Cue For Murder полностью

“None of us can afford to break a contract with a producer as influential as Milhau, but—” A cold light shone in Hutchins eyes. “He has nobody under contract to play Vladimir, and he’ll have a hard time getting anybody. He’d never use a dummy. Not realistic enough. Vladimir may put a stop to the whole thing. I hope it does.”

“Mr. Hutchins,” said Basil. “You’ve known most of these people for some years. You may be able to tell us more about them than anyone else. Just what is your opinion of Derek Adeane?”

“‘A louse in the locks of literature,’” returned Hutchins promptly. “An intellectual parasite. Whenever a play is a hit he immediately writes one as near like it as possible. He calls it ‘following a trend’; I call it plagiarism. He did have a play produced once—a faint carbon copy of Our Town called Your City. It ran exactly four nights. Now he’s going in for the hard-boiled cult—a round denial of human virtues and an unctuous sympathy for human vices. As soon as another point of view becomes fashionable he’ll adopt that with equal enthusiasm. Some men have great talent and no ambition; Adeane has colossal ambition and no talent. There are a good many like him, and some more successful than he. To them the arts are simply an easy way of earning a living. Easy because they never go through the agonies of creation that afflict a real artist.”

“Is Adeane monstrously stupid?” asked Basil. “Or simply insensitive?”

“He’s not stupid in the ordinary sense of the word. I should say he had intelligence but no intellect, cunning but no wisdom. And, of course, he has none of the sympathetic qualities—no charms or graces. That’s the real reason he hasn’t been more successful. He has never learned to conceal his egoism as most of us do, so he is heartily disliked.”

“Would he lie if he thought the lie would help him to get a play produced?”

“I should imagine he would.”

“And what is your opinion of the three under suspicion—Wanda Morley, Rodney Tait, and Leonard Martin?”

“Leonard is a sterling actor of the old school who can play any part. Wanda and Rod are products of the modern type-casting idea—artless naturalism reduced to an absurdity; you have a part for a handsome young man, so you get a handsome young man to play it. Disgusting! I can remember the days when an ugly old man could act the part of a handsome young man with far more dash and conviction than any of these toothpaste-ad boys who walk through their parts being themselves. There was Gregory Lawrence—ugly as sin off stage—who used to get torrents of fan mail and even presents of gold cigarette cases and jeweled cuff links from matinée girls because he could re-create the spirit of a handsome young man on stage. That’s art—the sort of thing Rod does isn’t even artifice!”

Basil smiled at the way Hutchins had answered his question by describing the acting ability of the three suspects instead of their moral or emotional attributes. If Hutchins were called as a character witness he would probably devote his testimony entirely to saying whether or not the accused was a true artist or a product of type casting. It would not be surprising to hear Hutchins say that an actor who would “walk through” his part was capable of homicide, arson, sabotage and any other crime in the calendar.

“One more thing.” Basil was watching Hutchins’ face closely. “Does the word ‘canary’ suggest anything to you in connection with any of these three people—Wanda, Leonard, or Rodney?”

“No.”

Hutchins looked so puzzled that Basil explained. “We have reason to believe that the murderer sharpened the knife he used in Lazarus’ workshop. Before leaving he released a pet canary from its cage. It seems a wanton, capricious thing to do, but there must have been some reason for it. Think over the past lives of these people and see if you can suggest any reason for it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” answered Hutchins, after a moment. “You think it might be a symbol or signal of some kind?”

“Frankly, I don’t know. Of course, all criminals are neurotic. Indeed, crime in most cases is really an exaggerated form of compulsion neurosis. That’s why criminals, like neurotics, delight in symbolism and fetichism. I could cite you hundreds of cases—burglars who always leave a colored napkin at the scene of a crime and so on.”

“But what would a canary symbolize?” Hutchins’ lively intellectual curiosity was aroused. “Maybe the dictionary will help!” He went to his bookcase and took out the first volume of a large dictionary. “Let me see—” He looked like an elderly scholar as his hoary head bent over the huge book on his knees. He began reading aloud; abbreviations and all:

Ca-na-ry, a. Of or pertaining to the color of a canary; of a bright yellow color.

Ca-na-ry, n; pl. ca-na-ries. (Sp., canario, a bird, a dance; from L. Canaria insula, canary island, so-called from its large dogs; L. canis, a dog.)

1. Wine made in the Canary Islands.

2. An old dance. (Obs.)

3. The canary bird or its characteristic color.