cb.damnationgame-第15部分

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　　〃Many　what？〃　〃I　can't　remember。〃　Carys　stood　up。　The　smile　had　gone。　She　had　that　hard　look　that　she　got　when　she　really　wanted　something；　the　corners　of　her　mouth　pulled　down。　It　was　a　look　she　shared　with　Mr。　Whitehead；　and　it　intimidated　Pearl。　Carys　knew　that。
　　〃You　know　my　memory；〃　Pearl　said；　apologetically。　〃I　don't　remember　his　surname。〃　〃Well；　who　is　he？〃　〃Your　father's　bodyguard；　he's　taken　over　from　Nick；〃　Pearl　replied。　〃He's　an　ex…prisoner；　apparently。　Robbery　with　violence。〃　〃Really？〃　〃And　rather　lacking　in　social　graces。〃　〃Marty。〃　〃Strauss；〃　Pearl　said；　with　a　note　of　triumph。　〃Martin　Strauss；　that's　it。
　　There：　he　was　named；　Carys　thought。　There　was　a　primitive　power　in　naming　someone。　It　gave　you　a　handle　on　a　person。　Martin　Strauss。
　　〃Thank　you；〃　she　said；　genuinely　pleased。
　　〃Why　do　you　want　to　know？〃　〃Just　wondered　who　he　was。　People　e　and　go。〃　〃Well　I　think　he's　staying；〃　Pearl　said；　and　left　the　room。　As　she　closed　the　door　Carys　said：　〃Does　he　have　a　middle　name？〃　But　Pearl　didn't　hear。
　　It　was　strange；　to　think　the　runner　had　been　a　prisoner；　still　was　a　prisoner　in　a　way；　racing　around　and　around　the　grounds；　breathing　in　clear　air；　breathing　out　clouds；　frowning　as　he　ran。　Perhaps　he'd　understand；　more　than　the　old　man　or　Toy　or　Pearl；　what　it　felt　like　to　be　on　the　sunshine　island；　and　not　know　how　to　get　off。　Or　worse；　to　know　how；　but　never　to　dare　it；　for　fear　of　never　getting　back　to　safety。
　　Now　that　she　knew　his　name　and　his　crimes；　the　romance　of　his　morning　run　wasn't　spoiled　by　the　information。　He　still　trailed　glory；　but　now　she　saw　the　weight　in　his　body　when　previously　she'd　seen　only　the　lightness　of　his　step。
　　She　decided；　after　an　age　of　indecision；　that　watching　was　not　going　to　be　enough。
　　
　　As　Marty　became　fitter；　so　he　demanded　more　of　himself　during　his　morning　run。　The　circuit　he　made　grew　bigger；　though　by　now　he　was　covering　the　larger　distance　in　the　same　time　as　he　had　the　shorter。　Sometimes；　to　add　spice　to　the　exercise；　he'd　plunge　into　the　woods；　careless　of　the　undergrowth　and　the　low　branches；　his　even　stride　degenerating　into　an　ad　hoc　collection　of　leaps　and　dashes。　On　the　other　side　of　the　wood　was　the　weir；　and　here；　if　he　was　in　the　mood；　he　might　halt　for　a　few　minutes。　There　were　herons　here；　three　that　he'd　seen。　It　would　soon　be　nesting　time　and　they　would　presumably　pair　off。　He　wondered　what　would　happen　to　the　third　bird　then？　Would　it　fly　off　in　search　of　its　own　mate；　or　linger；　thinking　adulterous　thoughts？　The　weeks　ahead　would　tell。
　　Some　days；　fascinated　by　the　way　Whitehead　watched　him　from　the　top　of　the　house；　he'd　slow　as　he　passed　by；　hoping　to　catch　his　face。　But　the　watcher　was　too　careful　to　be　caught。
　　
　　And　then　one　morning　she　was　waiting　at　the　dovecote　for　him　as　he　made　the　long　curve　back　toward　the　house；　and　he　knew　at　once　that　he'd　been　wrong　about　it　being　the　old　man　who'd　been　spying。　This　was　the　cautious　observer　at　the　upper　window。　It　was　barely　a　quarter　to　seven　in　the　morning；　and　still　chilly。　She'd　been　waiting　a　while　to　judge　by　the　flush　on　her　cheeks　and　nose。　Her　eyes　were　shining　with　cold。
　　He　stopped；　puffing　out　steam　like　a　traction　engine。
　　〃Hello；　Marty；〃　she　said。
　　〃Hello。〃　〃You　don't　know　me。〃　〃No。〃　She　hugged　her　duffle　coat　more　tightly　around　her。　She　was　skinny；　and　looked　twenty　at　the　most。　Her　eyes；　so　dark　a　brown　they　looked　black　at　three　paces；　were　in　him　like　claws。　The　ruddy　face　was　wide；　and　without　makeup。　She　looked；　he　thought；　hungry。　He　looked；　she　thought；　ravenous。
　　〃You're　the　one　from　upstairs；〃　he　ventured。
　　〃Yes。　You　didn't　mind　me　spying；　did　you？〃　she　inquired；　guilelessly　〃Why　should　I？〃　She　extended　a　slim；　gloveless　hand　to　the　stone　of　the　dovecote。
　　〃It's　beautiful；　isn't　it？〃　she　said。
　　The　building　had　never　struck　Marty　as　even　interesting　before；　simply　as　a　landmark　by　which　to　pace　his　run。
　　〃It's　one　of　the　biggest　dovecotes　in　England；〃　she　said。　〃Did　you　know　that？〃　〃No。〃　〃Ever　been　in？〃　He　shook　his　head。
　　〃It's　a　bizarre　place；〃　she　said；　and　led　the　way　around　the　barrel…shaped　building　to　the　door。　She　had　some　difficulty　pushing　it　open；　the　damp　weather　had　swelled　the　wood。　Marty　had　to　double　up　to　follow　her　inside。　It　was　even　chillier　there　than　out；　and　he　shivered；　the　sweat　on　his　brow　and　sternum　cooling　now　he'd　stopped　running。　But　it　was；　as　she　had　promised；　bizarre：　just　a　single　round　room　with　a　hole　in　the　roof　to　allow　the　birds　access　and　egress。　The　walls　were　lined　with　square　holes；　nesting　niches　presumably；　set　in　perfect　rows…like　tenement　windows…from　floor　to　roof。　All　were　empty。　Judging　by　the　absence　of　excrement　or　feathers　on　the　floor；　the　building　had　not　been　used　in　many　years。　Its　forsakenness　gave　it　a　melancholy　air；　its　unique　architecture　rendered　it　useless　for　any　function　but　that　for　which　it　had　been　built。　The　girl　had　crossed　the　impacted　earth　floor　and　was　counting　the　nesting　niches　around　from　the　door。
　　〃Seventeen；　eighteen…〃　He　watched　her　back。　Her　hair　was　unevenly　cropped　at　the　nape　of　her　neck。　The　coat　she　wore　was　too　big　for　her：　it　wasn't　even　hers；　he　guessed。　Who　was　she？　Pearl's　daughter？
　　She'd　stopped　counting。　Now　she　put　her　hand　into　one　of　the　holes；　making　a　little　noise　of　discovery　as　her　fingers　located　something。　It　was　a　hiding　place；　he　realized。　She　was　about　to　trust　him　with　a　secret。　She　turned；　and　showed　him　her　treasure。
　　〃I'd　forgotten　till　I　came　back　in；〃　she　said；　〃what　I　used　to　hide　here。〃　It　was　a　fossil；　or　rather　the　fragment　of　one；　a　spiral　shell　that　had　lain　at　the　bottom　of　some　pre…Cambrian　sea；　before　the　world　was　green。　In　its　flutes；　which　she　was　stroking；　motes　of　dust　gathered。　It　crossed　Marty's　mind；　watching　the　intensity　of　her　involvement　with　this　piece　of　stone；　that　the　girl　was　not　entirely　sane。　But　the　thought　vanished　when　she　looked　up　at　him；　her　eyes　were　too　clear　and　too　willful。　If　she　had　any　insanity　in　her　it　was　invited；　a　streak　of　lunacy　she　was　pleased　to　entertain。　She　grinned　at　him　as　if　she'd　known　what　he　was　thinking：　cunning　and　charm　were　mixed　in　her　face　in　equal　parts。
　　〃Are　there　no　doves；　then？〃　he　said。
　　〃No；　there　haven't　been；　as　long　as　I've　been　here。〃　〃Not　even　a　few？〃　〃If　you　just　have　a　few　they　die　in　winter。　If　you　keep　a　full　dovecote　they　all　keep　each　other　warm。　But　when　there's　only　a　handful　they　don't　generate　enough　heat；　and　they　freeze　to　death。〃　He　nodded。　It　seemed　regrettable　to　leave　the　building　empty。
　　〃They　should　fill　it　up　again。〃　〃I　don't　know；〃　she　said。　〃I　like　it　like　this。〃　She　slipped　the　fossil　back　into　her　hidey…hole。
　　〃Now　you　know　my　special　place；〃　she　said；　and　the　cunning　had　gone；　it　was　all　charm。　He　was　entranced。
　　〃I　don't　know　your　name。〃　〃Carys；〃　she　said；　then　after　a　moment；　added：　〃It's　Welsh。〃　〃Oh。〃　He　couldn't　help　staring　at　her。　She　suddenly　seemed　embarrassed；　and　she　went　back　to　the　door　quickly；　ducking　out　into　the　open　air。　It　had　begun　to　rain；　a　soft；　mid…March　drizzle。　She　put　up　the　hood　of　her　duffle　coat；　he　put　up　his　track…suit　hood。
　　〃Maybe　you'll　show　me　the　rest　of　the　grounds？〃　he　said；　not　certain　that　this　was　the　appropriate　question；　but　more　certain　that　he　didn't　want　this　conversation　to　end　here　without　some　possibility　of　them　meeting　again。　She　made　a　nonmittal　noise　by　way　of　reply。　The　corners　of　her　mouth　were　tucked　down。
　　〃Tomorrow？〃　he　said。
　　This　time　she　didn't　answer　at　all。　Instead；　she　started　to　walk　toward　the　house。　He　tagged　along；　knowing　their　exchange　would　falter　entirely　if　he　didn't　find　some　way　to　keep　it　alive。
　　〃It's　strange　being　in　the　house　with　no　one　to　talk　to；〃　he　said。
　　That　seemed　to　strike　a　chord。
　　〃It's　Papa's　house；〃　she　said　simply。　〃We　just　live　in　it。〃　Papa。　So；　she　was　his　daughter。　Now　he　recognized　the　old　man's　mouth　on　her；　those　pinched…down　corners　that　on　him　seemed　so　stoical；　and　on　her；　simply　sad。
　　〃Don't　tell　anyone；〃　she　said。
　　He　presumed　she　meant　about　their　meeting；　but　he　didn't　press　her。　There　were　more　important　questions　to　ask；　if　she　didn't　race　away。　He　wanted　to　signal　his　interest　in　her。　But　he　could　think　of　nothing　to　say。　The　sudden　change　in　her　tempo；　from　gentle；　elliptical　conversation　to　this　staccato；　confounded　him。
　　〃Are　you　all　right？〃　he　asked。
　　She　looked　around　at　him；　and　beneath　her　hood　she　seemed　almost　to　be　in　mourning。
　　〃I　have　to　hurry；〃　she　said。　〃I'm　wanted。〃　She　picked　up　the　pace　of　her　step；　signaling　only　in　the　hunch　of　her　shoulders　a　desire　to　leave　him　behind。　He　obliged　and　slowed；　leaving　her　to　go　back　to　the　house　without　a　glance　or　a　wave。
　　Rather　than　return　to　the　kitchen；　where　he'd　have　to　endure　Pearl's　banter　while　he　breakfasted；　he　started　back　across　the　field；　giving　the　dovecote　a　wide　berth；　until　he　reached　the　perimeter　fence；　and　punished　himself　with　another　plete　circuit。　When　he　ran　into　the　woods　he　found　himself　involuntarily　scanning　the　ground　underfoot；　looking　for　fossils。
　　
　　17
　　Two　days　later；　about　eleven…thirty　at　night；　he　got　a　summons　from　Whitehead。
　　〃I'm　in　the　study；〃　he　said　on　the　phone。　〃I'd　like　a　word　with　you。〃　The　study；　though　it　boasted　half　a　dozen　lamps；　was　almost　in　darkness。　Only　the　crane…necked　lamp　on　the　desk　burned；　and　that　threw　its　light　onto　a　heap　of　papers　rather　than　into　the　room。　Whitehead　was　sitting　in　the　leather　chair　beside　the　window。　On　the　table　beside　him　was　a　bottle　of　vodka　and　an　almost　empty　glass。　He　didn't　turn　when　Marty　knocked　and　entered；　but　simply　addressed　Marty　from　his　vantage　point　in　front　of　the　floodlit　lawn。
　　〃I　think　it's　time　I　gave　you　more　leash；　Strauss；〃　he　said。　〃You've　done　a　fine　job　so　far。　I'm　pleased。〃　〃Thank　you；　sir。〃　〃Bill　Toy　will　be　up　here　overnight　tomorrow；　and　so　will　Luther；　so　this　might　be　an　opportunity　for　you　to　go　down　to　London。〃　It　was　eight　weeks；　almost　to　the　day；　since　he'd　arrived　at　the　estate：　and　here；　at　last；　was　a　tentative　signal　that　his　place　was　secure。
　　〃I've　had　Luther　sort　out　a　vehicle　for　you。　Speak　to　him　about　it　w