沉睡的谋杀案34
时间：2026-02-04 01:33:55
（单词翻译:单击）
Twenty-one
J. J. AFFLICK
I
J. J. Afflick, Daffodil Coaches, Devon & Dorset Tours, etc. had two numbers
listed in the telephone book. An office address in Exeter and a private ad-
dress on the outskirts of that town.
An appointment was made for the following day.
Just as Giles and Gwenda were leaving in the car, Mrs. Cocker ran out
and gesticulated. Giles put on the brake and stopped.
“It’s Dr. Kennedy on the telephone, sir.”
Giles got out and ran back. He picked up the receiver.
“Giles Reed here.”
“Morning. I’ve just received rather an odd letter. From a woman called
Lily Kimble. I’ve been racking my brains to remember who she is.
Thought of a patient first—that put me off the scent. But I rather fancy she
must be a girl who was in service once at your house. House-parlourmaid
at the time we know of. I’m almost sure her name was Lily, though I don’t
recollect her last name.”
“There was a Lily. Gwenda remembers her. She tied a bow on the cat.”
“Gwennie must have a very remarkable memory.”
“Oh, she has.”
“Well, I’d like to have a word with you about this letter—not over the
phone. Will you be in if I come over?”
“We’re just on our way to Exeter. We could drop in on you, if you prefer,
sir. It’s all on our way.”
“Good. That’ll do splendidly.”
“I don’t like to talk too much about all this over the phone,” explained
the doctor when they arrived. “I always have an idea the local exchanges
listen in. Here’s the woman’s letter.”
He spread the letter on the table. It was written on cheap lined paper in
an uneducated hand.
Dear sir (Lily Kimble had written)
I’d be grateful if you could give me advise about the en-
closed wot i cut out of paper. I been thinking and i talked it
over with mr. Kimble, but i don’t know wots best to do
about it. Do you think as it means money or a reward be-
cos i could do with the money im sure but woodnt want the
police or anything like that, i often hav been thinking
about that nite wen mrs. Halliday went away and i don’t
think sir she ever did becos the clothes was wrong. i thort
at first the master done it but now im not so sure becos of
the car i saw out of the window. A posh car it was and i
seen it before but i woodnt like to do anything without ask-
ing you first if it was all rite and not police becos i never
hav been mixed up with police and mr. Kimble woodnt like
it. I could come and see you sir if i may next thursday as its
market day and mr. Kimble will be out. id be very grateful
if you could.
yours respectfully,
Lily Kimble.
“It was addressed to my old house in Dillmouth,” said Kennedy, “and
forwarded on to me here. The cutting is your advertisement.”
“It’s wonderful,” said Gwenda. “This Lily—you see—she doesn’t think it
was my father who did it!”
She spoke with jubilation. Dr. Kennedy looked at her with tired, kindly
eyes.
“Good for you, Gwennie,” he said gently. “I hope you’re right. Now this
is what I think we’d better do. I’ll answer her letter and tell her to come
here on Thursday. The train connection is quite good. By changing at Dill-
mouth Junction she can get here shortly after 4.30. If you two will come
over that afternoon, we can tackle her all together.”
“Splendid,” said Giles. He glanced at his watch. “Come on, Gwenda, we
must hurry. We’ve got an appointment,” he explained. “With Mr. Afflick of
the Daffodil Coaches, and, so he told us, he’s a busy man.”
“Afflick?” Kennedy frowned. “Of course! Devon Tours in Daffodil
Coaches, horrible great butter-coloured brutes. But the name seemed fa-
miliar in some other way.”
“Helen,” said Gwenda.
“My goodness—not that chap?”
“Yes.”
“But he was a miserable little rat. So he’s come up in the world?”
“Will you tell me something, sir?” said Giles. “You broke up some funny
business between him and Helen. Was that simply because of his—well,
social position?”
Dr. Kennedy gave him a dry glance.
“I’m old-fashioned, young man. In the modern gospel, one man is as
good as another. That holds morally, no doubt. But I’m a believer in the
fact that there is a state of life into which you are born—and I believe
you’re happiest staying in it. Besides,” he added, “I thought the fellow was
a wrong ’un. As he proved to be.”
“What did he do exactly?”
“That I can’t remember now. It was a case, as far as I can recall, of his
trying to cash in on some information obtained through his employment
with Fane. Some confidential matter relating to one of their clients.”
“Was he—sore about his dismissal?”
Kennedy gave him a sharp glance and said briefly: “Yes.”
“And there wasn’t any other reason at all for your disliking his friend-
ship with your sister? You didn’t think he was—well—odd in any way.”
“Since you have brought the matter up, I will answer you frankly. It
seemed to me, especially after his dismissal from his employment, that
Jackie Afflick displayed certain signs of an unbalanced temperament. In-
cipient persecution mania, in fact. But that does not seem to have been
borne out by his subsequent rise in life.”
“Who dismissed him? Walter Fane?”
“I have no idea if Walter Fane was concerned. He was dismissed by the
firm.”
“And he complained that he had been victimized?”
Kennedy nodded.
“I see … Well, we must drive like the wind. Till Thursday, sir.”
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