cb.damnationgame-第39部分

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and　middle　finger。　〃Take　it；　please。〃　Marty　stepped　forward　and　took　the　check。
　　〃Thank　you。〃　〃It　can　be　cashed　at　my　bank　in　the　Strand。　They'll　be　expecting　you。　Whatever　you　don't　spend；　I　want　you　to　gamble。〃　〃Sir？〃　Marty　wasn't　certain　he　was　hearing　the　invitation　properly。
　　〃I　insist　you　gamble　it；　Marty。　Horses；　cards；　whatever　you　like。　Enjoy　it。　Would　you　do　that　for　me？　And　when　you　e　back　you　can　make　an　old　man　envious　with　tales　of　your　adventures。〃　So　it　was　bribery　after　all。　The　fact　of　the　check　made　Marty　more　certain　than　ever　that　the　old　man　was　lying　about　Carys；　but　he　lacked　the　courage　to　press　the　issue。　It　wasn't　just　cowardice；　however；　that　made　him　hold　back：　it　was　burgeoning　excitement。　He　had　been　bribed　twice。　Once　with　the　money；　again　with　the　invitation　to　gamble　it。　It　was　years　since　he'd　had　a　chance　like　this。　Money　in　abundance；　and　time　on　his　hands。　The　day　might　e　when　he'd　hate　Papa　for　waking　the　virus　in　his　system：　but　before　then　a　fortune　could　be　won　and　lost　and　won　again。　He　stood　in　front　of　the　old　man　with　the　fever　already　on　him。
　　〃You're　a　good　man；　Strauss。〃　Whitehead's　words　rose　from　the　shadowed　chair　like　a　prophet's　from　a　cleft　rock。　Though　he　couldn't　see　the　potentate's　face；　Marty　knew　he　was　smiling。
　　
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　　Despite　her　years　on　the　sunshine　island；　Carys　had　a　healthy　sense　of　reality。　Or　had；　until　they　took　her　to　that　cold；　bare　house　on　Caliban　Street。　There；　nothing　was　certain　anymore。　It　was　Mamoulian's　doing。　That；　perhaps；　was　the　only　thing　that　was　certain。　Houses　weren't　haunted；　only　human　minds。　Whatever　moved　in　the　air　there；　or　flitted　along　the　bare　boards　with　the　dust　balls　and　the　cockroaches；　whatever　scintillated；　like　light　on　water；　at　the　corners　of　her　eyes；　it　was　all　of　Mamoulian's　manufacture。
　　For　three　days　after　her　arrival　at　the　new　house　she　had　refused　even　to　speak　to　her　host　or　captor；　whichever　he　was。　She　couldn't　recall　why　she'd　e；　but　she　knew　he'd　conned　her　into　it…his　mind　breathing　at　her　neck…and　she'd　resented　his　manipulations。　Breer；　the　fat　one；　had　brought　her　food；　and；　on　the　second　day；　dope　too；　but　she　wouldn't　eat　or　say　a　word。　The　room　they'd　locked　her　in　was　quite　fortable。　She　had　books；　and　a　television　too；　but　the　atmosphere　was　too　unstable　for　her　to　be　at　ease。　She　couldn't　read；　nor　could　she　watch　the　inanities　on　the　box。　Sometimes　she　found　it　difficult　to　remember　her　own　name；　it　was　as　if　his　constant　proximity　was　wiping　her　clean。　Perhaps　he　could　do　that。　After　all；　he'd　got　into　her　head；　hadn't　he？　Surreptitiously　wormed　his　way　into　her　psyche　God　knows　how　many　times。　He'd　been　in　her；　in　her　for　Christ's　sake；　and　she'd　never　known。
　　〃Don't　be　frightened。〃　It　was　three　A。M。　on　the　fourth　day；　and　another　sleepless　night。　He　had　e　into　her　room　so　silently　she'd　looked　down　to　see　if　his　feet　were　making　contact　with　the　floor。
　　〃I　hate　this　place；〃　she　informed　him。
　　〃Would　you　like　to　explore；　rather　than　being　locked　up　in　here？〃　〃It's　haunted；〃　she　said；　expecting　him　to　laugh　at　her。　He　didn't；　however。　So　she　went　on。　〃Are　you　the　ghost？〃　〃What　I　am　is　a　mystery；〃　he　replied；　〃even　to　myself。〃　His　voice　was　softened　by　introspection。　〃But　I'm　no　ghost。　You　may　be　certain　of　that。　Don't　fear　me；　Carys。　Anything　you　feel；　I　share；　in　some　measure。〃　She　remembered　acutely　this　man's　revulsion　at　the　sex　act。　What　a　pale；　sickly　thing　he　was；　for　all　his　powers。　She　couldn't　bring　herself　to　hate　him；　though　she　had　reason　enough。
　　〃I　don't　like　to　be　used；〃　she　said。
　　〃I　did　you　no　harm。　I　do　you　no　harm　now；　do　I？〃　〃I　want　to　see　Marty。〃　Mamoulian　had　started　to　try　to　clench　his　mutilated　hand。　〃I'm　afraid　that's　not　possible；〃　he　said。　The　scar　tissue　of　his　hand；　pulled　tight；　shone；　but　the　mishealed　anatomy　wouldn't　give。
　　〃Why　not？　Why　won't　you　let　me　see　him？〃　〃You'll　have　everything　you　need。　Ample　supplies　of　food；　of　heroin。〃　It　suddenly　crossed　her　mind　that　Marty　might　be　on　the　European's　execution　list。　Might；　in　fact；　already　be　dead。
　　〃Please　don't　harm　him；〃　she　said。
　　〃Thieves　e　and　thieves　go；〃　he　replied。　〃I　can't　be　responsible　for　what　happens　to　him。〃　〃I'll　never　forgive　you；〃　she　said。
　　〃Yes　you　will；〃　he　replied；　his　voice　so　soft　now　it　was　practically　illusory。　〃I'm　your　protector　now；　Carys。　Had　I　been　allowed；　I　would　have　nurtured　you　from　childhood；　and　you　would　have　been　spared　the　humiliations　he's　made　you　suffer。　But　it's　too　late。　All　I　can　do　is　shelter　you　from　further　corruption。〃　He　gave　up　trying　to　make　a　fist。　She　saw　how　the　wounded　hand　disgusted　him。　He　would　cut　it　off　if　he　could；　she　thought；　it's　not　just　sex　he　loathes；　it's　flesh。
　　〃No　more；〃　he　said；　apropos　of　the　hand；　or　debate；　or　nothing　at　all。
　　When　he　left　her　to　sleep；　he　didn't　lock　the　door　behind　him。
　　
　　The　next　day；　she　began　her　exploration　of　the　house。　There　was　nothing　very　remarkable　about　the　place；　it　was　simply　a　large；　empty；　three…story　house。　In　the　street　beyond　the　dirty　windows　ordinary　people　passed　by；　too　locked　in　their　heads　even　to　glance　around。　Though　her　first　instinct　was　to　knock　on　the　glass；　to　mouth　some　appeal　to　them；　the　urge　was　easily　conquered　by　reason。　If　she　slipped　away　what　would　she　be　escaping　from；　or　to？　She　had　safety　here；　of　a　kind；　and　drugs。　Though　at　first　she　resisted　them；　they　were　too　attractive　to　flush　away　down　the　toilet。　And　after　a　few　days　of　the　pills；　she　gave　in　to　the　heroin　too。　It　came　in　steady　supply：　never　too　much；　never　too　little；　and　always　good　stuff。
　　Only　Breer；　the　fat　one；　upset　her。　He　would　e；　some　days；　and　watch　her；　his　eyes　sloppy　in　his　head　like　partially　poached　eggs。　She　told　Mamoulian　about　him；　and　the　next　day　he　didn't　linger；　just　brought　the　pills　and　hurried　away。　And　the　days　flowed　into　one　another；　and　sometimes　she　didn't　remember　where　she　was　or　how　she'd　got　here；　sometimes　she　remembered　her　name；　sometimes　not。　Once；　maybe　twice；　she　tried　to　think　her　way　to　Marty；　but　he　was　too　far　from　her。　Either　that；　or　the　house　subdued　her　powers。　Whichever；　her　thoughts　lost　their　way　a　few　miles　from　Caliban　Street；　and　she　returned　there　sweating　and　afraid。
　　She　had　been　in　the　house　almost　a　week　when　things　took　a　turn　for　the　worse。
　　
　　〃I'd　like　you　to　do　something　for　me；〃　the　European　said。
　　〃What？〃　〃I'd　like　you　to　find　Mr。　Toy。　You　do　remember　Mr。　Toy？〃　Of　course　she　remembered。　Not　well；　but　she　remembered。　His　broken　nose；　those　cautious　eyes　that　had　always　looked　at　her　so　sadly。
　　〃Do　you　think　you　could　locate　him？〃　〃I　don't　know　how　to。〃　〃Let　your　mind　go　to　him。　You　know　the　way；　Carys。〃　〃Why　can't　you　do　it？〃　〃Because　he'll　be　expecting　me。　He'll　have　defenses；　and　I'm　too　tired　to　fight　with　him　at　the　moment。〃　〃Is　he　afraid　of　you？〃　〃Probably。〃　〃Why？〃　〃You　were　a　babe　in　arms　when　Mr。　Toy　and　I　last　met。　He　and　I　parted　as　enemies；　he　presumes　we　are　still　enemies　。　。　。〃　〃You're　going　to　harm　him；〃　she　said。
　　〃That's　my　business；　Carys。〃　She　stood；　sliding　up　the　wall　against　which　she'd　been　slumped。
　　〃I　don't　think　I　want　to　find　him　for　you。〃　〃Aren't　we　friends？〃　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃No。　Never。〃　〃e　now。〃　He　stepped　toward　her。　The　broken　hand　touched　her：　the　contact　was　feather…light。
　　〃I　think　you　are　a　ghost；〃　she　said。
　　She　left　him　standing　in　the　corridor；　and　went　up　to　the　bathroom　to　think　this　through；　locking　the　door　behind　her。　She　knew　without　a　shadow　of　a　doubt　that　he'd　harm　Toy　if　she　led　him　to　the　man。
　　〃Carys；〃　he　said　quietly。　He　was　outside　the　bathroom　door。　His　proximity　made　her　scalp　creep。
　　〃You　can't　make　me；〃　she　said。
　　〃Don't　tempt　me。〃　Suddenly　the　European's　face　loomed　in　her　head。　He　spoke　again：　〃I　knew　you　before　you　could　walk；　Carys。　I've　held　you　in　my　arms；　often。　You've　sucked　on　my　thumb。〃　He　was　speaking　with　his　lips　close　to　the　door；　his　low　voice　reverberated　in　the　wood　she　had　her　back　against。
　　〃It's　no　fault　of　yours　or　mine　that　we　were　parted。　Believe　me；　I'm　glad　you　carry　your　father's　gifts；　because　he　never　used　them。　He　never　once　understood　the　wisdom　there　was　to　be　found　with　them。　He　squandered　it　all：　for　fame；　for　wealth。　But　you　。　。　。　I　could　teach　you；　Carys。　Such　things。〃　The　voice　was　so　seductive　it　seemed　to　reach　through　the　door　and　enfold　her；　the　way　his　arms　had；　so　many　years　ago。　She　was　suddenly　minute　in　his　grasp；　he　cooed　at　her；　made　foolish　faces　to　bring　a　cherubic　smile　to　bloom。
　　〃Just　find　Toy　for　me。　Is　it　so　much　to　ask　for　all　my　favors　to　you？〃　She　found　herself　rocking　with　the　rhythm　of　his　cradling。
　　〃Toy　never　loved　you；〃　he　was　saying；　〃nobody　has　ever　loved　you。〃　That　was　a　lie：　and　a　tactical　error。　The　words　were　cold　water　on　her　sleepy　face。　She　was　loved！　Marty　loved　her。　The　runner；　her　runner。
　　Mamoulian　sensed　his　miscalculation。
　　〃Don't　defy　me；〃　he　said；　the　cooing　had　gone　from　his　voice。
　　〃Go　to　Hell；〃　she　replied。
　　〃As　you　wish　。　。　。〃　There　was　a　falling　note　in　his　words；　as　though　the　issue　was　closed　and　done　with。　He　didn't　leave　his　station　by　the　door；　however。　She　felt　him　close。　Was　he　waiting　for　her　to　tire；　and　e　out？　she　wondered。　Persuasion　by　physical　violence　wasn't　his　style；　surely；　unless　he　was　going　to　use　Breer。　She　hardened　herself　against　the　possibility。　She'd　claw　his　watery　eyes　out。
　　Minutes　passed；　and　she　was　sure　the　European　was　still　outside　though　she　could　hear　neither　movement　or　breath。
　　And　then；　the　pipes　began　to　rumble。　Somewhere　in　the　system；　a　tide　was　moving。　The　sink　made　a　sucking　sound；　the　water　in　the　toilet　bowl　splashed；　the　toilet　lid　flapped　open　and　slammed　closed　again　as　a　gust　of　fetid　air　was　discharged　from　below。　This　was　his　doing　somehow；　though　it　seemed　a　vacuous　exercise。　The　toilet　farted　again：　the　smell　was　noxious。
　　〃What's　happening？〃　she　asked　under　her　breath。
　　A　gruel　of　filth　had　started　to　seep　over　the　lip　of　the　toilet　and　dribble　onto　the　floor。　Wormy　shapes　moved　in　it。　She　shut　her　eyes。　This　was　a　fabrication；　conjured　up　by　the　European　to　subdue　her　mutiny：　she　would　ignore　it。　But　even　wi