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III
Fred Narracott sat by the engine thinking to himself that this was a queer lot. Not at all his idea
of what Mr. Owen’s guests were likely to be. He’d expected something altogether more classy.
Togged up women and gentlemen in yachting costume and all very rich and important looking.
Not at all like Mr. Elmer Robson’s parties. A faint grin came to Fred Narracott’s lips as he
remembered the millionaire’s guests. That had been a party if you like—and the drink they’d
got through!
This Mr. Owen must be a very different sort of gentleman. Funny, it was, thought Fred,
that he’d never yet set eyes on Owen—or his Missus either. Never been down here yet he
hadn’t. Everything ordered and paid for by that Mr. Morris. Instructions always very clear and
payment prompt, but it was odd, all the same. The papers said there was some mystery about
Owen. Mr. Narracott agreed with them.
Perhaps after all, it was Miss Gabrielle Turl who had bought the island. But that theory
departed from him as he surveyed his passengers. Not this lot—none of them looked likely to
have anything to do with a film star.
He summed them up dispassionately.
One old maid—the sour kind—he knew them well enough. She was a tartar he could bet.
Old military gentleman — real Army look about him. Nice- looking young lady — but the
gentleman, the lean hungry-looking gentleman with the quick eyes, he was a queer one, he was.
Just possible he might have something to do with the pictures.
No, there was only one satisfactory passenger in the boat. The last gentleman, the one who
had arrived in the car (and what a car! A car such as had never been seen in Sticklehaven
before. Must have cost hundreds and hundreds, a car like that). He was the right kind. Born to
money, he was. If the party had been all like him … he’d understand it….
Queer business when you came to think of it—the whole thing was queer—very queer….
3
弗雷德·纳拉科特坐在发动机旁，心想这帮人可真奇怪，也不知道欧文先生请来的客人
究竟是些什么人。他原本以为来访的客人都是上流人士，像是那些珠光宝气、气派非凡的
先生和太太，都身着乘游艇出海时穿的高档服装。
和罗布森先生的派对根本没法比。弗雷德·纳拉科特回想起那些和埃尔默·罗布森先生来
往的人，不由得微微一笑。当时的派对多高档，喝的是顶级窖藏！
这位欧文先生真是个怪人。弗雷德想想也觉得够滑稽的。他根本没见过这位先生，更
别说他太太了。他从来就没出现过，所有的安排都是莫里斯先生张罗的，钱也由他来付。
应该做些什么、怎么做，总是安排得井井有条，给钱也很及时。尽管如此，欧文先生一定
是个另类的人，否则报纸上怎么会提到那么多关于他的传闻？弗雷德琢磨着，这些传闻确
实也有道理。
说实话，他觉得这座岛或许就是加布里埃尔·特尔小姐买下的产业。但是望着眼前的客
人，又觉得这种想法没道理。这帮人没一个攀得上电影明星。
他不动声色地打量着这群人。
一位是老小姐，脾气不小。他一眼就能看出她的本性。谁敢跟他打赌？她若不是怪脾
气，那才奇怪。一位是老军人，气质像是个地道的军人。那个年轻姑娘长得挺漂亮，就是
平凡了点儿，没有好莱坞女人那种魅力。那个装腔作势的男人一看就不是真正的绅士。弗
雷德·纳拉科特想，他应该是做生意赔本了。另外，那个精瘦的男人，面相凶狠，眼睛滴溜
溜地转个不停。这种人挺少见的，倒很有可能是个拍电影的。
对了，这船人里面到底还是有一位像样的绅士，就是开着跑车最后才到的那位——真
是辆好车！斯蒂克尔黑文以前从没有见过这种车，少说也值好几万——只有他像钱堆里长
大的富家子弟。如果举办高端派对，也只有他够资格参加。
有时越想把一件事搞清楚，反而越糊涂。再说，这本来就是件糊涂事，一塌糊涂……
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