第122章 卷18(2 / 2)

“算了吧,马龙,” 杰克说,“他没有你的钥匙。”

“Drop it, Malone,” Jake said. “He hasn’t got your key.”

海伦点了一支烟,坐在那里透过烟雾凝视着。“也许我们一开始就错了。也许我们在倒着走。”

Helene lit a cigarette and sat staring through its smoke. “Maybe we’re beginning at the wrong end. Maybe we’re going backward.”

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“你是说就像马车被偷后把马放在谷仓门前面?” 杰克问。

“You mean like putting the horse before the barn door after the cart has been stolen?” Jake asked.

她皱着眉头看着香烟。“也许如果我们回顾一下这个人的生活,我们可能会发现一些相关的事实。给我们简单介绍一下你自己吧,罗斯?”

She frowned at the cigarette. “Perhaps if we reviewed this guy’s life, we might hit on some pertinent fact. How about a thumbnail sketch of yourself, Ross?”

他对着她微笑,靠在枕头上显得很虚弱。“我叫罗斯?麦克劳林。我的家人来自波士顿。我的曾祖父是罗斯?麦克劳林,他……”

He smiled at her, wan against the pillows. “My name is Ross McLaurin. My people e from Boston. My great-grandfather was the Ross McLaurin who—”

“别管那些了,” 海伦赶紧说,“从这一代开始讲起。”

“Never mind all that,” Helene said hastily, “start with the present generation.”

“我出生在波士顿。我母亲是韦斯科特家族的人。她有艺术气质,年轻时在巴黎学过绘画。” 突然,他年轻的眼睛变得又黑又亮。“你知道,如果她能得到真正的鼓励,她会成为一位伟大的艺术家。我知道她会的。”

“I was born in Boston. My mother was a Wescott. She had an artistic nature, and studied painting in Paris when she was a girl.” Suddenly his young eyes grew dark and glistening. “You know, if she’d had any real encouragement, she’d have been a great artist. I know she would.”

“我相信,” 海伦温柔地说,“继续。”

“I’m sure of it,” Helene said gently. “Go on.”

“我父亲在我还是个婴儿的时候就去世了。然后我们一直住在巴黎,直到我快五岁的时候,我们搬到了马略卡岛。我实际上是在那里长大的。我在英国上过几年学,但大部分时间我都有家庭教师。弗朗西斯卡希望我和她在一起。”

“My father died when I was just a baby. Then we lived in Paris until I was nearly five, and then we moved to Majorca. I really grew up there. I went to school in England a few years, but most of the time I had a tutor. Francesca wanted me with her.”

“弗朗西斯卡是个城市,” 杰克说,“旧金山。”

“Francesca is a city,” Jake said. “San Francesca.”

罗斯?麦克劳林摇了摇头。“那是我一直对我母亲的称呼。她的真名叫弗朗西丝,但她自称弗朗西斯卡。她的灵魂完全与古老的意大利精神融为一体。”

Ross McLaurin shook his head. “That’s what I always called my mother. Her name was really Frances, but she called herself Francesca. Her soul was entirely one with the spirit of the old Italy.”

小主,

马龙赶紧忍住吹口哨的冲动,说道:“这非常有趣。”

Malone hastily smothered a whistle, and said, “This is extremely interesting.”

“弗朗西斯卡画了很多画,但她从来没有完成过任何一幅。她就像一个任性的孩子。她过去常对我说,‘罗斯,我仍然像一个任性的孩子。在我看来,你更像一个父亲而不是儿子。’当然,她从来没有完成过任何作品也没关系,因为我们有很多钱,而且她无论如何也不需要卖掉任何画。弗朗西斯卡是一个非常迷人的女人。我希望你能认识她。”

“Francesca painted a great deal, but she never finished anything. She was like a willful child. She used to say to me, ‘Ross, I’m still like a willful child. You seem more to me like a father than a son.’ Of course it didn’t matter that she never finished anything, because we had a lot of money and she didn’t need to sell any pictures anyway. Francesca was a very fascinating woman. I wish you might have known her.”

“我也希望如此。” 杰克热情地说。

“I wish so, too,” Jake said warmly.

“我们从来都不认识很多人,因为她非常孤独。但我们确实认识莫娜?麦克莱恩。她来看过我们很多次。”

“We never knew very many people, because she was very solitary. But we did know Mona McClane. She visited us a number of times.”

海伦说:“那你当时认识莫娜?麦克莱恩现在的任何一位客人吗?”

Helene said, “Did you know any of Mona McClane’s present house guests then?”

“不,一个都不认识。我在来这里之前见过洛特斯,但那是在弗朗西斯卡……” 他停顿了一下,然后说,“她上吊自杀了。那是战争爆发的那天,1939 年 9 月 3 日。在她的工作室里,在美第奇的维纳斯雕像前。当然,那是一尊石膏像,但非常精美。”

“No, none of them. I’d met Lotus before I came here, but that was after Francesca—” He paused, and said, “She hanged herself. It was the day that war broke out, September third, 1939. In her studio, before the statue of the Venus de’ Medici. It was a plaster cast of the statue, of course, but it was a very good one.”

“告诉我,” 马龙随意地问道,“你住在马略卡岛的时候经常喝酒吗?”

“Tell me,” Malone asked casually, “did you do much drinking when you lived on Majorca?”

“不。一点也不喝。弗朗西斯卡不喝酒,她还是个素食主义者。她主要靠坚果为生。当然,我做她想让我做的事。我是她在这个世界上仅有的亲人。” 他急促地吸了口气,说,“我希望她现在在这儿。她会知道该怎么做。”

“No. None at all. Francesca didn’t drink, and she was a vegetarian. She lived mostly on nuts. And, of course, I did what she wanted me to do. I was all she had left in the world.” He drew a quick breath and said, “I wish she were here now. She’d know what to do.”

小主,

“她或许会知道。” 海伦恭敬地说。“那你那时离开了马略卡岛吗?”

“She might at that,” Helene said reverently. “Did you leave Majorca then?”

“是的,我离开了。但我不知道该去哪儿。当然,有很多钱。最后我去了巴黎,然后战争爆发了,我遇到了很多人。其中一个是洛特斯。后来巴黎被占领了,我离开了,离开的时候遇到了很多麻烦。我记得我走了好几英里,抱着一只被机枪子弹打伤腿的女人的狗,最后我到了这里。” 他停顿了一会儿,然后说,“我想就是在那段时间里我开始喝酒的。我不记得具体是什么时候了。” 他皱着眉头说,“弗朗西斯卡会把这些记得更清楚。她的记忆力非常好。不管怎样,我坐快船到了这个国家,我想起了莫娜?麦克莱恩,所以我从纽约给她发了电报,她邀请我去看她,然后我就来了。我想就这些了。”

“Yes, I did. But I didn’t know where to go. There was plenty of money, of course. Finally I went to Paris, and there was the war, and I met a lot of people. One of them was Lotus. Then Paris was taken, and I left, and there was a lot of trouble getting away. I remember walking for miles and miles carrying some woman’s dog that had its leg broken by a machine-gun bullet, and finally I got over here.” He paused a moment and then said, “I guess it was somewhere along in there that I started drinking. I don’t just remember when.” He scowled and said, “Francesca would have remembered all this better. She had a wonderful memory. Anyway I got over to this country on the Clipper, and I remembered Mona McClane, so I wired her from New York, and she invited me to e and visit her and here I am. I guess that’s everything.”

“还有一个问题。” 马龙非常温柔地说。“你多大了?”

“One question more,” Malone said very gently. “How old are you?”

“我二十二岁。但几个月后我就二十三岁了。为什么问这个?”

“I’m twenty-two. But I’ll be twenty-three in a few months. Why?”

“我只是想知道。” 马龙用一种奇怪的温柔声音说。

“I just wanted to know,” Malone said, in a curiously soft voice.

“这就说到现在了。” 海伦说,“你来芝加哥住在莫娜?麦克莱恩家。你从没见过也没听说过杰拉尔德?图伊兹。你对除夕夜被杀的那个人一无所知。然而,在昨晚一个古怪的时刻,你向我吐露说你杀了他们两个。”

“That brings us up to the present,” Helene said. “You came to Chicago to stay at Mona McClane’s. You’d never met nor heard of Gerald Tuesday. You don’t know anything about the man who was killed on New Year’s Eve. Yet in a cockeyed moment last night you confided to me that you’d slaughtered both of them.”

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“但我不可能杀了他们。” 罗斯?麦克劳林断言,“你不明白吗?人们不会四处去杀完全陌生的人。有教养的人不会这样。”

“But I couldn’t have,” Ross McLaurin declared. “Don’t you see? People don’t go around murdering perfect strangers. Not well-bred people.”

她又点了一支烟。“你心里有什么东西我们似乎撬不开。也许我们的方法不对。” 她转向杰克,“你怎么能指望一个清醒的人记得他喝醉时发生的事情呢?”

She lit another cigarette. “There’s something in your mind that we can’t seem to pry loose. Maybe we’re using the wrong approach.” She turned to Jake. “How can you expect a man when he’s sober to remember what happened when he was drunk?”

杰克摇了摇头。“他不可能记得。”

Jake shook his head. “He couldn’t.”

“那么唯一的办法就是让他像谋杀发生时那样醉得一塌糊涂。也许这样我们就能有所进展。”

“Then the only thing to do is to get him just as drunk as he was when these murders happened. Maybe we’ll get somewhere that way.”

马龙从窗户边转过身来。“你可能是对的。应该有一个特定的阶段,在这个阶段他会记得之前处于同一阶段时发生的所有事情。” 他从窗边的位置一跃而起,经过床边时拍了拍麦克劳林的肩膀,握了握杰克的手,在海伦的额头上响亮地亲了一下,然后消失在门外。

Malone wheeled around from the window. “You may be right. There should be a certain stage where he’ll remember everything that took place when he was at the same stage before.” He bounded from his place by the window, patted McLaurin’s shoulder as he passed the bed, shook Jake’s hand, kissed Helene noisily on the forehead, and vanished through the door.

罗斯?麦克劳林盯着他的背影。“告诉我一件事。在这个国家他们会对杀人犯做什么?”

Ross McLaurin stared after him. “Tell me something. What do they do to murderers in this country?”

“当他们有马龙做律师时,什么也不会做。” 海伦安慰道。

“Not a damned thing,” Helene said soothingly, “when they have Malone for a lawyer.”

他感激地对她笑了笑。“我似乎朋友很少。除了你们俩、马龙、洛特斯和莫娜?麦克莱恩。”

He smiled at her gratefully. “I seem to have so few friends. Except you two, and Malone, and Lotus, and Mona McClane.”

“对一个人来说这已经有很多朋友了。” 杰克说。

“That’s a lot of friends for one person,” Jake said.

五分钟后,马龙回来了,每只胳膊下都夹着一个用纸包着的瓶子。“现在也许我们能有点进展了。” 他得意地宣布,一边放下包裹,开始打开其中一个。“诀窍是不停地给他酒喝,直到他正好处于谋杀发生时的那种状态。然后他就能回答我们能想到的任何问题。”

小主,

Five minutes later Malone returned, a paper-wrapped bottle under each arm. “Now maybe we’ll get somewhere,” he announced triumphantly, as he set down the packages and began unwrapping one of them. “The trick is to feed him drinks until he hits exactly the stage he was in when the murders took place. Then he’ll be able to answer any questions we can think of.”

“如果,” 杰克沮丧地说,“到那时你还能想到要问的问题的话。”

“If,” Jake said gloomily, “you can think of any questions to ask by that time.”

他从马龙手里拿过打开的瓶子,打开瓶盖,往一个水杯里倒了两指高的黑麦威士忌。“喝了这个,麦克劳林。然后放松,剩下的就交给时间吧。”

He took the unwrapped bottle from Malone, uncapped it, and poured two fingers of rye into a water glass. “Drink this, McLaurin. Then relax and leave the rest to time.”

床上的年轻人用手指握住杯子。他两次把杯子举到嘴边,第二次的时候屏住了呼吸。

The young man on the bed curled his fingers around the glass. Twice he lifted it to his lips, holding his breath the second time.

“也许你更