chapter 18 the other man
i do not propose to describe either the inquest on lord edgware or that on carlotta adams. in carlotta’s case the verdict was death by misadventure. in the case of lord edgware the inquest was adjourned, after evidence of identification and the medical evidence had been given. as a result of the analysis of the stomach, the time of death was fixed as having occurred not less than an hour after the completion of dinner, with possible extension to an hour after that. this put it as between ten and eleven o’clock, with the probability in favour of the earlier time.
none of the facts concerning carlotta’s impersonation of jane wilkinson were allowed to leak out. a description of the wanted butler was published in the press, and the general impression seemed to be that the butler was the man wanted. his story of jane wilkinson’s visit was looked upon as an impudent fabrication. nothing was said of the secretary’s corroborating testimony. there were columns concerning the murder in all the papers, but little real information.
meanwhile japp was actively at work, i knew. it vexed me a little that poirot adopted such an inert attitude. the suspicion that approaching old age had something to do with it flashed across me – not for the first time. he made excuses to me which did not ring very convincingly.
‘at my time of life one saves oneself the trouble,’ he explained.
‘but, poirot, my dear fellow, you mustn’t think of yourself as old,’ i protested.
i felt that he needed bracing. treatment by suggestion – that, i know, is the modern idea.
‘you are as full of vigour as ever you were,’ i said earnestly. ‘you’re in the prime of life, poirot. at the height of your powers. you could go out and solve this case magnificently if you only would.’
poirot replied that he preferred to solve it sitting at home.
‘but you can’t do that, poirot.’
‘not entirely, it is true.’
‘what i mean is, we are doing nothing! japp is doing everything.’
‘which suits me admirably.’
‘it doesn’t suit me at all. i want you to be doing things.’
‘so i am.’
‘what are you doing?’
‘waiting.’
‘waiting for what?’
‘pour que mon chien de chasse me rapporte le gibier,’ replied poirot with a twinkle.
‘what do you mean?’
‘i mean the good japp. why keep a dog and bark yourself ? japp brings us here the result of the physical energy you admire so much. he has various means at his disposal which i have not. he will have news for us very soon, i do not doubt.’
by dint of persistent inquiry, it was true that japp was slowly getting together material. he had drawn a blank in paris, but a couple of days later he came in looking pleased with himself.
‘it’s slow work,’ he said. ‘but we’re getting somewhere at last.’
‘i congratulate you, my friend. what has happened?’
‘i’ve discovered that a fair-haired lady deposited an attaché-case in the cloak-room at euston at nine o’clock that night. they’ve been shown miss adams’ case and identify it positively. it’s of american make and so just a little different.’
‘ah! euston. yes, the nearest of the big stations to regent gate. she went there doubtless, made herself up in the lavatory, and then left the case. when was it taken out again?’
‘at half-past ten. the clerk says by the same lady.’ poirot nodded. ‘and i’ve come on something else too. i’ve reason to believe that carlotta adams was in lyons corner house in the strand at eleven o’clock.’
‘ah! c’est três bien ?a! how did you come across that?’
‘well, really more or less by chance. you see, there’s been a mention in the papers of the little gold box with the ruby initials. some reporter wrote it up – he was doing an article on the prevalence of dope-taking among young actresses. sunday paper romantic stuff. the fatal little gold box with its deadly contents – pathetic figure of a young girl with all the world before her! and just a wonder expressed as to where she passed her last evening and how she felt and so on and so on.
‘well, it seems a waitress at the corner house read this and she remembered that a lady she had served that evening had had such a box in her hand. she remembered the c.a. on it. and she got excited and began talking to all her friends – perhaps a paper would give her something?
‘a young newspaper man soon got on to it and there’s going to be a good sobstuff article in tonight’s evening shriek. the last hours of the talented actress. waiting – for the man who never came – and a good bit about the actress’s sympathetic intuition that something was not well with her sister woman. you know the kind of bilge, m. poirot?’
‘and how has it come to your ears so quickly?’
‘oh! well, we’re on very good terms with the evening shriek. it got passed on to me while their particular bright young man tried to get some news out of me about something else. so i rushed along to the corner house straight away –’
yes, that was the way things ought to be done. i felt a pang of pity for poirot. here was japp getting all this news at first hand – quite possibly missing valuable details, and here was poirot placidly content with stale news.
‘i saw the girl – and i don’t think there’s much doubt about it. she couldn’t pick out carlotta adams’ photograph, but then she said she didn’t notice the lady’s face particularly. she was young and dark and slim, and very well dressed, the girl said. had got on one of the new hats. i wish women looked at faces a bit more and hats a bit less.’
‘the face of miss adams is not an easy one to observe,’ said poirot. ‘it had the mobility, the sensitiveness – the fluid quality.’
‘i daresay you’re right. i don’t go in for analysing these things. dressed in black the lady was, so the girl said, and she had an attaché-case with her. the girl noticed that particularly, because it struck her as odd that a lady so well dressed should be carrying a case about. she ordered some scrambled eggs and some coffee, but the girl thinks she was putting in time and waiting for someone. she’d got a wrist-watch on and she kept looking at it. it was when the girl came to give her the bill that she noticed the box. the lady took it out of her handbag and had it on the table looking at it. she opened the lid and shut it down again. she was smiling in a pleased dreamy sort of way. the girl noticed the box particularly because it was such a lovely thing. “i’d like to have a gold box with my initials in rubies on it!” she said.
‘apparently miss adams sat there some time after paying her bill. then, finally, she looked at her watch once more, seemed to give it up and went out.’
poirot was frowning.
‘it was a rendez-vous,’ he murmured. ‘a rendez-vous with someone who did not turn up. did carlotta adams meet that person afterwards? or did she fail to meet him and go home and try to ring him up? i wish i knew – oh! how i wish i knew.’
‘that’s your theory, m. poirot. mysterious manin-the-background. that man-in-the-background’s a myth. i don’t say she mayn’t have been waiting for someone – that’s possible. she may have made an appointment to meet someone there after her business with his lordship was settled satisfactorily. well, we know what happened. she lost her head and stabbed him. but she’s not one to lose her head for long. she changes her appearance at the station, gets out the case, goes to the rendezvous, and then what they call the “reaction” gets her. horror of what she’d done. and when her friend doesn’t turn up, that finished her. he may be someone who knew she was going to regent gate that evening. she feels the game’s up. so she takes out her little box of dope. an overdose of that and it’ll be all over. at any rate she won’t be hanged. why, it’s as plain as the nose on your face.’
poirot’s hand strayed doubtfully to his nose, then his fingers dropped to his moustaches. he caressed them tenderly with a proud expression.
‘there was no evidence at all of a mysterious manin-the-background,’ said japp, pursuing his advantage doggedly. ‘i haven’t got evidence yet of a connection between her and his lordship, but i shall do – it’s only a question of time. i must say i’m disappointed about paris, but nine months ago is a long time. i’ve still got someone making inquiries over there. something may come to light yet. i know you don’t think so. you’re a pig-headed old boy, you know.’
‘you insult first my nose and then my head!’
‘figure of speech, that’s all,’ said japp soothingly. ‘no offence meant.’
‘the answer to that,’ i said, ‘is “nor taken.”’ poirot looked from one to the other of us completely puzzled.
‘any orders?’ inquired japp facetiously from the door. poirot smiled forgivingly at him.
‘an order, no. a suggestion – yes.’
‘well, what is it? out with it.’
‘a suggestion that you circularize the taxi-cabs. find one that took a fare – or more probably two fares – yes, two fares – from the neighbourhood of covent garden to regent gate on the night of the murder. as to time it would probably be about twenty minutes to eleven.’
japp cocked an eye alertly. he had the look of a smart terrier dog.
‘so, that’s the idea, is it?’ he said. ‘well, i’ll do it. can’t do any harm – and you sometimes know what you’re talking about.’
no sooner had he left than poirot arose and with great energy began to brush his hat.
‘ask me no questions, my friend. instead bring me the benzine. a morsel of omelette this morning descended on my waistcoat.’
i brought it to him.
‘for once,’ i said. ‘i do not think i need to ask questions. it seems fairly obvious. but do you think it really is so?’
‘mon ami, at the moment i concern myself solely with the toilet. if you will pardon me saying so, your tie does not please me.’
‘it’s a jolly good tie,’ i said.
‘possibly – once. it feels the old age as you have been kind enough to say i do. change it, i beseech you, and also brush the right sleeve.’
‘are we proposing to call on king george?’ i inquired sarcastically.
‘no. but i saw in the newspaper this morning that the duke of merton had returned to merton house. i understand he is a premier member of the english aristocracy. i wish to do him all honour.’
there is nothing of the socialist about poirot. ‘why are we going to call on the duke of merton?’
‘i wish to see him.’
that was all i could get out of him. when my attire was at last handsome enough to please poirot’s critical eye, we started out.
at merton house, poirot was asked by a footman if he had an appointment. poirot replied in the negative. the footman bore away the card and returned shortly to say that his grace was very sorry but he was extremely busy this morning. poirot immediately sat down in a chair.
‘trés bien,’ he said. ‘i wait. i will wait several hours if need be.’
this, however, was not necessary. probably as the shortest way of getting rid of the importunate caller, poirot was bidden to the presence of the gentleman he desired to see.
the duke was about twenty-seven years of age. he was hardly prepossessing in appearance, being thin and weakly. he had nondescript thin hair going bald at the temples, a small bitter mouth and vague dreamy eyes. there were several crucifixes in the room and various religious works of art. a wide shelf of books seemed to contain nothing but theological works. he looked far more like a weedy young haberdasher than like a duke. he had, i knew, been educated at home, having been a terribly delicate child. this was the man who had fallen an immediate prey to jane wilkinson! it was really ludicrous in the extreme. his manner was priggish and his reception of us just short of courteous.
‘you may, perhaps, know my name,’ began poirot. ‘i have no acquaintance with it.’
‘i study the psychology of crime.’
the duke was silent. he was sitting at a writing-table, an unfinished letter before him. he tapped impatiently on the desk with his pen.
‘for what reason do you wish to see me?’ he inquired coldly.
poirot was sitting opposite him. his back was to the window. the duke was facing it.
‘i am at present engaged on investigating the circumstances connected with lord edgware’s death.’
not a muscle of the weak but obstinate face moved.
‘indeed? i was not acquainted with him.’
‘but you are, i think, acquainted with his wife – with miss jane wilkinson?’
‘that is so.’
‘you are aware that she is supposed to have had a strong motive for desiring the death of her husband?’
‘i am really not aware of anything of the kind.’
‘i should like to ask you outright, your grace. are you shortly going to marry miss jane wilkinson?’
‘when i am engaged to marry anyone the fact will be announced in the newspapers. i consider your question an impertinence.’ he stood up. ‘good morning.’
poirot stood up also. he looked awkward. he hung his head. he stammered.
‘i did not mean . . . i . . . je vous demande pardon . . .’
‘good morning,’ repeated the duke, a little louder.
this time poirot gave it up. he made a characteristic gesture of hopelessness, and we left. it was an ignominious dismissal.
i felt rather sorry for poirot. his usual bombast had not gone well. to the duke of merton a great detective was evidently lower than a black beetle.
‘that didn’t go too well,’ i said sympathetically. ‘what a stiff-necked tartar that man is. what did you really want to see him for?’
‘i wanted to know whether he and jane wilkinson are really going to marry.’
‘she said so.’
‘ah! she said so. but, you realize, she is one of those who say anything that suits their purpose. she might have decided to marry him and he – poor man – might not yet be aware of the fact.’
‘well, he certainly sent you away with a flea in the ear.’
‘he gave me the reply he would give to a reporter – yes.’ poirot chuckled. ‘but i know! i know exactly how the case stands.’
‘how do you know? by his manner?’
‘not at all. you saw he was writing a letter?’
‘yes.’
‘eh bien, in my early days in the police force in belgium i learned that it was very useful to read handwriting upside down. shall i tell you what he was saying in that letter? “my dearest jane, my adored, my beautiful angel, how can i tell you what you are to me? you who have suffered so much! your beautiful nature –”’
‘poirot!’ i cried, scandalized, stopping him.
‘that was as far as he had got. “your beautiful nature – only i know it.”’
i felt very upset. he was so naively pleased with his performance.
‘poirot,’ i cried. ‘you can’t do a thing like that. overlook a private letter.’
‘you say the imbecilities, hastings. absurd to say i “cannot do” a thing which i have just done!’
‘it’s not – not playing the game.’
‘i do not play games. you know that. murder is not a game. it is serious. and anyway, hastings, you should not use that phrase – playing the game. it is not said any more. i have discovered that. it is dead. young people laugh when they hear it. mais oui, young beautiful girls will laugh at you if you say “playing the game” and “not cricket”.’
i was silent. i could not bear this thing that poirot had done so light-heartedly.
‘it was so unnecessary,’ i said. ‘if you had only told him that you had gone to lord edgware at jane wilkinson’s request, then he would have treated you very differently.’
‘ah! but i couldn’t do that. jane wilkinson was my client. i cannot speak of my client’s affairs to another. i undertake a mission in confidence. to speak of it would not be honourable.’
‘honourable!’
‘precisely.’
‘but she’s going to marry him?’
‘that does not mean that she has no secrets from him. your ideas about marriage are very old-fashioned. no, what you suggest, i couldn’t possibly have done. i have my honour as a detective to think of. the honour, it is a very serious thing.’
‘well, i suppose it takes all kinds of honour to make a world.’
第十八章 另一个人
关于埃奇韦尔男爵及卡洛塔·亚当斯案件的侦讯。我不打算一一详述了。关于卡洛塔的案子，庭上裁定是过失死亡。关于埃奇韦尔男爵的案子，决定延期裁定。要等到有关认定和医学证据提供以后。根据肠胃化验结果分析，死亡时间是饭后一小时左右”就是十点到十一点之间，有可能是在早一些时侯。
关于卡洛塔假扮简·威尔金森一事，方不许泄露一点消息。报上已将通缉的管家相貌描述登在报纸上，方面印象都以为那管家是通缉的凶手。他所说的简·威尔金森来访一事纯属捏造。至于说那女秘书的证实管家所说的话，字未提。各种报纸都用很大篇幅报道这件凶杀案，并没有什么实际内容。
我知道，时候，普一定忙得不可开交。我很着急，洛采取一种丝毫不动的态度。有时候，觉得他可能真是老了一这种疑心已经不是第一次了。虽然他找了一些借口，听起来并不使人信服。
他这样解释道：“到了我这年纪，烦事能免就免。”
“可是。波洛，的好伙计，不要想自己老了啊！”我抱怨他道。
我觉得他需要鼓励。我知道——激励疗法，种现代说法。
“你精力旺盛，如当年。”我真挚地说，波洛，正值壮年，当是精力充沛的时候。只要你愿意，会一出马，将这案子漂漂亮亮地侦破了。”
波洛回答说，他宁愿坐在家中破这个案子。
“可是，波洛，你不能那么做。”
“当然，不能完全那么做。”
“我觉得，我们什么都没干；而贾普却样样都在做。”
“这正合我意。”
“可这不合我意。我要让你做些事情。”
“我是在做啊！”
“你在做什么？”
“等待。”
“等待什么？”
“等待我的猎狗嗅出猎物的痕迹啊。”波洛眨着眼睛说。
“我是指那个好贾普。为什么有猎狗，自己还要叫呢？贾普会将你所喜欢的出去活动，花费体力所得到的结果拿给我们。他做事有各种便利，而我没有。我有把握，他不久就会有好消息带来。”
不错，经过不断侦查，贾普是在一点一点收集资料。巴黎之行毫无结果。但过了几天。他又来了，看样子很得意。
“工作进展得很慢，”他说。“但最终我们有点结果了。”
“恭喜你，我的朋友。又发生了什么？”
“我发现有一位金发女郎在那天晚上九点的时候，在尤斯顿车站的衣帽间寄存了一只手提包。我们把亚当斯小姐的手提包拿给他们看，他们确认是那一只。那一只是美国制造的，所以和我们常用的有一点不同。”
“啊！尤斯顿！那是去摄政门最近的一个大站。毫无疑问。她在那儿的洗手间里化好装，然后将手提包存在那儿。那么，她什么时候去取包的呢？”
“在十点半钟。那个服务员说，是同一位女士取的。”
波洛点点头。
“我还得到了其它的消息。我有理由确信十一点的时候，卡洛塔·亚当斯在滨河街的一家叫雷恩斯。科纳的饭店里。”
“啊！这是个好消息！你怎么知道的？”
“晤，其实是偶然发现的。你想，报上登过文章提到那个镶宝石字母的金匣子。有个记者写到那个——是谈到女演员服用麻醉剂之风盛行的。常见的那种周末版浪漫材料。致命的金匣子装着致命的东西——一位大有前途的年轻女子的惨剧！里面提出疑问。她死前在哪度过的那一夜，以及她感觉如何等等。
“那么，好像是一位科纳饭店女招待读到了这篇文章。她记得那天晚上她曾伺候过一位女士，女士手里拿着那个匣子。她还记得上面刻着c·a。她很兴奋，就与她所有的朋友讲这件事，也许某个报馆会出钱买她的消息。
“一位年轻的记者不久就访问到这个消息了，今天的《趣闻晚报》上就会登出一篇催人泪下的文章。一位天才女演员死前之景——等待，等待那个根本没来的人，以及女演员自己觉得与同性朋友关系不好之类的话。波洛先生，你是了解这类无聊文字的，是不是？”
“你怎么这么快就得到这消息了。”
“晤，是这样，我与《趣闻晚报》的记者关系不错。他们报馆里有一位挺聪明的年轻记者要向我打听另一个案子的消巨，无意中就透露了这个消息。所以我就立刻赶到科纳饭店——”
是的，我就是以为该这么做事的。我为波洛感到一阵惋惜。贾普正在多方面直接收集材料——虽然可能遗漏有价值的详细情况。而波洛却坐等着过时的消息，心中还满知足的。
“我见了那女子——但我没觉得她讲的有任何疑问。她可以找出卡洛塔·亚当斯的照片，但她说她没特别注意那女子的相貌。那女孩说，她很年轻。皮肤褐色，身材纤细，衣着讲究。她还戴着一顶新帽子。我真希望女招待多看看那女士的脸，少看一点她的帽子。”
“亚当斯小姐的脸是不容易认的，”波洛说，“她的脸多变，敏感，而且有一种浮动的东西。”
“我想你是对的。我不喜欢分析这类事情。那位女招待说她身着黑衣，随身带着一个手提包。那女招待之所以注意这个包，是因为她觉得很奇怪，一位衣着如此考究的人怎么带着这么个手提包走来走去。她要了一份炒蛋、一杯咖啡。不过那女招待认为她是在消磨时间，等着什么人。她戴着一块手表，不住地看着表。当女招待拿给她账单的时候，注意到了那个匣子。客人打开提包，将匣子取出来，放在桌子上看。她将盖子打开，又关上了。她带着得意的、梦幻般的表情。满脸笑容。因为那匣子非常可爱，所以女招待特别注惹到了。她说；‘我真想有一个匣子，上面用红宝石镶着我自己的名字。’”
“很显然，卡洛塔·亚当斯付了账以后又在那坐了一会。最后，她又一次看看表，好像最终决定不再等了，就走出去了。”
波洛皱着眉头。
“那是一个约会”，他低声说道，“但是约会的人没来。过后卡洛塔·亚当斯又见到那个人了吗？或者是她没见到他就自己回家了，然后又想给他打电话？我真希望自己知道，啊，但愿我知道。”
“波洛先生，只是你的假定。神奇的幕后人物。那位幕后人物是虚幻的。我并不认为她没在等人——那是可能的。她也许和什么人约好了，她同男爵的事情圆满解决后，在那里见他。那么，们知道又发生了什么事，一时失去理智杀了他。但她并非一个会长时间失去理智的人。她在车站换好外装。取出化妆箱去赴约。然后所谓犯罪后的‘反应’开始出现，对自己的行为后怕了。而她的那位朋友又没来，整个地崩溃了。那个朋友可能知道她晚上去摄政门。她觉得已露马脚，把那小匣的麻醉晶取出来。不管怎样，不会愿意被绞死的，是显而易见的事。”
波洛怀疑地用手摸着鼻子。又去摸他的胡子。他很自豪地抚弄着自己的胡子。
“关于那位神秘的‘幕后人物’，惜没有证据，贾普仍顽固地趁机大发议论，我还不能证明她与男爵的关系。但我会找到证据的一那只是时间问题。我得说，对巴黎之行极为失望，毕竞九个月前的事是太久远了点儿。我在那里仍派了个人继续查询。也许会有新发现的。我知道你不会这样认为。你知道吗？你是个顽固不化的家伙。”
“你先侮辱我的鼻子，在又是我的头脑！”
“只不过是比喻而已，贾普安慰他道，并不含有恶意。”
“要是回答的话”，我插嘴道，“是‘不会接受。’”
波洛看看他，又瞧瞧我。迷惑不解的样子。
“还有什么吩咐吗？”贾普在门口滑稽地问。波洛很宽容地对他笑了笑。
“吩咐？没有。倒是有一个建议。”
“呃？是什么？说吧。”
“我建议你将案子的事告诉司机。看看案发那天晚上有谁载过客人。或是一趟，或是两趟。去过摄政门附近的花园。是的，大概会是两趟。至于说时间，大概是在十点四十分左右。”
贾普警觉地用眼睛盯着他，活像一条机警的猎狗。
“原来是这个主意。是不是？”他说道，“好吧。我来做。没有什么坏处的——你说话有时是很有道理的。”
他刚一离开，波洛就一下子站起来，非常起劲地刷着他的帽子。
“我的朋友，别问我什么问题了。还是把清洁剂递给我吧。今天上午，有一点炒蛋弄脏了我的背心。”
我将清洁剂递给了他。
“这一次，”我说道，“我不用问了。看起来很明显的。但你真这样认为吗？”
“我的朋友啊，现在我正全心打扮呢。如果让我说的话，你的领带，我实在不敢恭维。”
“这可是一条好领带呢。”我说道。
“当然了，过去曾是。只是旧了，老了，如同你说我老了一样。换了吧，求你了。将右边的袖子再刷一刷。”
“难道我们要进官觐见国王吗？”我讥讽道。
“不是。但是今天上午报上讲，默顿公爵已经回默顿府了。我知道他是英国贵族社会中的顶尖人物，我想去表达敬意。”
波洛可不是什么社交人物。
“我们为什么要去拜访默顿公爵呢？”
“我想见他。”
我从他那能问到的就是这些了。待我换了装束，合了波洛的口味，我们就出发了。
在默顿府，门房问波洛是否预约过。波洛说没有。门房拿过去名片，很快又返回说，他的主人很抱歉，因为今天上午他很忙。波洛立即坐在一把椅子上。
“好的，”他说道，“那我就等着吧。等几个小时都行。”
然而，根本不用等了。大概打发不速之客的最好办法是马上见他，所以波洛被请人去见他要见的绅士。
公爵大约有二十七岁。因为很瘦弱，他看起来并不讨人喜欢。他长着一头难以形容的头发，两鬓秃秃的。还有一张小小的、刻薄的嘴，以及空洞、梦幻般的眼睛。房间中有好几个十字架，和各种宗教艺术品。在一个宽大的书架上，摆着的书籍，除了宗教作品以外，什么都没有。他的样子一点也不像个公爵，倒像个不中用的年轻杂货商。我知道，他是在家自己接受教育的，是一个相当幼稚的孩子。这就是一个落入简·威尔金森陷阱的人！真是可笑到极点了。他的态度很傲气，他与我们说话的态度，也略欠客气。
波洛先说话道；“您可能听说过我的名字。”
“我没听说过。”
“我研究犯罪心理。”
公爵沉默不语。他坐在写字桌旁，桌上摆着一封未写完的信。他不耐烦地用笔敲着桌子。
“您为什么想见我？”他冷冷地问道。
波洛坐在他对面，背靠窗子。而公爵面对着窗子。
“我目前正着手调查埃奇韦尔男爵被杀一案。”
那张瘦弱且顽固的脸上，肌肉一丝未动。
“是吗？我不认识他。”
“但是，我想，您认识他的太太——简·威尔金森小姐。”
“是的。”
“您知道她非常希望她丈夫死去吗？”
“我实在不知道这类事情。”
“爵爷，我要直截了当地问您了，您是不是很快要与简·威尔金森小姐结婚了？”
“如果我决定与什么人定婚，报纸上会登出来的。我认为您的问题太鲁莽了。”他站起来说道，“再见。”
波洛也站了起来。他低着头，显得很窘迫。他摇着头，结结巴巴地说；
“我并不是——我——我请您原谅……”
“再见。”公爵又一次略提高声音说道。
这回，波洛是作罢了。他做出绝望的姿态，我们便离开了。这种逐客方式让人下不来台。
我为波洛感到难过。他平素那种轰炸式质问行不通了。
在默顿公爵面前，一位伟大的侦探比一只黑甲虫还微不足道。
“进行得真不顺利。”我同情地说，“这个人真是顽固不化。你究竟为什么要见他呢？”
“我想知道他是否要和简·威尔金森结婚。”
“她是这样说过的。”
“啊！她是这么说。但是，你要注意到，她属于那种为达目的，什么话都会说的人。她也许决定要嫁给他，但是他——可怜的人——可能还未看出实情。”
“不过，他可是不客气地将你逐出门了。”
“他回答我的样子，如同回答记者一样。是的。”波洛笑着说，“但我清楚了。我清楚了目前的情形。”
“你怎么知道的？通过他的态度？”
“不是。你看他在写一封信吗？”
“是的。”
“那么好，我在比利时当警察的时侯。曾发现倒认文字是很有用的。他在那封信上写什么，要不要我给你念念，我最最亲爱的简”所崇拜的、美丽的天使。我如何来形容你对我的重要？你受了这么多的苦！你美好的天性——”
“波洛！”我叫道，得这种方法不地道，阻止他。
“他就写到这，那美好的天性——惟有我知。，
我感到很不自在。他倒对自己的行为感到一种天真的喜悦。
“波洛，我喊道，你不该那样，看他人私人信函。”
“黑斯廷斯，专门讲傻话。说我。不该做，件已经做了的事不可笑吗？”
“这不是儿戏。”
“我没在玩游戏。你知道的。这是严肃的，斯廷斯。不管怎么说，不该用这么个词——做游戏。别再这么说了。我觉得这词早不用了。年轻人听了会笑话的。是的，果你说‘做游戏’或是‘不公平’，孩子们听了会笑你的。”
我缄默不语。波洛做出这种事，可不能轻松地接受。
“根本没有必要，”他说道，如果你对他说你受简·威尔金森之托去了埃奇韦尔男爵那里，就会用另一种态度待你的。”
“啊！我不能那么做。简·威尔金森是我的主顾。我不能将主顾的事说给其他人听。我是受秘密委托的。说了可就没有名誉了。”
“名誉？”
“是的。”
“但她要嫁给他了，不是吗？”
“那不等于说她在他面前没有一丝秘密了。你关于婚姻的观念是很古老的。不能那样，你所建议的，我不能那么做。我得顾到自己做侦探的名誉。你知道，名誉可是个严肃的词。”
“晤，我想这个世界要由各种名誉构成的。”
