MISS MARPLE TAKES ACTION
IM iss Marple read this letter three times—then she laid it aside and sat frowning slightly while she considered theletter and its implications.
The first thought that came to her was that she was left with a surprising lack of definite information. Would therebe any further information coming to her from Mr. Broadribb? Almost certainly she felt that there would be no suchthing. That would not have fitted in with Mr. Rafiel’s plan. Yet how on earth could Mr. Rafiel expect her to doanything, to take any course of action in a matter about which she knew nothing? It was intriguing1. After a fewminutes more for consideration, she decided2 that Mr. Rafiel had meant it to be intriguing. Her thoughts went back tohim, for the brief time that she had known him. His disability, his bad temper, his flashes of brilliance3, of occasionalhumour. He’d enjoy, she thought, teasing people. He had been enjoying, she felt, and this letter made it almost certain,baffling the natural curiosity of Mr. Broadribb.
There was nothing in the letter he had written her to give her the slightest clue as to what this business was allabout. It was no help to her whatsoever4. Mr. Rafiel, she thought, had very definitely not meant it to be of any help. Hehad had—how could she put it?—other ideas. All the same, she could not start out into the blue knowing nothing. Thiscould almost be described as a crossword5 puzzle with no clues given. There would have to be clues. She would haveto know what she was wanted to do, where she was wanted to go, whether she was to solve some problem sitting inher armchair and laying aside her knitting needles in order to concentrate better. Or did Mr. Rafiel intend her to take aplane or a boat to the West Indies or to South America or to some other specially6 directed spot? She would either haveto find out for herself what it was she was meant to do, or else she would have to receive definite instructions. Hemight think she had sufficient ingenuity7 to guess at things, to ask questions, to find out that way? No, she couldn’tquite believe that.
“If he does think that,” said Miss Marple aloud, “he’s gaga. I mean, he was gaga before he died.”
But she didn’t think Mr. Rafiel would have been gaga.
“I shall receive instructions,” said Miss Marple. “But what instructions and when?”
It was only then that it occurred to her suddenly that without noticing it she had definitely accepted the mandate8.
She spoke9 aloud again, addressing the atmosphere.
“I believe in eternal life,” said Miss Marple. “I don’t know exactly where you are, Mr. Rafiel, but I have no doubtthat you are somewhere—I will do my best to fulfil your wishes.”
II
It was three days later when Miss Marple wrote to Mr. Broadribb. It was a very short letter, keeping strictly10 to thepoint.
“Dear Mr. Broadribb,
I have considered the suggestion you made to me and I am letting you know that I have decided to accept theproposal made to me by the late Mr. Rafiel. I shall do my best to comply with his wishes, though I am not at allassured of success. Indeed, I hardly see how it is possible for me to be successful. I have been given no directinstructions in his letter and have not been—I think the term is briefed—in any way. If you have any furthercommunication you are holding for me which sets out definite instructions, I should be glad if you will send it tome, but I imagine that as you have not done so, that is not the case.
I presume that Mr. Rafiel was of sound mind and disposition11 when he died? I think I am justified12 in asking ifthere has been recently in his life any criminal affair in which he might possibly have been interested, either inthe course of his business or in his personal relations. Has he ever expressed to you any anger or dissatisfactionwith some notable miscarriage13 of justice about which he felt strongly? If so, I think I should be justified in askingyou to let me know about it. Has any relation or connection of his suffered some hardship, lately been the victimof some unjust dealing14, or what might be considered as such?
I am sure you will understand my reasons for asking these things. Indeed, Mr. Rafiel himself may haveexpected me to do so.”
III
Mr. Broadribb showed this to Mr. Schuster, who leaned back in his chair and whistled.
“She’s going to take it on, is she? Sporting old bean,” he said. Then he added, “I suppose she knows something ofwhat it’s all about, does she?”
“Apparently not,” said Mr. Broadribb.
“I wish we did,” said Mr. Schuster. “He was an odd cuss.”
“A difficult man,” said Mr. Broadribb.
“I haven’t got the least idea,” said Mr. Schuster, “have you?”
“No, I haven’t,” said Mr. Broadribb. He added, “He didn’t want me to have, I suppose.”
“Well, he’s made things a lot more difficult by doing that. I don’t see the least chance that some old pussy15 from thecountry can interpret a dead man’s brain and know what fantasy was plaguing him. You don’t think he was leadingher up the garden path? Having her on? Sort of joke, you know. Perhaps he thinks that she thinks she’s the cat’swhiskers at solving village problems, but he’s going to teach her a sharp lesson—”
“No,” said Mr. Broadribb, “I don’t quite think that. Rafiel wasn’t that type of man.”
“He was a mischievous16 devil sometimes,” said Mr. Schuster.
“Yes, but not—I think he was serious over this. Something was worrying him. In fact I’m quite sure something wasworrying him.”
“And he didn’t tell you what it was or give you the least idea?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Then how the devil can he expect—” Schuster broke off.
“He can’t really have expected anything to come of this,” said Mr. Broadribb. “I mean, how is she going to setabout it?”
“A practical joke, if you ask me.”
“Twenty thousand pounds is a lot of money.”
“Yes, but if he knows she can’t do it?”
“No,” said Mr. Broadribb. “He wouldn’t have been as unsporting as all that. He must think she’s got a chance ofdoing or finding out whatever it is.”
“And what do we do?”
“Wait,” said Mr. Broadribb. “Wait and see what happens next. After all, there has to be some development.”
“Got some sealed orders somewhere, have you?”
“My dear Schuster,” said Mr. Broadribb, “Mr. Rafiel had implicit17 trust in my discretion18 and in my ethical19 conductas a lawyer. Those sealed instructions are to be opened only under certain circumstances, none of which has yetarisen.”
“And never will,” said Mr. Schuster.
That ended the subject.
IV
Mr. Broadribb and Mr. Schuster were lucky in so much as they had a full professional life to lead. Miss Marple wasnot so fortunate. She knitted and she reflected and she also went out for walks, occasionally remonstrated20 with byCherry for so doing.
“You know what the doctor said. You weren’t to take too much exercise.”
“I walk very slowly,” said Miss Marple, “and I am not doing anything. Digging, I mean, or weeding. I just—well, Ijust put one foot in front of the other and wonder about things.”
“What things?” asked Cherry, with some interest.
“I wish I knew,” said Miss Marple, and asked Cherry to bring her an extra scarf as there was a chilly21 wind.
“What’s fidgeting her, that’s what I would like to know,” said Cherry to her husband as she set before him aChinese plate of rice and a concoction22 of kidneys. “Chinese dinner,” she said.
Her husband nodded approval
“You get a better cook every day,” he said.
“I’m worried about her,” said Cherry. “I’m worried because she’s worried a bit. She had a letter and it stirred herall up.”
“What she needs is to sit quiet,” said Cherry’s husband. “Sit quiet, take it easy, get herself new books from thelibrary, get a friend or two to come and see her.”
“She’s thinking out something,” said Cherry. “Sort of plan. Thinking out how to tackle something, that’s how Ilook at it.”
She broke off the conversation at this stage and took in the coffee tray and put it down by Miss Marple’s side.
“Do you know a woman who lives in a new house somewhere here, she’s called Mrs. Hastings?” asked MissMarple. “And someone called Miss Bartlett, I think it is, who lives with her—”
“What—do you mean the house that’s been all done up and repainted at the end of the village? The people therehaven’t been there very long. I don’t know what their names are. Why do you want to know? They’re not veryinteresting. At least I shouldn’t say they were.”
“Are they related?” asked Miss Marple.
“No. Just friends, I think.”
“I wonder why—” said Miss Marple, and broke off.
“You wondered why what?”
“Nothing,” said Miss Marple. “Clear my little hand desk, will you, and give me my pen and the notepaper. I’mgoing to write a letter.”
“Who to?” said Cherry, with the natural curiosity of her kind.
“To a clergyman’s sister,” said Miss Marple. “His name is Canon Prescott.”
“That’s the one you met abroad, in the West Indies, isn’t it? You showed me his photo in your album.”
“Yes.”
“Not feeling bad, are you? Wanting to write to a clergyman and all that?”
“I’m feeling extremely well,” said Miss Marple, “and I am anxious to get busy on something. It’s just possibleMiss Prescott might help.”
“Dear Miss Prescott,” wrote Miss Marple, “I hope you have not forgotten me. I met you and your brother in theWest Indies, if you remember, at St. Honoré. I hope the dear Canon is well and did not suffer much with hisasthma in the cold weather last winter.
I am writing to ask you if you can possibly let me have the address of Mrs. Walters—Esther Walters—whomyou may remember from the Caribbean days. She was a secretary to Mr. Rafiel. She did give me her address atthe time, but unfortunately I have mislaid it. I was anxious to write to her as I have some horticulturalinformation which she asked me about but which I was not able to tell her at the time. I heard in a roundaboutway the other day that she had married again, but I don’t think my informant was very certain of these facts.
Perhaps you know more about her than I do.
I hope this is not troubling you too much. With kind regards to your brother and best wishes to yourself,Yours sincerely,
Jane Marple.”
Miss Marple felt better when she had despatched this missive.
“At least,” she said, “I’ve started doing something. Not that I hope much from this, but still it might help.”
Miss Prescott answered the letter almost by return of post. She was a most efficient woman. She wrote a pleasantletter and enclosed the address in question.
“I have not heard anything directly about Esther Walters,” she said, “but like you I heard from a friend thatthey had seen a notice of her remarriage. Her name now is, I believe, Mrs. Alderson or Anderson. Her addressis Winslow Lodge23, near Alton, Hants. My brother sends his best wishes to you. It is sad that we live so far apart.
We in the north of England and you south of London. I hope that we may meet on some occasion in the future.
Yours sincerely,
Joan Prescott.”
“Winslow Lodge, Alton,” said Miss Marple, writing it down.
“Not so far away from here, really. No. Not so far away. I could—I don’t know what would be the best method—possibly one of Inch’s taxis. Slightly extravagant24, but if anything results from it, it could be charged as expenses quitelegitimately. Now do I write to her beforehand or do I leave it to chance? I think it would be better really, to leave it tochance. Poor Esther. She could hardly remember me with any affection or kindliness25.”
Miss Marple lost herself in a train of thought that arose from her thoughts. It was quite possible that her actions inthe Caribbean had saved Esther Walters from being murdered in the not far distant future. At any rate, that was MissMarple’s belief, but probably Esther Walters had not believed any such thing. “A nice woman,” said Miss Marple,uttering the words in a soft tone aloud, “a very nice woman. The kind that would so easily marry a bad lot. In fact, thesort of woman that would marry a murderer if she were ever given half a chance. I still consider,” continued MissMarple thoughtfully, sinking her voice still lower, “that I probably saved her life. In fact, I am almost sure of it, but Idon’t think she would agree with that point of view. She probably dislikes me very much. Which makes it moredifficult to use her as a source of information. Still, one can but try. It’s better than sitting here, waiting, waiting,waiting.”
Was Mr. Rafiel perhaps making fun of her when he had written that letter? He was not always a particularly kindlyman—he could be very careless of people’s feelings.
“Anyway,” said Miss Marple, glancing at the clock and deciding that she would have an early night in bed, “whenone thinks of things just before going to sleep, quite often ideas come. It may work out that way.”
V“Sleep well?” asked Cherry, as she put down an early morning tea tray on the table at Miss Marple’s elbow.
“I had a curious dream,” said Miss Marple.
“Nightmare?”
“No, no, nothing of that kind. I was talking to someone, not anyone I knew very well. Just talking. Then when Ilooked, I saw it wasn’t that person at all I was talking to. It was somebody else. Very odd.”
“Bit of a mix up,” said Cherry, helpfully.
“It just reminded me of something,” said Miss Marple, “or rather of someone I once knew. Order Inch for me, willyou? To come here about half past eleven.”
Inch was part of Miss Marple’s past. Originally the proprietor26 of a cab, Mr. Inch had died, been succeeded by hisson “Young Inch,” then aged27 forty-four, who had turned the family business into a garage and acquired two aged cars.
On his decease the garage acquired a new owner. There had been since then Pip’s Cars, James’s Taxis and Arthur’sCar Hire—old inhabitants still spoke of Inch.
“Not going to London, are you?”
“No, I’m not going to London. I shall have lunch perhaps in Haslemere.”
“Now what are you up to now?” said Cherry, looking at her suspiciously.
“Endeavouring to meet someone by accident and make it seem purely28 natural,” said Miss Marple. “Not really veryeasy, but I hope that I can manage it.”
At half past eleven the taxi waited. Miss Marple instructed Cherry.
“Ring up this number, will you, Cherry? Ask if Mrs. Anderson is at home. If Mrs. Anderson answers or if she isgoing to come to the telephone, say a Mr. Broadribb wants to speak to her. You,” said Miss Marple, “are Mr.
Broadribb’s secretary. If she’s out, find out what time she will be in.”
“And if she is in and I get her?”
“Ask what day she could arrange to meet Mr. Broadribb at his office in London next week. When she tells you,make a note of it and ring off.”
“The things you think of! Why all this? Why do you want me to do it?”
“Memory is a curious thing,” said Miss Marple. “Sometimes one remembers a voice even if one hasn’t heard it forover a year.”
“Well, Mrs. What’s-a-name won’t have heard mine at any time, will she?”
“No,” said Miss Marple. “That is why you are making the call.”
Cherry fulfilled her instruction. Mrs. Anderson was out shopping, she learned, but would be in for lunch and all theafternoon.
“Well, that makes things easier,” said Miss Marple. “Is Inch here? Ah yes. Good morning, Edward,” she said, tothe present driver of Arthur’s taxis whose actual name was George. “Now this is where I want you to go. It ought notto take, I think, more than an hour and a half.”
The expedition set off.
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收听单词发音
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1
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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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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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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crossword
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| n.纵横字谜，纵横填字游戏 | |
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6
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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7
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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8
mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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9
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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10
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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11
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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12
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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miscarriage
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| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
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14
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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15
pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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16
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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17
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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18
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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19
ethical
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| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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22
concoction
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| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
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23
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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24
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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25
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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26
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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27
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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28
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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