Chapter 25  DEFIANCE 

As Derek Kettering passed the car, Mirelle leant out. 

"Dereek - I must speak to you for a moment -" 

But, lifting his hat, Derek passed straight on without stopping. 

When he got back to his hotel, the concierge detached himself from his wooden pen and accosted him. 

"A gentleman is waiting to see you, Monsieur." 

"Who is it?" asked Derek. 

"He did not give me his name, Monsieur, but he said his business with you was important, and that he would wait." 

"Where is he?" 

"In the little salon, Monsieur. He preferred it to the lounge he said, as being more private." 

Derek nodded, and turned his steps in that direction. 

The small salon was empty except for the visitor, who rose and bowed with easy foreign grace as Derek entered. As it chanced, Derek had only seen the Comte de la Roche once, but found no difficulty in recognizing that aristocratic nobleman, and he frowned angrily. Of all the consummate impertinence! 

"The Comte de la Roche, is it not?" he said. "I am afraid you have wasted your time in coming here." 

"I hope not," said the Comte agreeably. 

His white teeth glittered. 

The Comte's charm of manner was usually wasted on his own sex. 

All men, without exception, disliked him heartily. Derek Kettering was already conscious of a distinct longing to kick the Count bodily out of the room. It was only the realization that scandal would be unfortunate just at present that restrained him. He marveled anew that Ruth could have cared, as she certainly had, for this fellow. A bounder, and worse than a bounder. He looked with distaste at the Count's exquisitely manicured hands. 

"I called," said the Comte, "on a little matter of business. It would be advisable I think, for you to listen to me." 

Again Derek felt strongly tempted to kick him out, but again he refrained. The hint of a threat was not lost upon him, but he interpreted it in his own way. There were various reasons why it would be better to hear what the Comte had to say. 

He sat down and drummed impatiently with his fingers on the table. 

"Well," he said sharply, "what is it?" 

It was not the Comte's way to come out into the open at once. 

"Allow me, Monsieur, to offer you my condolences on your recent bereavement." 

"If I have any impertinence from you," said Derek quietly, "you go out by that window." 

He nodded his head towards the window beside the Comte, and the latter moved uneasily. 

"I will send my friends to you, Monsieur, if that is what you desire," he said haughtily. 

Derek laughed. 

"A duel, eh? My dear Count, I don't take you seriously enough for that. But I should take a good deal of pleasure in kicking you down the Promenade des Anglais." 

The Comte was not at all anxious to take offence. He merely raised his eyebrows and murmured: 

"The English are barbarians." 

"Well," said Derek, "what is it you have to say to me?" 

"I will be frank," said the Comte, "I will come immediately to the point. That will suit us both, will it not?" 

Again he smiled in his agreeable fashion. 

"Go on," said Derek curtly. 

The Comte looked at the ceiling, joined the tips of his fingers together, and murmured softly: 

"You have come into a lot of money, Monsieur." 

"What the devil has that got to do with you?" 

The Comte drew himself up. 

"Monsieur, my name is tarnished! I am suspected - accused - of foul crime." 

"The accusation does not come from me," said Derek coldly, "as an interested party I have not expressed any opinion." 

"I am innocent," said the Comte, "I swear before heaven -" he raised his hand to heaven - "that I am innocent." 

"M. Carrege is, I believe, the Juge d'Instruction in charge of the case," hinted Derek politely. 

The Comte took no notice. 

"Not only am I unjustly suspected of a crime that I did not commit, but I am also in serious need of money." 

He coughed softly and suggestively. 

Derek rose to his feet. 

"I was waiting for that," he said softly, "you blackmailing brute! I will not give you a penny. My wife is dead, and no scandal that you can make can touch her now. She wrote you foolish letters, I dare say. If I were to buy them from you for a round sum at this minute, I am pretty certain that you would manage to keep one or two back; and I will tell you this, M. de la Roche, blackmailing is an ugly word both in England and in France. That is my answer to you. Good afternoon." 

"One moment -" the Comte stretched out a hand as Derek was turning to leave the room. "You are mistaken, Monsieur. You are completely mistaken. I am, I hope, a 'gentleman.'" 

Derek laughed. 

"Any letters that a lady might write to me I should hold sacred." He flung back his head with a beautiful air of nobility. "The proposition that I was putting before you was of quite a different nature. I am, as I said, extremely short of money, and my conscience might impel me to go to the police with certain information." 

Derek came slowly back into the room. 

"What do you mean?" 

The Comte's agreeable smile flashed forth once more. 

"Surely it is not necessary to go into details," he purred. "Seek whom the crime benefits, they say, don't they? As I said just now, you have come into a lot of money lately." 

Derek laughed. 

"If that is all -" he said contemptuously. 

But the Comte was shaking his head. "But it is not all, my dear sir. I should not come to you unless I had much more precise and detailed information than that. It is not agreeable, Monsieur, to be arrested and tried for murder." 

Derek came close up to him. His face expressed such furious anger that involuntarily the Comte drew back a pace or two. 

"Are you threatening me?" the young man demanded angrily. 

"You shall hear nothing more of the matter," the Comte assured him. 

"Of all the colossal bluffs that I have ever struck -" 

The Comte raised a white hand. 

"You are wrong. It is not a bluff. To convince you I will tell you this. My information was obtained from a certain lady. It is she who holds the irrefutable proof that you committed the murder." 

"She? Who?" 

"Mademoiselle Mirelle." 

Derek drew back as though struck. 

"Mirelle," he muttered. 

The Comte was quick to press what he took to be his advantage. 

"A bagatelle of one hundred thousand francs," he said. "I ask no more." 

"Eh?" said Derek absently. 

"I was saying, Monsieur, that a bagatelle of one hundred thousand francs would satisfy my - conscience." 

Derek seemed to recollect himself. He looked earnestly at the Comte. 

"You would like my answer now?" 

"If you please, Monsieur." 

"Then here it is. You can go to the devil. See?" 

Leaving the Comte too astonished to speak, Derek turned on his heel and swung out of the room. 

Once out of the hotel he hailed a taxi and drove to Mirelle's hotel. On inquiring, he learned that the dancer had just come in. Derek gave the concierge his card. 

"Take this up to Mademoiselle and ask if she will see me." 

A very brief interval elapsed, and then Derek was bidden to follow a chasseur. 

A wave of exotic perfume assailed Derek's nostrils as he stepped over the threshold of the dancer's apartments. The room was filled with carnations, orchids, and mimosa. Mirelle was standing by the window in a peignoir of foamy lace. 

She came towards him, her hands outstretched. 

"Derek - you have come to me. I knew you would." 

He put aside the clinging arms and looked down on her sternly. 

"Why did you send the Comte de la Roche to me?" 

She looked at him in astonishment, which he took to be genuine. 

"I? Send the Comte de la Roche to you? But for what?" 

"Apparently - for blackmail," said Derek grimly. 

Again she stared. Then suddenly she smiled and nodded her head. 

"Of course. It was to be expected. It is what he would do, ce type là. I might have known it. No, indeed, Dereek, I did not send him." 

He looked at her piercingly, as though seeking to read her mind. 

"I will tell you," said Mirelle. "I am ashamed, but I will tell you. The other day you comprehend, I was mad with rage, quite mad -" she made an eloquent gesture. "My temperament, it is not a patient one. I want to be revenged on you, and so I go to the Comte de la Roche, and I tell him to go to the police and say so and so, and so and so. But have no fear, Dereek. Not completely did I lose my head; the proof rests with me alone. The police can do nothing without my word, you understand? And now - now?" 

She nestled up close to him, looking up at him with melting eyes. 

He thrust her roughly away from him. She stood there, her breast heaving, her eyes narrowing to a catlike slit. 

"Be careful, Dereek, be very careful. You have come back to me, have you not?" 

"I shall never come back to you," said Derek steadily. 

"Ah!" 

More than ever the dancer looked like a cat. Her eyelids flickered. 

"So there is another woman? The one with whom you lunched that day. Eh, am I right?" 

"I intend to ask that lady to marry me. You might as well know." 

"That prim Englishwoman! Do you think that I will support that for one moment? Ah, no." Her beautiful lithe body quivered. 

"Listen, Dereek, do you remember that conversation we had in London? You said the only thing that could save you was the death of your wife. You regretted that she was so healthy. Then the idea of an accident came to your brain. And more than an accident." 

"I suppose," said Derek contemptuously, "that it was this conversation that you repeated to the Comte de la Roche." 

Mirelle laughed. 

"Am I a fool? Could the police do anything with a vague story like that? See - I will give you a last chance. You shall give up this Englishwoman. You shall return to me. And then, cheri, never, never will I breathe -" 

"Breathe what?" 

She laughed softly. "You thought no one saw you -" 

"What do you mean?" 

"As I say, you thought no one saw you - but I saw you, Dereek, mon ami; I saw you coming out of the compartment of Madame your wife just before the train got into Lyons that night. And I know more than that. I know that when you came out of her compartment she was dead." 

He stared at her. Then, like a man in a dream he turned very slowly and went out of the room, swaying slightly as he walked. 

第二十五章 合理的建议

    “德里克，我有事要同你谈谈。”

    可是德里克却从米蕾的汽车旁走过，没有停步。象往常一样，他只是脱帽表示致意。

    在旅馆门口，看门人告诉他说，有一位先生等着见他。

    “是谁？”德里克问道。

    “他没有通报姓名，先生。但是他说，有要事同您谈。”

    “他在哪？”

    “在小客厅，先生。他说在那里谈话可以不受干扰，比大客厅方便些。”

    德里克点点头，接着就进了小客厅，里面只有一位来访者，此人以早就酝酿好了的亲切态度迎了上去。虽然德里克只见过罗歇伯爵一面，但是他立即就认出了这位贵族阶层的成员。他皱起眉头，摸了一下嘴巴。

    这个人是多么厚颜无耻，竟然还来拜访他。

    “您是罗歇伯爵，是吧？您到这里来，恐怕是要白辛苦一趟了。”

    “我不相信。”伯爵微笑着说道，露出一排雪白的牙齿。

    但是伯爵的这种风度和亲热劲在同性伙伴面前却失去了应有的效力。男人们都受不了他这一套。德里克早就想一脚把他踢出门外。只是考虑到，当前再惹起一场风波并不好，所以才克制住了自己。他在想，露丝为什么会喜欢上这样一个人，喜欢这样一个诈骗能手！他对来访者修剪得十分讲究的手指甲睨视一眼，感到特别恶心。

    “我想同您谈一谈。”伯爵开口了，“谈一笔小小的生意。我相信，只要是听我的话，对您是有益处的。”

    德里克耐心地听着，手指敲打着桌面。“请吧，”他严肃地说，“是一笔什么生意呢？”

    直截了当的谈话，这不是伯爵的风格。

    “首先请允许我，先生，对您近来遭到的巨大损失表示同情。”

    “你要是再无礼，”德里克低声说道，“我就把你扔出去。”

    伯爵有一幅厚脸皮，他只是嘟哝着说道：

    “这些英国佬都是些土匪。”

    “快说，你到底要同我谈什么？”

    “我的话将非常坦率，”伯爵保证道，“我马上就谈正题。”他停了片刻接着说：

    “您一夜之间成了百万富翁，先生。”

    “见鬼，你这是什么意思？”

    伯爵站起身来。“我的徽号受到了玷污。有人给我加上了可怕的罪名。”

    “罪名可不是我给你加上的！”德里克冷冷地回答说。“因为我也同此案有关，所以我什么意见都没有表示过。”

    “我没有罪！”伯爵大叫着。“我向苍天起誓，我是无罪的。”

    “据我所知，这个案子是卡雷热先生主办的，就是那位侦察官。”德里克毫无表情地说道。

    伯爵没有去的德里克的话。“我被不公正地加了罪名，另外我现在手头很拮据。”

    德里克站起身来。

    “我早就等着你这一着了。”他大声说道。“你这个卑鄙的勒索者，我不会给你一文钱！我妻子已经死了，诬陷之词她已经听不到了。如果你想把死者生前给你写的信卖给我，那么我只能对你说：勒索是不道德的！不管是在英国或是法国，都是不道德的！这就是我的话，再见。”

    德里克已经走到门口了。可是伯爵象是要发誓似的，举起手拦住了他。“您误解了，我的先生，我是一位绅士。”

    德里克大笑起来。

    “一个女人给我写的信，那是神圣的东西。我要同您谈的生意完全是另外一码事。

正象我同您说的那样，我的经济状况不佳，而我的责任感又有可以把我带到警察局，去告诉他们某些情报。”

    德里克向他走近一步。

    “您说这话是什么意思？”

    伯爵意味深长地微笑起来。

    “难道真需要我把细节都说出来？我察觉到，您已经陷入了困境。”

    “如果这就是你想对我说的一切……”

    可是伯爵却摇着头说道：“不，我的先生，这还不是全部。我想，如果因为谋杀而被捕并受到审判，这对您来说是件不太愉快的事。”

    德里克已经靠近了伯爵。他的脸上充满了愤怒，使对方吓得不由自主地退了一步。

德里克忍住怒气压低嗓门说道：

    “我见过多少无耻的诈骗行为，但是，我还从未领教过象你这种无耻的诈骗。”

    “您弄错了。”伯爵表示惋惜地说道。“这不是诈骗，我要是对您说了，您可能就会相信我的情报来源于某一女士。这位女士可以无情地证明，谋杀犯就是您。”

    “这位女士是谁？”

    “米蕾小姐。”

    德里克向后退了一步，仿佛是挨了当头一棒。

    “米蕾？”他结结巴巴地说道。

    伯爵急于利用自己有利局面。

    “做为小小的代价，十万法郎。”他说。“这就是我所要求的一切。”

    “你说什么？”德里克魂不附体地问道。

    “我再重复一遍，做为小小的代价，十万法郎，这样可以对得起我的良心。”

    德里克全身的肌肉都绷紧了。

    “你是想让我立即回答你？”

    “我请您立即回答。”

    “见鬼去吧！这就是我的回答。”

    屋子里只剩下伯爵一个人了。他惊骇地摇摇头。真的，他对当今世界再也无法理解了。

    德里克急步走下楼梯，叫了一辆出租汽车。几分钟后，他的汽车已停在米蕾下榻的旅馆门前。从看门人那里知道，舞女在几分钟前刚刚回家，他立即递出了自己的名片。

    过了一会儿走出一个仆人：“小姐请您上楼。”

    一走进舞女的客厅，就嗅到一股刺鼻的香水味。房间里摆满了丁香、兰花和含羞草。

米蕾穿着一件用香味边编成的化装外衣，站在窗前。她伸出手来迎接德里克。“你来了，德里克，我知道，你会来的。”

    他挣脱开她的手，凝视着她。

    “为什么把罗歇伯爵打发到我那里去？”

    “我打发伯爵到你那里？为什么？”

    “明目张胆的勒索！”

    她出神地看了他半天。然后突然放声大笑起来，还点了点头。

    “当然，这种人是会干出这种事来的！不，德里克，我没有让他去，真的没有。”

    他打算猜测一下，这个女人的白净额头里到底在想什么。

    “我把一切供认了吧。”米蕾说，“虽然我感到羞愧。我当时是气疯了！我想报复你一下。所以我才到了伯爵那里，让他到警察局去告你。但是，你别怕，我还没有傻到那种程度。证据我可以撤回。没有我的证据警察不会把你怎样。”

    她的身子靠近德里克，眼神里充满了热情和殷勤。

    他把米蕾粗暴地拉到身前。她的胸脯一起一伏，眼睛象猫似的眯成了一条线。

    “你要小心，要小心！你不是已经回到我这里来了吗？……或是你不愿意回来？”

    “我永远不会再回到你这里来。”德里克坚定地答道。

    “啊！”

    她现在活象一头凶猛的小野兽。她的眼睛痉挛地闪着光。

    “你现在另有新欢，你同她一道吃过饭！我说的对吗？”

    “对。我想向这位女士求婚，我要娶她作我的妻子。我没有理由在你面前隐瞒这一点。”

    “我决不允许你这样做！你永远也别想得逞！”她那美丽而柔软的身子在颤抖着。

“请你回想一下咱俩在伦敦的谈话。你当时说，唯一能救你的办法是你老婆的死！你还抱怨说，你老婆身体非常健康。以后你就产生了一个想法——不幸事故。”

    “就凭这一点。”德里克鄙视地说道，“就凭这一点你去控告我？”

    米蕾大笑起来。

    “你认为我就这么傻？单凭这一段小故事警察局是无从下手的。听着，德里克，我给你最后一个机会。你快把那个英国女人忘掉。只要你回到我这里来，那么他们就永远别想从我的嘴巴里套出一个字，关于……”

    “关于什么？”

    她嘿嘿一笑。“你认为，那时谁也没有发现你？”

    “你说的是什么？”

    “我看到你了，德里克。当你从你老婆的包厢里出来的时候，也就是就，当火车刚刚开进里昂站的时候。我还知道更多的东西。我还知道，在你离开你老婆的时候，她已经死了。”

    他呆住了。然后他转身离开了房间，慢慢地……摇摇晃晃……象一个梦游者。