ESTHER WALTERS
E sther Anderson came out of the Supermarket and went towards where she had parked her car. Parking grew moredifficult every day, she thought. She collided with somebody, an elderly woman limping a little who was walkingtowards her. She apologized, and the other woman made an exclamation1.
“Why, indeed, it’s—surely—it’s Mrs. Walters, isn’t it? Esther Walters? You don’t remember me, I expect. JaneMarple. We met in the hotel in St. Honoré, oh—quite a long time ago. A year and a half.”
“Miss Marple? So it is, of course. Fancy seeing you!”
“How very nice to see you. I am lunching with some friends near here but I have to pass back through Alton later.
Will you be at home this afternoon? I should so like to have a nice chat with you. It’s so nice to see an old friend.”
“Yes, of course. Anytime after 3 o’clock.”
The arrangement was ratified2.
“Old Jane Marple,” said Esther Anderson, smiling to herself. “Fancy her turning up. I thought she’d died a longtime ago.”
Miss Marple rang the bell of Winslow Lodge3 at 3:30 precisely4. Esther opened the door to her and brought her in.
Miss Marple sat down in the chair indicated to her, fluttering a little in the restless manner that she adopted whenslightly flustered5. Or at any rate, when she was seeming to be slightly flustered. In this case it was misleading, sincethings had happened exactly as she had hoped they would happen.
“It’s so nice to see you,” she said to Esther. “So very nice to see you again. You know, I do think things are so veryodd in this world. You hope you’ll meet people again and you’re quite sure you will. And then time passes andsuddenly it’s all such a surprise.”
“And then,” said Esther, “one says it’s a small world, doesn’t one?”
“Yes, indeed, and I think there is something in that. I mean it does seem a very large world and the West Indies aresuch a very long way away from England. Well, I mean, of course I might have met you anywhere. In London or atHarrods. On a railway station or in a bus. There are so many possibilities.”
“Yes, there are a lot of possibilities,” said Esther. “I certainly shouldn’t have expected to meet you just herebecause this isn’t really quite your part of the world, is it?”
“No. No, it isn’t. Not that you’re really so very far from St. Mary Mead6 where I live. Actually, I think it’s onlyabout twenty-five miles. But twenty-five miles in the country, when one hasn’t got a car—and of course I couldn’tafford a car, and anyway, I mean, I can’t drive a car—so it wouldn’t be much to the point, so one really only does seeone’s neighbours on the bus route, or else go by a taxi from the village.”
“You’re looking wonderfully well,” said Esther.
“I was just going to say you were looking wonderfully well, my dear. I had no idea you lived in this part of theworld.”
“I have only done so for a short time. Since my marriage, actually.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. How interesting. I suppose I must have missed it. I always do look down the marriages.”
“I’ve been married four or five months,” said Esther. “My name is Anderson now.”
“Mrs. Anderson,” said Miss Marple. “Yes. I must try and remember that. And your husband?”
It would be unnatural7, she thought, if she did not ask about the husband. Old maids were notoriously inquisitive8.
“He is an engineer,” said Esther. “He runs the Time and Motion Branch. He is,” she hesitated—“a little youngerthan I am.”
“Much better,” said Miss Marple immediately. “Oh, much better, my dear. In these days men age so much quickerthan women. I know it used not to be said so, but actually it’s true. I mean, they get more things the matter with them.
I think, perhaps, they worry and work too much. And then they get high blood pressure or low blood pressure orsometimes a little heart trouble. They’re rather prone9 to gastric10 ulcers11, too. I don’t think we worry so much, you know.
I think we’re a tougher sex.”
“Perhaps we are,” said Esther.
She smiled now at Miss Marple, and Miss Marple felt reassured12. The last time she had seen Esther, Esther hadlooked as though she hated her and probably she had hated her at that moment. But now, well now, perhaps, she mighteven feel slightly grateful. She might have realized that she, herself, might even have been under a stone slab13 in arespectable churchyard, instead of living a presumably happy life with Mr. Anderson.
“You look very well,” she said, “and very gay.”
“So do you, Miss Marple.”
“Well, of course, I am rather older now. And one has so many ailments14. I mean, not desperate ones, nothing of thatkind, but I mean one has always some kind of rheumatism15 or some kind of ache and pain somewhere. One’s feet arenot what one would like feet to be. And there’s usually one’s back or a shoulder or painful hands. Oh, dear, oneshouldn’t talk about these things. What a very nice house you have.”
“Yes, we haven’t been in it very long. We moved in about four months ago.”
Miss Marple looked round. She had rather thought that that was the case. She thought, too, that when they hadmoved in they had moved in on quite a handsome scale. The furniture was expensive, it was comfortable, comfortableand just this side of luxury. Good curtains, good covers, no particular artistic16 taste displayed, but then she would nothave expected that. She thought she knew the reason for this appearance of prosperity. She thought it had come abouton the strength of the late Mr. Rafiel’s handsome legacy17 to Esther. She was glad to think that Mr. Rafiel had notchanged his mind.
“I expect you saw the notice of Mr. Rafiel’s death,” said Esther, speaking almost as if she knew what was in MissMarple’s mind.
“Yes. Yes, indeed I did. It was about a month ago now, wasn’t it? I was so sorry. Very distressed18 really, although,well, I suppose one knew—he almost admitted it himself, didn’t he? He hinted several times that it wouldn’t be verylong. I think he was quite a brave man about it all, don’t you?”
“Yes, he was a very brave man, and a very kind one really,” said Esther. “He told me, you know, when I firstworked for him, that he was going to give me a very good salary but that I would have to save out of it because Ineedn’t expect to have anything more from him. Well, I certainly didn’t expect to have anything more from him. Hewas very much a man of his word, wasn’t he? But apparently19 he changed his mind.”
“Yes,” said Miss Marple. “Yes. I am very glad of that. I thought perhaps—not that he, of course, said anything—but I wondered.”
“He left me a very big legacy,” said Esther. “A surprisingly large sum of money. It came as a very great surprise. Icould hardly believe it at first.”
“I think he wanted it to be a surprise to you. I think he was perhaps that kind of man,” said Miss Marple. Sheadded: “Did he leave anything to—oh, what was his name?—the man attendant, the nurse-attendant?”
“Oh, you mean Jackson? No, he didn’t leave anything to Jackson, but I believe he made him some handsomepresents in the last year.”
“Have you ever seen anything more of Jackson?”
“No. No, I don’t think I’ve met him once since the time out in the islands. He didn’t stay with Mr. Rafiel after theygot back to England. I think he went to Lord somebody who lives in Jersey20 or Guernsey.”
“I would like to have seen Mr. Rafiel again,” said Miss Marple. “It seems odd after we’d all been mixed up so. Heand you and I and some others. And then, later, when I’d come home, when six months had passed—it occurred to meone day how closely associated we had been in our time of stress, and yet how little I really knew about Mr. Rafiel. Iwas thinking it only the other day, after I’d seen the notice of his death. I wished I could know a little more. Where hewas born, you know, and his parents. What they were like. Whether he had any children, or nephews or cousins or anyfamily. I would so like to know.”
Esther Anderson smiled slightly. She looked at Miss Marple and her expression seemed to say “Yes, I’m sure youalways want to know everything of that kind about everyone you meet.” But she merely said:
“No, there was really only one thing that everyone did know about him.”
“That he was very rich,” said Miss Marple immediately. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it? When you know thatsomeone is very rich, somehow, well, you don’t ask anymore. I mean you don’t ask to know anymore. You say ‘He isvery rich’ or you say ‘He is enormously rich,’ and your voice just goes down a little because it’s so impressive, isn’t it,when you meet someone who is immensely rich.”
Esther laughed slightly.
“He wasn’t married, was he?” asked Miss Marple. “He never mentioned a wife.”
“He lost his wife many years ago. Quite soon after they were married, I believe. I believe she was much youngerthan he was—I think she died of cancer. Very sad.”
“Had he children?”
“Oh yes, two daughters, and a son. One daughter is married and lives in America. The other daughter died young, Ibelieve. I met the American one once. She wasn’t at all like her father. Rather a quiet, depressed21 looking youngwoman.” She added, “Mr. Rafiel never spoke22 about the son. I rather think that there had been trouble there. A scandalor something of that kind. I believe he died some years ago. Anyway—his father never mentioned him.”
“Oh dear. That was very sad.”
“I think it happened quite a long time ago. I believe he took off for somewhere or other abroad and never cameback—died out there, wherever it was.”
“Was Mr. Rafiel very upset about it?”
“One wouldn’t know with him,” said Esther. “He was the kind of man who would always decide to cut his losses.
If his son turned out to be unsatisfactory, a burden instead of a blessing23, I think he would just shrug24 the whole thingoff. Do what was necessary perhaps in the way of sending him money for support, but never thinking of him again.”
“One wonders,” said Miss Marple. “He never spoke of him or said anything?”
“If you remember, he was a man who never said anything much about personal feelings or his own life.”
“No. No, of course not. But I thought perhaps, you having been—well, his secretary for so many years, that hemight have confided25 any troubles to you.”
“He was not a man for confiding26 troubles,” said Esther. “If he had any, which I rather doubt. He was wedded27 to hisbusiness, one might say. He was father to his business and his business was the only kind of son or daughter that hehad that mattered, I think. He enjoyed it all, investment, making money. Business coups—”
“Call no man happy until he is dead —” murmured Miss Marple, repeating the words in the manner of onepronouncing them as a kind of slogan, which indeed they appeared to be in these days, or so she would have said.
“So there was nothing especially worrying him, was there, before his death?”
“No. Why should you think so?” Esther sounded surprised.
“Well, I didn’t actually think so,” said Miss Marple, “I just wondered because things do worry people more whenthey are—I won’t say getting old—because he really wasn’t old, but I mean things worry you more when you are laidup and can’t do as much as you did and have to take things easy. Then worries just come into your mind and makethemselves felt.”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” said Esther. “But I don’t think Mr. Rafiel was like that. Anyway,” she added, “Iceased being his secretary some time ago. Two or three months after I met Edmund.”
“Ah yes. Your husband. Mr. Rafiel must have been very upset at losing you.”
“Oh I don’t think so,” said Esther lightly. “He was not one who would be upset over that sort of thing. He’dimmediately get another secretary—which he did. And then if she didn’t suit him he’d just get rid of her with a kindlygolden handshake and get somebody else, till he found somebody who suited him. He was an intensely sensible manalways.”
“Yes. Yes, I can see that. Though he could lose his temper very easily.”
“Oh, he enjoyed losing his temper,” said Esther. “It made a bit of drama for him, I think.”
“Drama,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully. “Do you think—I have often wondered—do you think that Mr. Rafiel hadany particular interest in criminology, the study of it, I mean? He—well, I don’t know….”
“You mean because of what happened in the Caribbean?” Esther’s voice had gone suddenly hard.
Miss Marple felt doubtful of going on, and yet she must somehow or other try and get a little helpful knowledge.
“Well, no, not because of that, but afterwards, perhaps, he wondered about the psychology28 of these things. Or hegot interested in the cases where justice had not been administered properly or—oh, well….”
She sounded more scatty every minute.
“Why should he take the least interest in anything of that kind? And don’t let’s talk about that horrible business inSt. Honoré.”
“Oh no, I think you are quite right. I’m sure I’m very sorry. I was just thinking of some of the things that Mr. Rafielsometimes said. Queer turns of phrase, sometimes, and I just wondered if he had any theories, you know … about thecauses of crime?”
“His interests were always entirely29 financial,” said Esther shortly. “A really clever swindle of a criminal kind mighthave interested him, nothing else—”
She was looking coldly still at Miss Marple.
“I am sorry,” said Miss Marple apologetically. “I—I shouldn’t have talked about distressing30 matters that arefortunately past. And I must be getting on my way,” she added. “I have got my train to catch and I shall only just havetime. Oh dear, what did I do with my bag—oh yes, here it is.”
She collected her bag, umbrella and a few other things, fussing away until the tension had slightly abated31. As shewent out of the door, she turned to Esther who was urging her to stay and have a cup of tea.
“No thank you, my dear, I’m so short of time. I’m very pleased to have seen you again and I do offer my bestcongratulations and hopes for a very happy life. I don’t suppose you will be taking up any post again now, will you?”
“Oh, some people do. They find it interesting, they say. They get bored when they have nothing to do. But I think Ishall rather enjoy living a life of leisure. I shall enjoy my legacy, too, that Mr. Rafiel left me. It was very kind of himand I think he’d want me—well, to enjoy it even if I spent it in what he’d think of perhaps as a rather silly, femaleway! Expensive clothes and a new hairdo and all that. He’d have thought that sort of thing very silly.” She addedsuddenly, “I was fond of him, you know. Yes, I was quite fond of him. I think it was because he was a sort ofchallenge to me. He was difficult to get on with, and therefore I enjoyed managing it.”
“And managing him?”
“Well, not quite managing him, but perhaps a little more than he knew I was.”
Miss Marple trotted32 away down the road. She looked back once and waved her hand—Esther Anderson was stillstanding on the doorstep, and she waved back cheerfully.
“I thought this might have been something to do with her or something she knew about,” said Miss Marple toherself. “I think I’m wrong. No. I don’t think she’s concerned in this business, whatever it is, in any way. Oh dear, Ifeel Mr. Rafiel expected me to be much cleverer than I am being. I think he expected me to put things together—butwhat things? And what do I do next, I wonder?” She shook her head.
She had to think over things very carefully. This business had been, as it were, left to her. Left to her to refuse, toaccept, to understand what it was all about? Or not understand anything, but to go forward and hope that some kind ofguidance might be given to her. Occasionally she closed her eyes and tried to picture Mr. Rafiel’s face. Sitting in thegarden of the hotel in the West Indies, in his tropical suit; his bad-tempered33 corrugated34 face, his flashes of occasionalhumour. What she really wanted to know was what had been in his mind when he worked up this scheme, when he setout to bring it about. To lure35 her into accepting it, to persuade her to accept it, to—well, perhaps one should say—tobully her into accepting it. The third was much the most likely, knowing Mr. Rafiel. And yet, take it that he hadwanted something done and he had chosen her, settled upon her to do it. Why? Because she had suddenly come intohis mind? But why should she have come into his mind?
She thought back to Mr. Rafiel and the things that had occurred at St. Honoré. Had perhaps the problem he hadbeen considering at the time of his death sent his mind back to that visit to the West Indies? Was it in some wayconnected with someone who had been out there, who had taken part or been an onlooker36 there and was that what hadput Miss Marple into his mind? Was there some link or some connection? If not, why should he suddenly think of her?
What was it about her that could make her useful to him, in any way at all? She was an elderly, rather scatty, quiteordinary person, physically37 not very strong, mentally not nearly as alert as she used to be. What had been her specialqualifications, if any? She couldn’t think of any. Could it possibly have been a bit of fun on Mr. Rafiel’s part? Even ifMr. Rafiel had been on the point of death he might have wanted to have some kind of joke that suited his peculiarsense of humour.
She could not deny that Mr. Rafiel could quite possibly wish to have a joke, even on his deathbed. Some ironicalhumour of his might be satisfied.
“I must,” said Miss Marple to herself firmly, “I must have some qualification for something.” After all, since Mr.
Rafiel was no longer in this world, he could not enjoy his joke at firsthand. What qualifications had she got? “Whatqualities have I got that could be useful to anyone for anything?” said Miss Marple.
She considered herself with proper humility38. She was inquisitive, she asked questions, she was the sort of age andtype that could be expected to ask questions. That was one point, a possible point. You could send a private detectiveround to ask questions, or some psychological investigator39, but it was true that you could much more easily send anelderly lady with a habit of snooping and being inquisitive, of talking too much, of wanting to find out about things,and it would seem perfectly40 natural.
“An old pussy41,” said Miss Marple to herself. “Yes, I can see I’m quite recognizable as an old pussy. There are somany old pussies42, and they’re all so much alike. And, of course, yes, I’m very ordinary. An ordinary rather scatty oldlady. And that of course is very good camouflage43. Dear me, I wonder if I’m thinking on the right lines. I do,sometimes, know what people are like. I mean, I know what people are like, because they remind me of certain otherpeople I have known. So I know some of their faults and some of their virtues44. I know what kind of people they are.
There’s that.”
She thought again of St. Honoré and the Hotel of the Golden Palm. She had made one attempt to enquire45 into thepossibilities of a link, by her visit to Esther Walters. That had been definitely nonproductive, Miss Marple decided46.
There didn’t seem any further link leading from there. Nothing that would tie up with his request that Miss Marpleshould busy herself with something, the nature of which she still had no idea!
“Dear me,” said Miss Marple, “what a tiresome47 man you are, Mr. Rafiel!” She said it aloud and there was definitereproach in her voice.
Later, however, as she climbed into bed and applied48 her cosy49 hot water bottle to the most painful portion of herrheumatic back, she spoke again—in what might be taken as a semi-apology.
“I’ve done the best I could,” she said.
She spoke aloud with the air of addressing one who might easily be in the room. It is true he might be anywhere,but even then there might be some telepathic or telephonic communication, and if so, she was going to speak definitelyand to the point.
“I’ve done all I could. The best according to my limitations, and I must now leave it up to you.”
With that she settled herself more comfortably, stretched out a hand, switched off the electric light, and went tosleep.
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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ratified
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| v.批准，签认（合约等）( ratify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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prone
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gastric
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| adj.胃的 | |
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ulcers
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| n.溃疡( ulcer的名词复数 )；腐烂物；道德败坏；腐败 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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jersey
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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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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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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bad-tempered
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| adj.脾气坏的 | |
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corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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investigator
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| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
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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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pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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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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camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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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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47
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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48
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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