mac.thepearlharbormurders-第3部分

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ually　a　Japanese　teahouse　called　Ikesu　Villa。
　'Take　that　place；〃　O。　B。　said　with　a　nod。　〃It　looks　American；　but　it's　Japanese　through　and　through。〃
　Shortly　after；　at　a　fork　in　the　road；　Hully's　father　turned　right；　into　that　part　of　Waikiki　which　still　most　nearly　remained　in　its　native　state。
　〃You　know；〃　O。　B。　said　reflectively；　the　antagonism　suddenly　gone　from　his　voice；　〃the　funny　thing　is。。。　this　is　as　close　as　I've　ever　been　to　war。　I've　always　been　the　kind　of　guy　who's　late　for　the　thrill…I　always　seem　to　get　to　the　fire　after　it's　out。〃
　Hully　took　a　long　sideways　look　at　his　rugged；　bronzed　fattier…a　man's　man　who　had　been　a　cowboy　and　a　gold　miner；　who　had　served　the　United　States　Cavalry　in　Arizona；　who　had　sailed　the　Panama　Canal。　But　who…as　the　creator　of　Tarzan…had　never　been　to　Africa；　and　not　so　long　ago；　when　MGM　announced　its　next　Weissmuller　epic　would　be　shot　on　the　Dark　Continent；　Hully's　pop　had　been　invited　to　acpany　the　expedition。。。　only　the　war　in　Europe　and　Africa　had　changed　all　that。　Africa　was　off。
　〃And　now　I'm　too　old；〃　his　father　was　saying；　wheeling　into　and　up　the　Niumalu's　crashed　coral　drive。　〃One　last　war；　and　I'm　too　damn　old。〃
　For　the　first　time　in　several　weeks；　Hully　heard　the　familiar　despondency　in　his　father's　voice；　reminding　him　why　he'd　e　here　for　mis　〃vacation〃…a　fear　in　his　family　that　his　father　might　be　contemplating　suicide。
　And　wasn't　mat　ironic；　Hully　thought：　what　a　Japanese　thing　for　O。　B。　to　be　considering。
　
　
　TWO
　A　Nazi　at　the　Niumalu
　
　The　mile　of　romance；　the　Tourist　Bureau　called　it：　that　white　stretch　of　sand　known　as　Waikiki；　extending　from　the　Halekulani　Hotel　and　the　adjacent　inns　and　cottages　to　the　concrete　War　Memorial　Natatorium　in　whose　saltwater　pool　that　former　screen　Tarzan；　Buster　Crabbe；　had　set　records；　warming　up　for　the　Olympics。
　Only　one　major　beachfront　hotel　rested　outside　those　limits；　sequestered　from　the　rest　of　Waikiki　by　Fort　de　Russy：　the　Niumalu；　literally　Spreading　Coconut；　loosely　Sheltering　Palms；　of　which　the　lavishly　landscaped　grounds；　six　acres'　worth；　certainly　had　their　share。。。　and　the　hotel's　hand…lettered　sign　was　rather　informally　nailed　to　one　leaning　palm；　establishing　a　casual　tone　that　permeated　the　place。
　Thirty　clapboard　guest　cottages　were　scattered　about　the　Niumalu's　pleasant　jungle；　with　all　crushed…coral　roads　leading　to　an　impressive　if　squatty…looking　white　stucco　main　building　typical　of　the　Hawaiian　style　of　architecture　prevalent　since　the　late　twenties；　with　its　lampshadelike　double…pitched　roof；　and　a　porte　cochere　supported　by　columns　of　lava　stone　evocative　of　leopard　spots。
　The　lodge；　as　the　guests　referred　to　the　central　building；　had　an　open　interior　with　a　central　rock…garden　courtyard　just　off　a　nightclublike　dining　room　with　a　large　dance　floor　and　bandstand。　The　lobby's　large；　missionlike　arched　portals　also　looked　out　onto　the　courtyard；　and　the　effect　was　open　and　airy；　the　wicker　furnishings　adding　to　a　porchlike　effect。
　Edgar　Rice　Burroughs　had　been　Very　happy　here；　with　his　wife　Florence…his　second　wife…and　he　had　thought　she　felt　the　same。
　Burroughs　had　well　known　the　risks　of　marrying　a　younger　woman。　He　had　been　sixty　and　Florence　thirty…one…as　his　daughter　Joan　had　cruelly　pointed　out；　Florence　was　younger　than　the　duration　of　her　parents'　marriage。　Everyone　seemed　to　be　making　the　assumption　that　he　was　discarding　his　fifty…nine…year…old；　overweight　wife　for　the　slender　shapely　former　actress；　out　of　the　usual　crassly　selfish；　male；　sex…driven　reasons。
　The　truth　was　more　plex。　Emma　had　always　been　plump；　pleasantly　so　in　her　young；　vivacious　days；　a　〃dumpling；〃　as　the　old　parlance　went。　In　the　early　years　of　the　marriage；　even　as　her　tendency　toward　stoutness　increased；　her　intelligence　and　charm　had　made　up　for　her　excess　weight　After　all；　they　had　faced　hardship；　poverty　and　adversity　together；　theirs　had　been　a　marriage　of　closeness；　of　sharing。　Emma　would　read　his　work　and　intelligently　ment；　his　triumphs；　his　failures；　had　been　hers…theirs；　Jane　to　his　Tarzan。
　But　their　interests　had　diverged；　drastically；　over　the　past　twenty　years。　Emma　seemed　to　resent　his　youthful　ways；　shared　not　at　all　his　interest　in　sports　and　the　great　out…of…doors…horseback　riding；　golf；　tennis；　certainly　not　flying。　She　would　chastise　him　for　his　preference　for　the　pany　of　younger　people；　calling　him　〃immature；〃　accusing　him　of　trying　to　〃prove　his　masculinity。〃
　The　latter；　in　a　marriage　that　had　been　sexless　for　some　time；　was　a　particularly　cutting　blow。　But…despite　the　quarrels；　and　the　recriminations…he　had　held　on；　out　of　concern　for　how　his　children　might　react　to　separation　or　divorce。　With　his　business　flourishing；　he　spent　less　and　less　time　at　home；　doing　his　writing　at　the　office；　supervising　the　magazine　serialization　of　his　work；　keeping　an　eye　on　the　ticensing　of　Tarzan　and　other　characters　of　his　to　the　movies；　radio；　and　ics。
　And　all　of　this　was　rewarding…he　thought　of　himself　as　a　businessman　first；　a　writer　second；　an　〃author〃　not　at　all。　He　had　been　the　first　writer　he　knew　of　to　incorporate…ERB；　Inc。…and　even　started　a　publishing　pany；　printing　his　own　books；　to　better　maintain　control　of　the　product；　and　to　maximize　profits。
　And　he　had　made　it　a　family　business；　hiring　Hully　as　his　vice　president；　using　his　older　son；　Jack；　a　successful　mercial　artist；　as　the　illustrator　of　his　book　jackets　and　the　new　〃John　Carter　of　Mars〃　ic　strip；　based　on　his　science…fiction　novels；　set　to　debut　this　Sunday。　He'd　even　hired　his　daughter's　no…good　husband　Jim　Pierce　to　play　Tarzan　on　the　radio。
　No　one　could　say　Ed　Burroughs　was　not　a　family　man；　even　if　he　did　spend　most　of　his　time　away　from　home；　at　the　office。　But　few　on　this　earth　knew…besides　his　children；　if　they　would　admit　it…how　he　had　dreaded　to　e　home；　at　the　end　of　a　long　day。　And　even　the　kids　could　only　guess　that　behind　the　happy　moments　of　the　marriage…and　there　had　been　some；　even　in　the　later　years…hovered　a　specter　of　fear　of　what　he　knew　would　inevitably　e　the　next　day　or　the　next。。。。
　He　blamed　himself。　He'd　always　been　proud　of　the　way　he　could　hold　his　liquor；　and　had　urged　Emma…　who　had　no　tolerance　for　alcohol　at　all；　and　whose　personality　changed　radically　under　the　influence…to　moderate　her　drinking。　They　had　been　party　goers　for　years；　but　as　Emma's　problem　worsened；　he　had　cut　back　on　the　invitations　they　accepted；　and　didn't　stay　long　at　the　parties　they　did　attend。
　And　so　Emma　had　begun　to　drink　at　home。　Alone…　in　secret；　that　open　secret　the　families　of　all　alcoholics　know　too　well。
　He　never　knew　what　condition　he　would　find　her　in…she　might　be　in　a　vicious　state　or　a　atose　one。　Whatever　the　case；　countless　hours　of　hideous　suffering　for　both　of　them　followed。　Once　he　flew　into　a　rage　and　dumped　all　of　her　liquor　into　the　swimming　pool…　of　course；　since　it　had　no　filtration　system；　the　pool　had　probably　only　benefited　from　the　alcohol's　sterilizing　effect。
　He　had　never　wished　to　make　Emma　unhappy。　But　he　could　not　overlook　how　horribly　unhappy　she　had　made　him；　she　treated　her　pet　dog　more　kindly。　Ten　years　before　he　left　her；　Emma　had　said　to　him　mat　she　no　longer　liked　him…for　some　reason；　those　simple　words　had　inflicted　a　wound　that　had　never　heated。　Many　people…friends　and　strangers　alike；　their　appetites　for　the　misfortunes　of　others　fed　by　lice　tike　Walter　Winchell　and　other　low…life　gossipmongers…　assumed　his　relationship　with　Florence　preceded；　even　initiated；　the　breakup　with　Emma。
　It　was　true　he'd　known　Florence　for　some　years；　had　admired　her　at　a　distance　（she　was　the　wife　of　a　Mend；　the　producer　of　his　ill…fated　Tarzan　movie；　which　he'd　backed　as　an　antidote　to　the　unfaithful　MGM　versions　of　his　work）。　He'd　felt　unrequited　schoolboy　pangs　of　love　for　her；　before　she　even　knew　he　existed。
　With　her　fair；　curly　hair；　and　her　apple…cheeked　wholesome　beauty；　Florence　had　been　a　popular　child　actress　in　the　silent…movie　days；　a　second　Mary　Pick…ford　with　a　series　of　two…reelers　for　Mack　Sennett　leading　to　starring　roles　in　features。　When　talkies　came　in；　she　had　begun　to　raise　a　family　with　her　producer　husband；　Ashton　Dearholt；　that　good　friend　of　Burroughs。　But　Burroughs　and　Florence　had　been　thrown　together　when　his　own　separation　was　quickly　followed　by　Florence's　husband　throwing　her　over…for　an　actress　he　had　met　on　the　Guatemala　film　shoot　of　the　ill…starred　Tarzan　picture！　Hell；　even　Burroughs　wouldn't　have　dared　put　together　a　plot　so　contrived…　but；　like　two　lost　souls；　he　and　Florence　had　drifted　together。
　That　Florence　and　Burroughs's　daughter　Joan　had　been　good　friends　made　the　awkward　situation　ever　more　strained。　Hully　and　Jack；　who　had　witnessed　their　mother's　alcoholic　madness；　understood　far　better；　and　tried　to　make　peace；　but　Joan　avoided　him；　for　years；　and　never　spoke　to　Florence　again。
　Perhaps　it　was　inevitable　that　he　and　Florence　would　wind　up　in　Hawaii…they　had　honeymooned　there；　delightfully；　in　1935。　But　his　return　to　Oahu　in　1940　had　been　in　part　financially　motivated。　The　pulp　magazines…his　major　serialization　market…had　lowered　their　pay　rates；　due　to　the　squeeze　of　the　Depression；　and　the　European　war