5 THE CRIME
5 谋杀
He found it difficult to go to sleep again at once. For one thing he missed the motion of the train. If it was a station outside, it was curiously quiet. By contrast the noises on the train seemed unusually loud. He could hear Ratchett moving about next door—a click as he pulled down the washbasin, the sound of the tap running, a splashing noise, then another click as the basin shut to again. Footsteps passed up the corridor outside, the shuffling footsteps of someone in bedroom slippers.
他发觉自己一时竟无法入睡。一来，缺少了行车的晃动；二来，外头果若是车站，怎会如此的沉寂。相形之下，车内的声响要大得多了。他听见罗嘉德在隔室的活动声——按下脸盆塞咔的声响，自来水细细的流声，洗手、甩干的声音；之后，咔的一声脸盆活塞又关闭了。列车过道上有脚步声，是有人穿拖鞋走过去的。
Hercule Poirot lay awake staring at the ceiling. Why was the station outside so silent? His throat felt dry. He had forgotten to ask for his usual bottle of mineral water. He looked at his watch again. Just after a quarter past one. He would ring for the conductor and ask for some mineral water. His finger went out to the bell, but he paused as in the stillness he heard a ting. The man couldn’t answer every bell at once.
赫邱里·白罗躺在床上，眼睛盯住天花板。外头车站怎么会如此寂静无声？他有点口干，早先忘了要一瓶矿泉水。一看表，才一点过一刻。他想跟列车长要点矿泉水。伸出手刚要按铃，又停住了。寂静中突然听见“叮！”的一声铃响。他想，一个人忙不过来，列车长是不可能个个旅客一时都照顾到的。
Ting. ... Ting. ... Ting. ...
叮……叮……叮……
It sounded again and again. Where was the man? Somebody was gettingimpatient.
铃声响了又响。列车长哪里去了呢？有人已经不耐烦了。
Ti-i-i-ing!
叮……
Whoever it was, was keeping a finger solidly on the push-button.
不管是谁，这名旅客显然无意将按铃的手指移开。
Suddenly with a rush, his footsteps echoing up the aisle, the man came. He knocked at a door not far from Poirot’s own.
突然，一阵急促的脚步声在过道上响起，列车长来了。他在敲离白罗不远的房门。
Then came voices—the conductor’s, deferential, apologetic; and a woman’s,insistent and voluble.
说话的声音传来了——列车长谦卑、歉然的声调；还有一个妇人的——坚持、滔滔的吵声。
Mrs. Hubbard!
准是侯伯太太！
Poirot smiled to himself.
白罗不觉会心地笑了。
The altercation—if it was one—went on for some time. Its proportions wereninety per cent of Mrs. Hubbard’s to a soothing ten per cent of the conductor’s. Finally the matter seemed to be adjusted. Poirot heard distinctly a “Bonne nuit, Madame,” and a closing door.
这阵争吵——果若是真的话——持续了好一阵子。其中有百分之九十是侯伯太太的质问，百分之十是列车长的慰语。终于，事态平息下来，白罗清晰地听见一句：“晚安，夫人。”接着门关上了。
He pressed his own finger on the bell.
他又将手指按上了电铃。
The conductor arrived promptly. He looked hot and worried.
列车长满脸通红，气极败坏地赶了过来。
“De l’eau minérale, s’il vous Plaît.”
“请给我一瓶矿泉水，谢谢。”
“Bien, Monsieur.” Perhaps a twinkle in Poirot’s eye led him to unburdenhimself. “La dame américaine—”
“好的，先生，”也许是白罗向他挤了挤眼睛，列车长才有了诉苦的机会。“这位美国太太——”
“Yes?”
“怎么了？”
He wiped his forehead. “Imagine to yourself the time I have had with her! She insists—but insists—that there is a man in her compartment! Figure to yourself, Monsieur. In a space of this size.” He swept a hand round. “Where would he conceal himself? I argue with her. I point out that it is impossible. She insists. She woke up, and there was a man there. And how, I ask, did he get out and leave the door bolted behind him? But she will not listen to reason. As though there were not enough to worry us already. This snow—”
列车长擦了擦额头说：“您想想，我被她折腾的这一阵子！她非说——硬是说——有个男人在她房里！您说可能吗？这么小的地方，”他伸开两手比了比：“可往哪里藏？我跟她辩了半天，告诉她是不可能的。她仍是硬说夜里醒来，看见有个男人站在那儿。我问她，就说有吧，那个人怎能够跑出去之后，还能把门从里头拴上？可是她说什么也不听，好像我们的麻烦还不够大。您瞧，这大雪——”
“Snow?”
“大雪？”
“But yes, Monsieur. Monsieur has not noticed? The train has stopped. We have run into a snowdrift. Heaven knows how long we shall be here. I remember once being snowed up for seven days.”
“怎么？先生您没注意到？车停下来了，被风雪给封住了，不知道要在这儿蹲上多久呢。我记得有一次大雪，我们一直耗了七天。”
“Where are we?”
“现在我们到了什么所在了？”
“Between Vincovci and Brod.”
“在温可齐与布拉德之间。”
“Là-là,” said Poirot vexedly.
“唉呀，真是”白罗懊丧地叹了一句。
The man withdrew and returned with the water.
列车长退出去，又拿了一瓶矿泉水回来。
“Bon soir, Monsieur.”
“您歇着吧，先生。”
Poirot drank a glass of water and composed himself to sleep.
白罗喝了一杯水，盼望能平静地睡去。
He was just dropping off when something again woke him. This time it was as though something heavy had fallen with a thud against the door.
刚要沉入梦乡，却又被惊醒过来，这次听见砰的一声，不知什么东西绊倒碰到他门上了。
He sprang up, opened it and looked out. Nothing. But to his right, some distance down the corridor, a woman wrapped in a scarlet kimono was retreating from him. At the other end, sitting on his little seat, the conductor was entering up figures on large sheets of paper. Everything was deathly quiet.
他跳了起来，开门往过道上查看，什么动静也没有。但右方老远的过道上，却见有一个女人身披鲜红色和服式睡袍走了开去。过道左方尽头，列车长正端坐在一张小凳上在一大张表格上填写东西。一切是死般的静止。
“Decidedly I suffer from the nerves,” said Poirot and retired to bed again. This time he slept till morning.
“我看我是有点神经衰弱了。”白罗说着重又上了床。这次一觉睡到了天明。
When he awoke the train was still at a standstill. He raised a blind and looked out. Heavy banks of snow surrounded the train.
醒来，列车仍停着，拉开百叶窗，他见整列火车已裹在一条白色的雪毯中。
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was past nine o’clock.
一看手表，已过了早上九点。
At a quarter to ten, neat, spruce and dandified as ever, he made his way to the restaurant car, where a chorus of woe was going on.
十点差一刻，白罗一身体面、时髦的装束踱入餐车时，一阵嘈杂叹怨之声轰入耳际。
Any barriers there might have been between the passengers had now quitebroken down. All were united by a common misfortune. Mrs. Hubbard was loudest in her lamentations.
存在于旅客之间的任何生疏，这时都已消散。共同面临的困境终于将大家团结成一气。侯伯太太正在吵着埋怨：
“My daughter said it would be the easiest way in the world. Just sit in the train until I got to Parrus. And now we may be here for days and days,” she wailed. “And my boat sails day after to-morrow. How am I going to catch it now? Why, I can’t even wire to cancel my passage. I’m just too mad to talk about it!”
“我女儿还说呢，这是最惬意不过的事了。在火车上坐着，到了帕鲁斯就行了。现在可好了，我们不知要在这儿困上几天呢。”她几乎带哭地说：“我搭的船后天就开，我现在可怎么赶得上？你看，我连打电报退掉船票都没法子。我真是气得连话也说不上来了。”
The Italian said that he had urgent business himself in Milan. The largeAmerican said that that was “too bad, Ma’am,” and soothingly expressed a hope that the train might make up time.
那名意大利人说他在米兰也有要事要办。那高大的美国人安慰地说：“真是糟糕，”并表示火车还是有希望能加速赶上一些时间的。
“My sister—her children wait me,” said the Swedish lady, and wept. “I get no word to them. What they think? They will say bad things have happen to me.” “How long shall we be here?” demanded Mary Debenham. “Doesn’t anybodyknow?”
“我姊姊——还有她的孩子们都在等我，”那瑞典妇人抹着眼泪说：“我又没法子通知他们。他们不知会怎么想？他们一定认为我出了事了。”“我们得在这里停多久？”玛丽·戴本瀚质问说：“到底有没有人晓得？”
Her voice sounded impatient, but Poirot noted that there were no signs of that almost feverish anxiety which she had displayed during the check to the Taurus Express.
她的语气尽管充满不耐烦，但白罗却注意到：她早先在前往托鲁斯途中列车误点的那份焦虑，显然不复存在了。
Mrs. Hubbard was off again.
侯伯太太又按捺不住了。
“There isn’t anybody knows a thing on this train. And nobody’s trying to do anything. Just a pack of useless foreigners. Why, if this were at home, there’d be someone at least trying to do something!”
“这车上还会有人知道什么！也没人管事。只有一群没用的外国佬，要是在我们国家呀，至少有人会想法子解决问题的。”
Arbuthnot turned to Poirot and spoke in careful British French.
阿伯斯诺上校咬字谨慎地用英国腔的法文对白罗说：
“Vous êtes un directeur de la ligne, je crois, Monsieur. Vous pouvez nous dire— ”
“你是铁路公司的主任吧？你应该——”
Smiling, Poirot corrected him.
白罗笑着改正了他。
“No, no,” he said in English. “It is not I. You confound me with my friend, M. Bouc.”
“不，不，”他用英语说：“我不是，你把我跟波克先生混错了。”
“Oh, I’m sorry”
“喔！很抱歉。”
“Not at all. It is most natural. I am now in the compartment that he hadformerly.”
“不要紧，不怪你。我现在就睡他先前的卧铺房。”
M. Bouc was not present in the restaurant car. Poirot looked about to notice who else was absent.
波克先生此刻不在餐车内。白罗环视一周，看看还有什么人不在场。
Princess Dragomiroff was missing, and the Hungarian couple. Also Ratchett, his valet, and the German lady’s-maid.
德瑞格米罗夫郡主与那对年轻的匈牙利夫妇也没来。另外，罗嘉德、他的男仆与那名德籍女仆也不见人影。
The Swedish lady wiped her eyes.
那个瑞典女人又在抹泪了。
“I am foolish,” she said. “I am bad to cry. All is for the best, whatever happen.” This Christian spirit, however, was far from being shared.
“我真傻气，”她说：“这么大的人还哭。不管怎么样，一切都会平安无事的。”只是，她这副基督徒的信心，似乎并未引起共鸣。
“That’s all very well,” said MacQueen restlessly. “We may be here for days.” “What is this country anyway?” demanded Mrs. Hubbard tearfully.
“话倒是不错，”麦昆烦躁地说：“可是说不定我们会困在这里好多天的。”“这里到底是属于什么国家啊？”侯伯太太眼泪兮兮地问。
On being told it was Jugo-Slavia, she said: “Oh! one of these Balkan things. What can you expect?”
经人告诉这是南斯拉夫时，她说：“喔！一个巴尔干半岛的鬼地方。那还有什么话可以说呢？”
“You are the only patient one, Mademoiselle,” said Poirot to Miss Debenham. S
“看起来，只有您最有耐心，小姐。”白罗对戴本瀚小姐说。
he shrugged her shoulders slightly. “What can one do?”
她淡淡地耸了耸肩头：“又有什么法子？”
“You are a philosopher, Mademoiselle.”
“你真看得开，小姐。”
“That implies a detached attitude. I think my attitude is more selfish. I have learned to save myself useless emotion.”
“那得需要置身度外的涵养。我的态度呢，只能说是出于自私。我已经学会了如何省点精神。”
She was speaking more to herself than to him. She was not even looking at him. Her gaze went past him, out of the window to where the snow lay in heavy masses.
她好像在对自己说话，连看都没看他一眼。她的视线掠过了他，穿过车窗，凝住在外头无垠的积雪。
“You are a strong character, Mademoiselle,” said Poirot gently. “You are, I think, the strongest character amongst us.”
“你很坚强，小姐，”白罗斯文地说：“我看，你是我们之中最坚强的一个了。”
“Oh! no. No, indeed. I know one far, far stronger than I am.”
“不会吧，绝不至于。我就知道这里有一个远比我更坚强的呢。”
“And that is—?”
“喔？是谁——？”
She seemed suddenly to come to herself, to realise that she was talking to a stranger and foreigner, with whom, until this morning, she had exchanged only half a dozen sentences.
她似乎蓦地意识到与自己谈话的，竟是一个直到今天早上不过交谈过十几句话的陌生外籍人士。
She laughed, a polite but estranging laugh.
她颇不自然地谦笑了一声。
“Well—that old lady, for instance. You have probably noticed her. A very ugly old lady but rather fascinating. She has only to lift a little finger and ask for something in a polite voice—and the whole train runs.”
“嗯——就拿那位老夫人来说吧。你大概已经注意到了，就是那个极丑的老女人，却很富慑人的威力。她只要撩一下手指，说句客套话，全车的人就没人敢不替她效命。”
“It runs also for my friend M. Bouc,” said Poirot. “But that is because he is a director of the line, not because he has a strong character.”
“他们也不敢不遵我的朋友波克先生的命令，”白罗说：“但那是因为他是这条铁路干线主任的缘故，并不因为他是个强有力的人。”
Mary Debenham smiled.
玛丽·戴本瀚笑了一笑。
The morning wore away. Several people, Poirot amongst them, remained in the dining-car. The communal life was felt, at the moment, to pass the time better. He heard a good deal more about Mrs. Hubbard’s daughter, and he heard the lifelong habits of Mr. Hubbard, deceased, from his rising in the morning and commencing breakfast with a cereal to his final rest at night in the bed-socks that Mrs. Hubbard herself had been in the habit of knitting for him.
一个上午闷闷地过去，包括白罗在内的几个人仍继续留在餐年内。至少短时间内，为了打发时间，大家体会到了共同生活的可贵。白罗又听到一大堆有关侯伯太太女儿的琐事，她先夫侯伯先生一生的习惯：什么早餐一碗牛奶泡麦片，晚间入寝时穿上侯伯太太最喜欢为他编织的睡袜。
It was when he was listening to a confused account of the missionary aims of the Swedish lady that one of the Wagon Lit conductors came into the car and stood at his elbow.
他正在听那名瑞典妇人不清不楚地诉说她的传教宗旨时，列车上的一名列车长走到他的身边。
“Pardon, Monsieur.”
“打扰您一下，先生。”
“Yes?”
“何事？”
“The compliments of M. Bouc, and he would be glad if you would be so kind as to come to him for a few minutes.”
“波克先生有请，说您不介意的话，劳您过去一下。”
Poirot rose, uttered excuses to the Swedish lady and followed the man out of the dining-car. It was not his own conductor, but a big fair man.
白罗起身，向瑞典妇人道了句歉语，就随着这人走出了餐车。这人不是他卧铺车厢的列车长，是个高大、白净的男人。
He followed his guide down the corridor of his own carriage and along thecorridor of the next one. The man tapped at a door, then stood aside to let Poirot enter.The compartment was not M. Bouc’s own. It was a second-class one—chosenpresumably because of its slightly larger size. It certainly gave the impression of being crowded.
他跟着这人越过自己的车厢，来到下一节车厢的过道上。那人在一扇房门上轻敲了一声，闪身请白罗进去。这并不是波克先生的卧铺房间，也许由于地方较宽敞，是一间特别选出的二等车房。里关仍是显得挤了一些。
M. Bouc himself was sitting on the small seat in the opposite corner. In the corner next the window, facing him, was a small dark man looking out at the snow. Standing up and quite preventing Poirot from advancing any farther were a big man in blue uniform (the chef de train) and his own Wagon Lit conductor.
波克先生坐在对面角落的一张小台桌上，对面车窗边的角落上站着一名矮小、深色皮肤的人正望着外头的雪景。一名高大、身穿蓝色制服的男人（总列车长）站在门口几乎堵住了他的进路；还有另外一个人就是他自己卧铺车厢的那位列车长。
“Ah! my good friend,” cried M. Bouc. “Come in. We have need of you.”
“啊！我的老朋友，”波克几乎在嚷着说：“请进，我们很需要你。”
The little man in the window shifted along the seat, and Poirot squeezed past: the other two men and sat down facing his friend.
站在窗前的那个矮小男人往座位上移了移，白罗才得以挤过那另两个人，勉强坐到了他朋友的对面。
The expression on M. Bouc’s face gave him, as he would have expressed it,
从波克先生布满愠怒的脸色上，他很清楚地看出必定有非同小可的事件发生了。
furiously to think. It was clear that something out of the common had happened. “What has occurred?” he asked.
“发生什么事了？”他问。
“You may well ask that. First this snow-this stoppage. And now—”
“问得真好！先是这场风雪，封阻了我们的去路。现在又——”
He paused—and a sort of strangled gasp came from the Wagon Lit conductor.
他顿住了——见卧铺列车长打喉咙眼儿里憋出了一口气。
“And now what?”
“现在又怎么了？”
“And now a passenger lies dead in his berth—stabbed.”
“现在又有一名旅客死在卧铺上了——被人刺死的。”
M. Bouc spoke with a kind of calm desperation.
波克先生的语气是一种强作镇定的懊丧。
“A passenger? Which passenger?”
“一名旅客？哪位旅客？”
“An American. A man called—called—” he consulted some notes in front ofhim. “Ratchett. That is right—Ratchett?”
“一个美国人。一个姓，姓什么——”他翻了翻手上的资料之后说：“对了，姓罗嘉德的。对吧，罗嘉德？”
“Yes, Monsieur,” the Wagon Lit man gulped.
“是的，先生。”卧铺列车长吞了一口气答道。
Poirot looked at him. He was as white as chalk.
白罗看着他，只见他面色一如粉笔。
“You had better let that man sit down,” he said. “He may faint otherwise.” The chef de train moved slightly and the Wagon Lit man sank down in the
“你最好叫他坐下吧，”他说：“不然，我看他要昏倒了。”
corner and buried his face in his hands.
总列车长挪了挪身子，卧铺列车长一屁股跌坐在屋角的凳子上，把脸埋在手掌上。
“Brr!” said Poirot. “This is serious!”
“啧啧！”白罗说：“事态实在严重！”
“Certainly it is serious. To begin with, a murder—that in itself is a calamity of the first water. But not only that, the circumstances are unusual. Here we are, brought to a standstill. We may be here for hours—and not only hours—days! Another circumstance—passing through most countries we have the police of that country on the train. But in Jugo-Slavia, no. You comprehend?”
“当然严重了。首先，出了谋杀案件，本身就是水深火热的麻烦。这且不说，情况又如此地不寻常。我们的车又给堵在这里了。可能得等上几个钟头——甚至几天！还有一点，要是经过别的国境，我们车上总有该国的警察随车护送；可是在这里，南斯拉夫是没有的。你懂吧？”
“It is a position of great difficulty,” said Poirot.
“的确是相当棘手的问题。”
“There is worse to come. Dr. Constantine—I forgot, I have not introduced you. Dr. Constantine, M. Poirot.”
“更糟的还在后头呢。喔，对了，我忘了给你们介绍：康斯丹丁医师，白罗先生。”
The little dark man bowed, and Poirot returned the bow.
两人礼貌地欠身点了点头。
“Dr. Constantine is of the opinion that death occurred at about 1 A.M.”
“按康斯丹丁医师的判断，遇害人死亡时刻是凌晨一时左右。”
“It is difficult to speak exactly in these matters,” said the doctor, “but I think I can say definitely that death occurred between midnight and two in the morning.” “When was this M. Ratchett last seen alive?” asked Poirot.
“这种事是很难正确断定的，”医师说：“不过，我可以肯定地指出死亡时间不会超过午夜十二时至凌晨二时之间。”“罗嘉德先生是什么时间被人看见还活着的？”白罗问。
“He is known to have been alive at about twenty minutes to one, when he spoke to the conductor,” said M. Bouc.
“据说他在大约午夜十二时四十分还活着，那时他与列车长说过话。”波克先生说。
“That is quite correct,” said Poirot. “I myself heard what passed. That is the last thing known?”
“这是不错的，”白罗说：“我本人也听见有些动静的。这是他死前唯一所知的事实吗？”
“Yes.”
“是的。”
Poirot turned toward the doctor, who continued.
白罗转过头去听取医师的继续陈述：“
“The window of M. Ratchett’s compartment was found wide open, leading oneto suppose that the murderer escaped that way. But in my opinion that open window is a blind. Anyone departing that way would have left distinct traces in the snow. There were none.”
罗嘉德先生卧铺房间的窗户是大开的，这很容易使人认定凶手是跳窗逃逸的。但我个人的看法认为那是故设的圈套。因为任何人自窗外逃走，都会在雪地上留下脚印的，然而竟然不见一个脚印。”
“The crime was discovered—when?” asked Poirot.
“这桩谋杀是何时发现的？”白罗问。
“Michel!”
“麦寇！”
The Wagon Lit conductor sat up. His face still looked pale and frightened.
卧车列车长坐起身来，仍是一脸的苍白与恐惧。
“Tell this gentleman exactly what occurred,” ordered M. Bouc.
“把发生的事情一五一十的全说给这位先生听。”波史先生下令说。
The man spoke somewhat jerkily.
“The valet of this M. Ratchett, he tapped several times at the door this morning. There was no answer. Then, half an hour ago, the restaurant car attendant came. He wanted to know if Monsieur was taking déjeuner. It was eleven o’clock, you comprehend.
“罗嘉德先生的男仆今天早上敲了好几次他的房门，却一直没有回应。后来，就在半小时之前，餐车的服务生来找我说要知道罗嘉德先生是否要用午餐。那时已经十一点钟了，你是知道的。
“I open the door for him with my key. But there is a chain, too, and that is fastened. There is no answer and it is very still in there, and cold—but cold. With the window open and snow drifting in. I thought the gentleman had had a fit, perhaps. I got the chef de train. We broke the chain and went in. He was—Ah! c’était terrible!”
我用钥匙给他开了房门，但是门又上了锁链，打不开。我叫，也没人应。里头静极了，也冷得要命。窗户是大开的，雪又吹了进来，还能不冷？我心里想，也许房里那位先生得了急病，我就立刻去请总列车长。我们把锁链弄断，闯了进去。一看，他——唉呀！真太可怕了！”
He buried his face in his hands again.
他又将脸埋入双手中。
“The door was locked and chained on the inside,” said Poirot thoughtfully. “It was not suicide—eh?”
“门反锁着，又上了锁链。”白罗沉思着说：“不会是自杀吧——呃？”
The Greek doctor gave a sardonic laugh. “Does a man who commits suicide stab himself in ten—twelve—fifteen places?” he asked.
那位希腊医师张口讽笑了几声，问道：“一个人自杀，会朝自己身上刺上十刀——十二刀，甚至十五刀吗？”
Poirot’s eyes opened. “That is great ferocity,” he said.
白罗被问得瞪圆了眼睛，只吐出一句：“有如此残忍？”
“It is a woman,” said the chef de train, speaking for the first time. “Depend upon it, it was a woman. Only a woman would stab like that.”
“一定是个女人！”总列车长突然首次开了口：“看情形一定是女人干的。只有女人才会这么乱砍！”
Dr. Constantine screwed up his face thoughtfully.
康斯丹丁医师苦思的脸皱成了一团。
“She must have been a very strong woman,” he said. “It is not my desire to speak technically—that is only confusing; but I can assure you that one or two of the blows were delivered with such force as to drive them through hard belts of bone and muscle.”
“那就非得是个强壮无比的女人。”他说：“姑且不谈复杂的技术上的问题；不过我可以告诉大家，尸体上有一两处刺伤，用力之猛，已穿透了骨头和肌肉。”
“It was clearly not a scientific crime,” said Poirot.
“这么说来，这不是一桩合乎道理的罪行了。”白罗说。
“It was most unscientific,” returned Dr. Constantine. “The blows seem to have been delivered haphazard and at random. Some have glanced off, doing hardly any damage. It is as though somebody had shut his eyes and then in a frenzy struck blindly again and again.”
“简直没有一点道理可寻，”康斯丹丁医师又说：“完全是即兴随意性的刺杀。有的伤痕，就像轻轻划了那么一刀，连一点损伤都没有。好像凶手闭上眼睛之后，发狂地乱刺一通。”
“C’est une femme,” said the chef de train again. “Women are like that. When they are enraged they have great strength.” He nodded so sagely that everyone suspected a personal experience of his own.
“一定是女人，”总列车长又发宏论了：“女人就会这样的，惹急了，她们牛力可大着呢。”他一本正经地点着头，在大家眼里，不禁要怀疑他是否在作个人的经验之谈。”
“I have, perhaps, something to contribute to your store of knowledge,” said Poirot. “M. Ratchett spoke to me yesterday. He told me, as far as I was able to understand him, that he was in danger of his life.”
“我倒知道有件事可供各位参考，“白罗说：”罗嘉德先生昨天跟我交谈过。据我了解，他曾流露过他的生命有着危险。“
“ ‘Bumped off’—that is the American expression, is it not?” asked M. Bouc. “Then it is not a woman. It is a ‘gangster’ or a ‘gunman.’ ”
“有人要‘干掉’他——这是美国人的黑话，是吧？”波克先生问道：“这么说，凶手就不会是个女人了。该是个‘黑社会人物’或者‘取业凶手’了。”
The chef de train looked pained at seeing his theory come to nought.
总列车长见自己的推论落了空，现出了一脸的苦相。
“If so,” said Poirot, “it seems to have been done very amateurishly.” His tone expressed professional disapproval.
“果真如此，”白罗说：“那人的技术也未免太差劲了。”听他的口气，他是在表示自己专业上的异议。
“There is a large American on the train,.” said M. Bouc, pursuing his idea. “A common-looking man with terrible clothes. He chews the gum, which I believe is not done in good circles. You know whom I mean?”
“车上有个美国彪形大汉，”波克先生仍在坚持自己的立论：“一个穿着不雅、长相平庸的家伙。他嘴里老嚼着口香糖，不像是个能登大雅之堂的人物。你该知道我指的是谁吧？”
The Wagon Lit conductor to whom he had appealed nodded.
被问的卧铺列车长点着头说：
“Oui, Monsieur, the No. 16. But it cannot have been he. I should have seen him enter or leave the compartment.”
“是的，先生。十六号房间那位。可是他又很不可能。他进出那个房间我都应该看得见的。”
“You might not. You might not. But we will go into that presently. The question is, what to do?” He looked at Poirot.
“那未必，你不一定看得见。这，我们等会再说。眼前的问题是，我们该怎么办？”他说着，眼睛注视着白罗。
Poirot looked back at him.
白罗也回视着他。
“Come, my friend,” said M. Bouc. “You comprehend what I am about to ask of you. I know your powers. Take command of this investigation! No, no, do not refuse. See, to us it is serious—I speak for the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons Lits. By the time the Jugo-Slavian police arrive, how simple if we can present them with the solution! Otherwise delays, annoyances, a million and one inconveniences. Perhaps, who knows, serious annoyance to innocent persons. Instead—you solve the mystery! We say, ‘A murder has occurred—this is thecriminal!’”
“好了，老兄，”波克先生说：“你知道我要求你帮忙，我清楚你的才干。你就接手调查这个案子吧！千万别推辞。你知道，对我们来说，这事件太严重了——我是站在国际铁路公司卧车部门的立场求求你。要是我们能把案子破了，等到南斯拉夫的警方赶来时，不是一切都简单得多了吗！要不然，一拖延，夜长梦多，又不知要增添多少不便。谁晓得，说不定多少清白的人都会惹上要命的麻烦呢。何不由你来弄个真相大白呢！我们可以告诉他们：‘车上出了谋杀案——喏，凶手就是这个家伙。’”
“And suppose I do not solve it?”
“我要是破不了案呢？”
“Ah, mon cher!” M. Bouc’s voice became positively caressing.
“唉呀，老兄呵！”波克先生已开始又献殷勤又央求了：
“I know your reputation. I know something of your methods. This is the ideal case for you. To look up the antecedents of all these people, to discover their bona fides—all that takes time and endless inconvenience. But have I not heard you say often that to solve a case a man has only to lie back in his chair and think? Do that. Interview the passengers on the train, view the body, examine what clues there are, and then—well, I have faith in you! I am assured that it is no idle boast of yours. Lie back and think—use (as I have heard you say so often) the little grey cells of the mind—and you will know!”
“我知道你的口碑，也清楚你的功力。这案子由你来办最理想不过了。查清这批人的背景，发现真情，固然是费时间伤脑盘的事情，可是，你不是常说吗？要破一桩案子，只需往椅背上一靠，绞绞脑汁——就水到渠成了吗？你就那么做吧。跟车上的旅客问问话，验验尸体，找找线索——这不就——好了，反正，我对你完全信赖！我也知道你做事绝不夸口。那就劳你靠靠椅背、绞绞脑汁——动动你那大脑中的超人细胞（你不是常对我这么说吗？）吧。准保没问题！”
He leaned forward, looking affectionately at the detective.
他倾身向前恳切地望着这位侦探。
“Your faith touches me, my friend,” said Poirot emotionally. “As you say, this cannot be a difficult case. I myself last night—but we will not speak of that now. In truth, this problem intrigues me. I was reflecting, not half an hour ago, that many hours of boredom lay ahead whilst we are stuck here. And now—a problem lies ready to my hand.”
“非常感谢你的赏识，老友。”白罗颇为激动地说：“正如你所说，这绝不是一桩难破的案子。再说，昨天夜里我也——呃，先不谈这个——，我个人对这个案子也深感兴趣。就在半小时之前，我还在想，火车这么一耽搁，可有几个钟头难熬了。现在好了，出了打发时间的问题了。”
“You accept then?” said M. Bouc eagerly.
“那么，你答应了？”波克先生焦切地问。
“C’est entendu. You place the matter in my hands.”
“恭敬不如从命。这可是你塞到我手里来的。”
“Good—we are all at your service.”
“好极了！一切尽管吩咐。”
“To begin with, I should like a plan of the Istanbul-Calais coach, with a note of the people who occupied the several compartments, and I should also like to see their passports and their tickets.”
“首先，我要一份伊斯坦堡——卡莱列车的平面图与各节车厢中旅客的资料清单，也要看看每个人的护照与车票。”
“Michel will get you those.”
“麦寇会替你去取。”
The Wagon Lit conductor left the compartment.
卧铺列车长受命走出了车厢。
“What other passengers are there on the train?” asked Poirot.
“这列车上还有什么其他的乘客？”白罗问。
“In this coach Dr. Constantine and I are the only travellers. In the coach from Bucharest is an old gentleman with a lame leg. He is well known to the conductor. Beyond that are the ordinary carriages, but these do not concern us, since they were locked after dinner had been served last night. Forward of the Istanbul-Calais coach there is only the dining-car.”
“在这节车厢上，只有我和康斯丹丁两个人。从布加勒斯特挂上的车厢上，有位跛腿的老先生，列车长跟他很熟。再下去就是普通车厢，昨晚晚餐之后，车厢门就上了锁了，所以跟我们该不发生任何关系。伊斯坦堡——卡莱车厢之前就只有餐车了。”
“Then it seems,” said Poirot slowly, “as though we must look for our murderer in the Istanbul-Calais coach.” He turned to the doctor. “That is what you were hinting, I think?”
“这么说，”白罗拉慢了声调说：“似乎我们就该在那节伊斯坦堡——卡莱车厢内搜寻我们的凶手了。”他又对医师说：“我想，你是持有这样的暗示吧？”
The Greek nodded. “At half an hour after midnight we ran into the snowdrift. No one can have left the train since then.”
这位希腊医师点头说：“午夜十二时半我们遭遇了大风雪。我看自那时起，没有人能离得了列车的。”
M. Bouc said solemnly, “The murderer is with us—on the train now. ...”
波克先生严肃地说：“凶手就在我们身边——现在还在车上……”