preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第67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！


　〃I'm　afraid　we　don't　have　any；〃　Pendergast　murmured。
　
　TWO
　　
　CUSTER　WATCHED　BRISBANE　unlock　his　office　door；　open　it；　then　step　irritably　aside　to　allow　them　to　enter。　Custer　stepped　through　the　doorway；　the　flush　of　returning　confidence　adding　gravity　to　his　stride。　There　was　no　need　to　hurry；　not　anymore。　He　turned；　looked　around：　very　clean　and　modern；　lots　of　chrome　and　glass。　Two　large　windows　looked　over　Central　Park　and；　beyond；　at　the　twinkling　wall　of　lights　that　made　up　Fifth　Avenue。　His　eyes　fell　to　the　desk　that　dominated　the　center　of　the　room。　Antique　inkwell；　silver　clock；　expensive　knickknacks。　And　a　glass　box　full　of　gemstones。　Cushy；　cushy。
　〃Nice　office；〃　he　said。
　Shrugging　the　pliment　aside；　Brisbane　draped　his　tuxedo　jacket　over　his　chair；　then　sat　down　behind　the　desk。　〃I　don't　have　a　lot　of　time；〃　he　said　truculently。　〃It's　eleven　o'clock。　I　expect　you　to　say　what　you　have　to　say；　then　have　your　men　vacate　the　premises　until　we　can　determine　a　mutually　agreeable　course　of　action。〃
　〃Of　course；　of　course。〃　Custer　moved　about　the　office；　hefting　a　paperweight　here；　admiring　a　picture　there。　He　could　see　Brisbane　growing　increasingly　irritated。　Good。　Let　the　man　stew。　Eventually；　he'd　say　something。
　〃Shall　we　get　on　with　it；　Captain？〃　Brisbane　pointedly　gestured　for　Custer　to　take　a　seat。
　Just　as　pointedly；　Custer　continued　circling　the　large　office。　Except　for　the　knickknacks　and　the　case　of　gems　on　the　desk　and　the　paintings　on　the　walls；　the　office　looked　bare；　save　for　one　wall　that　contained　shelving　and　a　closet。
　〃Mr。　Brisbane；　I　understand　you're　the　Museum's　general　counsel？〃
　〃That's　right。〃
　〃An　important　position。〃
　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　it　is。〃
　Custer　moved　toward　the　shelves；　examined　a　mother…of…pearl　fountain　pen　displayed　on　one　of　them。　〃I　understand　your　feelings　of　invasion　here；　Mr。　Brisbane。〃
　〃That's　reassuring。〃
　〃To　a　certain　extent；　you　feel　it's　your　place。　You　feel　protective　of　the　Museum。〃
　〃I　do。〃
　Custer　nodded；　his　gaze　moving　along　the　shelf　to　an　antique　Chinese　snuffbox　set　with　stones。　He　picked　it　up。　〃Naturally；　you　don't　like　a　bunch　of　policemen　barging　in　here。〃
　〃Frankly；　I　don't。　I've　told　you　as　much　several　times　already。　That's　a　very　valuable　snuffbox；　Captain。〃
　Custer　returned　it；　picked　up　something　else。　〃I　imagine　this　whole　thing's　been　rather　hard　on　you。　First；　there　was　the　discovery　of　the　skeletons　left　by　that　nineteenth…century　serial　killer。　Then　there　was　that　letter　discovered　in　the　Museum's　collections。　Very　unpleasant。〃
　〃The　adverse　publicity　could　have　easily　harmed　the　Museum。〃
　〃Then　there　was　that　curator…？〃
　〃Nora　Kelly。〃
　Custer　noted　a　new　tone　creeping　into　Brisbane's　voice：　dislike；　disapproval；　perhaps　a　sense　of　injury。
　〃The　same　one　who　found　the　skeletons…and　the　hidden　letter；　correct？　You　didn't　like　her　working　on　this　case。　Worried　about　adverse　publicity；　I　suppose。〃
　〃I　thought　she　should　be　doing　her　research。　That's　what　she　was　being　paid　to　do。〃
　〃You　didn't　want　her　helping　the　police？〃
　〃Naturally；　I　wanted　her　to　do　what　she　could　to　help　the　police。　I　just　didn't　want　her　neglecting　her　museum　duties。〃
　Custer　nodded　sagely。　〃Of　course。　And　then　she　was　chased　in　the　Archives；　almost　killed。　By　the　Surgeon。〃　He　moved　to　a　nearby　bookshelf。　The　only　books　it　contained　were　half　a　dozen　fat　legal　tomes。　Even　their　bindings　managed　to　look　stultifyingly　dull。　He　tapped　his　finger　on　a　spine。　〃You're　a　lawyer？〃
　〃General　counsel　usually　means　lawyer。〃
　This　bounced　off　Custer　without　leaving　a　dent。　〃I　see。　Been　here　how　long？〃
　〃A　little　over　two　years。〃
　〃Like　it？〃
　〃It's　a　very　interesting　place　to　work。　Now　look；　I　thought　we　were　going　to　talk　about　getting　your　men　out　of　here。〃
　〃Soon。〃　Custer　turned。　〃Visit　the　Archives　much？〃
　〃Not　so　much。　More；　lately；　of　course；　with　all　the　activity。〃
　〃I　see。　Interesting　place；　the　Archives。〃　He　turned　briefly　to　see　the　effect　of　this　observation　on　Brisbane。　The　eyes。　Watch　the　eyes。
　〃I　suppose　some　find　it　so。〃
　〃But　not　you。〃
　〃Boxes　of　paper　and　moldy　specimens　don't　interest　me。〃
　〃And　yet　you　visited　there〃…Custer　consulted　his　notebook…〃let's　see；　no　less　than　eight　times　in　the　last　ten　days。〃
　〃I　doubt　it　was　that　often。　On　Museum　business；　in　any　case。〃
　〃In　any　case。〃　He　looked　shrewdly　back　at　Brisbane。　〃The　Archives。　Where　the　body　of　Puck　was　found。　Where　Nora　Kelly　was　chased。〃
　〃You　mentioned　her　already。〃
　〃And　then　there's　Smithback；　that　annoying　reporter？〃
　〃Annoying　is　an　understatement。〃
　〃Didn't　want　him　around；　did　you？　Well；　who　would？〃
　〃My　thinking　exactly。　You've　heard；　of　course；　how　he　impersonated　a　security　officer？　Stole　Museum　files？〃
　〃I've　heard；　I've　heard。　Fact　is；　we're　looking　for　the　man；　but　he　seems　to　have　disappeared。　You　wouldn't　know　where　he　was；　by　any　chance；　would　you？〃　He　added　a　faint　emphasis　to　this　last　phrase。
　〃Of　course　not。〃
　〃Of　course　not。〃　Custer　returned　his　attention　to　the　gems。　He　stroked　the　glass　case　with　a　fat　finger。　〃And　then　there's　that　FBI　agent；　Pendergast。　The　one　who　was　attacked。　Also　very　annoying。〃
　Brisbane　remained　silent。
　〃Didn't　much　like　him　around　either…eh；　Mr。　Brisbane？〃
　〃We　had　enough　policemen　crawling　over　the　place。　Why　pound　it　with　the　FBI？　And　speaking　of　policemen　crawling　around…〃
　〃It's　just　that　I　find　it　very　curious；　Mr。　Brisbane　。　。　。〃　Custer　let　the　sentence　trail　off。
　〃What　do　you　find　curious；　Captain？〃
　There　was　a　motion　in　the　hallway　outside；　then　the　door　opened　abruptly。　A　police　sergeant　entered；　dusty；　wide…eyed；　sweating。
　〃Captain！〃　he　gasped。　〃We　were　interviewing　this　woman　just　now；　a　curator；　and　she　locked…〃
　Custer　looked　at　the　man…O'Grady；　his　name　was…reprovingly。　〃Not　now；　Sergeant。　Can't　you　see　I'm　conducting　a　conversation　here？〃
　〃But…〃
　〃You　heard　the　captain；〃　Noyes　interjected；　propelling　the　protesting　sergeant　toward　the　door。
　Custer　waited　until　the　door　closed　again；　then　turned　back　to　Brisbane。　〃I　find　it　curious　how　very　interested　you've　been　in　this　case；〃　he　said。
　〃It's　my　job。〃
　〃I　know　that。　You're　a　very　dedicated　man。　I've　also　noticed　your　dedication　in　human　resources　matters。　Hiring；　firing　。　。　。〃
　〃That's　correct。〃
　〃Reinhart　Puck；　for　example。〃
　〃What　about　him？〃
　Custer　consulted　his　notebook　again。　〃Why　exactly　did　you　try　to　fire　Mr。　Puck；　just　two　days　before　his　murder？〃
　Brisbane　started　to　say　something；　then　hesitated。　A　new　thought　seemed　to　have　occurred　to　him。
　〃Strange　timing　there；　wouldn't　you　agree；　Mr。　Brisbane？〃
　The　man　smiled　thinly。　〃Captain；　I　felt　the　position　was　extraneous。　The　Museum　is　having　financial　difficulties。　And　Mr。　Puck　had　been　。　。　。　well；　he　had　not　been　cooperative。　Of　course；　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　murder。〃
　〃But　they　wouldn't　let　you　fire　him；　would　they？〃
　〃He'd　been　with　the　Museum　over　twenty…five　years。　They　felt　it　might　affect　morale。〃
　〃Must've　made　you　angry；　being　shot　down　like　that。〃
　Brisbane's　smile　froze　in　place。　〃Captain；　I　hope　you're　not　suggesting　I　had　anything　to　do　with　the　murder。〃
　Custer　raised　his　eyebrows　in　mock　astonishment。　〃Am　I？〃
　〃Since　I　assume　you're　asking　a　rhetorical　question；　I　won't　bother　to　answer　it。〃
　Custer　smiled。　He　didn't　know　what　a　rhetorical　question　was；　but　he　could　see　that　his　questions　were　finding　their　mark。　He　gave　the　gem　case　another　stroke；　then　glanced　around。　He'd　covered　the　office；　all　that　remained　was　the　closet。　He　strolled　over；　put　his　hand　on　the　handle；　paused。
　〃But　it　did　make　you　angry？　Being　contradicted　like　that；　I　mean。〃
　〃No　one　is　pleased　to　be　countermanded；〃　Brisbane　replied　icily。　〃The　man　was　an　anachronism；　his　work　habits　clearly　inefficient。　Look　at　that　typewriter　he　insisted　on　using　for　all　his　correspondence。〃
　〃Yes。　The　typewriter。　The　one　the　murderer　used　to　write　one…make　that　two…notes。　You　knew　about　that　typewriter；　I　take　it？〃
　〃Everybody　did。　The　man　was　infamous　for　refusing　to　allow　a　puter　terminal　on　his　desk；　refusing　to　use　e…mail。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Custer　nodded；　opened　the　closet。
　As　if　on　cue；　an　old…fashioned　black　derby　hat　fell　out；　bounced　across　the　floor；　and　rolled　in　circles　until　it　finally　came　to　rest　at　Custer's　feet。
　Custer　looked　down　at　it　in　astonishment。　It　couldn't　have　happened　more　perfectly　if　this　had　been　an　Agatha　Christie　murder　mystery。　This　kind　of　thing　just　didn't　happen　in　real　policework。　He　could　hardly　believe　it。
　He　looked　up　at　Brisbane；　his　eyebrows　arching　quizzically。
　Brisbane　looked　first　confounded；　then　flustered；　then　angry。
　〃It　was　for　a　costume　party　at　the　Museum；〃　the　lawyer　said。　〃You　can　check　for　yourself。　Everyone　saw　me　in　it。　I've　had　it　for　years。〃
　Custer　poked　his　head　into　the　closet；　rummaged　around；　and　removed　a　black　umbrella；　tightly　furled。　He　brought　it　out；　stood　it　up　on　its　point；　then　released　it。　The　umbrella　toppled　over　beside　the　hat。　He　looked　up　again　at　Brisbane。　The　seconds　ticked　on。
　〃This　is　absurd！〃　exploded　Brisbane。
　〃I　haven't　said　anything；〃　said　Custer。　He　looked　at　Noyes。　〃Did　you　say　anything？〃
　〃No；　sir；　I　didn't　say　anything。〃
　〃So　what　exactly；　Mr。　Brisbane；　is　absurd？〃
　〃What　you're　thinking…〃　The　man　could　hardly　get　out　the　words。　〃That　I'm　。　。　。　that；　you　know　。　。　。　Oh；　this　is　perfectly　ridiculous！〃
　Custer　placed　his　hands　behind　his　back。　He　came　forward　slowly；　one　step　after　another；　until　he　reached　the　desk。　And　then；　very　deliberately；　he　leaned　over　it。
　〃What　am　I　thinking；　Mr。　Brisbane？〃　he　asked　quietly。
　
　THREE
　　
　THE　ROLLS　ROCKETED　up　Riverside；　their　driver　weaving　expertly　through　the　lines　of　traffic；　threading　the　big　vehicle　through　impossibly　narrow　gaps；　sometimes　forcing　opposing　cars　onto　the　curb。　It　was　after　eleven　P。M。；　and　the　traffic　was　beginning　to　thin　out。　But　the　curbs　of　Riverside　and　the　side　streets　that　led　away　from　it　remained　pletely　jammed　with　parked　cars。
　The　car　swerved　onto　131st　Street；　slowing　abruptly。　And　almost　immediately…no　more　than　half　a　dozen　cars　in　from　Riverside…Nora　spotted　it：　a　silver　Ford　Taurus；　New　York　plate