伯特伦旅馆之谜10
时间：2026-01-04 07:38:39
（单词翻译:单击）
Chapter Six
I
“Elvira.”
“Hallo, Bridget.”
The Hon. Elvira Blake pushed her way through the front door of 180
Onslow Square, which her friend Bridget had rushed down to open for
her, having been watching through the window.
“Let’s go upstairs,” said Elvira.
“Yes, we’d better. Otherwise we’ll get entangled by Mummy.”
The two girls rushed up the stairs, thereby circumventing Bridget’s
mother, who came out onto the landing from her own bedroom just too
late.
“You really are lucky not to have a mother,” said Bridget, rather breath-
lessly as she took her friend into her bedroom and shut the door firmly. “I
mean, Mummy’s quite a pet and all that, but the questions she asks! Morn-
ing, noon and night. Where are you going, and who have you met? And
are they cousins of somebody else of the same name in Yorkshire? I mean,
the futility of it all.”
“I suppose they have nothing else to think about,” said Elvira vaguely.
“Look here, Bridget, there’s something terribly important I’ve got to do,
and you’ve got to help me.”
“Well, I will if I can. What is it—a man?”
“No, it isn’t, as a matter of fact.” Bridget looked disappointed. “I’ve got to
get away to Ireland for twenty-four hours or perhaps longer, and you’ve
got to cover up for me.”
“To Ireland? Why?”
“I can’t tell you all about it now. There’s no time. I’ve got to meet my
guardian, Colonel Luscombe, at Prunier’s for lunch at half past one.”
“What have you done with the Carpenter?”
“Gave her the slip in Debenham’s.”
Bridget giggled.
“And after lunch they’re taking me down to the Melfords. I’m going to
live with them until I’m twenty-one.”
“How ghastly!”
“I expect I shall manage. Cousin Mildred is fearfully easy to deceive. It’s
arranged I’m to come up for classes and things. There’s a place called
World of Today. They take you to lectures and to Museums and to Picture
Galleries and the House of Lords, and all that. The whole point is that
nobody will know whether you’re where you ought to be or not! We’ll
manage lots of things.”
“I expect we will.” Bridget giggled. “We managed in Italy, didn’t we? Old
Macaroni thought she was so strict. Little did she know what we got up to
when we tried.”
Both girls laughed in the pleasant consciousness of successful wicked-
ness.
“Still, it did need a lot of planning,” said Elvira.
“And some splendid lying,” said Bridget. “Have you heard from Guido?”
“Oh yes, he wrote me a long letter signed Ginevra as though he was a
girlfriend. But I do wish you’d stop talking so much, Bridget. We’ve got a
lot to do and only about an hour and a half to do it in. Now first of all just
listen. I’m coming up tomorrow for an appointment with the dentist.
That’s easy, I can put it off by telephone—or you can from here. Then,
about midday, you can ring up the Melfords pretending to be your mother
and explain that the dentist wants to see me again the next day and so I’m
staying over with you here.”
“That ought to go down all right. They’ll say how very kind and gush.
But supposing you’re not back the next day?”
“Then you’ll have to do some more ringing up.”
Bridget looked doubtful.
“We’ll have lots of time to think up something before then,” said Elvira
impatiently. “What’s worrying me now is money. You haven’t got any, I
suppose?” Elvira spoke without much hope.
“Only about two pounds.”
“That’s no good. I’ve got to buy my air ticket. I’ve looked up the flights. It
only takes about two hours. A lot depends upon how long it takes me
when I get there.”
“Can’t you tell me what you’re going to do?”
“No, I can’t. But it’s terribly, terribly important.”
Elvira’s voice was so different that Bridget looked at her in some sur-
prise.
“Is anything really the matter, Elvira?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is it something nobody’s got to know about?”
“Yes, that’s the sort of thing. It’s frightfully, frightfully secret. I’ve got to
find out if something is really true or not. It’s a bore about the money.
What’s maddening is that I’m really quite rich. My guardian told me so.
But all they give me is a measly dress allowance. And that seems to go as
soon as I get it.”
“Wouldn’t your guardian — Colonel Thingummybob — lend you some
money?”
“That wouldn’t do at all. He’d ask a lot of questions and want to know
what I wanted it for.”
“Oh, dear, I suppose he would. I can’t think why everybody wants to ask
so many questions. Do you know that if somebody rings me up, Mummy
has to ask who it is? When it really is no business of hers!”
Elvira agreed, but her mind was on another tack.
“Have you ever pawned anything, Bridget?”
“Never. I don’t think I’d know how to.”
“It’s quite easy, I believe,” said Elvira. “You go to the sort of jeweller who
has three balls over the door, isn’t that right?”
“I don’t think I’ve got anything that would be any good taking to a pawn-
broker,” said Bridget.
“Hasn’t your mother got some jewellery somewhere?”
“I don’t think we’d better ask her to help.”
“No, perhaps not—But we could pinch something perhaps.”
“Oh, I don’t think we could do that,” said Bridget, shocked.
“No? Well, perhaps you’re right. But I bet she wouldn’t notice. We could
get it back before she missed it. I know. We’ll go to Mr. Bollard.”
“Who’s Mr. Bollard?”
“Oh, he’s a sort of family jeweller. I take my watch there always to have
it mended. He’s known me ever since I was six. Come on, Bridget, we’ll go
there right away. We’ll just have time.”
“We’d better go out the back way,” said Bridget, “and then Mummy
won’t ask us where we’re going.”
Outside the old established business of Bollard and Whitley in Bond
Street the two girls made their final arrangements.
“Are you sure you understand, Bridget?”
“I think so,” said Bridget in a far from happy voice.
“First,” said Elvira, “we synchronize our watches.”
Bridget brightened up a little. This familiar literary phrase had a heart-
ening effect. They solemnly synchronized their watches, Bridget adjusting
hers by one minute.
“Zero hour will be twenty-five past exactly,” said Elvira.
“That will give me plenty of time. Perhaps even more than I need, but
it’s better that way about.”
“But supposing—” began Bridget.
“Supposing what?” asked Elvira.
“Well, I mean, supposing I really got run over?”
“Of course you won’t get run over,” said Elvira. “You know how nippy
you are on your feet, and all London traffic is used to pulling up suddenly.
It’ll be all right.”
Bridget looked far from convinced.
“You won’t let me down, Bridget, will you?”
“All right,” said Bridget, “I won’t let you down.”
“Good,” said Elvira.
Bridget crossed to the other side of Bond Street and Elvira pushed open
the doors of Messrs. Bollard and Whitley, old established jewellers and
watchmakers. Inside there was a beautiful and hushed atmosphere. A
frock-coated nobleman came forward and asked Elvira what he could do
for her.
“Could I see Mr. Bollard?”
“Mr. Bollard. What name shall I say?”
“Miss Elvira Blake.”
The nobleman disappeared and Elvira drifted to a counter where, below
plate glass, brooches, rings and bracelets showed off their jewelled pro-
portions against suitable shades of velvet. In a very few moments Mr. Bol-
lard made his appearance. He was the senior partner of the firm, an eld-
erly man of sixty odd. He greeted Elvira with warm friendliness.
“Ah, Miss Blake, so you are in London. It’s a great pleasure to see you.
Now what can I do for you?”
Elvira produced a dainty little evening wristwatch.
“This watch doesn’t go properly,” said Elvira. “Could you do something
to it?”
“Oh yes, of course. There’s no difficulty about that.” Mr. Bollard took it
from her. “What address shall I send it to?”
Elvira gave the address.
“And there’s another thing,” she said. “My guardian—Colonel Luscombe
you know—”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“He asked me what I’d like for a Christmas present,” said Elvira. “He
suggested I should come in here and look at some different things. He said
would I like him to come with me, and I said I’d rather come along first—
because I always think it’s rather embarrassing, don’t you? I mean, prices
and all that.”
“Well, that’s certainly one aspect,” said Mr. Bollard, beaming in an avun-
cular manner. “Now what had you in mind, Miss Blake? A brooch, bracelet
—a ring?”
“I think really brooches are more useful,” said Elvira. “But I wonder—
could I look at a lot of things?” She looked up at him appealingly. He
smiled sympathetically.
“Of course, of course. No pleasure at all if one has to make up one’s
mind too quickly, is it?”
The next five minutes were spent very agreeably. Nothing was too much
trouble for Mr. Bollard. He fetched things from one case and another,
brooches and bracelets piled up on the piece of velvet spread in front of
Elvira. Occasionally she turned aside to look at herself in a mirror, trying
the effect of a brooch or a pendant. Finally, rather uncertainly, a pretty
little bangle, a small diamond wristwatch and two brooches were laid
aside.
“We’ll make a note of these,” said Mr. Bollard, “and then when Colonel
Luscombe is in London next, perhaps he’ll come in and see what he de-
cides himself he’d like to give you.”
“I think that way will be very nice,” said Elvira. “Then he’ll feel more
that he’s chosen my present himself, won’t he?” Her limpid blue gaze was
raised to the jeweller’s face. That same blue gaze had registered a moment
earlier that the time was now exactly twenty-five minutes past the hour.
Outside there was the squealing of brakes and a girl’s loud scream. Inev-
itably the eyes of everyone in the shop turned towards the windows of the
shop giving on Bond Street. The movement of Elvira’s hand on the counter
in front of her and then to the pocket of her neat tailor-made coat and
skirt was so rapid and unobtrusive as to be almost unnoticeable, even if
anybody had been looking.
“Tcha, tcha,” said Mr. Bollard, turning back from where he had been
peering out into the street. “Very nearly an accident. Silly girl! Rushing
across the road like that.”
Elvira was already moving towards the door. She looked at her wrist-
watch and uttered an exclamation.
“Oh dear, I’ve been far too long in here. I shall miss my train back to the
country. Thank you so much, Mr. Bollard, and you won’t forget which the
four things are, will you?”
In another minute, she was out of the door. Turning rapidly to the left
and then to the left again, she stopped in the arcade of a shoe shop until
Bridget, rather breathless, rejoined her.
“Oh,” said Bridget, “I was terrified. I thought I was going to be killed.
And I’ve torn a hole in my stocking, too.”
“Never mind,” said Elvira and walked her friend rapidly along the street
and round yet another corner to the right. “Come on.”
“Is it—was it—all right?”
Elvira’s hand slipped into her pocket and out again showing the dia-
mond and sapphire bracelet in her palm.
“Oh, Elvira, how you dared!”
“Now, Bridget, you’ve got to get along to that pawnshop we marked
down. Go in and see how much you can get for this. Ask for a hundred.”
“Do you think—supposing they say—I mean—I mean, it might be on a
list of stolen things—”
“Don’t be silly. How could it be on a list so soon? They haven’t even no-
ticed it’s gone yet.”
“But Elvira, when they do notice it’s gone, they’ll think—perhaps they’ll
know—that you must have taken it.”
“They might think so—if they discover it soon.”
“Well, then they’ll go to the police and—”
She stopped as Elvira shook her head slowly, her pale yellow hair
swinging to and fro and a faint enigmatic smile curving up the corners of
her mouth.
“They won’t go to the police, Bridget. Certainly not if they think I took
it.”
“Why—you mean—?”
“As I told you, I’m going to have a lot of money when I’m twenty-one. I
shall be able to buy lots of jewels from them. They won’t make a scandal.
Go on and get the money quick. Then go to Aer Lingus and book the ticket
—I must take a taxi to Prunier’s. I’m already ten minutes late. I’ll be with
you tomorrow morning by half past ten.”
“Oh, Elvira, I wish you wouldn’t take such frightful risks,” moaned Brid-
get.
But Elvira had hailed a taxi.
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