Calgary said apologetically, “It’s very good of you to see me again, Mr.
Marshall.”
“Not at all,” said the lawyer.
“As you know, I went down to Sunny Point and saw Jack1 Argyle’s fam-ily.”
“Quite so.”
“You will have heard by now, I expect, about my visit?”
“Yes, Dr. Calgary, that is correct.”
“What you may find it difficult to understand is why I have come backhere to you again … You see, things didn’t turn out exactly as I thoughtthey would.”
“No,” said the lawyer, “no, perhaps not.” His voice was as usual dry andunemotional, yet something in it encouraged Arthur Calgary to continue.
“I thought, you see,” went on Calgary, “that that would be the end of it. Iwas prepared for a certain amount of—what shall I say—natural resent-ment on their part. Although concussion2 may be termed, I suppose, an Actof God, yet from their viewpoint they could be forgiven for that, as I say.
But at the same time I hoped it would be offset3 by the thankfulness theywould feel over the fact that Jack Argyle’s name was cleared. But thingsdidn’t turn out as I anticipated. Not at all.”
“I see.”
“Perhaps, Mr. Marshall, you anticipated something of what would hap-pen? Your manner, I remember, puzzled me when I was here before. Didyou foresee the attitude of mind that I was going to encounter?”
“You haven’t told me yet, Dr. Calgary, what that attitude was.”
Arthur Calgary drew his chair forward. “I thought that I was endingsomething, giving—shall we say—a different end to a chapter alreadywritten. But I was made to feel, I was made to see, that instead of endingsomething I was starting something. Something altogether new. Is that atrue statement, do you think, of the position?”
Mr. Marshall nodded his head slowly. “Yes,” he said, “it could be put thatway. I did think—I admit it—that you were not realizing all the implica-tions. You could not be expected to do so because, naturally, you knewnothing of the background or of the facts except as they were given in thelaw reports.”
“No. No, I see that now. Only too clearly.” His voice rose as he went onexcitedly, “It wasn’t really relief they felt, it wasn’t thankfulness. It was ap-prehension. A dread4 of what might be coming next. Am I right?”
Marshall said cautiously: “I should think probably that you are quiteright. Mind you, I do not speak of my own knowledge.”
“And if so,” went on Calgary, “then I no longer feel that I can go back tomy work satisfied with having made the only amends5 that I can make. I’mstill involved. I’m responsible for bringing a new factor into variouspeople’s lives. I can’t just wash my hands of it.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “That, perhaps, is a rather fanciful pointof view, Dr. Calgary.”
“I don’t think it is—not really. One must take responsibility for one’s ac-tions and not only one’s actions but for the result of one’s actions. Just ontwo years ago I gave a lift to a young hitchhiker on the road. When I didthat I set in train a certain course of events. I don’t feel that I can disasso-ciate myself from them.”
The lawyer still shook his head.
“Very well, then,” said Arthur Calgary impatiently. “Call it fanciful if youlike. But my feelings, my conscience, are still involved. My only wish wasto make amends for something it had been outside my power to prevent. Ihave not made amends. In some curious way I have made things worsefor people who have already suffered. But I still don’t understand clearlywhy.”
“No,” said Marshall slowly, “no, you would not see why. For the pasteighteen months or so you’ve been out of touch with civilization. You didnot read the daily papers, the account of this family that was given in thenewspapers. Possibly you would not have read them anyway, but youcould not have escaped, I think, hearing about them. The facts are verysimple, Dr. Calgary. They are not confidential6. They were made public atthe time. It resolves itself very simply into this. If Jack Argyle did not (andby your account he cannot have), committed the crime, then who did? Thatbrings us back to the circumstances in which the crime was committed. Itwas committed between the hours of seven and seven-thirty on a Novem-ber evening in a house where the deceased woman was surrounded bythe members of her own family and household. The house was securelylocked and shuttered and if anyone entered from outside, then the out-sider must have been admitted by Mrs. Argyle herself or have enteredwith their own key. In other words, it must have been someone she knew.
It resembles in some ways the conditions of the Borden case in Americawhere Mr. Borden and his wife were struck down by blows of an axe7 on aSunday morning. Nobody in the house heard anything, nobody wasknown or seen to approach the house. You can see, Dr. Calgary, why themembers of the family were, as you put it, disturbed rather than relievedby the news you brought them?”
Calgary said slowly: “They’d rather, you mean, that Jack Argyle wasguilty?”
“Oh yes,” said Marshall. “Oh yes, very decidedly so. If I may put it in asomewhat cynical9 way, Jack Argyle was the perfect answer to the unpleas-ant fact of murder in the family. He had been a problem child, a delin-quent boy, a man of violent temper. Excuses could be and were made forhim within the family circle. They could mourn for him, have sympathywith him, declare to themselves, to each other, and to the world that it wasnot really his fault, that psychologists could explain it all! Yes, very, veryconvenient.”
“And now—” Calgary stopped.
“And now,” said Mr. Marshall, “it is different, of course. Quite different.
Almost alarming perhaps.”
Calgary said shrewdly, “The news I brought was unwelcome to you, too,wasn’t it?”
“I must admit that. Yes. Yes, I must admit that I was—upset. A casewhich was closed satisfactorily—yes, I shall continue to use the word satis-factorily—is now reopened.”
“Is that official?” Calgary asked. “I mean—from the police point of view,will the case be reopened?”
“Oh, undoubtedly,” said Marshall. “When Jack Argyle was found guiltyon overwhelming evidence—(the jury was only out a quarter of an hour)—that was an end of the matter as far as the police were concerned. Butnow, with the grant of a free pardon posthumously10 awarded, the case isopened again.”
“And the police will make fresh investigations11?”
“Almost certainly I should say. Of course,” added Marshall, rubbing hischin thoughtfully, “it is doubtful after this lapse12 of time, owing to the pecu-liar features of the case, whether they will be able to achieve any result …For myself, I should doubt it. They may know that someone in the house isguilty. They may get so far as to have a very shrewd idea of who thatsomeone is. But to get definite evidence will not be easy.”
“I see,” said Calgary. “I see … Yes, that’s what she meant.”
The lawyer said sharply: “Of whom are you speaking?”
“The girl,” said Calgary. “Hester Argyle.”
“Ah, yes. Young Hester.” He asked curiously13: “What did she say to you?”
“She spoke14 of the innocent,” said Calgary. “She said it wasn’t the guiltywho mattered but the innocent. I understand now what she meant….”
Marshall cast a sharp glance at him. “I think possibly you do.”
“She meant just what you are saying,” said Arthur Calgary. “She meantthat once more the family would be under suspicion—”
Marshall interrupted. “Hardly once more,” he said. “There was nevertime for the family to come under suspicion before. Jack Argyle wasclearly indicated from the first.”
Calgary waved the interruption aside.
“The family would come under suspicion,” he said, “and it might remainunder suspicion for a long time—perhaps for ever. If one of the familywas guilty it is possible that they themselves would not know which one.
They would look at each other and—wonder … Yes, that’s what would bethe worst of all. They themselves would not know which….”
There was silence. Marshall watched Calgary with a quiet, appraisingglance, but he said nothing.
“That’s terrible, you know …” said Calgary.
His thin, sensitive face showed the play of emotion on it.
“Yes, that’s terrible … To go on year after year not knowing, looking atone15 another, perhaps the suspicion affecting one’s relationships withpeople. Destroying love, destroying trust….”
Marshall cleared his throat.
“Aren’t you—er—putting it rather too vividly16?”
“No,” said Calgary, “I don’t think I am. I think, perhaps, if you’ll excuseme, Mr. Marshall, I see this more clearly than you do. I can imagine, yousee, what it might mean.”
Again there was silence.
“It means,” said Calgary, “that it is the innocent who are going to suffer… And the innocent should not suffer. Only the guilty. That’s why—that’swhy I can’t wash my hands of it. I can’t go away and say ‘I’ve done theright thing, I’ve made what amends I can—I’ve served the cause of justice,’
because you see what I have done has not served the cause of justice. Ithas not brought conviction to the guilty, it has not delivered the innocentfrom the shadow of guilt8.”
“I think you’re working yourself up a little, Dr. Calgary. What you sayhas some foundation of truth, no doubt, but I don’t see exactly what—well,what you can do about it.”
“No. Nor do I,” said Calgary frankly17. “But it means that I’ve got to try.
That’s really why I’ve come to you, Mr. Marshall. I want—I think I’ve aright to know—the background.”
“Oh, well,” said Mr. Marshall, his tone slightly brisker. “There’s no secretabout all that. I can give you any facts you want to know. More than facts Iam not in a position to give you. I’ve never been on intimate terms withthe household. Our firm has acted for Mrs. Argyle over a number of years.
We have cooperated with her over establishing various trusts and seeingto legal business. Mrs. Argyle herself I knew reasonably well and I alsoknew her husband. Of the atmosphere at Sunny Point, of the tempera-ments and characters of the various people living there, I only know asyou might say, at second-hand18 through Mrs. Argyle herself.”
“I quite understand all that,” said Calgary, “but I’ve got to make a startsomewhere. I understand that the children were not her own. That theywere adopted?”
“That is so. Mrs. Argyle was born Rachel Konstam, the only daughter ofRudolph Konstam, a very rich man. Her mother was American and also avery rich woman in her own right. Rudolph Konstam had many philan-thropic interests and brought his daughter up to take an interest in thesebenevolent schemes. He and his wife died in an aeroplane crash andRachel then devoted19 the large fortune she inherited from her father andmother to what we may term, loosely, philanthropical enterprises. Shetook a personal interest in these benefactions and did a certain amount ofsettlement work herself. It was in doing the latter that she met Leo Argyle,who was an Oxford20 Don, with a great interest in economics and social re-form. To understand Mrs. Argyle you have to realize that the great tragedyof her life was that she was unable to have children. As is the case withmany women, this disability gradually overshadowed the whole of herlife. When after visits to all kinds of specialists, it seemed clear that shecould never hope to be a mother, she had to find what alleviation21 shecould. She adopted first a child from a slum tenement22 in New York—thatis the present Mrs. Durrant. Mrs. Argyle devoted herself almost entirely23 tocharities connected with children. On the outbreak of war in 1939 she es-tablished under the auspices24 of the Ministry25 of Health a kind of war nurs-ery for children, purchasing the house you visited, Sunny Point.”
“Then called Viper’s Point,” said Calgary.
“Yes. Yes, I believe that was the original name. Ah, yes, perhaps in theend a more suitable name than the name she chose for it—Sunny Point. In1940 she had about twelve to sixteen children, mostly those who had un-satisfactory guardians26 or who could not be evacuated27 with their own fam-ilies. Everything was done for these children. They were given a luxurioushome. I remonstrated28 with her, pointing out to her it was going to be diffi-cult for the children after several years of war, to return from these lux-urious surroundings to their homes. She paid no attention to me. She wasdeeply attached to the children and finally she formed the project ofadding some of them, those from particularly unsatisfactory homes orwho were orphans29, to her own family. This resulted in a family of five.
Mary—now married to Philip Durrant—Michael, who works in Drymouth,Tina, a half-caste child, Hester, and of course, Jacko. They grew up regard-ing the Argyles as their father and mother. They were given the best edu-cation money could buy. If environment counts for anything they shouldhave gone far. They certainly had every advantage. Jack—or Jacko, as theycalled him—was always unsatisfactory. He stole money at school and hadto be taken away. He got into trouble in his first year at the university.
Twice he only avoided a jail sentence by a very narrow margin30. He alwayshad an ungovernable temper. All this, however, you probably havealready gathered. Twice embezzlement31 on his part was made good by theArgyles. Twice money was spent in setting him up in business. Twice thesebusiness enterprises failed. After his death an allowance was paid, and in-deed is still paid, to his widow.”
Calgary leant forward in astonishment32.
“His widow? Nobody has ever told me that he was married.”
“Dear, dear.” The lawyer clicked his thumb irritably33. “I have been re-miss. I had forgotten, of course, that you had not read the newspaper re-ports. I may say that none of the Argyle family had any idea that he wasmarried. Immediately after his arrest his wife appeared at Sunny Point ingreat distress34. Mr. Argyle was very good to her. She was a young womanwho had worked as a dance hostess in the Drymouth Palais de Danse. Iprobably forgot to tell you about her because she remarried a few weeksafter Jack’s death. Her present husband is an electrician, I believe, in Dry-mouth.”
“I must go and see her,” said Calgary. He added, reproachfully, “She isthe first person I should have gone to see.”
“Certainly, certainly. I will give you the address. I really cannot thinkwhy I did not mention it to you when you first came to me.”
Calgary was silent.
“She was such a—well—negligible factor,” said the lawyer apologetic-ally. “Even the newspapers did not play her up much—she never visitedher husband in prison—or took any further interest in him—”
Calgary had been deep in thought. He said now:
“Can you tell me exactly who was in that house on the night Mrs. Argylewas killed?”
Marshall gave him a sharp glance.
“Leo Argyle, of course, and the youngest daughter, Hester. Mary Durrantand her invalid35 husband were there on a visit. He had just come out ofhospital. Then there was Kirsten Lindstrom—whom you probably met—she is a Swedish trained nurse and masseuse who originally came to helpMrs. Argyle with her war nursery and has remained on ever since. Mi-chael and Tina were not there—Michael works as a car salesman in Dry-mouth and Tina has a job in the County Library at Redmyn and lives in aflat there.”
Marshall paused before going on.
“There was also Miss Vaughan, Mr. Argyle’s secretary. She had left thehouse before the body was discovered.”
“I met her also,” said Calgary. “She seems very—attached to Mr. Argyle.”
“Yes—yes. I believe there may shortly be an engagement announced.”
“Ah!”
“He has been very lonely since his wife died,” said the lawyer, with afaint note of reproof36 in his voice.
“Quite so,” said Calgary.
Then he said:
“What about motive37, Mr. Marshall?”
“My dear Dr. Calgary, I really cannot speculate as to that!”
“I think you can. As you have said yourself the facts are ascertainable38.”
“There was no direct monetary39 benefit to anyone. Mrs. Argyle hadentered into a series of discretionary Trusts, a formula which as you knowis much adopted nowadays. These Trusts were in favour of all the chil-dren. They are administered by three Trustees, of whom I am one, LeoArgyle is one and the third is an American lawyer, a distant cousin of Mrs.
Argyle’s. The very large sum of money involved is administered by thesethree Trustees and can be adjusted so as to benefit those beneficiaries ofthe Trust who need it most.”
“What about Mr. Argyle? Did he profit in a monetary sense by his wife’sdeath?”
“Not to any great extent. Most of her fortune, as I have told you, hadgone into Trusts. She left him the residue40 of her estate, but that did notamount to a large sum.”
“And Miss Lindstrom?”
“Mrs. Argyle had bought a very handsome annuity41 for Miss Lindstromsome years previously42.” Marshall added irritably, “Motive? There doesn’tseem to me a ha’porth of motive about. Certainly no financial motive.”
“And in the emotional field? Was there any special—friction?”
“There, I’m afraid, I can’t help you.” Marshall spoke with finality. “Iwasn’t an observer of the family life.”
“Is there anyone who could?”
Marshall considered for a moment or two. Then he said, almost reluct-antly:
“You might go and see the local doctor. Dr.—er—MacMaster, I think hisname is. He’s retired43 now, but still lives in the neighbourhood. He wasmedical attendant to the war nursery. He must have known and seen agood deal of the life at Sunny Point. Whether you can persuade him to tellyou anything is up to you. But I think that if he chose, he might be helpful,though—pardon me for saying this—do you think it likely that you can ac-complish anything that the police cannot accomplish much more easily?”
“I don’t know,” said Calgary. “Probably not. But I do know this. I’ve gotto try. Yes, I’ve got to try.”
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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posthumously
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| adv.于死后，于身后；于著作者死后出版地 | |
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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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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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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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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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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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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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alleviation
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| n. 减轻，缓和，解痛物 | |
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tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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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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auspices
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| n.资助，赞助 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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embezzlement
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| n.盗用，贪污 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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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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ascertainable
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| adj.可确定（探知），可发现的 | |
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monetary
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| adj.货币的，钱的；通货的；金融的；财政的 | |
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residue
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| n.残余，剩余，残渣 | |
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annuity
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| n.年金；养老金 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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