marple thought, of Crump that Mrs. Percival Fortescue was thinking—watching the clenchingand unclenching of Jennifer’s hands. Miss Marple thought that for some reason Jennifer Fortescue was very badlyfrightened indeed.
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yew
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| n.紫杉属树木 | |
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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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industriously
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yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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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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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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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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ramifications
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| n.结果，后果( ramification的名词复数 ) | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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snobbery
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| n. 充绅士气派, 俗不可耐的性格 | |
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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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marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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pussies
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| n.（粗俚） 女阴( pussy的名词复数 )；（总称）（作为性对象的）女人；（主要北美使用，非正式）软弱的；小猫咪 | |
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inveterate
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| adj.积习已深的，根深蒂固的 | |
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vexed
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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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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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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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impulsively
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runaway
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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