chapter 27 concerning pince-nez

a minute later his mood had changed. he sprang to his feet.

i also sprang to mine – completely uncomprehending but willing.

‘we will take a taxi. it is only nine o’clock. not too late to make a visit.’

i hurried after him down the stairs.

‘whom are we going to visit?’

‘we are going to regent gate.’

i judged it wisest to hold my peace. poirot, i saw, was not in the mood for being questioned. that he was greatly excited i could see. as we sat side by side in the taxi his fingers drummed on his knees with a nervous impatience most unlike his usual calm.

i went over in my mind every word of carlotta adams’ letter to her sister. by this time i almost knew it by heart. i repeated again and again to myself poirot’s words about the torn page.

but it was no good. as far as i was concerned, poirot’s words simply did not make sense. why had a page got to be torn. no, i could not see it.

a new butler opened the door to us at regent gate. poirot asked for miss carroll, and as we followed the butler up the stairs i wondered for the fiftieth time where the former ‘greek god’ could be. so far the police had failed utterly to run him to earth. a sudden shiver passed over me as i reflected that perhaps he, too, was dead . . .

the sight of miss carroll, brisk and neat and eminently sane, recalled me from these fantastic speculations. she was clearly very much surprised to see poirot.

‘i am glad to find you still here, mademoiselle,’ said poirot as he bowed over her hand. ‘i was afraid you might be no longer in the house.’

‘geraldine would not hear of my leaving,’ said miss carroll. ‘she begged me to stay on. and really, at a time like this, the poor child needs someone. if she needs nothing else, she needs a buffer. and i can assure you, when need be, i make a very efficient buffer, m. poirot.’

her mouth took on a grim line. i felt that she would have a short way with reporters or news hunters.

‘mademoiselle, you have always seemed to me the pattern of efficiency. the efficiency, i admire it very much. it is rare. mademoiselle marsh no, she has not got the practical mind.’

‘she’s a dreamer,’ said miss carroll. ‘completely impractical. always has been. lucky she hasn’t got her living to get.’

‘yes, indeed.’

‘but i don’t suppose you came here to talk about people being practical or impractical. what can i do for you, m. poirot?’

i do not think poirot quite liked to be recalled to the point in this fashion. he was somewhat addicted to the oblique approach. with miss carroll, however, such a thing was not practicable. she blinked at him suspiciously through her strong glasses.

‘there are a few points on which i should like definite information. i know i can trust your memory, miss carroll.’

‘i wouldn’t be much use as a secretary if you couldn’t,’ said miss carroll grimly.

‘was lord edgware in paris last november?’

‘yes.’

‘can you tell me the date of his visit?’

‘i shall have to look it up.’

she rose, unlocked a drawer, took out a small bound book, turned the pages and finally announced:

‘lord edgware went to paris on november 3rd and returned on the 7th. he also went over on november 20th and returned on december 4th. anything more?’

‘yes. for what purpose did he go?’

‘on the first occasion he went to see some statuettes which he thought of purchasing and which were to be auctioned later. on the second occasion he had no definite purpose in view so far as i know.’

‘did mademoiselle marsh accompany her father on either occasion?’

‘she never accompanied her father on any occasion, m. poirot. lord edgware would never have dreamed of such a thing. at that time she was at a convent in paris, but i do not think her father went to see her or took her out – at least it would surprise me very much if he had.’

‘you yourself did not accompany him?’

‘no.’

she looked at him curiously and then said abruptly: ‘why are you asking me these questions, m. poirot? what is the point of them?’

poirot did not reply to this question. instead he said:

‘miss marsh is very fond of her cousin, is she not?’

‘really, m. poirot, i don’t see what that has got to do with you.’

‘she came to see me the other day! you knew that?’

‘no, i did not.’ she seemed startled. ‘what did she say?’

‘she told me – though not in actual words – that she was very fond of her cousin.’

‘well, then, why ask me?’

‘because i seek your opinion.’

this time miss carroll decided to answer. ‘much too fond of him in my opinion. always has been.’

‘you do not like the present lord edgware?’

‘i don’t say that. i’ve no use for him, that’s all. he’s not serious. i don’t deny he’s got a pleasant way with him. he can talk you round. but i’d rather see geraldine getting interested in someone with a little more backbone.’

‘such as the duke of merton?’

‘i don’t know the duke. at any rate, he seems to take the duties of his position seriously. but he’s running after that woman – that precious jane wilkinson.’

‘his mother –’

‘oh! i dare say his mother would prefer him to marry geraldine. but what can mothers do? sons never want to marry the girls their mothers want them to marry.’

‘do you think that miss marsh’s cousin cares for her?’

‘doesn’t matter whether he does or doesn’t in the position he’s in.’

‘you think, then, that he will be condemned?’

‘no, i don’t. i don’t think he did it.’

‘but he might be condemned all the same?’

miss carroll did not reply. ‘i must not detain you.’ poirot rose. ‘by the way, did you know carlotta adams?’

‘i saw her act. very clever.’

‘yes, she was clever.’ he seemed lost in meditation. ‘ah! i have put down my gloves.’

reaching forward to get them from the table where he had laid them, his cuff caught the chain of miss carroll’s pince-nez and jerked them off. poirot retrieved them and the gloves which he had dropped, uttering confused apologies.

‘i must apologize also once more for disturbing you,’ he ended. ‘but i fancied there might be some clue in a dispute lord edgware had with someone last year. hence my questions about paris. a forlorn hope, i fear, but mademoiselle seemed so very positive it was not her cousin who committed the crime. remarkably positive she was. well, goodnight, mademoiselle, and a thousand pardons for disturbing you.’

we had reached the door when miss carroll’s voice recalled us.

‘m. poirot, these aren’t my glasses. i can’t see through them.’

‘comment?’ poirot stared at her in amazement. then his face broke up into smiles.

‘imbecile that i am! my own glasses fell out of my pocket as i stooped to get the gloves and pick up yours. i have mixed the two pairs. they look very alike, you see.’

an exchange was made, with smiles on both sides, and we took our departure.

‘poirot,’ i said when we were outside. ‘you don’t wear glasses.’

he beamed at me.

‘penetrating! how quickly you see the point.’

‘those were the pince-nez i found in carlotta adams’ handbag?’

‘correct.’

‘why did you think they might be miss carroll’s?’

poirot shrugged his shoulders. ‘she is the only person connected with the case who wears glasses.’

‘however, they are not hers,’ i said thoughtfully. ‘so she affirms.’

‘you suspicious old devil.’

‘not at all, not at all. probably she spoke the truth. i think she did speak the truth. otherwise i doubt if she would have noticed the substitution. i did it very adroitly, my friend.’

we were strolling through the streets more or less at random. i suggested a taxi, but poirot shook his head.

‘i have need to think, my friend. walking aids me.’

i said no more. the night was a close one and i was in no hurry to return home.

‘were your questions about paris mere camouflage?’ i asked curiously.

‘not entirely.’

‘we still haven’t solved the mystery of the initial d,’ i said thoughtfully. ‘it’s odd that nobody to do with the case has an initial d – either surname or christian name – except – oh! yes, that’s odd – except donald ross himself. and he’s dead.’

‘yes,’ said poirot in a sombre voice. ‘he is dead.’

i remembered another evening when three of us had walked at night. remembered something else, too, and drew my breath in sharply.

‘by jove, poirot,’ i said. ‘do you remember?’

‘remember what, my friend?’

‘what ross said about thirteen at table. and he was the first to get up.’

poirot did not answer. i felt a little uncomfortable as one always does when superstition is proved justified.

‘it is queer,’ i said in a low voice. ‘you must admit it is queer.’

‘eh?’

‘i said it was queer – about ross and thirteen. poirot, what are you thinking about?’

to my utter amazement and, i must admit, somewhat to my disgust, poirot began suddenly to shake with laughter. he shook and he shook. something was evidently causing him the most exquisite mirth.

‘what the devil are you laughing at?’ i said sharply.

‘oh! oh! oh!’ gasped poirot. ‘it is nothing. it is that i think of a riddle i heard the other day. i will tell it to you. what is it that has two legs, feathers, and barks like a dog?’

‘a chicken, of course,’ i said wearily. ‘i knew that in the nursery.’

‘you are too well informed, hastings. you should say, “i do not know.” and then me, i say, “a chicken,” and then you say, “but a chicken does not bark like a dog,” and i say, “ah! i put that in to make it more difficult.” supposing, hastings, that there we have the explanation of the letter d?’

‘what nonsense!’

‘yes, to most people, but to a certain type of mind. oh! if i had only someone i could ask . . .’

we were passing a big cinema. people were streaming out of it discussing their own affairs, their servants, their friends of the opposite sex, and just occasionally, the picture they had just seen.

with a group of them we crossed the euston road.

‘i loved it,’ a girl was sighing. ‘i think bryan martin’s just wonderful. i never miss any picture he’s in. the way he rode down the cliff and got there in time with the papers.’

her escort was less enthusiastic.

‘idiotic story. if they’d just had the sense to ask ellis right away. which anyone worth sense would have done –’

the rest was lost. reaching the pavement i turned back to see poirot standing in the middle of the road with buses bearing down on him from either side. instinctively i put my hands over my eyes. there was a jarring of brakes, and some rich bus driver language. in a dignified manner poirot walked to the kerb. he looked like a man walking in his sleep.

‘poirot,’ i said, ‘were you mad?’

‘no, mon ami. it was just that – something came to me. there, at that moment.’

‘a damned bad moment,’ i said. ‘and very nearly your last one.’

‘no matter. ah, mon ami – i have been blind, deaf, insensible. now i see the answers to all those questions – yes, all five of them. yes – i see it all . . . so simple, so childishly simple . . .’

第二十七章 关于夹鼻眼镜

过了一会，他的心情改变了。他忽然站起来，我也站了起来——不知为什么，但很心甘情愿的。

“我们要叫辆出租车。现在才九点，现在去拜访一个人并不晚。”

我和他匆匆地下了楼。

“我们要去拜访谁？”

“我们是去摄政门。”

我认为最好还是不要多问。我看得出，波洛并没有心思回答问题。我明白他很兴奋。我们并肩坐在出租车里，他的手指敲着膝盖，那种急躁、不安与他平时镇定的态度迎然不同。

我又想起卡洛塔·亚当斯在写给她妹妹信中的每一个字。现在我已经用心记住其中的每句话了。我一遍又一遍地对自己重复波洛所说的撕去一页的话。

但是毫无用处。就我而言，波洛的话毫无意义。为什么会有一页被撕掉呢？我不明白。

到了摄政门，一个新管家给我们开门。波洛说要见卡罗尔小姐。当我们随管家上楼梯时，不知出现过多少次的疑问又浮在脑中，长得如希腊神像的管家跑到哪儿去了。目前为止，警方还未发现他的踪迹。我突然打了个寒战，因为我想也许他已经死了。

一见到那个行动敏捷、稳健、整洁的卡罗尔小姐，我才从荒诞的幻想中回过神来。她看到波洛很惊讶。

“女士，我很高兴在这儿见到您。”波洛鞠躬行吻手礼，“我还以为您也许不在这儿了呢。”

“杰拉尔丁说什么也不让我走。”卡罗尔小姐说，“她求我待在这里。确实，在这个时候，可怜的孩子需要人照顾。她现在最需要的是一个会安慰的人。波洛先生，我敢向您保证，在需要的时候，我会是个很好的安慰者。”

她嘴上露出一种冷冷的表情。我觉得她有办法对付记者和猎取新闻的人。

“女士。在我看来，您是效率的代表。效率，我很崇拜它。它是很稀有的。马什小姐没有，她是没有现实头脑的人。”

“她是一个梦幻家，一点也不实际。她向来如此。幸亏她不需要靠自己谋生。”

“是的，确实。”

“但是，我想您来这儿不是谈人现实不现实的。波洛先生。我能为您做什么？”

我想波洛大概不十分喜欢别人用这种方式提醒他要说的话。他好像已经习惯用转弯抹角的方式谈话。但是，对于卡罗尔小姐而论，这种方式是不实际的。她透过高度的近视眼镜，向波洛疑心地眨着眼。

“我有几点问题想请您确定一下。卡罗尔小姐，我知道您的记忆力是靠得住的。”

“否则，我当什么秘书。”卡罗尔小姐冷冷地说。

“去年十一月，埃奇韦尔男爵在巴黎吗？”

“是的。”

“您能告诉我他去巴黎的日期吗？”

“那我得查一查。”

她站起身来，打开抽屉的锁，拿出一本小册子，翻阅一番，最后说；

“埃奇韦尔男爵在十一月三曰去的巴黎，七日回来的。他在十一月二十日又去了一趟，十二月四日回来的。还有什么吗？”

“是的，他去的目的是什么？”

“第一次，他是去看几件雕像，因为这些雕像会在拍卖会上被拍卖，而他想买。第二次，就我所知，他没有什么固定的目的。”

“这两次，马什小姐没有陪她父亲去吗？”

“她从未陪她父亲去过，波洛先生。埃奇韦尔先生从未这么想过。其实，当时她是在巴黎的一家修道院里，但我想她的父亲不会去将她领出来的——至少是如果他这么做了，我会感到非常奇怪的。”

“您自己也没陪他去？”

“没有。”

她好奇地望着他，突然问道，

“波洛先生，您为什么问我这些问题？您目的何在？”

波洛没有回答这个问题。却问道。

“马什小姐很喜欢她的堂哥，是吗？”

“波洛先生，我不明白，难道这与您有什么关系吗？”

“她前几天来过我那儿！您知道吗？”

“不，我不知道。”她似乎很惊讶，“她说了什么？”

“她对我讲——尽管这实际上不是她的原话——她相喜欢他的堂哥。”

“晤，那么，为什么问我呢？”

“因为我要征求您的意见。”

这一次，卡罗尔小姐决定回答。

“要我看是非常喜欢。一直是那样。”

“您不喜欢现任埃奇韦尔男爵？”

“我不能那么说。我不习惯他这个人。就是这样。他不认真。不过我不否认他挺讨人喜欢的。他能花言巧语骗住你。我倒希望杰拉尔丁对一个有骨气的人感兴趣。”

“比如默顿公爵？”

“我不认识默顿公爵。不过，无论怎样，他似乎对自己的身份职责看得很认真。但是他正追那个女人——那个宝贝的简·威尔金森。”

“他的母亲——”

“噢！我敢说他的母亲是愿意他娶杰拉尔丁。但母亲又能怎么做呢？儿子总是不愿意娶母亲想让他们娶的女孩。”

“您认为马什小姐的堂兄喜欢她吗？”

“就他现在的处境，喜欢不喜欢没什么关系。”

“那么，您认为他会被判刑吗？”

“不，我不这样认为。我认为不是他杀的。”

“但他还是会被判刑？”

卡罗尔小姐没有回答。

“我不能再耽搁您的时间了。”波洛站起来说，“顺便问一下，您认识卡洛塔·亚当斯吗？”

“我看过她的表演。非常聪明的。”

“是的，她很聪明。”他似乎又陷入沉思。“啊！我将手套放在桌上了。”

他伸手从桌子上拿手套的时候，他的袖口挂住了卡罗尔小姐的夹鼻眼镜的链子，一下子把眼镜碰掉了。波洛将掉到地上的眼镜和手套拾起。连连道歉。

“我再一次抱歉，给您添麻烦了。”他说，“可我还以为会找到一些去年埃奇韦尔男爵与人争执的线索呢。所以我询问巴黎的问题。我恐怕这是不成立的。但是杰拉尔丁似乎很肯定不是她的堂兄杀的人。她相当肯定。好吧，女士，晚安。再一次抱歉，真是打扰您了。”

我们走到门口，卡罗尔小姐的声音又把我们叫住了。

“波洛先生，这不是我的限镜。我戴上看不清东西。”

“怎么？”波洛吃惊地盯着她。然后他脸上露出了笑容。

“我真笨！我弯腰拾手套时，将自己的眼镜掉了，后来拾起了您的，结果把两副眼镜弄混了。您看，这两副有多像。”

双方将眼镜换过来后，面带笑容地互相告辞了。

“波洛，”我们出去后，我说道，“你根本不戴眼镜的。”

他对我笑笑。

“好厉害！你很快就看出来了。”

“那是在卡洛塔·亚当斯手提袋里的眼镜。”

“对啊。”

“你为什么认为那可能是卡罗尔小姐的？”

波洛耸耸肩膀。

“她是与本案有关人士中惟一戴眼镜的。”

“但眼镜不是她的。”我思索着说。

“她这么说的。”

“你这个多疑的家伙。”

“一点不是。一点也不是。也许她说的是真的。我认为她是在说实话。否则，她也许发现不出是换过的眼镜。我的朋友，我的手法是很机灵的。”

我们在街上有些漫无目的地踱着。我建议叫一辆出租车，但是波洛摇头反对。

“我需要思考，我的朋友，步行能有助于我思考。”

我不再说什么了。那个夜晚很闷，我也不急着回家。

“你说巴黎的问题只是伪装吧？”我好奇地问道。

“也不全是。”

“我们还没有找出首写字母是d这谜团的答案。”我思考着说，“奇怪，与案子有关的人首写字母。无论是姓，还是教名，都没有是d的。除了，噢！是的，除了唐纳德。罗斯本人。但他死了。

“是的。”波洛低沉着声昔说，“他已经死了。”

我忽然想起另外一个傍晚，我们三个人一起走。同时，我又想起一件事来，不觉倒吸了一口凉气。

“天哪！波洛，”，我说，“你记得吗？”

“记得什么？我的朋友。”

“记得罗斯提到十三个人在宴会上吗？他是第一个站起离席的。”

波洛没有日答。我如常人一样，当迷信应验时，觉得很不安。

“真是奇怪”，我低低的声音说，“你不得不承认这很奇怪。”

“呃？”

“我说这件事很奇怪——关于罗斯，还有十三。波洛，你在想什么？”

让我惊讶，同时我得承认也让我觉得讨厌的是，波洛捧腹大笑，久久不停。一定是什么事让他觉得相当好笑。

“你到底笑什么？”我尖声地问。

“噢！噢！噢！”波洛喘着气说，“没什么。我想起了前几天听到的一个谜。我来给你讲。什么东西两条腿，一身毛，叫起来像狗？”

“当然是鸡了。”我厌倦地说，“我小时候就知道。”

“黑斯廷斯，你知道得太多了。你应该说‘我不知道。’然后我说，‘是鸡。’那么，你再说，‘但是鸡不是像狗一样叫的。’最后我说，‘啊！我加上这一句是想把谜语变得更难些。’黑斯廷斯，假如说那个d字的解释就是如此，你感想如何？”

“真无聊！”

“是啊，对于大多数人而言，这似乎是无聊的。但是对于有头脑的人可不是。噢！如果我可以问一个人——”

我们经过了一个大电影院。观众如潮水般涌了出来，谈论着自己的事情——仆人，异性朋友，偶尔还会说说刚刚看过的片子。

我们同部分观众一同走过尤斯路。

“我喜欢这个片子。”一个女孩感叹着，“我认为布赖恩·马丁棒极了。他演的片子，我一个也没错过。他骑马奔下悬崖，及时送到文件，真棒。”

她的同伴不如她那样激动。

“多傻的电影。假若他们有点脑子，马上去问问埃利斯不就解决问题了吗？其实任何有常识的人都会——”

其余的话就听不见了。我走到人行道上，回头看见波洛站在马路中央。两头都有公共汽车向他开过来。我本能地用手捂住了眼睛。只听见刹车声和司机的咒骂声。波洛却一本正经地走到人行道上的镰边石上，他简直像个梦游者。

“波洛”，我说道，“你疯了吗？”

“没有，我的朋友。只是——我突然想起一件事。就在那，突然的一刹那。”

“那可怕的一刹那。啊！我的朋友——我一直是又聋、又瞎、又麻木。现在我可以解答全部问题了。是的。那五个问题。是的一—我明白了……如此简卑。如此幼稚而简单。”