马龙探案卷四 之 正确的凶案 三十二
芝加哥最受欢迎的景点，湖滨大道上的老麦克莱恩大厦灯火辉煌。从稍远的地方看，它就像一张装饰性圣诞贺卡上的房子。下午的大雪在草坪上留下了巨大的白色雪堆，每一处檐口和裂缝都被一层柔软的浅色积雪勾勒出来。现在天空晴朗，星光灿烂。在它下面，湖滨大道正在从积雪中清理出来。
Chicago’s favorite show place, the old McClane mansion on Lake Shore Drive, was a blaze of lights. From a little distance it looked like a house on an ornamental Christmas card. The afternoon’s heavy snowfall had left great white drifts on the lawn and outlined every cornice and crevice with a soft, pale dusting. The sky was clear now and brilliant with stars. Below it, Lake Shore Drive was digging itself out of the snow.
海伦偷偷看了一眼马龙。这个小律师脸色苍白；事实上，他看起来快要累垮了。她希望他能告诉她他心里在想什么，但她知道问了也没用。不管是什么，他一方面对自己要做的事情感到兴奋，另一方面又对必须这么做感到不快。
Helene stole a glance at Malone. The little lawyer was gray-faced; indeed, he seemed close to exhaustion. She wished he would tell her what he had in mind, but she knew there was no use in asking questions. Whatever it might be, he was, at the same time, excited about what he was going to do and unhappy over the necessity of doing it.
尽管麦克莱恩大厦灯火辉煌，她看到这座大厦时还是微微颤抖了一下。会有不愉快的事情发生，而她不知道会是什么。
For all the weling lights of the McClane mansion, she shivered a little at the sight of it. Something unpleasant was going to happen, and she didn’t know what it was.
“我希望杰克在这儿。”她轻声说道，声音刚好能让马龙听到。
“I wish Jake were here,” she said under her breath, just loud enough for Malone to catch.
“我也希望如此。”律师严峻地说，“如果杰克找不到正确的行李寄存柜，不能及时带着里面的东西赶到这里，整个事情就会搞砸。”
“So do I,” the lawyer said grimly. “If Jake doesn’t find the right luggage locker and arrive here with the contents in time, the whole show will blow up.”
他们在客厅里找到了莫娜·麦克莱恩，她蜷缩在壁炉边的座位上，尖尖的小下巴搁在拳头上，凝视着炉火中的煤块。海伦突然想起一只黑色的小猫蹲在炉火旁，伸展着爪子，弯曲着爪子，对着火焰眨着眼睛，一半被火焰催眠了。房间里半明半暗，长长的窗户依然透进芝加哥黄昏微弱的灰色光线，只有壁炉和一盏柔和的灯光在房间里闪耀。
They found Mona McClane in the living room, curled up on the chimney seat, her small, pointed chin resting on her fist, staring into the coals. Helene was reminded suddenly of a black kitten crouched by the fire, stretching and curving its paws and blinking at the flames, half hypnotized by them. The room was in semidarkness, the long windows still admitted the faint gray of a Chicago twilight, and only the fireplace and one soft light glowed in the room.
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