羊腿與謀殺 Lamb to the Slaughter
羅德·達爾/Roald Dahl
羅爾德·達爾（Roald Dahl，1916-1990），挪威籍的英國傑出作家、劇作家和短篇小說作家，作品流傳於大人或小孩中，極為知名。他比較著名的作品有：《查理與巧克力工廠》（Charlie and the Chocolate Factory）、《詹姆斯與大仙桃》（James and the Giant Peach）、《瑪蒂爾達》（Matilda）、《女巫》（The Witches）、《吹夢巨人》（The BFG）。
The room was warm and clean, the curtains drawn, the two table lamps alight-hers and the one by the empty chair opposite. On the sideboard behind her, two tall glasses, soda water, whiskey. Fresh ice cubes in the Thermos bucket.
Mary Maloney was waiting for her husband to come him from work.
Now and again she would glance up at the clock, but without anxiety, merely to please herself with the thought that each minute gone by made it nearer the time when he would come. There was a slow smiling air about her, and about everything she did. The drop of a head as she bent over her sewing was curiously tranquil. Her skin-for this was her sixth month with child-had acquired a wonderful translucent quality, the mouth was soft, and the eyes, with their new placid look, seemed larger darker than before. When the clock said ten minutes to five, she began to listen, and a few moments later, punctually as always, she heard the tires on the gravel outside, and the car door slamming, the footsteps passing the window, the key turning in the lock. She laid aside her sewing, stood up, and went forward to kiss him as he came in.
“Hello darling,”she said.
“Hello darling,”he answered.
She took his coat and hung it in the closer. Then she walked over and made the drinks, a strongish one for him, a weak one for herself;and soon she was back again in her chair with the sewing, and he in the other, opposite, holding the tall glass with both hands, rocking it so the ice cubes tinkled against the side.
For her, this was always a blissful time of day. She knew he didn’t want to speak much until the first drink was finished, and she, on her side, was content to sit quietly, enjoying his company after the long hours alone in the house. She loved to luxuriate in the presence of this man, and to feel-almost as a sunbather feels the sun-that warm male glow that came out of him to her when they were alone together. She loved him for the way he sat loosely in a chair, for the way he came in a door, or moved slowly across the room with long strides. She loved intent, far look in his eyes when they rested in her, the funny shape of the mouth, and especially the way he remained silent about his tiredness, sitting still with himself until the whiskey had taken some of it away.
“Tired darling?”
“Yes,”he said.“I’m tired.”And as he spoke, he did an unusual thing. He lifted his glass and drained it in one swallow although there was still half of it, at least half of it left. She wasn’t really watching him, but she knew what he had done because she heard the ice cubes falling back against the bottom of the empty glass when he lowered his arm. He paused a moment, leaning forward in the chair, then he got up and went slowly over to fetch himself another.
“I’ll get it!”she cried, jumping up.
“Sit down,”he said.
When he came back, she noticed that the new drink was dark amber with the quantity of whiskey in it.
“Darling, shall I get your slippers?”
“No.”
She watched him as he began to sip the dark yellow drink, and she could see little oily swirls in the liquid because it was so strong.
“I think it’s a shame,”she said,“that when a policeman gets to be as senior as you, they keep him walking about on his feet all day long.”
He didn’t answer, so she bent her head again and went on with her sewing;bet each time he lifted the drink to his lips, she heard the ice cubes clinking against the side of the glass.
“Darling,”she said.“Would you like me to get you some cheese?I haven’t made any supper because it’s Thursday.”
“No,”he said.
“If you’re too tired to eat out,”she went on,“it’s still not too late. There’s plenty of meat and stuff in the freezer, and you can have it right here and not even move out of the chair.”
Her eyes waited on him for an answer, a smile, a little nod, but he made no sign.
“Anyway,”she went on,“I’ll get you some cheese and crackers first.”
“I don’t want it,”he said.
She moved uneasily in her chair, the large eyes still watching his face.“But you must eat!I’ll fix it anyway, and then you can have it or not, as you like.”
She stood up and placed her sewing on the table by the lamp.
“Sit down.”he said.“Just for a minute, sit down.”
It wasn’t till then that she began to get frightened.
“Go on,”he said.“Sit down.”
She lowered herself back slowly into the chair, watching him all the time with those large, bewildered eyes. He had finished the second drink and was staring down into the glass, frowning.
“Listen,”he said.“I’ve got something to tell you.”
“What is it, darling?What’s the matter?”
He had now become absolutely motionless, and he kept his head down so that the light from the lamp beside him fell across the upper part of his face, leaving the chin and mouth in shadow. She noticed there was a little muscle moving near the corner of his left eye.
“This is going to be a bit of a shock to you, I’m afraid,”he said.“But I’ve thought about it a good deal and I’ve decided the only thing to do is tell you right away. I hope you won’t blame me too much.”
And he told her. It didn’t take long, four or five minutes at most, and she say very still through it all, watching him with a kind of dazed horror as he went further and further away from her with each word.
“So there it is,”he added.“And I know it’s kind of a bad time to be telling you, but there simply wasn’t any other way. Of course I’ll give you money and see you’re looked after. But there needn’t really be any fuss. I hope not anyway. It wouldn’t be very good for my job.”
Her first instinct was not to believe any of it, to reject it all. It occurred to her that perhaps he hadn’t even spoken, that she herself had imagined the whole thing. Maybe, if she went about her business and acted as though she hadn’t been listening, then later, when she sort of woke up again, she might find none of it had ever happened.
“I’ll get the supper,”she managed to whisper, and this time he didn’t stop her.
When she walked across the room she couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor. She couldn’t feel anything at all-except a slight nausea and a desire to vomit. Everything was automatic now-down the steps to the cellar, the light switch, the deep freeze, the hand inside the cabinet taking hold of the first object it met. She lifted it out, and looked at it. It was wrapped in paper, so she took off the paper and looked at it again.
A leg of lamb.
All right then, they would have lamb for supper. She carried it upstairs, holding the thin bone-end of it with both her hands, and as she went through the living-room, she saw him standing over by the window with his back to her, and she stopped.
“For God’s sake,”he said, hearing her, but not turning round.“Don’t make supper for me. I’m going out.”
At that point, Mary Maloney simply walked up behind him and without any pause she swung the big frozen leg of lamb high in the air and brought it down as hard as she could on the back of his head.
She might just as well have hit him with a steel club.
She stepped back a pace, waiting, and the funny thing was that he remained standing there for at least four or five seconds, gently swaying. Then he crashed to the carpet.
The violence of the crash, the noise, the small table overturning, helped bring her out of he shock. She came out slowly, feeling cold and surprised, and she stood for a while blinking at the body, still holding the ridiculous piece of meat tight with both hands.
All right, she told herself. So I’ve killed him.
It was extraordinary, now, how clear her mind became all of a sudden. She began thinking very fast. As the wife of a detective, she knew quite well what the penalty would be. That was fine. It made no difference to her. In fact, it would be a relief. On the other hand, what about the child?What were the laws about murderers with unborn children?Did they kill them both-mother and child?Or did they wait until the tenth month?What did they do?
Mary Maloney didn’t know. And she certainly wasn’t prepared to take a chance.
She carried the meat into the kitchen, placed it in a pan, turned the oven on high, and shoved t inside. Then she washed her hands and ran upstairs to the bedroom. She sat down before the mirror, tidied her hair, touched up her lops and face. She tried a smile. It came out rather peculiar. She tried again.
“Hullo Sam,”she said brightly, aloud.
The voice sounded peculiar too.
“I want some potatoes please, Sam. Yes, and I think a can of peas.”
That was better. Both the smile and the voice were coming out better now.
She rehearsed it several times more. Then she ran downstairs, took her coat, went out the back door, down the garden, into the street.
It wasn’t six o’clock yet and the lights were still on in the grocery shop.
“Hullo Sam,”she said brightly, smiling at the man behind the counter.
“Why, good evening, Mrs. Maloney. How’re you?”
“I want some potatoes please, Sam. Yes, and I think a can of peas.”
The man turned and reached up behind him on the shelf for the peas.
“Patrick’ve decided he’s tired and doesn’t want to eat out tonight,”she told him.“We usually go out Thursdays, you know, and now he’s caught me without any vegetables in the house.”
“Then how about meat, Mrs. Maloney?”
“No, I’ve got meat, thanks. I got a nice leg of lamb from the freezer.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t know much like cooking it frozen, Sam, but I’m taking a chance on it this time. You think it’ll be all right?”
“Personally,”the grocer said,“I don’t believe it makes any difference. You want these Idaho potatoes?”
“Oh yes, that’ll be fine. Two of those.”
“Anything else?”The grocer cocked his head on one side, looking at her pleasantly.“How about afterwards?What you going to give him for afterwards?”
“Well-what would you suggest, Sam?”
The man glanced around his shop.“How about a nice big slice of cheesecake?I know he likes that.”
“Perfect,”she said.“He loves it.”
And when it was all wrapped and she had paid, she put on her brightest smile and said,“Thank you, Sam. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Maloney. And thank you.”
And now, she told herself as she hurried back, all she was doing now, she was returning home to her husband and he was waiting for his supper;and she must cook it good, and make it as tasty as possible because the poor man was tired;and if, when she entered the house, she happened to find anything unusual, or tragic, or terrible, then naturally it would be a shock and she’d become frantic with grief and horror. Mind you, she wasn’t expecting to find anything. She was just going home with the vegetables. Mrs. Patrick Maloney going home with the vegetables on Thursday evening to cook supper for her husband.
That’s the way, she told herself. Do everything right and natural. Keep things absolutely natural and there’ll be no need for any acting at all.
Therefore, when she entered the kitchen by the back door, she was humming a little tune to herself and smiling.
“Patrick!”she called.“How are you, darling?”
She put the parcel down on the table and went through into the living room;and when she saw him lying there on the floor with his legs doubled up and one arm twisted back underneath his body, it really was rather a shock. All the old love and longing for him welled up inside her, and she ran over to him, knelt down beside him, and began to cry her heart out. It was easy. No acting was necessary.
A few minutes later she got up and went to the phone. She know the number of the police station, and when the man at the other end answered, she cried to him,“Quick!Come quick!Patrick’s dead!”
“Who’s speaking?”
“Mrs. Maloney. Mrs. Patrick Maloney.”
“You mean Patrick Maloney’s dead?”
“I think so,”she sobbed.“He’s lying on the floor and I think he’s dead.”
“Be right over,”the man said.
The car came very quickly, and when she opened the front door, two policeman walked in. She know them both-she know nearly all the man at that precinct-and she fell right into a chair, then went over to join the other one, who was called O’Malley, kneeling by the body.
“Is he dead?”she cried.
“I’m afraid he is. What happened?”
Briefly, she told her story about going out to the grocer and coming back to find him on the floor. While she was talking, crying and talking, Noonan discovered a small patch of congealed blood on the dead man’s head. He showed it to O’Malley who got up at once and hurried to the phone.
Soon, other men began to come into the house. First a doctor, then two detectives, one of whom she know by name. Later, a police photographer arrived and took pictures, and a man who know about fingerprints. There was a great deal of whispering and muttering beside the corpse, and the detectives kept asking her a lot of questions. But they always treated her kindly. She told her story again, this time right from the beginning, when Patrick had come in, and she was sewing, and he was tired, so tired he hadn’t wanted to go out for supper. She told how she’d put the meat in the oven-”it’s there now, cooking”-and how she’d slopped out to the grocer for vegetables, and come back to find him lying on the floor.
Which grocer?”one of the detectives asked.
She told him, and he turned and whispered something to the other detective who immediately went outside into the street.
In fifteen minutes he was back with a page of notes, and there was more whispering, and through her sobbing she heard a few of the whispered phrases”……acted quite normal……very cheerful……wanted to give him a good supper……peas……cheesecake……impossible that she……”
After a while, the photographer and the doctor departed and two other men came in and took the corpse away on a stretcher. Then the fingerprint man went away. The two detectives remained, and so did the two policeman. They were exceptionally nice to her, and Jack Noonan asked if she wouldn’t rather go somewhere else, to her sister’s house perhaps, or to his own wife who would take care of her and put her up for the night.
No, she said. She didn’t feel she could move even a yard at the moment. Would they mind awfully of she stayed just where she was until she felt better. She didn’t feel too good at the moment, she really didn’t.
“Then hadn’t she better lie down on the bed?”Jack Noonan asked.
No, she said. She’d like to stay right where she was, in this chair. A little later, perhaps, when she felt better, she would move.
So they left her there while they went about their business, searching the house. Occasionally one of the detectives asked her another question. Sometimes Jack Noonan spoke at her gently as he passed by. Her husband, he told her, had been killed by a blow on the back of the head administered with a heavy blunt instrument, almost certainly a large piece of metal. They were looking for the weapon. The murderer may have taken it with him, but on the other hand he may have thrown it away or hidden it somewhere on the premises.
“It’s the old story.”he said.“Get the weapon, and you’ve got the man.”
Later, one of the detectives came up and sat beside her. Did she know, he asked, of anything in the house that could’ve been used as the weapon?Would she mind having a look around to see if anything was missing-a very big spanner, for example, or a heavy metal vase.
They didn’t have any heavy metal vases, she said.
“Or a big spanner?”
She didn’t think they had a big spanner. But there might be some things like that in the garage.
The search went on. She knew that there were other policemen in the garden all around the house. She could hear their footsteps on the gravel outside, and sometimes she saw a flash of a torch through a chink in the curtains. It began to get late, nearly nine she noticed by the clock on the mantle. The four men searching the rooms seemed to be growing weary, a trifle exasperated.
“Jack,”she said, the next tome Sergeant Noonan went by.“Would you mind giving me a drink?”
“Sure I’ll give you a drink. You mean this whiskey?”
“Yes please. But just a small one. It might make me feel better.”
He handed her the glass.
“Why don’t you have one yourself,”she said.“You must be awfully tired. Please do. You’ve been very good to me.”
“Well,”he answered.“It’s not strictly allowed, but I might take just a drop to keep me going.”
One by one the others came in and were persuaded to take a little nip of whiskey. They stood around rather awkwardly with the drinks in their hands, uncomfortable in her presence, trying to say consoling things to her. Sergeant Noonan wandered into the kitchen, come out quickly and said,“Look, Mrs. Maloney. You know that oven of yours is still on, and the meat still inside.”
“Oh dear me!”she cried.“So it is!”
“I better turn it off for you, hadn’t I?”
“Will you do that, Jack. Thank you so much.”
When the sergeant returned the second time, she looked at him with her large, dark tearful eyes.“Jack Noonan,”she said.
“Yes?”
“Would you do me a small favor-you and these others?”
“We can try, Mrs. Maloney.”
“Well,”she said.“Here you all are, and good friends of dear Patrick’s too, and helping to catch the man who killed him. You must be terrible hungry by now because it’s long past your suppertime, and I know Patrick would never forgive me, God bless his soul, if I allowed you to remain in his house without offering you decent hospitality. Why don’t you eat up that lamb that’s in the oven. It’ll be cooked just right by now.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,”Sergeant Noonan said.
“Please,”she begged.“Please eat it. Personally I couldn’t tough a thing, certainly not what’s been in the house when he was here. But it’s all right for you. It’d be a favor to me if you’d eat it up. Then you can go on with your work again afterwards.”
There was a good deal of hesitating among the four policemen, but they were clearly hungry, and in the end they were persuaded to go into the kitchen and help themselves. The woman stayed where she was, listening to them speaking among themselves, their voices thick and sloppy because their mouths were full of meat.
“Have some more, Charlie?”
“No. Better not finish it.”
“She wants us to finish it. She said so. Be doing her a favor.”
“Okay then. Give me some more.”
“That’s the hell of a big club the guy must have used to hit poor Patrick,”one of them was saying.“The doc says his skull was smashed all to pieces just like from a sledgehammer.”
“That’s why it ought to be easy to find.”
“Exactly what I say.”
“Whoever done it, they’re not going to be carrying a thing like that around with them longer than they need.”
One of them belched.
“Personally, I think it’s right here on the premises.”
“Probably right under our very noses. What you think, Jack?”
And in the other room, Mary Maloney began to giggle.
屋子裏整潔而溫暖，窗簾合著，桌上的兩盞台燈亮著——其中的一盞放在她身邊，另一盞在對麵空著的椅子旁邊。在她的身後，擺著一個餐具櫃，上麵放著兩隻高高的玻璃杯，還有蘇打水，威士忌什麽的，保溫器皿中有幾塊新鮮的冰塊。
瑪麗·馬勒尼正等著她的丈夫下班回家。
每隔一段時間，她都會抬頭看一下鍾表，不過神情並不著急。看時間隻是為了讓自己高興一些，因為一想到每逝去一分鍾，丈夫回家的時間就近一點，她就很高興。她的周圍有一種溫和的、愉快的氛圍，她的一舉一動都那麽不緊不慢。當她弓著身子做針線活時，低頭的動作非常平靜，平靜得出奇。她已經有六個月的身孕了，皮膚開始呈現出一種奇妙的透明色澤，嘴角很柔軟，眼睛裏透露出平靜，使那雙眸子顯得比更大、更黑了。當鍾表的指針指向四點五十的時候，她開始側耳傾聽外麵的聲音，不一會兒的工夫，就聽見車胎在屋外的沙礫上碾過的聲音，甩上車門的聲音，走過窗戶的腳步聲，鑰匙在鎖孔中轉動的聲音——這些聲音總是那麽準時。她放下手裏的針線活，站起身，走到房門，送給丈夫一個吻。
“親愛的，回來啦！”她說。
“嗯，親愛的！”他答道。
她幫他脫掉外麵的大衣，掛在衣櫥裏，然後走過來，倒好酒，把稍微濃烈的一杯給了丈夫，自己拿了一杯淡點的。不一會兒，她又坐到椅子上做她的針線活去了。而她的丈夫，坐在她的對麵，雙手拿著那高高的玻璃杯不斷搖晃著，弄得冰塊在杯壁上碰得丁丁當當直響。
對她來說，這個時間是一天中最幸福的時刻。她知道，在喝完第一杯酒之前，他不想說太多話。但是她非常知足，在一邊安靜地坐著。孤零零的一人在屋子裏度過漫長的時光後，她現在格外享受他的陪伴，心裏無比欣喜。有這個男人在身邊，她就覺得很幸福，她實在是這種感覺了——隻有他們兩個人的時候，她能夠感覺到他身上那股溫暖的雄性熱量包圍著她，仿佛沐浴在陽光裏一樣。她愛他，愛他懶散地坐在椅子裏的樣子，愛他開門進來時的樣子，愛他邁著大步慢悠悠地在房間裏穿梭的樣子。她愛他，愛他望著她時那種專注而深邃的眼神，愛他那逗趣的嘴形，特別是他那一副什麽話也不說、略顯困乏的樣子。他就那麽一聲不吭地在那坐著，直到在威士忌的作用下消除一些疲倦為止。
“親愛的，是不是很累？”
“是的，”他說，“我確實累了。”他一邊說，一邊做了一件頗不尋常的事情：舉起手裏的杯子，把剩下的酒一氣飲幹了——杯子裏麵原本還剩半杯酒，至少還有半杯。實際上，她沒有抬頭看他，但是對他剛剛做了什麽心知肚明，因為當他放下杯子時，她聽到冰塊掉下去時撞擊空杯底部的聲音。他停了一會兒，然後身體向前傾，從椅子上站起來，慢慢走到一邊，想給自己再倒一杯酒。
“讓我來吧！”她從椅子上跳起來說道。
“你坐下，”他對她說。
當他倒完酒回來時，她注意到杯子裏新添的酒透出深深的琥珀色，估計是威士忌的量多的緣故。
“親愛的，需要我給你把拖鞋拿來嗎？”
“不用。”
他開始小口小口地喝那深黃色的酒，她把目光轉移到他身上。她看見酒液裏有一些油乎乎的小漩渦，因為酒真的很濃烈。
“我覺得挺可惜的，”她開口說話了，“像你這樣高級警察，他們竟然讓你一天到晚地四處跑，沒有多少時間休息，真是太可惜了！”
他對她剛才的一番話沒有反應。於是，她又低下頭繼續做她的針線活；不過，每次他把酒杯舉到唇邊，到最後冰塊撞在杯壁上的清脆響聲她都能聽到。
“親愛的，”她說，“要不要我給你拿點奶酪來？因為今天星期四，是外出吃飯的日子，所以，我沒準備晚飯。”
“不用了。”他回答道。
“如果你太累了，確實不想出去的話，”她繼續說著，“現在時間還不算太晚，冰箱裏麵還有足夠多的肉以及其他一些東西，在家裏就可以吃，甚至連站都不要你站起來。”
她一直看著她，等他的回話，或者一個微笑，哪怕是輕輕地點一下頭也行。但是，他沒給她任何反饋的信息。
“不管怎麽說，”她繼續說著，“我先給你弄點奶酪和餅幹來。”
“我什麽都不想吃，”他開口了。
她那雙大大的眼睛盯著他的臉，在椅子上不安地動了一下，“可是，你一定得吃飯！無論如何我要準備晚飯，就在家裏，然後你再決定吃與不吃，到時候隨你的便”。
她從椅子上站了起來，把手裏的針線活放在桌子上的台燈旁邊。
“你先坐下，”他說，“就一會兒時間，快坐下。”
直到這時，她才有點害怕。
“就這樣，”他說，“坐下。”
她慢慢地彎下腰，又坐進椅子裏，一直用她那雙大眼睛注視著他，眼睛裏顯然是一種惶恐。他已經喝完第二杯酒了，正低頭盯著那隻玻璃杯，眉頭緊鎖。
“聽我說，”他說，“有一些事情我必須讓你知道？”
“什麽事，親愛的？到底發生什麽事了？”
現在，他已經完全不動了，像僵在那裏，耷拉著腦袋，身邊的那盞台燈發出來的光隻能照到他的上部分臉龐，嘴和下巴部分在陰影裏。她注意到他的左眼角邊上，一塊小小的肌肉在**。
“我擔心這件事會讓你受打擊。”他說，“但是，關於這件事，我已經想了很多，最後決定，我唯一能做的就是馬上告訴你。希望你不要責怪我。”
於是他把整件事情告訴了她，沒有花多少時間，最多四五分鍾。在這期間，她都非常安靜地坐著，望著他，聽他一個詞一個詞地說下去，感覺他越來越遠。她的臉上，分明是一種不知所措的驚恐表情。
“事情就是這個樣子，”他補充說，“我知道，我現在把這件事告訴你可能不是時候，但實在沒有別的辦法了。當然，我會給你一些錢，並且保證有人照顧你。不過，真的沒有必要為這件事情大驚小怪的，無論如何，我不希望你大吵大鬧，那對我的工作沒什麽好處。”
最初的時候，她本能地不相信他說的每一個字，本能地否認整件事情。她想，也許他本來就沒說過這一番話，這一切都是她想像出來的。或許，她當時繼續做她手中的活，假裝什麽都沒聽見，那麽，怎麽說呢，當她再次醒來的時候，她也許會發現什麽都沒發生過。
“我把晚飯拿過來，”她好不容易說出來這幾個字，不過音量像說悄悄話一樣低。這一次，他沒有阻止她。
她走過房間時，感覺自己好像不在地板，身體似乎飄了起來。她對一切事物都失去了感覺，唯一能感覺到的是一種輕微的惡心和嘔吐感。現在，她所做的一切都好像是機械運動，一點感情都沒有——下樓梯，進地窖，打開電燈開關和冰冷的冰箱，伸手在裏麵摸索，不加思索地把第一個觸到的東西拿出來。這個東西用紙包著，於是，她將紙剝掉，看了看它。
一條羔羊腿。
就這樣，她想，他們的晚餐是羔羊肉。她拿著它上了樓，雙手緊攥住羊腿骨比較細的一端。走過客廳時，她看見他遠遠地直立在窗戶旁邊，背對著她。於是，她停了下來。
“看在上帝的份上，”他說，因為他察覺出她在身後，但是沒有轉過身麵對她，“別給我做晚飯了，我馬上要出去了。”
就在那一刻，瑪麗·馬勒尼徑直走到他身後，毫不猶豫地把那隻冷凍的羔羊腿掄到空中，使出全身力氣向他砸下去，狠狠地砸在他的後腦勺上。
她倒不如用鐵棍子來砸他。說實在的，鐵棍子也許比這溫柔一些。
她向後退了一步，呆在那裏。有趣的是，他在原地保持站姿至少四五秒鍾，輕輕晃動著，然後，砰一聲倒在了地毯上。
他倒下去時的巨震和小桌子被撞翻的噪音，使她從失神中驚醒過來。她慢慢地恢複了平靜，覺得身體很冷，對周圍的一切很吃驚。她在那裏站了一會兒，眼睛眨巴著注視他的屍體，雙手還緊緊攥著那塊滑稽的肉。
就這樣，她告訴自己，是我把他殺了。
現在，她的頭腦一下子變得非常清醒——這簡直不敢想象。她開始快速思考，作為一名偵探的妻子，她很清楚等待她的將是怎樣的懲罰。不過沒關係，這對她來說已經不重要了。實際上，這種結局反而成為她的一種解脫方式。不過話又說回來，他們的孩子怎麽辦？法律怎麽處決肚子裏有孩子的殺人犯？莫非把他們母子兩個都處決掉？還是要等到第十個月孩子生下來後再處決她？他們會怎麽做呢？
瑪麗·馬勒尼對這些茫然不知。當然，她也不打算親自嚐試一下。
她把羊肉拿到廚房，放進平底鍋裏，打開高處的烤箱，將它放了進去。然後她洗了一下手，跑到樓上的臥室。她在鏡子前麵坐了下來，理了理蓬亂的頭發，用手在雙唇和臉上又拍又按。她試著露個笑臉，但是個相當古怪的笑臉。於是她又試了試。
“你好，塞姆，”她異常興奮地大著嗓門說。
這聲音聽起來一樣怪異。
“塞姆，請給我來一些土豆。對了，我還想要一聽豌豆。”
這樣說好多了。現在，她的笑臉和聲音比較自然了。
她反複練習了幾遍。然後跑下樓，拿起外套，從後門出去了。她穿過花園，一直來到大街上。
時間不到六點，雜貨店的燈還亮著。
“你好，塞姆。”她高興地說，朝櫃台後麵的男人堆起了笑臉。
“哎呀，晚上好，馬勒尼夫人。最近還好吧？”
“嗯，請給我來一些土豆。對了，我還想要一聽豌豆。”
櫃台男人轉過身，伸手取背後架子上的豌豆。
“帕特裏克覺得很累，今晚不想出去吃了，”她告訴他說，“一般情況下，我們星期四都要到外麵吃的，這你也知道。現在好了，他把我逮了個正著，家裏一點蔬菜都沒有。”
“要不再來點肉怎麽樣，馬勒尼夫人？”
“不用了，家裏還有肉，謝謝，我有一條非常棒的羔羊腿，凍在冰箱裏呢。”
“哦，這樣啊。”
“我不大喜歡燒凍的東西，塞姆，不過這次我倒想試試。你覺得這個主意怎樣？”
“就我個人而言，”店家說道，“我覺得沒什麽區別。你要愛達荷土豆嗎？”
“嗯，沒錯，這個挺好的，要兩個。”
“還要點別的什麽嗎？”店家歪著頭，愉快地望著她。“然後呢？您想飯後為他準備點什麽？”
“這個——你覺得呢，有什麽好建議嗎，塞姆？”
男人環視了一下自己的店鋪。“一大塊鮮美的奶酪蛋糕怎麽樣？我知道他喜歡吃這個。”
“好極了，”她說道，“他是愛吃奶酪蛋糕。”
店主把東西包起來，她付完錢，露出平生最燦爛的一個微笑，說，“謝謝你，塞姆，晚安。”
“晚安，馬勒尼夫人。歡迎下次再來。”
現在，她急匆匆地往家裏趕時，不時地對自己說話，安慰自己，說是在回家的路上，要回家陪丈夫，因為丈夫正等著她回去做晚飯呢。她要努力把晚飯做好，盡最大的可能把飯菜做得香噴可口，好讓累了一天的丈夫美美地吃一頓。如果她推開門意外發現什麽不尋常的事情，也許是悲傷的事情，或者是可怕的事情，那麽，她理所當然會被嚇著，她會由於內心悲傷和恐懼而瘋掉。提醒你一下，她不期望發現任何事。她僅僅是在外麵買了些蔬菜，然後回到家裏。這就是說，在星期四的晚上，帕特裏克·馬勒尼夫人在外麵買了些蔬菜，然後回到家裏，想為她的丈夫做一頓晚飯。
就這麽定了，她暗自告訴自己。所有的事情都妥當地處理一下，然後順其自然。一切完全按照往常進行，根本沒必要偽裝。
因此，當她穿過後門走進廚房時，她還輕鬆地哼著小曲兒，笑著。
“帕特裏克！”她大聲喊著，“親愛的，你還好嗎？”
她把包裹放在桌子上，徑直往客廳走去。當她看見丈夫躺在地上，兩條腿彎曲著，一隻胳膊畸形地被壓在身體下麵時，真是被嚇了一跳。所有往日的愛，以及她對他的眷戀之情，此時此刻都在她心裏翻湧起來。於是，她來到他屍體旁邊，靠著他跪了下來，昏天黑地哭了起來，哭聲那麽真切，撕心裂肺。她很容易做到這一點，沒有必要偽裝。
過了一會兒，她站起來，打算打個電話。她知道警察局的電話號碼。電話接通後，那邊的男子回話時，她叫了起來：“快！快來啊！帕特裏克死了！”
“您是哪位？”
“馬勒尼夫人。帕特裏克·馬勒尼夫人。”
“您的意思是帕特裏克·馬勒尼死了？”
“我覺得是的，”她一邊哭泣，一邊說道，“他一動不動地躺在地上，我感覺他死了。”
“我們立刻過去，”那個男人說。
警車很快趕過來了。她打開前門，兩個警察走了進來。這兩位她都認識——她基本上認識這個管轄區的所有警員們——她坐到椅子上休息一下，接著走到另一個警員奧邁利身邊，他正蹲在屍體旁。
“他真的死了嗎？”她哭著說。
“恐怕是的。發生什麽事了？”
她簡短地把自己的經曆給他們講了一遍：出門上雜貨店買東西，回來後便發現他躺在地上。當她訴說的時候，應該說當她哭訴的時候，努南發現死者頭部有一個凝固的小血塊。於是，他指給奧邁利看，奧邁利立刻站了起來，快速來到電話旁打電話。
不一會兒，其他警方人員陸續來到現場。先到的是一個法醫，緊接著是兩名警探，她知道其中一位警探的姓名。後來又來了一個警局的攝影師，並對現場進行了拍照，還有一個檢測指紋的人。這些人在屍體的周圍小聲的嘀咕著，並且問了她很多問題。不過，他們對她的態度一直都很好。她把她經曆的一切又講述了一次，這一次，她是從最開始說起：當帕特裏克下班回來的時候，她正在做針線活。他說他累壞了，所以不想出去吃晚飯。接著她又告訴他們，她是怎樣一步步把肉放進烤箱的——“瞧，就在那兒烤著，”——還有，她又是怎樣從後門出去，然後來到雜貨店裏，買了些晚飯用的蔬菜，回到家之後卻發現丈夫躺在了地上。
“哪家雜貨店？”其中一個警探問道。
她如實地說了。隨即，這個警探又轉身朝另一個警探小聲說了幾句話。那個警探聽完後立刻離開房間，不知跑到大街的什麽地方去了。
十五分鍾後，那個警探拿來一張紙，上麵記錄著什麽，接著他們倆個小聲說了很長時間，她在抽泣中隱約能聽到些耳語——“……舉止很正常……十分開心……想為丈夫做一頓可口的晚飯……豌豆……奶酪蛋糕……她……不可能……”
過了一會兒，攝影師和法醫離開了，進來兩個其他的人。他們把屍體放在擔架上，抬出去了。接下來那個檢測指紋的人也離開了。兩個警探沒有走開，另外的兩個警察也留了下來。他們對她特別好，傑克·努南問她是否願意到其他地方去走走，可以去她姐姐家，或者去和自己的妻子相處一會兒，他妻子會好好照顧她的，會讓她踏踏實實地睡一個好覺。
她沒有同意，哪都不想去。這會兒她覺得自己連動都動不了，就在原地安靜地呆會兒，直到感覺好點為止，希望他們不要太介意。因為這件事情，她感覺身體不太舒服，可以說極其不舒服。
傑克·努南建議她到**躺一會兒，也許會好一些。
她沒有采取這個建議，她說她隻想在原來的地方呆著，隻想在這把椅子裏坐著不動。也許，過了一會兒，她感覺好些了，會走動走動。
於是，他們把她留在那裏，開始忙自己的事情——搜索整個住宅。時不時地，一個探員會跑過來問她一些問題。有時，當傑克·努南從她跟前經過的時候，會像一個紳士，和她說上幾句話。他告訴她，她的丈夫是由於後腦勺遭受很沉的鈍器猛擊而致死的，基本上可以肯定，凶手所用的凶器是一件大型的金屬器具。他們正在尋找這個凶器。凶手可能已經把它隨身帶走了，但是也不能排除把它扔掉了，也有可能藏在這棟房子的某個地方。
“都是老一套了，”他說，“隻要找到了凶器，就很容易抓到凶手。”
過了一會兒，其中的一個警探走到她身邊坐了下來。他問她，房間裏是不是有一些可以當作凶器的東西，如果她不介意的話，可以四處檢查一下，看看有沒有少了某些東西——比如，那種特別大的扳手，或者是很重的金屬質地的花瓶。
她告訴他們，家裏從來就沒有那種很重的金屬質地的花瓶。
“那是否有那種大型的扳手呢？”
她說也沒有印象他們有過大的扳手。但是，她說這種東西應該能在車庫裏找到。
他們繼續進行搜索。她知道，除了眼前的這些警察，還有其他的警察在院子裏麵，遍布整個宅子。她能清晰到聽到他們的腳步聲，聽到他們踩在石子上麵的聲音。偶爾，她會透過窗簾的縫隙看見手電筒的閃光。夜色慢慢變深，她看見壁爐上方的鍾表指針已經指向九點。搜查房間的那四個男人估計有些疲倦了，看起來有點惱火。
“傑克，麻煩你幫我拿杯喝的好不好？”努南警官再次在她身邊走過時，她對他說。
“當然可以，這就給你拿，你是不是要這個威士忌？”
“沒錯，就是這個，謝謝。不過，一小杯就行了。我想，這也許能讓我感覺好些。”
他把一小杯威士忌遞給她。
“你何不也倒一杯呢，”她說，“你一定累壞了吧，喝一杯吧。一直以來，你對我都這麽關心。”
“是這樣，”他答道，“我們有嚴格規定，不許喝酒，不過稍微喝一點也無妨，這樣好有力氣幹活。”
其他的警察也陸續走進屋，在她的鼓勵下，他們都喝了一小口威士忌酒。他們在她周圍站著，手裏都拿著酒杯，可能是因為她在場的原因，所以有點拘謹，不自在。他們盡量對她說一些安慰的話。努南警官晃晃悠悠地走進廚房，但是很快又出來了，“我說，馬勒尼夫人，你是不是忘了你們家的烤箱還開著呢，並且烤肉還在裏邊。”
“啊，天呐！”她叫道，“我還真把它給忘了，烤箱確實還開著呢！”
“我還是幫你把它關了吧，怎麽樣？”
“真讓你費心了，那就麻煩你把它關了吧，太謝謝你了。”
當傑克·努南警官再次回來時，她用她那雙又黑又大的眼睛望著他，眼睛裏充滿著淚水，“傑克·努南，”她說。
“怎麽了？”
“你可不可以幫我一個小忙？——你，還有剩下的人，”她對屋裏所有的人說。
“我們會盡力而為的，馬勒尼夫人。”
“是這樣，”她說，“你們今天都來到這裏，還有親愛的帕特裏克的好友們，你們為了抓到殺害他的凶手費勁心血。我想，現在你們肯定餓得不行了，因為現在早已過了晚飯的時間了，並且，如果我繼續讓你們呆在房子裏，而不好好地招待你們一下的話，我的丈夫帕特裏克永遠不會原諒我的，上帝保佑他的靈魂。我有一個想法，想讓你們把烤箱裏的烤羊肉吃掉，當作是晚餐吧。我想，羊肉應該剛好烤熟了，怎麽樣？”
“真是連做夢都夢不到的好事，”努南警官說。
“拜托你們了，”她乞求道，“你們就把它吃掉吧。就我本人而言，我不能碰這裏的任何東西。當然，當他在的時候，情況是不一樣的。但是你們不一樣，你們可以隨便碰屋裏的東西。你們要是把羊肉吃了，那可真是幫了我的大忙了。吃完後，你們就有力氣繼續工作了。”
四名警察猶豫了很長一段時間，不過很明顯，他們確實都已經非常餓了。經過她一番真誠地邀請後，他們急忙跑到廚房，為空****的肚子填東西去了。女人坐在原位上，聽著他們在廚房裏說笑著，他們的聲音雖然很大，但是聽不清說什麽，因為嘴裏塞滿了烤熟的羊肉。
“多吃點，查理。”
“還是算了吧，別把人家的肉吃光了。”
“是她要我們吃光的，她不是說了嗎，務必幫她這個忙。”
“那好吧，再給我來點。”
“歹徒肯定是用一根可以致人於死地的大型棒器殺害可憐的帕特裏克的，”其中一個人說道，“法醫說，他的頭骨已經被擊碎了，好像是被鐵錘擊過過一樣。”
“所以說，這麽大的凶器應該很容易找到的。”
“這正是我要說的。”
“不管是什麽人，幹完之後，都不會攜帶那麽笨重的東西四處溜達。”
其中一個人打了個飽嗝。
“要我說呀，那凶器肯定就在這兒，就在宅子的什麽地方藏著呢！”
“可能就在我們眼皮子底下。你說是吧，傑克？”
這時候，在另一房間裏，瑪麗·馬勒尼笑了起來。
詞匯筆記
sideboard['sa?d, b?rd]n.餐具櫥，餐櫃
The sideboard is filthy-can you give it a dust?
餐具櫃很髒，你能把它擦幹淨嗎？
placid['pl?s?d]adj.平和的，寧靜的；溫和的；滿意的，滿足的；平緩
She was a placid child who rarely cried.
她是個性情溫和的孩子，很少哭鬧。
punctually['p??kt???l?]adv.如期地，準時地；正點
My guest arrived punctually.
我的客人來得很準時。
swirl[sw?rl]n.（水，風等的）旋轉，漩渦；＜美＞彎曲；渦狀形；卷狀的東西
He breathes out a swirl of cigarette smoke.
他吐出一串煙圈。
小試身手
每隔一段時間，她都會抬頭看一下鍾表，不過神情並不著急。
對她來說，這個時間是一天中最幸福的時刻。
她一直看著她，等他的回話，或者一個微笑，哪怕是輕輕地點一下頭也行。
Mary Maloney was waiting for her husband to come him fromwork.
wait for：等待；＜非正＞注意；＜非正＞推遲（用餐）直到（某人）到達；觀望形勢後再作決定
Now and again she would glance up at the clock, but without anxiety……
now and again：時而，偶爾，有時