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Ellery Queen 1932 The Tragedy o…举报

简介:

First appearance of Drury Lane. Introduces the classic Queenian motif of the "dying message," Elaborate mystery in this book, involving three complex murders, with a somewhat far fetched solution.

ElleryQueen-1-螺旋楼梯e书架TheTragedyofXBarnabyRossakaElleryQueenWelcometoVisithttp://shop58126388.taobao.com/http://tan.kongfz.com/book/5283/TheTragedyofX-2-双重密室ACTITHEHAMLETTUESDAY,SEPTEMBER8,10:30A.M.Below,shimmeringinabluehaze,wastheHudsonRiver,awhitesailscuddedbyaplacidsteamboatwaddledupstream.Theautomobilepusheditswayalongthenarrowwindingroad,risingsteadily.Itstwopassengerslookedoutandup.Farabove,framedincloud,wereunbelievablemedievalturrets,stoneramparts,crenelatedbattlements,aqueerlyancientchurch-spire.Itsneedlepointroseoutofasturdyforestofgreen.Thetwolookedateachother.“I’mbeginningtofeelliketheConnecticutYankee,”saidone,shiveringslightly.Theother,largeandsquare,growled:“Knightsinarmor,hey?”Thecarslammedtoastopataquaintrudebridge.Fromathatchedhutnearbysteppedaruddylittleoldman.Hepointedwordlesslyataswingingwoodensignabovethedoorwhichsaid,inoldEnglishcharacters:NoTrespassingTheHamletElleryQueen-3-螺旋楼梯e书架Thelargesquaremanleanedoutoftheautomobilewindowandyelled:“WewanttoseeDruryLane!”“Yes,sir.”Thelittleoldmanhoppedforward.“Andyouradmissioncards,gentlemen?”Thevisitorsstaredandthefirstmanshrugged.Thelargemansaidsharply:“Mr.Laneexpectsus.”“Oh.”Thebridgemasterscratchedhisgraypollanddisappearedintohishut.Hereturnedinamoment,briskly.“Ibegyourpardon,gentlemen.Thisway.”Hescuttledforwardtothebridge,manipulatedacreakingirongate,stoodback.Thecarrolledoverthebridge,pickingupspeedonacleangravelroad.TheTragedyofX-4-双重密室Scene1Ashortdrivethroughthegreenoakforestandthecaremergedintoaspaciousclearing.Thecastle,asleepinggiant,sprawledbeforethem,stakedtotheHudsonhillsbypunygranitewalls.Amassiveiron-haspeddoorswungbackgroaningfromthewallasthecarapproached,andanotheroldmanstoodaside,tuggingathiscapandsmilingcheerfully.Theywereonanotherroadwindingthroughariotofcultivatedgardens,guardedfromthedrivewaybymathematicallyprecisehedgesandpunctuatedbyyewtrees.Torightandleft,offsidelanes,gabledcottagesrosefromthegardens,dippingintogentleswaleslikehousesoutoffairy-land.InthecenterofaflowergardennearbywaterdrippedfromastoneAriel…Theycameatlasttothestrongholditself.Again,ontheirElleryQueen-5-螺旋楼梯e书架approach,anoldmananticipatedtheircomingandamonstrousdrawbridgeclankedforwardoverthesparklingwatersofamoat.Theimmenseoak-and-irondoorbeyondthedrawbridge,twentyfeethigh,openedontheinstant,anastonishinglyrubicundlittlemanattiredintwinklingliverystoodthere,bowingandsmilingandscrapingasifhewereenjoyingavastsecretjest.Thevisitors,eyeswidewithamazement,scrambledfromtheirvehicleandthunderedacrosstheironbridge.“DistrictAttorneyBruno?InspectorThumm?Thisway,please.”Thepotbelliedoldservitorrepeatedhiscalisthenicwelcomeandtrudgedcheerfullybeforethemintothesixteenthcentury.Theystoodinamanorialhallofavastyawesomeness.Hugelybeamedceilings.Winkingmetal-armoredknights.Peggedoldpieces.Onthefarthestwall,dominatingeventhatValhalla,leeredagargantuanmaskofComedyandontheoppositewallfrownedatwinmaskofTragedy,theywerecarvedoutoftime-bittenoak.Betweenthem,fromtheceiling,hungaprodigiouscandelabraofwroughtiron,itsgiantcandlesoutwardlyinnocentofelectricalwiring.Outofadoorsetinthefarthestwallnowsteppedaqueerfigurefromthepast,ahunchbackedancient—bald,bewhiskered,wrinkled,wearingatatteredleatherapronlikeablacksmith.TheDistrictAttorneyandInspectorThummlookedateachotherandtheInspectormuttered:“Aretheyalloldmen?”Theoldhunchbackcamesprylyforwardtogreetthem.“Goodday,gentlemen.WelcometoTheHamlet.”Hespokeinclippedandcreakingtones,grotesquelyasifhewereunaccustomedtospeakingatall.Heturnedtotheoldmaninliveryandsaid:“Whisht,Falstaff,”andDistrictAttorneyBrunoopenedhisTheTragedyofX-6-双重密室wideeyesevenwider.“Falstaff...”hegroaned.“Why,it’ssimplyimpossible.Thatcan’tbehisname!”Thehunchbackruffledhiswhiskers.“No,sir.HeusedtobeJakePinna,theactor.Butthat’swhatMr.Drurycallshim....Thisway,please.”Heconductedthembackacrosstheboomingfloortothesamelittleportalfromwhichhehadcome.Hetouchedthewall,thedoorslidopen.Anelevatorinthiscourtier-hauntedplace!Shakingtheirheads,theyenteredthecubiclefollowedbytheirguide.Theywerewhiskedupward,theelevatorsoftlystopped,anotherlittledoorpoppedopenatonce,andthehunchbacksaid:“Mr.Lane’sprivateapartments.”Massive,massive,old....EverythingwasoldandflavoredandredolentofElizabethanEngland.Leatherandoak,oakandstone.Inafireplacetwelvefeetwide,toppedbyasolidbeambronzedbyageandsmoke,asmallfirewasburning.Bruno,hisbrowneyesalert,wassuddenlygratefulfortheheat,theairwasslightlychill.Theysankintogreatoldchairsattheirguide’sgnomishgesture,crossingglancesofwonder.Theancientstoodverystillnearthewall,graspinghisbeard,thenhestirredandsaid,quiteclearly:“Mr.DruryLane.”Involuntarilythetwomenrose,atallmanstoodregardingthemfromthethreshold.Thehunchbackwasbobbinghisheadnow,aweirdgrinonhisleatheryoldface.Inspiteofthemselves,andtotheirownhelplessconsternation,theDistrictAttorneyandtheInspectorfoundthemselvesbowingtoo.Mr.DruryLanestrodeintotheroomandextendedapaleElleryQueen-7-螺旋楼梯e书架muscularhand.“Gentlemen.I’mdelighted.Pleasesitdown.”Brunolookeddeeplyintogray-greeneyesofutterquietude,hebegantospeakandwasstartledtoobservetheeyesdropsharplytohisownlips.“GoodofyoutoreceiveInspectorThummandmyself,Mr.Lane,”hemurmured.“We—well,wedon’tknowquitewhattosay.Youhaveanamazingestate,sir.”“Amazingatfirstglance,Mr.Bruno,butonlybecauseitpresentstothetwentieth-centuryeye,surfeitedwithsevereangles,ananachronisticquaintness.”Theactor’svoicewasserene,likehiseyes,butricher,itseemedtoBruno,thananyvoicehehadeverheardbefore.“Oncloseracquaintanceyouwillgrowtoloveit,asIdo.TheHamlet,oneofmycolleaguesoncesaid,isabackdrop,asceniceffectwiththeprosceniumarchoftheselovelyhillsasaframe.Butformeitlivesandbreathes,achunkoutofthebestofoldEngland....Quacey!”Thehunchbacksteppedtotheactor’sside.Lane’shandstrayedtotheancient’shump.“Gentlemen,thisisQuacey,myinseparablefamiliarand,Iassureyou,agenius.Hehasbeenmymake-upmanforfortyyears.”Quaceybobbedagainandinsomemannermysteriouslywarmthetwovisitorssensedthelinkofmellowkinshipbetweenthesecompletelyanti-typicalindividuals.SoBrunoandThummbegantospeakatonce,andLane’seyesflickeredfromthelipsofonetothelipsoftheother,andtheexpressionlesslinesofhisfacecurvedintothemerestsmile.“Separately,please.Iamquitedeaf,yousee.Icanreadonlyonepairoflipsatatime—alatter-dayaccomplishmentofwhichIamveryvain.”TheystammeredapologiesandwhiletheysettledthemselvesTheTragedyofX-8-双重密室intheirchairsLanepulledanother,surelythegreat-grandfatherofalloldchairs,frombeforethefireandsatdownfacingthem.InspectorThummnoticedthatLanehadsethischairsothatthefirelightfellonhisvisitors’faces,leavinghisownfeaturesinshadow.Quaceyhadeffacedhimself,outofthecornerofhiseyeThummbarelysawthathewascrouched,motionless,agnarledbrowngargoyle,inachairagainstthefarthestwall.Brunoclearedhisthroat.“InspectorThummandIbothfeel,Mr.Lane,thatwe’represumingabitincomingtoyouthisway.Ishouldneverhavesentmytelegram,ofcourse,ifyouhadn’tsolvedtheCramercaseforusinthatreallyastoundingletterofyours.”“Scarcelyastoundinginitsessence,Mr.Bruno.”Theslowresonantvoicecamefromthedepthsofthecoronalchair.“Myactionisnotentirelyunprecedented.YouwillrecalltheseriesoflettersEdgarAllanPoesenttotheNewYorknewspapersofferingasolutionoftheMaryRogersmurder.Thetruth,itseemedtomeonanalysisoftheCramercase,wasobscuredbythreefactswhichhadnothingatalltodowiththesolution.Unfortunately,yougentlemenwentoffonthesetangents.YouwishedtoconsultmeontheLongstreetmurder?”“Areyousure,Mr.Lane,thattheInspectorandI—Well,weknowhowbusyyouare.”“Ishallneverbetoobusytodabbleinthemostelementalformofdrama,Mr.Bruno.”Thevoicewascolorednowwiththefaintestanimation.“ItwasonlyaftermyforcedretirementfromthestagethatIbegantorealizehowtheatricallifeitselfcanbe.Theboardsarerestrictive,cramping.Thecreaturesofaplayare,inMercutio’sevaluationofdreams,ElleryQueen-9-螺旋楼梯e书架‘childrenofanidlebrainbegotofnothingbutvainfantasy.’”ThevisitorsstirredatthemagicthathadleapedintoLane’svoice.“Creaturesoflife,however,intheirmomentsofpassionpresentthelargeraspectsofdrama.Theycanneverbe‘asthinofsubstanceastheairandmoreinconstantthanthewind.’”“Isee,”saidtheDistrictAttorneyslowly.“Iseenow.Yes,it’squiteclearnow.”“Crime—thecrimeofviolenceinducedbymasteringemotion—isthehighestrefinementofthehumandrama.Murderisitsownpeculiarclimax.Allmylife,incompanywithmydistinguishedbrothersandsistersofthefraternity”—hesmiledsadly—“Modjeska,EdwinBooth,AdaRehan,andallthosegloriousothers—Ihavebeeninterpretingsyntheticemotionalclimaxes.NowIintendifIcantointerprettherealthing.IthinkIcanbringtothispursuitaratheruniqueequipment.Ihavemurderedonthestagecountlesstimes,emotionally.Ihavesufferedtheagonyofplotting,thetortureofconscience.Ihavebeen,amongothersperhapslessnoble,Macbeth,andIhavebeenHamlet.And,likeachildviewingasimplewonderforthefirsttime,IhavejustrealizedthattheworldisfullofMacbethsandHamlets.Trite,buttrue....“Fromobeyingthejerkofthemaster’sstrings,Inowhavetheimpulsetopullthestringsmyself,inagreaterauthorshipthancreateddrama.Everythingfitssonicely,evenmyunfortunateaffliction”—aleanfingertouchedhisear—“hascontrivedtosharpenmypowersofconcentration.IhaveonlytoclosemyeyesandIaminaworldwithoutsoundandthereforewithoutphysicaldisturbance....”InspectorThummlookedbewildered,heseemedimmersedinanemotionforeigntohispracticalnature.HeblinkedandTheTragedyofX-10-双重密室wonderedifthiswas—andscoffedinwardly—hero-worship.“YouseewhatImean,”thevoicedroveon.“Ihaveunderstanding.Ihavebackground.Ihaveinsight.Ihaveobservation.Ihaveconcentration.Ilayclaimtodeductiveanddetectivepowers.”Brunocoughed.Thosedisturbingeyesfastenedthemselvesonhislips.“I’mafraid,Mr.Lane,I’mafraidthatourlittleproblemisquitebeneaththe—well,thedignityofyourdetectiveambitions.It’sreallyjustaplaincaseofmurder....”“I’mdisposedtothinkthatIhaven’tmademyselfclear.”Thevoicewasbrimmingwithhumornow.“‘Aplaincaseofmurder,’Mr.Bruno?But—exactly!WhyshouldIrequireafantasticone?”“Well,”saidInspectorThummsuddenly,“plainorfancy,it’sapuzzler,andMr.Brunothoughtyou’dbeinterested.Didyoureadthenewspaperstoriesonthecase?”“Yes.Butthey’reconfusedandmeaningless.Iprefertoapproachtheproblemwithanunetchedperception.Pleasegivemeascrupulouslydetailedaccount,Inspector.Describethepeopleinvolved.Relatethesurroundingcircumstances,nomatterhowapparentlyirrelevantorinsignificant.Inaword,tellmeeverything.”BrunoandThummexchangedglances,BrunonoddedandInspectorThumm’suglyfacescreweditselfintoanarrativeexpression.Thevastwallsfadedaway.Thefire,asifoperatedbyacosmicrheostat,dimmed.AndTheHamlet,Mr.DruryLane,thetangofoldthingsandoldtimesandoldpeoplefusedandweresubmergedunderthegrufftonesoftheInspector.ElleryQueen-11-螺旋楼梯e书架Scene2ASUITEINTHEHOTELGRANTFRIDAY,SEPTEMBER4,3:30P.M.OnthepreviousFridayafternoon(ranthestoryfromthefactsrelatedbyInspectorThummandinterpolationsoccasionallycontributedbytheDistrictAttorney),twopeoplesatcloselyembracedinthesitting-roomofasuiteattheHotelGrant,steel-and-concretehostelryonthecornerofForty-SecondStreetandEighthAvenue,inNewYork.Theyweremanandwoman—theman,HarleyLongstreet,tall,middle-aged,ofpowerfulbodyravagedbyyearsofdissipation,unhealthilycrimsonface,dressedinroughtweeds,thewoman,TheTragedyofX-12-双重密室CherryBrowne,musicalcomedystar,abrunettewithLatinfeatures,blackflashingeyes,archedlips,awomanboldandpassionate.Longstreetkissedherwithwetlipsandshecuddledinhisarms.“Ihopetheynevercome.”“Soyouliketheoldboy’slovin’?”Themandisengagedhimselfandflexedhismuscleswiththeprideoftheathleticmalegonetoseed.“They’llcome,though—they’llbehere.WhenItellJohnnyDeWitttojump,believeme,sister—hejumps!”“Butwhydraghimherewiththatfrostybunchofhisiftheydon’twanttocome?”“BecauseIliketoseetheoldbuzzardsquirm.Hehatesmyguts,andIloveit.Tohellwithhim.”Hedumpedthewomanunceremoniouslyfromhislap,crossedtheroom,andpouredhimselfadrinkfromoneofanarrayofbottlesonasideboard.Thewomanwatchedhimwithfelinelaziness.“Sometimes,”shesaid,“Ican’tfigureyouout.Whatyougetoutoftormentinghimisbeyondme.”Sheshruggedherwhiteshoulders.“Well,that’syouraffair.Drinkhearty!”Longstreetgrunted,threwhisheadfarback,pouredthedrinkdownhisthroat.Forthefractionofaninstanthisheadremainedthatwaywhentheactresscontinuedinanindifferentvoice:“IsMrs.DeWittcoming,too?”Hetossedthewhiskyglasstothesideboard.“Whynot?Nowdon’tgoharpingonheragain,Cherry.I’vetoldyouahundredtimesthere’snothingbetweenusandthereneverwas.”“NotthatIcare.”Shelaughed.“Butitwouldbejustlikeyoutostealhiswife,too....Whoelseiscoming?”Hegrimaced.“Aprizebunch.God,howIlovetoseeDeWittElleryQueen-13-螺旋楼梯e书架pullthatlongpiousfaceofhis!There’shissidekickoutinWestEnglewood,thisfellowAhearn—regularoldwoman,alwayscomplainingabouthisbelly.Belly!”heregardedhisownslightpaunchinablearyway.“Thesestraight-livingpreachersalwaysseemtohavefloatingguts,noneofthatforLongie,darling!Thenthere’slittleJeanneDeWitt,andshehatesme,too,andherdaddy’llmakehercome,anditwillbeonesweetparty.EspeciallywhenherFrankMerriwellboyfriend,KitLord,showsup.”“Why,he’sanawfullyniceboy,Harl.”Longstreetglared.“Sure.Niceboy.He’saprig,that’swhatheis.Noseybusybody.Can’tstandthatmilk-facedkidaroundtheoffice.IshouldhavemadeDeWittkickhimoutthattime....Oh,well.”Hesighed.“Thenthere’sanother—he’llgiveyoualaugh.ASwisscheese-eater.”Helaughedunpleasantly.“LouisImperiale.I’vetoldyouabouthim.FriendofDeWitt’sintheStatesonbusiness....And,ofcourse,MikeCollins.”Cherryjumpedupatthesoundofabuzzerandhurriedtothedoor.“Pollux,old-timer!Comein!”Thearrival,aflashilydressed,oldishmanwithadarkface,carefullypomadedthinninghair,andasharplywaxedmustache,puthisarmsaroundthewoman.Longstreetstruggledtohisfeetandmadeathreateningnoiseinhisthroat.CherryBrowneblushed,pushedthenewcomeraway,andbegantofusswithherhair.“RemembermyoldpalPollux?”Hervoicewasgay.“Pollux,theGreatPollux,MasterMind-ReaderoftheAgeonthetwo-a-day.Shakehands,youtwo.”TheTragedyofX-14-双重密室Polluxlimplycompliedandmadeatonceforthesideboard.Longstreetshruggedandreturnedtohischair,butroseimmediatelyasthebuzzersoundedagainandCherryopenedthedoortoadmitasmallpartyofpeople.Alittleslendermiddle-agedmanwithgrayhairandabrush-graymustachecameinfirst,hesitantly.Longstreet’sfacebrightened,hestrodeforward,exudingcordiality.Heboomedgreetings,squeezedthelittleman’shand.JohnO.DeWittcoloredandhalf-closedhiseyeswithpainandnausea.Physicalopposites,theywereinstrikingcontrast:DeWittreserved,linedwithworry,andapparentlyinaconstantstateoffluctuatingdeterminationandapprehension,Longstreetheavy,assured,arrogant,masterful.DeWittshrankfromLongstreetasthebigmanbrushedbyhimtoreceivetheothermembersoftheparty.“Fern!Thisisanicesurprise.”—ThistoafadedstoutishwomanofSpanishtype,withthebaresttracesofavanishedbeautyonherlacqueredface,DeWitt’swife.JeanneDeWitt,apetitebrownishmaid,noddedcoldly,shepressedclosertoherescort,ChristopherLord,atallblondyoungman.LongstreetignoredhimcompletelyandpumpedthehandsofAhearnandImperiale,amiddle-agedLatinoflargephysiquemeticulouslydressed.“Mike!”Longstreetboundedforwardandclappedthebackofabroadmanwhohadjustslouchedthroughthedoor.MichaelCollinswasabrawnyIrishmanwithporcineeyesandanapparentlyfixedexpressionofhostility.Hegruntedagreetingandeyedtheothersdangerously.Longstreetgraspedhisarm,hiseyesglittered.“Nowdon’tcrabthisparty,Mike,”hewhisperedhoarsely.“ItoldyouI’dgetDeWitttofixthingsup.GooverElleryQueen-15-螺旋楼

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