There was no doubt that he was a fine-looking man seen face to face. He was at least six feet in height, with broad shoulders and slender hips. He was dressed in very well-cut English tweeds, and might have been taken for an Englishman had it not been for the length of his moustache and something in the line of the cheekbone.
面对面地看过去，毫无疑问，他是个英俊的男人。至少有六英尺那么高，肩膀宽阔，腰身细窄，穿着裁剪得体的英国花呢西服，如果不考虑他胡须的长度和颧骨的线条，准会以为他是个英国人。
“Well, Messieurs,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“怎么，先生们，”他说，“我能帮什么忙吗？”
“You understand, Monsieur,” said Poirot, “that in view of what has occurred I am obliged to put certain questions to all the passengers.”
“我想您能理解，先生，”波洛说，“因为发生了这起案子，我有责任向所有的旅客问一些问题。”
Count and Countess Andrenyi were next summoned. The Count, however, entered the dining car alone.
下一个要问的是安德雷尼伯爵夫妇。然而来到餐车的只有伯爵一个人。
“Are you aware of the identity of the deceased, Monsieur?”
“您知道死者是谁吗，先生？”
“Perfectly, perfectly,” said the Count easily. “I quite understand your position. Not, I fear, that my wife and I can do much to assist you. We were asleep and heard nothing at all.”
“很好，很好，”伯爵快速说道，“我很理解你们的处境，但是恐怕我和我妻子帮不上什么忙。我们睡着了，什么也没听见。”
“I understand it was the big American — a man with a decidedly unpleasant face. He sat at the table at meal times.” He indicated with a nod of his head the table at which Ratchett and MacQueen had sat.
“我知道他是个高个子的美国人，长着一张让人很不舒服的脸，吃饭的时候坐在那张桌子上。”说着他点头示意雷切特和麦奎因坐的那张桌子。
“You knew, perhaps, the Armstrong family?”
“也许您认识阿姆斯特朗一家？”
“I was in Washington for a year.”
“我在华盛顿待过一年。”
“You retired to rest — when, Monsieur le Comte?”
“您是什么时候上床休息的，伯爵先生？”
“No.” The Count looked thoroughly puzzled by Poirot’s queries.
“不知道。”伯爵好像被波洛问得完全摸不着头脑。
“You have been there, perhaps, Monsieur le Comte?”
“您大概去过美国吧，伯爵先生？”
“Yes, yes, Monsieur, you are perfectly correct. I meant did you know the name of the man?”
“是的，是的，先生，您说得很对。我是说，您知道那个人的名字吗？”
“Armstrong — Armstrong — it is difficult to recall — one met so many.” He smiled, shrugged his shoulders. “But to come back to the matter in hand, gentlemen,” he said. “What more can I do to assist you?”
“阿姆斯特朗…阿姆斯特朗…很难记起来了…遇到不少同姓的呢。”他微微一笑，耸耸肩，“但是说到现在这个案子，先生，”他说，“我还能帮你做些什么？”
He watched the Count closely as he spoke, but the latter seemed quite unaffected by the piece of news. He merely opened his eyes a little.
说这话的时候他密切地注视着伯爵，可后者似乎并没有受到这条消息的影响，只是微微睁大了眼睛。
“The name on his passport is Ratchett,” said Poirot. “But that, Monsieur, is not his real name. He is the man Cassetti, who was responsible for a celebrated kidnapping outrage in America.”
“他护照上的名字是雷切特，”波洛说，“但是，先生，这不是他的真名。他叫卡塞蒂，那起美国有名的绑架案的主谋。”
“Ah!” he said. “That certainly should throw light upon the matter. An extraordinary country America.”
“啊！”他说，“那么这件事肯定真相大白了，美国真是个非同寻常的国家。”
“If you want to know his name,” he said, “surely it is on his passport?”
“要是你想知道他的名字，”他说，“护照上肯定有吧？”
“Thank you, Monsieur le Comte. It is a formality, but will you just let me have your name and address?”
“谢谢您，伯爵先生。这只是例行公事，您可否写下您的姓名和住址？”
“No. 13. We played picquet together. About eleven o’clock my wife retired for the night. The conductor made up my compartment and I also went to bed. I slept soundly until morning.”
“十三号。我们玩了皮克牌。大约十一点钟，我妻子去休息了。列车员给我铺好床，我也睡了，一觉睡到第二天早上。”
“Did you notice the stopping of the train?”
“您有没有注意到火车停了下来？”
“And your wife?”
“您夫人呢？”
“We had one compartment made up for the night whilst we were in the dining car. On returning we sat in the other for a while –“
“我们在餐车的时候，一间房已经铺好了，回去之后我们在另外一间房里坐了一会儿——”
Hercule Poirot’s eyes stole to his plan. Count and Countess Andrenyi occupied compartments No. 12 and 13 adjoining.
赫尔克里·波洛偷偷看了一眼平面图，安德雷尼伯爵夫妇在相连的十二号和十三号房。
He paused. “I am sorry I am not able to assist you in any way.”
他顿了顿。“很抱歉，我帮不了你们了。”
“I was not aware of it till this morning.”
“今天早上我才注意到。”
“It is just as well I should write this for you,” he said pleasantly. “The spelling of my country estate is a little difficult for those unacquainted with the language.”
“还好是我写给你们，”他愉快地说，“不熟悉这种语言的人，很难拼写出我庄园的名字。”
Poirot passed him a sheet of paper and a pen.
波洛递给他一张纸和一支钢笔。
The Count smiled. “My wife always takes a sleeping draught when travelling by train. She took her usual dose of trional.”
伯爵笑了。“坐火车旅行时，我妻子都会服用安眠药。她和平时一样服了台俄那。”
“What number would that be?”
“哪一间？”
The Count wrote slowly and carefully.
伯爵缓慢而仔细地写着。
Poirot blinked gently at him.
波洛和善地向他眨眨眼。
The Count gave way grudgingly. He made a short, foreign bow and left the dining car.
伯爵不情愿地让步了，简单地行了个外国礼，就离开了餐车。
“It will be quite unnecessary for my wife to come here,” he said. “She can tell you nothing more than I have.”
“我妻子完全没有必要来这儿了，”他说，“她知道的还不如我多。”
“Doubtless, doubtless,” he said. “But all the same I think I should like to have just one little word with Madame la Comtesse.”
“自然，自然，”他说，“但是我想还是应该跟伯爵夫人稍微谈一两句。”
“I assure you it is quite unnecessary.” His voice rang out authoritatively.
“绝对没有这个必要。”伯爵的声音里透出一股威严。
“It will be a mere formality,” he said. “But you understand, it is necessary for my report.”
“只是例行公事，”他说，“可是您知道，这对我的报告很有必要。”
He passed the paper across to Poirot and rose.
他把纸还给波洛，站起身来。
“As you please.”
“请便吧。”
“A diplomatic passport,” said M. Bouc. “We must be careful, my friend, to give no offence. These people can have nothing to do with the murder.”
“外交护照，”布克先生说，“我们得小心，我的朋友，别惹事。这种人跟谋杀可不会有什么关系。”
A little gleam came into Poirot’s eye.
波洛的眼睛微微一亮。
Poirot reached out a hand to a passport. It set out the Count’s name and titles. He passed on to the further information — accompanied by wife. Christian name Elena Maria; maiden name Goldenberg; age twenty. A spot of grease had been dropped some time by a careless official on it.
波洛伸手拿过一份护照，上面记着伯爵的姓名和头衔。他往下翻看着。“陪同人员：妻子；教名：埃伦娜·玛丽亚；娘家姓：戈尔登贝格；年龄：二十。”上面还有一滴粗心的办事员不知何时掉上的油渍。
“Quite correct, Monsieur.”
“非常正确，先生。”
“Be easy, mon vieux, I will be most tactful. A mere formality.”
“放心吧，我的朋友，我很老练的。只是例行公事。”
“A mere formality, Madame la Comtesse.” Poirot rose gallantly, bowed her into the seat opposite him. “It is only to ask you if you saw or heard anything last night that may throw light upon this matter.”
“只是例行公事，伯爵夫人。”波洛殷勤地站起来，恭敬地把她迎到自己对面的座位上，“只是问您昨晚是否看到或者听到什么，也许对弄清这个案子有帮助。”
“I heard nothing, Monsieur. You see, I had taken a sleeping draught.”
“我什么都没听见，先生。你知道的，我吃了安眠药。”
She signed quickly, a graceful slanting handwriting. Elena Andrenyi.
她匆忙地签了，写得一手秀丽的斜体字：埃伦娜·玛丽亚。
“You wish to see me, Messieurs?”
“你们想见我，先生们？”
“Nothing at all, Monsieur. I was asleep.”
“什么也没有，先生，我睡着了。”
His voice dropped as the Countess Andrenyi entered the dining car. She looked timid and extremely charming.
看到安德雷尼伯爵夫人走进餐车，他压低了嗓门。她看起来十分娇羞，楚楚动人。
“Perhaps you will sign this memorandum to that effect, then.”
“也许您可以在这份备忘录上签个字？”
“Ah! I comprehend. Well, I need not detain you further.” Then, as she rose swiftly, “Just one little minute — these particulars, your maiden name, age and so on, they are correct?”
“啊！我明白。好吧，我们就不挽留您了。”然而，等她迅速站起身后，波洛又说，“请稍等。这些资料——您娘家的姓氏、您的年龄等——没错吧？”
“You did not hear, for instance, a commotion going on in the compartment next to yours? The American lady who occupies it had quite an attack of hysterics and rang for the conductor.”
“比如，您没听见您隔壁房间的骚动声吗？住在那边的美国太太非常慌乱，还按了电铃叫列车员。”
She stared at him as she stood poised for departure.
她正要走，听见此话，停住脚步，看着波洛。
“Ah yes, thank you, Madame. By the way, does your husband smoke?”
“啊，好的，谢谢您，夫人。顺便问一句，您丈夫抽烟吗？”
She stared at him. Then she laughed. “It is corn-coloured chiffon. Is that really important?”
她盯着他，然后笑了。“是玉米色的雪纺绸。那很重要吗？”
“At your service, Madame.”
“静候差遣，夫人。”
“No. Cigarettes and cigars.”
“不，他抽香烟和雪茄。”
“Madame,” Poirot waved an airy hand, “detectives have to ask all sorts of questions. For instance, perhaps you will tell me the colour of your dressing gown?”
“夫人，”波洛轻快地挥了挥手，“侦探会问各种各样的问题，例如，也许您能告诉我您睡衣的颜色？”
“Did you accompany your husband to America, Madame?”
“您陪您丈夫去过美国吗，夫人？”
She lingered; her eyes watched him curiously. Lovely eyes they were, dark and almond shaped, with very long black lashes that swept the exquisite pallor of her cheeks. Her lips, very scarlet, in the foreign fashion, were parted just a little. She looked exotic and beautiful.
她站住脚，好奇地看着他。她的眼睛很可爱，乌黑的杏仁眼，长长的黑睫毛衬托着精致白皙的脸庞。她的嘴唇涂成了外国流行的鲜红色，微微张着。整个人看上去很美，极富异国情调。
“Yes.”
“是的。”
“No, Monsieur.” She smiled, flushed a little. “We were not married then; we have only been married a year.”
“没有，先生，”她笑了笑，有点脸红，“那时我们还没结婚，我们结婚才一年。”
“Why did you ask me that?”
“你为什么问我这个呢？”
“Very important, Madame.”
“非常重要，夫人。”
She asked curiously: “Are you really a detective, then?”
她好奇地问道：“这么说，你真的是个侦探吗？”
“A pipe?”
“抽烟斗吗？”
“Ah! Thank you.”
“啊！谢谢您。”
“You belong to the League of Nations?”
“你属于国际联盟吗？”
Poirot bowed once more.
波洛又鞠了一躬。
“We will not detain you further, Madame. You see, it was not so very terrible.”
“我们不打扰您了，夫人。您瞧，没那么可怕。”
“I speak a leetle, yes.” Her accent was charming.
“嗯，会说一点点儿。”她连口音都那么有魅力。
“I am not a Yugo-Slavian detective, Madame. I am an international detective.”
“我不是南斯拉夫侦探，夫人，我是国际侦探。”
“Shall we now see the Italian?”
“现在我们要找那个意大利人谈谈吗？”
“Elle est jolie femme,” said M. Bouc appreciatively. He sighed. “Well, that did not advance us much.”
“真是个美丽的女人。”布克先生欣赏地说，然后叹口气，“唉，没什么进展。”
“I thought there were no detectives on the train when it passed through Yugo-Slavia — not until one got to Italy.”
“我以为过了南斯拉夫，火车上就没有侦探了——到了意大利才会来。”
She smiled, inclined her head and departed.
她笑了笑，歪了歪头，就走了。
“I belong to the world, Madame,” said Poirot dramatically. He went on, “I work mainly in London. You speak English?” he added in that language.
“我属于全世界，夫人，”波洛戏剧性地说，“我主要是在伦敦工作。您会说英语吗？”他用英语问的最后一句话。
“No,” said Poirot. “Two people who saw nothing and heard nothing.”
“可不，”波洛说，“什么都没看见、没听见的两个人。”
Poirot did not reply for a moment. He was studying a grease spot on a Hungarian diplomatic passport.
波洛没有马上回答。他正在研究匈牙利人外交护照上的那片油渍。
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