gns.snakes-第12部分

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s　almost　certainly　locked。　So　certain　that　it　was　a　waste　of　time　even　checking　it。
　　
　　You're　a　cunt；　Peter　Eversham。　Doyle　closed　his　eyes；　clenched　his　fists。　You　might　be　rich　and　clever　but　you're　a　stupid　prick！
　　
　　A　feeling　that　he　might　cry；　that　he　had　only　to　let　himself　go　and　he　would　burst　into　a　flood　of　unstoppable　tears。　He　nearly　did　but　that；　like　that　key　lying　in　the　oil…leaks　from　Eversham's　Jag；　was　just　another　waste　of　time。
　　
　　Stop　panicking　and　think　logically。　First；　you're　safe；　no　way　can　that　snake　get　to　you。　Second；　somebody's　got　to　e　looking　for　you　eventually。　Even　if　the　Evershams　have　gone　to　stay　overnight　somewhere　then　Mother's　going　to　get　anxious　e　tea…time。　She'll　give　you　half　an　hour　then　she'll　phone　PC　Aylott。　They　know　you're　here　and　your　van's　stuck　out　at　the　front　so　when　you　hear　them　you've　only　got　to　give　a　shout。　The　rattlesnake　will　probably　get　bored　with　waiting　and　slither　off　somewhere。　You　just　have　to　sit　it　out。　And　my　flask　and　sandwiches　are　out　there　in　the　van。
　　
　　He　settled　down　on　his　haunches　to　wait；　wished　that　he　could　doze　to　pass　the　time；　but　when　there's　one　of　the　deadliest　snakes　in　the　world　sitting　guard　outside　your　stifling　prison　sleep　does　not　e　easily。　He　looked　at　his　watch　and　groaned。　11。15　a。m。　Seven　bloody　hours　before　Mother　starts　to　get　worried。
　　
　　It　was　some　time　before　he　noticed　the　tiny　circular　hole　in　the　shuttered　door；　about　halfway　up　and　the　size　of　one　of　those　spy…holes　which　they　manufacture　for　house　doors　so　that　the　occupants　can　identify　a　caller　before　opening　up。　A　circle　of　daylight；　made　to　take　the　hook　on　the　end　of　the　rod　standing　in　the　corner；　an　easy　means　of　pushing　up　or　pulling　down　the　shutter。　And　also　a　spy…hole。
　　
　　He　went　over　to　it；　put　his　eye　to　it；　restricted　vision；　but　he　could　see　all　he　wanted　to　see；　or　rather　everything　that　he　did　not　want　to。　The　rattlesnake　had　not　gone　away。　It　had　retired　to　the　small　low　rockery　which　bordered　one　side　of　the　drive；　and　had　curled　itself　up　on　a　flat　piece　of　stone。　A　casual　observer　might　even　have　overlooked　it…until　it　was　too　late！　The　reptile　appeared　to　be　asleep；　basking　in　the　warmth　of　the　midday　sun。　Perhaps　it　was；　but　Keith　had　read　enough　about　snakes　to　know　that　this　one　would　be　awake　and　poised　to　strike　a　lethal　blow　in　a　matter　of　a　second。　No　way　was　he　prepared　to　risk　making　a　run　for　it。
　　
　　Relax；　you've　got　a　long　wait　ahead　of　you。
　　
　　5　p。m。　The　rattler　was　still　there　on　the　rockery　stone。　Keith　peeped　out　at　it；　shuddered。　It　seemed　to　see　him；　but　that　was　impossible。　The　piercing　eyes　glared；　met　his。　I'm　in　no　hurry；　man。　I　can　wait　a　week　if　I　have　to。　You'll　either　die　of　starvation　in　there　or　else　make　a　run　for　it　and　take　your　chance　with　me。　Why　not　give　it　a　try；　see　if　you　can　make　it　to　your　van？
　　
　　No　way。　I'm　OK　in　here　and　if　Eversham　doesn't　e　back　soon　then　the　police　will　e　looking　for　me。　They'll　have　guns；　they'll　blast　you　to　hell。　If　you've　any　sense　you'll　get　the　fuck　out　of　here　whilst　there's　still　time。
　　
　　We'll　see。　The　long　body　moved　slightly；　settled　into　a　more　relaxed；　coiled　position；　an　air　of　permanence　about　it。　It　might　even　have　been　asleep。
　　
　　Keith's　thoughts　moved　back　to　Kirsten。　Oh　Christ；　he　wanted　to　sec　her　tonight　more　than　he　had　done　any　other　night。　And　that　bastard　out　there　was　stopping　him。　His　gaze　alighted　on　a　shovel　propped　up　in　the　corner　and　he　wondered　if　it　was　any　match　for　a　western　diamondback。　If　nobody　came　then　he'd　give　it　a　try；　use　it　as　a　shield　to　keep　the　fangs　at　bay；　then　a　swift　chopping　movement　for　the　kill。
　　
　　He　wondered　what　a　beheaded　snake　looked　like；　did　the　body　keep　on　squirming　like　a　worm's　when　you　cut　it　in　half？　Sever　the　head；　then　chop　the　rest　up　into　little　lengths；　let　them　all　wriggle　together。　Whatever；　he　had　to　see　Kirsten　tonight。
　　
　　He　must　have　slipped　into　an　uneasy　doze　because　suddenly　he　was　sitting　bolt　upright；　eyes　darting　about　the　gloom　of　the　stifling　garage。　What　was　that；　that　fucking　rattler　hadn't　managed　to　find　a　way　in；　for　Christ's　sake；　had　he？
　　
　　Fear　chilled　his　sweat；　had　him　cowering　back　against　the　wall。　He　heard　the　rattle；　a　steady　clicking　like　slow　castanets。　Menacing。　No；　the　bugger　wasn't　in　here　but　it　was　certainly　active　outside。
　　
　　Even　as　he　moved　back　to　his　spy…hole　in　the　shutters　Keith　Doyle　heard　the　sound　of　an　approaching　vehicle；　the　drone　of　a　high…powered　engine　out　on　the　road；　slowing；　almost　stopping。
　　
　　Turning　into　the　wide　driveway。
　　
　　And　suddenly　he　wanted　to　yell　his　jubilation　aloud；　they're　here；　you　fucking　snake　bastard。　They've　arrived　and　you've　left　it　too　late。　You'll　be　blasted　to　pulp。
　　
　　A　sudden　cooling　of　Doyle's　celebrations；　a　foreboding　that　sent　a　warning　chill　up　and　down　his　spine。　Oh　my　God；　they　won't　know　the　rattler's　there；　I've　got　to　warn　them。　He　watched；　waited　until　the　approaching　vehicle　came　into　his　arc　of　vision；　recognised　the　sleek　white　Jaguar；　Eversham　at　the　wheel；　the　blonde　at　his　side；　puzzled　expressions；　saying　something　to　each　other。　The　gardener　did　not　need　to　lip…read　to　know　what　they　were　saying。　'Now　who　the　bloody　hell's　shut　the　garage　up；　and　what's　Doyle's　van　doing　here　at　this　time　of　day？'
　　
　　Keith　thought　for　a　moment　they　were　going　to　swerve　and　pull　up　in　front　of　the　porch。　Instead　the　car　came　straight　on；　eased　up　to　within　a　foot　of　the　garage　shutter　and　stopped　with　the　engine　ticking　over。　The　occupants　were　talking　again；　obviously　puzzled。
　　
　　Keith　switched　his　gaze　from　the　car　to　the　large　flat　rockery　stone；　the　one　on　which　the　rattler　had　lain　for　the　past　seven　hours。　The　snake　was　not　there　any　longer；　there　was　just　the　lump　of　rough　stone　with　creeping　plants　growing　all　around　it。　It　might　never　have　been；　this　terrible　day　might　have　been　just　a　sweltering；　feverish　nightmare。
　　
　　He　had　to　force　himself　back　to　reality；　thrust　away　the　role　of　spectator。　That　Diamondback　was　cunning；　it　had　slid　off　into　the　surrounding　cover；　was　lying　there　waiting　to　strike；　sensing　easy　prey。
　　
　　The　car　door　clicked　smoothly　open　and　Keith　Doyle　saw　the　powerful　figure　of　Peter　Eversham　about　to　emerge。
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　7
　　
　　PETER　EVERSHAM　was　a　stone　overweight　but　disguised　it　with　his　height。　Well　built；　the　hallmark　of　the　affluent；　a　slightly　flushed　plexion　which　he　told　everybody　was　due　to　his　outdoor　activities；　certainly　not　blood　pressure。　Sleek　dark　hair　brushed　straight　back；　a　neatly　clipped　moustache；　his　suits　hand…tailored　out　of　a　tweedish　cloth　to　enforce　his　self…styled　country　squire　role；　and　strengthen　his　claim　to　chairmanship　of　the　Stainforth　Parish　Council。
　　
　　He　rented　the　grouse　shooting　on　Stainforth　Moor；　fished　for　salmon　in　Scotland　and　played　golf　on　Wednesdays　and　Sundays。　He　was　president　of　the　Stainforth　Country　Club　which　was　set　in　its　own　grounds　two　miles　outside　the　village　and　had　very　little　to　do　with　Stainforth。
　　
　　Eversham　owned　the　Eversham　Engineering　pany　Limited　with　its　three　subsidiary　panies。　He　had　made　his　first　million　in　1979　and　doubled　that　by　1982。　Whilst　other　businesses　foundered；　Eversham　Engineering　appeared　to　flourish　during　the　recession。
　　
　　Cynthia　had　insisted　on　acpanying　him　down　to　the　sales　conference　in　Sussex。　She　had　her　reasons；　her　suspicions　about　those　overnight　stops　of　her　husband's　in　Brighton。　But　nothing　untoward　had　occurred；　even　so　Cynthia　was　not　fully　convinced。　Peter　needed　an　eye　kept　on　him；　there　were　too　many　rumours；　allegations；　for　her　liking；　and　if　they　had　not　been　founded　on　truth　then　almost　certainly　Peter　Eversham　would　have　sued　somebody　for　slander。　He　issued　writs　in　the　way　that　many　people　send　greetings　cards　in　the　festive　season。　Cynthia　told　herself　that　if　Peter　could　have　an　extra…marital　affair　with　herself　behind　his　first　wife's　back　then　he　was　equally　capable　of　deceiving　her。
　　
　　They　had　read　about　the　escaped　snakes　in　the　morning　paper　before　leaving　Brighton。　On　the　way　home　they　had　listened　to　several　bulletins　on　the　car　radio。
　　
　　'Doubtless　the　media　have　blown　it　up　out　of　all　proportion。'　Eversham　was　in　the　fast　lane　doing　95；　watching　his　mirror　in　case　a　police　car　hove　into　view；　they　had　experimented　using　helicopters　to　trap　speeding　motorists　some　time　ago　and　he　was　on　the　alert　for　those　also。　With　two　endorsements　already　on　his　licence　he　could　not　risk　a　third。　'The　devil　of　it　all　will　be　the　crowds　of　sightseers　that　will　converge　on　Stainforth。　The　bloody　place　will　look　like　Butlin's　on　August　Bank　Holiday。'
　　
　　'But　there's　no　getting　away　from　the　fact　that　there　are　snakes　on　the　loose　around　Stainforth。'　Cynthia　Eversham　was　tense；　more　so　today　than　she　usually　was　when　sitting　in　the　passenger　seat　alongside　her　husband。　'Couldn't　we　have　stopped　over　in　Brighton　until　next　week？'
　　
　　'Whilst　the　cat's　away　the　mice　will　play；'　he　laughed。　'I　don't　like　leaving　my　business　interests　in　the　care　of　othe