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II
Dr. Armstrong came out of the dining room and once more came out on the terrace.
The judge was sitting in a chair now, gazing placidly out to sea.
Lombard and Blore were over to the left, smoking but not talking.
As before, the doctor hesitated for a moment. His eye rested speculatively on Mr. Justice
Wargrave. He wanted to consult with someone. He was conscious of the judge’s acute logical
brain. But nevertheless, he wavered. Mr. Justice Wargrave might have a good brain but he was
an elderly man. At this juncture, Armstrong felt what was needed was a man of action.
He made up his mind.
“Lombard, can I speak to you for a minute?”
Philip started.
“Of course.”
The two men left the terrace. They strolled down the slope towards the water. When they
were out of earshot Armstrong said:
“I want a consultation.”
Lombard’s eyebrows went up. He said:
“My dear fellow, I’ve no medical knowledge.”
“No, no, I mean as to the general situation.”
“Oh, that’s different.”
Armstrong said:
“Frankly, what do you think of the position?”
Lombard reflected a minute. Then he said:
“It’s rather suggestive, isn’t it?”
“What are your ideas on the subject of that woman? Do you accept Blore’s theory?”
Philip puffed smoke into the air. He said:
“It’s perfectly feasible—taken alone.”
“Exactly.”
Armstrong’s tone sounded relieved. Philip Lombard was no fool.
The latter went on:
“That is, accepting the premise that Mr. and Mrs. Rogers have successfully got away with
murder in their time. And I don’t see why they shouldn’t. What do you think they did exactly?
Poisoned the old lady?”
Armstrong said slowly:
“It might be simpler than that. I asked Rogers this morning what this Miss Brady had
suffered from. His answer was enlightening. I don’t need to go into medical details, but in a
certain form of cardiac trouble, amyl nitrite is used. When an attack comes on an ampoule of
amyl nitrite is broken and it is inhaled. If amyl nitrite were withheld—well, the consequences
might easily be fatal.”
Philip Lombard said thoughtfully:
“As simple as that. It must have been—rather tempting.”
The doctor nodded.
“Yes, no positive action. No arsenic to obtain and administer—nothing definite—just—
negation! And Rogers hurried through the night to fetch a doctor and they both felt confident
that no one could ever know.”
“And even if any one knew, nothing could ever be proved against them,” added Philip
Lombard.
He frowned suddenly.
“Of course—that explains a good deal.”
Armstrong said, puzzled:
“I beg your pardon.”
Lombard said:
“I mean—it explains Soldier Island. There are crimes that cannot be brought home to their
perpetrators. Instance the Rogerses’. Another instance, old Wargrave, who committed his
murder strictly within the law.”
Armstrong said sharply: “You believe that story?”
Philip Lombard smiled.
“Oh, yes, I believe it. Wargrave murdered Edward Seton all right, murdered him as surely
as if he’d stuck a stiletto through him! But he was clever enough to do it from the judge’s seat
in wig and gown. So in the ordinary way you can’t bring his little crime home to him.”
A sudden flash passed like lightning through Armstrong’s mind.
“Murder in Hospital. Murder on the Operating table. Safe—yes, safe as houses!”
Philip Lombard was saying:
“Hence—Mr. Owen—hence—Soldier Island!”
Armstrong drew a deep breath.
“Now we’re getting down to it. What’s the real purpose of getting us all here?”
Philip Lombard said:
“What do you think?”
Armstrong said abruptly:
“Let’s go back a minute to this woman’s death. What are the possible theories? Rogers
killed her because he was afraid she would give the show away. Second possibility: she lost her
nerve and took an easy way out herself.”
Philip Lombard said:
“Suicide, eh?”
“What do you say to that?”
Lombard said:
“It could have been—yes—if it hadn’t been for Marston’s death. Two suicides within
twelve hours is a little too much to swallow! And if you tell me that Anthony Marston, a young
bull with no nerves and precious little brains, got the wind up over having mowed down a
couple of kids and deliberately put himself out of the way—well, the idea’s laughable! And
anyway, how did he get hold of the stuff? From all I’ve ever heard, potassium cyanide isn’t the
kind of stuff you take about with you in your waistcoat pocket. But that’s your line of country.”
Armstrong said:
“Nobody in their senses carries potassium cyanide. It might be done by someone who was
going to take a wasps’ nest.”
“The ardent gardener or landowner, in fact? Again, not Anthony Marston. It strikes me that
that cyanide is going to need a bit of explaining. Either Anthony Marston meant to do away
with himself before he came here, and therefore came prepared—or else—.”
Armstrong prompted him.
“Or else?”
Philip Lombard grinned.
“Why make me say it? When it’s on the tip of your own tongue. Anthony Marston was
murdered, of course.”
2
阿姆斯特朗医生从餐厅出来，走回露台。
瓦格雷夫法官坐在一把椅子里，安逸地眺望着大海。隆巴德和布洛尔在左边抽烟，默
不作声。
阿姆斯特朗迟疑了一会儿，目光落在瓦格雷夫法官身上。他心里的疑团需要找个人帮
忙一起解开。法官的思维能力他是知道的，既逻辑清晰又反应迅速。但他还是犹豫要不要
找瓦格雷夫搭话，毕竟他年事已高，而眼下，阿姆斯特朗需要的帮手应该是雷厉风行的年
轻人。
他有了人选。
“隆巴德，借一步说话？”
隆巴德大吃一惊。
“好吧。”
于是，两人一起离开露台。他们走下斜坡，朝海边走去。走到没人能听到他们俩说话
的地方，阿姆斯特朗开口道：
“我们应该做一下会诊。”
隆巴德皱着眉头说：
“朋友，我可不懂医术。”
“不，不，我是说把岛上的情况汇总分析一下。”
“啊，那倒是可以。”
阿姆斯特朗医生说：
“坦白说，你怎么看眼下的状况？”
隆巴德想了想才说：
“你话中另有玄机吧？”
“关于那个女人的事，你怎么看？你同意布洛尔的说法吗？”
菲利普抬头吐了口烟，说：
“她的事嘛，我觉得说得没错。”
“这样啊。”
阿姆斯特朗似乎松了一口气。-·隆巴德可不傻。
隆巴德继续说：
“假设罗杰斯夫妇很顺利地把布雷迪小姐谋杀了，其实，我觉得这本来也不是什么难办
的事。你说说，你觉得他们具体是怎么下手的呢？是给那位老太太下了毒吗？”
阿姆斯特朗医生慢悠悠地说：
“也许比下毒还容易。今天早晨我问罗杰斯，问他知不知道那位布雷迪小姐得的是什么
病。从他的话里听得出来，她得的并不是什么疑难杂症，是比较常见的心脏病，需要常备
亚硝酸异戊酯，犯病的时候，就吸一支。假如她犯病的时候不及时用药，就可以轻轻松松
地送她上天堂了。”
菲利普·隆巴德若有所思，说：
“原来就是这样简单，难怪他们动了邪念。”
阿姆斯特朗医生点了点头。
“是啊，他们不用主动去犯罪，也不用准备砒霜之类的毒药，什么都不用，只需要袖手
旁观，就可以把她置于死地！而且罗杰斯当晚还连夜去请医生，他们相信这么做就不会惹
人怀疑。”
“而且就算有人知道真相，也不能拿他们怎么样。”菲利普·隆巴德补充说。
他忽然皱起眉头。
“这么说来，情况就很清楚了。”
阿姆斯特朗没听懂这句话，问：
“你说什么？”
隆巴德说：
“我的意思是，终于搞清楚这些人来到士兵岛的原因。有些犯罪行为处于法律的灰色地
带，罗杰斯夫妇就是一个例子。还有瓦格雷夫法官，他就是利用职权，在法律的框架内杀
人。”
阿姆斯特朗急忙说：
“你相信他的事？”
菲利普·隆巴德笑了起来：
“没错，我相信。瓦格雷夫杀了爱德华·塞顿，毫无疑问，就像他用刀血淋淋地捅了塞
顿一样。但是他聪明狡猾，身披法袍，手持法典，端坐在法庭之上，正是所谓的杀人不见
血！因此，如果按照正常法律程序，能够给他定罪吗？”
突然，一个念头像闪电一样在阿姆斯特朗脑海里划过：
“在手术台上杀人，无异于借刀杀人。安全保险。没错，像在自己家里睡觉一样安
全！”
菲利普·隆巴德继续说着：
“所以说，那个所谓的欧文先生——这座士兵岛！”
阿姆斯特朗深吸一口气。
“好吧，我们干脆现在把所有事都想通。把大家都骗到岛上的人，究竟打算做什么？”
菲利普·隆巴德说：
“你认为呢？”
阿姆斯特朗立刻说：
“我们不如将谈话拉回到那个女人身上。她为什么会死？有几种可能？是罗杰斯怕她露
馅而杀了她？还是别有原因：她神志不清，自寻短见？”
菲利普·隆巴德说：
“自杀，嗯？”
“你觉得呢？”
隆巴德说：
“是有这种可能——对，如果在这之前马斯顿没有死的话，我们可以这样认为。不过，
在不到十二个小时内有两个人相继自杀，实在让人难以接受。况且，如果你告诉我，说有
个名叫安东尼·马斯顿的小伙子年轻富有，不知天高地厚，整天无忧无虑，仅仅因为开车撞
死了两个孩子，就内疚地自杀抵命……这解释不通！听起来就滑稽！就算他真的是自杀，
那么毒药又是从哪儿弄来的呢？据我所知，不会有人在旅行时把氰化钾随便塞进行李，这
一点你比我更明白。”
阿姆斯特朗说：
“头脑正常的人怎么可能随身带着氰化钾？除非是打算用来清除花园里的马蜂窝。”
“那就是说，园丁或者花园的主人有可能随身带着氰化钾？安东尼·马斯顿显然不是这
种人。我死活也想不通氰化物这个问题。所以说，若不是安东尼·马斯顿有备而来，打算在
这里自杀，那就是——”
阿姆斯特朗追问道：
“要不就是？”
隆巴德咧开嘴一乐：
“你为什么非等我把话说出口？后半句话不就在你自己嘴边了吗？安东尼·马斯顿显然
是被人谋杀了。”
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