A parlourmaid opened the door of the opposite wing to us. She lookedscared but slightly contemptuous when she saw Taverner.
“You want to see the mistress?”
“Yes, please.”
She showed us into a big drawing room and went out.
Its proportions were the same as the drawing room on the ground floorbelow. There were coloured cretonnes, very gay in colour, and striped silkcurtains. Over the mantelpiece was a portrait that held my gaze riveted—not only because of the master hand that had painted it, but also becauseof the arresting face of the subject.
It was the portrait of a little old man with dark, piercing eyes. He wore ablack velvet2 skull3 cap and his head was sunk down in his shoulders, butthe vitality4 and power of the man radiated forth5 from the canvas. Thetwinkling eyes seemed to hold mine.
“That’s him,” said Chief-Inspector6 Taverner ungrammatically. “Paintedby Augustus John. Got a personality, hasn’t he?”
“Yes,” I said, and felt the monosyllable was inadequate7.
I understood now just what Edith de Haviland had meant when she saidthe house seemed so empty ithout him. This was the Original CrookedLittle Man who had built the Crooked8 Little House—and without him theCrooked Little House had lost its meaning.
“That’s his first wife over there, painted by Sargent,” said Taverner.
I examined the picture on the wall between the windows. It had a cer-tain cruelty like many of Sargent’s portraits. The length of the face was ex-aggerated, I thought—so was the faint suggestion of horsiness—the indis-putable correctness. It was a portrait of a typical English Lady—in Country(not Smart) Society. Handsome, but rather lifeless. A most unlikely wifefor the grinning, powerful little despot over the mantelpiece.
The door opened and Sergeant9 Lamb stepped in.
“I’ve done what I could with the servants, sir,” he said. “Didn’t get any-thing.”
Taverner sighed.
Sergeant Lamb took out his notebook and retreated to the far end of theroom, where he seated himself unobtrusively.
The door opened again and Aristide Leonide’s second wife came into theroom.
She wore black—very expensive black and a good deal of it. It swathedher up to the neck and down to the wrists. She moved easily and indol-ently, and black certainly suited her. Her face was mildly pretty, and shehad rather nice brown hair arranged in somewhat too elaborate style. Herface was well powdered and she had on lipstick10 and rouge11, but she hadclearly been crying. She was wearing a string of very large pearls and shehad a big emerald ring on one hand and an enormous ruby12 on the other.
There was one other thing I noticed about her. She looked frightened.
“Good morning, Mrs. Leonides,” said Taverner easily. “I’m sorry to haveto trouble you again.”
She said in a flat voice:
“I suppose it can’t be helped.”
“You understand, don’t you, Mrs. Leonides, that if you wish your soli-citor to be present, that is perfectly13 in order?”
I wondered if she did understand the significance of those words. Ap-parently not. She merely said rather sulkily:
“I don’t like Mr. Gaitskill. I don’t want him.”
“You could have your own solicitor14, Mrs. Leonides.”
“Must I? I don’t like solicitors15. They confuse me.”
“It’s entirely16 for you to decide,” said Taverner, producing an automaticsmile. “Shall we go on, then?”
Sergeant Lamb licked his pencil. Brenda Leonides sat down on a sofa fa-cing Taverner.
“Have you found out anything?” she asked.
I noticed her fingers nervously17 twisting and untwisting a pleat of thechiffon of her dress.
“We can state definitely now that your husband died as a result of eser-ine poisoning.”
“You mean those eyedrops killed him?”
“It seems quite certain that when you gave Mr. Leonides that last injec-tion, it was eserine that you injected and not insulin.”
“But I didn’t know that. I didn’t have anything to do with it. Really Ididn’t, Inspector.”
“Then somebody must have deliberately18 replaced the insulin by the eye-drops.”
“What a wicked thing to do!”
“Yes, Mrs. Leonides.”
“Do you think—someone did it on purpose? Or by accident? It couldn’thave been a—a joke, could it?”
Taverner said smoothly19:
“We don’t think it was a joke, Mrs. Leonides.”
“It must have been one of the servants.”
Taverner did not answer.
“It must. I don’t see who else could have done it.”
“Are you sure? Think, Mrs. Leonides. Haven’t you any ideas at all?
There’s been no ill-feeling anywhere? No quarrel? No grudge20?”
She still stared at him with large defiant21 eyes.
“I’ve no idea at all,” she said.
“You had been at the cinema that afternoon, you said?”
“Yes—I came in at half past six—it was time for the insulin—I—I—gavehim the injection just the same as usual and then he—he went all queer. Iwas terrified—I rushed over to Roger—I’ve told you all this before. Have Igot to go over it again and again?” Her voice rose hysterically22.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Leonides. Now can I speak to Mr. Brown?”
“To Laurence? Why? He doesn’t know anything about it.”
“I’d like to speak to him all the same.”
She stared at him suspiciously.
“Eustace is doing Latin with him in the schoolroom. Do you want him tocome here?”
“No—we’ll go to him.”
Taverner went quickly out of the room. The sergeant and I followed.
“You’ve put the wind up her, sir,” said Sergeant Lamb.
Taverner grunted23. He led the way up a short flight of steps and along apassage into a big room looking over the garden. There a fair- hairedyoung man of about thirty and a handsome, dark boy of sixteen were sit-ting at a table.
They looked up at our entrance. Sophia’s brother Eustace looked at me,Laurence Brown fixed24 an agonized25 gaze on Chief-Inspector Taverner.
I have never seen a man look so completely paralysed with fright. Hestood up, then sat down again. He said, and his voice was almost a squeak26:
“Oh—er—good morning, Inspector.”
“Good morning.” Taverner was curt1. “Can I have a word with you?”
“Yes, of course. Only too pleased. At least—”
Eustace got up.
“Do you want me to go away, Chief-Inspector?” His voice was pleasantwith a faintly arrogant27 note.
“We—we can continue our studies later,” said the tutor.
Eustace strolled negligently28 towards the door. He walked rather stiffly.
Just as he went through the door he caught my eye, drew a forefingeracross the front of his throat and grinned. Then he shut the door behindhim.
“Well, Mr. Brown,” said Taverner. “The analysis is quite definite. It waseserine that caused Mr. Leonides’ death.”
“I—you mean—Mr. Leonides was really poisoned? I have been hoping—”
“He was poisoned,” said Taverner curtly29. “Someone substituted eserineeyedrops for insulin.”
“I can’t believe it … It’s incredible.”
“The question is, who had a motive30?”
“Nobody. Nobody at all!” The young man’s voice rose excitedly.
“You wouldn’t like to have your solicitor present, would you?” inquiredTaverner.
“I haven’t got a solicitor. I don’t want one. I have nothing to hide—noth-ing….”
“And you quite understand that what you say is about to be takendown?”
“I’m innocent—I assure you, I’m innocent.”
“I have not suggested anything else.” Taverner paused. “Mrs. Leonideswas a good deal younger than her husband, was she not?”
“I—I suppose so—I mean, well, yes.”
“She must have felt lonely sometimes?”
Laurence Brown did not answer. He passed his tongue over his dry lips.
“To have a companion of more or less her own age living here musthave been agreeable to her?”
“I—no, not at all—I mean—I don’t know.”
“It seems to me quite natural that an attachment31 should have sprung upbetween you.”
The young man protested vehemently32.
“It didn’t! It wasn’t! Nothing of the kind! I know what you’re thinking,but it wasn’t so! Mrs. Leonides was very kind to me always and I had thegreatest—the greatest respect for her—but nothing more—nothing more, Ido assure you. It’s monstrous33 to suggest things of that kind! Monstrous! Iwouldn’t kill anybody—or tamper34 with bottles—or anything like that. I’mvery sensitive and highly strung. I—the very idea of killing35 is a nightmareto me—they quite understood that at the tribunal—I have religious objec-tions to killing. I did hospital work instead — stoking boilers36 — terriblyheavy work—I couldn’t go on with it—but they let me take up educationalwork. I have done my best here with Eustace and with Josephine—a veryintelligent child, but difficult. And everybody has been most kind to me—Mr. Leonides and Mrs. Leonides and Miss de Haviland. And now this aw-ful thing happens … And you suspect me—me—of murder!”
Inspector Taverner looked at him with a slow, appraising37 interest.
“I haven’t said so,” he remarked.
“But you think so! I know you think so! They all think so! They look atme. I—I can’t go on talking to you. I’m not well.”
He hurried out of the room. Taverner turned his head slowly to look atme.
“Well, what do you think of him?”
“He’s scared stiff.”
“Yes, I know, but is he a murderer?”
“If you ask me,” said Sergeant Lamb, “he’d never have had the nerve.”
“He’d never have bashed anyone on the head, or shot off a pistol,”
agreed the Chief-Inspector. “But in this particular crime what is there todo? Just monkey about with a couple of bottles … Just help a very old manout of the world in a comparatively painless manner.”
“Practically euthanasia,” said the sergeant.
“And then, perhaps, after a decent interval38, marriage with a womanwho inherits a hundred thousand pounds free of legacy39 duty, who alreadyhas about the same amount settled upon her, and who has in additionpearls and rubies40 and emeralds the size of what’s-its-name eggs!”
“Ah, well—” Taverner sighed. “It’s all theory and conjecture41! I managedto scare him all right, but that doesn’t prove anything. He’s just as likely tobe scared if he’s innocent. And anyway, I rather doubt if he was the oneactually to do it. More likely to have been the woman—only why on earthdidn’t she throw away the insulin bottle, or rinse42 it out?” He turned to thesergeant. “No evidence from the servants about any goings on?”
“The parlourmaid says they’re sweet on each other.”
“What grounds?”
“The way he looks at her when she pours out his coffee.”
“Fat lot of good that would be in a court of law! Definitely no carryingson?”
“Not that anybody’s seen.”
“I bet they would have seen, too, if there had been anything to see. Youknow I’m beginning to believe there really is nothing between them.” Helooked at me. “Go back and talk to her. I’d like your impression of her.”
I went, half-reluctantly, yet I was interested.
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1
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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3
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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9
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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lipstick
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| n.口红，唇膏 | |
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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12
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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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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14
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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15
solicitors
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| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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16
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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17
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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18
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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21
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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23
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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24
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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25
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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26
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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negligently
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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33
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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34
tamper
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| v.干预，玩弄，贿赂，窜改，削弱，损害 | |
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35
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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36
boilers
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| 锅炉，烧水器，水壶( boiler的名词复数 ) | |
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37
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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38
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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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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40
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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41
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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42
rinse
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| v.用清水漂洗，用清水冲洗 | |
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