Chapter 24  POIROT GIVES ADVICE 

It took the millionaire some few minutes to take the thing in. He stared at Poirot as though dumbfounded. The little Belgian nodded at him gently. 

"Yes," he said, "it alters the position, does it not?" 

"Imitation!" 

He leaned forward. 

"All along, M. Poirot, you have had this idea? All along this is what you have been driving at? You never believed that the Comte de la Roche was the murderer?" 

"I have had doubts," said Poirot quietly. "I said as much to you. Robbery with violence and murder -" he shook his head energetically - "no, it is difficult to picture. It does not harmonize with the personality of the Comte de la Roche." 

"But you believe that he meant to steal the rubies?" 

"Certainly. There is no doubt as to that. See, I will recount to you the affair as I see it. The Comte knew of the rubies and he laid his plans accordingly. He made up a romantic story of a book he was writing, so as to induce your daughter to bring them with her. He provided himself with an exact duplicate. It is clear, is it not, that substitution is what he was after. Madame, your daughter, was not an expert on jewels. It would probably be a long time before she discovered what had occurred. When she did so - well - I do not think she would prosecute the Comte. Too much would come out. 

He would have in his possession various letters of hers. Oh yes, a very safe scheme from the Comte's point of view - one that he has probably carried out before." 

"It seems clear enough, yes," said Van Aldin musingly. 

"It accords with the personality of the Comte de la Roche," said Poirot. 

"Yes, but now -" Van Aldin looked searchingly at the other. "What actually happened? Tell me that, M. Poirot." 

Poirot shrugged his shoulders. 

"It is quite simple," he said, "someone stepped in ahead of the Comte." 

There was a long pause. 

Van Aldin seemed to be turning things over in his mind. When he spoke it was without beating about the bush. 

"How long have you suspected my son-in-law, M. Poirot?" 

"From the very first. He had the motive and the opportunity. Everyone took for granted that the man in Madame's compartment 

in Paris was the Comte de la Roche. I thought so, too. Then you happened to mention that you had once mistaken the Comte for your son-in-law. That told me that they were of the same height and build, and alike in colouring. It put some curious ideas in my head. The maid had only been with your daughter a short time. It was unlikely that she would know Mr Kettering well by sight, since he had not been living in Curzon Street; also the man was careful to keep his face turned away." 

"You believe he - murdered her," said Van Aldin hoarsely. 

Poirot raised a hand quickly. 

"No, no, I did not say that - but it is a possibility - a very strong possibility. He was in a tight corner, a very tight corner, threatened with ruin. This was the one way out." 

"But why take the jewels?" 

"To make the crime appear an ordinary one committed by train robbers. Otherwise suspicion might have fallen on him straight away." 

"If that is so, what has he done with the rubies?" 

"That remains to be seen. There are several possibilities. There is a man in Nice who may be able to help, the man I pointed out at the tennis." 

He rose to his feet and Van Aldin rose also and laid his hand on the little man's shoulder. 

His voice when he spoke was harsh with emotion. 

"Find Ruth's murderer for me," he said, "that is all I ask." 

Poirot drew himself up. 

"Leave it in the hands of Hercule Poirot," he said superbly, "have no fears. I will discover the truth." 

He brushed a speck of fluff from his hat, smiled reassuringly at the millionaire, and left the room. Nevertheless, as he went down the stairs some of the confidence faded from his face. 

"It is all very well," he murmured to himself, "but there are difficulties. Yes, there are great difficulties." As he was passing out of the hotel he came to a sudden halt. A car had drawn up in front of the door. In it was Katherine Grey, and Derek Kettering was standing beside it talking to her earnestly. 

A minute or two later the car drove off and Derek remained standing on the pavement looking after it. The expression on his face was an odd one. He gave a sudden impatient gesture of the shoulders, sighed deeply, and turned to find Hercule Poirot standing at his elbow. In spite of himself he started. The two men looked at each other. Poirot steadily and unwaveringly and Derek with a kind of light-hearted defiance. There was a sneer behind the easy mockery of his tone when he spoke, raising his eyebrows slightly as he did so. 

"Rather a dear, isn't she?" he asked easily. 

His manner was perfectly natural. 

"Yes," said Poirot thoughtfully, "that describes Mademoiselle Katherine very well. It is very English, that phrase there, and Mademoiselle Katherine, she also is very English." 

Derek remained perfectly still without answering. 

"And yet she is sympathique, is it not so?" 

"Yes," said Derek, "there are not many like her." 

He spoke softly, almost as though to himself. Poirot nodded significantly. Then he leant towards the other and spoke in a different tone, a quiet, grave tone that was new to Derek Kettering. 

"You will pardon an old man, Monsieur, if he says to you something that you may consider impertinent. There is one of your English proverbs that I would quote to you. It says that 'it is well to be off with the old love, before being on with the new.'" 

Kettering turned on him angrily. "What the devil do you mean?" 

"You enrage yourself at me," said Poirot placidly. "I expected as much. As to what I mean - I mean, Monsieur, that there is a second car with a lady in it. If you turn your head you will see her." 

Derek spun around. His face darkened with anger. 

"Mirelle, damn her!" he muttered. "I will soon -" 

Poirot arrested the movement he was about to make. 

"Is it wise what you are about to do there?" he asked warningly. His eyes shone brightly with a green light in them. But Derek was past noticing the warning signs. In his manner he was completely off his guard. 

"I have broken with her utterly, and she knows it," cried Derek angrily. 

"You have broken with her, yes, but has she broken with you?" 

Derek gave a sudden harsh laugh. 

"She won't break with two million pounds if she can help it," he murmured brutally, "trust Mirelle for that." 

Poirot raised his eyebrows. 

"You have the outlook cynical," he murmured. 

"Have I?" There was no mirth in his sudden wide smile. "I have lived in the world long enough, M. Poirot, to know that all women are pretty much alike." His face softened suddenly. "All save one." 

He met Poirot's gaze defiantly. A look of alertness crept into his eyes, then faded again. "That one," he said, and jerked his head in the direction of Cap Martin. 

"Ah!" said Poirot. 

This quiescence was well calculated to provoke the impetuous temperament of the other. 

"I know what you are going to say," said Derek rapidly, "the kind of life I have led, the fact that I am not worthy of her. You will say that I have no right to think even of such a thing. You will say that it is not a case of giving a dog a bad name - I know that it is not decent to be speaking like this with my wife dead only a few days, and murdered at that." 

He paused for breath, and Poirot took advantage of the pause to remark in his plaintive tone. 

"But, indeed, I have not said anything at all." 

"But you will." 

"Eh?" said Poirot. 

"You will say that I have no earthly chance of marrying Katherine." 

"No," said Poirot, "I would not say that. Your reputation is bad, yes, but with women - never does that deter them. If you were a man of excellent character, of strict morality who had done nothing that he should not do, and - possibly everything that he should do - eh bien! then I should have grave doubts of your success. Moral worth, you understand, it is not romantic. It is appreciated, however, by widows." 

Derek Kettering stared at him, then he swung round on his heel and went up to the waiting car. 

Poirot looked after him with some interest. He saw the lovely vision lean out of the car and speak. 

Derek Kettering did not stop. He lifted his hat and passed straight on. 

"?a y est," said M. Hercule Poirot, "it is time, I think, that I return chez moi." 

He found the imperturbable George pressing trousers. 

"A pleasant day, Georges, somewhat fatiguing, but not without interest," he said. 

George received these remarks in his usual wooden fashion. 

"Indeed, sir." 

"The personality of a criminal, Georges, is an interesting matter. Many murderers are men of great personal charm." 

"I always heard, sir, that Dr Crippen was a pleasant-spoken gentleman. And yet he cut up his wife like so much mincemeat." 

"Your instances are always apt, Georges." 

The valet did not reply, and at that moment the telephone rang. Poirot took up the receiver. 

"'Allo - 'allo - yes, yes, it is Hercule Poirot who speaks." 

"This is Knighton. Will you hold the line a minute, M. Poirot? Mr Van Aldin would like to speak to you." 

There was a moment's pause, then the millionaire's voice came through. 

"Is that you, M. Poirot? I just wanted to tell you, Mason came to me now of her own accord. She has been thinking it over, and she says that she is almost certain that the man at Paris was Derek Kettering. There was something familiar about him at the time, she says, but at the minute she could not place it. She seems pretty certain now." 

"Ah," said Poirot, "thank you, M. Van Aldin. That advances us." 

He replaced the receiver, and stood for a minute or two with a very curious smile on his face. George had to speak to him twice before obtaining an answer. 

"Eh?" said Poirot. "What is that that you say to me?" 

"Are you lunching here, sir, or are you going out?" 

"Neither," said Poirot, "I shall go to bed and take a tisane. The expected has happened, and when the expected happens, it always causes me emotion." 

第二十四章 波洛的忠告

    百万富翁迷惑不解地看着波洛。过了很久他才恢复常态。侦探狡滑地看着他。

    “怎么样，事情又呈现出另外一种面貌了吧？”

    “那是复制品？”

    百万富翁弯下身来。

    “您是否最初就有这个想法？您是不是从来就不相信罗歇伯爵是凶手？”

    “至少，我对此有怀疑。”波洛平静地回答道。“我从来就不认为伯爵是一个抢劫杀人犯。这不符合他的性格特点。”

    “那么说，他只是为了宝石？”

    “这是不言而喻的事。我认为事情是这样的：伯爵知道了这些宝石的下落，因此就拟定了一套相应的计划。他编造了一段有关宝石的浪漫的故事，以便让您的女儿把宝石带在身边。他自己制造了一个非常相似的复制品，企图在适当的时机偷天换日，把原物弄到手。如果那样，您女儿一定要在很久以后才会发现这个骗局，也只有到那时，她才有可能去控告他。不过，我自己不太相信她会那样做。伯爵那里一定有您女儿的很多信件，是啊，他一切都做得很妙，可能他不止一次的干过这种欺骗勾当了。”

    “您说的这一切都是当然可信的。”冯·阿尔丁不得不承认。

    “首先，这种行为是同伯爵这个人的品格相一致的。”

    “但事实上究竟发生了什么事，波洛先生？请您告诉我！”

    波洛耸了一下肩膀。

    “有人在伯爵之前已经捷足先登了。”

    沉默了好一阵子。冯·阿尔丁的脑子在激烈地思考着。之后他以商量的口气问道：

    “波洛先生，您从什么时候开始怀疑我的女婿？”

    “从一开始。动机和条件都存在。每个人都自然地认为，在您女儿的包厢里的那个人是罗歇伯爵。起初，我也这样认为。有一次，您偶尔提到，说您把伯爵当成了您的女婿。这说明，这两个人的体形和头发的颜色有些相似。这给我提供了一条非常值得注意的线索。女仆不久前才到您女儿那里，凯特林先生的外貌她几乎说不清楚，因为，他不住在自己的夫人那里，而且也很少去看她。另外，火车上的那个人还尽量不让人家看到他的脸部。”

    “您相信，是他杀的？”冯·阿尔丁悲痛地问道。

    波洛站了起来，挥着手。

    “不，不，我从没有这样说过。这只是一种可能——除此之外，别无他意。由于经济方面的原因，他现在已经陷于崩溃的边缘。此举是他的一条出路。”

    “但是，他为什么要把宝石拿走？”

    “是为了造成一种假象，让人觉得似乎这个案子只是一般的盗窃案。如果他不把宝石拿走，那么人们一开始就会怀疑是他了。”

    “他是怎样处理这些宝石的呢？”

    “尼扎有一个人，我们已经知道了一些他的情况，就是昨天在网球场上我指给您看的那位古玩商。”

    他站起身来，冯·阿尔丁也同时站起来。冯·阿尔丁把手搭在小老头的肩膀上，声音有些颤抖地说道：“希望您能把杀害露丝的凶手侦查出来。”

    “请您把事情包在赫库勒·波洛身上。”侦探以自豪的神态回答道。但是，当他走到大厅的时候，他的自信心又有点渺茫了。

    “一切都进行得非常顺利，但是，毕竟我们还没有找到凶手。”他自言自语道。

    在旅馆大门口他突然收住了脚步。一辆汽车驶到近旁。里面坐着卡泰丽娜·格蕾。

德里克·凯特林靠近了汽车，似乎很想同女士搭话。一分钟之后，汽车开走了。德里克深深地叹了一口长气，回转身来正与波洛打了个照面。他不由自主地停了一下。两人相互凝视着，波洛平静而自信，而德里克却是满面烦恼而暴躁的神色。

    “很可爱的女子，是吗？”德里克若无其事地说道。

    波洛神态自若。

    “正是。”波洛慢腾腾地说。“很可爱，甚至是一个非常可爱的女子。”

    “这样的女人现在可不多。”

    德里克说这话时声音很低，仿佛是说给自己听。波洛点点头。然后他走到德里克的身旁，以一种德里克从未熟悉的声调说道：

    “如果，我的话说得失礼，那么请您原谅我这个老头，凯特林先生。有一句英国谚语说：‘前缘未断，莫结新欢’。”

    凯特林愤愤地看着他。

    “见鬼，您这是什么意思？”

    “我的话您听起来很刺耳。”波洛心平气和地说。“我也料到会是这样。为了您明白我的话的含义，请您转过身来，凯特林先生，您会看到另一辆汽车上也坐着一位女士。”

    德里克猛然一回头。他的脸立即气得发红。“该死的米蕾。”他咀咒着。“我有时真想……”

    波洛打断了他的话。

    “您那是聪明的做法吗？”他严肃地问道。他眼里闪着一丝绿色的光芒。但是德里克没有看出这眼光里的警告信号。他如果是在气头上，就是丢掉自己的脑袋也在所不惜。

    “我同她已经了结了，这点她知道。”

    “可是，她同您是否也已经了结了？”

    德里克嘿嘿地笑着。

    “她现在正提防着，别让那二百万英镑白白跑掉。”他一针见血地指出。“您去依靠米蕾好了！”

    “您真能嘲弄人，亲爱的朋友。”波洛低声说。

    “我真能嘲弄人？”德里克苦笑着说。“我在这个世界上已经活得够了，波洛先生，我看女人都是一类货色。”他的面部突然现出无可奈何的神情。“都一样，只有一个人是例外，就是她。”他把目光转向卡泰丽娜的汽车驶去的方向。

    “噢，您是说她。”

    波洛说话的语调异常平静，而这只会更加激起这位年轻人的满腹怒气。

    “我知道您想说什么！”他的声音有点沙哑。“您是想说，我过的这种生活，而眼睛又盯上了这样一个女人，这是罪孽。您是想说，我的老婆几天前才被人杀害，现在正长眠在地下，我应该感到羞愧。”

    “可是，这些话我连一句都没说过。”

    “您是这样想的。”

    “噢？”

    “您说句真话，难道我就再不能把卡泰丽娜叫作我的心人吗？”

    “这我可不能说。”波洛郑重其事地说。“当然，您的名声很坏，但正因为如此，才对女人有吸引力。相反，如果您具有高度的教养，一生中从来没有在忠贞的道路上走错一步，那您就不会有这个机会了。”

    但是，德里克却没有再去听他讲些什么。他急忙吹去帽子上的灰尘，快步向米蕾的汽车方向走去。侦探还看到，这个舞女如何把一束异国的鲜花从窗口递出来。

    回到家的时候，正看见他那仪表堂堂的仆人在忙着熨衣服。

    “今天过得不错，乔治，虽然有点疲倦，但决不是乏味的。”他说道。

    “是这样，先生。”

    “凶手到底是谁？乔治，这仍然是个有趣的题目。有些凶手还是很有教养的人。”

    “我听过，先生，我听说克里平医生是受人敬重的一位绅士，可是尽管如此，他还是把自己的夫人剁成了肉末。”

    “你举的例子总是那么恰当。”

    乔治没有吱声。电话铃响了，波洛拿起了话筒。

    “喂！是，我是赫库勒·波洛。”

    “我是奈顿。冯·阿尔丁先生想同您讲话。”随后就听出了百万富翁的声音。

    “您是波洛先生？我只想告诉您一件事。女仆马松又到我这里来了一趟。她对我说，她现在几乎可以肯定，以巴黎上火车的那个人就是德里克·凯特林。她说，她可以立即就认出是德里克。但是，开始的时候她没有想到会是这样。现在她对此已确信无疑。”

    “谢谢。”波洛说，“这样的话，就又把我们向前推了一步。”

    他把话筒放下，站在电话机旁边若有所思地微笑了一会儿。乔治叫了他两次，他都没听见。

    “噢，噢。”他心不在焉地嘟哝着。“你是想干什么来着？”

    “您是在家吃午饭，还是到外面吃？”

    “也不在家吃，也不在外面吃。”波洛说道。“我想到床上躺一会儿，再喝了杯菊花茶。我期待的时刻已经到来，要是这样，那我就有点激动。”