Smiley's People汉译74

agent124

“Party bought a wooden duck on wheels,” the minicab driver had said, turning to illustrate with his white hands. “Yellow job.”
The back door had a knocker. He gave a light tap with it and tried the door handle, which yielded. He stepped inside and closed the door carefully behind him. He was standing in a scullery that led to a kitchen and the first thing he noticed in the kitchen was the kettle off the gas with a thin line of steam curling from its silent whistle. And two cups and a milk jug and a teapot on a tray.
“Mrs. Craven?” he called softly. “Stella?”
He crossed the dining-room and stood in the hall, on the brown carpet beside the perambulator, and in his mind he was making pacts with God: just no more deaths, no more Vladimirs, and I will worship You for the rest of our respective lives.
“Stella? It’s me. Max,” he said.


He pushed open the drawing-room door and she was sitting in the corner on an easy chair between the piano and window, watching him with cold determination. She was not scared, but she looked as if she hated him. She was wearing a long Asian dress and no make-up. She was holding the child to her, boy or girl he couldn’t tell and couldn’t remember. She had its tousled head pressed against her shoulder and her hand over its mouth to stop it making a noise, and she was watching him over the top of its head, challenging and defying him.
“那人买了一只带轮子的木鸭子，”出租车司机转过身，用白皙的手比划着。“黄色的。”
后门有一个门环。他轻轻敲了一下，然后试了试门把手，门把手动了。他走了进去，小心翼翼地关上身后的门。他站在通往厨房的洗碗间里，在厨房里，他首先注意到的是已经从煤气灶上拿开的水壶，一缕细细的蒸汽从不再发声的口哨飘出来。托盘上放着两个杯子、一个牛奶壶和一个茶壶。
“克雷文太太？”他轻声叫道。“斯黛拉？”
他穿过吃饭间，站在客厅里，婴儿车旁边的棕色地毯上，心里在和上帝约定：只要不再有人死去，不再有弗拉基米尔，我就会在余生崇拜您。
“斯黛拉在吗？是我。马克斯，"他说。


他推开客厅的门，在房间的角落，钢琴和窗户之间有把安乐椅，她正坐在上面，冷冷地看着他。她并没有害怕，而是看起来好像很恨他。她穿着一件亚洲长裙，没有化妆。她抱着一个孩子，是男孩还是女孩，他分不清，也记不清了。她把孩子蓬乱的头按在自己的肩膀上，用手捂住孩子的嘴，不让孩子发出声音。她从孩子的头顶上向他看过去，目光中带着挑战和反抗的意味。

“Where’s Villem?” he asked.
Slowly she took her hand away and Smiley expected the child to scream but instead it stared at him in salute.
“His name’s William,” she said quietly. “Get that straight, Max. That’s his choice. William Craven. British to the core. Not Estonian, not Russian. British.” She was a beautiful woman, black-haired and still. Seated in the corner holding her child, she seemed permanently painted against the dark background.
“I want to talk to him, Stella. I’m not asking him to do anything. I may even be able to help him.”
“I’ve heard that before, haven’t I? He’s out. Gone to work where he belongs.”
Smiley digested this.
“Then what’s his lorry doing outside?” he objected gently.
“He’s gone to the depot. They sent a car for him.”
Smiley digested this also.
“Then who’s the second cup for in the kitchen?”
“He’s got nothing to do with it,” she said.
He went upstairs and she let him. There was a door straight ahead of him and there were doors to his left and right, both open, one to the child’s room, one to the main bedroom. The door ahead of him was closed and when he knocked there was no answer.
“维廉在哪里？”他问道。
她慢慢地把手从孩子身上拿开，斯迈利本以为孩子会尖叫，但孩子却用尊敬的神情盯着他。
“他的名字是威廉。”她轻声说。“搞清楚，马克斯。这是他自己起的。威廉·克雷文。道地的英国人。不是爱沙尼亚人，也不是俄国人，而是英国人。（维廉是威廉这个英文名字在爱沙尼亚语里的拼法——译注）” 她是个美丽的女人，黑发，文静。她抱着孩子坐在角落里，好像是黑色背景的一幅画。
“我想和他谈谈，斯黛拉。我不是要他做什么。我甚至可以帮助他。”
“这种话我以前听过，不是吗？他出去了。去他该去的地方工作了。”
斯迈利听了这句话后稍微思考了一下。
“那他的卡车在外面干什么？”他温和地表示不同意。
“他去仓库了。他们派车来接他。”
斯迈利听后又稍微想了下。
“那厨房里的第二个杯子是给谁的？”
“跟他没关系，”她说。
他上了楼，她没阻拦他。正前方有一扇门，左右两边各有一扇门，都开着，一扇通向孩子的房间，一扇通向主卧室。他前面的门是关着的，当他敲门时，没有人回应。

“Villem, it’s Max,” he said. “I have to talk to you, please. Then I’ll go and leave you in peace, I promise.”
He repeated this word for word, then went down the steep stairs again to the drawing-room. The child had begun crying loudly.
“Perhaps if you made that tea,” he suggested between the child’s sobs.
“You’re not talking to him alone, Max. I’m not having you charm him off the tree again.”
“I never did that. That was not my job.”
“He still thinks the world of you. That’s enough for me.”
“It’s about Vladimir,” Smiley said.
“I know what it’s about. They’ve been ringing half the night, haven’t they?”
“Who have?”
“‘Where’s Vladimir? Where’s Vladi?’ What do they think William is? Jack the Ripper? He hasn’t had sound nor sight of Vladi for God knows how long. Oh, Beckie, darling, do be quiet!” Striding across the room, she found a tin of biscuits under a heap of washing and shoved one forcibly into the child’s mouth. “I’m not usually like this,” she said.
“Who’s been asking for him?” Smiley insisted gently.
“Mikhel, who else? Remember Mikhel, our Freedom Radio ace, Prime Minister designate of Estonia, betting tout? Three o’clock this morning while Beckie’s cutting a tooth, the bloody phone goes. It’s Mikhel doing his heavy-breathing act. ‘Where’s Vladi, Stella? Where’s our leader?’ I said to him: ‘You’re daft, aren’t you? You think it’s harder to tap the phone when people only whisper? You’re barking mad,’ I said to him. ‘Stick to racehorses and get out of politics,’ I told him.”
“维廉，我是马克斯。”他说。“我必须和你谈谈，好吗。然后我就走，不打扰你了，我保证。”
他一字一顿地重复了一遍，然后又走下陡峭的楼梯，来到客厅。孩子开始放声大哭。
“也许你还是去泡茶比较好。”他在孩子的抽泣声中建议道。
“你不能单独和他说话，马克斯。我不会再让你把他拉下水了。”
“我从没那么做过。那不是我的工作。”
“他仍然很崇拜你。这个理由对我来说就够了。”
“是有关弗拉基米尔的事情，”斯迈利说。
“我知道是他的事情。他们已经打了大半夜的电话，对吧？”
“谁？”
“弗拉基米尔在哪？弗拉迪在哪？他们以为威廉是什么？开膛手杰克（一名身份不明的连环杀手，1888年活跃于英国伦敦，这个案件至今是个谜——译注）？天知道他有多久没见过弗拉迪了。哦，贝琪，亲爱的，安静点！” 她大步穿过房间，在一堆衣物下找到一罐饼干，硬塞了一块到孩子嘴里。“我平时可不是这样的，”她说。
“谁找他了？” 斯迈利温和地追问道。
“米克尔，还能有谁？还记得我们自由电台的王牌、还没上任的爱沙尼亚总理、赌博兜售者（为下注提供建议或技巧的人，通常是收费的——译注）米克尔吗？今天凌晨三点，贝琪因为长新牙正在闹的时候，该死的电话响了。是米克尔打来的，他有意呼吸沉重地说：‘弗拉迪在哪，斯黛拉？我们的头儿呢？'我对他说：'你太蠢了，不是吗？你以为人们只要窃窃私语，窃听电话就困难了吗？你真是疯了，’我对他说。'专心搞你的赛马，离政治远点。'”

“Why was he so worried?” Smiley asked.
“Vladi owed him money, that’s why. Fifty quid. Probably lost it on a horse together, one of their many losers. He’d promised to bring it round to Mikhel’s place and have a game of chess with him. In the middle of the night, mark you. They’re insomniacs, apparently, as well as patriots. Our leader hadn’t shown up. Drama. ‘Why the hell should William know where he is?’ I ask him. ‘Go to sleep.’ An hour later who’s back on the line? Breathing as before? Our Major Mikhel once more, hero of the Royal Estonian Cavalry, clicking our heels and apologising. He’s been round to Vladi’s pad, banged on the door, rung the bell. There’s nobody at home. ‘Look, Mikhel,’ I said. ‘He’s not here, we’re not hiding him in the attic, we haven’t seen him since Beckie’s christening, we haven’t heard from him. Right? William’s just in from Hamburg, he needs sleep, and I’m not waking him.’”
“So he rang off again,” Smiley suggested.
“Did he, hell! He’s a leech. ‘Villem is Vladi’s favourite,’ he says. ‘What for?’ I say. ‘The three-thirty at Ascot? Look, go to bloody sleep!’ ‘Vladimir always said to me, if ever anything went wrong, I should go to Villem,’ he said. ‘So what do you want him to do?’ I said. ‘Drive up to town in the trailer and bang on Vladi’s door as well?’ Jesus!”
“他为什么这么担心？” 斯迈利问道。
“弗拉迪欠他钱，这就是原因。五十镑。可能是赌马时输掉的，是众多输家中的一个。他答应把钱带到米克尔家，跟他下一盘棋。你听清楚了，半夜打来这种电话。显然，他们是失眠症患者，也是爱国者。我们的领袖还没出现。我问他，'威廉凭什么知道他在哪儿？去睡觉吧。’一小时后，谁又打来了电话？谁又是呼吸沉重地说话？又是我们的米克尔少校，爱沙尼亚皇家骑兵团的英雄，他向我们立正道歉。他去了弗拉迪的公寓，敲了门，按了铃，家里没人。‘听着，米克尔，’我说。‘他不在这里，我们也没有把他藏在阁楼里，自从贝琪的洗礼仪式后我们就没见过他，也没有他的消息。知道吗？威廉刚从汉堡回来，他需要睡觉，我不会叫醒他的。'”。
“于是他又挂了电话，”斯迈利说。
“他才没有哪，该死的！他就是条水蛭。他说，'维廉是弗拉迪最喜欢的人。‘什么事？'我说。‘三点半去阿斯科特赛马场？听着，给我睡觉去！''弗拉基米尔总是对我说，如果出了什么问题，我应该去找维廉，'他说。’那你想让他怎么做？'我说，'开着拖车去城里，也去敲弗拉迪的门？’真是天晓得！”