Chapter 2 The Orderly Life of Mr Aberby
Aberby is a well-groomed little man with rimless glasses and hair parted in the middle.He will tell you with satisfaction that there has never been a possibility of chaos in his well-ordered life.Therefore, when he decided that he should sort out effective and good methods and apply them comprehensively to deal with his wife, he naturally knew where to look.
On the shelves of a used bookstore, he found a book on forensic science.There are many books of the same subject on the shelf, but they are all tattered, with the edges as if chewed by a dog - this is his Achilles' heel - so he chose this one, at least the damage is within the acceptable range .After careful research, he found that most of the cases listed in the book are horrific analyzes (with vivid illustrations) of crimes committed by lunatics and sexual perverts.These, of course, arouse the infinite associations of normal people-how many demons live in this world.However, there was one case that seemed to appeal to him, so he conducted an in-depth study.
This case is about Mrs. X (the whole book is Mrs. X, Mr. Y or Miss Z) who fell on her rug and died.It seemed like an accident, but a lawyer suggested that among the relatives of the deceased, someone accused the husband of the deceased of premeditated murder, and the subsequent forensic examination also proved his crime.However, the complaint was eventually terminated due to the sudden death of the defendant from a heart attack.
It stands to reason that such a result should disappoint Mr. Aberby, because he is eager to possess his wife's property immediately at this time, which is surprisingly similar to Mr. X's motivation inferred in the book.But Mr. Aberby paid more attention to the details in this case.According to Mr. X, Mrs. X was about to bring him a glass of water when the rug under his feet - as happens with all rugs - suddenly slipped.
Instead, the indomitable prosecution attorney produced a forensic release that clearly demonstrated through a plethora of diagrams (which were generously presented in the books) that as long as the husband performed a child's trick while reaching for a water glass— —putting one hand under the wife's shoulders, the other around her neck, and a sudden push—can create exactly the same horror as tripping over a rug, without leaving a bit of it Traces of the crime committed by the child.
It must be stated here that Mr. Aberby's tireless study of these diagrams and explanations was not in the hope of satisfying the greed of the insatiable man in the book.For the money, of course, but that money will be used to protect a sacred area, which is his store: Aberby's Antiques and Curiosities.
This store is the sun in Aberby's life.He bought it twenty years ago with a small estate left by his father.Even at the best of times it just helps him stay poor, and at the worst - and basically all the time - he has to turn to his mother who also runs a poor little shop .But his mother is a woman who loves money like cutting flesh, so for this store, the mother and son had more than one protracted battle, but he was the one who won in the end-this is also because, in all fairness, to his mother, Ai Bobby was like the store in his eyes.
This disharmonious triangular camp was finally broken because of his mother's death.It was only then that Mr. Aberby discovered that his mother played a far more important role in his well-ordered little world than he had previously believed.This is not only because of her financial support from time to time, but also because of her contribution to his personal habits.
His diet was bland and fussy, but his mother always prepared the perfect meal for him.The slightest thing in the room was out of order and he would get extremely nervous, but his mother was always hanging around the house to distract him.So the death of his mother created a huge hole in his life that disturbed him.He thought hard about how to fill this vacancy, finally thought of marriage, and immediately put it into action.
His wife is a woman with pale skin and thin lips. She looks and moves very much like his mother. Sometimes when his wife walks into the room, he even has the illusion of going back in time because they look so similar.There was only one thing that made him very disappointed in her: she could not understand the importance of the store to him, and his feelings for the store.Aberby first realized this when he asked for a small loan to cover some operating expenses.
Before Mrs. Abberby got married, she was as listless as a vine that was about to wither, but this hard-won marriage did not bring her back to her youth.In fact, sometimes under the calm appearance, her face would flush because of the small thoughts of some women, but she would be seen through by his sad eyes sunken deep in the sockets.They agreed with each other that during the period of mourning, their inner feelings should be carefully buried under the appearance of decency.But soon after the marriage she realized that he had buried his feelings so deeply that she might never be able to dig them out.At this point, she shrugged and decided to ignore it and start cooking delicious food for him.To her, Aberby's curios and treasures shop was like an empty shell that couldn't produce pearls.
She investigated wisely, and announced her new discovery to Mr. Aberby with a touch of excitement.
"Antiques!" she screamed. "Antiques. Your entire collection is a pile of worthless junk. Worthless and just gathering dust!"
What she didn't understand was that from an ordinary person's or commercial point of view, those things were really worthless.But, to Mr. Aberby, they are everything.The reason for this store stems from his fanatical interest in collecting, sorting, labeling and preserving since he was a child.He collects everything he can get his hands on.The value of each item in this store is proportional to the time he has owned the item, the longer the time, the higher the value.He did not discriminate against cracked imitation Sevres china, shoddy fake Chippendale furniture, or even a rusty saber.Everything is in its place, and Mr. Aberby is very concerned about this, and the display location of each collection will never change.Strangest of all, whenever an item was sold--a rare occasion--he manifested genuine anguish.Some customers were not sure about the actual value of the product, but just by looking at his painful appearance, they would think that they had picked up a great bargain.Fortunately, none of the customers knew that the cause of Mr. Aberby's pain and his five sense organs was not caused by the feeling of reluctance to give up his love, but the gaps left on the shelves after the products were sold--the gaps broke the original Order created chaos.
And just like that, Mrs. Aberby, unable to comprehend all this, issued a grim statement. "Wait until I'm dead before you try to think about my little money," she said, "and only when I'm dead."
She inadvertently sentenced herself to death.As an unqualified "Ms. Aberby", she can only wait for Mr. Aberby to execute the death sentence for her.When that moment came, Mr. Aberby practiced the methods described in that invaluable book, down to the last detail.It happened quickly, and apart from a few splashes on the trousers, everything was done cleanly.The doctor who came to examine it growled that more people were killed by this rug than by drunk driving; the police officer in charge of the incident offered to help arrange the funeral; and then, the matter passed.
It was all too easy--there was no drama at all--until a week later, a decent lawyer came, and after a sympathetic exchange of pleasantries, announced the amount of his wife's estate.Only then did Mr. Aberby suddenly realize that an incomparable new world was unfolding before his eyes.
Reason has always been higher than emotion, and Mr. Aberby is just a cautious person.After all his wife's property was liquidated, Aberby moved his store to another place, far away from the original store location.Then after the sudden death of the second Mrs. Appleby, there was another move, and now the sixth Mrs. has also passed away. The store relocation is only part of this huge project.
Because they are so similar - pale complexion, thin figure, thin lips, good at cooking, in order to facilitate memory and satisfy his paranoid personality in storage, the well-organized Mr. Aberby simply referred to all the late wives as "one" .He judged them by only one thing: the amount of money in the bank account.On that basis, he gave the first two Mrs. Applebys four stars; the third three (that was an unpleasant surprise); and the remaining three five stars.No matter who looks at these properties, they are astronomical figures, but every time they will be consumed by the hungry "Abbey's Antiques and Curiosities Store", just like a small fly being bitten by a hungry monitor lizard. Like to swallow.Mr. Aberby found that not long after burying his sixth wife, he fell into a dire economic crisis.Under such circumstances, Alberto realized desperately that although he wanted to find another five-star lady, he had to give in and quickly find a four-star lady to get out of the predicament.Just at this time, Martha Sturgess broke into his life.After only talking to her for fifteen minutes, Aberby cleared all the four-star and five-star thoughts from his mind.
Martha Sturgess, looks worth six stars.
Not only in terms of property, but her appearance also broke the inherent pattern of Mrs. Aberby.Completely different from the previous ones, Martha Sturgess is a strong woman with no figure at all, and her whole person, including her clothes and manners, can be called (Mr. Aberby visibly trembled when he thought of this word ) sloppy.
Perhaps a proper make-up, hairdo, corset, and matching outfit could make her look radiant.Everything Martha Sturgess sends out, though, suggests that she is a woman of her own and dismisses such advice.Her hair was dyed a horrible orange-red color, and it was casually covered on her head; her big fleshy face was heavily powdered, and the smearing made her face look fatter; her clothes looked worn. They were comfortable, but too flashy; her shoes looked comfortable, too, but had several marks from wear and neglect.
However, Martha Sturgess, who is the protagonist, is unaware of these.She strode through "Aberby's Antiques and Treasures," as if with an energy that made all the objects that were there dance in place; Mr. Aberby was coughing violently while waving his hands in front of his nose; at the same time, she was talking loudly without stopping, her voice was thick and hoarse, but her tone was high and high-pitched, chattering about strange things. topic of.
During the first fourteen minutes of the conversation, Mr. Aberby had been terribly disgusted with her until a behavior of hers caught his attention.She valued each item: scrutinizing it, appraising it, comparing details, and walking away with a look of disgust.Mr. Aberby followed her all the way, more and more determined to get the woman out before he could do himself a disservice, or before his patience ran out.Then, at the fifteenth minute, she said that.
"I have half a billion in the bank," Martha Sturgess continued, expressing her disdain fully in a cheerful tone, "but I'm not going to spend a dime on this pile of rubbish."
At this moment Mr. Aberby was raising a hand, ready to fan the smoke that was about to engulf him from his face.For a moment, his hand hangs down feebly, and his mind is completely attracted by that scary number.He only spared a little attention to pay attention to the important finger on her left hand, which was not wearing a ring; the rest of his thoughts were used to calculate short-term bills, long-term bills and interest rates.
There is another change worth mentioning, that is, Martha Sturgess' rough appearance and harsh voice have produced subtle changes in Aberby's eyes.After hearing that sentence, most men look at her like looking at flowers in a fog, hazy and beautiful.Mr. Aberby wouldn't lie to himself like that, he was just happy to have the burden off his shoulders.Martha Sturgess was not only a solution to important financial problems, but also a special way for a man to escape the boring society.
Because of this, he turned to look at her, his eyes were brighter than before, and added a bit of melancholy.He said: "It's a pity, madam..."
She said her name, emphatically "ma'am," and Mr. Aberby smiled apologetically.
"Of course. As I said earlier, it would be a pity for someone who is elegant and intellectual - the subtext 'someone like you' is already very obvious - not to appreciate the joy of collecting these fine works of art. But, as the saying goes, it's never too late to start, right?"
Martha Sturgess stared at him sharply, then laughed heartily.Roaring laughter stung his eardrums.For a moment, Mr. Aberby, usually a man with a bad sense of humor, wondered gloomily if he had accidentally said something so outrageous that it elicited such a horrific reaction.
"My dear sir," said Martha Sturgess, "if you think I come to your store for the pleasure of art, I advise you to die. I have come to buy a present Sending someone who hates me, pisses me off, is insensitive, rigid like a dumb fish from start to finish. I can't think of a better way to give it to her than to pick one from your store To express my opinion of her. If possible, I would also like you to deliver it to my door, so that I can see her open the gift with my own eyes."
After hearing these words, Mr. Aberby's mind was a little confused for a moment.However, he immediately adjusted his state, and said neither humble nor overbearing: "I can't do this kind of thing, absolutely can't do it."
"Wicked," said Martha Sturgess, "if you can't arrange a delivery, I can do it myself. You should understand that there is no point in doing such a thing without seeing her reaction firsthand." gone."
Mr. Aberby struggled to contain his temper. "I'm not referring to the delivery thing," he said. "I just want to be clear, I don't allow people to come to my store and buy things out of this mentality. I don't care how much you pay."
Martha Sturgess' heavy chin drooped, and she asked stiffly, "What did you say?"
Mr. Aberby knew that this moment was extremely dangerous.His next words would likely lead to another burst of manic laughter, roaring to drown him out; or worse, her turning and walking away, never to return; or, finishing her off on the spot.This moment cannot be avoided, and the more Mr. Aberby thinks about it, the more desperate he becomes.Anyway, at least Martha Sturgess was a woman.
He took a deep breath, and then said calmly: "This is the principle of this store. Unless the customer can appreciate the artwork he is going to buy home and promises to take care of it with all his heart, otherwise I will never sell it. The store has been open since its opening. Since then, I have been following this principle, and as long as I am here, I will continue to follow this principle. Any behavior that violates this principle will be regarded as an insult and a stain on me."
After speaking, he held his breath and looked at Martha Sturgess.The latter slumped into the chair next to her, so that the skirt was pulled up to wrap tightly around her fat thighs, revealing her hideous shoes.She lit another cigarette, squinting her eyes to study him through the flame of the match, and waved her hand to clear the smoke.
"Oh," she said, "that's interesting, and I'd like to hear exactly what's going on."
For an inexperienced person, inquiring about the privacy and personality of a stranger is undoubtedly a very complicated matter.But for Mr Aberby - someone whose interests depend on such information - it was a no-brainer.Not long ago, Martha Sturgess had just accurately stated the amount of her savings. She obviously lived alone, with no relatives, no very close friends, and no object to marry.
On the last point, Aberby had judged by her constant visits to the store lately, sitting comfortably in a chair, and chatting endlessly with him.She talks about her father most of the time, and it's clear that Alberto bears a striking resemblance to the father she speaks of.
"He even dresses like you," said Martha Sturgess thoughtfully, "and is very neat, and not only keeps himself tidy, but he goes through the room every day--in and out, Make sure everything is in the right place. He was doing this until he died. I remember an hour before he died, he was still arranging a painting on the wall."
Mr. Aberby, who had been staring secretly angrily at a slightly askew picture on the wall, reluctantly withdrew his attention.
"You stayed with him to the end?" he asked sympathetically.
"Indeed."
"Oh," said Aberby briskly, "a woman who makes such a sacrifice deserves something, doesn't she? Especially—I hope I don't embarrass you by saying this, Martha Sturgess Miss—a girl like you, the world thinks that you will definitely abandon your old father and devote yourself to married life. What do you think?"
Martha Sturgess sighed and said, "Maybe, but maybe not. I don't deny that I have a dream, but it's just a dream, and I think it may always be a dream."
"Why?" asked Mr. Aberby, encouragingly.
"Because," said Martha Sturgess melancholy, "I haven't met a man who can live up to those dreams. I'm not a hypocritical schoolgirl, Mr. Aberby, and frankly, I don't need to test men to the end. Loves me, or is it just my money. But he has to be a respectable, decent gentleman who wants to be with me every minute of the day, cares about me, and loves me. He also has to be able to awaken my memory of my late father memory."
Mr. Appleby put a hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Miss Sturgis," he said gravely, "you may have met this man already."
She looked at him, her face flushed with excitement, and she looked even uglier.
"Are you sure, Mr. Appleby?" she asked. "Do you really think so?"
Mr. Aberby smiled down at her, his eyes shining with affirmation. "He may be close at hand, but you dare not admit it." He said softly.
Previous experience has taught Aberby that once the ice is broken, the best thing to do is to take a deep breath and jump in.So, within a few days he proposed.
"Miss Sturgis," he said, "there comes a time when every single man can no longer stand alone, and if just then he is fortunate enough to meet a woman to whom she will give unreserved devotion and tenderness, Surely he's a really lucky man. I think I am, Miss Sturgis."
"Why, Mr. Abby!" Martha Sturgess's face was slightly flushed, "It's really good, but—"
Hearing this turning point, his heart sank, and he interrupted Martha Sturgis' words with a little hesitation. "Wait a minute! If you have any doubts, Miss Sturgis, please speak up, and I'll clear them up on the spot. Considering my mood, it will be fairer, won't it?"
"Oh, no problem." Martha Sturgess said, "Mr. Aberby, I don't want to marry a man who is not ready and can't give me the marriage I want. In that case, I would rather not have a husband in my life." Get married. My request is: for the rest of the day, he can devote himself wholeheartedly and completely."
"Miss Sturgis," said Mr. Aberby solemnly, "I am ready to do more for you."
"Men always say that kind of thing." She sighed. "But——I'll think it over, Mr. Aberby."
Waiting for an answer from a woman who doesn't play her cards according to common sense is a frustrating thing.A few days later, Mr. Aberby finally received a message, but it was arbitrarily asking him to go to "Old Gainsborough, Little Gainsborough and Golding Law Firm".In the days that were already gloomy and gloomy, a large cloud of dark clouds floated at this moment.At this moment, Aberby, who was being chased and intercepted by the group of creditors, only had the worst thoughts in his mind.However, when he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was not the creditors but Martha Sturgess waiting for him at the "Old Gainsborough, Little Gainsborough & Golding Law Firm", The joy is beyond words.
Old Gainsborough--apparently the heart and soul of the firm--was not tall but surprisingly fat, with sagging fat all over his body, his neck barely visible, his dull eyes staring Mr. Aberby.Little Gainsborough was a complete copy of his father, with a popular face.Golding, on the other hand, was a young man with a thin, angular face.
"This matter is very delicate." Old Gainsborough's eyes were like glass beads, staring at Mr. Aberby, "Miss Sturgess, our honored guest," heard little Gainsborough Siborough nodded, "I said that I will enter the palace of marriage with you, sir."
Abby sat carefully on the chair, and he was a little dizzy with a burst of joyful excitement when he heard this sentence. "Huh?" he said.
"Besides," continued old Gainsborough, "Miss Sturgis was able to accept suitors because she was attracted by her money—" He raised a short, stubby hand, interrupting Aberby. Mr. protested hastily, "and don't want to mention this matter—"
"Never mind that, go on," said little Gainsborough sharply.
"—is the suitor ready to accept all the demands of this marriage?"
"Ready," said Mr. Aberby eagerly.
"Mr. Appleby," asked old Gainsborough suddenly, "have you ever been married?"
Abby thought for a moment.Denial means burying one's past without saying a word about it; in such cases, admission seems the safest course, and a respectable marriage at that.
"It's over," he said.
"divorced?"
"My God, no!" Mr. Aberby was really frightened.
Gainsborough and his son looked at each other with satisfaction. "Very good," said old Gainsborough, "very good. The next question may be a bit rude. I wonder if you have any common vices nowadays?"
"I'm happy to answer such questions at times like this," said Mr. Aberby emphatically. "I'm the man who is the furthest from vice. What about smoking, drinking, and—that claw—"
"Promiscuous." Little Gainsborough said the word bluntly.
"Yes," said Mr. Aberby, blushing, "—not even close to me."
Old Gainsborough nodded. "If there is a vice," said he, "Miss Sturgis will not give it lightly. She will give you an answer within a month, and if you don't mind taking my old man's advice, the best time you can do it is during this time." Much to be courted. She's a woman, Mr. Appleby, and I think all women are alike."
"I think so too," said Mr. Aberby.
"Go all in," Gainsborough Jr. said, "and never change. That's the ticket to success."
The effect of this on Mr. Aberby is that he has to leave the store and even the whole world of order, and instead have to keep thinking about how to make the not very likable Martha Sturgess comfortable .Of course, this is only a temporary strategy.Once Martha Sturgess happily agrees to marry, and then enters the normal Mrs. Appleby "procedure", the strategy will pay off handsomely.But this woman is not very easy to deal with, even if you have a deep understanding of her, it is completely useless.Mr Aberby approached this with the mindset of a soon-to-be widower, so to speak, rather than a soon-to-be groom.Whenever Martha Sturgis delivered her lengthy marriage theory, he repeatedly tried to refute, but finally swallowed the words that came to his lips.
"I think," Martha Sturgess once said, "that a man who is divorced once is bound to get another divorce. Just look at any broken couple today. I bet any man who divorces It’s the kind of person who always goes shopping, but can never find something he likes. And the man I’m going to marry,” she pointed out, “must be someone who can settle down and settle down forever.”
"Of course," said Mr. Aberby.
"I've heard," Martha Sturgis said to Mr. Aberby solemnly on another occasion, "that a happy marriage adds years to a woman's life. Quite a neat point, don't you think?"
"Of course," said Mr. Aberby.
During this survey month, his utterances seemed to be limited to the word "of course," with various inflections.But the strategy worked, and at the end of the month he finally heard "I do" at a wedding in which the Gainsboroughs and Golding were the only guests.
After the wedding, Mr. Aberby (with great reluctance) and his new wife went to a wedding photoshoot, where they snapped countless photos under the watchful eye of a sullen Goldin.Mr. Aberby then (satisfactorily) exchanged wills with his wife, agreeing that upon his death she would inherit all property, belongings, etc., all.
If Mr. Aberby occasionally seemed absent-minded during these ceremonies, it was because his mind was figuring out how to proceed.The rug (the one that's done six previous feats) has to be in place first; then it's just waiting for the right moment to beg for a glass of water.Then he would put one hand on her shoulder and the other .Watching his wife holding the pen and signing the will, he decided to get it done in a few weeks.The will is already in hand, there is no need to procrastinate.
Before the weeks were over, however, Mr Aberby realized his previous plans would have to be drastically revised.No doubt it was because he wasn't ready and hadn't settled the marriage.
In short, her home (and now his) was a brownstone villa inherited from her mother.What a mess of a nightmare cave.In principle, there is no need to pick up randomly scattered things at all, because they will float out again after a while, and there is a surprising amount of garbage piled up in every room.There are a lot of things randomly stuffed in the cabinets and drawers, and they are full, let alone sorted. There is a layer of dust on the surface, and there may be paper scraps in it.and.To the fragile Mr. Aberby, it was like someone scratching a blackboard with his fingernails in his ear.
Mrs Aberby's one and only passion, cooking, has unfortunately become something her husband prays she would give up.When it was time to eat, she would walk heavily between the kitchen and the dining room countless times, holding one dish after another that Mr. Aberby had never seen before.
At the beginning, he protested a little, but his wife patiently chose the correct words, and made it clear that any criticism of her cooking skills would make her sad, even if there was a little too much left on a dish, she would be fine. It represents dissatisfaction and will make her sad.Since then, Mr Aberby has had to settle for less meaty, heavy dishes and a variety of thick pastries.This caused him chronic indigestion, which made his hard life worse.Even when he proves he's a big eater and loves her meals, his wife won't stop, laying out a pile of food-laden plates in front of him, stacked up to under his quivering nose, making him feel I am like a warrior who wants to fight a lion.At this point, Mr. Aberby is willing to give anything for a digestive system and a delicious and simple meal.
Eventually, this wish became his favorite dream.In his sleep he had just attended his wife's funeral, sipping hot tea, toast, and perhaps a soft-boiled egg in a restaurant.But even such a wonderful dream, with its wonderful ending—he started tidying his room—couldn't cheer him up.Because every day when he opens his eyes, the first thing he thinks of is the pile of dishes stacked under his nose.
With each passing day, his wife's demands on him -- her need for his attention -- grew more pressing.Until one day, she publicly reprimanded him for spending more time on the store than on her.Mr Aberby knew it was time for the ultimate plan.That evening, he took the rug home and carefully laid it in the hallway between the living room and the kitchen.Martha Appleby looked at him with no interest.
"It's a shabby old thing," she said. "What is it? Mr. Abby, is it an antique? Or something else?"
She was so pleased with calling him such an insulting name that she pretended not to see the way his face convulsed with rage every time he heard that name.At this moment, his face twitched again.
"It's not an antique," admitted Mr Aberby, "but I consider it a treasure for a variety of reasons. I have a lot of affection for it."
Mrs. Appleby gave him a gentle smile. "And you brought it to give it to me, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Mr. Aberby, "yes."
"It's very kind of you," said Mrs Appleby, "really."
Every time he watched her walk across the carpet with her shoes and go to the small table on the other side of the corridor to make a phone call, Mr. Aberby would relish playing with the little ideas in his head.He found that she had a fixed time to call every night, and she could arrange the accident at this time.The advantage of this was obvious: since this nightly call was the only routine she followed, she would surely walk across the rug at that point, and he would be able to work things out.
However, considering that what Mr. Aberby wants to accomplish is a perfect performance, one problem must be solved first, that is, how to approach her better in this situation.Of course, the idea just now and the method that has been tested in practice are both good, but if the two things of making a phone call and getting water happen at the same time...
"I bet you a dime, I know what you're thinking, Appleby," said Mrs. Appleby lightheartedly.At this point she had hung up the phone, walked through the corridor, and stood upright on the carpet.Mr. Aberby put on a fake face and looked at her.
"I hope," he grumbled disapprovingly, "that you don't call me that horrible name anymore, you know how much I hate it."
"Nonsense," my wife denied, "I think it's cute."
"I don't think so."
"Well, I like it anyway," said Mrs. Appleby firmly. "Anyway," she pouted, "you weren't thinking about it before I spoke, were you?"
Seeing the pouting of this burly and rough woman, Mr. Aberby froze for a moment.She is like a wax figure that has been burning for a while, and it is impossible to tell where it is from head to toe.He hurriedly drove this thought out of his mind, and turned to thinking about how to make up a reasonable answer.
"Same as before," he said, "I'm thinking about my indecent clothes. Need I remind you again, every single one of my clothes is unbuttoned."
Mrs. Appleby yawned boredly. "I'll sew it for you sometime."
"How about tomorrow?"
"I don't know," said Mrs. Appleby, turning to the stairs. "Go to bed, Abby, I'm exhausted."
Mr. Appleby followed her thoughtfully.Tomorrow, he will take a suit to the tailor shop to ensure that he will wear some when he attends the funeral.
He took the suit home and hung it neatly; he had finished dinner and was sitting in the living room listening to his wife's hoarse voice.Although the clock was not yet nine o'clock, she had been talking to him endlessly for hours.
Then, with growing excitement, he watched his wife rise slowly from her chair and walk across the room into the corridor.She had just reached for the receiver when Mr Aberby cleared his throat loudly. "If you don't mind," he said, "I'd like a glass of water."
Mrs. Appleby turned to look at him. "Want to drink water?"
"If you don't mind." Mr. Aberby waited there after speaking, she hesitated, then put down the phone and walked towards the kitchen.There was the sound of a glass being rinsed from the kitchen, and then Mrs Appleby came out with a glass of water.He put one hand carefully on her thick shoulder and raised the other as if to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “这就是发生在其他人身上的事吗？”艾伯比夫人平静地问。
艾伯比先生的手僵在半空，感到一阵寒意已钻入骨髓。“其他人？”他好不容易挤出一句话，“什么其他人？”
妻子咧开嘴巴冲他微笑，他看到她手中的水杯稳稳当当，里面的水一晃不晃。“其他那六个，”她说，“据我所知是六个。怎么，还有更多？”
“不，”他努力控制住自己，“我不知道你在说什么！”
“亲爱的艾破烂儿，你不能就这么把之前的六个老婆都忘了啊。除非你太在乎我了，因此不愿想起她们。要是这样的话，还真是一件美好的事情，是不是？”
“我结过婚，”艾伯比先生大声说道，“我之前就说得很清楚了。可你说什么六个老婆？！”
“你当然结过婚，艾破烂儿，而且很容易就能查出你是和谁结的——查出再上一任也同样容易——然后就是所有。甚至你母亲也很好调查，或者你是在哪里上的学，又或者你是在哪里出生。你也知道，艾破烂儿，盖因斯伯勒先生是个非常聪明的人。”
“这都是盖因斯伯勒瞎编的！”
“也不全是，你这个小傻瓜，”他的妻子傲慢地说道，“你每次构想那些计划时，我都在设法干涉你的思路。从看到你的那一刻起，我就知道你是个怎样的人了。是不是吓到你了？”
艾伯比先生试图让自己镇定一些，不要表现出大惊小怪的样子，就像捡起一根小草却以为握着条蛇。“你是怎么知道的？”他气喘吁吁地问道。
“因为你和我父亲简直是一个模子里刻出来的。方方面面——你的穿着，整洁得令人厌恶，你那一本正经、自大傲慢的样子，以及所剩无几的道德观念——你就是他那样的人。而他是我这辈子最憎恨的人，还有他对我母亲做过的事。他为了钱与她结婚，把她的每一天都变成噩梦，最后为了遗产杀死了她。”
“杀了她？”艾伯比先生呆若木鸡。
“哦，行了吧，”妻子冷酷地说道，“你以为这世上只有你一个男人能做出那样的事？没错，他杀死了她——谋杀，可能你更喜欢这个词——先问她要一杯水，然后等她把水拿来时弄断了她的脖子。手法和你用的惊人的相似，是不是？”
艾伯比先生的脑海中浮现出难以置信的答案，然而，他拒绝接受。“后来他怎么样了？”他追问道，“告诉我他怎么了！被抓了吗？”
“没有，他没被抓，案发时没有目击证人。不过，盖因斯伯勒先生曾经是我母亲的律师，也是她十分亲密的朋友，他对此保持怀疑，于是要求旁听审讯。他还带去了一位医生，那位医生当场证明了我父亲是如何杀死她，并把现场布置成她被地毯绊倒致死的样子。可是，判决还没下来，我父亲就因为突发心脏病死了。”
“就是那件案子——我读到的那件！”艾伯比先生呻吟道，然后安静地忍受妻子嘲讽的说明。
“他死时，”她冷酷地继续，“我发誓，日后一定要找个和他一模一样的男人，然后让他承担他本该承受的一切。我将对他所有的生活习惯和饮食口味了如指掌，却一项都让他得不到满足。我知道他是为了钱才与我结婚的，但在我死之前，他休想拿到半分。我会活很久很久，因为他必须豁出命来，小心翼翼地照顾我，尽量让我多活一口气。”
此时艾伯比先生已经恢复了理智。他发现，尽管她十分激动，脚却没挪步，还站在刚才的位置。“你怎么能让他心甘情愿这么做呢？”他轻声问道，同时朝她靠近了一厘米。
“听起来很离谱，是不是，艾破烂儿？”她看穿了他的意图，“但就算再离谱，也没有你那六个老婆都被地毯绊死离谱。盖因斯伯勒先生发现了一件非常奇怪的事情，有很多人是被巧合送上绞架的——就像你的做法——叫她去拿杯水——就像现在，特别当有人产生了谋杀动机的情况下。”
艾伯比先生突然觉得领子紧得让他喘不过气来。“你还是没有回答我的问题，”他狡辩道，“你怎么能让我豁出我的命，去为你延年益寿？”
“如果一个妻子可以随时把她的丈夫吊死，那她自然就能做到。”
“不，”艾伯比先生克制地说，“我觉得这样做只能把这个男人逼走，尽快摆脱他的妻子，越快越好。”
“哦，这样一来，就会引来后面的连锁反应。”
“连锁反应？什么连锁反应？”艾伯比先生质问道。
“我很乐意为你解释，”他的妻子说道，“事实上，也到了不得不解释的时候了。不过，我觉得站在这儿很不舒服。”
“别管这些了。”艾伯比先生不耐烦地说，妻子耸了耸肩。
“哦，好吧。”她冷酷地说道，“现在，盖因斯伯勒先生手上有一切关于你前几次婚姻的文件——她们是怎么死的，以及每当你那家商店不得不清偿债务的时候，你总是能适时获得一笔遗产。
“另外，他手上还有一封我的亲笔信，表明如果我死了，务必立即进行各项必要的调查。盖因斯伯勒先生手头的材料太充分了，还有指纹和照片……”
“指纹和照片！”艾伯比先生叫道。
“当然。我父亲死后，我才发现他早就准备好逃去海外了。盖因斯伯勒先生向我保证，如果你也有这个打算，最好趁早死了这条心。他说，不管你在哪儿，把你抓回来都易如反掌。”
“你想要我做什么？”艾伯比先生木然地问道，“你肯定不希望我再待在这里了，而且——”
“哦，不，我希望你待在这儿。既然我们已经聊到这一步了，我觉得还是跟你直说了吧，我希望你从此永远忘记你那家没用的店，这样你就能一整天都待在家里陪着我了。”
“放弃那家店！”他尖叫道。
“你肯定还记得，艾破烂儿，我在信里要求死后进行全面的调查，但并没具体写明可能致死的原因。我希望你能在我身边，陪我度过一段漫长而愉悦的生活。或许——对你，我只能说或许——哪一天我会撕毁那封信，并把所有证据都交给你。你看，对你有利的方面还是很多的。前提是，你要小心地好好照顾我。”
电话铃声突然粗鲁地响了起来，艾伯比夫人冲电话方向点了点头。“盖因斯伯勒先生，一直这么小心谨慎。”她温柔地说道，“要是我晚上九点没有打电话告诉他我很好、很开心，他可能会马上跳起来，认为发生了最不好的事。”
“等一下。”艾伯比先生说道，他拿起电话听筒，不用说，从里面传出的声音正是盖因斯伯勒的。
“喂，”是老盖因斯伯勒，“喂，是艾伯比夫人吗？”
艾伯比先生想耍个把戏。“不是，”他说，“恐怕她现在不能来接电话。你是谁？”
传人他耳中的声音带着明白无误的恐吓意味。“我是盖因斯伯勒·艾伯比先生，我希望能马上和你妻子说话。我给你十秒钟让她来接电话，艾伯比先生。听明白了吗？”
艾伯比先生笨拙地转向妻子，递出听筒。“找你的。”他说。接着，他吃惊地看着她脚下的地毯在她准备放下水杯时稍微滑动了一下。她挥舞着双臂，想保持平衡，水杯跌到他的脚边，打湿了他整洁的裤子。她的脸扭曲变形，发出无声的悲鸣，身体重重地倒在了地上。她毫无生气的身体躺在了他最熟悉的那个地方。
他看着她，几乎忽略了从电话听筒一直传到他脑子里的声音。
“十秒钟数完了，艾伯比先生，”里面的声音近乎尖叫，“明白了吗？你的时间到了！”
Notes:
Notes: