thedestroyer.deathcheck-第16部分

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　　　〃It's　okay　with　me。〃
　〃Terrible。　This　should　be　outlawed。　Security　work　in　every　place　in　the　world　is　an　honored　profession　requiring　the　highest　of　abilities　and　courage　and　discipline。　And　they　put　you　here。　I　will　speak　to　Brewster　about　this。〃
　〃He　put　me　here。〃
　Stohrs　changed　the　subject。　〃I　came　to　invite　you　to　my　house　for　the　honor　of　a　game　with　you；　and　if　you　would　also　honor　me；　I　would　appreciate　your　pany　at　dinner。　I　had　mentioned　the　game　the　other　day　when　you　had　finished　with　those　motorcycle　swine；　but　you　probably　did　not　hear　me。〃
　〃Thanks　anyway；　I　have　a　date。〃
　〃So　soon？〃
　〃Well；　it's　sort　of　business。　One　of　the　staff。　Doctor　Hirshbloom。〃
　〃Ah；　Deborah。　Surprising。　She　rarely　sees　anyone。　Un　usual　when　you　consider　that　this　is　a　think　tank；　and
what　fills　the　tank　mostly　is　words　and　more　words。〃　He　seemed　charmed　by　his　joke。
　〃I'm　not　sure　what　this　is。〃
　〃Hah；　no　one　else　is　either。　I　like　you。　We　must　play。〃
　〃Thanks　again；　but　some　other　time。　I'm　on　my　way　to　see　someone　now。〃
　〃Ach。　Excuse　me；　most　assuredly。　The　invitation　is　open。〃
　Remo　thanked　him　again　and　shut　the　door。　He　dressed　in　a　pair　of　white　chinos　and　a　blue　sports　shirt。　His　two
suits　hung　in　the　bathroom；　the　closet　door　not　having　room　enough　to　open。
　Stohrs　was　waiting　downstairs。　He　was　apologetic。　He　had　not　wished　to　intrude　on　Remo　Pelham。　He　was　not　the　pushy　type　like　some　people。　He　was　not　the　pushy　type　for　the　mile　and　a　half　walk　to　the　circle　of　cottages。　He　made　that　clear　several　limes。
　〃You　see；　I　e　from　a　culture　that　appreciates　privacy；　just　as　it　appreciates　the　true　role　of　the　policeman。　You　have　violence　in　this　country　today　because　the　policeman　is　not　respected。　Order　is　not　respected。　Now；　in　my　country；　no　policeman　would　ever　be　forced　to　live　in　the　servants'　quarters　when　a　golf　instructor　lives　in　a　house。　Yes？〃
　〃Yes；　what？〃　asked　Remo；　noticing　how　the　night　came　unexpectedly　fast　for　the　summer。　Or　was　it　his　imagination；　or　even　worse；　the　losing　of　touch　with　time　and　senses　and　feeling。　He　did　a　toe　walk　so　smoothly　that　he　knew　Stohrs　did　not　notice　and　thus　reassured　himself　that　he　could　still　do　special　things　and　therefore　need　not　worry　about　his　senses。　It　was　the　night。
　〃Yes；　do　you　agree　with　me？〃
　〃Certainly；〃　Remo　said。　He　began　working　his　fingers；　in　a　dexterity　drill；　playing　speed。　You　separated　the　coordination　of　the　hands；　then　played　finger　tip　against　fingertip；　with　the　nails　of　the　hand　just　touching；　then　retreating。　Done　quickly　enough；　it　looked　like　nervous　praying。
　〃These　are　terrible　times　we　live　in。　No？〃；　〃It's　always　a　terrible　time。〃
　〃Not　always。　And　not　everywhere。〃
　〃You　could　say　that。〃
　〃You　must　like　this　place。　And　to　like　this　place　you　must　e　from　a　place　that　is　not　so　nice；　yes？〃
　〃Are　you　asking　me　where　I'm　from？〃
　〃No；　no。　Of　course　not。　I　mean　unless　you　wish　to　tell　me。〃
　〃I　don't　particularly。〃
　　　〃Good。　You　will　find　that　I　am　not　the　prying　type。　I　am　just　one　who　respects　excellence。　I　respected　your　chess　play。　Where　did　you　learn　to　play？〃
　〃From　Delphurm　Bresky；　a　lawyer　in　Jersey　City；〃　Remo　said；　making　up　a　name　he　knew　couldn't　exist。
　〃Then　you　are　from　Jersey　City。　A　wonderful　town。〃
　〃Jersey　City；　a　wonderful　town？〃
　〃Well；　it's　gone　down　since　that　wonderful　mayor　you　had。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃Francis　Hague。〃
　〃That　bum　was　a　dictator。〃
　〃Yes。　A　terrible　man。　You　worked　long　in　Jersey　City？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃A　short　tune？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Ah。　You　never　worked　there。　Well；　I　am　not　one　to　seek　a　person's　resume　the　first　time　I　meet　him。　Especially　not　someone　I　like　and　respect；　who　has　been　abused　by　the　powers　that　be。　I　am　here　only　to　offer　my　help。〃
　Remo　worked　the　shoulders　and　neck；　using　Stohrs　as　a　foil。　If　he　could　do　the　control　exercises　just　beneath　Stohrs'　level　of　awareness；　it　would　be　a　good　feedback　check。
　〃You　know；　there　are　some　civilizations　that　adore　men　of　violence。〃
　〃Yeah。　Most；〃　Remo　said。　〃The　others　bee　vassal　states。〃
　〃Right。　You　are　a　man　of　the　world；〃　Stohrs　said；　slapping　Remo's　back　in　joy。　It　was　unfortunate　that　Remo　at　the　time　was　doing　rapid　mental　jump　pushups　during　his　stroll。　Remo's　was　the　first　back　Stohrs　had　ever　slapped　that　slapped　back。
　〃You　look　surprised；〃　Remo　said。
　〃No。　Nothing。　I　just　thought　that　my　hand　hurt。〃
　〃That'll　happen　if　you　go　around　slapping　people　on　the　back。〃
　〃It　was　a　sign　of　respect。　It　is　terrible　today　that　we　do　not　have　respect　where　we　should　have　respect。　In　my　country；　we　always　have　respect。　That　is　what　makes　my　country　great。　Always　great；　no　matter　what。〃
　〃What　country　is　that？〃
　〃Switzerland。〃
　〃A　fine　country。　The　best　foreign　policy　in　the　world。〃
　〃Yes。　Its　mountains　are　its　foreign　policy。〃
　〃Very　well　put；〃　Remo　said。
　Stohrs　shrugged　it　off　as　a　nothing。
　〃Strange；〃　Remo　said；　〃but　mountains　act　as　barriers　and　water　as　a　conduit。　Look　at　England。　A　little　island　that　chose　not　to　use　its　water　as　a　barrier　but　as　a　vehicle　to　carry　empire。　Now；　they're　pretty　much　back　on　their　island。〃
　〃The　Britishers　are　overrated。〃
　〃They　did　pretty　well　at　one　time。　For　a　small　island。〃
　〃Well；〃　Stohrs　said；　his　voice　rising。　〃Well。　Who　the　hell　did　they　ever　beat？　Napoleon？　He　was　a　sick　man。　A　dying　man。　They　beat　him　when　he　was　dying。　No。　The　Britishers　get　others　to　fight　for　them。〃
　〃They　did　pretty　well　in　World　War　I　and　II。〃
　〃They　didn't　win　those　wars。〃
　〃They　didn't　lose　them。〃
　〃They　had　almost　nothing　to　do　with　them。　America　and　Russia　won　those　wars。　The　British　were　like　the　French；　little　toadies　currying　your　favors。　You　are　being　used　by　the　British。　They　laugh　at　you　behind　your　back。　Don't　you　see　that？〃
　　　〃I　was　never　aware　that　America　was　laughed　at。〃　
　〃Laughing　stock　of　the　world。　Of　course；　nothing　personal。〃
　〃Of　course　not；〃　Remo　said。　〃It　must　be　nice　to　e　from　a　country　protected　by　mountains；　a　country　that　neither　gives　aid　nor　receives　it；　a　country　whose　only　function　is　to　be　the　world's　counting　house。〃
　〃It's　a　nice　little　country；〃　Stohrs　said。　〃Not　a　great　country　but　a　nice　one。　1　am　proud　to　call　it　home。〃
　〃What　brings　you　here？〃
　〃This　is　a　lovely　job　and　place　to　work。　A　good　environment　for　me　to　raise　my　daughter。　Lovely。　That　is；　if　you　are　not　a　policeman；　no？〃
　〃No；〃　said　Remo　who　had　finished　his　mental　situps　and　now　saw　that　the　light　was　on　in　the　Hirshbloom　cottage。　〃Good　night　and　thank　you　for　walking　with　me。〃
　〃It's　an　honor。　I　respect　you。　Watch　your　step。　There　is　evil　here。　That　tragic　Hawkins'　accident。　I　am　glad　we　now　have　a　real　man　as　security　officer。
　〃Real　man？〃
　〃Yes。　I　do　not　like　to　dishonor　the　dead；　but　McCarthy　was　just。。。　well；　a　clerk。　You　need　a　man　for　the　job。　Good　night。　We　must　play　soon。〃
　〃We　will。〃
　And　Remo　would　not　see　him　again　until　he　would　defeat　him　at　the　chess　table　with　only　a　king　and　queen；　against　a　queen；　a　king；　two　knights；　a　rook　and　a　bishop。　It　would　be　a　brilliant　move；　one　that　no　chess　master　could　ever　perform　as　well。
　
CHAPTER　SEVENTEEN

　The　man　once　known　as　Dr。　Hans　Frichtmann　sat　in　one　of　the　foam…contoured　seats　of　the　Brewster　Forum　auditorium　watching　the　weekly　amateur　show。　They　changed　the　program　from　week　to　week。　Last　week；　it　was　Father　Boyle　on　guitar；　the　week　before　that；　Professor　Ferrante　in　elegiac　poetry。　They　never　called　it　an　amateur　show　and　at　first　had　attempted　to　sell　tickets。　The　first　week　they　sold　eight；　the　next　week　six；　and　then　they　stopped　charging。
　He　could　see　that　the　new　director　of　security　and　Dr。　Deborah　Hirshbloom　were　among　the　missing。　Well；　that　was　something。　It　was　undoubtedly　a　better　performance　than　Dr。　James　Ratchett；　his　magic；　and　now　his　hypnotism。
　He　was　frankly　worried。　The　business　with　the　motorcycle　hoodlums　was　one　thing。　But　how　had　he　escaped　the　fall　from　the　plane　and　managed　to　kill　Hawkins　in　the　process？　He　wished　only　that　his　job　were　finished。　That　he　could　leave　this　accursed　place。
　His　attention　was　brought　back　to　the　stage　by　Ratchett's　voice。
　Dr。　Schulter　was　sitting　in　a　chair　at　center　stage。　Ratchett's　lardy　body　was　frozen　before　the　seated　figure。　It　had　taken　six　minutes　to　put　Schulter　under；　and　the　boredom　of　moving　bodies　coughing　and　sighing　could　be　felt；　as　only　courtesy　tethered　the　forum　personnel　to　their　seats。
　〃Black　longing　pools　of　opalescent　nights　and　the　deepest　of　deep　escapes。　You　are　moving　down；　black…ward；　into　darkness　and　restful　slumber；〃　Ratchett's　voice　purred。　A　few　coughs　brought　a　haughty　condemning　glance　from　Ratchett　and　back　to　the　gibberish。　Strange　that　a　theoretical　chemist；　surrounded　by　great　psychiatrists　and　psychologists；　would　seek　to　entertain　them　with　hypnotism。　And　such　amateurish　hypnotism。
　Oh；　well。　The　dangers　of　espionage　this　decade　varied。　Death　by　boredom　was　a　possibility。　He　heard　Ratchett　call　for　a　return　to　horrible　times。　What　were　horrible　times？　Let's　see。　The　surrender　was　bad；　the　Russian　occupation　worse。　The　removing　of　testicles　from　trembling　men　with　forceps？　Not　bad　at　all；　especially　when　that　Jew　professor　stood　before　him。　The　Jew　professor　who　had　attempted　to　expel　him　from　medical　school　in　Hamburg　because　of　alleged　sadistic　practices。　What　was　wrong　with　sadism？　Really。　If　you　didn't　look　at　it　in　the　sloppy　Jewish　sentimentality；　or　through　the　rose…colored　filter　of　Jewdom's　whore　child；　Christian　ethics。　Sadism　was　good。　It　was　the　extension　of　natural　hostility；　to　a　point　where　it　had　its　own　meaning；　its　own　beauty。　The　Nazi　Party　knew　it。
　The　Nazi　party。　The　only　healthy；　honest　force　in　history。　And　the　way　these　scrawny；　hairy　youngsters　dared　call　the　American　government　fascist　and　Nazi。　How　dare　
　they？　The　American　government；　nothing　but　hypocritical　flotsam；　mealy…mouthing　its　way　through　history；　obsessed　with　domestic　well…being　and　international　public　opinion。　How　dare　they　call　that　Nazi？　He　could　show　them　NAZI。　They　should　see　NAZI！　They　should　see　that　Jewish　professor。　Why　didn't　that　Semitic　scum　scream？　That　was　the　bad　part。　He　didn't　scream。　Yes。　That　was　a　horrible　time。　Horrible。　As　on　stage。
　Sc