她对他微笑，好像他不是认真的。“不，我没有。我确实安排了一些事情，但这件事破坏了我原有的安排。我也没有杀那个人，如果这是你想问的问题。”
She smiled at him as though he didn’t mean it. “No, I failed. I did plan something, but this has spoiled it. I didn’t murder that man, either, if that’s what you were going to ask.”
“我不是这个意思。” 他告诉她。“杰拉尔德?图伊兹是谁？”
“I wasn’t,” he told her. “Who was Gerald Tuesday?”
“只是个客人。” 她轻描淡写地说。“我在国外认识的人。共同的朋友写信告诉我他要来芝加哥，所以我当然邀请他来这儿住了。”
“Just a house guest,” she said lightly. “Someone I’d met abroad. Mutual friends wrote me he was ing to Chicago, and so of course I invited him to stay here.”
“好吧。” 马龙说。他又把雪茄拿出来，这次他彻底拆开了包装。“如果这是你的说法，我希望它能站得住脚。”
“All right,” Malone said. He took the cigar out again, this time he finished unwrapping it. “If that’s your story, I hope it’ll stand up.”
“它会的。” 她冷静地说。
“It will,” she said coolly.
他正要跟着她走进客厅，海伦从走廊走过来，一把抓住了他的胳膊。
He had started to follow her into the living room, when Helene came down the hall and clutched at his arm.
“马龙！” 这是一声低沉而急切的耳语。“这不是…… 或者…… 是么？”
“Malone!” It was a low, insistent whisper. “This isn’t—or is it?”
“别打哑谜，也别小声说话。你什么意思？”
“Don’t ask riddles and don’t hiss. What do you mean?”
“莫娜的谋杀案。”
“Mona’s murder.”
他看了她一会儿才回答。“你又忘了赌约里的条件了。这个人不是在公共街道上被杀的，也没有很多的目击者。他是被刺死的，就像另一个……”
He looked at her a moment before answering. “You’re forgetting the terms of the trade again. This man wasn’t shot down in the public streets, with plenty of witnesses. He was stabbed, just like the other—”
“像另一个什么？”
“Like the other what?”
“被…… 刺…… 死…… 的…… 人。” 他机械地说。他刚刚想起为什么那个数字，114，会让人觉得这么熟悉。
“Man—who—was—stabbed,” he said automatically. He had just remembered why that number, 114, was familiar.
“马龙……”
“Malone—”
“现在别管了。这房子里的电话是怎么用的？电话是什么样的系统？”
“Never mind now. How do the telephones work in this house? What kind of a system is it?”
“是分机电话系统。用任何一部电话都可以接听来电，或者你可以拿起任何一部电话拨打外线号码。一共有三条线路，以防其中一条被占线，而且每部电话都有一个小开关用来管线路。”
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