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Five
I
I t was so sudden and so unexpected that it took every one’s breath away. They remained
Then Dr. Armstrong jumped up and went over to him, kneeling beside him. When he
raised his head his eyes were bewildered.
He said in a low awe-struck whisper:
“My God! he’s dead.”
They didn’t take it in. Not at once.
Dead? Dead? That young Norse God in the prime of his health and strength. Struck down
No, they couldn’t take it in.
Then he picked up the glass from which Anthony Marston had been drinking.
General Macarthur said:
“Dead? D’you mean the fellow just choked and—and died?”
The physician said:
“You can call it choking if you like. He died of asphyxiation4 right enough.”
touched the finger with the tip of his tongue.
His expression altered.
General Macarthur said:
“Never knew a man could die like that—just of a choking fit!”
Emily Brent said in a clear voice:
“In the midst of life we are in death.”
Dr. Armstrong stood up. He said brusquely:
natural death.”
Vera said almost in a whisper:
“Was there—something—in the whisky?”
Armstrong nodded.
“Yes. Can’t say exactly. Everything points to one of the cyanides. No distinctive7 smell of
Prussic Acid, probably Potassium Cyanide. It acts pretty well instantaneously.”
The judge said sharply:
“It was in his glass?”
“Yes.”
The doctor strode to the table where the drinks were. He removed the stopper from the
“They’re both all right.”
Lombard said:
“You mean—he must have put the stuff in his glass himself?”
“Seems like it.”
Blore said:
“Suicide, eh? That’s a queer go.”
Vera said slowly:
“You’d never think that he would kill himself. He was so alive. He was—oh—enjoying
himself! When he came down the hill in his car this evening he looked—he looked—oh I can’t
explain!”
But they knew what she meant. Anthony Marston, in the height of his youth and manhood,
floor.
Dr. Armstrong said:
“Is there any possibility other than suicide?”
Slowly every one shook their heads. There could be no other explanation. The drinks
themselves were untampered with. They had all seen Anthony Marston go across and help
himself. It followed therefore that any cyanide in the drink must have been put there by
Anthony Marston himself.
And yet—why should Anthony Marston commit suicide?
Blore said thoughtfully:
“You know, doctor, it doesn’t seem right to me. I shouldn’t have said Mr. Marston was a
suicidal type of gentleman.”
Armstrong answered:
“I agree.”
第五章
1
突如其来的死亡让在座的每个人都措手不及，他们屏住呼吸，呆若木鸡地看着在地上
缩成一团的人。
随后，阿姆斯特朗医生猛地站起来，跑到马斯顿身边蹲下。当他抬起头来的时候，双
眼茫然，一脸迷惑不解。
他轻轻地低语着，惊恐至极。
“我的天！他死了。”
所有人都没听懂，一时不知他在念叨什么。
死了？死了？这位拥有大把美好青春的小伙子，一下子就倒地不省人事了。健壮的年
轻人不应该就这样死去，一杯威士忌苏打水就要了他的命。
不，不应该这样。
阿姆斯特朗医生盯着他的脸，凑上去闻了闻他发青扭曲的嘴唇，然后从地上捡起安东
尼·马斯顿丢落的酒杯。
麦克阿瑟将军问：
“死了？这个小伙子喝酒呛了一口，结果——就呛死了？”
阿姆斯特朗医生说：
“也可以说是呛死的。总之是窒息导致死亡。”
说完他闻了闻那只杯子，用一根手指蘸了一下杯中的残酒，小心翼翼地伸进嘴里，舌
尖轻轻地碰了碰手指。
他随即神色大变。
麦克阿瑟将军说：
“从来没听说过这种死法——就这么被呛死了！”
埃米莉·布伦特一字一顿地说：
“生即是死，无时无刻。”
阿姆斯特朗医生突然站起身，说：
“不，正常情况下，人是不会因为呛了一下就死的。马斯顿的死并不是我们通常说的自
然死亡。”
维拉的声音低得几乎像耳语，她喃喃地说：
“难道是……酒里放了什么东西？”
阿姆斯特朗医生点点头。
“有可能。看来像是氰化物之类的化学品，没有闻到氢氰酸的特殊气味，可能是氰化
钾。这种东西发作得特别快。”
法官厉声问道：
“他杯子里有氰化钾？”
“对，就在他杯子里。”
阿姆斯特朗走到放酒的桌子旁，打开威士忌酒瓶的瓶塞，闻了闻，又尝了尝。接着他
又尝了尝苏打水，摇摇头。
“都没问题。”
隆巴德问：
“你的意思……难道那是他自己放到酒里的？”
阿姆斯特朗点点头，但是一脸迷惑，似乎对这个推论并不满意。
“看起来好像是这样。”
布洛尔说：
“自杀，嗯？太奇怪了！”
维拉慢慢地说：
“谁能想到他会自杀呢？他这么年轻！一副……一副活不够的样子！今天傍晚他开车驶
下山坡的时候，那种感觉简直就像……就像……哎，我真没法形容！”
其实大家都知道她要说什么：安东尼·马斯顿春风得意，无论如何都不应该就这样死
了。
阿姆斯特朗医生问：
“有没有自杀以外的可能呢？”
大家都慢慢地摇着头，沉思着。还能有别的解释吗？谁都没动过那瓶酒，大家都看到
安东尼·马斯顿自己走过去，亲手往杯子里倒了酒。所以，显而易见，酒里的氰化物就是安
东尼·马斯顿自己下的。
但是，还有一个问题：安东尼·马斯顿为什么要自杀呢？
布洛尔百思不得其解，说：
“医生，要我说，这件事有点儿不对劲儿。我觉得马斯顿肯定不是那种想自杀的人。”
阿姆斯特朗回答：
“我同意。”
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