Chapter 8 chapter eight

They stood in Elena Marshall's bedroom, with two French windows opening onto a balcony overlooking the beach and the sea.The sunlight shone into the room, shining on the various bottles and jars on Elena's dressing table, full of cosmetics and things used in beauty salons.Among this mass of women's things, three big men searched everywhere. Inspector Koggand opened and closed the drawer. He snorted because he found a bundle of folded letters. He and Wen Leston went through the bunch of letters together. Hercule Poirot went to the wardrobe, opened the door, and saw all kinds of dresses, dresses and sportswear hanging inside.He opened the door on the other side. There was a pile of transparent pajamas underneath, and several hats on a wide shelf above.Two other cardboard beach hats, a vermilion, a buff, and a very large Hawaiian straw hat--and a dark blue linen hat, and three or four little ornamental hats, presumably Not a few—a dark blue beanie—a head-dress of black velvet made into a tuft of feathers—a pale gray turban, where Hercule Poirot saw After a while, a smile formed on his lips.He murmured: "Oh, woman!"

Colonel Winston folded the letters. "Three are from young Redfern." He said, "That damned fool. In a few years he'll learn not to write love letters to women." Well, women always keep the letter, and swear it's burned. Here's another letter, the same thing." He passed the letter, and Poirot took it. "Dear Elena: God, I feel so sad, I'm leaving for China-maybe I won't see you again for many, many years, I don't think there will be a man in the world who will be crazy about a woman to the extent I am for you .Thank you for the check, they won't sue me now, but it's really dangerous, and all because I want to get you a lot of money.can you forgive me?I want to put diamonds in your ears—your lovely, dear ears, and put big milky white pearls around your neck, except they say pearls are out of fashion these days.So, how about getting a big emerald?Yes, this is it, a big piece of emerald, cool and green, with hidden fire inside, don't forget me - I know, you won't forget me, you are mine, you belong to me forever.

Good-bye-bye-bye. J. N. " Inspector Cogender said: "Perhaps it's worth looking into whether this J. N. has actually been to China. Otherwise—well, he might be just the man we're looking for. Love that woman madly, Idealizing her and then suddenly finding out he's been taken for a ride. I think that's the one Miss Brest mentioned. Well, I think it might be useful." Hercule Poirot nodded, and said: "Well, this letter is very important, I think it is." He turned and looked around the room—at the bottles on the dresser—at the open wardrobe, and at the big doll on the bed.They went into Kenneth Marshall's room, which was next to his wife's room, but there was no connecting door between the two rooms, and there was no balcony on his side.The rooms face the same direction, have two windows, but are much smaller.A mirror hung between the two windows.In the corner of the room by the window on the right-hand side stood a dressing-table with two ivory hairbrushes, a clothesbrush, and a bottle of hair water.In the corner on the left side of the window is a writing desk with an open typewriter on it and a large stack of white papers next to it.

Cogender checked it quickly.He said: "Looks all right. Ah, here's the letter he mentioned this morning. It's dated the twenty-fourth—yesterday. Here's the envelope—with the comb from this morning." The postmark of the Bay Post Office, it seems to be all right, and now we can check whether he may have written his reply in advance." He sat down, and Colonel Winston said: "This matter is left to you for the time being. Let's take a look around this room. Everyone is restricted from entering this corridor. Everyone is a little Not happy." They then went into Linda Marshall's room.The room faced east, looking out over rocks and the sea below.

Winston looked around, and he murmured: "I don't think there's much to see here. But Marshall probably put something in his daughter's room that he didn't want us to find, but it's not possible, because there is no The murder weapon, or something to throw away." He went out again. Hercule Poirot stayed behind, seeing something on the mantelpiece which interested him very much.Something burned there recently.He knelt down, and patiently spread out what he had found on a piece of paper, a large, irregularly shaped piece of candle grease—a piece of green paper or A calendar, because one of the fragments that didn't burn had a "5" on it, along with the words "...while going...".Another common needle, some burnt animal stuff, probably hair.Poirot put these things in a neat row, and then looked at them intently.He muttered to himself, "'It's better to sit than stand up and walk', maybe that's it. But what's the matter with these things? How strange!" Then he picked up the needle, and his eyes suddenly became sharp .He murmured, "My God! Is it possible?"

Hercule Poirot rose from his knees by the mantelpiece, and looked slowly about the room, the expression of his face completely changed, becoming brooding, even a little cold.To the left of the fireplace is a shelf with a row of books on it.Hercule Poirot went over all the titles thoughtfully.A Bible, an old anthology of Shakespeare, The Marriage of William Ashe by Mrs Humphrey Ward, The Young Stepmother by Charlotte Younge, The Great Murder in a Church, Bernard Shaw's Joan of Arc, Lady Margaret Missier, and Dickinson Carr's The Burning Yard. Poirot pulled out two books, "The Young Stepmother" and "The Marriage of William Ash", and opened them to see the faint seal on the title page. Just as he was about to put the two books back, he saw There was another book squeezed behind these books. The book had a smaller format and a cover made of brown soft leather. He took out the book, opened it, nodded slowly, and murmured: "So I was right again... Yes, I was right, but the other thing—is it possible? No, impossible, unless..."

He stood there motionless, stroking his beard, thinking about that question all the time, and whispering to himself softly: "Unless—" Colonel Winston poked his head in at the door, "Hello, Poirot, are you still here?" "Come, come," cried Poirot.He hurried into the corridor.The room next door to Linda belonged to the Redferns. Poirot looked at it, and immediately noticed that it showed two very different personalities—one side was very neat and orderly, and he thought it was Christine's tidying up. , the other side is very messy, which is the expression of Patrick's personality.Apart from this display of personality, the room did not interest him at all.The next one belonged to Rosamund Darley, and he lingered there just to admire the occupant of this room. He noticed a few books on the bedside table, and those on the dressing table. Expensive but simple cosmetics, but also the elegant fragrance of Rosamund Daly's usual perfume.

Beyond Rosamund Daly's room, at the northern end of the corridor is an open floor-to-ceiling door leading to a balcony with a ladder leading to the rock below.Winston said: "This is the way people go for a swim before breakfast—of course it's the people who like to dive off the rocks." There was a look of interest in Hercule Poirot's eyes.He went outside and looked down. There was a small path leading to the dug steps, which zigzagged and went straight to the sea below.There is also a small path that goes around the hotel to the left.He said: "You can go down this ladder, go around the hotel on the left, and join the main road coming from the embankment."

Winston nodded.He extended Poirot's statement: "You can go from one side of the island to the other without passing through the hotel." "But there is still the possibility of being seen from the window," he said. "What window?" "The two windows of the public bathroom to this side - the north one - and the staff bathroom, and the cloakroom on the first floor, and the pool room." Poirot nodded, and said: "But the windows in the front are all frosted glass, and if the weather is fine in the morning, no one will play pool." "Exactly," said Winston, after a pause. "That's the way the case would have gone if it had been done."

"You mean Mr. Marshall?" "Yeah, blackmail or not, I still think he's the problem, and his attitude—well, it's unfortunate that he's that attitude." Hercule Poirot said flatly: "Perhaps—but the murderer cannot be judged by attitude." Winston said: "Then you don't think he's a suspect?" Poirot shook his head. He said: "No, I wouldn't say that." Winston said: "Let's see what Cogender found on the typed alibi. At the same time, I will ask the maid on duty on this floor. Many questions will depend on her testimony. Let's decide."

The maid was about thirty years old, lively, efficient, and intelligent.Her testimony was very clear that Mr. Marshall came upstairs to his room shortly after about half-past ten, when she was cleaning it, and he asked her to do it as soon as possible.She didn't see him come back later, but after a while, she heard the sound of typing, and she said it was about five minutes to eleven.She was cleaning in Mr. and Mrs. Redfern's room, and then she went to Miss Daley's room at the end of the corridor, where no typing could be heard.It was just after eleven o'clock, as far as she could remember, when she was in Miss Darley's room, and she also remembered hearing the clocks of Piscomb Cove Church strike eleven as she entered the door.At a quarter past eleven she went downstairs to have her eleven o'clock tea.Then she went to clean up the rooms on the other side of the hotel.When answering the police chief's question, she explained the rooms cleaned here, in order: Miss Linda Marshall's room, two shared bathrooms, Mrs. Marshall's suite, Mr. Marshall's room, Red Fang and his wife's suite, and Miss Dai Li's suite.Neither Mr. Marshall nor Miss Marshall's room had an attached bathroom.While she was cleaning Miss Daley's room and bathroom, she hadn't heard anyone pass by the door, or the steps down to the sea below, but she probably wouldn't have heard anyone if they had slipped by. Winston went on to ask some questions about Mrs. Marshall. The woman named Gladys Narrick said that Mrs. Marshall usually doesn't get up so early, so she found Mrs. Marshall's door open just after ten o'clock, and people had gone downstairs. At that time, I couldn't help being surprised, this is really an unusual thing. "Has Mrs. Marshall always been in bed?" "Oh, yes, sir, always, and don't eat much, just tea and orange juice, with a slice of toast, and keep slim like so many ladies." No, she didn't this morning I thought there was something odd in Mrs. Marshall's manner, she looked as usual. Hercule Poirot murmured: "Miss, what do you think of Mrs. Marshall?" Gladys Narekod stared at him and said, "Well, that's not for me to say, is it? You." "You can tell, of course, and we're anxious—very anxious to hear what your impressions are." Gladys glanced at the chief of police with some unease, and he immediately put on a sympathetic and encouraging expression on his face. In fact, he was quite embarrassed by the interrogation method adopted by this foreign colleague.He said, "Ah—yes, of course, go ahead." Suddenly Gladys's efficiency was gone, and she groped with her fingers at the calico dress she was wearing and said, "Well, Mrs. Marshall—she's not really a lady, as you'd say, my I mean, she's more of an actress." Colonel Winston said: "She would have been an actress." "Yes, you, that's what I mean, she's always been what she wants to be, she's not—well, if she doesn't want to be polite, she can't be polite, all of a sudden smiling, all of a sudden Or because she couldn't find something, or she rang the bell and they didn't come right away, or the laundry didn't come back, she'd be fierce and bad right away. None of us Like her, but her clothes are beautiful, and, of course, she is a very beautiful lady, so it is natural that many people look up to her." Colonel Winston said: "I'm sorry I have to ask you a question, but this is an important matter. Could you tell me how things are going between her and her husband?" After a moment's hesitation, Gladys said: "You don't—that wouldn't be—you don't think he did it, do you?" Hercule Poirot asked quickly: "What do you say?" "Oh, I don't think so. He's a very nice fellow. Mr. Marshall wouldn't do such a thing—I dare say he never would." "But you're not really sure—I can hear it in your tone." Gladys said reluctantly: "I've seen a lot of news in the newspapers after all! Those things that involve jealousy, if there is any ambiguity - of course everyone is talking about - I mean, say she What's the matter with Mr. Redfarn. And Mrs. Redfern is such a nice, quiet woman. It's a pity. Mr. Redfern is also a very good person. But when a man meets a woman like Mrs. Marshall It seems that she can't help herself--her kind of woman always wants to do what she wants. I think. I'm afraid the ladies will have to bear it." She sighed and paused, "But if Mr. Marshall finds out If this matter-" Colonel Winston followed up and asked: "How is it?" "I'm not saying it's going to happen, it's just that I think—sometimes she's—frightened of him. He's a very quiet guy, but he's not—not very easygoing." Winston said: "But you don't have any definite evidence? For example, what did they say to each other." Gladys shook her head slowly.Winston sighed, and went on: "Well, is there anything you can tell us about the letters Mrs. Marshall received this morning?" "Probably six or seven. I can't remember the exact number." "Did you send it up to her?" "Yes, I took the letter from the office as usual and put it up on the breakfast tray." "Do you remember what those letters looked like?" The girl shook her head, "Just ordinary letters, some advertisements and leaflets, I think, because they were all shredded and thrown on the tray." "What about the torn letters?" "It was thrown into the trash can, and now a police officer is checking it." Winston nodded. "Where's the stuff in the wastebasket? Was it dumped there?" "Also in the dumpster." Winston said: "Well - well, well, I don't think there's anything else to do at the moment." He gave Poirot a questioning look. Poirot leaned forward. "When you cleaned Miss Linda Marshall's room this morning, did you clean the fireplace?" "There's nothing to clean up, my dear, and you haven't lit a fire." "Is there nothing in the fireplace?" "No, everything is clean." "When did you clean her room?" "About a quarter past nine, when she went down to breakfast." "Do you know if she ever went back to her room after breakfast?" "I know. She came upstairs at a quarter to ten." "Did she just stay in her room?" "I think so, and then ran out in a hurry when it was almost half past ten." "Did you not go into her room again?" "No, that room has been cleaned." Poirot nodded, and said: "There is one more thing I want to know. Has anyone gone swimming this morning before breakfast?" "I don't know the situation of the other side and the upper floor. I only know the situation of these few rooms." "I just need to know that." "Well, only Mr. Marshall and Mr. Redfern have been swimming this morning, and I think they always go in early in the morning." "Did you see them?" "No, but their wet bathing suits are hanging out on the balcony rail as usual." "Miss Linda Marshall didn't go swimming this morning?" "No, her bathing suit is dry." "Ah," said Poirot, "that's all I want to know." Gladys Narekod said automatically, "She goes to the morning swim most of the time." "And the other three? Miss Darley, Mrs. Redfern, and Mrs. Marshall." "Mrs Marshall never, Miss Daley once or twice, I think Mrs Redfern seldom swims before breakfast--only when it's very hot, but she didn't swim this morning. " Poirot nodded again.Then he asked, "I wonder if you found a bottle missing in the room you were in charge of cleaning today?" "Bottle? What kind of bottle?" "Unfortunately, I don't know—but if there was something missing in that room, would you have noticed?" Gladys said frankly: "If it was Mrs. Marshall's room, I wouldn't know it. It's a fact. There are too many bottles and cans in her place." "What about the other rooms?" "Well, in Miss Daley's room, I'm not sure, she also has a lot of cold cream and lotion, but the other rooms will notice. I mean, if you really look at it, or really go If you pay attention." "But you didn't really pay attention?" "No, because I didn't go to see it in particular as I said." "Well, how about you go and have a look now?" "OK." She left the room, the calico dress rattling.Winston looked at Poirot and said: "What's the matter?" Poirot murmured: "My well-ordered mind has been disturbed by some trifle! Miss Brest was going for an early swim under the rocks this morning before breakfast, and she said a bottle was thrown from it and nearly hit it. killed her, so I'm trying to figure out who threw that bottle and why?" "Gee, anybody's gonna drop a bottle or something." "No. First of all, only from the window of the east wing of the hotel, that is to say, from the window of one of the rooms we have just inspected. Now I ask you, if in your dressing room What do you do with an empty bottle on the counter or in the bathroom? I tell you, you throw it in the wastebasket instead of going to the trouble of going out on the balcony and throwing the bottle in the ocean! Because the first , you are likely to hit others, and second, that is too troublesome. This is only because you don’t want a special bottle to be seen by others.” Winston stared at him and said: "I've often heard Inspector Japp, with whom I've had a case or two, say that you've got all the twists and turns in your head, and you're not going to tell me Elena Marshall isn't really Strangled to death, but poisoned to death with a mysterious drug in some mysterious bottle?" "No, no, I don't think that bottle contains poison." "What is it wearing?" "I don't know a thing. That's why I'm interested." Gladys Narekod came back and said, a little out of breath, "Excuse me, sir, but I don't see anything missing. I'm sure Mr. Marshall's room is all right." Miss Linda Marshall and Mrs. and Mrs. Redfern's room were the same, and I was sure that there was nothing missing in Miss Darley's room, but in Mrs. Marshall's room, I couldn't say for sure. As I said, she There's too much stuff in there." Poirot shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's okay, just leave him alone for now." Gladys Narekod said, "Is there anything else?" She looked at them one by one. Winston said: "I don't think so, thank you." Poirot said: "Thank you, it's all right. Are you sure there's nothing--nothing at all that you forgot to tell us?" "About Mrs. Marshall?" "Anything, anything unusual, unreasonable, unreasonable, a little special, weird—wait, it's going to make you think about it, or bring it up to your colleagues and say, 'That's weird!' things." Gladys said suspiciously: "Uh, you wouldn't say it's such a trivial matter, would you?" "Never mind what I mean," said Hercule Poirot, "you don't know what I mean. Well, did you ever find yourself thinking 'that's strange' in your mind today?" This word is quite ironic. Gladys said, "Actually, it's nothing at all. It's just that someone is running water to take a bath. However, I actually told Aixi who was on duty downstairs that it was strange. How could someone take a bath around twelve o'clock." "Whose bathroom? Who's taking a shower?" "I don't know about that. We just heard waste water coming down the pipe here, so I told Aixi about that." "Can you be sure that's someone taking a shower? Not someone washing their hands?" "Ah! I'm sure you can't mishear the sound of letting the bathwater go." Poirot said there was no need to keep her any longer, so they let Gladys Narikod go. Winston said: "You don't think it's an important question of someone taking a bath, do you, Poirot? I mean, it doesn't matter in that respect, and it's not that there's blood to wash off, it's just—" He hesitated. Poirot interrupted: "That's what you're saying, that's the advantage of strangulation! No blood, no weapon—nothing to throw away or hide! Nothing but physical strength is needed—only the instinct to murder! ’ His tone was so angry and full of emotion that Winston recoiled from it.Hercule Poirot smiled slightly apologetically. "Ah, ah," he said, "the business of the bath may not be of any importance. Anyone could take a bath. Before Mrs. Redfern went to play tennis, or It's Mr. Marshall, Miss Daiza, as I said just now, anyone can take a bath, it's okay." A police officer knocked on the door, put his head in and said, "Miss Dai Li is looking for you. She said she wanted to see you two again. She said that she forgot to tell you something." "We're going down now," said Winston. The first person they saw was Cogand.He grimaced. "Excuse me, Chief." Winston and Poirot followed him into Mrs. Consue's office, and Cogender said, "I checked with Hande about typing, and there is no problem. It will take at least an hour." I just finished the fight. If I had to stop and think about it in the middle, I’m afraid it will take more time. I don’t think there is any problem with the time. Also, please read this letter.” He handed over the letter . "Mr. Marshall learned a lot: I am sorry to send you a letter during your vacation, but an unforeseen emergency occurred in the contract signed with Baili Company..." "Wait, blah," said Cogender. "The date of the letter is the twenty-fourth—that is, yesterday. The envelope bears the postmark from London yesterday, and the postmark received at Pelcomb Bay this morning. Envelope and The letter was typed on the same typewriter, and it appears from the content that it is quite impossible for Marshall to have prepared a reply in advance. The numbers are all quoted from the letter—the whole thing is perfectly fine." "Well," said Winston angrily, "this seems to clear the suspicion of Marshall, we have to start anew." He then added: "I have to see Miss Daley, she is waiting now." Rosamund walked in very readily, with a slightly apologetic smile on her face.She said, "I'm so sorry, maybe it's not worth bothering you about, but people forget things sometimes." "What's the matter, Miss Daley?" The chief of police pointed to a chair. She shook her head, "Oh, small things, it's not worth sitting down and talking about, it's just like this, I told you, I spent the whole morning on Sunshine Cliff, in fact, this is not entirely true, I forgot the middle I went back to the hotel once and went out again." "What time was that, Miss Dailey?" "It should be a quarter past eleven." "You said, are you going back to the hotel?" "Yeah, I forgot my sunglasses, at first I thought it was ok, then my eyes got a little tired, so I decided to come back and get them." "Did you go straight back to your room and then go out again?" "Yes, but I also went to see Gump -- er, Mr. Marshall, I heard his typewriter, and thought he was stupid sitting in the house on such a fine day. I should Call him out." "What does Mr. Marshall say?" Rosamund smiled a little embarrassedly and said: "Uh, when I opened the door, he was busy typing, frowning, looking concentrated, so I left quietly, I think he didn't know anything about it." See me go in." "Then - what time is it? Miss Dai Li?" "It's exactly twenty past eleven. When I went out, I looked at the clock in the corridor." "That's a final cap," said Inspector Cogender. "The maid heard him typing until at least five past eleven, and Miss Daly saw him again at twenty past eleven. The woman died at a quarter to twelve. He said he was in the room typing for about an hour, and it looked like he was typing in the room, and Mr. Marshall was cleared." He paused, a little Looking at Poirot strangely, he asked, "Mr. Poirot seems to be thinking about something." Poirot said thoughtfully: "I was wondering why Miss Dai Li suddenly volunteered to provide this additional evidence." Inspector Kogende raised his head in a vigilant manner, "Do you think there is fraud? Isn't it a matter of 'forgetting'?" He thought for a minute or two, and then said slowly: "I said, we See, suppose Miss Daley wasn't in Sunshine Bluff that morning as she said, that's a lie. Suppose after she finished telling us, she found out that she was seen elsewhere, or something I went up to Sunny Bluff, but she wasn't there. So she quickly made up another story to tell us why she wasn't there, and you probably noticed that she specifically said that Mr. Marshall wasn't there. Saw her when she poked her head in." Poirot murmured, "Yes, I noticed." Winston asked in disbelief: "Are you saying that Miss Daley is also involved in this case? Nonsense, I think it is really ridiculous, how could she?" Inspector Cogender coughed and said, "You still remember the words of that American woman, Mrs. Gardner. She seems to imply that Miss Daley loves Mr. Marshall very much. That's the motive, Director." Winston said impatiently: "Alina Marshall did not die at the hands of a woman. The murderer we are looking for is a man. It is a man we are looking for in this case." Inspector Cogender sighed, and said, "Well, it's true, we keep getting back to the same old problems, don't we?" Winston continued: "It's best to send a policeman to check the time, for example, how long it takes to go around from the hotel to the top of the ladder on the other side of the island, and let him run and walk. For the time it takes to go up and down the ladder, it is best to find someone to find out how long it takes to go from the beach to Little Demon Bay with a small raft." Inspector Cogender nodded. "I'll take care of it," he said confidently. The chief of police said: "I want to find someone to go to the goblin bay now. See if Philip finds anything. And the goblin hole we heard about. Should go and see if there is any trace of someone waiting there , eh? Poirot? What do you think?" "Absolutely. Very likely." Winston said: "It's a good place to hide if someone sneaks onto the island from out of town—if he knows there's a place. I suppose the locals know that?" "I don't think the younger generation will know that since the hotel opened here, these bays have been privately owned. The fishermen and picnickers don't go there anymore, and the people in the hotel are not locals," Cogender said. Mrs. Su was born and raised in London." Winston said: "We can take Redfonne; he told us about this place. What about you, M. Poirot?" Hercule Poirot hesitated, and said in a heavily foreign accent: "No, I don't like climbing straight ladders any more than Miss Brest and Mrs Redfern." Winston said: "You can come around by boat." Hercule Poirot sighed again. "My stomach doesn't feel well at sea." "Nonsense, man, the weather is fine today, the sea is as calm as a small pond, you can't let us down." Hercule Poirot seemed unwilling to agree to the entreaty of the Englishman, but at this moment, Mrs. Consue put her head in from the door. "I hope I don't disturb you." She said: "But Mr. Lane , you know, the pastor, just came back, and I thought you'd like to know about it." "Ah, yes, thank you, Mrs. Consu, we'll see him right away." Mrs. Consue came into the room, and she said, "I don't know if there's something worth mentioning, but I've heard that even the smallest accident should not be ignored—" "Yes, what is it?" said Winston impatiently. "Nothing, except that at about one o'clock a lady and a gentleman came, having lunched from the other side. We told them that there had been an accident here, and that lunch could not be served under the circumstances." "Do you know who they are?" "I don't know at all, and of course I didn't ask their names. They expressed their disappointment and were curious to know what happened. Of course, I can't tell them anything. I think they are Xia Tian. Rich people who come to play." Winston said abruptly: "Ah, well, thank you for telling us about that. It may not be important, but remembering everything - er - is right." "Of course," said Mrs. Consue, "I hope to do my duty." "Yes, yes, Mr. Lane, please come here." Steven Lane strode into the room with his usual vigor. Winston said: "I am the Chief Constable of the County, Mr Lane, and I suppose you have heard what has happened here?" "Yes—ah, yes—I heard about it when I came back. It's terrible...it's terrible..." His thin body trembled, and he lowered his voice: "It's been so long—since I arrived From here on—I noticed—very much—that there are evil forces around us." His eager eyes turned to Poirot, and he said: "You remember, Mr. Poirot, we Talked about? Talked about the real existence of evil?" Winston was sizing up the tall, lanky figure and finding it difficult to make out what he was like.Lane looked back at him, and the pastor said with a smile, "I dare say this strikes you as ridiculous. People don't believe in evil these days. We've abolished hellfire! We don't believe in the devil anymore. ! But Satan and his angels have never been more powerful than they are today." Winston said: "Er—er—yes, probably. That's what you do, Mr. Lane, and mine is a duller business—just to solve this murder case." Steven Lane said: "What a dreadful word, murder! It was one of the first known crimes—Cain's merciless killing of his innocent brother..." He paused, eyes half-closed .Then asked in a more normal voice: "What can I do for you?" "First of all, Mr. Lane, can you tell me about your actions today?" "Okay. I started hiking early this morning, and I love hiking. I've been through a lot of country around here. Today I went to St. Bell's, which is about seven miles from here - along the bend I took my lunch with me and ate it in a grove. I also went to their church - there are some old glass fragments in the church - unfortunately, only有些碎片而已——另外还有一面画得很好的屏风。” “谢谢你，蓝恩先生，你在路上有没有碰到什么人呢？” “没有和人谈话，有次一辆车子经过我身边，还有两个骑脚踏车的男孩子、几头牛。不过，”他微笑道：“如果你要我提出证明的话，我在教堂的来宾签名簿上留下了名字，你可以去查一查。” “在教堂里你也没有见到什么人吗？——比方说，执事，或是堂守？” 史蒂文·蓝恩摇了摇头。他说：“没有，教堂里没有人，游客也只有我一个。圣培尔是个很荒僻的地方，村子离教堂还又有半英里路呢。” 温斯顿上校很轻快地说：“你可别以为我们——呃——怀疑你的话，我们只是要查问每个人的行踪，你知道，这是例行公事，例行公事而已。碰到这种事，就一定要照规矩来。” 史蒂文·蓝恩用柔和的语气说：“哦，我很了解。” 温斯顿继续说道：“第二个问题，你是不是知道有什么可以对我们有所帮助的？关于死者的任何事情？可以让我们知道凶手是谁的线索？或是你听到、看到的事情？” 史蒂文·蓝恩说：“我什么都没听说。我能告诉你的是：我一看到艾莲娜·马歇尔，马上很本能的就知道她是邪恶的中心，她就是邪恶！是邪恶的化身！女人可以是男人生活中的助力与灵感——但也可能会毁灭男人。她会把一个男人往下拖到和禽兽一般的地步。那个已经死了的女人正是这样一个女人。他代表了人类所有的原始本性。她就是圣经上所记述的妖女，现在——她在作恶的中途被击倒了。” 赫邱里·白罗只动了下身子。他说：“不是被击倒了——是被扼死的，蓝恩先生，是一双人的手扼死的。” 那个牧师的两手颤抖，十指拳曲。他的声音低沉而哽咽地说：“真可怕——真可怕——你难道一定要这样说吗？” 赫邱里·白罗说：“事实如此。蓝恩先生，你可知道那双手是谁的吗？” 蓝恩摇了摇头，他说：“我不知道——什么也不知道……” 温斯顿站了起来，朝柯根德看了一眼，对方向他微一颔首。温斯顿说：“呃，我们该去小妖湾了。” 蓝恩说：“事情就——发生在那里吗？” 温斯顿点了点头。蓝恩说：“我能——能不能跟你一起去？” 温斯顿正要加以婉拒，白罗却抢先一步说道：“当然可以，陪我一起坐船去吧，蓝恩先生，我们马上动身。”