p&c.brimstone-第63部分

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　〃Since　when　did　coffee　bee　your　favorite　drink？　I　thought　you　were　a　green…tea　man。〃　
　〃Usually；　yes。　But　when　in　Rome…or　Cremona；　as　the　case　may　be　。　。　。〃　
　The　coffees　arrived；　in　the　usual　tiny　espresso　cups。　Pendergast　stirred　his；　tossed　it　down　in　the　Italian　manner。　D'Agosta　drank　his　more　slowly；　catching　Pendergast's　eye。　There　it　was　again：　that　look　of　eagerness。　
　〃My　dear　Vincent；　please　don't　think　I'm　being　intentionally　mysterious。　In　certain　kinds　of　police　work；　there　can　be　great　danger　in　propounding　theories。　They　take　on　a　life　of　their　own。　They　are　like　wearing　colored　spectacles；　being　the　truth　we　see　even　when　it　is　wrong。　So　I　hesitate　to　bandy　theories…especially　with　someone　whose　judgment　I　respect　as　much　as　yours…until　I　have　proof　in　hand。　That　is　why　I　have　not　asked　foryour　theories；　either。〃　
　〃I　don't　have　any　theories。〃　
　〃You　will；　before　the　day　is　up。〃　He　tossed　a　two…euro　coin　on　the　counter；　and　they　went　out。　〃Our　first　stop　is　the　Palazzo　unale；　a　fine　example　of　medieval　civic　architecture；　containing　a　notable　marble　chimneypiece　by　Pedoni。〃　
　〃Heck；　I've　always　wanted　to　see　that　chimneypiece。〃　
　Pendergast　smiled。　
　A　ten…minute　walk　brought　them　to　the　heart　of　the　city　and　a　crooked　piazza。　On　one　side　stood　an　enormous　cathedral　with　a　soaring　tower。　Pendergast　gestured　at　it　as　they　passed。　〃That　is　said　to　be　the　tallest　medieval　tower　in　Italy。　Built　in　the　thirteenth　century；　the　height　of　a　thirty…three…story　skyscraper。〃　
　〃Amazing。〃　
　〃And　here　is　the　Palazzo　unale。〃　They　entered　a　massive；　unadorned　medieval　palace　built　of　brick。　A　guard　nodded　at　them　as　they　passed　the　entrance；　and　D'Agosta　wondered　if　it　was　Pendergast's　air　of　utter　self…confidence；　or　something　else；　that　allowed　them　such　easy　entry。　He　followed　Pendergast　up　a　flight　of　stairs　and　down　several　stone　corridors　to　a　small；　barren　room。　A　glass　case　stood　in　its　center；　and　an　enormous　Venetian　glass　chandelier　hung　from　above；　bristling　with　lightbulbs　and　giving　the　room　the　brilliance　of　a　movie　set。　An　armed　guard　stood　nearby。　
　In　the　glass　case　were　six　violins。　
　〃Ah！〃　said　Pendergast。　〃Here　we　are：　the　Saletta　dei　Violini。〃　
　〃Violins？〃　
　〃Not　just　any　violins。　What　we　are　looking　at　is　the　history　of　the　violin；　in　one　case。　Which　is；　in　microcosm；　a　history　of　music。〃　
　〃I　see；〃　said　D'Agosta；　letting　a　note　of　sarcasm　creep　into　his　voice。　Pendergast　would；　eventually；　get　to　the　point。　
　〃The　first　one；　there；　was　made　by　Andrea　Amati　in　1566。　You'll　recall　the　violin　Constance　plays　is　also　an　Amati；　though　very　much　inferior　to　these。　Those　two　beside　it　are　by　his　sons；　that　one　by　his　grandson。　That　next　was　built　by　Giuseppe　Guarneri　in　1689。〃　Pendergast　paused。　〃And　that　last　one　was　made　by　Antonio　Stradivari　in　1715。〃　
　〃As　in　Stradivarius？〃　
　〃The　world's　most　celebrated　violinmaker。　He　invented　the　modern　violin　and　during　his　lifetime　made　eleven　hundred；　of　which　about　six　hundred　survive。　Although　all　his　instruments　remain　among　the　greatest　ever　made；　there　was　a　period　when　he　made　a　string　of　violins　that　had　a　most　gloriously　perfect　tone…perhaps　twenty　or　thirty。　We　call　that　his　golden　period。〃　
　〃Okay。〃　
　〃Stradivari　was　a　man　of　many　secrets。　To　this　day；　no　one　has　ever　solved　the　mystery　of　how　he　made　such　perfect　violins。　He　kept　his　methods　and　formulas　in　his　head；　never　wrote　them　down。　He　passed　these　priceless　trade　secrets　on　to　his　two　sons；　who　took　over　his　workshop；　but　when　they　died；　all　Stradivari's　secrets　died　with　them。　Ever　since；　people　have　been　trying　to　duplicate　his　violins。　A　number　of　scientists　have　tried　to　re…create　his　secret　formulas。　But　to　this　day；　Stradivari's　secret　has　never　been　cracked。〃　
　〃They　must　be　worth　a　lot　of　dough。〃　
　〃Not　so　long　ago　you　could　buy　a　good　Strad　for　fifty　or　a　hundred　thousand　dollars。　But　the　market　for　violins　has　been　ruined　by　the　super…rich。　Now　a　top　Strad　can　fetch　ten　million　or　more。〃　
　〃No　shit。〃　
　〃The　best　are　priceless；　especially　those　made　during　his　golden　period。　In　those　instruments；　he　got　the　formula　just　right。　Nobody　really　knows　why。　It's　quite　humbling；　Vincent；　to　realize　we　can　land　a　spaceship　on　Mars；　we　can　build　a　machine　to　perform　a　trillion　calculations　a　second；　we　can　split　the　nucleus　of　the　atom…but　we　still　cannot　make　a　better　violin　than　could　a　man　puttering　around　in　a　simple　workshop　three　centuries　ago。〃　
　〃Well；　hewas　Italian。〃　
　Pendergast　laughed　quietly。　〃One　of　the　beautiful　things　about　a　Strad　is　that　it　has　to　beplayed　in　order　to　maintain　its　tone。　It's　alive。　If　you　leave　it　in　a　case；　it　loses　its　tone　and　dies。〃　
　〃What　about　these？〃　
　〃They　are　taken　out　and　played　at　least　once　a　week。　Cremona　is　still　the　center　of　violinmaking；　and　there　are　many　eager　volunteers。〃　
　He　clasped　his　hands　behind　his　back；　turned。　〃And　now；　for　thereal　reason　we　came　to　Cremona。　Stick　close　behind　me；　please；　and　don't　get　lost。〃　
　Pendergast　led　the　way　through　a　maze　of　back　passages　and　narrow　staircases　to　a　side　alley　behind　the　palazzo。　There　they　paused　at　least　a　minute　while　Pendergast　made　a　careful　inspection　of　the　alley　and　surrounding　buildings。　Then；　moving　very　quickly；　he　led　D'Agosta　through　a　winding　series　of　ever　more　tortuous　medieval　streets；　the　ancient　brick　and　stone　buildings　crowding　in　above。　Some　of　the　streets　were　so　narrow　they　were　dark　despite　the　midday　sun。　Now　and　then；　Pendergast　would　duck　into　a　doorway　or　side　alley　and　make　another　visual　scan。　
　〃What's　up？〃　D'Agosta　asked　at　one　point。　
　〃Just　caution；　Vincent；　habitual　caution。〃　
　They　finally　arrived　at　a　street　so　narrow　it　could　hardly　admit　a　bicycle。　It　twisted　into　a　dead　end　at　what　appeared　to　be　a　deserted　shopfront；　a　plate…glass　window　rudely　affixed　to　a　medieval　stone　arch。　The　plate　glass　was　cracked　and　taped　and　opaque　with　dirt。　A　metal　grate　had　been　fitted　and　locked　over　the　front；　where　it　seemed　to　have　rusted　in　place。　
　Pendergast　slid　his　hand　through　the　grate　and　pulled　a　string。　There　was　a　small　tinkle　in　the　shop　beyond。　
　〃Would　it　promise　your　investigation　pletely　if　you　told　me　who　we're　visiting　now？〃　
　〃This　is　the　laboratory　and　workshop　ofil　dottor　Luigi　Spezi；　one　of　the　world's　foremost　experts　on　Stradivari　violins。　He　is　a　bit　of　a　Renaissance　man　himself；　being　a　scientist　and　engineer　as　well　as　a　fine　musician。　His　re…creations　of　the　Stradivari　violins　are　among　the　best　in　the　world。　But　I　warn　you：　he　is　known　to　be　a　little　cranky。〃　
　Pendergast　pulled　again；　and　a　voice　rumbled　from　the　back。〃Non　lo　voglio。　Va'　via！〃　
　Pendergast　rang　again；　insistently。　
　A　gray　shape　materialized　behind　the　glass：　an　enormous；　stooped　man　in　a　leather　apron　with　long　gray　hair　and　a　gray　mustache。　He　waved　both　hands　at　Pendergast　in　a　shooing　motion。〃Che　cazz'！　Via；　ho　detto！〃　
　Pendergast　took　out　a　business　card；　wrote　a　single　word　on　the　back；　and　slipped　it　through　the　mail　slot　in　the　door。　It　fluttered　to　the　floor。　The　man　picked　it　up；　read　the　back；　and　went　very　still　for　a　moment。　He　looked　up　at　Pendergast；　looked　down　at　the　card…and　then　began　the　laborious　process　of　unlocking　the　door　and　raising　the　grate。　Within　a　minute；　they　had　stooped　beneath　the　arch　and　were　standing　in　his　shop。　
　D'Agosta　looked　around　curiously。　The　walls　of　the　shop　were　almost　pletely　covered　with　the　hanging　bellies；　backplates；　and　purflings　of　violins　in　various　stages　of　carving。　It　had　a　pleasant　smell　of　wood；　sawdust；　varnish；　oil；　and　glue。　
　The　man　stared　at　Pendergast　as　if　he　were　staring　at　a　ghost。　He　was　wearing　a　dirty　leather　apron；　and　he　removed　a　pair　of　sawdust…covered　glasses　in　order　to　peer　at　the　agent　more　closely。　
　〃So；　Aloysius　Pendergast；　Ph。D。；〃　he　said　in　almost　flawless　English。　〃You　have　gotten　my　attention。　What　is　it　you　want？〃　
　〃Is　there　a　place　where　we　can　talk？〃　
　They　followed　him　through　the　confines　of　the　narrow　shop…perhaps　eight　feet　wide…to　a　much　larger　space　in　the　back。　Spezi　indicated　for　them　to　sit　on　a　long　bench。　He　himself　perched　against　the　corner　of　a　worktable；　folded　his　hands；　and　stared。　
　In　the　rear　wall；　D'Agosta　could　see　a　stainless…steel　door；　grossly　out　of　place；　with　a　single　small　window。　On　the　far　side　of　the　window　was　a　gleaming　white　laboratory；　racks　of　puter　equipment　and　CRTs　bathed　in　unpleasant　fluorescent　light。　
　〃Thank　you　for　agreeing　to　see　me；　Dottor　Spezi；〃　Pendergast　said。　〃I　know　you　are　a　very　busy　man；　and　I　can　assure　you　we　will　not　waste　your　time。〃　
　The　man　bowed　his　head；　mollified　slightly。　
　〃This　is　my　associate；　Sergeant　Vincent　D'Agosta　of　the　Southampton　Police　Department；　New　York。〃　
　〃Very　pleased。〃　The　man　leaned　forward　and　shook　his　hand。　He　had　a　surprisingly　strong　grip。　Then　he　sat　back　again　and　waited。　
　〃I　propose　an　exchange　of　information；〃　Pendergast　said。　
　〃As　you　wish。〃　
　〃You　tell　me　what　you　know　of　Stradivari's　secret　formulas。　I　will　tell　you　what　I　know　of　the　existence　of　the　violin　mentioned　on　my　card。　Naturally；　I　will　keep　your　information　secret。　I　will　write　nothing　down　and　speak　to　no　one　about　it；　except　to　my　associate；　who　is　a　man　of　plete　discretion。〃　
　D'Agosta　watched　the　man's　deep　pale　eyes　stare　back　at　them。　He　appeared　to　be　thinking　about；　perhaps　even　struggling　with；　the　proposal。　Finally　he　nodded　curtly。　
　〃Very　well；　then；〃　said　Pendergast。　〃I　wonder　if　you　could　answer　some　questions　about　your　work。〃　
　〃Yes；　but　first：　the　violin。　How　in　the　world…？〃　
　〃First　things　first。　Tell　me；　Dottore…since　I　am　a　man　who　knows　nothing　about　violins…tell　me　what　makes　the　sound　of　a　Stradivarius　so　perfect？〃　
　The　man　seemed　to　relax；　evidently　realizing　he　was　not　dealing　with　a　spy　or　petitor。　〃This　is　no　secret。　I　would　characterize　it　as　very　lively。　It　is　aninteresting　sound。　On　top　of　that；　it　has　a　bination　of　darkness　and　brilliance；　a　balance　between　high　and　low　frequencies…a　tone　that　is　rich　but　as　pure　and　sweet　as　honey。　Of　course；　each　Strad　sounds　different…some　have　a　fatter　tone；　others　are　lean；　even　harsh；　some　are　thin　and　quite　disappointing。　Some　have　been　repa