STRANGE JEST
“ A nd this,” said Jane Helier, completing her introductions, “is Miss Marple!”
Being an actress, she was able to make her point. It was clearly the climax1, the triumphant2 finale! Her tone wasequally compounded of reverent3 awe4 and triumph.
The odd part of it was that the object thus proudly proclaimed was merely a gentle, fussy-looking, elderly spinster.
In the eyes of the two young people who had just, by Jane’s good offices, made her acquaintance, there showedincredulity and a tinge6 of dismay. They were nice-looking people; the girl, Charmian Stroud, slim and dark—the man,Edward Rossiter, a fair-haired, amiable7 young giant.
Charmian said a little breathlessly. “Oh! We’re awfully8 pleased to meet you.” But there was doubt in her eyes. Sheflung a quick, questioning glance at Jane Helier.
“Darling,” said Jane, answering the glance, “she’s absolutely marvellous. Leave it all to her. I told you I’d get herhere and I have.” She added to Miss Marple, “You’ll fix it for them, I know. It will be easy for you.”
Miss Marple turned her placid9, china-blue eyes towards Mr. Rossiter. “Won’t you tell me,” she said, “what all thisis about?”
“Jane’s a friend of ours,” Charmian broke in impatiently. “Edward and I are in rather a fix. Jane said if we wouldcome to her party, she’d introduce us to someone who was—who would—who could—”
Edward came to the rescue. “Jane tells us you’re the last word in sleuths, Miss Marple!”
The old lady’s eyes twinkled, but she protested modestly. “Oh, no, no! Nothing of the kind. It’s just that living in avillage as I do, one gets to know so much about human nature. But really you have made me quite curious. Do tell meyour problem.”
“I’m afraid it’s terribly hackneyed—just buried treasure,” said Edward.
“Indeed? But that sounds most exciting!”
“I know. Like Treasure Island. But our problem lacks the usual romantic touches. No point on a chart indicated bya skull10 and crossbones, no directions like ‘four paces to the left, west by north.’ It’s horribly prosaic—just where weought to dig.”
“Have you tried at all?”
“I should say we’d dug about two solid square acres! The whole place is ready to be turned into a market garden.
We’re just discussing whether to grow vegetable marrows11 or potatoes.”
Charmian said rather abruptly13, “May we really tell you all about it?”
“But, of course, my dear.”
“Then let’s find a peaceful spot. Come on, Edward.” She led the way out of the overcrowded and smoke-ladenroom, and they went up the stairs, to a small sitting room on the second floor.
When they were seated, Charmian began abruptly. “Well, here goes! The story starts with Uncle Mathew, uncle—or rather, great-great-uncle—to both of us. He was incredibly ancient. Edward and I were his only relations. He wasfond of us and always declared that when he died he would leave his money between us. Well, he died last March andleft everything he had to be divided equally between Edward and myself. What I’ve just said sounds rather callous—Idon’t mean that it was right that he died—actually we were very fond of him. But he’d been ill for some time.
“The point is that the ‘everything’ he left turned out to be practically nothing at all. And that, frankly14, was a bit ofa blow to us both, wasn’t it, Edward?”
The amiable Edward agreed. “You see,” he said, “we’d counted on it a bit. I mean, when you know a good bit ofmoney is coming to you, you don’t—well—buckle down and try to make it yourself. I’m in the army—not gotanything to speak of outside my pay—and Charmian herself hasn’t got a bean. She works as a stage manager in arepertory theatre—quite interesting, and she enjoys it—but no money in it. We’d counted on getting married, butweren’t worried about the money side of it because we both knew we’d be jolly well-off someday.”
“And now, you see, we’re not!” said Charmian. “What’s more, Ansteys—that’s the family place, and Edward andI both love it—will probably have to be sold. And Edward and I feel we just can’t bear that! But if we don’t find UncleMathew’s money, we shall have to sell.”
Edward said, “You know, Charmian, we still haven’t come to the vital point.”
“Well, you talk, then.”
Edward turned to Miss Marple. “It’s like this, you see. As Uncle Mathew grew older, he got more and moresuspicious. He didn’t trust anybody.”
“Very wise of him,” said Miss Marple. “The depravity of human nature is unbelievable.”
“Well, you may be right. Anyway, Uncle Mathew thought so. He had a friend who lost his money in a bank, andanother friend who was ruined by an absconding15 solicitor16, and he lost some money himself in a fraudulent company.
He got so that he used to hold forth17 at great length that the only safe and sane18 thing to do was to convert your moneyinto solid bullion19 and bury it.”
“Ah,” said Miss Marple. “I begin to see.”
“Yes. Friends argued with him, pointed20 out that he’d get no interest that way, but he held that that didn’t reallymatter. The bulk of your money, he said, should be ‘kept in a box under the bed or buried in the garden.’ Those werehis words.”
Charmian went on. “And when he died, he left hardly anything at all in securities, though he was very rich. So wethink that that’s what he must have done.”
Edward explained. “We found that he had sold securities and drawn21 out large sums of money from time to time,and nobody knows what he did with them. But it seems probable that he lived up to his principles, and that he did buygold and bury it.”
“He didn’t say anything before he died? Leave any paper? No letter?”
“That’s the maddening part of it. He didn’t. He’d been unconscious for somedays, but he rallied before he died. Helooked at us both and chuckled—a faint, weak little chuckle22. He said, ‘You’ll be all right, my pretty pair of doves.’
And then he tapped his eye—his right eye—and winked23 at us. And then—he died. Poor old Uncle Mathew.”
“He tapped his eye,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully.
Edward said eagerly. “Does that convey anything to you? It made me think of an Arsene Lupin story where therewas something hidden in a man’s glass eye. But Uncle Mathew didn’t have a glass eye.”
Miss Marple shook her head. “No—I can’t think of anything at the moment.”
Charmian said disappointedly, “Jane told us you’d say at once where to dig!”
Miss Marple smiled. “I’m not quite a conjurer, you know. I didn’t know your uncle, or what sort of man he was,and I don’t know the house or the grounds.”
Charmian said, “If you did know them?”
“Well, it must be quite simple, really, mustn’t it?” said Miss Marple.
“Simple!” said Charmian. “You come down to Ansteys and see if it’s simple!”
It is possible that she did not mean the invitation to be taken seriously, but Miss Marple said briskly, “Well, really,my dear, that’s very kind of you. I’ve always wanted to have the chance of looking for buried treasure. And,” sheadded, looking at them with a beaming, late-Victorian smile, “with a love interest, too!”
“You see!” said Charmian, gesturing dramatically.
They had just completed a grand tour of Ansteys. They had been round the kitchen garden—heavily trenched.
They had been through the little woods, where every important tree had been dug round, and had gazed sadly on thepitted surface of the once smooth lawn. They had been up to the attic24, where old trunks and chests had been rifled oftheir contents. They had been down to the cellars, where flagstones had been heaved unwillingly25 from their sockets26.
They had measured and tapped walls, and Miss Marple had been shown every antique piece of furniture that containedor could be suspected of containing a secret drawer.
On a table in the morning room there was a heap of papers—all the papers that the late Mathew Stroud had left.
Not one had been destroyed, and Charmian and Edward were wont27 to return to them again and again, earnestlyperusing bills, invitations, and business correspondence in the hope of spotting a hitherto unnoticed clue.
“Can you think of anywhere we haven’t looked?” demanded Charmian hopefully.
Miss Marple shook her head. “You seem to have been very thorough, my dear. Perhaps, if I may say so, just a littletoo thorough. I always think, you know, that one should have a plan. It’s like my friend, Mrs. Eldritch, she had such anice little maid, polished linoleum28 beautifully, but she was so thorough that she polished the bathroom floor too much,and as Mrs. Eldritch was stepping out of the bath the cork29 mat slipped from under her, and she had a very nasty falland actually broke her leg! Most awkward, because the bathroom door was locked, of course, and the gardener had toget a ladder and come in through the window—terribly distressing30 to Mrs. Eldritch, who had always been a verymodest woman.”
Edward moved restlessly.
Miss Marple said quickly, “Please forgive me. So apt, I know, to fly off at a tangent. But one thing does remindone of another. And sometimes that is helpful. All I was trying to say was that perhaps if we tried to sharpen our witsand think of a likely place—”
Edward said crossly, “You think of one, Miss Marple. Charmian’s brains and mine are now only beautiful blanks!”
“Dear, dear. Of course—most tiring for you. If you don’t mind I’ll just look through all this.” She indicated thepapers on the table. “That is, if there’s nothing private—I don’t want to appear to pry31.”
“Oh, that’s all right. But I’m afraid you won’t find anything.”
She sat down by the table and methodically worked through the sheaf of documents. As she replaced each one, shesorted them automatically into tidy little heaps. When she had finished she sat staring in front of her for some minutes.
Edward asked, not without a touch of malice32, “Well, Miss Marple?”
Miss Marple came to herself with a little start. “I beg your pardon. Most helpful.”
“You’ve found something relevant?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that, but I do believe I know what sort of man your Uncle Mathew was. Rather like my ownUncle Henry, I think. Fond of rather obvious jokes. A bachelor, evidently — I wonder why — perhaps an earlydisappointment? Methodical up to a point, but not very fond of being tied up—so few bachelors are!”
Behind Miss Marple’s back, Charmian made a sign to Edward. It said, She’s gaga.
Miss Marple was continuing happily to talk of her deceased Uncle Henry. “Very fond of puns, he was. And tosome people, puns are most annoying. A mere5 play upon words may be very irritating. He was a suspicious man, too.
Always was convinced the servants were robbing him. And sometimes, of course, they were, but not always. It grewupon him, poor man. Towards the end he suspected them of tampering34 with his food, and finally refused to eatanything but boiled eggs! Said nobody could tamper33 with the inside of a boiled egg. Dear Uncle Henry, he used to besuch a merry soul at one time—very fond of his coffee after dinner. He always used to say, ‘This coffee is veryMoorish,’ meaning, you know, that he’d like a little more.”
Edward felt that if he heard anymore about Uncle Henry he’d go mad.
“Fond of young people, too,” went on Miss Marple, “but inclined to tease them a little, if you know what I mean.
Used to put bags of sweets where a child just couldn’t reach them.”
Casting politeness aside, Charmian said, “I think he sounds horrible!”
“Oh, no, dear, just an old bachelor, you know, and not used to children. And he wasn’t at all stupid, really. He usedto keep a good deal of money in the house, and he had a safe put in. Made a great fuss about it—and how very secureit was. As a result of his talking so much, burglars broke in one night and actually cut a hole in the safe with achemical device.”
“Served him right,” said Edward.
“Oh, but there was nothing in the safe,” said Miss Marple. “You see, he really kept the money somewhere else—behind some volumes of sermons in the library, as a matter of fact. He said people never took a book of that kind outof the shelf!”
Edward interrupted excitedly. “I say, that’s an idea. What about the library?”
But Charmian shook a scornful head. “Do you think I hadn’t thought of that? I went through all the books Tuesdayof last week, when you went off to Portsmouth. Took them all out, shook them. Nothing there.”
Edward sighed. Then, rousing himself, he endeavoured to rid himself tactfully of their disappointing guest. “It’sbeen awfully good of you to come down as you have and try to help us. Sorry it’s been all a washout. Feel wetrespassed a lot on your time. However—I’ll get the car out, and you’ll be able to catch the three thirty—”
“Oh,” said Miss Marple, “but we’ve got to find the money, haven’t we? You mustn’t give up, Mr. Rossiter. ‘If atfirst you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.’”
“You mean you’re going to—go on trying?”
“Strictly speaking,” said Miss Marple, “I haven’t begun yet. ‘First catch your hare—’ as Mrs. Beaton says in hercookery book—a wonderful book but terribly expensive; most of the recipes begin, ‘Take a quart of cream and adozen eggs.’ Let me see, where was I? Oh, yes. Well, we have, so to speak, caught our hare—the hare being, ofcourse, your Uncle Mathew, and we’ve only got to decide now where he would have hidden the money. It ought to bequite simple.”
“Simple?” demanded Charmian.
“Oh, yes, dear. I’m sure he would have done the obvious thing. A secret drawer—that’s my solution.”
Edward said dryly, “You couldn’t put bars of gold in a secret drawer.”
“No, no, of course not. But there’s no reason to believe the money is in gold.”
“He always used to say—”
“So did my Uncle Henry about his safe! So I should strongly suspect that that was just a blind. Diamonds—nowthey could be in a secret drawer quite easily.”
“But we’ve looked in all the secret drawers. We had a cabinetmaker over to examine the furniture.”
“Did you, dear? That was clever of you. I should suggest your uncle’s own desk would be the most likely. Was itthe tall escritoire against the wall there?”
“Yes. And I’ll show you.” Charmian went over to it. She took down the flap. Inside were pigeonholes35 and littledrawers. She opened a small door in the centre and touched a spring inside the left-hand drawer. The bottom of thecentre recess36 clicked and slid forward. Charmian drew it out, revealing a shallow well beneath. It was empty.
“Now isn’t that a coincidence?” exclaimed Miss Marple. “Uncle Henry had a desk just like this, only his was burrwalnut and this is mahogany.”
“At any rate,” said Charmian, “there’s nothing there, as you can see.”
“I expect,” said Miss Marple, “your cabinetmaker was a young man. He didn’t know everything. People were veryartful when they made hiding places in those days. There’s such a thing as a secret inside a secret.”
She extracted a hairpin37 from her neat bun of grey hair. Straightening it out, she stuck the point into what appearedto be a tiny wormhole in one side of the secret recess. With a little difficulty she pulled out a small drawer. In it was abundle of faded letters and a folded paper.
Edward and Charmian pounced38 on the find together. With trembling fingers Edward unfolded the paper. Hedropped it with an exclamation39 of disgust.
“A damned cookery recipe. Baked ham!”
Charmian was untying40 a ribbon that held the letters together. She drew one out and glanced at it. “Love letters!”
Miss Marple reacted with Victorian gusto. “How interesting! Perhaps the reason your uncle never married.”
Charmian read aloud:
“‘My ever dear Mathew, I must confess that the time seems long indeed since I received your last letter. I try tooccupy myself with the various tasks allotted41 to me, and often say to myself that I am indeed fortunate to see somuch of the globe, though little did I think when I went to America that I should voyage off to these farislands!’ “
Charmain broke off. “Where is it from? Oh! Hawaii!” She went on:
“‘Alas42, these natives are still far from seeing the light. They are in an unclothed and savage43 state and spendmost of their time swimming and dancing, adorning44 themselves with garlands of flowers. Mr. Gray has madesome converts but it is uphill work, and he and Mrs. Gray get sadly discouraged. I try to do all I can to cheerand encourage him, but I, too, am often sad for a reason you can guess, dear Mathew. Alas, absence is asevere trial for a loving heart. Your renewed vows45 and protestations of affection cheered me greatly. Now andalways you have my faithful and devoted46 heart, dear Mathew, and I remain—Your true love, Betty Martin.
“‘PS—I address my letter under cover to our mutual47 friend, Matilda Graves, as usual. I hope heaven willpardon this little subterfuge48.’”
Edward whistled. “A female missionary49! So that was Uncle Mathew’s romance. I wonder why they never married?”
“She seems to have gone all over the world,” said Charmian, looking through the letters. “Mauritius—all sorts ofplaces. Probably died of yellow fever or something.”
A gentle chuckle made them start. Miss Marple was apparently50 much amused. “Well, well,” she said. “Fancy that,now!”
She was reading the recipe for baked ham. Seeing their enquiring51 glances, she read out: “‘Baked ham withspinach. Take a nice piece of gammon, stuff with cloves53, and cover with brown sugar. Bake in a slow oven. Serve witha border of pureed spinach52.’ What do you think of that, now?”
“I think it sounds filthy,” said Edward.
“No, no, actually it would be very good—but what do you think of the whole thing?”
A sudden ray of light illuminated54 Edward’s face. “Do you think it’s a code—cryptogram of some kind?” He seizedit. “Look here, Charmian, it might be, you know! No reason to put a cooking-recipe in a secret drawer otherwise.”
“Exactly,” said Miss Marple. “Very, very significant.”
Charmian said, “I know what it might be—invisible ink! Let’s heat it. Turn on the electric fire.”
Edward did so, but no signs of writing appeared under the treatment.
Miss Marple coughed. “I really think, you know, that you’re making it rather too difficult. The recipe is only anindication, so to speak. It is, I think, the letters that are significant.”
“The letters?”
“Especially,” said Miss Marple, “the signature.”
But Edward hardly heard her. He called excitedly, “Charmian! Come here! She’s right. See—the envelopes areold, right enough, but the letters themselves were written much later.”
“Exactly,” said Miss Marple.
“They’re only fake old. I bet anything old Uncle Mat faked them himself—”
“Precisely,” said Miss Marple.
“The whole thing’s a sell. There never was a female missionary. It must be a code.”
“My dear, dear children—there’s really no need to make it all so difficult. Your uncle was really a very simpleman. He had to have his little joke, that was all.”
For the first time they gave her their full attention.
“Just exactly what do you mean, Miss Marple?” asked Charmian.
“I mean, dear, that you’re actually holding the money in your hand this minute.”
Charmian stared down.
“The signature, dear. That gives the whole thing away. The recipe is just an indication. Shorn of all the cloves andbrown sugar and the rest of it, what is it actually? Why, gammon and spinach to be sure! Gammon and spinach!
Meaning—nonsense! So it’s clear that it’s the letters that are important. And then, if you take into consideration whatyour uncle did just before he died. He tapped his eye, you said. Well, there you are—that gives you the clue, you see.”
Charmian said, “Are we mad, or are you?”
“Surely, my dear, you must have heard the expression meaning that something is not a true picture, or has it quitedied out nowadays? ‘All my eye and Betty Martin.’”
Edward gasped55, his eyes falling to the letter in his hand. “Betty Martin—”
“Of course, Mr. Rossiter. As you have just said, there isn’t—there wasn’t any such person. The letters were writtenby your uncle, and I dare say he got a lot of fun out of writing them! As you say, the writing on the envelopes is mucholder—in fact, the envelope couldn’t belong to the letters, anyway, because the postmark of one you are holding iseighteen fifty-one.”
She paused. She made it very emphatic56. “Eighteen fifty-one. And that explains everything, doesn’t it?”
“Not to me,” said Edward.
“Well, of course,” said Miss Marple, “I dare say it wouldn’t to me if it weren’t for my great-nephew Lionel. Sucha dear little boy and a passionate57 stamp collector. Knows all about stamps. It was he who told me about the rare andexpensive stamps and that a wonderful new find had come up for auction58. And I actually remember his mentioningone stamp—an eighteen fifty-one blue two-cent. It realized something like twenty-five thousand dollars, I believe.
Fancy! I should imagine that the other stamps are something also rare and expensive. No doubt your uncle boughtthrough dealers59 and was careful to ‘cover his tracks,’ as they say in detective stories.”
Edward groaned60. He sat down and buried his face in his hands.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Charmian.
“Nothing. It’s only the awful thought that, but for Miss Marple, we might have burned these letters in a decent,gentlemanly way!”
“Ah,” said Miss Marple, “that’s just what these old gentlemen who are fond of their jokes never realize. UncleHenry, I remember, sent a favourite niece a five-pound note for a Christmas present. He put it in a Christmas card,gummed the card together, and wrote on it, ‘Love and best wishes. Afraid this is all I can manage this year.’”
“She, poor girl, was annoyed at what she thought was his meanness and threw it all straight into the fire; then, ofcourse, he had to give her another.”
Edward’s feelings towards Uncle Henry had suffered an abrupt12 and complete change.
“Miss Marple,” he said, “I’m going to get a bottle of champagne61. We’ll all drink the health of your Uncle Henry.”
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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triumphant
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reverent
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awe
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mere
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tinge
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amiable
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awfully
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placid
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skull
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marrows
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abrupt
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abruptly
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frankly
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absconding
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solicitor
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forth
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sane
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bullion
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pointed
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drawn
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chuckle
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winked
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attic
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unwillingly
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sockets
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linoleum
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cork
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distressing
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pry
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malice
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tamper
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tampering
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pigeonholes
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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hairpin
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| n.簪,束发夹，夹发针 | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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untying
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| untie的现在分词 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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adorning
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| 修饰，装饰物 | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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spinach
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| n.菠菜 | |
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cloves
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| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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