Chapter 35 EXPLANATIONS 

"Explanations?" 

Poirot smiled. He was sitting opposite the millionaire at a luncheon table in the latter's private suite at the Negresco. Facing him was a relieved but very puzzled man. Poirot leant back in his chair, lit one of his tiny cigarettes, and stared reflectively at the ceiling. 

"Yes, I will give you explanations. It began with the one point that puzzled me. You know what that point was? The disfigured face. It is not an uncommon thing to find when investigating a crime and it rouses an immediate question, the question of identity. That naturally was the first thing that occurred to me. Was the dead woman really Mrs Kettering? But that line led me nowhere, for Miss Grey's evidence was positive and very reliable, so I put that idea aside. The dead woman was Ruth Kettering." 

"When did you first begin to suspect the maid?" 

"Not for some time, but one peculiar little point drew my attention to her. The cigarette-case found in the railway carriage and which she told us was one which Mrs Kettering had given to her husband. Now that was, on the face of it, most improbable, seeing the terms that they were on. It awakened a doubt in my mind as to the general veracity of Ada Mason's statements. There was the rather suspicious fact to be taken into consideration, that she had only been with her mistress for two months. Certainly it did not seem as if she could have had anything to do with the crime since she had been left behind in Paris and Mrs Kettering had been seen alive by several people afterwards, but -" 

Poirot leant forward. He raised an emphatic forefinger and wagged it with intense emphasis at Van Aldin. 

"But I am a good detective. I suspect. There is nobody and nothing that I do not suspect. I believe nothing that I am told. I say to myself: how do we know that Ada Mason was left behind in Paris? 

And at first the answer to that question seemed completely satisfactory. There was the evidence of your secretary, Major Knighton, a complete outsider whose testimony might be 

supposed to be entirely impartial, and there was the dead woman's own words to the conductor on the train. But I put the latter point aside for the moment, because a very curious idea - an idea perhaps fantastic and impossible - was growing up in my mind. If by any outside chance it happened to be true, that particular piece of testimony was worthless. 

"I concentrated on the chief stumbling-block to my theory. Major Knighton's statement that he saw Ada Mason at the Ritz after the Blue Train had left Paris. That seemed conclusive enough, but yet, on examining the facts carefully, I noted two things. First, that by a curious coincidence he, too, had been exactly two months in your service. Secondly, his initial letter was the same - 'K.' Supposing - just supposing - that it was his cigarette case which had been found in the carriage. Then, if Ada Mason and he were working together, and she recognized it when we showed it to her, would she not act precisely as she had done? At first, taken aback, she quickly evolved a plausible theory that would agree with Mr Kettering's guilt. Bien entendu, that was not the original idea. The Comte de la Roche was to be the scapegoat, though Ada Mason would not make her recognition of him too certain, in case he should be able to prove an alibi. Now, if you will cast your mind back to that time, you will remember a significant thing that happened. I suggested to Ada Mason that the man she had seen was not the Comte de la Roche, but Derek Kettering. She seemed 

uncertain at the time, but after I had got back to my hotel you rang me up and told me that she had come to you and said that, on thinking it over, she was now quite convinced that the man in question was Mr Kettering. I had been expecting something of the kind. There could be but one explanation of this sudden certainty on her part. After my leaving your hotel, she had had time to consult with somebody, and had received instructions which she acted upon. Who had given her these instructions? Major Knighton. And there was another very small point, which might mean nothing or might mean a great deal. In casual conversation Knighton had talked of a jewel robbery in Yorkshire in a house where he was staying. Perhaps a mere coincidence - perhaps another small link in the chain." 

"But there is one thing I do not understand, Monsieur Poirot. I guess I must be dense or I would have seen it before now. Who was the man in the train at Paris? Derek Kettering or the Comte de la Roche?" 

"That is the simplicity of the whole thing. There was no man. Ah - mille tonnerres! - do you not see the cleverness of it all? Whose word have we for it that there ever was a man there? Only Ada Mason's. And we believe in Ada Mason because of Knighton's evidence that she was left behind in Paris." 

"But Ruth herself told the conductor that she had left her maid behind there," demurred Van Aldin. 

"Ah! I am coming to that. We have Mrs Kettering's own evidence there, but, on the other hand, we have not really got her evidence, because, Monsieur Van Aldin, a dead woman cannot give 

evidence. It is not her evidence, but the evidence of the conductor of the train - a very different affair altogether." 

"So you think the man was lying?" 

"No, no, not at all. He spoke what he thought to be the truth. But the woman who told him that she had left her maid in Paris was not Mrs Kettering." 

Van Aldin stared at him. 

"Monsieur Van Aldin, Ruth Kettering was dead before the train arrived at the Gare de Lyon. It was Ada Mason, dressed in her mistress's very distinctive clothing, who purchased a dinner basket and who made that very necessary statement to the conductor." 

"Impossible!" 

"No, no, Monsieur Van Aldin; not impossible. Les femmes, they look so much alike nowadays that one identifies them more by their clothing than by their faces. Ada Mason was the same height as your daughter. Dressed in that very sumptuous fur coat and the little red lacquer hat jammed down over her eyes, with just a bunch of auburn curls showing over each ear, it was no wonder that the conductor was deceived. He had not previously spoken to Mrs Kettering, you remember. True, he had seen the maid just for a moment when she handed him the tickets, but his impression had been merely that of a gaunt, black-clad female. If he had been an unusually intelligent man, he might have gone so far as to say that mistress and maid were not unlike, but it is extremely unlikely that he would even think that. And remember, Ada Mason, or Kitty Kidd, was an actress, able to change her appearance and tone of voice at a moment's notice. No, no, there was no danger of his recognizing the maid in the mistress's clothing, but there was the danger that when he came to discover the body he might realize it was not the woman he had talked to the night before. And now we see the reason for the disfigured face. The chief danger that Ada Mason ran was that Katherine Grey might visit her compartment after the train left Paris, and she provided against that difficulty by ordering a dinner basket and by locking herself in her compartment." 

"But who killed Ruth - and when?" 

"First, bear it in mind that the crime was planned and undertaken by the two of them - Knighton and Ada Mason, working together. Knighton was in Paris that day on your business. He boarded the train somewhere on its way round the ceinture. Mrs Kettering would be surprised, but she would be quite unsuspicious. Perhaps he draws her attention to something out the window, and as she turns to look he slips the cord round her neck - and the whole thing is over in a second or two. The door of the compartment is locked, and he and Ada Mason set to work. They strip off the dead woman's outer clothes. Mason and Knighton roll the body up in a rug and put it on the seat in the adjoining compartment amongst the bags and suitcases. Knighton drops off the train, taking the jewel-case containing the rubies with him. Since the crime is not supposed to have been committed until nearly twelve hours later he is perfectly safe, and his evidence and the supposed Mrs Kettering's words to the conductor will provide a perfect alibi for his accomplice. 

"At the Gare de Lyon Ada Mason gets a dinner basket, and shutting herself into the toilet compartment she quickly changes into her mistress's clothes, adjusts two false bunches of auburn curls, and generally makes up to resemble her as closely as possible. When the conductor comes to make up the bed, she tells him the prepared story about having left her maid behind in Paris, and whilst he is making up the berth, she stands looking out of the window, so that her back is towards the corridor and people passing along there. That was a wise precaution, because, as we know, Miss Grey was one of those passing, and she among others, was willing to swear that Mrs Kettering was still alive at that hour." 

"Go on," said Van Aldin. 

"Before getting to Lyons, Ada Mason arranged her mistress's body in the bunk, folded up the dead woman's clothes neatly on the end of it, and herself changed into a man's clothes and prepared to leave the train. When Derek Kettering entered his wife's compartment, and, as he thought, saw her asleep in her berth, the scene had been set, and Ada Mason was hidden in the next compartment waiting for the moment to leave the train unobserved. As soon as the conductor had swung himself down on to the platform at Lyons, she follows, slouching along as though just taking a breath of air. At a moment when she is unobserved, she hurriedly crosses to the other platform, and takes the first train back to Paris and the Ritz Hotel. Her name has been registered there as taking a room the night before by one of Knighton's female accomplices. She has nothing to do but wait there placidly for your arrival. The jewels are not, and never have been, in her possession. Kettering had them. No suspicion attaches to him, and, as your secretary, he brings them to Nice without the least fear of discovery. Their delivery there to Monsieur Papopolous is already arranged for and they are entrusted to Mason at the last moment to hand over to the Greek. Altogether a very neatly planned coup, as one would expect from a master of the game such as the Marquis." 

"And you honestly mean that Richard Knighton is a well-known criminal, who has been at this business for years?" 

Poirot nodded. 

"One of the chief assets of the gentleman called the Marquis was his plausible, ingratiating manner. You fell a victim to his charm, Monsieur Van Aldin, when you engaged him as a secretary on such a slight acquaintanceship?" 

"I could have sworn that he never angled for the post," cried the millionaire. 

"It was very astutely done - so astutely done that it deceived a man whose knowledge of other men is as great as yours is." 

"I looked up his antecedents too. The fellow's record was excellent." 

"Yes, yes; that was part of the game. As Richard Knighton his life was quite free from reproach. He was well-born, well-connected, did honourable service in the war, and seemed altogether above suspicion; but when I came to glean information about the mysterious Marquis, I found many points of similarity. Knighton spoke French like a Frenchman, he had been in America, France, 

and England at much the same time as the Marquis was operating. The Marquis was last heard of as engineering various jewel robberies in Switzerland, and it was in Switzerland that you had come across Major Knighton; and it was at precisely that time that the first rumours were going round of your being in treaty for the famous rubies." 

"But why murder?" murmured Van Aldin brokenly. "Surely a clever thief could have stolen the jewels without running his head into a noose." 

Poirot shook his head. "This is not the first murder that lies to the Marquis's charge. He is a killer by instinct; he believes, too, in leaving no evidence behind him. Dead men and women tell no tales. 

"The Marquis had an intense passion for famous and historical jewels. He laid his plans far beforehand by installing himself as your secretary and getting his accomplice to obtain the situation of maid with your daughter, for whom he guessed the jewels were destined. And, though this was his matured and carefully thought- out plan, he did not scruple to attempt a short-cut by hiring a couple of Apaches to waylay you in Paris on the night you bought the jewels. That plan failed, which hardly surprised him, I think. This plan was, so he thought, completely safe. No possible suspicion could attach to Richard Knighton. But like all great men 

-and the Marquis was a great man - he had his weaknesses. He fell genuinely in love with Miss Grey, and suspecting her liking for Derek Kettering, he could not resist the temptation to saddle him with the crime when the opportunity presented itself. And now, Monsieur Van Aldin, I am going to tell you something very curious. Miss Grey is not a fanciful woman by any means, yet she firmly believes that she felt your daughter's presence beside her one day in the Casino Gardens at Monte Carlo, just after she had been having a long talk with Knighton. She was convinced, she says, that the dead woman was urgently trying to tell her something, and it suddenly came to her that what the dead woman was trying to say was that Knighton was her murderer! The idea seemed so fantastic at the time that Miss Grey spoke of it to no one. But she was so convinced of its truth that she acted on it - wild as it seemed. She did not discourage Knighton's advances, and she pretended to him that she was convinced of Derek Kettering's guilt." 

"Extraordinary," said Van Aldin. 

"Yes, it is very strange. One cannot explain these things. Oh, by the way, there is one little point that baffled me considerably. Your secretary has a decided limp - the result of a wound that he received in the war. Now the Marquis most decidedly did not limp. That was a stumbling-block. But Miss Lenox Tamplin happened to 

mention one day that Knighton's limp had been a surprise to the surgeons who had been in charge of the case in her mother's hospital. That suggested camouflage. When I was in London I went to the surgeon in question, and I got several technical details from him which confirmed me in that belief. I mentioned the name of that surgeon in Knighton's hearing the day before yesterday. The natural thing would have been for Knighton to mention that he had been attended by him during the war, but he said nothing - and that little point, if nothing else, gave me the last final assurance that my theory of the crime was correct. Miss Grey, too, provided me with a cutting, showing that there had been a robbery at Lady Tamplin's hospital during the time that Knighton had been there. She realized that I was on the same track as herself when I wrote to her from the Ritz in Paris. 

"I had some trouble in my inquiries there, but I got what I wanted - evidence that Ada Mason arrived on the morning after the crime and not on the evening of the day before." 

There was a long silence, then the millionaire stretched out a hand to Poirot across the table. 

"I guess you know what this means to me, Monsieur Poirot," he said huskily. "I am sending you round a cheque in the morning, but no cheque in the world will express what I feel about what you have done for me. You are the goods, Monsieur Poirot. Every time, you are the goods." 

Poirot rose to his feet; his chest swelled. 

"I am only Hercule Poirot," he said modestly, "yet, as you say, in my own way I am a big man, even as you also are a big man. I am glad and happy to have been of service to you. Now I go to repair the damages caused by travel. Alas! my excellent Georges is not with me." 

In the lounge of the hotel he encountered a friend - the venerable Monsieur Papopolous, his daughter Zia beside him. 

"I thought you had left Nice, Monsieur Poirot," murmured the Greek as he took the detective's affectionately proffered hand. 

"Business 

compelled 

me 

to 

return, my 

dear 

Monsieur 

Papopolous." 

"Business?" 

"Yes, business. And talking of business, I hope your health is better, my dear friend?" 

"Much better. In fact, we are returning to Paris tomorrow." 

"I am enchanted to hear such good news. You have not completely ruined the Greek ex-Minister, I hope." 

"I?" 

"I understand you sold him a very wonderful ruby which - strictly entre nous - is being worn by Mademoiselle Mirelle, the dancer?" 

"Yes," murmured Monsieur Papopolous, "yes, that is so." 

"A ruby not unlike the famous 'Heart of Fire'?" 

"It has points of resemblance, certainly," said the Greek casually. 

"You have a wonderful hand with jewels, Monsieur Papopolous. I congratulate you. Mademoiselle Zia, I am desolate that you are returning to Paris so speedily. I had hoped to see some more of you now that my business is accomplished." 

"Would one be indiscreet if one asked what that business was?" asked Monsieur Papopolous. 

"Not at all, not at all. I have just succeeded in laying the Marquis by the heels." 

A far-away look came over Monsieur Papopolous' noble 

countenance. 

"The Marquis?" he murmured, "now why does that seem familiar to me? No - I cannot recall it." 

"You would not, I am sure," said Poirot. "I refer to a very notable criminal and jewel robber. He has just been arrested for the murder of the English lady, Madame Kettering." 

"Indeed? How interesting these things are!" 

A polite exchange of farewells followed, and when Poirot was out of earshot. Monsieur Papopolous turned to his daughter. 

"Zia," he said, with feeling, "that man is the devil!" 

"I like him." 

"I like him myself," admitted Monsieur Papopolous. "But he is the devil, all the same." 

第三十五章 波洛的说明

    “说明？”波洛微微一笑。这时，他正同冯·阿尔丁在内格列斯库饭店吃午饭。从冯·阿尔丁的表情中可看得出，他既轻松又好奇。波洛舒服地坐在靠背椅上，点燃了一支细雪茄，呆呆地望着天花板。“说明？”他又重复地问了一句，“倒是很想说明一下。

您知道使我绞尽脑汁去思考的第一点是什么？是变了形的脸！在这类罪行中，本能的看法起很大的作用。当然人们首先会提出一个想法：死者果真是凯特林夫人吗？可是这一线索没有什么价值，因为格蕾小姐的口供是肯定的，而且绝对可信。因此，这种想法也就不存在了。对，死者就是露丝·凯特林嘛。”

    “您是什么时候第一次开始对女仆产生怀疑的？”

    “就在不久以前，一件微不足道的小事引起了我的注意。那就是在火车包厢里找到的烟盒。照她的说法，这很可能是德里克赠给他妻子的。这一点，我认为是根本就不可能的。他们俩早就分居了嘛！这时我对马松是否可靠产生了一点疑问。之后又出现了一些疑点：她在凯特林夫人那里只干了两个月的活。当然，当时我并没有肯定她同罪行有什么牵连，因为她被留在了巴黎，而且在她留下之后有人还看到凯特林夫人还活着。但是……”

    波洛直起身来，伸出食指指向天空，表情丰富地继续说道：“但是，我是个多年的侦探。我怀疑一切人，怀疑一切事情。我不相信别人对我讲的话。我问我自己：我们怎么可能知道艾达·马松被留在巴黎？对这个问题的初步回答使我很满意。这就是您的秘书的谈话，尽管他完全是一位局外人，但是他的话却完全可靠。除此之外，你女儿还亲自对乘务员讲过话，更证实了这一点。最后一点，当时我未能十分重视，我曾有一个很妙的想法，这个想法也许纯属主观想象，而不太可能符合实际。但是，如果这个想法成立，那么他们的说法就失却了意义。我当时集中精力分析一个情况，即奈顿少校在巴黎里茨饭店见到马松的时候正是‘蓝色特快’刚刚离开巴黎的时候。因此，我的那个小小的想法也就破了产。但经过仔细的观察，我又得到两点启发。第一，奈顿少校是两个月之前才到您这里工作的；第二，拾到烟盒上字同他的名字的第一个字母相同。我暂时作了一个假设，如果一个人善于假设，那他就能洞悉一切。假设这个烟盒是奈顿的。如果这个假设成立，如果他同马松一起作的案，那么当我们把烟盒拿给她看时，她脸上不就应该是当时那种表情吗？当然他俩在开始时就企图把罗歇伯爵作为替罪羊。请你好好回忆一下，当我向马松询问，她看到的那个人是否有可能是德里克·凯特林先生时，她起初有点犹豫；但当我回到旅馆以后，她却打电话告诉我说，她又进行了回忆并确信，她看见的这位先生就是德里克·凯特林。我早就料到她这一着了，对我来说，这不过是一种表白而已。在我离开您的饭店以后，她与某人碰头进行了协商。同谁？同奈顿少校！那么现在就剩下一件小事了，这件小事可能毫无意义，也可能意义重大。在一次无意的谈话中，他提到过在约克州乡下别墅内发生的一件宝石失盗案件。当然，上面所说可能纯属偶然，但也可能是我要证明的一个环节。”

    “但是，波洛，有一点我不明白。可能我的理解能力太差，否则，我早就应该豁然开朗了。在巴黎上车的那个男人到底是谁？是德里克·凯特林还是罗歇伯爵？”

    “答案简单得令人吃惊：根本就没有这样一个男人。您看，这个阴谋真可谓工于心计了，不是吗？究竟根据谁的说法，我们才认为有这样一个上车呢？当然是根据马松的说法，而我们为什么一直对马松的说法如此相信呢？就是因为奈顿曾经证明，马松被留在了巴黎。”

    “可是露丝亲口对乘务员讲过，说她把女仆留在了巴黎。”冯·阿尔丁打断他的话说道。

    “我正想说明这一点。当然，我们听说凯特林女士讲过这样的话；可是实际上那并不是她的话，一个死人是不会讲话的。至于列车员的说法，那完全是另一回事。”

    “难道那个乘务员在撒谎？”

    “绝对不是！他自己也认为他所讲的都是真情。但是，那个对他讲话的女人，说她把女仆留在巴黎的那个女人，不是凯特林女士。”

    冯·阿尔丁迷惑不解地看着他。

    “火车刚巴黎里昂站的时候，露丝·凯特林女士已经死了。是艾达·马松穿了女主人的衣服买了晚饭盒，并对乘务员讲了那句关键的话。”

    “这简直是难以置信！”

    “不，不，冯·阿尔丁先生。这不是不可能的。今天的女人们彼此相象，多半是由于穿同样的衣服，而少半是由于脸型相同。艾达·马松个头同您女儿差不多。穿上那样贵重的皮大衣，戴上那顶蒙着半个脸的红色漆帽，人们只能从侧面看到一两绺金黄色的卷发，这就很容易打马虎眼，这个乘务员在此之前没同凯特林女士谈过话，可能看到过一、两次女仆，在他的记忆里只留下了一个目光严肃、穿着一身黑衣服的女仆形象。除非有一个极为聪明的人，否则不可能发现，女主人同女仆人长得如此相象。请您不要忘记，艾达·马松原名叫吉蒂·基德，是一个女演员，因此她会改变说话的声音。不，不，乘务员把装扮主人的女仆辨认出来的危险，是不存在的。万一他以后又认出来，尸体不是前一天晚上同他讲话的那个女士，那怎么办？这就是他们将死者毁容的理由。对这帮罪犯唯一能构成危险的是卡泰丽娜·格蕾小姐。当火车离开巴黎之后，如果格蕾小姐再一次去女士的包厢来拜访她的话，这种危险就可能发生。为此，这个女罪犯想了一个花招，她买了一个饭盒，把包厢反锁上不出来了。”

    “到底是谁打死了我那可怜的露丝？是什么时候发生的事？”

    “罪行是由两个人共同谋划的。那一天奈顿在巴黎为您办了一桩交易。他隐匿在巴黎郊区环城铁路附近的一个角落，因为火车在环城铁路上行驶得很慢，有时还得停下，他就趁此机会跳上了火车。凯特林女士对奈顿的出现虽然感到奇怪，但她不会怀疑他有别的想法。他可能用一种什么借口使她向窗外看去，然后他从后面把绳子套住了她的脖子，一、两钞钟之后就完事了。门反锁上了，尸体被抬进了隔壁的包厢，奈顿拿着首饰盒跳下了火车。因为大家都认为死亡是在夜间十二点左右发生的，所以他是绝对安全的。

他的说法和所谓的凯特林女士同乘务员的谈话，为他的罪行造成了一个绝对可靠的‘不在现场’。”

    “在巴黎的里昂站，艾达·马松买她饭盒就回到了包厢，以最快的速度换上了女主人的衣服，并把准备好的两绺金黄色卷发戴在两鬓。然后乘务员来铺床，她就讲了那个众所周知的故事，说她把女仆留在了巴黎。在铺床的过程中，她一直扒在玻璃上望着窗外，后背朝着走廊，朝着那里来来往往的旅客们。这是一个非常重要的预防措旋。因为在那些来往走动的人们中间，就可能有格蕾小姐；如果她看见了，那么她就可以对天起誓地说，这时凯特林女士还活着。”

    “请您继续讲下去。”冯·阿尔丁极为震惊地说道。

    “火车一到里昂，艾达·马松就把女主人的尸体弄成象夜里睡觉的姿势，把死者的衣服扒掉，小心翼翼地放到床上，然后她自己换上了一套男装，准备下车。当德里克·凯特林走进妻子的包厢时，他还以为妻子在睡觉呢，而这时马松却藏在隔壁包厢里，伺机偷偷下车。在里昂城火车站，她装成了一位旅客到外面去呼吸新鲜空气。趁人们不注意的时候，她飞快地来到另外一个月台，登上正准备开住巴黎的里茨的火车。她的名字早在前一天就由奈顿的一个女同伙在里茨饭店登了记。她不费多大劲就平安无事地到了里茨饭店。首饰当然不在她的手中。奈顿悄悄地把它带到了尼扎。把货交给帕波波鲁斯一事，当然是早就商量好的。他是通过艾达·马松转交的。总的说来，这次阴谋活动干得颇为出色。对于这样的行动也只有侯爵这样的行家才当之无愧！”

    “您相信奈顿是罪犯？”

    波洛点点头。

    “这位先生故意做出样子，似乎他具有忠厚、可爱和谦虚这类最可贵的本质。就因为这个，您受了骗，冯·阿尔丁先生，虽然您只认识他两天，就把他收为秘书了。”

    “他当时可绝对没有表示非找这个职业不可。”百万富翁高声说道。

    “此人老奸巨滑，深谋远虑，可以长时间地愚弄您，他在关系学方面的造诣可能不亚于您。冯·阿尔丁先生。”

    “我也调查过他的历史，所有人都证明他是个好人。”

    “当然会这样。理查德·奈顿生活得安逸而幸福。战时他表现勇敢，忠于职守，看来无可非议。当我着手分析那位神秘的侯爵的材料时，发现了某些与他一致的地方。奈顿说得一口流利的法语，同真正的法国人完全一样，他在美国、法国和英国度过的时间同那位侯爵的‘工作时间’也正好相等。最后，人们曾谈论过瑞士的那起重大的首饰偷盗案，而您，先生，正是在瑞士认识了奈顿少校。也正是那个时候，有些知情人透露了您要买那件名贵宝石的消息。”

    “可是为什么要杀人呢？”冯·阿尔丁喃喃自语地说道。“如果是一起手段高超的盗窃案，完全可以不去冒杀人的风险而把宝石偷走。”

    波洛摇摇头。

    “这不是侯爵第一次制造血案了。他是个嗜血成性的杀人犯。另外，为万全计，他也不愿留下罪证，而死人是不能说话的。”

    “侯爵对名贵的、有历史价值的宝石有一种不可抑制的爱好。他钻营到您的秘书的职务时，早就阴谋策划对您女儿下毒手。宝石肯定会归露丝·凯特林，这一点他非常清楚。另外，他还企图在漫长而吃力的道路上少走一段路程，这也是他的本性决定的。因此，他雇用了几个流氓恶棍，想在你买走宝石的那天晚上进行袭击。这个计划流产了，可是侯爵对此并不感到突然和失望。谁也不会怀疑这是奈顿干的。正象所有的大人物一样（应该说侯爵也是个他那种类型的大人物），他们都有自已的弱点。他确实被格蕾小姐迷住了，当他发现她点喜欢德里克·凯特林的时候，就不由自主地，本能地企图嫁祸于德里克。这回，冯·阿尔丁先生，我可要对您说一桩非常有趣的事。格蕾小姐不是个神秘的人，但她确信，一天晚上在蒙特卡洛赌场的公园里感到您女儿还活着，正是在此之前不久，她刚同奈顿谈过一次话，她那时确实感到，死者竭力想告诉她，她甚至感觉到，死者要说的话是：奈顿就是凶手！当时，这种想法是那么强烈，深深地铭刻在她的脑海里，尽管她没有把这种想法告诉任何人，可是她坚信这种幻觉的真实性。她有意让奈顿更强烈地追求她，并给他造成一种假象，似乎罪行是德里克犯下的。”

    “太离奇了！”冯·阿尔丁说道。

    “非常离奇！这一类事情人们总是很难说清楚的。对，还有一件小事使我当时对我的线索产生了动摇。您的秘书有点瘸。可侯爵走起路来并不瘸。关于这一点我很长时间又没有弄清楚。有一天，雷诺斯·坦普林小姐偶然说起，她母亲那所医院里的外科医生对奈顿的瘸腿都感到很奇怪。这说明，他的腿瘸是假装出来的。我在伦敦找了一个外科专家，并得到了专门的材料，证明了我的想法是正确的。正如您记得的那样，我曾当着奈顿的面提起过这位医生的名字。照理说，奈顿当时应该谈起，正是这位大夫在战时给他治过伤。但是他对此不置一词，这个微不足道的情况更加深了我的怀疑。另外，格蕾小姐还给我看过一份剪报，上面提到，在奈顿住院期间，坦普林女士的医院里发生了一起宝石失盗事件。正当我从巴黎里茨饭店给格蕾小姐写信的时候，她才第一次意识到，我们是沿着同一个方向跟踪的。虽然付出了巨大的努力，但是我终于得到了我的证据，有力的证据，即艾达·马松只是在罪行发生的当天早晨到达饭店的，而不是前一天。”

    两个人沉默了好久。然后百万富翁伸出了手，同桌子对面波洛的手相握：“您可以想象，这对我意味着什么，波洛，”他低沉地说道，非常感动。“明天我给您转去一张支票，但是世界上没有任何一张支票能够表达我对您的谢意。您是一位伟人，波洛永远是一位伟人。”

    波洛站起身来。

    “我是赫库勒·波洛。”他谦虚地说。“但正象您所说的那样，我是我这一行的伟人，正象你是您那一行的伟人一样。我对自己能够为您效劳而感到高兴。”

    大厅里走进了庄严的帕波波鲁斯和他的女儿齐娅。

    “我相信您将离开尼扎了，波洛。”这位希腊人低声对这位侦探说，同时握住了他伸向自己的手。

    “公事催我回去，我亲爱的帕波波鲁斯。”

    “公事？”

    “对，公事。我们刚刚谈过公事……希望您的身体状况有好转，帕波波鲁斯。”

    “感谢上帝。它甚至有明显的好转，明天我们都能一起回巴黎了。”

    “太好了，非常难得。希望您没有把希腊总理完全搞垮。”

    “我？”

    “我听说，您卖给他一颗当今非常名贵的宝石，这可只有我们俩知道，而米蕾小姐，那个舞女正带着这颗宝石。”

    “可是……”帕波波鲁斯喃喃地说道。

    “一颗与‘火心宝石’相似的宝石。”

    “有很大的差别。”希腊人毫不在意地说道。

    “您是个非常在行的宝石专家，帕波波鲁斯！我特别感到难受，齐娅小姐，您会这么快就回巴黎。我曾希望，在我的公事办完之后，我们能够单独在一起多呆一会儿。”

    “恕我冒昧地问一下，您办的是什么公事？”帕波波鲁斯问道。

    “您一点也不冒昧。我们刚才顺利地把侯爵抓到了。”

    帕波波鲁斯幻想般地望着远方。

    “侯爵，侯爵？”他低声说道。“我似乎知道他。不，我真的有点记不清楚了。”

    “当然记不清了。”波洛说。“我说的是关于一件危险的宝石盗窃案。他似乎同您见过一次面？另外，他由于谋杀凯特林女士而被捕了。”

    “您说什么？真有意思！”

    他们很有礼貌地相互告别了，当波洛走远之后，帕波波鲁斯对女儿说道：

    “齐娅，这个人是个魔鬼。”

    “我喜欢他。”

    “我也喜欢他。”帕波波鲁斯承认道。“尽管如此，他还是个魔鬼。”