df.theedge-第47部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


hand　to　his　snow…white　shirt　which　suddenly　blossomed　bright　red。　He　fell　artistically。
　　The　audience　truly　gasped。　Donna　knelt　frantically　beside　Pierre；　having　a　grand　dramatic　time。　Giles　tried　to　escape　and　was　subdued；　none　too　gently；　by　Zak　and　Raoul。　George　Burley　appeared　on　the　scene；　chuckling　non…stop；　waving　a　pair　of　stage　handcuffs。　As　Zak　later　said；　it　was　a　riot。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　Seventeen
　　
　　Emil　said　there　was　enough　champagne　for　everyone　to　have　half　a　glass　more；　so　he　and　I　went　around　pouring　while　Oliver　and　Cathy　cleared　the　hors…d'oeuvre　plates；　straightened　the　cloths　and　began　setting　the　places　for　the　banquet。
　　I　glanced　very　briefly　at　Filmer。　He　looked　exceeding　pale；　with　sweat　on　his　forehead。　One　hand；　lying　on　the　tablecloth；　was　tightly　clenched。　Beside　him；　the　Redi…Hots　were　enthusing　over　Zak　who　was　standing　beside　their　table　agreeing　that　Pierre　was　a　redeemable　character　who　would　make　good。　Zak　gave　me　a　smile　and　stepped　to　one　side　to　let　me　fill　the　Redi…Hots'　glasses。
　　Filmer　said；　in　a　harsh　croaking　voice；　'Where　did　you　get　that　story？'
　　As　if　accepting　a　pliment；　Zak　answered；　'Made　it　up。'
　　'You　must　have　got　it　from　somewhere。'　He　was　positive；　and　angry。　The　Redi…Hots　looked　at　him　in　surprise。
　　'I　always　make　them　up；'　Zak　said　lightly。　'Why。。。　didn't　you　enjoy　it？'
　　'Champagne；　sir？'　I　said　to　Filmer。　I'd　grown　very　bold；　I　thought。
　　Filmer　didn't　hear。　Mrs　Redi…Hots　passed　me　his　glass　which　I　replenished。　She　passed　it　back。　He　didn't　notice。
　　'I　thought　it　a　great　story；'　she　said。　'What　a　wicked　revolting　murderer。　And　he　was　so　nice　all　along。。。'
　　I　stepped　around　with　Zak　with　a　glimmer　of　eye　contact　in　which　I　gave　him　my　devout　thanks　for　his　discretion；　and　he　accepted　them　with　amusement。
　　At　the　next　table　Rose　Young　was　protesting　to　Cumber　that　it　had　to　have　been　a　coincidence　about　mitting　suicide　after　getting　rid　of　your　best　horse。。。　and　Ezra　had　sold　his　horse；　she　said；　not　given　it　away　because　he　was　being　blackmailed。
　　'How　do　we　know　he　wasn't？'　Cumber　demanded。
　　The　Unwins　were　listening　open…mouthed。　I　filled　all　their　glasses　quietly；　unnoticed　in　their　general　preoccupation。
　　'Who　now　has　Ezra's　horses；　that's　what　I　want　to　know；'　Cumber　said　truculently。　'And　it'll　be　easy　enough　to　find　out。'　He　spoke　loudly：　loudly　enough；　I　thought；　for　Filmer　to　hear　him；　if　he　were　listening。
　　Emil　had　beaten　me　to　it　with　the　Lorrimores；　but　they　made　a　remarkable　picture。　Mercer's　forearms　rested　on　the　table　as　he　sat　with　his　head　bowed。　Bambi；　a　glitter　of　tears　in　the　frosty　eyes；　stretched　out　a　hand；　closed　it　over　one　of　Mercer's　fists；　and　stroked　his　knuckles　with　forting　affection。　Xanthe　was　saying　anxiously；　'What's　the　matter　with　everybody？'　and　Sheridan　looked　blank。　Not　supercilious；　not　arrogant；　not　even　alarmed：　a　wiped　blank　slate。
　　There　were　a　good　many　people　in　the　aisle；　not　only　the　service　crew　but　also　the　actors　who；　still　in　character；　were　finishing　off　the　drama　in　the　ways　they　felt　happy　with：　Walter　and　Mavis；　for　instance；　agreeing　that　Pierre　had　saved　Donna's　life　and　couldn't　be　all　bad；　and　maybe　he　would　marry　Donna。。。　if　he　stopped　gambling。
　　Threading　his　way　through　all　this　came　the　sleeping…car　attendant　on　his　way　to　do　the　bunks　in　the　dome　car。　He　nodded　to　me　with　a　smile　as　he　passed；　and　I　nodded　back：　and　I　thought　that　my　main　problem　would　probably　be　that　the　play　had　been　all　too　successful；　and　that　the　people　most　upset　by　it　wouldn't　stay　sitting　down　for　dinner。
　　I　wandered　back　to　the　kitchen　where　Angus's　octopus　act　was　reaching　new　heights　and　hoped　especially　that　Filmer's　physical　reactions　wouldn't　get　him　restlessly　to　his　feet　and　force　him　to　leave。
　　He　didn't　move。　The　rigidity　in　his　body　very　slowly　relaxed。　The　impact　of　the　play　seemed　to　be　lessening；　and　perhaps　he　really　believed　that　Zak　had　made　it　all　up。
　　I　set　the　two　tables　nearest　to　the　kitchen：　automatically　folded　the　napkins　and　arranged　knives　and　forks。　The　sleeping…car　attendant　came　back　eventually　from　the　dome　car；　and　I　left　my　place　settings　unfinished　and　followed　him。
　　'Are　you　sure？'　he　asked　over　his　shoulder。　'They　seem　pretty　busy　in　the　dining　car。'
　　'It's　a　good　time；'　I　assured　him。　'Fifteen　minutes　to　dinner。　How　about　if　I　start　from　this　end；　then　I'll　just　stop　and　go　back　if　I　feel　guilty。'
　　'Right；'　he　said。　'Do　you　remember　how　to　fold　the　chairs？'
　　He　knocked　on　Filmer's　door。
　　'The　people　are　all　along　in　the　dining　car；　but　knock　first　just　in　case；'　he　said。
　　'OK。'
　　We　went　into　Filmer's　room。
　　'Fold　the　chair　while　I'm　here；　so　I　can　help　if　you　need　it。'
　　'OK。'　　　　　'
　　I　folded；　a　shade　slowly；　Julius　Apollo's　armchair。　The　sleeping…car　attendant　gave　me　a　pat　on　the　shoulder　and　left；　saying　he　would　start　from　the　far　end；　as　he　usually　did；　and　we　might　meet　in　the　middle。
　　'And　thanks　a　lot；'　he　said。
　　I　waved　a　hand。　The　thanks；　did　he　but　know　it；　were　all　mine。　I　left　the　door　open　and　pulled　Filmer's　bed　down　into　the　night　position；　smoothing　the　bottom　sheet；　folding　down　a　corner　of　the　top　sheet；　as　I'd　been　shown。
　　I　groped　into　Filmer's　wardrobe　space；　gripped　the　black　crocodile　briefcase　and　rested　it　on　the　bed。
　　Zero…four…nine。　One…five…one。
　　My　fingers　trembled　with　the　pulsion　for　speed。
　　I　aligned　the　little　wheels；　fumbling　where　I　needed　precision。　Zero…four…nine。。。　press　the　catch。　Click！
　　One…five…one。　Press　the　catch。　Click！　The　latches　were　open。
　　I　laid　the　case　flat　on　the　bottom　sheet；　pushing　the　upper　sheet　back　a　little　to　acmodate　it；　and　I　lifted　the　lid。　Heart　thumping；　breathing　stopped。
　　The　first　thing　inside　was　Filmer's　passport。　I　looked　at　it　briefly　and　then　more　closely；　getting　my　suspended　breath　back　in　a　jerky　sort　of　silent　laugh。　The　number　of　Filmer's　passport　was　H049151。　Hooray　for　the　Brigadier。
　　I　laid　the　passport　on　the　bed；　and　looked　through　the　other　papers　without　removing　them　or　changing　their　order。　They　were　mainly　a　boring　lot：　all　the　bumf　about　the　train　trip；　a　few　newspaper　pages　about　the　races；　then　a　newspaper　cutting　from　a　Cambridge　local　paper　about　the　building　of　a　new　library　in　one　of　the　colleges；　thanks　to　the　generosity　of　Canadian　philanthropist　Mercer　P。　Lorrimore。
　　My　God；　I　thought。
　　Beneath　the　clipping　was　a　letter…a　photocopy　of　a　letter。　I　read　it　at　breakneck　speed；　feeling　danger　creep　up　my　spine；　feeling　my　skin　flood　with　heat。
　　It　was　short。　Typewritten。　There　was　no　address　at　the　top；　no　date；　no　salutation　and　no　signature。　It　said：
　　As　requested　I　examined　the　cadavers　of　the　seven　cats　found　pegged　out；　eviscerated　and　beheaded　in　the　College　gardens。　I　can　find　nothing　except　for　wilful　wickedness。　These　were　not　cult　killings；　in　my　opinion。　The　cats　were　killed　over　a　period　of　perhaps　three　weeks；　the　last　one　yesterday。　Each　one；　except　the　last；　had　been　hidden　under　leaves；　and　had　been　attacked　after　death　by　insects　and　scavengers。　They　were　all　alive　when　they　were　pegged　out；　and　during　evisceration。　Most；　if　not　all；　were　alive　at　decapitation。　I　have　disposed　of　the　remains；　as　you　asked。
　　I　could　see　my　hand　trembling。　I　tipped　up　the　next　few　sheets　of　paper　which　were　reports　from　stockbrokers；　and　then；　at　the　very　bottom；　I　came　across　a　small　yellow　memo　sticking　to　a　foolscap…sized　paper　headed　CONVEYANCE。
　　The　memo　said；　'You　will　have　to　sign　this；　not　Ivor　Horfitz；　but　I　think　we　can　keep　it　quiet。'
　　I　looked　a　shade　blankly　at　the　legal　words　on　the　deed：　'。。。　all　that　parcel　of　land　known　as　SF　90155　on　the　west　side　of。。。'　and　heard　the　sleeping…car　attendant's　voice　ing　nearer　along　the　corridor。
　　'Tommy。。。　where　are　you？'
　　I　flicked　the　case　shut　and　pushed　it　under　the　bed's　top　sheet。　The　passport　was　still　in　view。　I　shoved　it　under　the　pillow；　walked　out　of　the　door　hastily　and　closed　it　behind　me。
　　'You've　been　ages　in　there；'　he　said；　but　tolerantly。　'Couldn't　you　undo　the　bed？'
　　'Managed　it　finally；'　I　said；　dry　mouthed。
　　'Right。　Well；　I　didn't　give　you　any　chocolates。'　He　handed　me　a　box　of　big　silver…wrapped　bonbons。　'Put　one　on　each　pillow。'
　　'Yes；　'I　said。
　　'Are　you　all　right？'　he　asked　curiously。
　　'Oh；　yes。　It　was　hot　in　the　dining　car。'
　　'True。'　He　went　back　towards　his　end　of　the　car；　unsuspicious。　Heart　still　thumping　I　returned　to　Filmer's　room；　retrieved　his　passport　from　under　the　pillow；　replaced　it　in　the　briefcase；　shut　the　locks；　twirled　the　bination　wheels；　realized　I　hadn't　noticed　where　they'd　been　set　when　I　came　in；　hoped　to　hell　that　Filmer　didn't　set　them　deliberately；　put　the　case　back　as　I'd　found　it；　straightened　the　bed　and　put　the　chocolate　tidily　where　it　belonged。
　　I　went　out　of　the　room；　closed　the　door　and　walked　two　paces　towards　the　next　door　along。
　　'Hey；　you；'　Filmer's　voice　said　angrily　from　close　behind　me。　'What　were　you　doing　in　there？'
　　I　turned。　Looked　innocent。。。　felt　stunned。
　　'Making　your　bed　ready　for　the　night；　sir。'
　　'Oh。'　He　shrugged；　accepting　it。
　　I　held　the　box　of　sweets　towards　him。　'Would　you　like　an　extra　chocolate；　sir？'
　　'No；　I　wouldn't；'　he　said；　and　went　abruptly　into　his　bedroom。
　　I　felt　weak。　I　waited　for　him　to　e　out　exploding　that　I'd　meddled　with　his　belongings。
　　Nothing。。。　nothing。。。　happened。
　　I　went　into　the　room　next　door；　folded　the　armchairs；　lowered　both　beds；　turned　back　the　sheets；　delivered　the　sweets。　All　automatic；　with　a　feeling　of　total　unreality。　I'd　twice　e　too　close　to　discovery。　I　had　no　great　taste；　I　found；　for　the　risks　of　a　spy。
　　I　was　disturbed；　in　a　way；　by　my　pusillanimity。　I　supposed　I'd　never　thought　much　about　courage：　had　taken　it　for　granted。。。　physical　courage；　or　physical　endurance；　anyway。　I'd　been　in　hard　places　in　the　past；　but　these　risks　were　different　and　more　difficult；　at　least　for　me。
　　I　did　the　third　bedroom；　by　which　time　the　sleeping…car　attendant；　much　faster；　had　almost　finished　the　rest。
　　'Thanks　a　lot；'　he　said　cheerfully。　'Appreciate　it。'
　　'Any　time。'
　　'Did