The Chief Constable1’s eyebrows2 climbed slowly up his forehead in a vainattempt to reach the receding3 line of his grey hair. He cast his eyes up tothe ceiling and then down again to the papers on his desk.
“It beggars description!” he said.
The young man whose business it was to make the right responses to theChief Constable, said:
“Yes, sir.”
“A pretty kettle of fish,” muttered Major Finney. He tapped with his fin-gers on the table. “Is Huish here?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Superintendent4 Huish came about five minutes ago.”
“Right,” said the Chief Constable. “Send him in, will you?”
Superintendent Huish was a tall, sad-looking man. His air of melancholywas so profound that no one would have believed that he could be the lifeand soul of a children’s party, cracking jokes and bringing pennies out oflittle boys’ ears, much to their delight. The Chief Constable said:
“Morning, Huish, this is a pretty kettle of fish we’ve got here. What d’youthink of it?”
Superintendent Huish breathed heavily and sat down in the chair indic-ated.
“It seems as though we made a mistake two years ago,” he said. “Thisfellow—what’s-his-name—”
The Chief Constable rustled5 his papers. “Calory—no, Calgary. Some sortof a professor. Absentminded bloke, maybe? People like that often vagueabout times and all that sort of thing?” There was perhaps a hint of appealin his voice, but Huish did not respond. He said:
“He’s a kind of scientist, I understand.”
“So that you think we’ve got to accept what he says?”
“Well,” said Huish, “Sir Reginald seems to have accepted it, and I don’tsuppose there’s anything would get past him.” This was a tribute to theDirector of Public Prosecutions6.
“No,” said Major Finney, rather unwillingly7. “If the DPP’s convinced,well I suppose we’ve just got to take it. That means opening up the caseagain. You’ve brought the relevant data with you, have you, as I asked?”
“Yes, sir, I’ve got it here.”
The superintendent spread out various documents on the table.
“Been over it?” the Chief Constable asked.
“Yes, sir, I went all over it last night. My memory of it was fairly fresh.
After all, it’s not so long ago.”
“Well, let’s have it, Huish. Where are we?”
“Back at the beginning, sir,” said Superintendent Huish. “The trouble is,you see, there really wasn’t any doubt at the time.”
“No,” said the Chief Constable. “It seemed a perfectly8 clear case. Don’tthink I’m blaming you, Huish. I was behind you a hundred per cent.”
“There wasn’t anything else really that we could think,” said Huishthoughtfully. “A call came in that she’d been killed. The information thatthe boy had been there threatening her, the fingerprint9 evidence—his fin-gerprints on the poker10, and the money. We picked him up almost at onceand there the money was, in his possession.”
“What sort of impression did he make on you at the time?”
Huish considered. “Bad,” he said. “Far too cocky and plausible11. Camereeling out with his times and his alibis12. Cocky. You know the type. Mur-derers are usually cocky. Think they’re so clever. Think whatever they’vedone is sure to be all right, no matter how things go for other people. Hewas a wrong ’un all right.”
“Yes,” Finney agreed, “he was a wrong ’un. All his record goes to provethat. But were you convinced at once that he was a killer13?”
The superintendent considered. “It’s not a thing you can be sure about.
He was the type, I’d say, that very often ends up as a killer. Like Harmonin 1938. Long record behind him of pinched bicycles, swindled money,frauds on elderly women, and finally he does one woman in, pickles14 her inacid, gets pleased with himself and starts making a habit of it. I’d havetaken Jacko Argyle for one of that type.”
“But it seems,” said the Chief Constable slowly, “that we were wrong.”
“Yes,” said Huish, “yes, we were wrong. And the chap’s dead. It’s a badbusiness. Mind you,” he added, with sudden animation16, “he was a wrong’un all right. He may not have been a murderer—in fact he wasn’t a mur-derer, so we find now—but he was a wrong ’un.”
“Well, come on, man,” Finney snapped at him, “who did kill her? You’vebeen over the case, you say, last night. Somebody killed her. The womandidn’t hit herself on the back of her head with the poker. Somebody elsedid. Who was it?”
Superintendent Huish sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I’m wondering if we’ll ever know,” he said.
“Difficult as all that, eh?”
“Yes, because the scent’s cold and because there’ll be very little evidenceto find and I should rather imagine that there never was very much evid-ence.”
“The point being that it was someone in the house, someone close toher?”
“Don’t see who else it could have been,” said the superintendent. “It wassomeone there in the house or it was someone that she herself opened thedoor to and let in. The Argyles were the locking-up type. Burglar bolts onthe windows, chains, extra locks on the front door. They’d had one burg-lary a couple of years before and it had made them burglar conscious.” Hepaused and went on, “The trouble is, sir, that we didn’t look elsewhere atthe time. The case against Jacko Argyle was complete. Of course, one cansee now, the murderer took advantage of that.”
“Took advantage of the fact that the boy had been there, that he’d quar-relled with her and that he’d threatened her?”
“Yes. All that person had to do was to step in the room, pick up thepoker in a gloved hand, from where Jacko had thrown it down, walk up tothe table where Mrs. Argyle was writing and biff her one on the head.”
Major Finney said one simple word:
“Why?”
Superintendent Huish nodded slowly.
“Yes, sir, that’s what we’ve got to find out. It’s going to be one of the diffi-culties. Absence of motive17.”
“There didn’t seem at the time,” said the Chief Constable, “to be any ob-vious motive knocking about, as you might say. Like most other womenwho have property and a considerable fortune of their own, she’d enteredinto such various schemes as are legally permitted to avoid death duties. Abeneficiary trust was already in existence, the children were all providedfor in advance of her death. They’d get nothing further when she did die.
And it wasn’t as though she was an unpleasant woman, nagging18 or bully-ing or mean. She’d lavished19 money on them all their lives. Good educa-tion, capital sums to start them in jobs, handsome allowances to them all.
Affection, kindness, benevolence20.”
“That’s so, sir,” agreed Superintendent Huish. “On the face of it there’sno reason for anyone to want her out of the way. Of course—” He paused.
“Yes, Huish?”
“Mr. Argyle, I understand, is thinking of remarrying. He’s marrying MissGwenda Vaughan, who’s acted as his secretary over a good number ofyears.”
“Yes,” said Major Finney thoughtfully. “I suppose there’s a motive there.
One that we didn’t know about at the time. She’s been working for him forsome years, you say. Think there was anything between them at the timeof the murder?”
“I should rather doubt it, sir,” said Superintendent Huish. “That sort ofthing soon gets talked about in a village. I mean, I don’t think there wereany goings-on, as you might say. Nothing for Mrs. Argyle to find out aboutor cut up rough about.”
“No,” said the Chief Constable, “but he might have wanted to marryGwenda Vaughan quite badly.”
“She’s an attractive young woman,” said Superintendent Huish. “Notglamorous, I wouldn’t say that, but good-looking and attractive in a nicekind of way.”
“Probably been devoted21 to him for years,” said Major Finney. “Thesewomen secretaries always seem to be in love with their boss.”
“Well, we’ve got a motive of a kind for those two,” said Huish. “Thenthere’s the lady help, the Swedish woman. She mightn’t really have beenas fond of Mrs. Argyle as she appeared to be. There might have beenslights or imagined slights; things she resented. She didn’t benefit finan-cially by the death because Mrs. Argyle had already bought her a veryhandsome annuity22. She seems a nice, sensible kind of woman and not thesort you can imagine hitting anyone on the head with a poker! But younever know, do you? Look at the Lizzie Borden case.”
“No,” said the Chief Constable, “you never know. There’s no question ofan outsider of any kind?”
“No trace of one,” said the superintendent. “The drawer where themoney was pulled out. A sort of attempt had been made to make the roomlook as though a burglar had been there, but it was a very amateurish23 ef-fort. Sort of thing that fitted in perfectly with young Jacko having tried tocreate that particular effect.”
“The odd thing to me,” said the Chief Constable, “is the money.”
“Yes,” said Huish. “That’s very difficult to understand. One of the fiversJack Argyle had on him was definitely one that had been given to Mrs.
Argyle at the bank that morning. Mrs. Bottleberry was the name writtenon the back of it. He said his mother had given the money to him, but bothMr. Argyle and Gwenda Vaughan are quite definite that Mrs. Argyle cameinto the library at a quarter to seven and told them about Jacko’s demandsfor money and categorically said she’d refused to give him any.”
“It’s possible, of course,” the Chief Constable pointed24 out, “with what weknow now, that Argyle and the Vaughan girl might have been lying.”
“Yes, that’s a possibility—or perhaps—” the superintendent broke off.
“Yes, Huish?” Finney encouraged him.
“Say someone—we’ll call him or her X for the moment—overheard thequarrel and the threats that Jacko was making. Suppose someone saw anopportunity there. Got the money, ran after the boy, said that his motherafter all wanted him to have it, thus paving the way to one of the prettiestlittle frame- ups ever. Careful to use the poker that he’d picked up tothreaten her with, without smearing25 his fingerprints26.”
“Dammit all,” said the Chief Constable angrily. “None of it seems to fitwith what I know of the family. Who else was in the house that eveningbesides Argyle and Gwenda Vaughan, Hester Argyle and this Lindstromwoman?”
“The eldest27 married daughter, Mary Durrant, and her husband werestaying there.”
“He’s a cripple, isn’t he? That lets him out. What about Mary Durrant?
“She’s a very calm piece of goods, sir. You can’t imagine her getting ex-cited or—well, or killing28 anyone.”
“The servants?” demanded the Chief Constable.
“All dailies, sir, and they’d gone home by six o’clock.”
“Let me have a look at the times.”
The superintendent passed the paper to him.
“H’m—yes, I see. Quarter to seven Mrs. Argyle was in the library talkingto her husband about Jacko’s threats. Gwenda Vaughan was present dur-ing part of the conversation. Gwenda Vaughan went home just afterseven. Hester Argyle saw her mother alive at about two or three minutesto seven. After that, Mrs. Argyle was not seen till half past seven, when herdead body was discovered by Miss Lindstrom. Between seven and halfpast there was plenty of opportunity. Hester could have killed her,Gwenda Vaughan could have killed her after she left the library and be-fore she left the house. Miss Lindstrom could have killed her when she‘discovered the body,’ Leo Argyle was alone in his library from ten pastseven until Miss Lindstrom sounded the alarm. He could have gone to hiswife’s sitting room and killed her any time during that twenty minutes.
Mary Durrant, who was upstairs, could have come down during that halfhour and killed her mother. And”— said Finney thoughtfully —“Mrs.
Argyle herself could have let anyone in by the front door as we thoughtshe let Jack15 Argyle in. Leo Argyle said, if you remember, that he thought hedid hear a ring at the bell, and the sound of the front door opening andclosing, but he was very vague about the time. We assumed that that waswhen Jacko returned and killed her.”
“He needn’t have rung the bell,” said Huish. “He had a key of his own.
They all had.”
“There’s another brother, isn’t there?”
“Yes, Michael. Works as a car salesman in Drymouth.”
“You’d better find out, I suppose,” said the Chief Constable, “what he wasdoing that evening.”
“After two years?” said Superintendent Huish. “Not likely anyone willremember, is it?”
“Was he asked at the time?”
“Out testing a customer’s car, I understand. No reason for suspectinghim then, but he had a key and he could have come over and killed her.”
The Chief Constable sighed.
“I don’t know how you’re going to set about it, Huish. I don’t knowwhether we’re ever going to get anywhere.”
“I’d like to know myself who killed her,” said Huish. “From all I canmake out, she was a fine type of woman. She’d done a lot for people. Forunlucky children, for all sorts of charities. She’s the sort of person thatoughtn’t to have been killed. Yes. I’d like to know. Even if we can never getenough evidence to satisfy the DPP I’d still like to know.”
“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Huish,” said the Chief Constable. “For-tunately we’ve nothing very much on just now, but don’t be discouraged ifyou can’t get anywhere. It’s a very cold trail. Yes. It’s a very cold trail.”
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收听单词发音
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1
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prosecutions
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| 起诉( prosecution的名词复数 )； 原告； 实施； 从事 | |
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7
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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8
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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9
fingerprint
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| n.指纹；vt.取...的指纹 | |
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10
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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11
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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12
alibis
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| 某人在别处的证据( alibi的名词复数 )； 不在犯罪现场的证人； 借口； 托辞 | |
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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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pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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15
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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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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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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nagging
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| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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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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annuity
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| n.年金；养老金 | |
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amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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smearing
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| 污点，拖尾效应 | |
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fingerprints
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| n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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