alistairmaclean.bearisland-第22部分

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　〃You're　right；〃　I　said。　〃Just　the　weather。〃　I　sat　down　a　little　way　from　Mary　Stuart　and　not　as　much　as　by　a　flicker　of　a　closed　eyelid　did　she　acknowledge　my　presence。　I　shivered　involuntarily　and　drew　the　steamer　rug　around　me。　I　said：　〃It's　getting　a　bit　nippy　in　this　saloon。　Why　don't　you　take　one　of　these　and　kip　down　here？〃
　〃No　thanks。　I'd　no　idea　it　would　be　so　damn　cold　here。　My　blankets　and　pillow　and　it's　me　for　the　lounge。〃　He　smiled　faintly。　〃Just　as　long　as　Lonnie　doesn't　trample　all　over　me　with　his　hobnailed　boots　in　the　middle　watch。〃　It　was　apparently　mon　knowledge　that　the　liquor　in　the　lounge　drew　Lonnie　like　a　lodestone。　Halliday　chewed　some　more　then　nodded　at　the　bottle　in　Captain　Imrie's　wrought…iron　stand。　〃You're　a　whisky　man；　Doe。　That's　the　stuff　to　warm　you　up。）
　〃Agreed。　But　I'm　a　very　choosy　whisky　man。　What　is　it？〃
　Halliday　peered。　〃Black　Label。〃
　〃None　better。　But　I'm　a　malt　man　myself。　You're　cold；　you　try　some。　It's　on　the　house。　Stole　it　from　Otto。〃
　〃I'm　not　much　of　a　one　for　Scotch。　Now　Bourbon…？'　
　〃Corrodes　the　digestive　tract。　I　speak　as　a　medical　man。　Now；　one　sip　of　that　stuff　there　and　you'll　swear　off　those　lethal　Kentucky　brews　forever　。　Go　on。　Try　it。〃
　Halliday　looked　at　the　bottle；　as　if　uncertainly。　I　said　to　Mary　Stuart：　〃How　about　you？　just　a　little？　You've　no　idea　how　it　warms　the　cockles。〃
　She　opened　her　eyes　and　gave　me　that　oddly　expressionless　look。　〃No　thank　you。　I　hardly　ever　drink。〃　She　closed　her　eyes　again。
　〃The　flaw　that　makes　for　perfection；〃　I　said　absently；　because　my　mind　was　on　other　things。　Halliday　wouldn't　drink　from　that　bottle；　Mary　Stuart　wouldn't　drink　from　that　bottle；　but　Halliday　seemed　to　think　it　was　a　good　idea　that　I　should。　Had　they　both　remained　in　their　seats　during　my　absence　or　had　they　been　busy　little　bees；　one　keeping　guard　against　my　premature　return　while　the　other　altered　the　character　of　the　Black　Label　with　ingredients　not　necessarily　made　in　Scotland？　Why　else　had　Halliday　e　up　to　the　saloon　if　not　to　lure　me　away？　Why　hadn't　he　gone　direct　to　the　lounge　with　blankets　and　pillow　instead　of　wandering　aimlessly　up　here　to　the　saloon　where　he　must　have　known　from　mealtimes　that　the　temperature　was　considerably　colder　than　it　was　down　below？
　Because；　of　course；　before　Mary　Stuart　had　made　her　presence　known　to　me　here；　she'd　seen　me　through　the　outer　windows　and　had　reported　to　Halliday　that　a　certain　problem　had　arisen　that　could　only　be　solved　by　bringing　about　my　temporary　absence　from　the　saloon。　Sandy's　sickness　had　been　a　convenient　Coincidence…if　it　had　been　a　Coincidence；　I　suddenly　thought：　if　Halliday　was　the　person；　or　was　in　cahoots　with　the　person　who　was　so　handy　with　poisons；　then　the　introduction　of　some　mildly　emetic　potion　into　Sandy's　drink　would　have　involved　no　more　problem　than　that　of　opportunity。　It　all　added　up。
　I　became　aware　that　Halliday　was　on　his　feet？　and　was　lurching　unsteadily　in　my　direction；　bottle　in　one　hand　and　glass　in　the　other：　the　bottle；　I　noticed　almost　mechanically；　was　about　one　third　full。　He　halted；　swaying；　in　front　of　me　and　poured　a　generous　measure　into　the　glass；　bowed　slightly；　offered　me　the　glass　and　smiled。　〃Maybe　we're　both　on　the　hidebound　and　conservative　side；　Doe。　In　the　words　of　the　song；　I　will　if　you　will　so　will　I'
　I　smiled　back。　〃Your　willingness　to　experiment　does　you　credit。　But　no　thanks。　I　told　you；　I　just　don't　like　the　stuff。　I've　tried　it。　Have　you？〃
　〃No；　but　I…〃
　〃Well；　how　can　you　tell；　then？〃
　I　don't　think…〃
　〃You　were　going　to　try　it　anyway。　Go　on。　Drink　it。〃
　Mary　Stuart　opened　her　eyes。　〃Do　you　always　make　people　drink　against　their　will？　Is　this　what　doctors　do…force　alcohol　on　those　who　don't　want　it？〃
　I　felt　like　scowling　and　saying；　‘Why　don't　you　shut　up？〃　but　instead　I　smiled　and　said：　〃Teetotal　objections　overruled。〃
　〃So　what's　the　harm？〃　Halliday　said。　He　had　the　glass　to　his　lips。　I　stared　at　him　until　I　remembered　I　shouldn't　be　staring　which　was　all　of　a　fraction　of　a　second；　smiled　indulgently；　glanced　at　Mary　Stuart　whose　ever　so　slightly　pressed　lips　registered　no　more　than　a　trace　of　prudish　disapproval；　then　looked　back　in　time　to　see　Halliday　lowering　his　half　empty　glass。
　〃Not　bad；〃　he　pronounced。　〃Not　bad　at　all。　Kind　of　a　funny　taste；　though。〃
　〃You　could　be　arrested　in　Scotland　for　saying　that；〃　I　said　mechanically。　The　villain　had　nonchalantly　quaffed　the　hemlock　while　his　acplice　had　looked　on　with　indifference。　I　felt　very　considerably　diminished；　a　plete　and　utter　idiot：　as　a　detective；　my　inductive　and　deductive　powers　added　up　to　zero。　I　even　felt　like　apologising　to　them　except　that　they　wouldn't　know　what　I　was　talking　about。
　〃You　may　in　fact　be　right；　Doe；　one　could　even　get　to　like　this　stuff！'
　Halliday　topped　up　his　glass；　drank　again；　took　the　bottle　across　to　its　wrought…iron　rest　and　resumed　his　former　scat。　He　sat　there　silently　for　perhaps　half　a　minute；　finished　off　the　Scotch　with　a　couple　of　swallows　and　rose　abruptly　to　his　feet？。　〃With　that　lot　inside　me　I　can　even　ignore　Lonnie's　hobnails。　Good　night；　all。〃　He　hurried　from　the　saloon。
　I　looked　at　the　doorway　through　which　he　had　vanished；　my　mind　thoughtful；　my　face　not。　I　still　didn't　understand　why　he　had　e　to　the　saloon　in　the　first　place：　And　what　thought　had　so　suddenly　occurred　to　him　to　precipitate　so　abrupt　a　departure？　An　unprofitable　line　of　thinking　to　pursue；　I　couldn't　even　find　a　starting　point　to　begin　theorising。
　I　looked　at　Mary　Stuart　and　felt　very　guilty　indeed：　murderesses；　I　knew；　came　in　all　shapes；　sizes；　and　guises　but　if　they　came　in　this　particular　guise　then　I　could　never　trust　my　judgement　again。　I　wondered　what　on　earth　could　have　led　me　to　entertain　so　ludicrous　a　suspicion：　I　must　be　even　more　tired　than　I　thought。
　As　if　conscious　of　my　gaze　she　opened　her　eyes　and　looked　at　me。　She　had　this　extraordinary　ability　to　assume　this　still　and　wholly　expressionless　face　but　beneath　this　remoteness；　this　distance；　this　aloofness　lay；　I　thought；　a　marked　degree　of　vulnerability。　Wishful　thinking　on　my　part；　it　was　possible：　but　I　was　oddly　certain　it　wasn't。　Still　without　speaking；　still　without　altering　her　expression　or　lack　of　it；　she　half…rose；　hobbled　awkwardly　in　her　cocoon　of　steamer　rugs　and　sat　close　beside　me。　In　my　best　avuncular　fashion　I　put　my　arm　round　her　shoulders；　but　it　didn't　stay　there　for　long　for　she　took　hold　of　my　wrist　and　deliberately　and　without　haste　lifted　my　arm　over　the　top　of　her　head　and　pushed　it　clear　of　her。　Just　to　show　that　doctors　are　superhuman　and　incapable　of　being　offended　by　patients　who　aren't　really　responsible　for　their　own　behaviour　I　smiled　at　her。　She　smiled　back　at　me　and　her　eyes；　I　saw　with　an　astonishment　that　I　knew　was　not　reflected　in　my　face；　were　filled　with　unshed　tears：　almost　as　if　she　were　aware　of　those　tears　and　wished　to　hide　them；　she　suddenly　swung　her　legs　up　on　the　settee；　turned　towards　me　and　got　back　to　the　short…range　examination　of　my　shirt　front；　only　this　time　she　put　both　her　arms　around　me。　As　far　as　freedom　of　mobility　was　concerned　I　was　as　good　as　handcuffed；　which　was　doubtless　what　she　wanted　anyway。　That　she　harboured　no　lethal　intent　towards　me　I　was　sure：　I　was　equally　sure　that　she　was　determined　not　to　let　me　out　of　her　sight　and　that　this　was　the　most　effective　way　she　knew　of　doing　just　that。　How　much　it　cost　that　proud　and　lonely　person　to　behave　like　this　I　couldn't　guess：　even　less　could　I　imagine　what　made　her　do　it　at　all。
　I　sat　there　and　tried　to　mull　things　over　in　my　now　thoroughly　befogged　mind　and；　predictably；　made　no　progress　whatsoever。　Besides；　my　tired　eyes　were　being　almost　hypnotised　by　the　behaviour　of　the　Scotch　inside　the　Black　Label　bottle；　with　the　almost　metronomic　regularity　with　which　the　liquid　ascended　and　descended　the　opposite　sides　of　the　bottle　in　0l　response　to　the　regular　pitching　of　the　Morning　Rose。　One　thing　led　to　another　and　I　said：　〃Mary　dear？〃
　〃Yes？〃　She　didn't　turn　her　face　up　to　look　at　me　and　I　didn't　have　to　be　told　why：　the　area　around　the　level　of　my　fourth　shirt　button　was　being　noticeably　damp。
　I　don't　want　to　disturb　you　but　it's　time　for　my　nightcap。〃
　'Whisky？〃
　〃Ah！　Two　hearts　that　beat　as　one。〃
　〃No。〃　She　tightened　her　arms。
　'No？〃
　I　hate　the　smell　of　whisky。〃
　〃I'm　glad；〃　I　said　sotto　voce；　〃I'm　not　married　to　you。〃
　〃What　was　that？〃
　I　said；　〃Yes；　Mary　dear。〃'
　Five　more　minutes　passed　and　I　realised　that　my　mind　had　closed　down　for　the　night。　Idly　I　picked　up　the　Olympus　manifesto；　read　some　rubbish　about　the　sole　pleted　copy　of　the　screenplay　being　deposited　in　the　vault　of　a　London　bank；　and　put　it　down　again。　Mary　Stuart　was　breathing　quietly　and　evenly　and　seemed　to　be　asleep。　I　bent　and　blew　lightly　on　the　left　eyelid　which　was　about　the　only　part　of　her　face　that　I　could　see。　It　didn't　quiver。　She　was　asleep。　I　shifted　my　position　experimentally；　not　much；　and　her　arms　automatically　tightened　round　me；　she'd　clearly　left　a　note　to　her　subconscious　before　turning　in　for　the　night。
　I　resigned　myself　to　remaining　where　I　was；　it　wasn't　a　form　of　imprisonment　that　was　likely　to　scar　me　permanently：　I　wondered　vaguely　whether　the　idea　behind　this　silken　incarceration　was　to　prevent　me　from　doing　things　or　from　chancing　upon　some　other　devilry　that　might　well　be　afoot。　I　was　too　tired　to　care。　I　made　up　my　mind　just　to　sit　there　and　keep　a　sleepless　vigil　until　the　morning　came：　I　was　asleep　within　not　more　than　two　minutes。
　Mary　Stuart　was　not　and　didn't　look　as　if　she　was　built　along　the　lines　of　a　coal…heaver　but　she　wasn't　stuffed　with　swansdown　either　for　when　I　woke　my　left　arm　was　asleep；　wholly　numb　and　almost　useless；　a　realisation　that　was　brought　home　to　me　when　I　had　to　reach　across　my　right　hand　to　lift　up　my　left　wrist　to　see　what　time　the　luminous　hands　of　my　watch　said　it　was。　They　said　it　was　4：15。
　It　says　much　for　my　mental　acuity　that　at　least　ten　seconds　elapsed　before　it　occurred　to　me　why　it　had　been　necessary　for　me　to　consult　the　luminous　hands。　Because　it　was　dark；　of　course；　but　why　was　the　saloon　dark？　Every　light　had　been　on　when　I'd　gone　to　sleep。　And　what　〃had　wakened　me？　Somethi