ss.iftomorrowcomes-第37部分

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　Seated　in　the　office　were　three　of　the　agency's　top　investigators：　David　Swift；　Robert　Schiffer；　and　Jerry　Davis。
　
　〃You've　all　read　the　report　on　the　Bellamy　burglary；〃　Reynolds　said；　〃but　something　new　has　been　added。　It　turns　out　that　Lois　Bellamy　is　a　cousin　of　the　police　missioner's。　He's　raising　holy　hell。〃
　
　〃What　are　the　police　doing？〃　Davis　asked。
　
　〃Hiding　from　the　press。　Can't　blame　them。　The　investigating　officers　acted　like　the　Keystone　Kops。　They　actually　talked　to　the　burglar　they　caught　in　the　house　and　let　her　get　away。〃
　
　〃Then　they　should　have　a　good　description　of　her；〃　Swift　suggested。
　
　〃They　have　a　good　description　of　her　nightgown；〃　Reynolds　retorted　witheringly。　〃They　were　so　goddamned　impressed　with　her　figure　that　their　brains　melted。　They　don't　even　know　the　color　of　her　hair。　She　wore　some　kind　of　curler　cap；　and　her　face　was　covered　with　a　mudpack。　Their　description　is　of　a　woman　somewhere　in　her　middle　twenties；　with　a　fantastic　ass　and　tits。　There's　not　one　single　clue。　We　have　no　information　to　go　on。　Nothing。〃
　
　Daniel　Cooper　spoke　for　the　first　time。　〃Yes；　we　have。〃
　
　They　all　turned　to　look　at　him；　with　varying　degrees　of　dislike。
　
　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃　Reynolds　asked
　
　〃I　know　who　she　is。〃
　
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　When　Cooper　had　read　the　memo　the　morning　before；　he　had　decided　to　take　a　look　at　the　Bellamy　house；　as　a　logical　first　step。　To　Daniel　Cooper；　logic　was　the　orderliness　of　God's　mind；　the　basic　solution　to　every　problem；　and　to　apply　logic；　one　always　started　at　the　beginning。　Cooper　drove　out　to　the　Bellamy　estate　in　Long　Island；　took　one　look　at　it；　and；　without　getting　out　of　his　car；　turned　around　and　drove　back　to　Manhattan。　He　had　learned　all　he　needed　to　know。　The　house　was　isolated；　and　there　was　no　public　transportation　nearby；　which　meant　that　the　burglar　could　have　reached　the　house　only　by　car。
　
　He　was　explaining　his　reasoning　to　the　men　assembled　in　Reynolds's　office。　〃Since　she　probably　would　have　been　reluctant　to　use　her　own　car；　which　could　have　been　traced；　the　vehicle　either　had　to　be　stolen　or　rented。　I　decided　to　try　the　rental　agencies　first。　I　assumed　that　she　would　have　rented　the　car　in　Manhattan；　where　it　would　be　easier　for　her　to　cover　her　trail。〃
　
　Jerry　Davis　was　not　impressed。　〃You've　got　to　be　kidding；　Cooper。　There　must　be　thousands　of　cars　a　day　rented　in　Manhattan。〃
　
　Cooper　ignored　the　interruption。　〃All　car…rental　operations　are　puterized。　Relatively　few　cars　are　rented　by　women。　I　checked　them　all　out。　The　lady　in　question　went　to　Budget　Rent　a　Car　at　Pier　Sixty…one　on　West　Twenty…third　Street；　rented　a　Chevy　Caprice　at　eight　P。M。　the　night　of　the　burglary；　and　returned　it　to　the　office　at　two　A。M。〃
　
　〃How　do　you　know　it　was　the　getaway　car？〃　Reynolds　asked　skeptically。
　
　Cooper　was　getting　bored　with　the　stupid　questions。　〃I　checked　the　elapsed　mileage。　It's　thirty…two　miles　to　the　Lois　Bellamy　estate　and　another　thirty…two　miles　back。　That　checks　exactly　with　the　odometer　on　the　Caprice。　The　car　was　rented　in　the　name　of　Ellen　Branch。〃
　
　〃A　phony；〃　David　Swift　surmised。
　
　〃Right。　Her　real　name　is　Tracy　Whitney。〃
　
　They　were　all　staring　at　him。　〃How　the　hell　do　you　know　that？〃　Schiffer　demanded。
　
　〃She　gave　a　false　name　and　address；　but　she　had　to　sign　a　rental　agreement。　I　took　the　original　down　to　One　Police　Plaza　and　had　them　run　it　through　for　fingerprints。　They　matched　the　prints　of　Tracy　Whitney。　She　served　time　at　the　Southern　Louisiana　Penitentiary　for　Women。　If　you　remember；　I　talked　to　her　about　a　year　ago　about　a　stolen　Renoir。〃
　
　〃I　remember；〃　Reynolds　nodded。　〃You　said　then　that　she　was　innocent。〃
　
　〃She　was…　then。　She's　not　innocent　anymore。　She　pulled　the　Bellamy　job。〃
　
　The　little　bastard　had　done　it　again！　And　he　had　made　it　seem　so　simple。　Reynolds　tried　not　to　sound　grudging。　〃That's…　that's　fine　work；　Cooper。　Really　fine　work。　Let's　nail　her。　We'll　have　the　police　pick　her　up　and…〃
　
　〃On　what　charge？〃　Cooper　asked　mildly。　〃Renting　a　car？　The　police　can't　identify　her；　and　there's　not　a　shred　of　evidence　against　her。〃
　
　〃What　are　we　supposed　to　do？〃　Schiffer　asked。　〃Let　her　walk　away　scot…free？〃
　
　〃This　time；　yes；〃　Cooper　said。　〃But　I　know　who　she　is　now。　She'll　try　something　again。　And　when　she　does；　I'll　catch　her。〃
　
　The　meeting　was　finally　over。　Cooper　desperately　wanted　a　shower。　He　took　out　a　little　black　book　and　wrote　in　it　very　carefully：　TRACY　WHITNEY。
　
　
　
　BOOK　THREE
　Chapter　20
　
　
　
　It's　time　to　begin　my　new　life；　Tracy　decided。　But　what　kind　of　life？　I've　gone　from　an　innocent；　naive　victim　to　a。。。　what？　A　thief…　that's　what。　She　thought　of　Joe　Romano　and　Anthony　Orsatti　and　Perry　Pope　and　Judge　Lawrence。　No。　An　avenger。　That's　what　I've　bee。　And　an　adventuress；　perhaps。　She　had　outwitted　the　police；　two　professional　con　artists；　and　a　double…crossing　jeweler。　She　thought　of　Ernestine　and　Amy　and　felt　a　pang。　On　an　impulse；　Tracy　went　to　F。A。O。　Schwarz　and　bought　a　puppet　theater；　plete　with　half　a　dozen　characters；　and　had　it　mailed　to　Amy。　The　card　read：　SOME　NEW　FRIENDS　FOR　YOU。　MISS　YOU。　LOVE　TRACY。
　
　Next　she　visited　a　furrier　on　Madison　Avenue　and　bought　a　blue　fox　boa　for　Ernestine　and　mailed　it　with　a　money　order　for　two　hundred　dollars。　The　card　simply　read：　THANKS；　ERNIE。　TRACY。
　
　All　my　debts　are　paid　now；　Tracy　thought。　It　was　a　good　feeling。　She　was　free　to　go　anywhere　she　liked；　do　anything　she　pleased。
　
　She　celebrated　her　independence　by　checking　into　a　Tower　Suite　in　The　Helmsley　Palace　Hotel。　From　her　forty…seventh…floor　living　room；　she　could　look　down　at　St。　Patrick's　Cathedral　and　see　the　George　Washington　Bridge　in　the　distance。　Only　a　few　miles　in　another　direction　was　the　dreary　place　she　had　recently　lived　in。　Never　again；　Tracy　swore。
　
　She　opened　the　bottle　of　champagne　that　the　management　had　sent　up　and　sat　sipping　it；　watching　the　sun　set　over　the　skyscrapers　of　Manhattan。　By　the　time　the　moon　had　risen；　Tracy　had　made　up　her　mind。　She　was　going　to　London。　She　was　ready　for　all　the　wonderful　things　life　had　to　offer。　I've　paid　my　dues；　Tracy　thought。　I　deserve　some　happiness。
　
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　She　lay　in　bed　and　turned　on　the　late　television　news。　Two　men　were　being　interviewed。　Boris　Melnikov　was　a　short；　stocky　Russian；　dressed　in　an　ill…fitting　brown　suit；　and　Pietr　Negulesco　was　his　opposite；　tall　and　thin　and　elegant…looking。　Tracy　wondered　what　the　two　men　could　possibly　have　in　mon。
　
　〃Where　is　the　chess　match　going　to　be　held？〃　the　news　anchorman　asked。
　
　〃At　Sochi；　on　the　beautiful　Black　Sea；〃　Melnikov　replied。
　
　〃You　are　both　international　grand　masters；　and　this　match　has　created　quite　a　stir；　gentlemen。　In　your　previous　matches　you　have　taken　the　title　from　each　other；　and　your　last　one　was　a　draw。　Mr。　Negulesco；　Mr。　Melnikov　currently　holds　the　title。　Do　you　think　you　will　be　able　to　take　it　away　from　him　again？〃
　
　〃Absolutely；〃　the　Romanian　replied。
　
　〃He　has　no　chance；〃　the　Russian　retorted。
　
　Tracy　knew　nothing　about　chess；　but　there　was　an　arrogance　about　both　men　that　she　found　distasteful。　She　pressed　the　remote…control　button　that　turned　off　the　television　set　and　went　to　sleep。
　
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　Early　the　following　morning　Tracy　stopped　at　a　travel　agency　and　reserved　a　suite　on　the　Signal　Deck　of　the　Queen　Elizabeth　2。　She　was　as　excited　as　a　child　about　her　first　trip　abroad；　and　spent　the　next　three　days　buying　clothes　and　luggage。
　
　On　the　morning　of　the　sailing　Tracy　hired　a　limousine　to　drive　her　to　the　pier。　When　she　arrived　at　Pier　90；　Berth　3；　at　West　Fifty…fifth　and　Twelfth　Avenue；　where　the　QE　II　was　docked；　it　was　crowded　with　photographers　and　television　reporters；　and　for　a　moment；　Tracy　was　panic…stricken。　Then　she　realized　they　were　interviewing　the　two　men　posturing　at　the　foot　of　the　gangplank…　Melnikov　and　Negulesco；　the　international　grand　masters。　Tracy　brushed　past　them；　showed　her　passport　to　a　ship's　officer　at　the　gangplank；　and　walked　up　onto　the　ship。　On　deck；　a　steward　looked　at　Tracy's　ticket　and　directed　her　to　her　stateroom。　It　was　a　lovely　suite；　with　a　private　terrace。　It　had　been　ridiculously　expensive；　but　Tracy　decided　it　was　going　to　be　worth　it。
　
　She　unpacked　and　then　wandered　along　the　corridor。　In　almost　every　cabin　there　were　farewell　parties　going　on；　with　laughter　and　champagne　and　conversation。　She　felt　a　sudden　ache　of　loneliness。　There　was　no　one　to　see　her　off；　no　one　for　her　to　care　about；　no　one　who　cared　about　her。　That's　not　true；　Tracy　told　herself。　Big　Bertha　wants　me。　And　she　laughed　aloud。
　
　She　made　her　way　up　to　the　Boat　Deck　and　had　no　idea　of　the　admiring　glances　of　the　men　and　the　envious　stares　of　the　women　cast　her　way。
　
　Tracy　heard　the　sound　of　a　deep…throated　boat　whistle　and　calls　of　〃All　ashore　who's　going　ashore；〃　and　she　was　filled　with　a　sudden　excitement。　She　was　sailing　into　a　pletely　unknown　future。　She　felt　the　huge　ship　shudder　as　the　tugs　started　to　pull　it　out　of　the　harbor；　and　she　stood　among　the　passengers　on　the　Boat　Deck；　watching　the　Statue　of　Liberty　slide　out　of　sight；　and　then　she　went　exploring。
　
　The　QE　II　was　a　city；　more　than　nine　hundred　feet　long　and　thirteen　stories　high。　It　had　four　restaurants；　six　bars；　two　ballrooms；　two　nightclubs；　and　a　〃Golden　Door　Spa　at　Sea。〃　There　were　scores　of　shops；　four　swimming　pools；　a　gymnasium；　a　golf　driving　range；　a　jogging　track。　I　may　never　want　to　leave　the　ship；　Tracy　marveled。
　
　**********
　
　She　had　reserved　a　table　upstairs　in　the　Princess　Grill；　which　was　smaller　and　more　elegant　than　the　main　dining　room。　She　barely　had　been　seated　when　a　familiar　voice　said；　〃Well；　hello　there！〃
　
　She　looked　up；　and　there　stood　Tom　Bowers；　the　bogus　FBI　man。　Oh；　no。　I　don't　deserve　this；　Tracy　thought。
　
　〃What　a　pleasant　surprise。　Do　you　mind　if　I　join　you？〃
　
　〃Very　much。〃
　
　He　slid　into　the　chair　across　from　her　and　gave　her　an　engaging　smile。　〃We　might　as　well　be　friends。　After　all；　we're　both　here　for　the　same　reason；　aren't　we？〃
　
　Tracy　had　no　idea　what　he　was　talking