atlantis.found-第14部分

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s　inside　a　narrow　mine　tunnel。
　　　　　The　hard…rock　acoustics　made　the　exhaust　blast　echo　in　their　ears。　The　beams　from　the　headlights　hopped　up　and　down；　striking　the　rails　and　overhead　timbers　like　strobe　lights。　He　narrowly　missed　an　ore　car　that　was　sitting　on　the　tracks　and　partially　protruding　from　an　intersecting　tunnel。　After　riding　up　the　gentle　grade　of　a　lift　shaft；　they　reached　the　upper　level　to　a　mine　that　was　labeled　〃The　Citizen〃　on　Pitt's　directional　puter。　Pitt　rolled　to　a　stop　where　the　tunnel　met　another　at　a　fork　and　consulted　the　tiny　monitor。
　　　　　〃Are　we　lost？〃　Pat　queried　above　the　rattle　from　the　exhaust　pipes。
　　　　　〃Another　two　hundred　yards　down　the　tunnel　on　the　left　and　we　should　e　to　the　end　of　the　mine　tunnel　you　said　es　out　under　the　New　Sheridan　Hotel。〃
　　　　　〃The　entrance　to　the　O'Reilly　Claim　was　covered　over　a　hundred　years　ago；〃　said　Marquez。　〃We'll　never　get　out　that　way。〃
　　　　　〃Never　hurts　to　look；〃　said　Pitt；　shifting　gears　and　easing　the　clutch　on　the　Suzuki。　He　gave　the　bike　a　burst　of　speed　and　was　forced　to　brake　hard　within　two　minutes；　when　he　suddenly　confronted　a　brick　wall　that　solidly　blocked　the　old　mine　entrance。　He　came　to　an　abrupt　stop；　leaned　the　bike　against　a　timber；　and　studied　the　bricks　under　the　headlight。
　　　　　〃We'll　have　to　find　another　way；〃　said　Marquez；　as　he　pulled　alongside；　came　to　a　stop；　and　set　both　feet　on　the　ground　to　keep　the　bike　upright。　〃We've　e　out　at　the　basement　foundation　wall　of　the　hotel。〃
　　　　　Pitt　appeared　not　to　have　heard　him。　As　if　his　mind　was　a　thousand　miles　away；　he　slowly　reached　out　and　ran　his　hand　over　the　old　kiln　dried　red　bricks。　He　turned　as　Pat　stopped　her　bike　and　turned　off　the　ignition。
　　　　　〃Where　do　we　go　now？〃　she　asked；　her　voice　betraying　near…total　exhaustion。
　　　　　Pitt　spoke　without　turning。　〃There；〃　he　answered　offhandedly；　pointing　in　the　general　direction　of　the　brick　wall。　〃I　suggest　you　both　move　your　bikes　to　the　side　of　the　tunnel。〃
　　　　　Pat　and　Marquez　didn't　get　it。　They　still　didn't　get　it　after　Pitt　climbed　on　the　Suzuki；　revved　up　the　engine；　and　spun　gravel　under　the　rear　wheel　as　he　rode　back　into　the　tunnel。　After　a　short　minute；　he　was　heard　accelerating　down　the　tracks　toward　them；　the　Suzuki's　headlight　beam　dancing　madly　off　the　timbers。
　　　　　Marquez　reckoned　Pitt　was　doing　nearly　thirty　miles　an　hour　when　he　thrust　out　his　legs　and　dug　his　heels　onto　the　twin　ore　cart　rails　less　than　ten　yards　from　the　wall；　released　his　grip　on　the　hand　controls；　and　stood　up；　allowing　the　Suzuki　to　speed　on　from　under　him。　Slumped　backward　to　pensate　for　his　momentum；　he　actually　remained　upright　for　nearly　twenty　feet　before　his　feet　slipped　off　the　rails　and　he　folded　into　a　ball　before　tumbling　through　the　tunnel　like　a　soccer　ball。
　　　　　The　motorcycle　stayed　on　its　wheels；　but　was　just　starting　to　lie　on　its　side　when　it　crashed　into　the　brick　wall　with　a　protesting　screech　of　metal　and　a　cloud　of　dust；　before　bursting　through　the　old　decaying　bricks　and　vanishing　into　the　void　beyond。
　　　　　Pat　ran　over　to　Pitt's　body；　which　had　skidded　to　a　stop　and　was　sprawled　on　the　ground。　She　would　have　sworn　he　had　killed　himself；　but　he　looked　up　at　her；　blood　streaming　from　a　gash　on　his　chin；　and　grinned　like　a　madman。　〃Let's　see　Evel　Knievel　try　that　one；〃　he　said。
　　　　　Pat　stared　down　at　him　in　amazement。　〃I　can't　believe　you　didn't　break　every　bone　in　your　body。〃
　　　　　〃None　broken；〃　he　muttered　in　pain；　as　he　slowly　rose　to　his　feet。　〃But　I　think　I　bent　a　few。〃
　　　　　〃That　was　the　craziest　thing　I　ever　saw；〃　mumbled　Marquez。
　　　　　〃Maybe；　but　it　worked　better　than　I　expected。〃　Pitt；　clutching　his　right　shoulder；　nodded　at　the　hole　in　the　brick　wall。　He　stood　there；　getting　his　breath　and　waiting　for　the　pain　from　bruised　ribs　and　a　dislocated　shoulder　to　ease；　while　Marquez　began　pulling　away　the　bricks　loosened　by　the　bike's　passage　to　enlarge　the　entry。
　　　　　The　miner　peered　around　the　fractured　wall　and　aimed　his　miner's　lamp　inside。　After　a　few　seconds；　he　looked　back　and　said；　〃I　think　we're　in　deep　trouble。〃
　　　　　〃Why？〃　asked　Pat。　〃Can't　we　get　out　that　way？〃
　　　　　〃We　can　get　out；〃　said　Marquez；　〃but　it's　going　to　cost　us　big　time。〃
　　　　　〃Cost？〃
　　　　　Pitt　limped　painfully　to　the　opening　and　peered　inside。　〃Oh；　no；〃　he　groaned。
　　　　　〃What　is　it？〃　Pat　demanded　in　exasperation。
　　　　　〃The　motorcycle；〃　said　Pitt。　〃It　crashed　into　the　wine　cellar　of　the　hotel　restaurant。　There　must　be　a　hundred　broken　bottles　of　vintage　wine　flowing　down　a　drain　in　the　floor。〃
　
　　　　　Sheriff　James　Eagan；　J　R。；　was　directing　the　rescue　operation　at　the　Paradise　Mine　when　he　received　the　call　from　his　dispatcher　informing　him　that　Luis　Marquez　was　being　held　in　custody　by　the　Telluride　town　marshal's　deputies　at　the　New　Sheridan　Hotel　for　breaking　and　entering。　Eagan　was　incredulous。　How　was　this　possible？　Marquezs　wife　had　been　adamant　in　claiming　her　husband　and　two　others　were　trapped　inside　the　mine　by　the　avalanche。　Against　his　better　judgment；　Eagan　turned　over　mand　of　the　rescue　operation　and　drove　down　the　mountain　to　the　hotel。
　　　　　The　last　thing　he　expected　to　find　was　a　mangled　motorcycle　sitting　amid　several　cases　of　smashed　bottles　of　wine。　His　astonishment　broadened　when　he　stepped　into　the　hotel's　conference　room　to　confront　the　confessed　culprits　and　found　three　damp；　dirty；　and　bedraggled　people；　two　men　and　one　woman；　one　of　them　wearing　a　torn　and　tattered　diver's　wet　suit。　All　were　in　handcuffs　and　in　the　custody　of　two　deputy　marshals；　who　stood　with　solemn　expressions　on　their　faces。　One　of　them　nodded　at　Pitt。
　　　　　〃This　one　was　carrying　an　arsenal。〃
　　　　　〃You　have　his　weapons？〃　Eagan　asked　officially。
　　　　　The　deputy　nodded　and　held　up　three　Para…Ordnance　。45…caliber　automatics。
　　　　　Satisfied；　Eagan　turned　his　attention　to　Luis　Marquez。　〃How　in　hell　did　you　get　out　of　the　mine　and　wind　up　here？〃　he　demanded　in　plete　bewilderment。
　　　　　〃It　doesn't　matter！〃　Marquez　snapped　back。　〃You　and　your　deputies　have　got　to　go　down　the　tunnel。　You'll　find　two　dead　bodies　and　a　college　professor；　Dr。　Ambrose；　who　we　left　guarding　a　killer。〃
　　　　　There　was　a　genuine　feeling　of　skepticism；　almost　total　disbelief；　in　Sheriff　Jim　Eagan's　mind　as　he　sat　down；　tipped　his　chair　back　on　two　legs；　and　pulled　a　notebook　from　the　breast　pocket　of　his　shirt。　〃Suppose　you　tell　me　just　what　is　going　on　here。〃
　　　　　Desperately；　Marquez　gave　a　brief　account　of　the　cave…in　and　flooding；　Pitt's　fortuitous　appearance；　their　escape　from　the　mysterious　chamber；　the　encounter　with　the　three　murderers；　and　their　forced　entry　into　the　wine　cellar　of　the　hotel。
　　　　　At　first　the　details　came　slowly；　as　Marquez　fought　off　the　effects　of　strain　and　exhaustion。　Then　his　words　flowed　faster　as　he　sensed　Eagan's　obvious　doubt。　Frustration　swelled　and　was　replaced　by　urgency；　as　Marquez　pleaded　with　Eagan　to　rescue　Tom　Ambrose。　〃Dammit；　Jim；　stop　being　stubborn。　Get　off　your　butt　and　go　see　for　yourself。〃
　　　　　Eagan　knew　Marquez　and　respected　him　as　a　man　of　integrity；　but　his　story　was　too　far…fetched　to　buy　without　proof。　〃Black　obsidian　skulls；　indecipherable　writings　in　a　chamber　carved　a　thousand　feet　into　the　mountain；　murderers　roaming　mine　shafts　on　motorcycles。　If　what　you　tell　me　is　true；　it　will　be　the　three　of　you　who　will　be　under　suspicion　for　murder。〃
　　　　　〃Mr。　Marquez　has　told　you　the　honest　truth；〃　said　Pat　slowly；　speaking　for　the　first　time。　〃Why　can't　you　believe　him？〃
　　　　　〃And　you　are？〃
　　　　　〃Patricia　O'Connell；〃　she　said　wearily。　〃I'm　with　the　University　of　Pennsylvania。〃
　　　　　〃And　what　is　your　reason　for　being　in　the　mine？〃
　　　　　〃My　field　is　ancient　languages。　I　was　asked　to　e　to　Telluride　and　decipher　the　strange　inscriptions　Mr。　Marquez　found　in　his　mine。〃
　　　　　Eagan　studied　the　woman　for　a　moment。　She　might　have　been　pretty　when　attractively　dressed　and　made　up。　He　did　not　find　it　easy　to　believe　she　was　a　Ph。D。　in　ancient　languages。　Sitting　there　with　her　wet；　stringy　hair　and　mud…smeared　face；　she　looked　like　a　homeless　bag　lady。
　　　　　〃All　I　know　for　sure；〃　said　Eagan　slowly；　〃is　that　you　people　destroyed　a　motorcycle；　which　might　be　stolen；　and　vandalized　the　wine　cellar　of　the　hotel。〃
　　　　　〃Forget　that；〃　pleaded　Marquez。　〃Rescue　Dr。　Ambrose。〃
　　　　　〃Only　when　I'm　sure　of　the　facts　will　I　send　my　men　into　the　mine。〃
　　　　　Jim　Eagan　had　been　sheriff　of　San　Miguel　County　for　eight　years　and　worked　in　harmony　with　the　marshals　who　policed　the　town　of　Telluride。　Homicides　were　far　and　few　between　in　San　Miguel　County。　Law…enforcement　problems　usually　centered　around　auto　accidents；　petty　theft；　drunken　fights；　vandalism；　and　drug　arrests；　usually　involving　young　transients　who　passed　through　Telluride　during　the　summer　season　and　attended　various　affairs　such　as　the　bluegrass　and　jazz　festivals。　Eagan　was　respected　by　the　citizens　of　his　small　but　beautifully　scenic　domain。　He　was　a　congenial　man；　serious　in　his　work；　but　quick　to　laugh　when　having　a　beer　at　one　of　the　local　watering　holes。　Of　medium　height　and　weight；　he　often　wore　a　facial　expression　that　could　berate　and　intimidate。　One　look　was　generally　all　it　took　to　cower　any　suspect　he　had　arrested。
　　　　　〃May　I　ask　you　a　small　favor？〃　said　the　bruised　and　fatigued　man　in　the　torn　diver's　wet　suit；　who　looked　as　though　he'd　been　dragged　through　the　impellers　of　a　water　pump。
　　　　　At　first　glance；　he　looked　to　Eagan　to　be　forty…five；　but　he　was　probably　a　good　five　years　younger　than　the　tanned　and　craggy　face　suggested。　The　sheriff　guessed　him　to　be　about　six　feet　three　inches；　weight　185　pounds；　give　or　take。　His　hair　was　black　and　wavy；　with　a　few　strands　of　gray　at　the　temples。　The　eyebrows　were　dark　and　bushy　and　stretched　over　eyes　that　were　a　vivid　green。　A　straight　and　narrow　nose　dropped　toward　firm　lips；　with　the　corners　turned　up　in　a　slight　grin。　What　bothered　Eagan　wasn't　so　much　the　man's　indifferent　attitude　he'd　known　many　felons　who　displayed　apathy　but　his　bemused　kind　of　detached　interest。　It　was　obvious　that　the　man　across　the　table　was　not　the　least　bit　impressed　with　Eagan's　dominating　tactics。
　　　　　〃Depends；〃　Eagan　answered　finally；　his　ballpoint　pen　poised　above　a　pag