alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第40部分

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f；　and　at　the　end　of　that　time　if　he　hadn't　made　it　he　was　to　take　his　place　in　the　factory。　His　first　manager　was　as　corrupt　as　they　e　and　Johnny　literally　kicked　him　out　at　the　end　of　a　year。　So　I　took　over。　I'd　newly　retired；　I'd　time　on　my　hands；　I'd　a　very　strong　vested　interest　in　his　well…being　apart　from　the　fact　that　he　was　my　son…and；　quite　frankly；　I'd　begun　to　see　that　he　really　was　going　to　get　to　the　very　top。〃　He　broke　off　there…so　I　took　the　opportunity　to　interrupt。
　
　〃Zagero　or　Levin。　Which　is　it？〃
　
　〃Zagero；〃　the　elder　man　answered。
　
　〃Why　the　Levin？〃
　
　〃Some　state　and　national　boxing　missions　refuse　to　permit　a　close　relative　to　be　either　manager　or　second。　Especially　second。　So　I　used　an　alias。　A　practice　by　no　means　unmon；　and　officially　winked　at。　A　harmless　deception。〃
　
　〃Not　so　harmless；〃　I　said　grimly。　〃It　was　one　of　the　worst　acting　performances　I've　ever　seen；　and　that　was　one　of　the　primary　reasons　for　my　suspecting　your　son　and；　in　turn；　for　Corazzini　and　Smallwood　getting　away　with　what　they　did。　Had　you　e　clean　earlier　on；　I　would　have　known　that　they　were　bound；　even　in　the　absence　of　all　possible　evidence；　to　be　the　guilty　men。　But　with　Solly　Levin…I'll　find　it　very　difficult　to　think　of　you　as　Mr　Zagero；　I'm　afraid…with　Solly　Levin　sticking　out　like　a　sore　thumb　as　an　obvious　phony…well；　I　just　couldn't　leave　you　two　out　of　the　list　of　suspects。〃
　
　〃I　obviously　modelled　myself　on　the　wrong　person…or　type　of　person；〃　Levin　said　wryly。　〃Johnny　ribbed　me　about　it　all　the　time。　I'm　deeply　sorry　for　any　trouble　we　may　have　caused；　Or　Mason。　I　honestly　never　looked　at　it　from　your　point　of　view；　never　realised　the　dangers　involved　in　maintaining　the　impersonation…if　you　could　call　it　that。　Please　forgive　me。〃
　
　〃Nothing　to　forgive；〃　I　said　bitterly。　〃A　hundred　to　one　I'd　have　found　some　other　way　of　messing　things　up。〃
　
　Shortly　after　five　o'clock　in　the　evening　Corazzini　stopped　the　tractor…but　he　didn't　stop　the　engine。　He　came　down　from　the　driver's　seat　and　walked　round　to　the　cabin；　pushing　the　searchlight　slightly　to　one　side。　He　had　to　shout　to　make　himself　heard　above　the　roar　of　the　tractor　and　the　high　ululating　whine　of　the　still…strengthening　blizzard。
　
　〃Half…way；　boss。　Thirty…two　miles　on　the　clock。〃
　
　〃Thank　you。〃　We　couldn't　see　Smallwood；　but　we　could　see　the　tip　of　his　gun　barrel　protruding　menacingly　into　the　searchlight's　beam。　〃The　end　of　the　line；　Dr　Mason。　You　and　your　friends　will　please　get　down。〃
　
　There　was　nothing　else　for　it。　Stiffly；　numbly；　I　climbed　down；　took　a　couple　of　steps　towards　Smallwood；　stopped　as　the　pistol　steadied　unwaveringly　on　my　chest。
　
　〃You'll　be　with　your　friends　in　a　few　hours；〃　I　told　Smallwood。　〃You　could　leave　us　a　little　food；　a　portable　stove　and　tent。　Is　that　too　much　to　ask？〃
　
　〃It　is。〃
　
　〃Nothing？　Nothing　at　all？〃
　
　〃You're　wasting　your　time；　Dr　Mason。　And　it　grieves　me　to　see　you　reduced　to　begging。〃
　
　〃The　dog　sledge；　then。　We　don't　even　want　the　dogs。　But　neither　Mahler　nor　Miss　LeGarde　can　walk。〃
　
　〃You're　wasting　your　time。〃　He　turned　his　attention　to　the　sledge。　〃Everybody　off；　I　said。　Did　you　hear　me；　Levin？　Get　down！〃
　
　〃It's　my　legs。〃　In　the　harsh　glare　of　the　searchlight　we　could　see　the　lines　of　pain　deep…etched　round　Levin's　eyes　and　mouth；　and　I　wondered　how　long　he　had　been　sitting　there　suffering；　saying　nothing。　〃I　think　they're　frozen　or　sleeping　or　something。〃
　
　〃Get　down！〃　Smallwood　repeated　sharply。
　
　〃In　a　moment。〃　Levin　swung　one　of　his　legs　over　the　edge　of　the　sledge；　his　teeth　bared　with　the　effort。　〃I　don't　seem　to　be　able…〃
　
　〃Maybe　a　bullet　in　one　of　your　legs　will　help；〃　Smallwood　said　unemotionally。　〃To　get　the　feeling　back。〃
　
　I　didn't　know　whether　he　meant　it　or　not。　I　didn't　think　so　…gratuitous　violence　wasn't　in　character　for　this　man；　I　couldn't　see　him　killing　or　wounding　without　sound　reason。　But　Zagero　thought　differently。　He　advanced　within　six　feet　of　Smallwood。
　
　〃Don't　touch　him；　Smallwood；〃　he　said　warningly。
　
　〃No？〃　The　rising　inflection　was　a　challenge　accepted；　and　Smallwood　went　on　flatly：　〃I'd　snuff　you　and　him　like　a　candle。〃
　
　〃No！〃　Zagero　said；　softly　and　savagely；　the　words　carrying　clearly　in　a　sudden　lull　in　the　wind。　〃Lay　a　finger　on　my　old　man；　Smallwood；　and　I'll　get　you　and　break　your　neck　like　a　rotten　carrot　if　you　empty　the　entire　magazine　into　me。〃　I　looked　at　him　as　he　crouched　there　like　a　great　cat；　toes　digging　into　the　frozen　snow；　fists　clenched　and　slightly　in　advance　of　him；　ready　for　the　explosive　leap　that　would　take　him　across　that　tiny　space　in　a　split　second　of　time　and　I　believed　he　could　do　exactly　what　he　said。　So；　too；　I　suspected；　did　Smallwood。
　
　〃Your　old。　man？〃　he　inquired。　〃Your　father？〃
　
　Zagero　nodded。
　
　〃Good。〃　Smallwood　showed　no　surprise。　〃Into　the　tractor　cabin　with　him；　Zagero。　We'll　exchange　him　for　the　German　girl。　Nobody　cares　about　her。〃
　
　His　point　was　clear。　I　couldn't　see　how　we　could　offer　any　danger　to　Smallwood　and　Corazzini　now；　but　Smallwood　was　a　nan　who　guarded　even　against　impossibilities：　Levin　would　be　a　far　better　surety　for　Zagero's　conduct　than　Helene。
　
　Levin　half…walked；　was　half…carried　into　the　tractor　cabin。　With　Corazzini　and　Smallwood　both　armed；　resistance　was　hopeless：　Smallwood　had　us　summed　up　to　a　nicety。　He　knew　we　were　desperate　men；　that　we　would　fling　ourselves　on　him　and　his　gun　　a　moment　of　desperate　emergency：　but　he　also　knew　that　we　weren't　so　desperate　as　to　mit　suicide　when　no　lives　were　in　mediate　danger。
　
　When　Levin　was　inside；　Smallwood　turned　to　the　young　＇German　girl　seated　opposite　him　in　the　cabin。　〃Out！〃
　
　It　was　then　that　it　happened；　with　the　stunning　speed　and　inevitability　that　violent　tragedy；　viewed　in　retrospect；　always　seems　to　possess。　I　thought　perhaps　that　it　was　some　calculated　plan；　a　last…minute　desperate　effort　to　save　us　that　made　Helene　Fleming　act　as　she　did；　but　I　found　out　later　that　she　had　merely　been　driven　and　goaded　into　a　pain…filled　unreasoning　anger　and　resentment　and　despair　by　the　agony　she　had　suffered　in　her　shoulder　from　having　had　her　arms　bound　for　so　many　long　hours　in　the　cruel　jolting　disfort　of　the　tractor　cabin。
　
　As　she　passed　by　Smallwood　she　stumbled；　he　put　up　an　arm　either　to　help　her　or　ward　her　off；　and　before　he　had　realised　what　was　happening…it　must　have　been　the　last　quarter　from　which　he　expected　any　show　of　violence　or　resistance…she　kicked　out　blindly　and　knocked　the　gun　spinning　out　of　his　hand　to　land　in　the　snow　beneath。　Smallwood　sprang　after　it　like　a　cat…the　speed　was　unnecessary；　the　low　growl　of　warning　from　an　armed　Corazzini　put　paid　to　any　ideas　we　might　have　had　of　taking　advantage　of　the　situation…picked　up　the　gun　and　whirled　round；　the　gun　lining　up　on　Helene；　his　eyes　narrowed　to　slits　against　the　beam　of　the　searchlight；　his　face　twisted　into　an　unrecognisable　snarl；　the　lips　drawn　far　back　over　the　teeth。　I'd　been　wrong　once　more　about　Smallwood…he　could　kill　without　reason。
　
　〃Helene！〃　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　was　the　nearest　to　her；　and　her　voice　was　high…pitched；　almost　a　scream。　〃Look　out；　Helene！〃　She　plunged　forward　to　push　her　maid　to　one　side；　but　I　don't　think　Smallwood　even　saw　her：　he　was　mad　with　fury；　I　knew　he　was；　and　nothing　on　earth　was　going　to　stop　him　from　pressing　that　trigger。　The　bullet　caught　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　squarely　in　the　back　and　pitched　her　headlong　to　fall　face　down　in　the　frozen　snow。
　
　Already　Smallwood's　moment　of　uncontrollable　rage　was　spent　as　if　it　had　never　been。　He　said　not　another　word；　just　nodded　to　Corazzini　and　jumped　up　on　to　the　tail　of　the　tractor　cabin　to　keep　us　covered　with　searchlight　and　gun　as　Corazzini　gunned　the　motor；　engaged　gear　and　lumbered　off　into　the　darkness　to　the　west。　We　stood　in　a　forlorn　huddled　little　group　and　watched　the　train　pass　us　by；　the　tractor；　the　tractor　sled；　the　dog　sledge　and　finally　the　huskies　themselves；　running　on　the　loose　traces　astern。
　
　I　heard　Helene　murmur　something　to　herself；　and　when　I　bent　to　listen　she　was　saying　in　a　strange；　wondering　voice：　〃Helene。　She　called　me　'Helene'。〃　I　stared　at　her　as　if　she　were　mad；　glanced　down　at　the　dead　woman　at　my　feet　then　gazed　unseeingly　after　the　receding　lights　of　the　Citroen　until　both　the　lights　and　the　sound　had　faded　and　vanished　into　the　snow…filled　darkness　of　the　night。
　
　
　CHAPTER　ELEVEN…Friday　6　P。M。…Saturday　12。15　P。M。
　
　The　white　hell　of　that　night；　the　agony　of　the　bitter　dreadful　hours　that　followed…and　God　only　knows　how　many　hours　these　were　…is　a　memory　that　will　never　die。
　
　How　many　hours　did　we　stagger　and　lurch　after　that　tractor　like　drunk　or　dying　men…six　hours；　eight；　ten？　We　didn't　know；　we　shall　never　know。　Time　as　an　independent　system　of　measurement　ceased　to　exist：　each　second　was　an　interminable　unit　of　suffering；　of　freezing；　of　exhausted　marching；　each　minute　an　son　where　the　fire　in　our　aching　leg　muscles　fought　with　the　ice…cold　misery　of　hands　and　feet　and　faces　for　domination　in　our　minds；　each　hour　an　eternity　which　we　knew　could　never　end。　Not　one　of　us；　I　am　sure；　expected　to　live　through　that　night。
　
　The　thoughts；　the　emotions　of　these　hours　I　could　never　afterwards　recall。　Chagrin　there　was；　the　most　bitter　I　have　ever　known；　an　overwhelming　mortification　and　self…condemnation　that　I　had　all　along　been　deceived　with　such　childish　ease；　that　I　had　been　powerless　to　offer　any　hindrance　or　resistance　to　the　endless　resourcefulness　of　that　brilliant　little　man。　And　then　I　would　think　of　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg；　and　of　Margaret　bound　and　hostage　and　afraid　and　looking　at　Smallwood　in　the　dim　light　of　that　lurching　tractor　cabin；　looking　at　Smallwood　and　the　gun　in　Smallwood's　hand；　and　with　that　thought　anger　would　flood　in　to　supplant　the　chagrin；　a　consuming　hatred　and　a　fury　that　flamed　throughout　my　entire　being；　but　even　that　anger　wasn't　all　exclusive：　it　couldn't　be；　not　so　long　as　fear；　a　fear　such　as　I　had　never　before　known；　was　the　dominating　factor　in　my　mind。　And　it　was。
　
　It　was；　too；　I　should　think；　in　Zagero's　mind。　He　hadn't　spoken　a　word　since　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　had　d