bl.necroscope2-第60部分

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　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；　looked　at　Clarke　where　he　studied　the　roster。　〃What's　up；　old　son？　Still　got　the　runs？　You　can　stop　worrying　about　shift　work　at　Harkley。　Guy　has　pulled　you　off　it。〃
　Gower　looked　up　and　managed　a　grin。　〃He　doesn't　want　you　polluting　the　bushes　out　there！〃
　〃Ha…ha！〃　said　Clarke；　his　face　blank。　〃Actually；　I'm　fine　now。　And　I'm　starving！　Ken；　you　can　go　and　jump　in　your　bed　if　you　like。　I'll　take　the　next　shift。　That'll　adjust　the　roster　back　to　normal。〃
　〃What　a　hero！〃　Layard　gave　a　soft　whistle。　〃Great！　Six　hours　in　bed　will　suit　me　just　fine。〃　He　stood　up；　stretched。　〃Did　you　say　you　were　hungry？　There　are　sandwiches　under　the　plate　on　the　table　there。　A　bit　curly　by　now；　but　still　edible。〃
　Clarke　started　to　munch　on　a　sandwich；　glancing　at　his　watch。　It　was　1。15　P。M。　〃I'll　have　a　quick　shower　and　get　on　my　way。　When　Roberts　wakes　up；　tell　him　I'm　on；　right？〃
　Gower　stood　up；　went　to　Clarke　and　stared　hard　at　him。　〃Darcy；　is　there　something　on　your　mind？〃
　〃No；〃　Clarke　shook　his　head；　then　changed　his　mind。　〃Yes。。。　I　don't　know！　I　just　want　to　get　out　to　Harkley；　that's　all。　Do　my　bit。〃
　Twenty…five　minutes　later　he　was　on　his　way。
　
　Shortly　before　2。00　A。M。　Clarke　parked　his　car　on　the　hard　shoulder　of　the　road　maybe　quarter…of　a　mile　from　Harkley　House　and　walked　the　rest　of　the　way。　The　mist　had　thinned　out　and　the　night　was　starting　to　look　fine。　Stars　lit　his　way；　and　the　hedgerows　had　a　nimbus　of　foxfire　to　sharpen　their　silhouettes。
　Oddly　enough；　and　for　all　his　terrifying　confrontation　with　Bodescu's　dog；　Clarke　felt　no　fear。　He　put　it　down　to　the　fact　that　he　carried　a　loaded　gun；　and　that　back　there　in　the　boot　of　his　car　was　a　small　but　quite　deadly　metal　crossbow。　After　he　had　seen　Peter　Keen　off　duty；　he'd　bring　up　his　car　and　park　it　in　Keen's　spot。
　On　his　way　he　met　no　one；　but　he　heard　a　dog　yapping　across　the　fields；　and　another　answering　bark　for　bark；　apparently　from　miles　away。　A　handful　of　hazy　lights　shone　softly　on　the　hills；　and　just　as　he　came　in　sight　of　Harkley's　gates　a　distant　church　clock　dutifully　gonged　out　the　hour。
　Two　o'clock　and　all's　well；　thought　Clarke　except　he　saw　that　it　wasn't。　There　was　no　sign　of　Keen's　unmistakeable　red　Capri；　for　one　thing。　And　for　another　there　was　no　sign　of　Keen。
　Clarke　scratched　his　head；　scuffed　the　grass　where　Keen's　car　should　be　parked。　The　wet　grass　gave　up　a　broken　branch；　and。。。　no；　it　wasn't　a　branch。　Clarke　stooped；　picked　up　the　snapped　crossbow　bolt　in　fingers　that　were　suddenly　tingling。　Something　was　very；　very　wrong　here！
　He　looked　up；　staring　at　Harkley　House　standing　there　like　a　squat　sentient　creature　in　the　night。　Its　eyes　were　closed　now；　but　what　was　hiding　behind　the　lowered　lids　of　its　dark　windows？
　All　of　Clarke's　senses　were　operating　at　maximum　efficiency：　his　ears　picked　up　the　rustle　of　a　mouse；　his　eyes　glared　to　penetrate　the　darkness；　he　could　taste；　almost　feel　the　evil　in　the　night　air；　and　something　stank。　Literally。　The　stink　of　a　slaughterhouse。
　Clarke　took　out　a　pencil…slim　torch　and　flashed　it　on　the　grass　which　was　red　and　wet　and　sticky！　The　cuffs　of　his　trousers　were　stained　a　dark　crimson　with　blood。　Someone　（God；　let　it　not　be　Peter　Keen！）　had　spilled　pints　of　the　stuff　right　here。　Clarke's　legs　trembled　and　he　felt　faint；　but　he　forced　himself　to　follow　a　track；　a　bloody　swath；　to　a　spot　behind　the　hedgerow；　hidden　from　the　road。　And　there　it　was　much　worse。　Did　one　man　have　that　much　blood！
　Clarke　wanted　to　be　sick；　but　that　would　incapacitate　him　and　right　now　he　dare　not　be　incapacitated。　But　the　grass。。。　it　was　strewn　with　clots　of　blood；　shreds　of　skin　and　gobbets　of。。。　of　meat！　Human　flesh！　And　under　the　narrow　beam　of　his　torch　there　was　something　else；　something　which　might　just　be　God；　a　kidney！
　Clarke　ran…or　rather　floated；　fought；　swam；　drifted；　as　in　a　dream　or　nightmare　back　to　his　car；　drove　like　a　madman　back　to　Paignton；　hurled　himself　into　INTESP's　suite　of　rooms。　He　was　in　shock；　remembered　nothing　of　the　drive；　nothing　at　all　except　what　he'd　seen；　which　had　seared　itself　onto　his　mind。　He　fell　into　a　chair　and　lolled　there；　gasping；　trembling：　his　mouth；　face；　all　of　his　limbs；　even　his　mind；　trembling。
　Guy　Roberts　had　e　half…awake　when　Clarke　rushed　in。　He　saw　him；　the　state　of　his　trousers；　the　dead　white　slackness　of　his　face；　and　was　fully　alert　in　an　instant。　He　dragged　Clarke　to　his　feet　and　slapped　him　twice；　ringing　blows　that　brought　the　colour　back　to　Clarke's　cheeks　…and　blood　to　his　previously　blank　eyes。　Clarke　drew　himself　up　and　glared；　he　growled　and　showed　his　gritted　teeth；　went　for　Roberts　like　a　madman。
　Trevor　Jordan　and　Simon　Gower　dragged　him　off　Roberts；　held　him　tight　and　at　last　be　broke　down。　Sobbing　like　a　child；　finally　he　told　the　whole　story。　The　only　thing　he　didn't　tell　was　the　one　which　must　be　perfectly　obvious：　why　it　had　affected　him　so　very　badly。
　〃Obvious；　yes；〃　said　Roberts　to　the　others；　cradling　Clarke's　head　and　rocking　him　like　a　child。　〃You　know　what　Darcy's　talent　is；　don't　you？　That's　right：　he　has　this　thing　that　looks　after　him。　What？　He　could　walk　through　a　minefield　and　e　out　unscathed！　So　you　see；　Darcy's　blaming　himself　for　what　happened。　He　had　the　shits　tonight　and　couldn't　go　on　duty。　But　it　wasn't　anything　he　ate　that　queered　his　guts　it　was　his　damned　talent！　Or　else　it　would　be　Darcy　himself　minced　out　there　and　not　Peter　Keen。　。
　
　Tuesday；　6。00　A。M。：　Alex　Kyle　was　shaken　rudely　awake　by　Carl　Quint。　Krakovitch　was　with　Quint；　both　of　them　hollow…eyed　through　travel　and　lack　of　sleep。　They　had　stayed　overnight　at　the　Dunarea；　where　they'd　checked　in　just　before　1。00　A。M。　They　had　had　maybe　four　hours'　sleep；　Krakovitch　had　been　roused　by　night　staff　to　answer　a　call　from　England　on　behalf　of　his　English　guests；　Quint；　knowing　by　means　of　his　talent　that　something　was　in　the　air；　had　been　awake　anyway。
　〃I've　had　the　call　transferred　to　my　room；〃　said　Krakovitch　to　Kyle；　who　was　still　gathering　his　senses。　〃It　is　someone　called　Roberts。　He　is　wishing　to　speak　to　you。　Most　important。〃
　Kyle　shook　himself　awake；　glanced　at　Quint。
　〃Something's　up；〃　Quint　said。　〃I've　suspected　it　for　a　couple　of　hours。　I　tossed　and　turned；　sleep　all　broken　upbut　too　tired　to　respond　properly。〃
　All　three　in　pyjamas；　they　went　quickly　to　Krakovitch's　room。　On　the　way　the　Russian　inquired；　〃How　do　they　know　where　you　are；　your　people？　It　is　them；　yes？　I　mean；　we　had　not　planned　to　be　here　tonight。〃
　Quint　raised　an　eyebrow　in　his　fashion。　〃We're　in　the　same　business　as　you；　Felix；　remember？〃
　Krakovitch　was　impressed。　〃A　finder？　Very　accurate！〃
　Quint　didn't　bother　to　put　him　right。　Ken　Layard　was　good；　all　right；　but　not　that　good。　The　better　he　knew　a　person　or　thing　the　easier　he　could　find　him　or　it。　He'd　have　located　Kyle　in　Bucharest；　they'd　have　systematically　checked　out　the　major　hotels。　Since　the　Dunarea　was　one　of　the　biggest；　it　must　have　e　up　high　on　the　list。
　In　Krakovitch's　room　Kyle　took　the　call。　〃Guy？　Alec　here。〃
　〃Alec？　We　have　a　big　problem。　It's　bad；　I'm　afraid。　Can　we　talk？〃
　〃Can't　it　go　through　London？〃　Kyle　was　fully　awake　now。
　〃That'll　take　time；〃　Roberts　answered；　〃and　time's　important。〃
　〃Wait；〃　said　Kyle。　He　said　to　Krakovitch：　〃What　are　the　odds　this　is　being　monitored？〃
　The　Russian　shrugged；　shook　his　head。　〃None　at　all；　that　I　can　see。〃　He　stepped　to　the　window；　opened　the　curtains。　It　would　soon　be　dawn。
　〃OK；　Guy；〃　Kyle　spoke　into　the　phone。　〃Let's　have　it。〃
　〃Right；〃　said　Roberts。　〃It's　just　about　four　A。M。　here。　Now　go　back　two　hours。。。〃　He　told　Kyle　the　entire　story；　then　detailed　the　action　he'd　taken　since　Clarke's　hag…ridden　drive　back　to　the　hotel　in　Paignton。
　〃I　got　Ken　Layard　in　on　it。　He　was　great。　He　fixed　Keen's　location　somewhere　on　the　road　between　Brixham　and　Newton　Abbot。　Keen　and　his　car；　smashed　up；　burned　out。　I　scried　out　Layard's　fix　and　he　was　right；　of　course；　we　were　able　to　say　quite　definitely　that　Peter　was　that　he　was　dead。
　〃I　contacted　the　police　in　Paignton；　told　them　I　was　waiting　for　a　friend　who　was　a　little　overdue；　gave　them　his　name；　description；　a　description　of　his　car。　They　said　there'd　been　an　accident；　he　was　being　cut　out　of　the　car；　they　could　tell　me　no　more；　but　an　ambulance　was　on　the　scene　and　the　driver　of　the　car　would　be　taken　to　the　emergency　hospital　in　Torquay。　For　me　that　was　a　ten　minute　drive。　I　was　there　when　he　was　brought　in。　I　identified　him。。。〃　He　paused。
　〃Go　on；〃　said　Kyle；　knowing　there　must　be　worse　to　e。
　〃Alec；　I　feel　responsible。　We　should　have　been　tighter。　The　trouble　with　this　game　is　that　we　rely　on　our　talents　too　damned　much！　We've　almost　forgotten　how　to　use　simple　technology。　We　should　have　had　walkie…talkies；　better　contact。　We　should　have　given　this　damned　monster　more　credit　for　mayhem！　I　mean；　Christ；　how　could　I　let　this　happen？　We're　espers；　we　have　special　talents；　Bodescu　is　only　one　man　and　we're　…〃
　〃He's　not　just　a　man！〃　Kyle　snapped。　〃And　we　don't　have　a　monopoly　on　talent。　He　has　it；　too。　It's　not　your　fault。　Now　please　tell　me　the　rest　of　it。〃
　〃He。。。　Peter　was。。。　hell；　he　didn't　get　those　injuries　in　any　car　smash！　He'd　been　opened　up。。。　gutted！　Everything　was　exposed。　His　head　was。。。　God；　it　was　in　two　halves！〃
　Despite　the　horror　conjured　by　Roberts's　description；　Kyle　tried　to　think　dispassionately。　He'd　known　Peter　Keen　well　and　liked　him。　But　now　he　must　put　that　aside　and　think　only　of　the　job。　〃Why　the　car　smash？　What　did　that　bastard　hope　to　get　out　of　it？〃
　〃The　way　I　see　it；〃　Roberts　answered；　〃he　was　just　covering　up　the　murder；　and　what　he'd　done　to　Peter's　poor　body。　The　police　said　there　was　a　strong　petrol　smell　all　around　and　inside　the　car。　I　reckon　Bodescu　drove　Peter　out　there；　put　the　car　in　top　gear；　pointed　it　downhiIl　and　let　it　roll。　Being　what　he　is；　a　few　grazes　and　cuts　wouldn't　matter　much　when　he　jumped　for　it。　And　he　probably　splashed　a　lot　of　petrol　around　inside　the　car　first；　so　as　to　bum　the　evidence。　But　the　way　he'd　cut　that　poor　lad　up　was。。。　Jesus；　it　was　horribl