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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
She rose suddenly to her feet. All the intense emotion that the lawyer had been conscious of in the atmosphere was now concentrated in her tone.
‘I hate him, I tell you! I hate him. I hate him, I hate him! I would like to see him hanged by the neck till he is dead.’
She advanced a step nearer, and continued vehemently3:
‘Perhaps I shall see it. Supposing I tell you that he did not come in that night at twenty past nine, but at twenty past ten? You say that he tells you he knew nothing about the money coming to him. Supposing I tell you he knew all about it, and counted on it, and committed murder to get it? Supposing I tell you that he admitted to me that night when he came in what he had done? That there was blood on his coat? What then? Supposing that I stand up in court and say all these things?’
Her eyes seemed to challenge him. With an effort, he concealed4 his growing dismay, and endeavoured to speak in a rational tone.
‘You cannot be asked to give evidence against your own husband –’
‘He is not my husband!’
The words came out so quickly that he fancied he had misunderstood her.
‘I beg your pardon? I –’
‘He is not my husband.’
The silence was so intense that you could have heard a pin drop.
‘I was an actress in Vienna. My husband is alive but in a madhouse. So we could not marry. I am glad now.’
‘I should like you to tell me one thing,’ said Mr Mayherne. He contrived6 to appear as cool and unemotional as ever. ‘Why are you so bitter against Leonard Vole?’
She shook her head, smiling a little.
‘Yes, you would like to know. But I shall not tell you. I will keep my secret …’
Mr Mayherne gave his dry little cough and rose.
‘There seems no point in prolonging this interview,’ he remarked. ‘You will hear from me again after I have communicated with my client.’
She came closer to him, looking into his eyes with her own wonderful dark ones.
‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘did you believe – honestly – that he was innocent when you came here today?’
‘I did,’ said Mr Mayherne.
‘You poor little man,’ she laughed.
‘And I believe so still,’ finished the lawyer. ‘Good evening, madam.’
He went out of the room, taking with him the memory of her startled face.
‘This is going to be the devil of a business,’ said Mr Mayherne to himself as he strode along the street.
Extraordinary, the whole thing. An extraordinary woman. A very dangerous woman. Women were the devil when they got their knife into you.
What was to be done? That wretched young man hadn’t a leg to stand upon. Of course, possibly he did commit the crime …
‘No,’ said Mr Mayherne to himself. ‘No – there’s almost too much evidence against him. I don’t believe this woman. She was trumping7 up the whole story. But she’ll never bring it into court.’
He wished he felt more conviction on the point.
The police court proceedings8 were brief and dramatic. The principal witnesses for the prosecution9 were Janet Mackenzie, maid to the dead woman, and Romaine Heilger, Austrian subject, the mistress of the prisoner.
Mr Mayherne sat in the court and listened to the damning story that the latter told. It was on the lines she had indicated to him in their interview.
The prisoner reserved his defence and was committed for trial.
Mr Mayherne was at his wits’ end. The case against Leonard Vole was black beyond words. Even the famous KC who was engaged for the defence held out little hope.
‘If we can shake that Austrian woman’s testimony10, we might do something,’ he said dubiously11. ‘But it’s a bad business.’
Mr Mayherne had concentrated his energies on one single point. Assuming Leonard Vole to be speaking the truth, and to have left the murdered woman’s house at nine o’clock, who was the man whom Janet heard talking to Miss French at half past nine?
The only ray of light was in the shape of a scapegrace nephew who had in bygone days cajoled and threatened his aunt out of various sums of money. Janet Mackenzie, the solicitor12 learned, had always been attached to this young man, and had never ceased urging his claims upon her mistress. It certainly seemed possible that it was this nephew who had been with Miss French after Leonard Vole left, especially as he was not to be found in any of his old haunts.
In all other directions, the lawyer’s researches had been negative in their result. No one had seen Leonard Vole entering his own house, or leaving that of Miss French. No one had seen any other man enter or leave the house in Cricklewood. All inquiries13 drew blank.
It was the eve of the trial when Mr Mayherne received the letter which was to lead his thoughts in an entirely14 new direction.
It came by the six o’clock post. An illiterate15 scrawl16, written on common paper and enclosed in a dirty envelope with the stamp stuck on crooked17.
Mr Mayherne read it through once or twice before he grasped its meaning.
Dear Mister
Youre the lawyer chap wot acks for the young feller. if you want that painted foreign hussy showd up for wot she is an her pack of lies you come to 16 Shaw’s Rents Stepney tonight. It ul cawst you 2 hundred quid Arsk for Missis Mogson.
The solicitor read and re-read this strange epistle. It might, of course, be a hoax18, but when he thought it over, he became increasingly convinced that it was genuine, and also convinced that it was the one hope for the prisoner. The evidence of Romaine Heilger damned him completely, and the line the defence meant to pursue, the line that the evidence of a woman who had admittedly lived an immoral19 life was not to be trusted, was at best a weak one.
Mr Mayherne’s mind was made up. It was his duty to save his client at all costs. He must go to Shaw’s Rents.
He had some difficulty in finding the place, a ramshackle building in an evil-smelling slum, but at last he did so, and on inquiry20 for Mrs Mogson was sent up to a room on the third floor. On this door he knocked and getting no answer, knocked again.
At this second knock, he heard a shuffling21 sound inside, and presently the door was opened cautiously half an inch and a bent22 figure peered out.
‘So it’s you, dearie,’ she said, in a wheezy voice. ‘Nobody with you, is there? No playing tricks? That’s right. You can come in – you can come in.’
With some reluctance24 the lawyer stepped across the threshold into the small dirty room, with its flickering25 gas jet. There was an untidy unmade bed in a corner, a plain deal table and two rickety chairs. For the first time Mr Mayherne had a full view of the tenant26 of this unsavoury apartment. She was a woman of middle age, bent in figure, with a mass of untidy grey hair and a scarf wound tightly round her face. She saw him looking at this and laughed again, the same curious toneless chuckle.
‘Wondering why I hide my beauty, dear? He, he, he. Afraid it may tempt27 you, eh? But you shall see – you shall see.’
She drew aside the scarf and the lawyer recoiled involuntarily before the almost formless blur28 of scarlet29. She replaced the scarf again.
‘So you’re not wanting to kiss me, dearie? He, he, I don’t wonder. And yet I was a pretty girl once – not so long ago as you’d think, either. Vitriol, dearie, vitriol – that’s what did that. Ah! but I’ll be even with em –’
She burst into a hideous30 torrent31 of profanity which Mr Mayherne tried vainly to quell32. She fell silent at last, her hands clenching33 and unclenching themselves nervously34.
‘Enough of that,’ said the lawyer sternly. ‘I’ve come here because I have reason to believe you can give me information which will clear my client, Leonard Vole. Is that the case?’
Her eye leered at him cunningly.
‘It is your duty to give evidence, and you can be called upon to do so.’
‘That won’t do, dearie. I’m an old woman, and I know nothing. But you give me two hundred quid, and perhaps I can give you a hint or two. See?’
‘What kind of hint?’
‘What should you say to a letter? A letter from her. Never mind now how I got hold of it. That’s my business. It’ll do the trick. But I want my two hundred quid.’
Mr Mayherne looked at her coldly, and made up his mind.
‘I’ll give you ten pounds, nothing more. And only that if this letter is what you say it is.’
‘Twenty,’ said Mr Mayherne, ‘and that’s my last word.’
He rose as if to go. Then, watching her closely, he drew out a pocket book, and counted out twenty one-pound notes.
‘You see,’ he said. ‘That is all I have with me. You can take it or leave it.’
But already he knew that the sight of the money was too much for her. She cursed and raved impotently, but at last she gave in. Going over to the bed, she drew something out from beneath the tattered37 mattress38.
It was a bundle of letters that she threw to him, and Mr Mayherne untied40 them and scanned them in his usual cool, methodical manner. The woman, watching him eagerly, could gain no clue from his impassive face.
He read each letter through, then returned again to the top one and read it a second time. Then he tied the whole bundle up again carefully.
They were love letters, written by Romaine Heilger, and the man they were written to was not Leonard Vole. The top letter was dated the day of the latter’s arrest.
Mr Mayherne put the letters in his pocket, then he asked a question.
‘How did you get hold of this correspondence?’
‘That’s telling,’ she said with a leer. ‘But I know something more. I heard in court what that hussy said. Find out where she was at twenty past ten, the time she says she was at home. Ask at the Lion Road Cinema. They’ll remember – a fine upstanding girl like that – curse her!’
The other’s voice grew thick and hoarse44, her hands clenched45 and unclenched. Finally she lifted one to her face.
‘He’s the man that did this to me. Many years ago now. She took him away from me – a chit of a girl she was then. And when I went after him – and went for him too – he threw the cursed stuff at me! And she laughed – damn her! I’ve had it in for her for years. Followed her, I have, spied upon her. And now I’ve got her! She’ll suffer for this, won’t she, Mr Lawyer? She’ll suffer?’
‘She will probably be sentenced to a term of imprisonment46 for perjury,’ said Mr Mayherne quietly.
‘Shut away – that’s what I want. You’re going, are you? Where’s my money? Where’s that good money?’
Without a word, Mr Mayherne put down the notes on the table. Then, drawing a deep breath, he turned and left the squalid room. Looking back, he saw the old woman crooning over the money.
He wasted no time. He found the cinema in Lion Road easily enough, and, shown a photograph of Romaine Heilger, the commissionaire recognized her at once. She had arrived at the cinema with a man some time after ten o’clock on the evening in question. He had not noticed her escort particularly, but he remembered the lady who had spoken to him about the picture that was showing. They stayed until the end, about an hour later.
Mr Mayherne was satisfied. Romaine Heilger’s evidence was a tissue of lies from beginning to end. She had evolved it out of her passionate47 hatred48. The lawyer wondered whether he would ever know what lay behind that hatred. What had Leonard Vole done to her? He had seemed dumbfounded when the solicitor had reported her attitude to him. He had declared earnestly that such a thing was incredible – yet it had seemed to Mr Mayherne that after the first astonishment49 his protests had lacked sincerity50.
He did know. Mr Mayherne was convinced of it. He knew, but had no intention of revealing the fact. The secret between those two remained a secret. Mr Mayherne wondered if some day he should come to learn what it was.
The solicitor glanced at his watch. It was late, but time was everything. He hailed a taxi and gave an address.
‘Sir Charles must know of this at once,’ he murmured to himself as he got in. The trial of Leonard Vole for the murder of Emily French aroused widespread interest. In the first place the prisoner was young and good-looking, then he was accused of a particularly dastardly crime, and there was the further interest of Romaine Heilger, the principal witness for the prosecution. There had been pictures of her in many papers, and several fictitious51 stories as to her origin and history.
The proceedings opened quietly enough. Various technical evidence came first. Then Janet Mackenzie was called. She told substantially the same story as before. In cross-examination counsel for the defence succeeded in getting her to contradict herself once or twice over her account of Vole’s association with Miss French, he emphasized the fact that though she had heard a man’s voice in the sitting-room52 that night, there was nothing to show that it was Vole who was there, and he managed to drive home a feeling that jealousy53 and dislike of the prisoner were at the bottom of a good deal of her evidence.
Then the next witness was called.
‘Your name is Romaine Heilger?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are an Austrian subject?’
‘Yes.’
‘For the last three years you have lived with the prisoner and passed yourself off as his wife?’
Just for a moment Romaine Heilger’s eye met those of the man in the dock. Her expression held something curious and unfathomable.
‘Yes.’
The questions went on. Word by word the damning facts came out. On the night in question the prisoner had taken out a crowbar with him. He had returned at twenty minutes past ten, and had confessed to having killed the old lady. His cuffs54 had been stained with blood, and he had burned them in the kitchen stove. He had terrorized her into silence by means of threats.
As the story proceeded, the feeling of the court which had, to begin with, been slightly favourable55 to the prisoner, now set dead against him. He himself sat with downcast head and moody56 air, as though he knew he were doomed57.
Yet it might have been noted58 that her own counsel sought to restrain Romaine’s animosity. He would have preferred her to be a more unbiased witness.
He put it to her that her story was a malicious60 fabrication from start to finish, that she had not even been in her own house at the time in question, that she was in love with another man and was deliberately61 seeking to send Vole to his death for a crime he did not commit.
Then came the surprising denouement63, the production of the letter. It was read aloud in court in the midst of a breathless stillness.
Max, beloved, the Fates have delivered him into our hands! He has been arrested for murder – but, yes, the murder of an old lady! Leonard who would not hurt a fly! At last I shall have my revenge. The poor chicken! I shall say that he came in that night with blood upon him – that he confessed to me. I shall hang him, Max – and when he hangs he will know and realize that it was Romaine who sent him to his death. And then – happiness, Beloved! Happiness at last!
There were experts present ready to swear that the handwriting was that of Romaine Heilger, but they were not needed. Confronted with the letter, Romaine broke down utterly64 and confessed everything. Leonard Vole had returned to the house at the time he said, twenty past nine. She had invented the whole story to ruin him.
With the collapse65 of Romaine Heilger, the case for the Crown collapsed66 also. Sir Charles called his few witnesses, the prisoner himself went into the box and told his story in a manly67 straightforward68 manner, unshaken by cross-examination.
The prosecution endeavoured to rally, but without great success. The judge’s summing up was not wholly favourable to the prisoner, but a reaction had set in and the jury needed little time to consider their verdict.
‘We find the prisoner not guilty.’
Leonard Vole was free!
Little Mr Mayherne hurried from his seat. He must congratulate his client.
He found himself polishing his pince-nez vigorously, and checked himself. His wife had told him only the night before that he was getting a habit of it. Curious things habits. People themselves never knew they had them.
An interesting case – a very interesting case. That woman, now, Romaine Heilger.
The case was dominated for him still by the exotic figure of Romaine Heilger. She had seemed a pale quiet woman in the house at Paddington, but in court she had flamed out against the sober background. She had flaunted69 herself like a tropical flower.
If he closed his eyes he could see her now, tall and vehement2, her exquisite70 body bent forward a little, her right hand clenching and unclenching itself unconsciously all the time. Curious things, habits. That gesture of hers with the hand was her habit, he supposed. Yet he had seen someone else do it quite lately. Who was it now? Quite lately –
He stood still, his head whirling. It was impossible – impossible – Yet, Romaine Heilger was an actress.
The KC came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Congratulated our man yet? He’s had a narrow shave, you know. Come along and see him.’
But the little lawyer shook off the other’s hand.
He wanted one thing only – to see Romaine Heilger face to face.
He did not see her until some time later, and the place of their meeting is not relevant.
‘So you guessed,’ she said, when he had told her all that was in his mind. ‘The face? Oh! that was easy enough, and the light of that gas jet was too bad for you to see the makeup72.’
‘But why – why –’
‘Why did I play a lone73 hand?’ She smiled a little, remembering the last time she had used the words.
‘Such an elaborate comedy!’
‘My friend – I had to save him. The evidence of a woman devoted74 to him would not have been enough – you hinted as much yourself. But I know something of the psychology75 of crowds. Let my evidence be wrung76 from me, as an admission, damning me in the eyes of the law, and a reaction in favour of the prisoner would immediately set in.’
‘And the bundle of letters?’
‘One alone, the vital one, might have seemed like a – what do you call it? – put-up job.’
‘Then the man called Max?’
‘Never existed, my friend.’
‘I still think,’ said little Mr Mayherne, in an aggrieved77 manner, ‘that we could have got him off by the – er – normal procedure.’
‘I dared not risk it. You see, you thought he was innocent –’
‘And you knew it? I see,’ said little Mr Mayherne.
‘My dear Mr Mayherne,’ said Romaine, ‘you do not see at all.
I knew – he was guilty!’
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收听单词发音
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1
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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trumping
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| v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的现在分词 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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illiterate
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| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
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scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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hoax
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| v.欺骗，哄骗，愚弄；n.愚弄人，恶作剧 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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27
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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30
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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32
quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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40
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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41
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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42
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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43
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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44
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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45
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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47
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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48
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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49
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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50
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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51
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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52
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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53
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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54
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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56
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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57
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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58
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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59
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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60
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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61
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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62
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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63
denouement
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| n.结尾，结局 | |
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64
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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65
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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66
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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67
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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68
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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69
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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70
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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71
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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72
makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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73
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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75
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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76
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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77
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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