Chapter 32 KATHERINE AND POIROT COMPARE NOTES 

"You have changed, Mademoiselle," said Poirot suddenly. He and Katherine were seated opposite each other at a small table at the Savoy. 

"Yes, you have changed," he continued. 

"In what way?" 

"Mademoiselle, these nuances are difficult to express." 

"I am older." 

"Yes, you are older. And by that I do not mean that the wrinkles and the crows' feet are coming. When I first saw you, Mademoiselle, you were a looker-on at life. You had the quiet, amused look of one who sits back in the stalls and watches the play." 

"And now?" 

"Now, you no longer watch. It is an absurd thing, perhaps, that I say here, but you have the wary look of a fighter who is playing a difficult game." 

"My old lady is difficult sometimes," said Katherine, with a smile, 

"but I can assure you that I don't engage in deadly contests with her. You must go down and see her some day, Monsieur Poirot. I think you are one of the people who would appreciate her pluck and her spirit." 

There was a silence while the waiter deftly served them with chicken en casserole. When he had departed, Poirot said: 

"You have heard me speak of my friend Hastings? - he who said that I was a human oyster. Eh bien, Mademoiselle, I have met my match in you. You, far more than I, play a lone hand." 

"Nonsense," said Katherine lightly. 

"Never does Hercule Poirot talk nonsense. It is as I say." 

Again there was a silence. Poirot broke it by inquiring: 

"Have you seen any of our Riviera friends since you have been back, Mademoiselle?" 

"I have seen something of Major Knighton." 

"A-ha! Is that so?" 

Something in Poirot's twinkling eyes made Katherine lower hers. 

"So Mr Van Aldin remains in London?" 

"Yes." 

"I must try to see him tomorrow or the next day." 

"You have news for him?" 

"What makes you think that?" 

"I - wondered, that is all." 

Poirot looked across at her with twinkling eyes. 

"And now, Mademoiselle, there is much that you wish to ask me, I can see that. And why not? Is not the affair of the Blue Train our own 'Roman Policier'?" 

"Yes, there are things I should like to ask you." 

"Eh bien?" 

Katherine looked up with a sudden air of resolution. 

"What were you doing in Paris, Monsieur Poirot?" 

Poirot smiled slightly. 

"I made a call at the Russian Embassy." 

"Oh." 

"I see that that tells you nothing. But I will not be a human oyster. No, I will lay my cards on the table, which is assuredly a thing that oysters do not do. You suspect, do you not, that I am not satisfied with the case against Derek Kettering?" 

"That is what I have been wondering. I thought, in Nice, that you had finished with the case." 

"You do not say all that you mean, Mademoiselle. But I admit everything. It was I - my researches - which placed Derek Kettering where he is now. But for me the Examining Magistrate would still be vainly trying to fasten the crime on the Comte de la Roche. Eh bien, Mademoiselle, what I have done I do not regret. I have only one duty - to discover the truth, and that way led straight to Mr Kettering. But did it end there? The police say yes, but I, Hercule Poirot, am not satisfied." 

He broke off suddenly. "Tell me, Mademoiselle, have you heard from Mademoiselle Lenox lately?" 

"One very short, scrappy letter. She is, I think, annoyed with me for coming back to England." 

Poirot nodded. 

"I had an interview with her the night that Monsieur Kettering was arrested. It was an interesting interview in more ways than one." 

Again he fell silent, and Katherine did not interrupt his train of thought. 

"Mademoiselle," he said at last, "I am now on delicate ground, yet I will say this to you. There is, I think, someone who loves Monsieur Kettering - correct me if I am wrong - and for her sake - well - for her sake I hope that I am right and the police are wrong. You know who that someone is?" 

There was a pause, then Katherine said: "Yes - I think I know." 

Poirot leant across the table towards her. 

"I am not satisfied, Mademoiselle; no, I am not satisfied. The facts, the main facts, led straight to Monsieur Kettering. But there is one thing that has been left out of account." 

"And what is that?" 

"The disfigured face of the victim. I have asked myself, Mademoiselle, a hundred times, 'Was Derek Kettering the kind of man who would deal that smashing blow after having committed murder?' What end would it serve? What purpose would it accomplish? Was it a likely action for one of Monsieur Kettering's temperament? And, Mademoiselle, the answer to these questions is profoundly unsatisfactory. Again and again I go back to that one point - 'why?' And the only things I have to help me to a solution of the problem are these." 

He whipped out his pocket-book and extracted something from it which he held between his finger and thumb. 

"Do you remember, Mademoiselle? You saw me take these hairs from the rug in the railway carriage." 

Katherine leant forward, scrutinizing the hairs keenly. 

Poirot nodded his head slowly several times. 

"They suggest nothing to you, I see that, Mademoiselle. And yet - I think somehow that you see a good deal." 

"I have had ideas," said Katherine slowly, "curious ideas. That is why I ask you what you were doing in Paris, Monsieur Poirot." 

"When I wrote to you -" 

"From the Ritz?" 

A curious smile came over Poirot's face. 

"Yes, as you say, from the Ritz. I am a luxurious person sometimes 

-when a millionaire pays." 

"The Russian Embassy," said Katherine, frowning. "No, I don't see where that comes in." 

"It does not come in directly, Mademoiselle. I went there to get certain information. I saw a particular personage and I threatened him - yes, Mademoiselle, I, Hercule Poirot, threatened him." 

"With the police?" 

"No," said Poirot drily, "with the Press - a much more deadly weapon." 

He looked at Katherine and she smiled at him, just shaking her head. 

"Are you not just turning back into an oyster again, Monsieur Poirot?" 

"No, no! I do not wish to make mysteries. See, I will tell you everything. I suspect this man of being the active party in the sale of the jewels of Monsieur Van Aldin. I tax him with it, and in the end I get the whole story out of him. I learn where the jewels were handed over, and I learn, too, of the man who paced up and down outside in the street - a man with a venerable head of white hair, but who walked with the light, springy step of a young man - and I give that man a name in my own mind - the name of 'Monsieur le Marquis.'" 

"And now you have come to London to see Mr Van Aldin?" 

"Not entirely for that reason. I had other work to do. Since I have been in London I have seen two more people - a theatrical agent and a Harley Street doctor. From each of them I have got certain information. Put these things together, Mademoiselle, and see if you can make of them the same as I do." 

"I?" 

"Yes, you. I will tell you one thing, Mademoiselle. There has been a doubt all along in my mind as to whether the robbery and the murder were done by the same person. For a long time I was not sure -" 

"And now?" 

"And now I know." 

There was a silence. Then Katherine lifted her head. Her eyes were shining. 

"I am not clever like you, Monsieur Poirot. Half the things that you have been telling me don't seem to me to point anywhere at all. The ideas that came to me came from such an entirely different angle -" 

"Ah, but that is always so," said Poirot quietly. "A mirror shows the truth, but everyone stands in a different place for looking into the mirror." 

"My ideas may be absurd - they may be entirely different from yours, but -" 

"Yes?" 

"Tell me, does this help you at all?" 

He took a newspaper cutting from her outstretched hand. He read it and, looking up, he nodded gravely. 

"As I told you, Mademoiselle, one stands at a different angle for looking into the mirror, but it is the same mirror and the same things are reflected there." 

Katherine got up. "I must rush," she said. "I have only just time to catch my train, Monsieur Poirot -" 

"Yes, Mademoiselle." 

"It - it mustn't be much longer, you understand. I - I can't go on much longer." 

There was a break in her voice. 

He patted her hand reassuringly. 

"Courage, Mademoiselle, you must not fail now; the end is very near." 

第三十二章 跟踪

    “您变了。”波洛突然说。他和卡泰丽娜坐在萨沃饭店面对面地坐在一张小桌子旁。

    “您指的是哪方面？”

    “这种细微的差别很难说明。”

    “我变老了。”

    “您是变老了。我的意思不是说，您的脸上一下子出现了皱纹，我第一次见到您的时候，您象是一位冷静地观察生活的观众，给人一种泰然自若的印象，似乎您在舒坦地坐着观赏一出喜剧。”

    “那么现在呢？”

    “现在您不是旁观者了。我的比喻可能有点可笑：您现在给人的印象是，一个拳击家面临着一场胜负未卜的格斗。”

    “我那位老小姐有时候有点孤僻，”卡泰丽娜微笑着说道，“但是我可请您放心：我可不想与她拳击。有时间您倒是可以去拜访她一下。我相信，这位坚强的老人会使您喜欢的。”

    服务员很敏捷地送来一只带平底锅装着的烤鸡。当只剩下他们两个人的时候，波洛打听道：

    “自从您回到英国之后，您见过我们在利维埃拉的朋友了吗？”

    “我见过奈顿少校。”

    “噢，噢，真的？”

    卡泰丽娜看着波洛睨目而视的双眼，而自己却不由自主地垂下了眼帘。

    “过几天我要拜访一下冯·阿尔丁先生。”

    “您有什么新情况告诉他？”

    “为什么您认为会这样？”

    “哎呀，我只是问问而已。”

    波洛从桌子对面望着她，不断地眨着眼睛。

    “我看，您象有话要问我，为什么又不问了？难道‘蓝色特快’上的秘密不是我们俩合作的一部小说吗？”

    “我的确要问您几个问题。”

    “那您就鼓起勇气问吧！”

    “您在巴黎干了些什么事？波洛先生？”

    波洛略微一笑。

    “我拜会了俄国的公使。”

    “是吗？”

    “这对您说来难道不是过于离奇了吗？您可能认为，现在对德里克·凯特林的起诉还不太令人满意？当然，是我把德里克送进了监狱。没有我的参与，侦察官先生可能还在忙于进行罗歇伯爵罪行的调查。但是，我对我所作的一切并不后悔。搞清事实真象是我的责任，而线索直接与凯特林先生有关。难道，这条线索以他的这一结局而告终了？尽管警察局方面持此看法，而我，赫库勒·波洛却不满意。”

    他突然转了话题。“告诉我，您最近听到有关雷诺斯的消息吗？”

    “她给我写过几封信。对我回国一事似乎有点生气，感到烦恼。”

    波洛点点头。

    “在凯特林先生被捕的那天晚上，我同她谈过一次话，一次特别有意思的话。”

    两个人又都沉默下来，卡泰丽娜并不想去打断他的思路。

    “小姐，”他最后说道，“我的脚正踏在一只摇晃着的船上，但我要告诉您的一点是：有人爱凯特林先生，正是为这了个人，我希望我是对的，而警察方面是错的。您知道这个人是谁吗？”

    停了一会儿，卡泰丽娜低声说道：“我相信我是知道的。”

    波洛摇了摇头。“我不满意，不，我很满意。所有的事实都证明凯特林是凶犯。可是，却有一个情况被忽视了。”

    “您指的是什么？”

    “那就是死者被打变形的脸。我上百次地问过自己：德里克·凯特林是那种人吗？把自己的妻子害死之后再给她这血腥的一击？究竟要达到什么目的？对他为什么要这样做我百思不得其解。而为了解决这个问题，我只得到了一种帮助。”

    他掏出一个信封，用拇指和食指从里面夹出一点东西。

    “还记得吗？我在包厢里的枕头旁边拾到这一缕头发时您是在场的。”

    卡泰丽娜很有兴趣地弯下腰去看那一缕头发。

    波洛不住地直点头。“您对这些头发说不出所以然，这我看得出。可是，我似乎觉得，您知悉一点内情。”

    “人们常有一些想法，”卡泰丽娜慢悠悠地说。“很古怪的想法！因此我问您，在巴黎您干什么了。”

    “您指的是我写给您的信？”

    “在里茨饭店写的。”

    波洛的脸上露出独具风格的一笑。“如果可以到百万富翁那里报账，人们是会生活得很美好的。”

    “您刚才说起了俄国公使。”卡泰丽娜皱起眉头说道。“这与此案又有什么关系？我一点都不懂。”

    “没有什么直接的瓜葛。我到他那里去了解一个情况。我还同另一个人物谈过话，并对他进行了威胁，对，就是我，赫库勒·波洛，威胁了他。”

    “是同警察谈了话？”

    “不是，”波洛毫无表情地说道。“同报界，同这个致命的武器谈过话。我怀疑一个人，这个人积极参与了卖给冯·阿尔丁宝石的交易。我向他从头到尾地说了一遍，把事情的真相全盘端出。我在他那儿了解到，宝石是在哪里交货的。我还了解了这个人的情况，交货前后此人一直在附近徘徊，他一头白发，走起路来有点瘸，模样却很年轻。

我把此人称为‘侯爵’先生。”

    “那么现在您就到伦敦来了，以便同冯·阿尔丁谈谈这件事。”

    “不只是为了这个目的。我在这里还有其它的事要做。我还同两个人谈过话，一位是剧院的经理，一位是有名的医生。从他们那里我都得到了一些绪料。请您把前前后后的事情理一理，看看是否能从中找出开这把锁的钥匙。”

    “我恐怕不行。”

    “怎么不行！从一开始我就怀疑，偷窃和谋杀是不是出于一个人之手。很长一段时间里我对此不敢肯定。”

    “那么现在呢？”

    “现在我明白了。”

    又是一阵沉默。然后卡泰丽娜抬起了头。她的双眼发出光亮。

    “我不象您那样目光敏锐、善于思考，波洛先生。您同我谈的那些情况只能使我越来越糊涂，而且我觉得前后没有什么联系。我对这个案子的看法，完全是另一种角度。”

    “事情都是这样，镜子里的映象并不变化。”

    “我的想法可能很荒唐……肯定同您的想法不一样，但是……”

    “什么？”

    “您怎么看待这个，波洛先生？”

    她从手提包里取出一张剪报，递给了他，他看了一遍，点了下头。“这就是我同您说的。每个人从不同角度向镜子里看，可是镜子是同一面镜子，映象也是同一种映象。”

    卡泰丽娜站了起来。

    “我得走了，”她说。“我还得赶得上那趟火车。波洛先生……”

    “怎么？”

    “事情，事情不允许再耽搁下去了。再耽搁我就受不了啦。”她的声音听起来很难受。

    他安慰地握着她的手。“要勇敢些！您现在不能再软弱下去了，胜利就有眼前。”