There was a short silence after Taverner had gone out.
Then I said:
“Dad, what are murderers like?”
The Old Man looked at me thoughtfully. We understand each other sowell that he knew exactly what was in my mind when I put that question.
And he answered it very seriously.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s important now — very important, for you …Murder’s come close to you. You can’t go on looking at it from the out-side.”
I had always been interested, in an amateurish1 kind of way, in some ofthe more spectacular “cases” with which the CID had dealt, but, as myfather said, I had been interested from the outside—looking in, as it were,through the shop window. But now, as Sophia had seen much morequickly than I did, murder had become a dominant2 factor in my life.
The Old Man went on:
“I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask. I could put you on to acouple of the tame psychiatrists3 who do jobs for us. They’ve got it all cutand dried. Or Taverner could give you all the inside dope. But you want, Itake it, to hear what I, personally, as the result of my experience of crimin-als, think about it?”
“That’s what I want,” I said gratefully.
My father traced a little circle with his finger on the desk top.
“What are murderers like? Some of them”—a faint rather melancholysmile showed on his face—“have been thoroughly4 nice chaps.”
I think I looked a little startled.
“Oh yes, they have,” he said. “Nice ordinary fellows like you and me—orlike that chap who went out just now—Roger Leonides. Murder, you see, isan amateur crime. I’m speaking of course of the kind of murder you havein mind—not gangster5 stuff. One feels, very often, as though these nice or-dinary chaps had been overtaken, as it were, by murder, almost accident-ally. They’ve been in a tight place, or they’ve wanted something verybadly, money or a woman—and they’ve killed to get it. The brake that op-erates with most of us doesn’t operate with them. A child, you know,translates desire into action without compunction. A child is angry with itskitten, says ‘I’ll kill you,’ and hits it on the head with a hammer—and thenbreaks its heart because the kitten doesn’t come alive again! Lots of kidstry to take a baby out of a pram6 and ‘drown it,’ because it usurps7 attention— or interferes8 with their pleasures. They get — very early — to a stagewhen they know that that is ‘wrong’— that is, that it will be punished.
Later, they get to feel that it is wrong. But some people, I suspect, remainmorally immature9. They continue to be aware that murder is wrong, butthey do not feel it. I don’t think, in my experience, that any murderer hasreally felt remorse10 … And that, perhaps, is the mark of Cain. Murderersare set apart, they are ‘different’—murder is wrong—but not for them—forthem it is necessary—the victim has ‘asked for it,’ it was ‘the only way.’”
“Do you think,” I asked, “that if someone hated old Leonides, had hatedhim, say, for a very long time, that that would be a reason?”
“Pure hate? Very unlikely, I should say.” My father looked at me curi-ously. “When you say hate, I presume you mean dislike carried to excess.
A jealous hate is different—that rises out of affection and frustration11. Con-stance Kent, everybody said, was very fond of the baby brother she killed.
But she wanted, one supposes, the attention and the love that was be-stowed on him. I think people more often kill those they love than thosethey hate. Possibly because only the people you love can really make lifeunendurable to you.
“But all this doesn’t help you much, does it?” he went on. “What youwant, if I read you correctly, is some token, some universal sign that willhelp you to pick out a murderer from a household of apparently12 normaland pleasant people?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Is there a common denominator? I wonder. You know,” he paused inthought, “if there is, I should be inclined to say it is vanity.”
“Vanity?”
“Yes, I’ve never met a murderer who wasn’t vain … It’s their vanity thatleads to their undoing13, nine times out of ten. They may be frightened ofbeing caught, but they can’t help strutting14 and boasting and usuallythey’re sure they’ve been far too clever to be caught.” He added: “Andhere’s another thing, a murderer wants to talk.”
“To talk?”
“Yes; you see, having committed a murder puts you in a position of greatloneliness. You’d like to tell somebody all about it—and you never can.
And that makes you want to all the more. And so—if you can’t talk abouthow you did it, you can at least talk about the murder itself—discuss it, ad-vance theories—go over it.
“If I were you, Charles, I should look out for that. Go down there again,mix with them all, and get them to talk. Of course it won’t be plain sailing.
Guilty or innocent, they’ll be glad of the chance to talk to a stranger, be-cause they can say things to you that they couldn’t say to each other. Butit’s possible, I think, that you might spot a difference. A person who hassomething to hide can’t really afford to talk at all. The bloke knew that inIntelligence during the war. If you were captured, your name, rank, andnumber, but nothing more. People who attempt to give false informationnearly always slip up. Get that household talking, Charles, and watch outfor a slip or for some flash of self-revelation.”
I told him then what Sophia had said about the ruthlessness in the fam-ily—the different kinds of ruthlessness. He was interested.
“Yes,” he said. “Your young woman has got something there. Most famil-ies have got a defect, a chink in their armour15. Most people can deal withone weakness—but they mightn’t be able to deal with two weaknesses of adifferent kind. Interesting thing, heredity. Take the de Haviland ruthless-ness, and what we might call the Leonides unscrupulousness — the deHavilands are all right because they’re not unscrupulous, and the Le-onides are all right because, though unscrupulous, they are kindly—butget a descendant who inherited both of those traits—see what I mean?”
I had not thought of it quite in those terms. My father said:
“But I shouldn’t worry your head about heredity. It’s much too trickyand complicated a subject. No, my boy, go down there and let them talk toyou. Your Sophia is quite right about one thing. Nothing but the truth isgoing to be any good to her or to you. You’ve got to know.”
He added as I went out of the room:
“And be careful of the child.”
“Josephine? You mean don’t let on to her what I’m up to.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant—look after her. We don’t want anythingto happen to her.”
I stared at him.
“Come, come, Charles. There’s a cold-blooded killer16 somewhere in thathousehold. The child Josephine appears to know most of what goes on.”
“She certainly knew all about Roger—even if she did leap to the conclu-sion that he was a swindler. Her account of what she overheard seems tohave been quite accurate.”
“Yes, yes. Child’s evidence is always the best evidence there is. I’d relyon it every time. No good in court, of course. Children can’t stand beingasked direct questions. They mumble17 or else look idiotic18 and say theydon’t know. They’re at their best when they’re showing off. That’s whatthe child was doing to you. Showing off. You’ll get more out of her in thesame way. Don’t go asking her questions. Pretend you think she doesn’tknow anything. That’ll fetch her.”
He added:
“But take care of her. She may know a little too much for somebody’ssafety.”
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收听单词发音
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1
amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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psychiatrists
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| n.精神病专家，精神病医生( psychiatrist的名词复数 ) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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gangster
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| n.匪徒，歹徒，暴徒 | |
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pram
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| n.婴儿车，童车 | |
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usurps
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的第三人称单数 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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interferes
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| vi. 妨碍，冲突，干涉 | |
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immature
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| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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14
strutting
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| 加固，支撑物 | |
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15
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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mumble
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| n./v.喃喃而语，咕哝 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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