Strangely enough, she received confirmation1 of this theory no later thanthe following day, and it came from Roger.
They had been playing a single at tennis against each other and were sit-ting afterwards sipping2 iced drinks.
They had been talking about various indifferent subjects and Frankiehad become more and more sensible of the charm of someone who had,like Roger Bassington-ffrench, travelled about all over the world. The fam-ily ne’er-do-weel, she could not help thinking, contrasted very favourablywith his heavy, serious-minded brother.
A pause had fallen while these thoughts were passing through Frankie’smind. It was broken by Roger—speaking this time in an entirely3 differenttone of voice.
“Lady Frances, I’m going to do a rather peculiar4 thing. I’ve known youless than twenty-four hours, but I feel instinctively5 that you’re the one per-son I can ask advice from.”
“Advice?” said Frankie, surprised.
“Yes. I can’t make up my mind between two different courses of action.”
He paused. He was leaning forward, swinging a racquet between hisknees, a light frown on his forehead. He looked worried and upset.
“It’s about my brother, Lady Frances.”
“Yes?”
“He is taking drugs. I am sure of it.”
“What makes you think so?” asked Frankie.
“Everything. His appearance. His extraordinary changes of mood. Andhave you noticed his eyes? The pupils are like pinpoints6.”
“I had noticed that,” admitted Frankie. “What do you think it is?”
“Morphia or some form of opium7.”
“Has it been going on for long?”
“I date the beginning of it from about six months ago. I remember thathe complained of sleeplessness8 a good deal. How he first came to take thestuff, I don’t know, but I think it must have begun soon after then.”
“How does he get hold of it?” inquired Frankie practically.
“I think it comes to him by post. Have you noticed that he is particularlynervous and irritable9 some days at tea time?”
“Yes, I have.”
“I suspect that that is when he has finished up his supply and is waitingfor more. Then, after the six o’clock post has come, he goes into his studyand emerges for dinner in quite a different mood.”
Frankie nodded. She remembered that unnatural10 brilliance11 of conversa-tion sometimes at dinner.
“But where does the supply come from?” she asked.
“Ah, that I don’t know. No reputable doctor would give it to him. Thereare, I suppose, various sources where one could get it in London by payinga big price.”
Frankie nodded thoughtfully.
She was remembering having said to Bobby something about a gang ofdrug smugglers and his replying that one could not mix up too manycrimes. It was queer that so soon in their investigations12 they should havecome upon the traces of such a thing.
It was queerer that it should be the chief suspect who should draw herattention to the fact. It made her more inclined than ever to acquit13 RogerBassington-ffrench of the charge of murder.
And yet there was the inexplicable14 matter of the changed photograph.
The evidence against him, she reminded herself, was still exactly what ithad been. On the other side was only the personality of the man himself.
And everyone always said that murderers were charming people!
She shook off these reflections and turned to her companion.
“Why exactly are you telling me this?” she asked frankly15.
“Because I don’t know what to do about Sylvia,” he said simply.
“You think she doesn’t know?”
“Of course she doesn’t know. Ought I to tell her?”
“It’s very difficult—”
“It is difficult. That’s why I thought you might be able to help me. Sylviahas taken a great fancy to you. She doesn’t care much for any of thepeople round about, but she liked you at once, she tells me. What ought Ito do, Lady Frances? By telling her I shall add a great burden to her life.”
“If she knew she might have some influence,” suggested Frankie.
“I doubt it. When it’s a case of drug-taking, nobody, even the nearest anddearest, has any influence.”
“That’s rather a hopeless point of view, isn’t it?”
“It’s a fact. There are ways, of course. If Henry would only consent to goin for a cure—there’s a place actually near here. Run by a Dr. Nicholson.”
“But he’d never consent, would he?”
“He might. You can catch a morphia taker in a mood of extravagant16 re-morse sometimes when they’d do anything to cure themselves. I’m in-clined to think that Henry might be got to that frame of mind more easilyif he thought Sylvia didn’t know—if her knowing was held over him as akind of threat. If the cure was successful (they’d call it ‘nerves,’ of course)she never need know.”
“Would he have to go away for the cure?”
“The place I mean is about three miles from here, the other side of thevillage. It’s run by a Canadian—Dr. Nicholson. A very clever man, I be-lieve. And, fortunately, Henry likes him. Hush—here comes Sylvia.”
Mrs. Bassington-ffrench joined them, observing:
“Have you been very energetic?”
“Three sets,” said Frankie. “And I was beaten every time.”
“You play a very good game,” said Roger.
“I’m terribly lazy about tennis,” said Sylvia. “We must ask the Nich-olsons over one day. She’s very fond of a game. Why—what is it?” She hadcaught the glance the other two had exchanged.
“Nothing—only I happened to be talking about the Nicholsons to LadyFrances.”
“You’d better call her Frankie like I do,” said Sylvia. “Isn’t it odd howwhenever one talks of any person or thing, somebody else does the sameimmediately afterwards?”
“They are Canadians, aren’t they?” inquired Frankie.
“He is, certainly. I rather fancy she is English, but I’m not sure. She’s avery pretty little thing—quite charming with the most lovely big wistfuleyes. Somehow or other, I fancy she isn’t terribly happy. It must be a de-pressing life.”
“He runs a kind of sanatorium, doesn’t he?”
“Yes—nerve cases and people who take drugs. He’s very successful, I be-lieve. He’s rather an impressive man.”
“You like him?”
“No,” said Sylvia abruptly17, “I don’t.” And rather vehemently18, after a mo-ment or two, she added: “Not at all.”
Later on, she pointed19 out to Frankie a photograph of a charming large-eyed woman which stood on the piano.
“That’s Moira Nicholson. An appealing face, isn’t it? A man who camedown here with some friends of ours some time ago was quite struck withit. He wanted an introduction to her, I think.”
She laughed.
“I’ll ask them to dinner tomorrow night. I’d like to know what you thinkof him.”
“Him?”
“Yes. As I told you, I dislike him, and yet he’s quite an attractive-lookingman.”
Something in her tone made Frankie look at her quickly, but SylviaBassington-ffrench had turned away and was taking some dead flowersout of a vase.
“I must collect my ideas,” thought Frankie, as she drew a comb throughher thick dark hair when dressing20 for dinner that night. “And,” she addedresolutely, “it’s time I made a few experiments.”
Was, or was not, Roger Bassington-ffrench the villain21 she and Bobby as-sumed him to be?
She and Bobby had agreed that whoever had tried to put the latter outof the way must have easy access to morphia. Now in a way this held goodfor Roger Bassington-ffrench. If his brother received supplies of morphiaby post, it would be easy enough for Roger to abstract a packet and use itfor his own purposes.
“Mem.,” wrote Frankie on a sheet of paper: “(1) Find out where Rogerwas on the 16th—day when Bobby was poisoned.”
She thought she saw her way to doing that fairly clearly.
“(2),” she wrote. “Produce picture of dead man and observe reactions ifany. Also note if R.B.F. admits being in Marchbolt then.”
She felt slightly nervous over the second resolution. It meant coming outinto the open. On the other hand, the tragedy had happened in her ownpart of the world, and to mention it casually22 would be the most naturalthing in the world.
She crumpled23 up the sheet of paper and burnt it.
She managed to introduce the first point fairly naturally at dinner.
“You know,” she said frankly to Roger. “I can’t help feeling that we’vemet before. And it wasn’t very long ago, either. It wasn’t, by any chance, atthat party of Lady Shane’s at Claridges. On the 16th it was.”
“It couldn’t have been on the 16th,” said Sylvia quickly. “Roger was herethen. I remember, because we had a children’s party that day and what Ishould have done without Roger I simply don’t know.”
She gave a grateful glance at her brother-in-law and he smiled back ather.
“I don’t feel I’ve ever met you before,” he said thoughtfully to Frankie,and added: “I’m sure if I had I’d remember it.”
He said it rather nicely.
“One point settled,” thought Frankie. “Roger Bassington-ffrench was notin Wales on the day that Bobby was poisoned.”
The second point came up fairly easily later. Frankie led the talk tocountry places, the dullness thereof, and the interest aroused by any localexcitement.
“We had a man fall over the cliff last month,” she remarked. “We wereall thrilled to the core. I went to the inquest full of excitement, but it wasall rather dull, really.”
“Was that a place called Marchbolt?” asked Sylvia suddenly.
Frankie nodded.
“Derwent Castle is only about seven miles from Marchbolt,” she ex-plained.
“Roger, that must have been your man,” cried Sylvia.
Frankie looked inquiringly at him.
“I was actually in at the death,” said Roger. “I stayed with the body tillthe police came.”
“I thought one of the Vicar’s sons did that,” said Frankie.
“He had to go off to play the organ or something—so I took over.”
“How perfectly24 extraordinary,” said Frankie. “I did hear somebody elsehad been there, too, but I never heard the name. So it was you?”
There was a general atmosphere of “How curious. Isn’t the worldsmall?” Frankie felt she was doing this rather well.
“Perhaps that’s where you saw me before—in Marchbolt?” suggestedRoger.
“I wasn’t there actually at the time of the accident,” said Frankie. “Icame back from London a couple of days afterwards. Were you at the in-quest?”
“No. I went back to London the morning after the tragedy.”
“He had some absurd idea of buying a house down there,” said Sylvia.
“Utter nonsense,” said Henry Bassington-ffrench.
“Not at all,” said Roger good-humouredly.
“You know perfectly well, Roger, that as soon as you’d bought it, you’dget a fit of wanderlust and go off abroad again.”
“Oh, I shall settle down some day, Sylvia.”
“When you do you’d better settle down near us,” said Sylvia. “Not go offto Wales.”
Roger laughed. Then he turned to Frankie.
“Any points of interest about the accident? It didn’t turn out to be sui-cide or anything?”
“Oh, no, it was all painfully aboveboard and some appalling25 relationscame and identified the man. He was on a walking tour, it seems. Verysad, really, because he was awfully26 good-looking. Did you see his picturein the papers?”
“I think I did,” said Sylvia vaguely27. “But I don’t remember.”
“I’ve got a cutting upstairs from our local paper.”
Frankie was all eagerness. She ran upstairs and came down with thecutting in her hand. She gave it to Sylvia. Roger came and looked overSylvia’s shoulder.
“Don’t you think he’s good-looking?” she demanded in a rather school-girl manner.
“He is, rather,” said Sylvia. “He looks very like that man, Alan Carstairs,don’t you think so, Roger? I believe I remembered saying so at the time.”
“He’s got quite a look of him here,” agreed Roger. “But there wasn’tmuch real resemblance, you know.”
“You can’t tell from newspaper pictures, can you?” said Sylvia, as shehanded the cutting back.
Frankie agreed that you couldn’t.
The conversation passed to other matters.
Frankie went to bed undecided. Everyone seemed to have reacted withperfect naturalness. Roger’s house-hunting stunt28 had been no secret.
The only thing she had succeeded in getting was a name. The name ofAlan Carstairs.
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1
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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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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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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pinpoints
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| 准确地找出或描述( pinpoint的第三人称单数 )； 为…准确定位 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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sleeplessness
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| n.失眠，警觉 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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12
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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acquit
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| vt.宣判无罪；(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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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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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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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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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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