England!
England after many years!
How was he going to like it?
Luke Fitzwilliam asked himself that question as he walked down thegangplank to the dock. It was present at the back of his mind all throughthe wait in the Customs’ shed. It came suddenly to the fore1 when he was fi-nally seated in the boat train.
England on leave was one thing. Plenty of money to blue (to begin withanyway!), old friends to look up, meetings with other fellows home likehimself—a carefree atmosphere of “Well, it won’t be long. Might as wellenjoy myself! Soon be going back.”
But now there was no question of going back. No more of the hot stiflingnights, no more blinding sun and tropical beauty of rich vegetation, nomore lonely evenings reading and re-reading old copies of The Times.
Here he was, honourably2 retired3 on a pension, with some small privatemeans of his own, a gentleman of leisure, come home to England. Whatwas he going to do with himself?
England! England on a June day, with a grey sky and a sharp bitingwind. Nothing welcoming about her on a day like this! And the people!
Heavens, the people! Crowds of them, all with grey faces like the sky—anxious worried faces. The houses too, springing up everywhere likemushrooms. Nasty little houses! Revolting little houses! Chicken coops inthe grandiose4 manner all over the countryside!
With an effort Luke Fitzwilliam averted5 his eyes from the landscape out-side the railway carriage window and settled down to a perusal6 of the pa-pers he had just bought. The Times, the Daily Clarion7 and Punch.
He started with the Daily Clarion. The Clarion was given over entirely8 toEpsom.
Luke thought: “A pity we didn’t get in yesterday. Haven’t seen the Derbyrun since I was nineteen.”
He had drawn9 a horse in the Club sweep and he looked now to see whatthe Clarion’s racing10 correspondent thought of its chance. He found it dis-missed contemptuously in a sentence.
“Of the others, Jujube the II., Mark’s Mile, Santony andJerry Boy are hardly likely to qualify for a place. A likelyoutsider is—”
But Luke paid no attention to the likely outsider. His eye had shifted tothe betting. Jujube the II. was listed at a modest 40 to 1.
He glanced at his watch. A quarter to four. “Well,” he thought. “It’s overnow.” And he wished he’d had a bet on Clarigold who was the second fa-vourite.
Then he opened The Times and became absorbed in more serious mat-ters.
Not for long, however, for a fierce-looking colonel in the corner oppositewas so incensed11 at what he himself had just read that he had to pass onhis indignation to his fellow passenger. A full half hour passed before thecolonel tired of saying what he thought about “these damned Communistagitators, sir.”
The colonel died down at last and finally dropped off to sleep with hismouth open. Shortly afterwards the train slowed down and finallystopped. Luke looked out of the window. They were in a large empty-look-ing station with many platforms. He caught sight of a bookstall some wayup the platform with a placard: DERBY RESULT. Luke opened the door,jumped out, and ran towards the bookstall. A moment later he was staringwith a broad grin at a few smudged lines in the stop press.
Derby Result
JUJUBE THE II.
MAZEPPA
CLARIGOLD
Luke grinned broadly. A hundred pounds to blue! Good old Jujube theII., so scornfully dismissed by all the tipsters.
He folded the paper, still grinning to himself, and turned back—to faceemptiness. In the excitement of Jujube the II.’s victory, his train hadslipped out of the station unnoticed by him.
“When the devil did that train go out?” he demanded of a gloomy-look-ing porter.
The latter replied:
“What train? There hasn’t been no train since the 3:14.”
“There was a train here just now. I got out of it. The boat express.”
The porter replied austerely12:
“The boat express don’t stop anywhere till London.”
“But it did,” Luke assured him. “I got out of it.”
“No stop anywhere till London,” repeated the porter immovably.
“It stopped at this very platform and I got out of it, I tell you.”
Faced by facts, the porter changed his ground.
“You didn’t ought to have done,” he said reproachfully. “It don’t stophere.”
“But it did.”
“That ’twas signal, that was. Signal against it. It didn’t what you’d call‘stop.’”
“I’m not so good at these fine distinctions as you are,” said Luke. “Thepoint is, what do I do next?”
The porter, a man of slow ideas, repeated reproachfully: “You didn’tought to have got out.”
“We’ll admit that,” said Luke. “The wrong is done, past all recall—weepwe never so bitterly we can never bring back the dead past—Quoth theraven ‘Nevermore’—The moving finger writes; and having writ13 moves on,etc., etc., and so on and so forth14. What I’m trying to get at is, what do you,a man experienced in the service of the railway company, advise me to donow?”
“You’re asking what you’d better do?”
“That,” said Luke, “is the idea. There are, I presume, trains that stop,really officially stop, here?”
“Reckon,” said the porter. “You’d best go on by the 4:25.”
“If the 4:25 goes to London,” said Luke, “the 4:25 is the train for me.”
Reassured15 on that point, Luke strolled up and down the platform. Alarge board informed him that he was at Fenny16 Clayton Junction17 forWychwood-under-Ashe, and presently a train consisting of one carriagepushed backwards18 by an antiquated19 little engine came slowly puffing20 inand deposited itself in a modest bay. Six or seven people alighted, andcrossing over a bridge, came to join Luke on his platform. The gloomyporter suddenly awoke to life and began pushing about a large truck ofcrates and baskets, another porter joined him and began to rattle21 milkcans. Fenny Clayton awoke to life.
At last, with immense importance the London train came in. The third-class carriages were crowded, and of firsts there were only three and eachone contained a traveller or travellers. Luke scrutinized22 each compart-ment. The first, a smoker23, contained a gentleman of military aspectsmoking a cigar. Luke felt he had had enough of Anglo-Indian colonelstoday. He passed on to the next one, which contained a tired-looking gen-teel young woman, possibly a nursery governess, and an active-lookingsmall boy of about three. Luke passed on quickly. The next door was openand the carriage contained one passenger, an elderly lady. She remindedLuke slightly of one of his aunts, his Aunt Mildred, who had courageouslyallowed him to keep a grass snake when he was ten years old. Aunt Mil-dred had been decidedly a good aunt as aunts go. Luke entered the car-riage and sat down.
After some five minutes of intense activity on the part of milk vans, lug-gage trucks and other excitements, the train moved slowly out of the sta-tion. Luke unfolded his paper and turned to such items of news as mightinterest a man who had already read his morning paper.
He did not hope to read it for long. Being a man of many aunts, he wasfairly certain that the nice old lady in the corner did not propose to travelin silence to London.
He was right—a window that needed adjusting, dropped umbrella—andthe way the old lady was telling him what a good train this was.
“Only an hour and ten minutes. That’s very good, you know, very goodindeed. Much better than the morning one. That takes an hour and fortyminutes.”
She went on:
“Of course, nearly everyone goes by the morning one. I mean, when it isthe cheap day it’s silly to go up in the afternoon. I meant to go up thismorning, but Wonky Pooh was missing—that’s my cat, a Persian, such abeauty only he’s had a painful ear lately—and of course I couldn’t leavehome till he was found!”
Luke murmured:
“Of course not,” and let his eyes drop ostentatiously to his paper. But itwas of no avail. The flood went on.
“So I just made the best of a bad job and took the afternoon train in-stead, and of course it’s a blessing24 in one way because it’s not so crowded—not that that matters when one is travelling first class. Of course, I don’tusually do that. I mean, I should consider it an extravagance, what withtaxes and one’s dividends25 being less and servants’ wages so much moreand everything—but really I was so upset because you see, I’m going upon very important business, and I wanted to think out exactly what I wasgoing to say — just quietly, you know —” Luke repressed a smile. “Andwhen there are people you know travelling up too—well, one can’t be un-friendly—so I thought just for once, the expense was quite permissible—though I do think nowadays there is so much waste—and nobody saves orthinks of the future. One is sorry the seconds were ever abolished—it didmake just that little difference.
“Of course,” she went on quickly, with a swift glance at Luke’s bronzedface, “I know soldiers on leave have to travel first class. I mean, being of-ficers, it’s expected of them—”
Luke sustained the inquisitive26 glance of a pair of bright twinkling eyes.
He capitulated at once. It would come to it, he knew, in the end.
“I’m not a soldier,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I just thought—you were so brown—per-haps home from the East on leave.”
“I’m home from the East,” said Luke. “But not on leave.” He stalled offfurther researches with a bald statement. “I’m a policeman.”
“In the police? Now really, that’s very interesting. A dear friend of mine—her boy has just joined the Palestine police.”
“Mayang Straits,” said Luke, taking another shortcut27.
“Oh, dear—very interesting. Really, it’s quite a coincidence—I mean,that you should be travelling in this carriage. Because, you see, this busi-ness I’m going up to town about—well, actually it is to Scotland Yard I’mgoing.”
“Really?” said Luke.
He thought to himself, “Will she run down soon like a clock or will thisgo on all the way to London?” But he did not really mind very much, be-cause he had been very fond of his Aunt Mildred, and he rememberedhow she had once stumped28 up a fiver in the nick of time. Besides, therewas something very cosy29 and English about old ladies like this old ladyand his Aunt Mildred. There was nothing at all like them in the MayangStraits. They could be classed with plum pudding on Christmas Day andvillage cricket and open fireplaces with wood fires. The sort of things youappreciated a good deal when you hadn’t got them and were on the otherside of the world. (They were also the sort of thing you got very boredwith when you had a good deal of them, but as has been already told, Lukehad only landed in England three or four hours ago.)The old lady was continuing happily:
“Yes, I meant to go up this morning—and then, as I told you, I was soworried about Wonky Pooh. But you don’t think it will be too late, do you?
I mean, there aren’t any special office hours at Scotland Yard.”
“I don’t think they close down at four or anything like that,” said Luke.
“No, of course, they couldn’t, could they? I mean, somebody might wantto report a serious crime at any minute, mightn’t they?”
“Exactly,” said Luke.
For a moment the old lady relapsed into silence. She looked worried.
“I always think it’s better to go right to the fountainhead,” she said atlast. “John Reed is quite a nice fellow—that’s our constable30 in Wychwood—a very civil-spoken, pleasant man—but I don’t feel, you know—that hewould be quite the person to deal with anything serious. He’s quite used todealing with people who’ve drunk too much, or with exceeding the speedlimit, or lighting-up time—or people who haven’t taken out a dog licence—and perhaps with burglary even. But I don’t think—I’m quite sure—heisn’t the person to deal with murder!”
Luke’s eyebrows31 rose.
“Murder?”
The old lady nodded vigorously.
“Yes, murder. You’re surprised, I can see. I was myself at first…I reallycouldn’t believe it. I thought I must be imagining things.”
“Are you quite sure you weren’t?” Luke asked gently.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head positively32. “I might have been the firsttime, but not the second, or the third or the fourth. After that one knows.”
Luke said:
“Do you mean there have been—er—several murders?”
The quiet gentle voice replied:
“A good many, I’m afraid.”
She went on:
“That’s why I thought it would be best to go straight to Scotland Yardand tell them about it. Don’t you think that’s the best thing to do?”
Luke looked at her thoughtfully, then he said:
“Why, yes—I think you’re quite right.”
He thought to himself:
“They’ll know how to deal with her. Probably get half a dozen old ladiesa week coming in burbling about the amount of murders committed intheir nice quiet country villages! There may be a special department fordealing with the old dears.”
And he saw in imagination a fatherly superintendent33, or a good-lookingyoung inspector34, tactfully murmuring:
“Thank you, ma’am, very grateful to you, I’m sure. Now just go back andleave it all in our hands and don’t worry anymore about it.”
He smiled a little to himself at the picture. He thought:
“I wonder why they get these fancies? Deadly dull lives, I suppose—anunacknowledged craving35 for drama. Some old ladies, so I’ve heard, fancyeveryone is poisoning their food.”
He was roused from these meditations36 by the thin, gentle voice continu-ing:
“You know, I remember reading once—I think it was the Abercrombiecase—of course he’d poisoned quite a lot of people before any suspicionwas aroused—what was I saying? Oh, yes, somebody said that there was alook—a special look that he gave anyone—and then very shortly after-wards that person would be taken ill. I didn’t really believe that when Iread about it—but it’s true!”
“What’s true?”
“The look on a person’s face….”
Luke stared at her. She was trembling a little, and her nice pink cheekshad lost some of their colour.
“I saw it first with Amy Gibbs—and she died. And then it was Carter.
And Tommy Pierce. But now—yesterday—it was Dr. Humbleby—and he’ssuch a good man—a really good man. Carter, of course, drank, and TommyPierce was a dreadfully cheeky impertinent little boy, and bullied37 the tinyboys, twisting their arms and pinching them. I didn’t feel quite so badlyabout them, but Dr. Humbleby’s different. He must be saved. And the ter-rible thing is that if I went to him and told him about it he wouldn’t be-lieve me! He’d only laugh! And John Reed wouldn’t believe me either. Butat Scotland Yard it will be different. Because, naturally, they’re used tocrime there!”
She glanced out of the window.
“Oh, dear, we shall be in in a minute.” She fussed a little, opening andshutting her bag, collecting her umbrella.
“Thank you—thank you so much.” This to Luke as he picked the um-brella up for the second time. “It’s been such a relief talking to you—mostkind of you, I’m sure—so glad you think I’m doing the right thing.”
Luke said kindly38:
“I’m sure they’ll give you good advice at Scotland Yard.”
“I really am most grateful.” She fumbled39 in her bag. “My card—oh, dear,I only have one—I must keep that—for Scotland Yard—”
“Of course, of course—”
“But my name is Pinkerton.”
“Very suitable name, too, Miss Pinkerton,” said Luke, smiling, addinghastily as she looked a little bewildered, “My name is Luke Fitzwilliam.”
As the train drew in to the platform he added:
“Can I get you a taxi?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” Miss Pinkerton seemed quite shocked at the idea. “Ishall take the tube. That will take me to Trafalgar Square, and I shall walkdown Whitehall.”
“Well, good luck,” said Luke.
Miss Pinkerton shook him warmly by the hand.
“So kind,” she murmured again. “You know, just at first I thought youdidn’t believe me.”
Luke had the grace to blush.
“Well,” he said. “So many murders! Rather hard to do a lot of murdersand get away with it, eh?”
Miss Pinkerton shook her head.
She said earnestly:
“No, no, my dear boy, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s very easy to kill—so long as no one suspects you. And you see, the person in question is justthe last person anyone would suspect!”
“Well, anyway, good luck,” said Luke.
Miss Pinkerton was swallowed up in the crowd. He himself went off insearch of his luggage, thinking as he did so:
“Just a little bit batty? No, I don’t think so. A vivid imagination, that’s all.
Hope they let her down lightly. Rather an old dear.”
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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retired
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grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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averted
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perusal
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clarion
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entirely
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drawn
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racing
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incensed
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austerely
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writ
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forth
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reassured
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fenny
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junction
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backwards
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antiquated
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puffing
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rattle
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scrutinized
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smoker
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blessing
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dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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inquisitive
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shortcut
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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cosy
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constable
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eyebrows
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positively
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superintendent
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inspector
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craving
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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bullied
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kindly
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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