bl.necroscope2-第59部分

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　Peter　Keen　had　taken　the　shift　in　Clarke's　place；　driving　out　to　Harkley　House　and　relieving　Trevor　Jordan　of　the　job　of　keeping　Bodescu　under　observation。
　〃Nothing's　happening　up　there；〃　Jordan　had　whispered；　leaning　in　through　the　open　window　of　his　car；　handing　Keen　a　powerful　crossbow　with　a　hardwood　bolt。　〃There's　a　light　on　downstairs；　but　that's　all。　They're　all　in　there；　or　if　not　then　they　didn't　e　out　through　the　gate！　The　light　did　e　on　in　Bodescu's　attic　room　for　a　few　minutes；　then　went　out　again。　That　was　probably　him　getting　his　head　down。　Also；　I　felt　that　there　just　might　be　someone　probing　for　my　thoughts　but　that　lasted　for　only　a　moment。　Since　when　it's　been　quiet　as　the　proverbial　tomb。〃
　Keen　had　grinned；　however　nervously。　〃Except　we　know　that　not　every　tomb　is　quiet；　eh？〃
　Jordan　hadn't　found　it　funny。　〃Peter；　that's　a　really　weird　sense　of　humour　you've　got　there。〃　He　nodded　at　the　crossbow　in　Keen's　hand。　〃Do　you　know　how　to　use　that？　Here；　I'll　load　it　for　you。〃
　〃That's　OK；〃　Keen　nodded　affably。　〃I'll　manage　it　all　right。　But　if　you　want　to　do　me　a　real　favour；　just　make　sure　my　relief's　on　time　at　two　in　the　morning！〃
　Jordan　got　into　his　car　and　started　it；　trying　not　to　rev　the　engine。　〃This　makes　twelve　hours　out　of　twenty…four　for　you；　doesn't　it？　Son；　you're　a　glutton　for　punishment。　Keen　by　name；　and　all　that。　You　should　go　far　if　you　don't　kill　yourself　first。　Have　a　nice　night！〃　And　he'd　pulled　carefully　away　in　his　car；　only　turning　on　the　lights　when　he　was　a　hundred　yards　down　the　road。
　That　had　been　only　half　an　hour　ago　but　already　Keen　was　cursing　himself　for　his　big　mouth。　His　old　man　had　been　a　soldier。　〃Peter；〃　he'd　once　told　him；　〃never　volunteer。　If　they　need　volunteers；　that's　because　nobody　wants　the　job。〃　And　on　a　night　like　this　it　was　easy　to　understand　why。
　There　was　something　of　a　ground　mist　and　the　air　was　laden　with　moisture。　The　atmosphere　felt　greasy；　and　heavy　as　a　tangible　weight　on　Keen's　shoulders。　He　turned　up　his　collar；　lifted　infra…red　binoculars　to　his　eyes。　For　the　tenth　time　in　thirty　minutes　he　scanned　the　house。　Nothing。　The　house　was　warm；　which　showed　clearly　enough；　but　nothing　moved　in　there。　Or　the　movement　was　too　slight　to　detect。
　He　scanned　what　could　be　seen　of　the　grounds。　Again；　nothing…or　rather；　something！　Keen's　sweep　had　passed　over　a　hazy　blue　blur　of　warmth；　just　a　blob　of　body　heat　which　his　special　nite…lites　had　picked　up。　It　could　be　a　fox；　badger；　dog…or　a　man？　He　tried　to　find　it　again；　failed。　So。。。　had　he　seen　something；　or　hadn't　he？
　Something　buzzed　and　tingled　in　Keen's　head；　like　a　sudden　burst　of　electrical　current；　making　him　start　。
　Slimy　gibber…gobble　spying　babble…gabble　bastard！
　Keen　froze　stiff　as　a　board。　What　was　that？　What　the　hell　was　that？
　You're　going　to　die；　die；　die！　Ha；　ha；　ha！　Gibber…jabber；　gobble…gabble。。。　And　then　some　more　of　the　electrical　tingling。　And　silence。
　Jesus　Christ！　But　Keen　knew　without　further　inquiry　what　it　was：　his　unruly　talent。　For　a　moment　then；　just　for　a　few　seconds；　he'd　picked　up　another　mind。　A　mind　full　of　hate！
　〃Who？〃　Keen　said　out　loud；　staring　all　about；　ankledeep　in　swirling　mist。　〃What。。。？〃　Suddenly　the　night　was　full　of　menace。
　He'd　left　the　crossbow　in　his　car；　loaded　and　lying　on　the　front　seat。　The　red　Capri　was　parked　with…its　nose　in　a　field；　about　twenty…five　yards　away　along　the　road。　Keen　was　on　the　verge；　his　shoes；　socks　and　feet　already　soaking　from　walking　in　the　grass。　He　looked　at　Harkley　House；　standing　sinister　in　its　misty　grounds；　then　started　to　back　off　towards　the　car。　In　the　grounds　of　the　old　house；　something　loped　towards　the　open　gate。　Keen　saw　it　for　a　moment；　then　lost　it　in　the　shadows　and　the　mist。
　A　dog？　A　large　dog？　Darcy　Clarke　had　had　trouble　with　a　dog；　hadn't　he？
　Keen　backed　faster；　stumbled　and　almost　fell。　An　owl　hooted　somewhere　in　the　night。　Other　than　that　there　was　only　silence。　And　a　soft；　deliberate　padding…and　a　panting？…from　beyond　the　gate　just　across　the　road。　Keen　backed　faster　yet；　all　his　senses　alert；　his　nerves　starting　to　jump。　Something　was　ing；　he　could　feel　it。　And　not　just　a　dog。
　He　slammed　backwards　into　the　side　of　his　car；　drew　breath　in　an　audible；　grateful　gasp。　He　half　turned；　reached　in　through　the　open　window；　groped　with　his　hand　on　the　front　seat。　He　found　something；　drew　it　into　view　。　The　lignum　vitae　bolt…broken　in　two　halves…hanging　together　by　a　mere　splinter　of　wood！　Keen　shook　his　head　in　dumb　disbelief；　reached　into　the　car　again。　This　time　he　found　the　crossbow；　unloaded；　its　tough　metal　wings　bent　back　and　twisted　out　of　shape。
　Something　tall　and　black　flowed　out　of　the　shadows　right　up　to　him。　It　wore　a　cape　which；　at　the　last　moment；　it　threw　back。　Keen　looked　into　；a　face　which　wasn't　nearly　human。　He　tried　to　scream　but　his　throat　felt　like　sandpaper。
　The　thing　in　black　glared　at　Keen　and　its　lips　drew　back。　Its　teeth　were　hooked　together；　meshing　like　the　teeth　of　a　shark。　Keen　tried　to　run；　leap；　move；　but　couldn't；　his　feet　were　rooted　to　the　spot。　The　thing　in　black　raised　its　arm　in　a　swift　movement　and　something　gleamed　a　wet；　silvery　gleam　in　the　night。
　A　cleaver！
　
　
　Chapter　Thirteen
　When　Kyle　and　his　panions　got　back　to　lonesti　and　the　inn；　they　found　Irma　Dobresti　pacing　the　floor　of　their　suite；　nervously　massaging　her　long　hands。　Her　relief　when　she　saw　them　was　obvious。　Likewise　her　delight　when　they　told　her　the　operation　had　been　a　plete　success。　They　weren't　eager；　however；　to　detail　much　of　what　had　happened　in　the　foothills；　looking　at　their　drawn　faces；　she　was　wise　enough　not　to　pry。　They　might　tell　her　later；　in　their　own　time。
　〃So；〃　she　said；　after　they'd　had　a　drink；　〃the　job　is　done　here。　We　are　not　needing　to　stay　any　longer　in　lonesti。　It　is　ten…thirty…late；　I　know；　but　I　am　suggesting　we　go　now。　These　red　tape　dolts　will　arrive　soon。　Is　better　if　we　are　not　here。〃
　〃Red　tape？〃　Quint　looked　surprised。　〃I　didn't　know　you　used　that　term；　er；　over　here！〃
　〃Oh；　yes；〃　she　answered；　unsmiling。　〃Also　〃mie〃；　and　〃Zurich　Gnome〃；　and　〃Capitalist　dog〃！〃
　〃I　agree　with　Irma；〃　said　Kyle。　〃If　we　wait　we'll　only　be　obliged　to　brazen　it　out…or　tell　the　truth。　And　the　truth；　while　it　is　verifiable　in　the　long　term；　isn't　immediately　believable。　No；　I　can　see　all　kinds　of　problems　ing　up　if　we　stay　here。〃
　〃All　true。〃　She　nodded；　sighing　her　relief　that　the　Englishman　was　of　a　like　mind。　〃Later；　if　they　are　determined　to　talk　about　this；　they　can　contact　me　in　Bucharest。　There　I　am　on　my　own　ground；　with　the　backing　of　my　superiors。　I　am　not　for　blaming。　This　was　a　matter　of　national　security；　a　liaison　of　a　scientific；　preventative　nature　between　three　great　countries；　Romania；　Russia；　and　Great　Britain。　I　am　secure。　But　right　now；　here　in　lonesti；　I　do　not　feel　secure。〃
　〃So　let's　get　to　it；〃　said　Quint；　with　his　usual　efficiency。
　Irma　showed　her　yellow　teeth　in　one　of　her　infrequent　smiles。　〃No　need　for　getting　to　it；〃　she　informed。　〃Nothing　to　get　to。　I　took　the　liberty　of　packing　your　bags！　Can　we　go　now；　please？〃
　Without　more　ado；　they　paid　the　bill　and　left。
　Krakovitch　opted　to　drive；　giving　Sergei　Gulharov　a　break。　As　they　sped　back　towards　Bucharest　on　the　night　roads；　Gulharov　sat　beside　Irma　in　the　back　of　the　car　and　quietly　filled　her　in　as　best　he　could　on　the　story　of　what　had　happened　in　the　hills；　the　monstrous　thing　they　had　burned　there。
　When　he　was　finished　she　said　simply；　〃Your　faces　told　me　it　must　have　been　like　that。　I　am　glad　I　not　seeing　it　。　。
　
　After　his　last　painful　visit；　at　about　10。00　P。M。；　Darcy　Clarke　had　slept　like　a　log　in　his　hotel　bedroom　for　nearly　three　hours　solid。　When　he　woke　up　he　felt　fighting　fit。　All　very　mysterious；　he'd　never　known　an　attack　of　gastro…enteritis　to　e　and　go　so　quickly　（not　that　he　was　sorry　it　had　gone）　and　he　had　no　idea　what　he　could　have　eaten　to　cause　it。　Whatever　it　had　been；　the　rest　of　the　team　had　felt　no　ill　effects。　It　was　because　he　didn't　want　to　let　that　team　down　that　Clarke　dressed　quickly　and　went　to　report　himself　fit　for　duty。
　In　the　control　room　（the　living　area　of　their　main　suite　of　rooms）；　he　found　Guy　Roberts　slumped　in　his　swivel　chair；　head　on　his　folded　arms　where　he　sprawled　across　his　〃desk'：　a　dining　table；　cluttered　with　notes；　a　log　book　and　a　telephone。　He　was　fast　asleep　with　an　ashtray　piled　full　of　dog…ends　right　under　his　nose。　A　tobacco　addict；　he　probably　wouldn't　be　able　to　sleep　fortably　without　it！
　Trevor　Jordan　snoozed　in　a　deep　armchair　while　Ken　Layard　and　Simon　Gower　quietly　played　their　own　version　of　Chinese　Patience　at　a　small　green…baize　card　table。　Gower；　a　prognosticator　or　augur　of　some　talent；　played　badly；　making　too　many　mistakes。　〃Can't　concentrate！〃　he　growlingly　plained。　〃I　have　this　feeling　of　bad　stuff　ing　lots　of　it！〃
　〃Stop　making　excuses！〃　said　Layard。　〃Hell；　we　know　bad　stuff　is　ing！　And　we　know　where　from。　We　don't　know　when；　that's　all。〃
　〃No；〃　Gower　frowned；　tossed　in　his　hand；　〃I　mean　not　of　our　making。　When　we　go　against　Harkley　and　Bodescu；　that　will　be　different。　This　thing　I'm　feeling　is…〃　he　shrugged　uneasily；　〃something　else。〃
　〃So　maybe　we　should　wake　up　the　Fat　Man　there　and　tell　him？〃　Layard　suggested。
　Gower　shook　his　head。　〃I've　been　telling　him　for　the　last　three　days。　It　isn't　specific　it　never　is…but　it's　there。　You　could　be　right：　I'm　probably　feeling　the　ding…dong　ing　up　at　Harkley　House。　If　so；　then　believe　me　it's　going　to　be　a　good　one！　Anyway；　let　old　Roberts　kip。　He's　tired　and　when　he's　awake　the　place　stinks　of　bloody　weed！　I've　seen　him　with　three　going　at　once！　God；　you　need　a　respirator！〃
　Clarke　stepped　round　Roberts's　snoring　form　to…check　the　roster。　Roberts　had　only　mapped　it　out　until　the　end　of　the　afternoon　shift。　Keen　was　on　now；　to　be　relieved　by　Layard；　a　locator　or　finder；　who　in　turn　would　watch　Harkley　till　8。00　A。M。　Then　it　would　be　Gower's　turn　until　2。00　P。M。；　followed　by　Trevor　Jordan。　The　roster　went　no　farther　than　that。　Clarke　wondered　if　that　was　significant。。。
　
　Maybe　that　was　what　Gower　was　feeling：　a　ding…dong；　as　he　had　it；　but　a　little　closer　than　he　thought。
　Layard　cocked　his　head　on　one　side；　look