INGOTS OF GOLD
“ I do not know that the story that I am going to tell you is a fair one,” said Raymond West, “because I can’t give youthe solution of it. Yet the facts were so interesting and so curious that I should like to propound1 it to you as a problem.
And perhaps between us we may arrive at some logical conclusion.
“The date of these happenings was two years ago, when I went down to spend Whitsuntide with a man called JohnNewman, in Cornwall.”
“Cornwall?” said Joyce Lemprière sharply.
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing. Only it’s odd. My story is about a place in Cornwall, too—a little fishing village called Rathole. Don’ttell me yours is the same?”
“No. My village is called Polperran. It is situated3 on the west coast of Cornwall; a very wild and rocky spot. I hadbeen introduced a few weeks previously4 and had found him a most interesting companion. A man of intelligence andindependent means, he was possessed5 of a romantic imagination. As a result of his latest hobby he had taken the leaseof Pol House. He was an authority on Elizabethan times, and he described to me in vivid and graphic6 language the routof the Spanish Armada. So enthusiastic was he that one could almost imagine that he had been an eyewitness7 at thescene. Is there anything in reincarnation? I wonder—I very much wonder.”
“You are so romantic, Raymond dear,” said Miss Marple, looking benignantly at him.
“Romantic is the last thing that I am,” said Raymond West, slightly annoyed. “But this fellow Newman waschock-full of it, and he interested me for that reason as a curious survival of the past. It appears that a certain shipbelonging to the Armada, and known to contain a vast amount of treasure in the form of gold from the Spanish Main,was wrecked9 off the coast of Cornwall on the famous and treacherous10 Serpent Rocks. For some years, so Newman toldme, attempts had been made to salve the ship and recover the treasure. I believe such stories are not uncommon,though the number of mythical12 treasure ships is largely in excess of the genuine ones. A company had been formed,but had gone bankrupt, and Newman had been able to buy the rights of the thing—or whatever you call it—for a meresong. He waxed very enthusiastic about it all. According to him it was merely a question of the latest scientific, up-to-date machinery14. The gold was there, and he had no doubt whatever that it could be recovered.
“It occurred to me as I listened to him how often things happen that way. A rich man such as Newman succeedsalmost without effort, and yet in all probability the actual value in money of his find would mean little to him. I mustsay that his ardour infected me. I saw galleons16 drifting up the coast, flying before the storm, beaten and broken on theblack rocks. The mere13 word galleon15 has a romantic sound. The phrase ‘Spanish Gold’ thrills the schoolboy—and thegrown-up man also. Moreover, I was working at the time upon a novel, some scenes of which were laid in thesixteenth century, and I saw the prospect17 of getting valuable local colour from my host.
“I set off that Friday morning from Paddington in high spirits, and looking forward to my trip. The carriage wasempty except for one man, who sat facing me in the opposite corner. He was a tall, soldierly-looking man, and I couldnot rid myself of the impression that somewhere or other I had seen him before. I cudgelled my brains for some timein vain; but at last I had it. My travelling companion was Inspector18 Badgworth, and I had run across him when I wasdoing a series of articles on the Everson disappearance19 case.
“I recalled myself to his notice, and we were soon chatting pleasantly enough. When I told him I was going toPolperran he remarked that that was a rum coincidence, because he himself was also bound for that place. I did notlike to seem inquisitive20, so was careful not to ask him what took him there. Instead, I spoke21 of my own interest in theplace, and mentioned the wrecked Spanish galleon. To my surprise the Inspector seemed to know all about it. ‘Thatwill be the Juan Fernandez,’ he said. ‘Your friend won’t be the first who has sunk money trying to get money out ofher. It is a romantic notion.’
“‘And probably the whole story is a myth,’ I said. ‘No ship was ever wrecked there at all.’
“‘Oh, the ship was sunk there right enough,’ said the Inspector—‘along with a good company of others. Youwould be surprised if you knew how many wrecks22 there are on that part of the coast. As a matter of fact, that is whattakes me down there now. That is where the Otranto was wrecked six months ago.’
“‘I remember reading about it,’ I said. ‘No lives were lost, I think?’
“No lives were lost,’ said the Inspector; ‘but something else was lost. It is not generally known, but the Otrantowas carrying bullion23.’
“‘Yes?’ I said, much interested.
“Naturally we have had divers24 at work on salvage25 operations, but—the gold has gone, Mr. West.’
“‘Gone!’ I said, staring at him. ‘How can it have gone?’
“‘That is the question,’ said the Inspector. ‘The rocks tore a gaping26 hole in her strongroom. It was easy enough forthe divers to get in that way, but they found the strongroom empty. The question is, was the gold stolen before thewreck or afterwards? Was it ever in the strongroom at all?’
“‘It seems a curious case,’ I said.
“‘It is a very curious case, when you consider what bullion is. Not a diamond necklace that you could put into yourpocket. When you think how cumbersome28 it is and how bulky—well, the whole thing seems absolutely impossible.
There may have been some hocus-pocus before the ship sailed; but if not, it must have been removed within the lastsix months—and I am going down to look into the matter.’
“I found Newman waiting to meet me at the station. He apologized for the absence of his car, which had gone toTruro for some necessary repairs. Instead, he met me with a farm lorry belonging to the property.
“I swung myself up beside him, and we wound carefully in and out of the narrow streets of the fishing village. Wewent up a steep ascent29, with a gradient, I should say, of one in five, ran a little distance along a winding30 lane, andturned in at the granite-pillared gates of Pol House.
“The place was a charming one; it was situated high up the cliffs, with a good view out to sea. Part of it was somethree or four hundred years old, and a modern wing had been added. Behind it farming land of about seven or eightacres ran inland.
“‘Welcome to Pol House,’ said Newman. ‘And to the Sign of the Golden Galleon.’ And he pointed31 to where, overthe front door, hung a perfect reproduction of a Spanish galleon with all sails set.
“My first evening was a most charming and instructive one. My host showed me the old manuscripts relating to theJuan Fernandez. He unrolled charts for me and indicated positions on them with dotted lines, and he produced plansof diving apparatus32, which, I may say, mystified me utterly33 and completely.
“I told him of my meeting with Inspector Badgworth, in which he was much interested.
“‘They are a queer people round this coast,’ he said reflectively. ‘Smuggling and wrecking34 is in their blood. Whena ship goes down on their coast they cannot help regarding it as lawful35 plunder36 meant for their pockets. There is afellow here I should like you to see. He is an interesting survival.’
“Next day dawned bright and clear. I was taken down into Polperran and there introduced to Newman’s diver, aman called Higgins. He was a wooden-faced individual, extremely taciturn, and his contributions to the conversationwere mostly monosyllables. After a discussion between them on highly technical matters, we adjourned37 to the ThreeAnchors. A tankard of beer somewhat loosened the worthy38 fellow’s tongue.
“‘Detective gentleman from London has come down,’ he grunted39. ‘They do say that that ship that went down therelast November was carrying a mortal lot of gold. Well, she wasn’t the first to go down, and she won’t be the last.’
“‘Hear, hear,’ chimed in the landlord of the Three Anchors. ‘That is a true word you say there, Bill Higgins.’
“‘I reckon it is, Mr. Kelvin,’ said Higgins.
“I looked with some curiosity at the landlord. He was a remarkable40-looking man, dark and swarthy, with curiouslybroad shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a curiously41 furtive42 way of avoiding one’s glance. I suspectedthat this was the man of whom Newman had spoken, saying he was an interesting survival.
“‘We don’t want interfering43 foreigners on this coast,’ he said, somewhat truculently44.
“‘Meaning the police?’ asked Newman, smiling.
“‘Meaning the police—and others,’ said Kelvin significantly. ‘And don’t you forget it, mister.’
“‘Do you know, Newman, that sounded to me very like a threat,’ I said as we climbed the hill homewards.
“My friend laughed.
“‘Nonsense; I don’t do the folk down here any harm.’
“I shook my head doubtfully. There was something sinister45 and uncivilized about Kelvin. I felt that his mind mightrun in strange, unrecognized channels.
“I think I date the beginning of my uneasiness from that moment. I had slept well enough that first night, but thenext night my sleep was troubled and broken. Sunday dawned, dark and sullen46, with an overcast47 sky and thethreatenings of thunder in the air. I am always a bad hand at hiding my feelings, and Newman noticed the change inme.
“‘What is the matter with you, West? You are a bundle of nerves this morning.’
“‘I don’t know,’ I confessed, ‘but I have got a horrible feeling of foreboding.’
“‘It’s the weather.’
“‘Yes, perhaps.’
“I said no more. In the afternoon we went out in Newman’s motor boat, but the rain came on with such vigour48 thatwe were glad to return to shore and change into dry clothing.
“And that evening my uneasiness increased. Outside the storm howled and roared. Towards ten o’clock thetempest calmed down. Newman looked out of the window.
“‘It is clearing,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t wonder if it was a perfectly49 fine night in another half hour. If so, I shall go outfor a stroll.’
“I yawned. ‘I am frightfully sleepy,’ I said. ‘I didn’t get much sleep last night. I think that tonight I shall turn inearly.’
“This I did. On the previous night I had slept little. Tonight I slept heavily. Yet my slumbers50 were not restful. I wasstill oppressed with an awful foreboding of evil. I had terrible dreams. I dreamt of dreadful abysses and vast chasms,amongst which I was wandering, knowing that a slip of the foot meant death. I waked to find the hands of my clockpointing to eight o’clock. My head was aching badly, and the terror of my night’s dreams was still upon me.
“So strongly was this so that when I went to the window and drew it up I started back with a fresh feeling of terror,for the first thing I saw, or thought I saw—was a man digging an open grave.
“It took me a minute or two to pull myself together; then I realized that the gravedigger was Newman’s gardener,and the ‘grave’ was destined51 to accommodate three new rose trees which were lying on the turf waiting for themoment they should be securely planted in the earth.
“The gardener looked up and saw me and touched his hat.
“‘Good morning, sir. Nice morning, sir.’
“‘I suppose it is,’ I said doubtfully, still unable to shake off completely the depression of my spirits.
“However, as the gardener had said, it was certainly a nice morning. The sun was shining and the sky a clear paleblue that promised fine weather for the day. I went down to breakfast whistling a tune52. Newman had no maids living inthe house. Two middle-aged53 sisters, who lived in a farmhouse54 nearby, came daily to attend to his simple wants. One ofthem was placing the coffeepot on the table as I entered the room.
“‘Good morning, Elizabeth,’ I said. ‘Mr. Newman not down yet?’
“‘He must have been out very early, sir,’ she replied. ‘He wasn’t in the house when we arrived.’
“Instantly my uneasiness returned. On the two previous mornings Newman had come down to breakfast somewhatlate; and I didn’t fancy that at any time he was an early riser. Moved by those forebodings, I ran up to his bedroom. Itwas empty, and, moreover, his bed had not been slept in. A brief examination of his room showed me two otherthings. If Newman had gone out for a stroll he must have gone out in his evening clothes, for they were missing.
“I was sure now that my premonition of evil was justified55. Newman had gone, as he had said he would do, for anevening stroll. For some reason or other he had not returned. Why? Had he met with an accident? Fallen over thecliffs? A search must be made at once.
“In a few hours I had collected a large band of helpers, and together we hunted in every direction along the cliffsand on the rocks below. But there was no sign of Newman.
“In the end, in despair, I sought out Inspector Badgworth. His face grew very grave.
“‘It looks to me as if there has been foul56 play,’ he said. ‘There are some not over-scrupulous customers in theseparts. Have you seen Kelvin, the landlord of the Three Anchors?’
“I said that I had seen him.
“‘Did you know he did a turn in gaol57 four years ago? Assault and battery.’
“‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ I said.
“‘The general opinion in this place seems to be that your friend is a bit too fond of nosing his way into things thatdo not concern him. I hope he has come to no serious harm.’
“The search was continued with redoubled vigour. It was not until late that afternoon that our efforts wererewarded. We discovered Newman in a deep ditch in a corner of his own property. His hands and feet were securelyfastened with rope, and a handkerchief had been thrust into his mouth and secured there so as to prevent him cryingout.
“He was terribly exhausted59 and in great pain; but after some frictioning of his wrists and ankles, and a longdraught from a whisky flask60, he was able to give his account of what had occurred.
“The weather having cleared, he had gone out for a stroll about eleven o’clock. His way had taken him somedistance along the cliffs to a spot commonly known as Smugglers’ Cove11, owing to the large number of caves to befound there. Here he had noticed some men landing something from a small boat, and had strolled down to see whatwas going on. Whatever the stuff was it seemed to be a great weight, and it was being carried into one of thefarthermost caves.
“With no real suspicion of anything being amiss, nevertheless Newman had wondered. He had drawn61 quite nearthem without being observed. Suddenly there was a cry of alarm, and immediately two powerful seafaring men had setupon him and rendered him unconscious. When next he came to himself he found himself lying on a motor vehicle ofsome kind, which was proceeding62, with many bumps and bangs, as far as he could guess, up the lane which led fromthe coast to the village. To his great surprise, the lorry turned in at the gate of his own house. There, after a whisperedconversation between the men, they at length drew him forth27 and flung him into a ditch at a spot where the depth of itrendered discovery unlikely for some time. Then the lorry drove on, and, he thought, passed out through another gatesome quarter of a mile nearer the village. He could give no description of his assailants except that they were certainlyseafaring men and, by their speech, Cornishmen.
“Inspector Badgworth was very interested.
“‘Depend upon it that is where the stuff has been hidden,’ he cried. ‘Somehow or other it has been salvaged63 fromthe wreck8 and has been stored in some lonely cave somewhere. It is known that we have searched all the caves inSmugglers’ Cove, and that we are now going farther afield, and they have evidently been moving the stuff at night to acave that has been already searched and is not likely to be searched again. Unfortunately they have had at leasteighteen hours to dispose of the stuff. If they got Mr. Newman last night I doubt if we will find any of it there by now.’
“The Inspector hurried off to make a search. He found definite evidence that the bullion had been stored assupposed, but the gold had been once more removed, and there was no clue as to its fresh hiding place.
“One clue there was, however, and the Inspector himself pointed it out to me the following morning.
“‘That lane is very little used by motor vehicles,’ he said, ‘and in one or two places we get the traces of the tyresvery clearly. There is a three-cornered piece out of one tyre, leaving a mark which is quite unmistakable. It showsgoing into the gate; here and there is a faint mark of it going out of the other gate, so there is not much doubt that it isthe right vehicle we are after. Now, why did they take it out through the farther gate? It seems quite clear to me thatthe lorry came from the village. Now, there aren’t many people who own a lorry in the village—not more than two orthree at most. Kelvin, the landlord of the Three Anchors, has one.’
“‘What was Kelvin’s original profession?’ asked Newman.
“‘It is curious that you should ask me that, Mr. Newman. In his young days Kelvin was a professional diver.’
“Newman and I looked at each other. The puzzle seemed to be fitting itself together piece by piece.
“‘You didn’t recognize Kelvin as one of the men on the beach?’ asked the Inspector.
“Newman shook his head.
“‘I am afraid I can’t say anything as to that,’ he said regretfully. ‘I really hadn’t time to see anything.’
“The Inspector very kindly64 allowed me to accompany him to the Three Anchors. The garage was up a side street.
The big doors were closed, but by going up a little alley65 at the side we found a small door that led into it, and the doorwas open. A very brief examination of the tyres sufficed for the Inspector. ‘We have got him, by Jove!’ he exclaimed.
‘Here is the mark as large as life on the rear left wheel. Now, Mr. Kelvin, I don’t think you will be clever enough towriggle out of this.’”
Raymond West came to a halt.
“Well?” said Joyce. “So far I don’t see anything to make a problem about—unless they never found the gold.”
“They never found the gold certainly,” said Raymond. “And they never got Kelvin either. I expect he was tooclever for them, but I don’t quite see how he worked it. He was duly arrested—on the evidence of the tyre mark. Butan extraordinary hitch66 arose. Just opposite the big doors of the garage was a cottage rented for the summer by a ladyartist.”
“Oh, these lady artists!” said Joyce, laughing.
“As you say, ‘Oh, these lady artists!’ This particular one had been ill for some weeks, and, in consequence, hadtwo hospital nurses attending her. The nurse who was on night duty had pulled her armchair up to the window, wherethe blind was up. She declared that the motor lorry could not have left the garage opposite without her seeing it, andshe swore that in actual fact it never left the garage that night.”
“I don’t think that is much of a problem,” said Joyce. “The nurse went to sleep, of course. They always do.”
“That has—er—been known to happen,” said Mr. Petherick, judiciously67; “but it seems to me that we are acceptingfacts without sufficient examination. Before accepting the testimony68 of the hospital nurse, we should inquire veryclosely into her bona fides. The alibi69 coming with such suspicious promptness is inclined to raise doubts in one’smind.”
“There is also the lady artist’s testimony,” said Raymond. “She declared that she was in pain, and awake most ofthe night, and that she would certainly have heard the lorry, it being an unusual noise, and the night being very quietafter the storm.”
“H’m,” said the clergyman, “that is certainly an additional fact. Had Kelvin himself any alibi?”
“He declared that he was at home and in bed from ten o’clock onwards, but he could produce no witnesses insupport of that statement.”
“The nurse went to sleep,” said Joyce, “and so did the patient. Ill people always think they have never slept a winkall night.”
Raymond West looked inquiringly at Dr. Pender.
“Do you know, I feel very sorry for that man Kelvin. It seems to me very much a case of ‘Give a dog a bad name.’
Kelvin had been in prison. Apart from the tyre mark, which certainly seems too remarkable to be coincidence, theredoesn’t seem to be much against him except his unfortunate record.”
“You, Sir Henry?”
Sir Henry shook his head.
“As it happens,” he said, smiling, “I know something about this case. So clearly I mustn’t speak.”
“Well, go on, Aunt Jane; haven’t you got anything to say?”
“In a minute, dear,” said Miss Marple. “I am afraid I have counted wrong. Two purl, three plain, slip one, two purl—yes, that’s right. What did you say, dear?”
“What is your opinion?”
“You wouldn’t like my opinion, dear. Young people never do, I notice. It is better to say nothing.”
“Nonsense, Aunt Jane; out with it.”
“Well, dear Raymond,” said Miss Marple, laying down her knitting and looking across at her nephew. “I do thinkyou should be more careful how you choose your friends. You are so credulous70, dear, so easily gulled71. I suppose it isbeing a writer and having so much imagination. All that story about a Spanish galleon! If you were older and had moreexperience of life you would have been on your guard at once. A man you had known only a few weeks, too!”
Sir Henry suddenly gave vent58 to a great roar of laughter and slapped his knee.
“Got you this time, Raymond,” he said. “Miss Marple, you are wonderful. Your friend Newman, my boy, hasanother name—several other names in fact. At the present moment he is not in Cornwall but in Devonshire—Dartmoor, to be exact—a convict in Princetown prison. We didn’t catch him over the stolen bullion business, but overthe rifling of the strongroom of one of the London banks. Then we looked up his past record and we found a goodportion of the gold stolen buried in the garden at Pol House. It was rather a neat idea. All along that Cornish coastthere are stories of wrecked galleons full of gold. It accounted for the diver and it would account later for the gold. Buta scapegoat72 was needed, and Kelvin was ideal for the purpose. Newman played his little comedy very well, and ourfriend Raymond, with his celebrity73 as a writer, made an unimpeachable74 witness.”
“But the tyre mark?” objected Joyce.
“Oh, I saw that at once, dear, although I know nothing about motors,” said Miss Marple. “People change a wheel,you know—I have often seen them doing it—and, of course, they could take a wheel off Kelvin’s lorry and take it outthrough the small door into the alley and put it on to Mr. Newman’s lorry and take the lorry out of one gate down tothe beach, fill it up with the gold and bring it up through the other gate, and then they must have taken the wheel backand put it back on Mr. Kelvin’s lorry while, I suppose, someone else was tying up Mr. Newman in a ditch. Veryuncomfortable for him and probably longer before he was found than he expected. I suppose the man who calledhimself the gardener attended to that side of the business.”
“Why do you say, ‘called himself the gardener,’ Aunt Jane?” asked Raymond curiously.
“Well, he can’t have been a real gardener, can he?” said Miss Marple. “Gardeners don’t work on Whit2 Monday.
Everybody knows that.”
She smiled and folded up her knitting.
“It was really that little fact that put me on the right scent,” she said. She looked across at Raymond.
“When you are a householder, dear, and have a garden of your own, you will know these little things.”
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propound
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whit
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situated
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previously
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possessed
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graphic
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eyewitness
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wreck
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wrecked
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treacherous
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cove
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mythical
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mere
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machinery
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galleon
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galleons
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prospect
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inspector
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disappearance
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inquisitive
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spoke
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wrecks
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bullion
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divers
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salvage
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gaping
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forth
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cumbersome
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winding
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pointed
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utterly
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wrecking
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lawful
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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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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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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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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truculently
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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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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slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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salvaged
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| （从火灾、海难等中）抢救（某物）( salvage的过去式和过去分词 )； 回收利用（某物） | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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alibi
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| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
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credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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gulled
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| v.欺骗某人( gull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scapegoat
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| n.替罪的羔羊，替人顶罪者；v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
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celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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