马龙探案卷四 之 正确的凶案 三
一月2日星期四11点30分，当约翰?J?马龙到达办公室时，他脸色苍白，有点颤抖，但除此之外并无大碍。
It was thirty minutes past eleven on Thursday, the second of January, when John J. Malone arrived at his office, pale and a trifle shaken, but otherwise none the worse for wear.
把凶杀组的丹尼尔?冯?弗拉纳根队长从法律的束缚中解救出来颇费一番周折。跨年夜离开办公室时，这位警察官员特意从口袋里拿出了他的证件和其他身份证明，还向马龙解释说如今警队里到处都是他的亲戚，你永远不知道会发生什么事。后来给他们做登记的值班警官没有认出这位警长，但冯?弗拉纳根立刻认出他是他姐夫的一个朋友，并自称是阿肯色州小石城的尤尼乌斯?麦吉利卡迪。
Extricating Captain Daniel von Flanagan of the homicide squad from the clutches of the law had taken a little doing. On leaving his office that New Year’s Eve, the police official had carefully removed his credentials and other identification from his pockets, explaining to Malone that the force was fairly crawling with his relatives nowadays, and that you never knew what might happen. The desk sergeant who had booked them had failed to recognize the officer, but von Flanagan had spotted him immediately as a friend of his brother-in-law, and had announced himself as one Junius P. McGillicuddy of Little Rock, Arkansas.
另一个与冯?弗拉纳根妻子家没有任何私人关系的值班警官拒绝接受任何进一步的解释。他说冯?弗拉纳根已经是那晚第十四个自称是警察部门官员的人了。
Another desk sergeant with no personal connections with von Flanagan’s 妻子’s kin, had refused to accept any further explanation. He stated that von Flanagan was the fourteenth guy that night who had claimed to be an official of the police department.
结果是凶杀组组长一直被关在监狱里，直到马龙设法找到既能让他获释而又不会使他陷入罪责的身份证明，特别是在他妻子的那些亲戚眼中。
The result had been that the chief of the homicide division had remained in jail until Malone managed to locate identification that would release him without incriminating him in the eyes of his in-laws.
这位小个子律师的漂亮黑发女秘书一脸不满的看着他。十六个小时的睡眠、刮了胡子以及一套新衣服让他的外表稍有改善，但也没好多少。
The little lawyer’s pretty, black-haired secretary looked at him with grim disapproval as he came in the door. Sixteen hours’ sleep, a shave, and a fresh suit had helped his appearance a little, but not much.
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“别说什么评论的话。” 马龙一边说一边在身后踢上门。“把我的支票存根再加一遍，确定总额是多少。上次可能你算错了。”
“Never mind the remarks,” Malone said, kicking the door shut behind him. “Just add up my check stubs again and make sure what my balance is. You may have had it wrong the last time.”
“我可不这么认为。” 她沮丧地说。“而且冯?弗拉纳根队长在过去的两个小时里一直在给你打电话。”
“I doubt it,” she said gloomily. “And Captain von Flanagan has been calling you for the past two hours.”
“如果他再打来，告诉他，要我嘴巴闭紧得要现金十美元。” 律师说。然后他走进他的私人办公室。
“If he calls again, tell him I’ll keep my mouth shut for ten dollars cash,” the lawyer said. He went on into his private office.
他把帽子和大衣扔在沙发上，在一个标有 “信息” 的文件夹里翻找，找到一个平底玻璃杯和一瓶半满的黑麦威士忌。犹豫了片刻后，他把杯子放回抽屉里，把瓶子凑到嘴边喝了一个大口，然后把瓶子又放了回去，坐到办公桌前。
He tossed his hat and overcoat on the sofa, rummaged through a file marked “Information,” and located a tumbler and a half-full bottle of rye. After a moment’s indecision he put the tumbler back in the drawer, with the bottle to his lips, and drank deeply. Then he replaced the bottle, and sat down at his desk.
过去四天积累起来一堆的信件，在这堆信件的最上面是一叠明信片。马龙用手指拨弄着它们，看到它们都有同样的画面：一幅色彩过于艳丽的大海、天空和两棵树。他数了数。正好有四十八张。
On top of the heap of correspondence that had been collecting for the last four days was a pile of postcards. Malone ran a finger over them, saw that they all bore the same picture; an overcolored reproduction of sea, sky, and two trees. He counted them. There were exactly forty-eight.
他把它们翻过来，注意到四十八张都有同样的邮戳和同样的消息：“玩得很开心，希望你也在这儿。” 二十四张署名 “杰克”，另外二十四张署名 “海伦”。
He turned them over, noted that all forty-eight had the same postmark and the same message: “Having wonderful time, wish you were here.” Twenty-four of them were signed “Jake,” the other twenty-four were signed “Helene.”
小个子律师把明信片整整齐齐地叠好，深深地叹了口气，然后把注意力转向其余的邮件。广告扔进了废纸篓，还有三个小信封也扔了进去，信封上分别是三种不同的女性笔迹。他打开四封商务信件，看了看日期和签名，然后把它们放进标有 “未读信件” 的文件夹里。他匆匆看了一眼第五封商务信件，然后把它放进标有 “未回复信件” 的文件夹里。其余的都是账单。
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The little lawyer laid them in a neat stack, sighed deeply, and turned his attention to the rest of the mail. Advertisements went in the wastebasket, so did three smallish envelopes, addressed in three different feminine handwritings. He opened four business letters, noted the dates and the signatures, and placed them in the file marked “Unread Correspondence.” He glanced through a fifth business letter and placed it in the file marked “Unanswered Correspondence.” The rest were bills.
他打开萨克斯百货的账单，看到那个来自巴黎咖啡馆的长腿黑发女子在和一个失业的单簧管演奏者去纽约之前，用他的账户买了六双长筒袜和一条紧身内衣的费用，他把账单揉成一个紧实的小纸团，扔到破旧的皮沙发下面。他快速看了一眼大楼物业管理公司送来的账单，读了用漂亮的斯宾塞字体写的措辞礼貌的便条，然后下定决心一旦有钱就把房租付了。他把那张账单塞进外套口袋，把其余的都扫进废纸篓，双手交叉放在脑后，向后靠在椅子上思考事情。
He opened the bill from Saks, saw that the long-legged brunette from Chez Paree had put six pairs of stockings and a girdle on his charge account before going to New York with an unemployed clarinet player, crumpled the bill into a tight little wad, and threw it under the worn leather couch. He took a quick look at the bill sent by the building management, read the politely worded note written in fine, Spencerian handwriting, and made a resolution to pay up the rent as soon as he had some money. He stuffed that bill in his coat pocket, swept the rest into the wastebasket, folded his hands behind his head, and leaned back in his chair to think things over.
那个漂亮的黑发女秘书把头探进来说：“我把所有的支票存根和银行对账单都核对过了。你的账户透支了十七美元五十美分。”
The pretty, black-haired secretary stuck her head in the door and said, “I’ve gone over all the the check stubs and the bank statement. You’re overdrawn exactly seventeen dollars and fifty cents.”
“那棒极了。” 马龙冷冰冰地说。“打电话给所有欠我钱的人，看看我们现在的情况怎么样。”
“That’s just dandy,” Malone said icily. “Call up all the people who owe me money and see where we stand.”
她轻蔑地看了他一眼。“如果不是你一直在和女人鬼混 ——”
小主，
She sniffed at him. “If you didn’t run around with women all the time—”
“我没有在女人身上花钱。” 马龙咆哮道。
“I don’t spend money on women,” Malone roared.
她发出一种粗鲁的、像马一样的声音，说：“你在女人身上无意花费的钱比大多数男人故意花费的还多。” 然后砰地一声关上了门。
She made a rude, horselike noise, said, “You intent to spend more money on women accidentally than most men do on purpose,” and slammed the door.
律师难过地摇了摇头，朝窗户瞥了一眼，看到外面正在下雨，叹了口气。他桌上的明信片引起了他的注意，他坐在那里，忧郁地盯着明信片上明亮的蓝天和海。至少杰克和海伦很幸福。此时此刻他们就在那里，沐浴在阳光下，心里只想着对方，而他却独自一人在这里。他又叹了口气。
The lawyer shook his head sadly, glanced toward the window, saw that it was raining outside, and sighed. The postcards on his desk caught his eye, and he sat staring gloomily at the brilliantly blue sky and sea. At least Jake and Helene were happy. There they were right at this moment, basking in the sunshine, thinking only of each other, while he was here all alone. He sighed again.
那个陌生人和那把钥匙，那个在乔天使酒吧断了气的陌生人，马龙皱起了眉头，那把钥匙整个晚上都在他的右边口袋里，而他一直没有机会检查它。现在它不见了，将永远也不会知道它能打开什么了。
The stranger and the key. The stranger who had breathed his last in Joe the Angel’s bar. Malone scowled. That key had been in his right-hand pocket all through the evening, and he hadn’t had a chance to examine it. Now it was gone, and he would never know what it might unlock.
去他的这一切！他一直都在妄下结论，仅此而已。或者是 “上” 结论？不管怎样，真相很可能是这样的。那个陌生人意识到自己快死了，就朝着他看到的第一扇门走去，结果那扇门就是乔天使酒吧的门。他跌跌撞撞地走进来，试图说 “电话”，当然，意思是打电话求助。至于那把钥匙，陌生人本想把一枚五分镍币或者一个代用币交给第一个他看到的人，结果弄错了，把钥匙拿了出来，而那时他已经处于生命的最后时刻。
The hell with the whole thing! He had been jumping over conclusions, that was all. Or was it “up” conclusions? Anyway, the truth was probably something like this. The stranger, realizing that he was dying, had headed for the first door in sight, which had turned out to be Joe the Angel’s. Staggering in, he had tried to say “telephone,” meaning, of course, to telephone for help. As far as the key was concerned, the stranger had meant to hand a nickel, or a slug, to the first person he saw, and had got his key by mistake, being, even then, in his last moment of consciousness.