cb.booksofblood2-第16部分

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。　But　a　murderess？　No；　that　would　spoil　my　life。'
　'Is　he　blackmailing　you？　This　Lyndon？'
　He　stared　at　the　day　through　the　blinds；　with　a　crippled　look　on　his　face。　There　was　a　twitch　in　the　nerves　of　his　cheek；　under　his　left　eye。
　'Yes；　if　you　must　know；'　he　said　in　a　dead　voice。　'The　bastard　has　me　for　all　I'm　worth。'
　'I　see。'
　'And　if　he　can　guess；　so　can　others。　You　understand？'
　'I'm　strong：　you're　strong。　We　can　twist　them　around　our　little　fingers。'
　'No。'
　'Yes！　I　have　skills；　Titus。'
　'I　don't　want　to　know。'
　'You　will　know；'　she　said。
　She　looked　at　him；　taking　hold　of　his　hands　without　touching　him。　He　watched；　all　astonished　eyes；　as　his　unwilling　hands　were　raised　to　touch　her　face；　to　stroke　her　hair　with　the　fondest　of　gestures。　She　made　him　run　his　trembling　fingers　across　her　breasts；　taking　them　with　more　ardour　than　he　could　summon　on　his　own　initiative。
　'You　are　always　too　tentative；　Titus；'　she　said；　making　him　paw　her　almost　to　the　point　of　bruising。　'This　is　how　I　like　it。'　Now　his　hands　were　lower；　fetching　out　a　different　look　from　her　face。　Tides　were　moving　over　it；　she　was　all　alive　…'Deeper　…'
　His　finger　intruded；　his　thumb　stroked。
　'I　like　that；　Titus。　Why　can't　you　do　that　to　me　without　me　demanding？'
　He　blushed。　He　didn't　like　to　talk　about　what　they　did　together。　She　coaxed　him　deeper；　whispering。
　'I　won't　break；　you　know。　Virginia　may　be　Dresden　china；　I'm　not。　I　want　feeling；　I　want　something　that　I　can　remember　you　by　when　I'm　not　with　you。　Nothing　is　everlasting；　is　it？　But　I　want　something　to　keep　me　warm　through　the　night。'
　He　was　sinking　to　his　knees；　his　hands　kept；　by　her　design；　on　her　and　in　her；　still　roving　like　two　lustful　crabs。　His　body　was　awash　with　sweat。　It　was；　she　thought；　the　first　time　she'd　ever　seen　him　sweat。
　'Don't　kill　me；'　he　whimpered。
　'I　could　wipe　you　out。'　Wipe；　she　thought；　then　put　the　image　out　of　her　mind　before　she　did　him　some　harm。
　'I　know。　I　know；'　he　said。　'You　can　kill　me　easily。'
　He　was　crying。　My　God；　she　thought；　the　great　man　is　at　my　feet；　sobbing　like　a　baby。　What　can　I　learn　of　power　from　this　puerile　performance？　She　plucked　the　tears　off　his　cheeks；　using　rather　more　strength　than　the　task　required。　His　skin　reddened　under　her　gaze。
　'Let　me　be；　J。　I　can't　help　you。　I'm　useless　to　you。'
　
　It　was　true。　He　was　absolutely　useless。　Contemptuously；　she　let　his　hands　go。　They　fell　limply　by　his　sides。
　'Don't　ever　try　and　find　me；　Titus。　You　understand？　Don't　ever　send　your　minions　after　me　to　preserve　your　reputation；　because　I　will　be　more　merciless　than　you've　ever　been。'
　He　said　nothing；　just　knelt　there；　facing　the　window；　while　she　washed　her　face；　drank　the　coffee　they'd　ordered；　and　left。
　
　Lyndon　was　surprised　to　find　the　door　of　his　office　ajar。　It　was　only　seven…thirty…six。　None　of　the　secretaries　would　be　in　for　another　hour。　Clearly　one　of　the　cleaners　had　been　remiss；　leaving　the　door　unlocked。　He'd　find　out　who：　sack　her。
　He　pushed　the　door　open。
　Jacqueline　was　sitting　with　her　back　to　the　door。　He　recognized　the　back　of　her　head；　that　fall　of　auburn　hair。　A　sluttish　display；　too　teased；　too　wild。　His　office；　an　annex　to　Mr　Pettifer's；　was　kept　meticulously　ordered。　He　glanced　over　it：　everything　seemed　to　be　in　place。
　'What　are　you　doing　here？'
　She　took　a　little　breath；　preparing　herself。
　This　was　the　first　time　she　had　planned　to　do　it。　Before　it　had　been　a　spur…of…the…moment　decision。
　He　was　approaching　the　desk；　and　putting　down　his　briefcase　and　his　neatly…folded　copy　of　the　Financial　Times。
　'You　have　no　right　to　e　in　here　without　my　per…mission；'　he　said。
　She　turned　on　the　lazy　swivel　of　his　chair；　the　way　he　did　when　he　had　people　in　to　discipline。
　'Lyndon；'　she　said。
　'Nothing　you　can　say　or　do　will　change　the　facts；　Mrs　Ess；'　he　said；　saving　her　the　trouble　of　introducing　the　subject；　'you　are　a　cold…blooded　killer。　It　was　my　bounden　duty　to　inform　Mr　Pettifer　of　the　situation。'
　'You　did　it　for　the　good　of　Titus？'
　'Of　course。'
　'And　the　blackmail；　that　was　also　for　the　good　of　Titus；　was　it？'
　'Get　out　of　my　office　…'
　'Was　it；　Lyndon？'
　'You're　a　whore！　Whores　know　nothing：　they　are　igno…rant；　diseased　animals；'　he　spat。　'Oh；　you're　cunning；　I　grant　you　that　…　but　then　so's　any　slut　with　a　living　to　make。'
　She　stood　up。　He　expected　a　riposte。　He　got　none；　at　least　not　verbally。　But　he　felt　a　tautness　across　his　face：　as　though　someone　was　pressing　on　it。
　'What。　。　。　are。　。　。　you。　。　。　doing？'　he　said。
　'Doing？'
　His　eyes　were　being　forced　into　slits　like　a　child　imitat…ing　a　monstrous　Oriental；　his　mouth　was　hauled　wide　and　tight；　his　smile　brilliant。　The　words　were　difficult　to　say　…'Stop。。　。it。　。　。'　She　shook　her　head。　'Whore。　。　。'　he　said　again；　still　defying　her。　She　just　stared　at　him。　His　face　was　beginning　to　jerk　and　twitch　under　the　pressure；　the　muscles　going　into　spasm。
　'The　police。　。　。'　he　tried　to　say；　'if　you　lay　a　finger　on　me。。。'
　'I　won't；'　she　said；　and　pressed　home　her　advantage。　Beneath　his　clothes　he　felt　the　same　tension　all　over　his　body；　pulling　his　skin；　drawing　him　tighter　and　tighter。
　
　Something　was　going　to　give；　he　knew　it。　Some　part　of　him　would　be　weak；　and　tear　under　this　relentless　assault。　And　if　he　once　began　to　break　open；　nothing　would　prevent　her　ripping　him　apart。　He　worked　all　this　out　quite　coolly；　while　his　body　twitched　and　he　swore　at　her　through　his　enforced　grin。
　'Cunt；'　he　said。　'Syphilitic　cunt。'
　He　didn't　seem　to　be　afraid；　she　thought。
　In　extremis　he　just　unleashed　so　much　hatred　of　her；　the　fear　was　entirely　eclipsed。　Now　he　was　calling　her　a　whore　again；　though　his　face　was　distorted　almost　beyond　recognition。
　And　then　he　began　to　split。
　The　tear　began　at　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　ran　up；　across　his　brow；　and　down；　bisecting　his　lips　and　his　chin；　then　his　neck　and　chest。　In　a　matter　of　seconds　his　shirt　was　dyed　red；　his　dark　suit　darkening　further；　his　cuffs　and　trouser…legs　pouring　blood。　The　skin　flew　off　his　hands　like　gloves　off　a　surgeon；　and　two　rings　of　scarlet　tissue　lolled　down　to　either　side　of　his　flayed　face　like　the　ears　of　an　elephant。
　His　name…calling　had　stopped。
　He　had　been　dead　of　shock　now　for　ten　seconds；　though　she　was　still　working　him　over　vengefully；　tugging　his　skin　off　his　body　and　flinging　the　scraps　around　the　room；　until　at　last　he　stood；　steaming；　in　his　red　suit；　and　his　red　shirt；　and　his　shiny　red　shoes；　and　looked；　to　her　eyes；　a　little　more　like　a　sensitive　man。　Content　with　the　effect；　she　released　him。　He　lay　down　quietly　in　a　blood　puddle　and　slept。
　My　God；　she　thought；　as　she　calmly　took　the　stairs　out　the　back　way；　that　was　murder　in　the　first　degree。
　
　She　saw　no　reports　of　the　death　in　any　of　the　papers；　and　nothing　on　the　news　bulletins。　Lyndon　had　apparently　died　as　he　had　lived；　hidden　from　public　view。
　But　she　knew　wheels；　so　big　their　hubs　could　not　be　seen　by　insignificant　individuals　like　herself；　would　be　moving。　What　they　would　do；　how　they　would　change　her　life；　she　could　only　guess　at。　But　the　murder　of　Lyndon　had　not　simply　been　spite；　though　that　had　been　a　part　of　it。　No；　she'd　also　wanted　to　stir　them　up；　her　enemies　in　the　world；　and　bring　them　after　her。　Let　them　show　their　hands：　let　them　show　their　contempt；　their　terror。　She'd　gone　through　her　life；　it　seemed；　looking　for　a　sign　of　herself；　only　able　to　define　her　nature　by　the　look　in　others'　eyes。　Now　she　wanted　an　end　to　that。　It　was　time　to　deal　with　her　pursuers。
　Surely　now　everyone　who　had　seen　her；　Pettifer　first；　then　Vassi；　would　e　after　her；　and　she　would　close　their　eyes　permanently：　make　them　forgetful　of　her。　Only　then；　the　witnesses　destroyed；　would　she　be　free。
　Pettifer　didn't　e；　of　course；　not　in　person。　It　was　easy　for　him　to　find　agents；　men　without　scruple　or　passion；　but　with　a　nose　for　pursuit　that　would　shame　a　bloodhound。
　A　trap　was　being　laid　for　her；　though　she　couldn't　yet　see　its　jaws。　There　were　signs　of　it　everywhere。　An　eruption　of　birds　from　behind　a　wall；　a　peculiar　light　from　a　distant　window；　footsteps；　whistles；　dark…suited　men　reading　the　news　at　the　limit　of　her　vision。　As　the　weeks　passed　they　didn't　e　any　closer　to　her；　but　then　neither　did　they　go　away。　They　waited；　like　cats　in　a　tree；　their　tails　twitching；　their　eyes　lazy。
　But　the　pursuit　had　Pettifer's　mark。　She'd　learned　enough　from　him　to　recognize　his　circumspection　and　his　guile。　They　would　e　for　her　eventually；　not　in　her　time；　but　in　theirs。　Perhaps　not　even　in　theirs：　in　his。　And　though　she　never　saw　his　face；　it　was　as　though　Titus　was　on　her　heels　personally。
　My　God；　she　thought；　I'm　in　danger　of　my　life　and　I　don't　care。
　It　was　useless；　this　power　over　flesh；　if　it　had　no　direction　behind　it。　She　had　used　it　for　her　own　petty　reasons；　for　the　gratification　of　nervous　pleasure　and　sheer　anger。　But　these　displays　hadn't　brought　her　any　closer　to　other　people：　they　just　made　her　a　freak　in　their　eyes。
　Sometimes　she　thought　of　Vassi；　and　wondered　where　he　was；　what　he　was　doing。　He　hadn't　been　a　strong　man；　but　he'd　had　a　little　passion　in　his　soul。　More　than　Ben；　more　than　Pettifer；　certainly　more　than　Lyndon。　And；　she　remembered；　fondly；　he　was　the　only　man　she'd　ever　known　who　had　called　her　Jacqueline。　All　the　rest　had　manufactured　unendearing　corruptions　of　her　name：
　Jackie；　or　J。；　or；　in　Ben's　more　irritating　moods；　Ju…ju。　Only　Vassi　had　called　her　Jacqueline；　plain　and　simple；　accepting；　in　his　formal　way；　the　pleteness　of　her；　the　totality　of　her。　And　when　she　thought　of　him；　tried　to　picture　how　he　might　return　to　her；　she　feared　for　him。
　
　Vassi's　Testimony　（part　two）
　
　'Of　course　I　searched　for　her。　It's　only　when　you've　lost　someone　that　you　realize　the　nonsense　of　that　phrase　'it's　a　small　world'。　It　isn't。　It's　a　vast；　devouring　world；　especially　if　you're　alone。
　When　I　was　a　lawyer；　locked　in　that　incestuous　coterie；　I　used　to　see　the　same　faces　day　after　day。　Some　I'd　exchange　words　with；　some　smiles；　some　nods。　We　belonged；　even　if
　
　we　were　enemies　at　the　Bar；　to　the　same　placent　circle。　We　ate　at　the　same　tables；　we　drank　elbow　to　elbow。　We　even　shared