IA t No. 16 Aubrey Close, young Mrs. Baker1 was talking to her husband. Jim Baker, a big good-looking blond giant ofa man, was intent on assembling a model construction unit.
“Neighbours!” said Cherry. She gave a toss of her black curly head. “Neighbours!” she said with venom2.
She carefully lifted the frying pan from the stove, then neatly3 shot its contents onto two plates, one rather fullerthan the other. She placed the fuller one before her husband.
“Mixed grill,” she announced.
Jim looked up and sniffed4 appreciatively.
“That’s something like,” he said. “What is today? My birthday?”
“You have to be well nourished,” said Cherry.
She was looking very pretty in a cerise and white striped apron5 with little frills on it. Jim Baker shifted thecomponent parts of a strato-cruiser to make room for his meal. He grinned at his wife and asked:
“Who says so?”
“My Miss Marple for one!” said Cherry. “And if it comes to that,” she added, sitting down opposite Jim andpulling her plate towards her, “I should say she could do with a bit more solid nourishment7 herself. That old cat of aWhite Knight8 of hers, gives her nothing but carbohydrates9. It’s all she can think of! A ‘nice custard,’ a ‘nice bread andbutter pudding,’ a ‘nice macaroni cheese.’ Squashy puddings with pink sauce. And gas, gas, gas, all day. Talks herhead off she does.”
“Oh well,” said Jim vaguely10, “it’s invalid11 diet, I suppose.”
“Invalid diet!” said Cherry and snorted. “Miss Marple isn’t an invalid—she’s just old. Always interfering12, too.”
“Who, Miss Marple?”
“No. That Miss Knight. Telling me how to do things! She even tries to tell me how to cook! I know a lot moreabout cooking than she does.”
“You’re tops for cooking, Cherry,” said Jim appreciatively.
“There’s something to cooking,” said Cherry, “something you can get your teeth into.”
Jim laughed. “I’m getting my teeth into this all right. Why did your Miss Marple say that I needed nourishing? Didshe think I looked run-down, the other day when I came in to fix the bathroom shelf?”
Cherry laughed. “I’ll tell you what she said to me. She said, ‘You’ve got a handsome husband, my dear. A veryhandsome husband.’ Sounds like one of those period books they read aloud on the telly.”
“I hope you agreed with her?” said Jim with a grin.
“I said you were all right.”
“All right indeed! That’s a nice lukewarm way of talking.”
“And then she said ‘You must take care of your husband, my dear. Be sure you feed him properly. Men need plentyof good meat meals, well cooked.’”
“Hear, hear!”
“And she told me to be sure and prepare fresh food for you and not to buy ready-made pies and things and slipthem in the oven to warm up. Not that I do that often,” added Cherry virtuously13.
“You can’t do it too seldom for me,” said Jim. “They don’t taste a bit the same.”
“So long as you notice what you eat,” said Cherry, “and aren’t so taken up with those strato-cruisers and thingsyou’re always building. And don’t tell me you bought that set as a Christmas present for your nephew Michael. Youbought it so that you could play with it yourself.”
“He’s not quite old enough for it yet,” said Jim apologetically.
“And I suppose you’re going on dithering about with it all the evening. What about some music? Did you get thatnew record you were talking about?”
“Yes, I did. Tchaikovski 1812.”
“That’s the loud one with the battle, isn’t it?” said Cherry. She made a face. “Our Mrs. Hartwell won’t half likethat! Neighbours! I’m fed up with neighbours. Always grousing14 and complaining. I don’t know which is the worst.
The Hartwells or the Barnabys. The Hartwells start rapping on the wall as early as twenty to eleven sometimes. It’s abit thick! After all even the telly and the BBC go on later than that. Why shouldn’t we have a bit of music if we like?
And always asking us to turn it down low.”
“You can’t turn these things down low,” said Jim with authority. “You don’t get the tone unless you’ve got thevolume. Everyone knows that. It’s absolutely recognized in musical circles. And what about their cat—always comingover into our garden, digging up the beds, just when I’ve got it nice.”
“I tell you what, Jim. I’m fed up with this place.”
“You didn’t mind your neighbours up in Huddersfield,” remarked Jim.
“It wasn’t the same there,” said Cherry. “I mean, you’re all independent there. If you’re in trouble, somebody’dgive you a hand and you’d give a hand to them. But you don’t interfere15. There’s something about a new estate like thisthat makes people look sideways at their neighbours. Because we’re all new I suppose. The amount of backbiting16 andtale-telling and writing to the council and one thing and another round here beats me! People in real towns are toobusy for it.”
“You may have something there, my girl.”
“D’you like it here, Jim?”
“The job’s all right. And after all, this is a brand new house. I wish there was a bit more room in it so that I couldspread myself a bit more. It would be fine if I could have a workshop.”
“I thought it was lovely at first,” said Cherry, “but now I’m not so sure. The house is all right and I love the bluepaint and the bathroom’s nice, but I don’t like the people and the feeling round here. Did I tell you that Lily Price andthat Harry17 of hers have broken off? It was a funny business that day in that house they went to look over. You knowwhen she more or less fell out of the window. She said Harry just stood there like a stuck pig.”
“I’m glad she’s broken off with him. He’s a no-good if I ever saw one,” said Jim.
“No good marrying a chap just because a baby’s on the way,” said Cherry. “He didn’t want to marry her, youknow. He’s not a very nice fellow. Miss Marple said he wasn’t,” she added thoughtfully. “She spoke18 to Lily abouthim. Lily thought she was crackers19.”
“Miss Marple? I didn’t know she’d ever seen him?”
“Oh yes, she was round here walking the day she fell down and Mrs. Badcock picked her up and took her into herhouse. Do you think Arthur and Mrs. Bain will make a match of it?”
Jim frowned as he picked up a bit of strato-cruiser and consulted the instructional diagram.
“I do wish you’d listen when I’m talking,” said Cherry.
“What did you say?”
“Arthur Badcock and Mary Bain.”
“For the Lord’s sake, Cherry, his wife’s only just dead! You women! I’ve heard he’s in a terrible state of nervesstill—jumps if you speak to him.”
“I wonder why… I shouldn’t have thought he’d take it that way, would you?”
“Can you clear off this end of the table a bit?” said Jim, relinquishing20 even a passing interest in the affairs of hisneighbours. “Just so that I can spread some of these pieces out a bit.”
Cherry heaved an exasperated21 sigh.
“To get any attention round here, you have to be a super jet, or a turbo prop,” she said bitterly. “You and yourconstruction models!”
She piled the tray with the remains22 of supper and carried it over to the sink. She decided23 not to wash up, a necessityof daily life she always put off as long as possible. Instead, she piled everything into the sink, haphazard24, slipped on acorduroy jacket and went out of the house, pausing to call over her shoulder:
“I’m just going to slip along to see Gladys Dixon. I want to borrow one of her Vogue25 patterns.”
“All right, old girl.” Jim bent26 over his model.
Casting a venomous look at her next-door neighbour’s front door as she passed, Cherry went round the corner intoBlenheim Close and stopped at No. 16. The door was open and Cherry tapped on it and went into the hall calling out:
“Is Gladdy about?”
“Is that you, Cherry?” Mrs. Dixon looked out of the kitchen. “She’s upstairs in her room, dressmaking.”
“Right. I’ll go up.”
Cherry went upstairs to a small bedroom in which Gladys, a plump girl with a plain face, was kneeling on the floor,her cheeks flushed, and several pins in her mouth, tacking27 up a paper pattern.
“Hallo, Cherry. Look, I got a lovely bit of stuff at Harper’s sale at Much Benham. I’m going to do that crossoverpattern with frills again, the one I did in Terylene before.”
“That’ll be nice,” said Cherry.
Gladys rose to her feet, panting a little.
“Got indigestion now,” she said.
“You oughtn’t to do dressmaking right after supper,” said Cherry, “bending over like that.”
“I suppose I ought to slim a bit,” said Gladys. She sat down on the bed.
“Any news from the studios?” asked Cherry, always avid28 for film news.
“Nothing much. There’s a lot of talk still. Marina Gregg came back on the set yesterday — and she createdsomething frightful29.”
“What about?”
“She didn’t like the taste of her coffee. You know, they have coffee in the middle of the morning. She took one sipand said there was something wrong with it. Which was nonsense, of course. There couldn’t have been. It comes in ajug straight from the canteen. Of course I always put hers in a special china cup, rather posh—different from the others—but it’s the same coffee. So there couldn’t have been anything wrong with it, could there?”
“Nerves, I suppose,” said Cherry. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing. Mr. Rudd just calmed everyone down. He’s wonderful that way. He took the coffee from her andpoured it down the sink.”
“That seems to be rather stupid,” said Cherry slowly.
“Why—what do you mean?”
“Well, if there was anything wrong with it—now nobody will ever know.”
“Do you think there really might have been?” asked Gladys looking alarmed.
“Well—” Cherry shrugged30 her shoulders, “—there was something wrong with her cocktail31 the day of the fête,wasn’t there, so why not the coffee? If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.”
Gladys shivered.
“I don’t half like it, Cherry,” she said. “Somebody’s got it in for her all right. She’s had more letters, you know,threatening her—and there was that bust32 business the other day.”
“What bust business?”
“A marble bust. On the set. It’s a corner of a room in some Austrian palace or other. Funny name like Shotbrown.
Pictures and china and marble busts33. This one was up on a bracket—suppose it hadn’t been pushed back enough.
Anway, a heavy lorry went past out in the road and jarred it off—right onto the chair where Marina sits for her bigscene with Count Somebody-or-other. Smashed to smithereens! Lucky they weren’t shooting at the time. Mr. Rudd, hesaid not to say a word to her, and he put another chair there, and when she came yesterday and asked why the chairhad been changed, he said the other chair was the wrong period, and this gave a better angle for the camera. But hedidn’t half like it—I can tell you that.”
The two girls looked at each other.
“It’s exciting in a way,” said Cherry slowly. “And yet—it isn’t….”
“I think I’m going to give up working in the canteen at the studios,” said Gladys.
“Why? Nobody wants to poison you or drop marble busts on your head!”
“No. But it’s not always the person who’s meant to get done in who gets done in. It may be someone else. LikeHeather Badcock that day.”
“True enough,” said Cherry.
“You know,” said Gladys, “I’ve been thinking. I was at the Hall that day, helping34. I was quite close to them at thetime.”
“When Heather died?”
“No, when she spilt the cocktail. All down her dress. A lovely dress it was, too, royal blue nylon taffeta. She’d gotit quite new for the occasion. And it was funny.”
“What was funny?”
“I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But it does seem funny when I think it over.”
Cherry looked at her expectantly. She accepted the adjective “funny” in the sense that it was meant. It was notintended humorously.
“For goodness’ sake, what was funny?” she demanded.
“I’m almost sure she did it on purpose.”
“Spilt the cocktail on purpose?”
“Yes. And I do think that was funny, don’t you?”
“On a brand-new dress? I don’t believe it.”
“I wonder now,” said Gladys, “what Arthur Badcock will do with all Heather’s clothes. That dress would clean allright. Or I could take out half a breadth, it’s a lovely full skirt. Do you think Arthur Badcock would think it very awfulof me if I wanted to buy it off him? It would need hardly any alteration—and it’s lovely stuff.”
“You wouldn’t—” Cherry hesitated “—mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Well—having a dress that a woman had died in—I mean died that way….”
Gladys stared at her.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. She considered for a moment or two. Then she cheered up.
“I can’t see that it really matters,” she said. “After all, every time you buy something secondhand, somebody’susually worn it who has died, haven’t they?”
“Yes. But it’s not quite the same.”
“I think you’re being fanciful,” said Gladys. “It’s a lovely bright shade of blue, and really expensive stuff. Aboutthat funny business,” she continued thoughtfully, “I think I’ll go up to the hall tomorrow morning on my way to workand have a word with Mr. Giuseppe about it.”
“Is he the Italian butler?”
“Yes. He’s awfully35 handsome. Flashing eyes. He’s got a terrible temper. When we go and help there, he chivviesus girls something terrible.” She giggled36. “But none of us really mind. He can be awfully nice sometimes… Anyway, Imight just tell him about it, and ask him what I ought to do.”
“I don’t see that you’ve got anything to tell,” said Cherry.
“Well, it was funny,” said Gladys, defiantly37 clinging to her favourite adjective.
“I think,” said Cherry, “that you just want an excuse to go and talk to Mr. Giuseppe—and you’d better be careful,my girl. You know what these wops are like! Affiliation38 orders all over the place. Hot-blooded and passionate39, that’swhat these Italians are.”
Gladys sighed ecstatically.
Cherry looked at her friend’s fat slightly spotted40 face and decided that her warnings were unnecessary. Mr.
Giuseppe, she thought, would have better fish to fry elsewhere.
II
“Aha!” said Dr. Haydock, “unravelling41, I see.”
He looked from Miss Marple to a pile of fluffy43 white fleecy wool.
“You advised me to try unravelling if I couldn’t knit,” said Miss Marple.
“You seem to have been very thorough about it.”
“I made a mistake in the pattern right at the beginning. That made the whole thing go out of proportion, so I’ve hadto unravel42 it all. It’s a very elaborate pattern, you see.”
“What are elaborate patterns to you? Nothing at all.”
“I ought really, I suppose, with my bad eyesight, to stick to plain knitting.”
“You’d find that very boring. Well, I’m flattered that you took my advice.”
“Don’t I always take your advice, Doctor Haydock?”
“You do when it suits you,” said Dr. Haydock.
“Tell me, Doctor, was it really knitting you had in mind when you gave me that advice?”
He met the twinkle in her eyes and twinkled back at her.
“How are you getting on with unravelling the murder?” he asked.
“I’m afraid my faculties44 aren’t quite what they were,” said Miss Marple, shaking her head with a sigh.
“Nonsense,” said Dr. Haydock. “Don’t tell me you haven’t formed some conclusions.”
“Of course I have formed conclusions. Very definite ones.”
“Such as?” asked Haydock inquiringly.
“If the cocktail glass was tampered45 with that day—and I don’t see quite how that could have been done—”
“Might have had the stuff ready in an eyedropper,” suggested Haydock.
“You are so professional,” said Miss Marple admiringly. “But even then it seems to me so very peculiar46 thatnobody saw it happen.”
“Murder should not only be done, but be seen done! Is that it?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Miss Marple.
“That was a chance the murderer had to take,” said Haydock.
“Oh quite so. I’m not disputing that for a moment. But there were, I have found by inquiry47 and adding up thepersons, at least eighteen to twenty people on the spot. It seems to me that amongst twenty people somebody musthave seen that action occur.”
Haydock nodded. “One would think so, certainly. But obviously no one did.”
“I wonder,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully.
“What have you got in mind exactly?”
“Well, there are three possibilities. I’m assuming that at least one person would have seen something. One out oftwenty. I think it’s only reasonable to assume that.”
“I think you’re begging the question,” said Haydock, “and I can see looming48 ahead one of those terrible exercisesin probability where six men have white hats and six men have black and you have to work it out by mathematics howlikely it is that the hats will get mixed-up and in what proportion. If you start thinking about things like that you wouldgo round the bend. Let me assure you of that!”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything like that,” said Miss Marple. “I was just thinking of what is likely—”
“Yes,” said Haydock thoughtfully, “you’re very good at that. You always have been.”
“It is likely, you know,” said Miss Marple, “that out of twenty people one at least should be an observant one.”
“I give in,” said Haydock. “Let’s have the three possibilities.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to put them in rather sketchily,” said Miss Marple. “I haven’t quite thought it out. InspectorCraddock, and probably Frank Cornish before him, will have questioned everybody who was there so the natural thingwould be that whoever saw anything of the kind would have said so at once.”
“Is that one of the possibilities?”
“No, of course it isn’t,” said Miss Marple, “because it hasn’t happened. What you have to account for is if oneperson did see something why didn’t that person say so?”
“I’m listening.”
“Possibility One,” said Miss Marple, her cheeks going pink with animation49. “The person who saw it didn’t realisewhat they had seen. That would mean, of course, that it would have to be rather a stupid person. Someone, let us say,who can use their eyes but not their brain. The sort of person who, if you asked them. ‘Did you see anyone putanything in Marina Gregg’s glass?’ would answer, ‘Oh, no,’ but if you said ‘Did you see anyone put their hand overthe top of Marina Gregg’s glass?’ would say ‘Oh, yes, of course I did.’”
Haydock laughed. “I admit,” he said, “that one never quite allows for the moron50 in our midst. All right, I grant youPossibility One. The moron saw it, the moron didn’t grasp what the action meant. And the second possibility?”
“This one’s far-fetched, but I do think it is just a possibility. It might have been a person whose action in puttingsomething in a glass was natural.”
“Wait, wait, explain that a little more clearly.”
“It seems to me nowadays,” said Miss Marple, “that people are always adding things to what they eat and drink. Inmy young days it was considered to be very bad manners to take medicines with one’s meals. It was on a par6 withblowing your nose at the dinner table. It just wasn’t done. If you had to take pills or capsules, or a spoonful ofsomething, you went out of the room to do so. That’s not the case now. When staying with my nephew Raymond, Iobserved some of his guests seemed to arrive with quite a quantity of little bottles of pills and tablets. They take themwith food, or before food, or after food. They keep aspirins and such things in their handbags and take them the wholetime—with cups of tea or with their after-dinner coffee. You understand what I mean?”
“Oh, yes,” said Dr. Haydock, “I’ve got your meaning now and it’s interesting. You mean that someone—” Hestopped. “Let’s have it in your own words.”
“I meant,” said Miss Marple, “that it would be quite possible, audacious but possible, for someone to pick up thatglass which as soon as it was in his or her hand, of course, would be assumed to be his or her own drink and to addwhatever was added quite openly. In that case, you see, people wouldn’t think twice of it.”
“He—or she—couldn’t be sure of that, though,” Haydock pointed51 out.
“No,” agreed Miss Marple, “it would be a gamble, a risk—but it could happen. And then,” she went on, “there’sthe third possibility.”
“Possibility One, a moron,” said the doctor. “Possibility Two, a gambler—what’s Possibility Three?”
“Somebody saw what happened, and has held their tongue deliberately52.”
Haydock frowned. “For what reason?” he asked. “Are you suggesting blackmail53? If so—”
“If so,” said Miss Marple, “it’s a very dangerous thing to do.”
“Yes, indeed.” He looked sharply at the placid54 old lady with the white fleecy garment on her lap. “Is the thirdpossibility the one you consider the most probable one?”
“No,” said Miss Marple, “I wouldn’t go so far as that. I have, at the moment, insufficient55 grounds. Unless,” sheadded carefully, “someone else gets killed.”
“Do you think someone else is going to get killed?”
“I hope not,” said Miss Marple. “I trust and pray not. But it so often happens, Doctor Haydock. That’s the sad andfrightening thing. It so often happens.”
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1
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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carbohydrates
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| n.碳水化合物，糖类( carbohydrate的名词复数 )；淀粉质或糖类食物 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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virtuously
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| 合乎道德地，善良地 | |
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grousing
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| v.抱怨，发牢骚( grouse的现在分词 ) | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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backbiting
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| 背后诽谤 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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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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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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relinquishing
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的现在分词 )； 放弃 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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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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haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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Vogue
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| n.时髦，时尚；adj.流行的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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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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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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busts
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| 半身雕塑像( bust的名词复数 )； 妇女的胸部； 胸围； 突击搜捕 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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affiliation
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| n.联系，联合 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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unravelling
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的现在分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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42
unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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44
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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tampered
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| v.窜改( tamper的过去式 )；篡改；（用不正当手段）影响；瞎摆弄 | |
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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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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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moron
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| n.极蠢之人，低能儿 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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