ACCIDENT
IM iss Marple’s tea was brought at seven thirty the following morning so as to allow her plenty of time to get up andpack her few belongings1. She was just closing her small suitcase when there was a rather hurried tap on the door andClotilde came in, looking upset.
“Oh dear, Miss Marple, there is a young man downstairs who has called to see you. Emlyn Price. He is on the tourwith you and they sent him here.”
“Of course, I remember him. Yes. Quite young?”
“Oh yes. Very modern-looking, and a lot of hair and all that, but he has really come to—well, to break some badnews to you. There has been, I am sorry to say, an accident.”
“An accident?” Miss Marple stared. “You mean—to the coach? There has been an accident on the road? Someonehas been hurt?”
“No. No, it was not the coach. There was no trouble there. It was in the course of the expedition yesterdayafternoon. There was a great deal of wind you may remember, though I don’t think that had anything to do with it.
People strayed about a bit, I think. There is a regular path, but you can also climb up and go across the downs. Bothways lead to the Memorial Tower on the top of Bonaventure—where they were all making for. People got separated abit and I suppose, really, there was no one actually guiding them or looking after them which, perhaps, there ought tohave been. People aren’t very sure-footed always and the slope overhanging the gorge2 is very steep. There was a badfall of stones or rocks which came crashing down the hillside and knocked someone out on the path below.”
“Oh dear,” said Miss Marple, “I am sorry. I am most terribly sorry. Who was it who was hurt?”
“A Miss Temple or Tenderdon, I understand.”
“Elizabeth Temple,” said Miss Marple. “Oh dear, I am sorry. I talked to her a good deal. I sat in the next seat to heron the coach. She is, I believe, a retired3 schoolmistress, a very well known one.”
“Of course,” said Clotilde, “I know her quite well. She was Headmistress of Fallowfield, quite a famous school. I’dno idea she was on this tour. She retired as Headmistress, I think a year or two ago, and there is a new, rather youngHeadmistress there now with rather advanced progressive ideas. But Miss Temple is not very old, really, she’s aboutsixty, I should think, and very active, fond of climbing and walking and all the rest of it. This really seems mostunfortunate. I hope she’s not badly hurt. I haven’t heard any details yet.”
“This is quite ready now,” said Miss Marple, snapping down the lid of her suitcase. “I will come down at once andsee Mr. Price.”
Clotilde seized the suitcase.
“Let me. I can carry this perfectly4. Come down with me, and be careful of the stairs.”
Miss Marple came down. Emlyn Price was waiting for her. His hair was looking even wilder than usual and he waswearing a splendid array of fancy boots and a leather jerkin and brilliant emerald green trousers.
“Such an unfortunate business,” he said, seizing Miss Marple’s hand. “I thought I’d come along myself and—well,break it to you about the accident. I expect Miss Bradbury-Scott has told you. It’s Miss Temple. You know. Theschool dame5. I don’t know quite what she was doing or what happened, but some stones, or rather boulders6, rolleddown from above. It’s rather a precipitous slope and it knocked her out and they had to take her off to hospital withconcussion last night. I gather she’s rather bad. Anyway, the tour for today is cancelled and we are stopping on heretonight.”
“Oh dear,” said Miss Marple, “I am sorry. I’m very sorry.”
“I think they’ve decided8 not to go on today because they really have to wait and see what the medical report is, sowe are proposing to spend one more night here at the Golden Boar and to rearrange the tour a little, so that perhaps weshall miss out altogether going to Grangmering which we were going to do tomorrow, and which is not veryinteresting really, or so they say. Mrs. Sandbourne has gone off early to the hospital to see how things are thismorning. She’s going to join us at the Golden Boar for coffee at 11 o’clock. I thought perhaps you’d like to comealong and hear the latest news.”
“I’ll certainly come along with you,” said Miss Marple. “Of course. At once.”
She turned to say good-bye to Clotilde and Mrs. Glynne who had joined her.
“I must thank you so much,” she said. “You have been so kind and it has been so delightful9 to have these twonights here. I feel so rested and everything. Most unfortunate this has occurred.”
“If you would like to spend another night,” said Mrs. Glynne, “I am sure—” She looked at Clotilde.
It occurred to Miss Marple, who had as sharp a sideways glance as anyone could desire, that Clotilde had a slightlydisapproving look. She almost shook her head, though it was such a small movement that it was hardly noticeable. Butshe was, Miss Marple thought, hushing down the suggestion that Mrs. Glynne was making.
“… although of course I expect it would be nicer for you to be with the others and to—”
“Oh yes, I think it would be better,” said Miss Marple. “I shall know then what the plans are and what to do aboutthings, and perhaps I could be of help in some way. One never knows. So thank you again very much. It will not bedifficult, I expect, to get a room at the Golden Boar.” She looked at Emlyn, who said reassuringly10, “That’ll be all right.
Several rooms have been vacated today, They won’t be full at all. Mrs. Sandbourne, I think, has booked for all theparty to stay there tonight, and tomorrow we shall see—well, we shall see how this all goes on.”
Good-byes were said again and thanks. Emlyn Price took Miss Marple’s belongings and started out at a goodstriding pace.
“It’s really only just round the corner, and then the first street to the left,” he said.
“Yes, I passed it yesterday, I think. Poor Miss Temple. I do hope she’s not badly hurt.”
“I think she is rather,” said Emlyn Price. “Of course, you know what doctors are, and hospital people. They say thesame thing always: ‘as well as can be expected.’ There’s no local hospital—they had to take her to Carristown whichis about eight miles away. Anyway, Mrs. Sandbourne will be back with the news by the time we’ve fixed11 you up at thehotel.”
They got there to find the tour assembled in the coffee room and coffee and morning buns and pastries12 were beingserved. Mr. and Mrs. Butler were talking at the moment.
“Oh, it’s just too, too tragic13 this happening,” said Mrs. Butler. “Just too upsetting, isn’t it? Just when we were all sohappy and enjoying everything so much. Poor Miss Temple. And I always thought she was very sure-footed. Butthere, you know, you never can tell, can you, Henry?”
“No, indeed,” said Henry. “No, indeed. I am wondering really—yes, our time’s very short you know—whether wehadn’t better—well, give up this tour at this point here. Not continue with it. It seems to me that there’s bound to be abit of difficulty resuming things until we know definitely. If this was—well—I mean, if this should be so serious that itcould prove fatal, there might—well—I mean there might have to be an inquest or something of that kind.”
“Oh Henry, don’t say dreadful things like that!”
“I’m sure,” said Miss Cooke, “that you are being a little too pessimistic, Mr. Butler. I am sure that things couldn’tbe as serious as that.”
In his foreign voice Mr. Caspar said: “But yes, they are serious. I hear yesterday. When Mrs. Sandbourne talk ontelephone to doctor. It is very, very serious. They say she has concussion7 bad—very bad. A special doctor he iscoming to look at her and see if he can operate or if impossible. Yes—it is all very bad.”
“Oh dear,” said Miss Lumley. “If there’s any doubt, perhaps we ought to go home, Mildred. I must look up thetrains, I think.” She turned to Mrs. Butler. “You see, I have made arrangements about my cats with the neighbours,and if I was delayed a day or two it might make great difficulties for everyone.”
“Well, it’s no good our working ourselves up too much,” said Mrs. Riseley-Porter, in her deep, authoritative14 voice.
“Joanna, put this bun in the wastepaper basket, will you? It is really quite uneatable. Most unpleasant jam. But I don’twant to leave it on my plate. It might make for bad feeling.”
Joanna got rid of the bun. She said:
“Do you think it would be all right if Emlyn and I went out for a walk? I mean, just saw something of the town. It’snot much good our sitting about here, making gloomy remarks, is it? We can’t do anything.”
“I think you’d be very wise to go out,” said Miss Cooke.
“Yes, you go along,” said Miss Barrow before Mrs. Riseley-Porter could speak.
Miss Cooke and Miss Barrow looked at each other and sighed, shaking their heads.
“The grass was very slippery,” said Miss Barrow. “I slid once or twice myself, you know, on that very short turf.”
“And the stones, too,” said Miss Cooke. “Quite a shower of small stones fell down just as I was turning a corner onthe path. Yes, one struck me on the shoulder quite sharply.”
II
Tea, coffee, biscuits and cakes despatched, everyone seemed somewhat dissociated and ill at ease. When a catastrophehas occurred, it is very difficult to know what is the proper way to meet it. Everyone had given their view, hadexpressed surprise and distress15. They were now awaiting news and at the same time had a slight hankering after someform of sightseeing, some interest to carry them through the morning. Lunch would not be served until one o’clockand they really felt that to sit around and repeat their same remarks would be rather a gloomy business.
Miss Cooke and Miss Barrow rose as one woman and explained that it was necessary for them to do a littleshopping. One or two things they needed, and they also wished to go to the post office and buy stamps.
“I want to send off one or two postcards. And I want to enquire16 about postal17 dues on a letter to China,” said MissBarrow.
“And I want to match some wools,” said Miss Cooke. “And also it seemed to me there was rather an interestingbuilding on the other side of the Market Square.”
“I think it would do us all good to get out,” said Miss Barrow.
Colonel and Mrs. Walker also rose, and suggested to Mr. and Mrs. Butler that they too might go out and see whatthere was to see. Mrs. Butler expressed hopes of an antique shop.
“Only I don’t really mean a real antique shop. More what you would call a junk shop. Sometimes you can pick upsome really interesting things there.”
They all trooped out. Emlyn Price had already sidled to the door and disappeared in pursuit of Joanna withouttroubling to use conversation to explain his departure. Mrs. Riseley-Porter, having made a belated attempt to call herniece back, said she thought that at least the lounge would be rather more pleasant to sit in. Miss Lumley agreed—Mr.
Caspar escorted the ladies with the air of a foreign equerry.
Professor Wanstead and Miss Marple remained.
“I think myself,” said Professor Wanstead, addressing Miss Marple, “that it would be pleasant to sit outside thehotel. There is a small terrace giving on the street. If I might persuade you?”
Miss Marple thanked him and rose to her feet. She had hardly exchanged a word so far with Professor Wanstead.
He had several learned looking books with him, one of which he was usually perusing19. Even in the coach he continuedto try and read.
“But perhaps you too want to shop,” he said. “For myself, I would prefer to wait somewhere peacefully for thereturn of Mrs. Sandbourne. It is important, I think, that we should know exactly what we are in for.”
“I quite agree with you, as to that,” said Miss Marple. “I did a certain amount of walking round the town yesterdayand I don’t feel any necessity to do so again today. I’d rather wait here in case there is anything I can do to help. Notthat I suppose there is, but one never knows.”
They moved together through the hotel door and round the corner to where there was a little square of garden witha raised stone walk close to the wall of the hotel and on which there were various forms of basket chairs. There was noone there at the moment so they sat down. Miss Marple looked thoughtfully at her vis-à-vis. At his corrugated20 andwrinkled face, his bushy brows, his luxuriant head of grey hair. He walked with a slight stoop. He had an interestingface, Miss Marple decided. His voice was dry and caustic21, a professional man of some kind, she thought.
“I am not wrong, am I,” said Professor Wanstead. “You are Miss Jane Marple?”
“Yes, I am Jane Marple.”
She was slightly surprised, though for no particular reason. They had not been long enough together for people tobe identified by the other travellers. The last two nights she had not been with the rest of the party. It was quite natural.
“I thought so,” said Professor Wanstead, “from a description I have had of you.”
“A description of me?” Miss Marple was again slightly surprised.
“Yes, I had a description of you—” he paused for a moment. His voice was not exactly lowered, but it lost volume,although she could still hear it quite easily “—from Mr. Rafiel.”
“Oh,” said Miss Marple, startled. “From Mr. Rafiel.”
“You are surprised?”
“Well, yes, I am rather.”
“I don’t know that you should be.”
“I didn’t expect—” began Miss Marple and then stopped.
Professor Wanstead did not speak. He was merely sitting, looking at her intently. In a minute or two, thought MissMarple to herself, he will say to me, “What symptoms exactly, dear lady? Any discomfort22 in swallowing? Any lack ofsleep? Digestion23 in good order?” She was almost sure now that he was a doctor.
“When did he describe me to you? That must have been—”
“You were going to say some time ago—some weeks ago. Before his death—that is so. He told me that you wouldbe on this tour.”
“And he knew that you would be on it too—that you were going on it.”
“You can put it that way,” said Professor Wanstead. “He said,” he continued, “that you would be travelling on thistour, that he had in fact arranged for you to be travelling on this tour.”
“It was very kind of him,” said Miss Marple. “Very kind indeed. I was most surprised when I found he’d bookedme. Such a treat. Which I could not have afforded for myself.”
“Yes,” said Professor Wanstead. “Very well put.” He nodded his head as one who applauds a good performance bya pupil.
“It is sad that it has been interrupted in this fashion,” said Miss Marple. “Very sad indeed. When I am sure we wereall enjoying ourselves so much.”
“Yes,” said Professor Wanstead. “Yes, very sad. And unexpected, do you think, or not unexpected?”
“Now what do you mean by that, Professor Wanstead?”
His lips curled in a slight smile as he met her challenging look.
“Mr. Rafiel,” he said, “spoke to me about you at some length, Miss Marple. He suggested that I should be on thistour with you. I should in due course almost certainly make your acquaintance, since members in a tour inevitably24 domake each other’s acquaintance, though it usually takes a day or two for them to split up, as it were, into possiblegroupings led by similar tastes or interests. And he further suggested to me that I should, shall we say, keep an eye onyou.”
“Keep an eye on me?” said Miss Marple, showing some slight displeasure. “And for what reason?”
“I think reasons of protection. He wanted to be quite sure that nothing should happen to you.”
“Happen to me? What should happen to me, I should like to know?”
“Possibly what happened to Miss Elizabeth Temple,” said Professor Wanstead.
Joanna Crawford came round the corner of the hotel. She was carrying a shopping basket. She passed them,nodding a little, she looked towards them with slight curiosity and went on down the street. Professor Wanstead didnot speak until she had gone out of sight.
“A nice girl,” he said, “at least I think so. Content at present to be a beast of burden to an autocratic aunt, but I haveno doubt will reach the age of rebellion fairly soon.”
“What did you mean by what you said just now?” said Miss Marple, uninterested for the moment in Joanna’spossible rebellion.
“That is a question which, perhaps, owing to what has happened, we shall have to discuss.”
“You mean because of the accident?”
“Yes. If it was an accident.”
“Do you think it wasn’t an accident?”
“Well, I think it’s just possible. That’s all.”
“I don’t of course know anything about it,” said Miss Marple, hesitating.
“No. You were absent from the scene. You were—shall I put it this way—were you just possibly on dutyelsewhere?”
Miss Marple was silent for a moment. She looked at Professor Wanstead once or twice and then she said:
“I don’t think I know exactly what you mean.”
“You are being careful. You are quite right to be careful.”
“I have made it a habit,” said Miss Marple.
“To be careful?”
“I should not put it exactly like that, but I have made a point of being always ready to disbelieve as well as believeanything that is told to me.”
“Yes, and you are quite right too. You don’t know anything about me. You know my name from the passenger listof a very agreeable tour visiting castles and historic houses and splendid gardens. Possibly the gardens are what willinterest you most.”
“Possibly.”
“There are other people here too who are interested in gardens.”
“Or profess18 to be interested in gardens.”
“Ah,” said Professor Wanstead. “You have noticed that.”
He went on. “Well, it was my part, or at any rate to begin with, to observe you, to watch what you were doing, tobe near at hand in case there was any possibility of—well, we might call it roughly—dirty work of any kind. Butthings are slightly altered now. You must make up your mind if I am your enemy or your ally.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Miss Marple. “You put it very clearly but you have not given me any informationabout yourself yet on which to judge. You were a friend, I presume, of the late Mr. Rafiel?”
“No,” said Professor Wanstead, “I was not a friend of Mr. Rafiel. I had met him once or twice. Once on acommittee of a hospital, once at some other public event. I knew about him. He, I gather, also knew about me. If I sayto you, Miss Marple, that I am a man of some eminence25 in my own profession, you may think me a man of boundingconceit.”
“I don’t think so,” said Miss Marple. “I should say, if you say that about yourself, that you are probably speakingthe truth. You are, perhaps, a medical man.”
“Ah. You are perceptive26, Miss Marple. Yes, you are quite perceptive. I have a medical degree, but I have aspeciality too. I am a pathologist and psychologist. I don’t carry credentials27 about with me. You will probably have totake my word up to a certain point, though I can show you letters addressed to me, and possibly official documentsthat might convince you. I undertake mainly specialist work in connection with medical jurisprudence. To put it inperfectly plain everyday language, I am interested in the different types of criminal brain. That has been a study ofmine for many years. I have written books on the subject, some of them violently disputed, some of them which haveattracted adherence28 to my ideas. I do not do very arduous29 work nowadays, I spend my time mainly writing up mysubject, stressing certain points that have appealed to me. From time to time I come across things that strike me asinteresting. Things that I want to study more closely. This I am afraid must seem rather tedious to you.”
“Not at all,” said Miss Marple. “I am hoping perhaps, from what you are saying now, that you will be able toexplain to me certain things which Mr. Rafiel did not see fit to explain to me. He asked me to embark30 upon a certainproject but he gave me no useful information on which to work. He left me to accept it and proceed, as it were,completely in the dark. It seemed to me extremely foolish of him to treat the matter in that way.”
“But you accepted it?”
“I accepted it. I will be quite honest with you. I had a financial incentive31.”
“Did that weigh with you?”
Miss Marple was silent for a moment and then she said slowly,“You may not believe it, but my answer to that is, ‘Not really.’”
“I am not surprised. But your interest was aroused. That is what you are trying to tell me.”
“Yes. My interest was aroused. I had known Mr. Rafiel not well, casually32, but for a certain period of time—someweeks in fact—in the West Indies. I see you know about it, more or less.”
“I know that that was where Mr. Rafiel met you and where—shall I say—you two collaborated33.”
Miss Marple looked at him rather doubtfully. “Oh,” she said, “he said that, did he?” She shook her head.
“Yes, he did,” said Professor Wanstead. “He said you had a remarkable34 flair35 for criminal matters.”
Miss Marple raised her eyebrows36 as she looked at him.
“And I suppose that seems to you most unlikely,” she said. “It surprises you.”
“I seldom allow myself to be surprised at what happens,” said Professor Wanstead. “Mr. Rafiel was a very shrewdand astute37 man, a good judge of people. He thought that you, too, were a good judge of people.”
“I would not set myself up as a good judge of people,” said Miss Marple. “I would only say that certain peopleremind me of certain other people that I have known, and that therefore I can presuppose a certain likeness38 betweenthe way they would act. If you think I know all about what I am supposed to be doing here, you are wrong.”
“By accident more than design,” said Professor Wanstead, “we seem to have settled here in a particularly suitablespot for discussion of certain matters. We do not appear to be overlooked, we cannot easily be overheard, we are notnear a window or a door and there is no balcony or window overhead. In fact, we can talk.”
“I should appreciate that,” said Miss Marple. “I am stressing the fact that I am myself completely in the dark as towhat I am doing or supposed to be doing. I don’t know why Mr. Rafiel wanted it that way.”
“I think I can guess that. He wanted you to approach a certain set of facts, of happenings, unbiased by what anyonewould tell you first.”
“So you are not going to tell me anything either?” Miss Marple sounded irritated. “Really!” she said, “there arelimits.”
“Yes,” said Professor Wanstead. He smiled suddenly. “I agree with you. We must do away with some of theselimits. I am going to tell you certain facts that will make certain things fairly clear to you. You in turn may be able totell me certain facts.”
“I rather doubt it,” said Miss Marple. “One or two rather peculiar39 indications perhaps, but indications are not facts.”
“Therefore—” said Professor Wanstead, and paused.
“For goodness’ sake, tell me something,” said Miss Marple.
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belongings
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gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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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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dame
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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concussion
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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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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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pastries
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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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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caustic
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discomfort
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digestion
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inevitably
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eminence
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perceptive
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credentials
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adherence
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| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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collaborated
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| 合作( collaborate的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾结叛国 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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flair
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| n.天赋，本领，才华；洞察力 | |
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eyebrows
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astute
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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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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