Carrying the three watercolours of my choice under my arm, I emergedfrom Forty- nine Ellesmere Square and immediately cannoned1 intosomeone coming up the steps to the front door. I apologised, received apo-logies in return, and was just about to hail a passing taxi when somethingclicked in my mind and I turned sharply to ask:
“Hallo—isn’t it Corrigan?”
“It is—and—yes—you’re Mark Easterbrook!”
Jim Corrigan and I had been friends in our Oxford2 days—but it musthave been fifteen years or more since we had last met.
“Thought I knew you—but couldn’t place you for the moment,” said Cor-rigan. “I read your articles now and again—and enjoy them, I must say.”
“What about you? Have you gone in for research as you meant to do?”
Corrigan sighed.
“Hardly. It’s an expensive job—if you want to strike out on your own.
Unless you can find a tame millionaire, or a suggestible Trust.”
“Liver flukes, wasn’t it?”
“What a memory! No, I went off liver flukes. The properties of the secre-tions of the Mandarian glands3; that’s my present- day interest. Youwouldn’t have heard of them! Connected with the spleen. Apparentlyserving no purpose whatever!”
He spoke5 with a scientist’s enthusiasm.
“What’s the big idea, then?”
“Well,” Corrigan sounded apologetic. “I have a theory that they may in-fluence behaviour. To put it very crudely, they may act rather as the fluidin your car brakes does. No fluid—the brakes don’t act. In human beings,a deficiency in these secretions6 might— I only say might—make you acriminal.”
I whistled.
“And what happens to Original Sin?”
“What indeed?” said Dr. Corrigan. “The parsons wouldn’t like it, wouldthey? I haven’t been able to interest anyone in my theory, unfortunately.
So I’m a police surgeon, in N.W. division. Quite interesting. One sees a lotof criminal types. But I won’t bore you with shop—unless you’ll come andhave some lunch with me?”
“I’d like to. But you were going in there,” I nodded towards the housebehind Corrigan.
“Not really,” said Corrigan. “I was just going to gatecrash.”
“There’s nobody there but a caretaker.”
“So I imagined. But I wanted to find out something about the late LadyHesketh-Dubois if I could.”
“I daresay I can tell you more than a caretaker could. She was my god-mother.”
“Was she indeed? That’s a bit of luck. Where shall we go to feed? There’sa little place off Lowndes Square—not grand, but they do a special kind ofseafood soup.”
We settled ourselves in the little restaurant—a cauldron of steamingsoup was brought to us by a pale-faced lad in French sailor trousers.
“Delicious,” I said, sampling the soup. “Now then, Corrigan, what do youwant to know about the old lady? And incidentally, why?”
“Why’s rather a long story,” said my friend. “First tell me what kind ofan old lady she was?”
I considered.
“She was an old-fashioned type,” I said. “Victorian. Widow of an ex-Gov-ernor of some obscure island. She was rich and liked her comfort. Wentabroad in the winters to Estoril and places like that. Her house is hideous,full of Victorian furniture and the worst and most ornate kind of Victoriansilver. She had no children, but kept a couple of fairly well- behavedpoodles whom she loved dearly. She was opinionated and a staunch Con-servative. Kindly7, but autocratic. Very set in her ways. What more do youwant to know?”
“I’m not quite sure,” said Corrigan. “Was she ever likely to have beenblackmailed, would you say?”
“Blackmailed?” I asked in lively astonishment9. “I can imagine nothingmore unlikely. What is this all about?”
It was then I heard for the first time of the circumstances of Father Gor-man’s murder.
I laid down my spoon and asked,
“This list of names? Have you got it?”
“Not the original. But I copied them out. Here you are.”
I took the paper he produced from his pocket and proceeded to study it.
“Parkinson? I know two Parkinsons. Arthur who went into the Navy.
Then there’s a Henry Parkinson in one of the Ministries10. Ormerod—there’sa Major Ormerod in the Blues—Sandford—our old Rector when I was aboy was Sandford. Harmondsworth? No—Tuckerton—” I paused. “Tucker-ton… Not Thomasina Tuckerton, I suppose?”
Corrigan looked at me curiously11.
“Could be, for all I know. Who’s she and what does she do?”
“Nothing now. Her death was in the paper about a week ago.”
“That’s not much help, then.”
I continued with my reading. “Shaw. I know a dentist called Shaw, andthere’s Jerome Shaw, Q.C…. Delafontaine—I’ve heard that name lately, butI can’t remember where. Corrigan. Does that refer to you, by any chance?”
“I devoutly12 hope not. I’ve a feeling that it’s unlucky to have your nameon that list.”
“Maybe. What made you think of blackmail8 in connection with it?”
“It was Detective-Inspector Lejeune’s suggestion if I remember rightly. Itseemed the most likely possibility—But there are plenty of others. Thismay be a list of dope smugglers or drug addicts14 or secret agents—it maybe anything in fact. There’s only one thing sure, it was important enoughfor murder to be committed in order to get hold of it.”
I asked curiously: “Do you always take such an interest in the police sideof your work?”
He shook his head.
“Can’t say I do. My interest is in criminal character. Background, up-bringing, and particularly glandular16 health—all that!”
“Then why the interest in this list of names?”
“Blessed if I know,” said Corrigan slowly. “Seeing my own name on thelist, perhaps. Up the Corrigans! One Corrigan to the rescue of another Cor-rigan.”
“Rescue? Then you definitely see this as a list of victims—not a list ofmalefactors. But surely it could be either?”
“You’re entirely17 right. And it’s certainly odd that I should be so positive.
Perhaps it’s just a feeling. Or perhaps it’s something to do with Father Gor-man. I didn’t come across him very often, but he was a fine man, respec-ted by everyone and loved by his own flock. He was the good tough milit-ant kind. I can’t get it out of my head that he considered this list a matterof life or death….”
“Aren’t the police getting anywhere?”
“Oh yes, but it’s a long business. Checking here, checking there. Check-ing the antecedents of the woman who called him out that night.”
“Who was she?”
“No mystery about her, apparently4. Widow. We had an idea that herhusband might have been connected with horse racing18, but that doesn’tseem to be so. She worked for a small commercial firm that does con-sumer research. Nothing wrong there. They are a reputable firm in asmall way. They don’t know much about her. She came from the north ofEngland—Lancashire. The only odd thing about her is that she had so fewpersonal possessions.”
I shrugged19 my shoulders.
“I expect that’s true for a lot more people than we ever imagine. It’s alonely world.”
“Yes, as you say.”
“Anyway, you decided20 to take a hand?”
“Just nosing around. Hesketh-Dubois is an uncommon21 name. I thought ifI could find out a little about the lady—” He left the sentence unfinished.
“But from what you tell me, there doesn’t seem to be any possible leadthere.”
“Neither a dope addict13 nor a dope smuggler,” I assured him. “Certainlynot a secret agent. Has led far too blameless a life to have been black-mailed. I can’t imagine what kind of a list she could possibly be on. Herjewellery she keeps at the bank so she wouldn’t be a hopeful prospect22 forrobbery.”
“Any other Hesketh-Duboises that you know about? Sons?”
“No children. She’s got a nephew and a niece, I think, but not of thatname. Her husband was an only child.”
Corrigan told me sourly that I’d been a lot of help. He looked at hiswatch, remarked cheerfully that he was due to cut somebody up, and weparted.
I went home thoughtful, found it impossible to concentrate on my work,and finally, on an impulse, rang up David Ardingly.
“David? Mark here. That girl I met with you the other evening. Poppy.
What’s her other name?”
“Going to pinch my girl, is that it?”
David sounded highly amused.
“You’ve got so many of them,” I retorted. “You could surely spare one.”
“You’ve got a heavyweight of your own, old boy. I thought you were go-ing steady with her.”
“Going steady.” A repulsive23 term. And yet, I thought, struck suddenlywith its aptitude24, how well it described my relationship with Hermia. Andwhy should it make me feel depressed25? I had always felt in the back of mymind that someday Hermia and I would marry… I liked her better thananyone I knew. We had so much in common….
For no conceivable reason, I felt a terrible desire to yawn… Our futurestretched out before me. Hermia and I going to plays of significance—thatmattered. Discussions of art—of music. No doubt about it, Hermia was theperfect companion.
But not much fun, said some derisive26 imp15, popping up from my subcon-scious. I was shocked.
“Gone to sleep?” asked David.
“Of course not. To tell the truth, I found your friend Poppy very refresh-ing.”
“Good word. She is—taken in small doses. Her actual name is PamelaStirling, and she works in one of those arty flower places in Mayfair. Youknow, three dead twigs27, a tulip with its petals28 pinned back and a speckledlaurel leaf. Price three guineas.”
He gave me the address.
“Take her out and enjoy yourself,” he said in a kindly avuncular29 fashion.
“You’ll find it a great relaxation30. That girl knows nothing—she’s absolutelyempty-headed. She’ll believe anything you tell her. She’s virtuous31 by theway, so don’t indulge in any false hopes.”
He rang off.
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1
cannoned
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| vi.与…猛撞（cannon的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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glands
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| n.腺( gland的名词复数 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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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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secretions
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| n.分泌（物）( secretion的名词复数 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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ministries
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| （政府的）部( ministry的名词复数 )； 神职； 牧师职位； 神职任期 | |
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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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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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addict
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| v.使沉溺；使上瘾；n.沉溺于不良嗜好的人 | |
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addicts
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| 有…瘾的人( addict的名词复数 )； 入迷的人 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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glandular
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| adj.腺体的 | |
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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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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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aptitude
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| n.(学习方面的)才能，资质，天资 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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avuncular
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| adj.叔伯般的，慈祥的 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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