6 A WOMAN
6 凶手是女的
“First of all,” said Poirot, “I should like a word or two with young Mr. MacQueen. He may be able to give us valuable information.”
“首先，”白罗说：“我要跟那位年轻的麦昆先生谈谈。他也许能提供我们一些有力线索。”
“Certainly,” said M. Bouc. He turned to the chef de train. “Get Mr. MacQueen to come here.”
“没问题，”波克先生说。他对总列车长说：“去请麦昆先生来一下。”
The chef de train left the carriage.
总列车长退出了车厢。
The conductor returned with a bundle of passports and tickets. M. Bouc took them from him.
这时，卧铺列车长捧着一堆护照与车票回来，波克先生顺手接了过来。
“Thank you, Michel. It would be best now, I think, if you were to go back to your post. We will take your evidence formally later.”
“谢谢你，麦寇。我看，现在你最好先回自己岗位去吧。我们稍候再正式听取你的证词。”
“Very good, Monsieur,” said Michel, and in his turn left the carriage.
“好的，先生。”麦寇说完也退了出去。
“After we have seen young MacQueen,” said Poirot, “perhaps M. le docteur will come with me to the dead man’s carriage.”
“见过麦昆之后，”白罗说：“也许要麻烦医师陪我到死者的卧铺房间去一趟。”
“Certainly.”
“那当然。”
“After we have finished there—”
“看完了那儿，我们——”
But at this moment the chef de train returned with Hector MacQueen.
这时，总列车长引着海洛特·麦昆进来。
M. Bouc rose. “We are a little cramped here,” he said pleasantly. “Take my seat, Mr. MacQueen. M. Poirot will sit opposite you—so.” He turned to the chef de train. “Clear all the people out of the restaurant car,” he said, “and let it be left free for M. Poirot. You will conduct your interviews there, mon cher?”
波克先生起身带笑着说：“我们这儿挤了一点。请坐我的椅子吧，麦昆先生、白罗先生与你对坐。”他又对总列车长说：“把餐车中的人都请出去，空出来借白罗先生使用。你是在那里与乘客面谈吧，老兄？”
“It would be the most convenient, yes,” agreed Poirot.
“好的，好边最合适。”白罗答说。
MacQueen had stood looking from one to the other, not quite following the rapid flow of French.
麦昆站在那里看看这个又瞧瞧那个，听他们满口机关枪似的法文，一时还摸不出所以然。
“Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?” he began laboriously. “Pourquoi—?”
“怎么回事？”他吃力地用法文问道：“车上出事了吗？”
With a vigorous gesture Poirot motioned him to the seat in the corner. He took it and began once more.
白罗伸开手臂示意请他坐在角落里的一个座位上。他坐下之后，又用法文说：
“Pourquoi—?” Then checking himself and relapsing into his own tongue: “What’s up on the train? Has anything happened?”
“怎么了？”之后，才用自己的母语英文说：“车上是怎么回事？出了事了吗？”
He looked from one man to another.
他再度望了望屋内的人。
Poirot nodded. “Exactly. Something has happened. Prepare yourself for a shock.Your employer, M. Ratchett, is dead!” MacQueen’s mouth pursed itself into a whistle. Except that his eyes grew a shade brighter, he showed no signs of shock or distress.
白罗点头答道：“正是，出了事了。你先沉住气，你的老板罗嘉德先生，他死了。”麦昆抿着嘴吹了一声口哨。除了眼睛一亮之外，看不出半点震愕或悲伤的神色。
“So they got him after all,” he said.
“竟真的让人给干掉了。”他说。
“What exactly do you mean by that phrase, Mr. MacQueen?”
“你这话却是什么意思，麦昆先生？”
MacQueen hesitated.
麦昆没有作答。
“You are assuming,” said Poirot, “that M. Ratchett was murdered?”
“你是否在猜想罗嘉德先生是被人害死的？”白罗问。
“Wasn’t he?” This time MacQueen did show surprise. “Why, yes,” he said slowly. “That’s just what I did think. Do you mean he just died in his sleep? Why, the old man was as tough as—as tough—”
“不是吗？”这次麦昆倒显得有些惊讶。“不错，”他慢条斯理地说：“我正是这么想。你总不至于是说他睡得好好地寿终正寝了吧？那老家伙硬朗得很，结实得像——”
He stopped, at a loss for a simile.
他没说出来，却挤出一丝苦笑。
“No, no,” said Poirot. “Your assumption was quite right. M. Ratchett was murdered. Stabbed. But I should like to know why you were so sure it was murder, and not just—death.”
“不，不，”白罗说：“当然你料想的很对。罗嘉德先生的确是死于非命，被人乱刀刺死的。不过，我倒想知道，你何以如此肯定他必定是被谋杀的，而非平常的死亡？”
MacQueen hesitated. “I must get this clear,” he said. “Who exactly are you? And where do you come in?”
麦昆迟疑半响才说：“我得先搞清楚，你到底是谁，这事又与你何关？”
“I represent the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons Lits.” Poirot paused, then added, “I am a detective. My name is Hercule Poirot.”
“我受国际铁路公司卧车处的委托侦办这个案子。”他停了下来，又说：“我是一名侦探。我叫赫邱里·白罗。”
If he expected an effect he did not get one. MacQueen said merely, “Oh! yes?” and waited for him to go on.
他最后一句话并未收到预期的效果。麦昆只淡淡说了一句：“喔，是这样的？”就等他继续说下去。
“You know the name perhaps?”
“你也许听过这姓名吧？”
“Why, it does seem kind of familiar. Only I always thought it was a woman’s dressmaker.”
“嗯——，是有些耳熟。不过我还老以为是个作女装的裁缝呢。”
Hercule Poirot looked at him with distaste. “It is incredible!” he said.
赫邱里·白罗嫌憎地瞄了一眼。“真是怪事！”
“What’s incredible?”
“什么怪事？”
“Nothing. Let us advance with the matter in hand. I want you to tell me, M. MacQueen, all that you know about the dead man. You were not related to him?”
“没什么。我们还是先谈手头的事吧。麦昆先生，我要请你把自己所知有羊遇害人的一切告诉我们。你跟他没亲戚关系吗？”
“No. I am—was—his secretary.”
“没有。我是——以前是——他的秘书。”
“For how long have you held that post?”
“这工作你担任了多久了？”
“Just over a year.”
“一年多一点。”
“Please give me all the information you can.”
“请把经过情形详述一下。”
“Well, I met Mr. Ratchett just over a year ago when I was in Persia—”
“呃，我是在波斯认识罗嘉德先生的——”
Poirot interrupted.
白罗打断了他的话问道：“
“What were you doing there?’
你在那里有何贵干？”
“I had come over from New York to look into an oil concession. I don’t suppose you want to hear all about that. My friends and I had been let in rather badly over it. Mr. Ratchett was in the same hotel. He had just had a row with his secretary. He offered me the job and I took it. I was at a loose end and glad to find a well-paid job ready made, as it were.”
“我本来是从纽约去看看开采石油的生意机会的。你大概不想听我在这方面多费话吧。反正，我与友人在生意上被人耍了。罗嘉德先生也住在同一家旅馆里。正巧那时他与秘书处得不好。他有意聘我，我正走投无路，他出的薪水颇高，我就接受了这份工作。”
“And since then?”
“后来呢？”
“We’ve travelled about. Mr. Ratchett wanted to see the world. He was hampered by knowing no languages. I acted more as a courier than as a secretary. It was a pleasant life.”
“我们四处旅行。罗嘉德先生要环游世界，可惜语文方面太差，我就成了他的秘书兼翻译。生活蛮惬意的”
“Now tell me as much as you can about your employer.”
“现在请详细谈谈你的老板吧。”
The young man shrugged his shoulders. A perplexed expression passed over his face.
这名青年耸了耸肩膀，脸上显出一股难色。
“That’s not so easy.”
“这倒真不容易。”
“What was his full name?”
“他的全名是什么？”
“Samuel Edward Ratchett.”
“山姆尔·艾德华·罗嘉德。”
“He was an American citizen?”
“他是美国公民吧？”
“Yes.”
“是的。”
“What part of America did he come from?”
“美国什么地方的人？”
“I don’t know.”
“不清楚。”
“Well, tell me what you do know.”
“那就说点你清楚的吧。”
“The actual truth is, Mr. Poirot, that I know nothing at all! Mr. Ratchett never spoke of himself or of his life in America.”
“坦白说，白罗先生，我对他实在一无所知。罗嘉德先生从不谈他自己，或是他在美国的生活情形。”
“Why do you think that was?”
“你想他何以不谈呢？”
“I don’t know. I imagined that he might be ashamed of his beginnings. Some men are.”
“真不知道。我想他也许有一段不足启齿的身世。有些人是不太愿意谈往事的。”
“Does that strike you as a satisfactory solution?”
“你认为这说得通吗？”
“Frankly, it doesn’t.”
“老实讲，我认为是说不通的。”
“Has he any relatives?”
“他有亲人吗？”
“He never mentioned any.”
“他从没提过。”
Poirot pressed the point.
白罗逼了他一板：“对这档子事，你总该有自己的看法吧，麦昆先生。”
“You must have formed some theory, Mr. MacQueen.”
“不错，我有。
“Well, Yes, I did. For one thing, I don’t believe Ratchett was his real name. I think he left America definitely in order to escape someone or something. I think he was successful—until a few weeks ago.”
首先，我就不想信罗嘉德是他的真名实姓。依我看，他离开美国是为了躲避风声或是闪避某人的。此外，他似乎一直事业享通——直到几个星期之前。“
“And then?”
”那时怎样了？“
“He began to get letters—threatening letters.”
“他开始接获信件——恐吓信。”
“Did you see them?”
“你看过没有？”
“Yes. It was my business to attend to his correspondence. The first letter came a fortnight ago.”
“看过。处理他的函件是我的工作。第一封恐吓信大约是两周之前才收到的。”
“Were these letters destroyed?”
“那些信都销毁了吗？”
“No, I think I’ve got a couple still in my files—one I know Ratchett tore up in a rage. Shall I get them for you?”
“没有。我想我公事包里还存有两封，一封在罗嘉德先生盛怒之下给撕了，要不要我拿来给你看。”
“If you would be so good.”
“那再好没有了。”
MacQueen left the compartment. He returned a few minutes later and laid down two sheets of rather dirty notepaper before Poirot.
麦昆走出房去。不久又拿着两张脏旧的信笺回来放在白罗面前。
The first letter ran as follows:
头一封这样写着：
Thought you’d double-cross us and get away with it, did you? Not on your life. We’re out to GET you, Ratchett, and we WILL get you!
“你出卖了我们就想逃之夭夭，是不？这辈子休想。我们要逮你，罗嘉德，也一定会逮到你的。”
There was no signature. With no comment beyond raised eyebrows, Poirot picked up the second letter.
信上没有署名。白罗只扬了扬眉毛，没作任何评语，又拿起了第二封信。
We’re going to take you for a ride, Ratchett. Some time soon. We’re going to GET you—see?
“罗嘉德，我们要带你去兜兜风了。别忙，我们就要逮到你了。懂吧？”
Poirot laid the letter down.
白罗把信放了下来。
“The style is monotonous!” he said. “More so than the handwriting.”
“信体淡而无味！”他说：“比信的笔迹还差。”
MacQueen stared at him.
麦昆愣愣地看着他。
“You would not observe,” said Poirot pleasantly. “It requires the eye of one used to such things. This letter was not written by one person, M. MacQueen. Two or more persons wrote it—each writing one letter of a word at a time. Also, the letters are printed. That makes the task of identifying the handwriting much more difficult.” He paused, then said: “Did you know that M. Ratchett had applied for help to me?”
“你是看不出来的，”白罗笑着说：“这需对这种事有眼力的人才观察得出来。这信不是出自一个人的笔迹，至少是两三人合写的。每个字里一个人写一个字母，而且用的还是印刷体。这样辨认起笔迹来，比较困难。”他稍停之后，又说：“你可知道罗嘉德先生曾向我求援吗？”
“To you?”
“向你？”
MacQueen’s astonished tone told Poirot quite certainly that the young man had not known of it.
麦昆惊讶的语调使白罗相信这年轻人确乎是不知情。
The detective nodded. “Yes. He was alarmed. Tell me, how did he act when he received the first letter?”
侦探点了点头，说：“不错，他曾告诉过我风声有些不妙。现在请你告诉我，他收到那些恐吓信之后有什么反应？”
MacQueen hesitated.
麦昆想了想。
“It’s difficult to say. He—he—passed it off with a laugh in that quiet way of his. But somehow—” he gave a slight shiver—“I felt that there was a good deal going on underneath the quietness.”
“很难说。他——他——一如往常般很镇定地一笑置之。不过，”说着，打了个寒噤：“我总觉得他镇定的神色之下，掩藏着许多不安的情绪。”
Poirot nodded. Then he asked an unexpected question.
白罗点了点头，然后出其不意地问道：
“Mr. MacQueen, will you tell me, quite honestly, exactly how you regarded your employer? Did you like him?”
“麦昆先生，你可否坦白地告诉我，你到底对你的老板印象如何？你喜欢这个人吗？”
Hector MacQueen took a moment or two before replying.
海洛特·麦昆沉默了良久。
“No,” he said at last. “I did not.”
“不，”他终于说了话：“我不喜欢他。”
“Why.”
“为什么？”
“I can’t exactly say. He was always quite pleasant in his manner.” He paused, then said: “I’ll tell you the truth, Mr. Poirot. I disliked and distrusted him. He was, I am sure, a cruel and dangerous man. I must admit, though, that I have no reasons to advance for my opinion.”
“也说不出所以然来，他一向对人倒是蛮和气的。”他顿了顿，又说：“我坦白对你说吧，白罗先生，我不喜欢他，也不相信这个人。我敢说，他准是个残酷而凶险的人。不过，我的确不能否认，我实在说不出理由，自己何以有这种看法。”
“Thank you, Mr. MacQueen. One further question: when did you last see Mr. Ratchett alive?”
“谢谢你，麦昆先生。我还有一个问题，请问你最后一次看见罗嘉德先生还健在，是什么时辰？”
“Last evening about—” he thought for a minute—“ten o’clock, I should say. I went into his compartment to take down some memoranda from him.”
“昨天晚上大约——”他想了想说：“我看是十点钟左右。我去他卧铺房间去记录一些备忘的事务。”
“On what subject?”
“关于哪方面的？”
“Some tiles and antique pottery that he bought in Persia. What had been delivered was not what he had purchased. There has been a long, vexatious correspondence on the subject.”
“是他在波斯买的一些瓦片、陶器古董的事。那边送来的货并不是他原先购买的。为此，双方有一段长时期的通信争执。”
“And that was the last time Mr. Ratchett was seen alive?”
“这就是你最后一次看到罗嘉德先生还活着了？”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“我想是的。”
“Do you know when Mr. Ratchett received the last threatening letter?”
“你知道罗嘉德先生是什么时候收到那最后一封恐吓信的吗？”
“On the morning of the day we left Constantinople.”
“是我们离开康君坦丁堡的那天早上。”
“There is one more question I must ask you, Mr. MacQueen. Were you on good terms with your employer?”
“还有最后一个问题，麦昆先生，你与你的老板相处还好吗？”
The young man’s eyes twinkled suddenly.
年轻人双眼猛地一眨。
“This is where I’m supposed to go all goosefleshy down the back. In the words of a best seller, ‘You’ve nothing on me.’ Ratchett and I were on perfectly good terms.”
“这我该脊椎骨发凉、浑身起鸡皮疙瘩了吧？套句小说中的老话：”你可扯不进我去的。‘我跟老板相处得可是一直很副洽的。“
“Perhaps, Mr. MacQueen, you will give me your full name and your address in America.”
”也许，麦昆先生，你可以把你的全名与在美国的住址留下给我们吧？“
MacQueen gave his name—Hector Willard MacQueen—and an address in New York.
麦昆写下的是——海洛特·威拉德·麦昆与在纽约的一个地址。
Poirot leaned back against the cushions.
白罗将身子靠回到椅背上。
“That is all for the present, Mr. MacQueen,” he said. “I should be obliged if you would keep the matter of Mr. Ratchett’s death to yourself for a little time.”
“目前就与你谈到这里，麦昆先生，”他说：“如果你能把罗嘉德先生的遇害暂时保密，我会十分感激。”
“His valet, Masterman, will have to know.”
“他的男仆总不能不告诉吧。”
“He probably knows already,” said Poirot drily. “If so, try to get him to hold his tongue.”
“他可能已经知道了，”白罗冷冷地说：“果若如此，也请他三缄其口。”
“That oughtn’t to be difficult. He’s a Britisher and, as he calls it, he ‘keeps to himself.’ He has a low opinion of Americans, and no opinion at all of any other nationality.”
“那倒不是难事。他是英国人，按他自己说，他是‘不多话’的。他对美国人看得不高，对其他国家的人则是根本没有意见。”
“Thank you, Mr. MacQueen.”
“谢谢你，麦昆先生。”
The American left the carriage.
这美国人离开了房间。
“Well?” demanded M. Bouc. “You believe what he says, this young man?”
“怎么样？”波克先生问：“你相信这小伙子的话吗？”
“He seems honest and straightforward. He did not pretend to any affection for his employer, as he probably would have done had he been involved in any way. It is true, Mr. Ratchett did not tell him that he had tried to enlist my services and failed, but I do not think that that is really a suspicious circumstance. I fancy Mr. Ratchett was a gentleman who kept his own counsel on every possible occasion.”
“他倒是挺诚实、直率的。他并没有假装对他老板有好感，要是他有什么嫌疑，他也许会另编一套说词。另外，我看罗嘉德先生没有告诉他曾找过我的事，也是实情。我觉得罗嘉德先生确是那种一切自己作主的人。”
“So you pronounce one person at least innocent of the crime,” said M. Bouc jovially.
“这么说，你至少认为这节列车上有一名旅客是没有嫌疑的了？”波克先生兴奋地说。
Poirot cast on him a look of reproach.
白罗略显责怪地扫了他一眼。
“Me, I suspect everybody till the last minute,” he said. “All the same, I must admit that I cannot see this sober, long-headed MacQueen losing his head andstabbing his victim twelve or fourteen times. It is not in accord with his psychology—not at all.”
“我嘛，在最后一分钟之前，是谁也怀疑的。不过，我得承认，我看不出这位冷静、精明的麦昆先生会发了疯把自己的老板乱刺个十几刀的。这与他的心理状态不符合——完全不符合。”
“No,” said M. Bouc thoughtfully. “That is the act of a man driven almost crazy with a frenzied hate—it suggests rather the Latin temperament. Or else it suggests, as our friend the chef de train insisted—a woman.”
“的确如此，”波克先生用了点脑筋说：“只有基于深仇大恨完全失去理智的人，才做得出这种事的。很有点拉丁民族的个性。要不，就像我们总列车长所说的，是个女人下的手。”