马龙探案卷四 之 正确的凶案 十八
“请努力回想一下，” 海伦恳求道，“这是为了帮你，你知道的。”
“please try to remember,” helene begged. “It’s to help you, you know.”
“我在努力，” 罗斯?麦克劳林疲倦地说，“但没用。我就是什么都想不起来。”
“I am trying,” Ross mcLaurin said wearily. “but it isn’t any use. I simply can’t remember anything.”
马龙叹了口气。“让他休息吧，海伦。”
malone sighed. “Let him rest, helene.”
杰克又倒了一杯咖啡。“别着急，孩子。也许你会想起来的。”
Jake poured another cup of coffee. “take your time, kid. maybe it’ll e to you.”
快到下午五点了。在这段时间里，这个脸色苍白的年轻人已经了解了前一天晚上发生的事情、他对海伦说的话以及杰拉尔德?图伊兹在除夕夜被谋杀以及在天使乔的酒吧里死去的那个人的情况。
It was nearly five in the afternoon. In the intervening time the pale young man had been acquainted with the events of the night before, with his statements to helene, and with the circumstances of the murder of Gerald tuesday and the man who had died in Joe the Angel’s bar on New Year’s Eve.
罗斯?麦克劳林把空咖啡杯放在床头柜上。“这对我来说都是新闻。” 他最后说。
Ross mcLaurin set the empty coffee cup down on the bed table. “It’s all news to me,” he said at last.
海伦在他身边坐下。“听着，罗斯。除夕夜你做了什么？”
helene sat down beside him. “Listen, Ross. what did you do on New Year’s Eve?”
他皱起眉头。“我们有一群人。我前一天刚到城里。让我想想。有莫娜、文宁夫妇、洛特斯，还有一个非常爱慕莫娜的电影演员 —— 不过他很早就走了，十点得赶飞机。” 他揉着额头。“他的名字 —— 让我想想。你知道的，我对美国演员不是很熟悉。” 他想了一会儿，然后说出一个让他们都吃了一惊的名字。“还有怀特小姐、彭德利?泰德韦尔，还有一个从东部来的年轻人，他老围着洛特斯转，让我很生气。”
he wrinkled his brow. “there was a party of us. I’d just arrived in town the day before. Let me think. there was mona, and the Vennings, and Lotus, and some movie-actor chap who was very devoted to mona—he left early though, had to catch a plane at ten.” he rubbed his brow. “his name—let’s see. I’m not very familiar with American actors, you know.” he thought for a minute and then mentioned a name that made them all blink. “And miss white, and pendley tidewell, and a young chap from the East who made me angry hanging around Lotus.”
“你们去了哪里？” 马龙问道。
“where did you go?” malone asked.
“我们在某个俱乐部吃了晚饭，然后在赌场喝了几杯，接着去了谢尔曼酒店的黑豹厅。我想那就是它的名字，对吧？” 他又皱起眉头。“那时我有点晕乎乎的。很奇怪，但我不记得我确切是什么时候开始不记得事情的了，如果你明白我的意思的话。有晚餐，有黑豹厅，然后事情就变得模糊了。我记得在一辆出租车里吻了洛特斯，但我想那是在从俱乐部出来的路上。还有就是我一个人在某个奇怪的酒吧里。就这些。” 他沉默了一会儿。“不，还有别的事情，但我就是想不起来。我不知道那是什么。但那是很可怕、很恐怖的事情。”
“we had dinner at some club, and then stopped at the casino for a few drinks, and then we went to the panther Room at the Sherman. I guess that’s the name, isn’t it?” he wrinkled his brow again. “I was a little dizzy by that time. It’s funny, but I can’t remember the exact time when I stopped remembering, if you know what I mean. there was dinner, and the panther Room, and then things get vague. I remember kissing Lotus in a cab, but I guess that was on the way down from the club. Something about being in some strange bar all by myself. that’s all.” he was silent for a moment. “No, there is something else, but I can’t just put my finger on it. I don’t know what it was. but it was something horrible, ghastly.”
“那就是谋杀。” 海伦告诉他。
“that was the murder,” helene told him.
他虚弱地对她笑了笑。“但是，我亲爱的年轻女士，我这辈子从没认识过符合马龙先生给我描述的人。从来没有。”
he smiled wanly at her. “but, my dear young lady, I never knew anyone who answered the description mr. malone gave me. Never in my life.”
“好吧，” 马龙温和地说，“别想了。那昨天呢？”
“All right,” malone said gently, “let it go. what about yesterday?”
“我醒来的时候感觉不太舒服。我非常……”—— 他似乎在找一个词 ——“非常宿醉未醒。”
“I woke up not feeling very well. I was terribly”—he seemed to be looking for a word—“terribly hung over.”
“你再说一遍？” 杰克问。
“how’s that again?” Jake asked.
“没关系，” 海伦说，“这个词用得恰到好处。继续。”
“Never mind,” helene said. “It’s exactly the right word. Go on.”
“非常沮丧。该死，我不知道为什么，但我就是这样。所以我起床后喝了几杯。听着，我不是在为喝醉找借口，但我确实很沮丧。”
“Very depressed. damned if I know why, but I was. So I took a few drinks when I got up. Look here, I’m not making excuses for getting drunk, but I was depressed.”
“没关系，” 杰克说，“有五百万个理由，这和其他任何理由一样好。”
“that’s all right,” Jake said. “there’s five million reasons, and that’s as good a one as any.”
“但是到午饭的时候我感觉好多了，有点兴奋，但还不错。午饭后我又感到沮丧和非常孤独。你知道的。就像那只老鸟在柱子上待了那么久。西蒙什么的。”
“but by lunchtime I felt pretty good,” the young man went on, “a little buzzy, but pretty good. After lunch I felt depressed again and very solitary. You know. Like the old bird who stayed up on the pillar all that time. Simon Something-or-other.”
“最初的旗杆静坐者，” 马龙说，“你做了什么，爬上了一根电线杆吗？”
“the original flagpole sitter,” malone said. “what did you do, go climb up a telephone pole?”
罗斯?麦克劳林咧嘴一笑，“我回到我的房间又喝了几杯。” 笑容消失了。“我不记得了 —— 事情又变得模糊了。最近不知为什么，我似乎忘记了我喝酒的时候发生的事情。昨天……” 他皱起眉头。“我和洛特斯说了几句话。不记得说了什么。还有别的事情。关于一个男人 —— 我想他是黑头发，卷发，戴着眼镜。”
Ross mcLaurin grinned, “I went up to my room and had a few drinks.” the grin faded. “I don’t—things get vague again. For some reason lately I seem to forget what happened when I was drinking. Yesterday—” he frowned. “I had a word with Lotus. don’t recall what about. there’s something else, too. About a man—he was black-haired, I think, curly hair, and he wore eyeglasses.”
“那是图伊兹。” 马龙说。
“that was tuesday,” malone said.
这个年轻人绝望地做了个手势。“我告诉你，我这辈子从没认识过一个叫杰拉尔德?图伊兹的人。你认为我会忘记认识一个叫杰拉尔德?图伊兹的人吗？”
the young man made a despairing gesture. “I tell you I never knew a tuesday in my life. do you think I’d forget knowing a man named Gerald tuesday?”
“别担心，” 海伦安慰道，“接着说昨天的事。”
“don’t worry about it,” helene said soothingly. “Go on about yesterday.”
“就这些了，” 罗斯?麦克劳林疲倦地说，“没有别的了。就好像我一直在睡觉。不，等等。还有一件事。等等……”
“that’s all,” Ross mcLaurin said wearily. “there just isn’t anything else. It’s as though I’d been sleeping all that time. No, wait. there is something. wait—”
他们等着，紧张得喘不过气来。
they waited, and breathlessly.
“我想起来了，” 他得意地说，“我想起我背诵了吉卜林的《靴子》。”
“I remember,” he said triumphantly. “I remember reciting Kipling’s boots.”
六十秒后，海伦说：“太棒了！现在你能告诉我第二节怎么背吗？我一直想知道。”
After sixty seconds helene said. “wonderful! Now can you tell me how the second verse goes? I’ve always wanted to know.”
“我很乐意。是……” 年轻人靠在枕头上，自言自语道，“恐怕我忘了。”
“I’ll be glad to. It’s—” the young man lay back on his pillow, muttering to himself. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten it.”
“也许你从第一节开始背，然后引出第二节，” 海伦满怀希望地建议道。
“maybe if you started with the first verse and led into it,” helene suggested hopefully.
罗斯?麦克劳林张了几次嘴，最后说：“对不起，我一点都想不起来了。不过是关于靴子的什么。”
Ross mcLaurin opened his mouth once or twice, finally said, “I’m sorry, I can’t recall any of it. Something about boots, though.”
马龙气愤地咒骂着，说：“也许我们应该休会去公共图书馆。你就不能再想起点昨天的事吗？”
malone swore indignantly and said, “maybe we ought to adjourn to the public Library. can’t you remember anything more about yesterday?”
罗斯?麦克劳林盯着天花板看了很久。“一点都想不起来了，” 他最后说。
Ross mcLaurin looked at the ceiling for a long time. “Not a thing,” he said at last.
海伦转向小律师。“也许如果……”
helene turned to the little lawyer. “maybe if—”
马龙示意她别说话。“听着，麦克劳林，” 他非常肯定地说，“114 这个数字是什么意思？”
malone gestured her to silence. “Listen, mcLaurin.” he said very positively. “what does the number one-fourteen mean?”
年轻人盯着他。“114。114。我不知道。它有什么特别的意思吗？”
the young man stared at him. “one-fourteen. one-fourteen. I don’t know. Is it supposed to mean anything?”
“没关系，” 马龙说，“当你想到钥匙的时候，你会想到什么？”
“Never mind,” malone said. “what do you think of when you think of a key?”
“钥匙孔，” 罗斯?麦克劳林立刻回答道。
“A keyhole,” Ross mcLaurin said promptly.
马龙叹了口气。“不，不，不。某个特定的钥匙。”
malone sighed. “No, no, no. Some specific key.”
麦克劳林想了一会儿。“钥匙湾？” 他热心地提议道。
mcLaurin thought for a moment. “Key west?” he suggested helpfully.
“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.”
“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.”
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.”
“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.”
“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。”
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.
“也许你更喜欢波本威士忌。” 海伦焦急地说。她打开瓶子，找到另一个杯子，倒了半杯，递了过去。
“maybe you’d rather have bourbon,” helene said anxiously. She unwrapped the bottle, found another glass, half filled it and handed it over.
马龙低声咒骂着高雅的品味，冲出门去，沿着走廊来到自己的房间，拿着半瓶杜松子酒和一整瓶苏格兰威士忌回来了。
malone muttered something profane about educated tastes, darted out the door and down the hall to his own room, returning with a half bottle of gin and a full bottle of Scotch.
年轻人尝了尝苏格兰威士忌，脸色变得更加苍白，把它推到一边，拿起那杯杜松子酒，小心翼翼地抿了一口，然后把杯子放在床头柜上。
the young man tried the Scotch, turned a shade more pale and shoved it aside, took the glass of gin, managed one tentative sip, and set the glass down on the bed table.
“对不起，恐怕我就是喝不下去。” 他看起来非常难过和歉疚。“我很愿意帮你们，但是我就是做不到。我不能喝酒。我这辈子再也不碰这东西了。”
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I just can’t get it down.” he looked deeply sorry and apologetic. “I’d be glad to help you, but I just can’t do it. I can’t drink. I’ll never touch the stuff again as long as I live.”