bl.necroscope2-第84部分

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　Gerenko　climbed　into　his　chair；　put　on　a　desk　lamp　and　aimed　its　light　at　her。　He　steepled　his　hands　in　front　of　him；　shook　his　head　almost　sadly。　〃You　accuse　me？　And　yet　you　were　party　to　it。　You　drained　his　mind。〃
　〃I　did　not！〃　She　came　forward。　Her　face　was　working；　full　of　anger。　〃I　merely　read　his　thoughts　as　they　flooded　out　of　him。　Your　technicians　drained　him。〃
　Unbelievably；　Gerenko　chuckled。　〃Mechanical　necromancy；　yes。〃
　She　slammed　her　hand　flat　down　on　the　desk　top。　〃But　he　wasn't　dead！〃
　Gerenko's　shrivelled　lips　curled　into　a　sneer。　〃He　is　now；　or　as　good　as。　。
　〃Krakovitch　is　loyal；　and　he's　Russian。〃　She　wouldn't　be　stopped。　〃And　yet　you'll　murder　him　too。　And　that　really　would　be　murder！　You　must　be　mad！〃　And　in　that　she　had　hit　upon　the　truth。　For　Gerenko's　warps　weren't　only　in　his　body。
　〃That…is…enough！〃　he　snarled。　〃Now　you　listen　to　me；　rade。　You　speak　of　my　ambition。　But　if　I　grow　strong；　Russia　herself　grows　that　much　stronger。　Yes；　for　we　are　one　and　the　same。　You？　You've　not　been　Russian　long　enough　to　know　that。　This　country's　strength　lies　in　its　people！　Krakovitch　was　weak；　and　…；　〃Was？〃　Her　arms　trembled　where　she　leaned　forward；　knuckles　white　on　the　edge　of　his　desk。
　He　suddenly　felt　that　she　had　grown　very　dangerous。
　He　would　make　one　last　effort。　〃Listen；　Zek。　The　Party　Leader　is　a　weak　old　man。　He　can't　go　on　much　longer。
　The　next　leader；　however　…〃
　〃Andropov？〃　Her　eyes　went　wide。　〃I　can　read　it　in　your　mind；　rade。　Is　that　how　it　will　be？　That　KGB　thug？　The　man　you　already　call　your　master！〃
　Gerenko's　faded　eyes　suddenly　narrowed；　their　slits　blazing　with　his　own　anger。　〃When　Brezhnev　is　gone　…〃
　〃But　he　isn't；　not　yet！〃　She　was　shouting　now。　〃And　when　he　learns　of　this　。　。
　That　was　an　error；　a　bad　one。　Even　Brezhnev　couldn't　harm　Gerenko；　not　personally；　not　physically。　But　he　could　have　it　done　for　him…at　a　distance。　He　could　have　Gerenko's　state　flat　in　Moscow　booby…trapped。　Once　a　booby…trap　is　set；　no　man's　hand　is　involved。　From　then　on　the　thing　is　entirely　automatic。　Or　Gerenko　could　wake　up　one　morning　and　find　himself　behind　bars…and　then　they　could　forget　to　feed　him！　His　talent　did　have　certain　limitations。
　He　stood　up。　In　his　child's　hand　was　an　automatic；　taken　from　a　drawer　in　the　desk。　His　voice　was　a　whisper。　〃Now　you　will　listen　to　me；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　will　tell　you　exactly　how　it　is　going　to　be。　First；　you　won't　speak　of　this　matter　or　even　mention　it　again；　not　to　anyone。　You've　been　sworn　to　secrecy　here　at　the　Chateau。　Break　your　trust　and　I'll　break　you！　Second：　you　say　we　are　not　at　war。　But　you　have　a　short　memory。　The　British　espers　declared　war　against　E…Branch　nine　months　ago。　And　they　came　close　to　destroying　the　organisation　utterly！　You　were　new　here　then；　you　were　away　somewhere；　holidaying　with　your　father。　You　saw　nothing　of　it。　But　let　me　tell　you　that　if　this　Harry　Keogh　of　theirs　were　still　alive。。。〃　He　paused　for　breath；　and　F？ener　bit　her　tongue　to　keep　from　telling　him　the　truth：　that　indeed　Harry　Keogh　was　still　alive；　however　helpless。
　〃Third；〃　he　finally　continued；　〃I　could　kill　you　now…on　the　spot；　shoot　you　dead…and　no　one　would　even　question　me　about　it。　If　they　did；　I　would　say　that　I　had　had　my　suspicions　about　you　for　a　long　time。　I　would　tell　them　that　your　work　had　driven　you　mad；　and　that　you　threatened　me；　threatened　E…Branch。　You　are　quite　correct；　Zek；　the　Party　Leader　puts　a　deal　of　faith　in　the　branch。　He　is　fond　of　it。　Under　old　Gregor　Borowitz　it　served　him　well。　What；　a　woman；　mad；　running　around　loose　here；　threatening　irreparable　damage？　Of　course　I　should　shoot　her！　And　I　will…if　you　don't　mark　each　word　I　say　most　carefully。　Do　you　think　anyone　would　believe　your　accusation？　Where's　the　proof？　In　your　head？　In　your　addled　head！　Oh；　they　just　might　believe；　I'll　grant　you　that…but　what　if　they　didn't？　And　would　I　sit　still　and　simply　let　you　have　it　all　your　own　way？　Would　Theo　Dolgikh　sit　still　for　that？　You　have　any　easy　time　here；　Zek。　Ah；　but　there　are　other　jobs　in　other　places　for　a　strong　young　woman　in　the　USSR。　After　your…rehabilitation？…doubtless　they'd　find　you　one　。　。
　Again　he　paused；　put　away　the　gun。　He　saw　that　he　had　made　his　point。
　〃Now　get　out　of　here；　but　don't　leave　the　Chateau。　I　want　a　report　on　everything　you　learned　from　Kyle。　Everything。　The　initial　report　may　be　brief；　an　outline。　I'll　have　that　by　midday　tomorrow。　The　final　report　will　be　detailed　down　to　the　last　minutia。　Do　you　understand？〃
　She　stood　looking　at　him；　bit　her　lip。
　〃Well？〃
　Finally　she　nodded；　blinked　away　tears　of　frustration；　turned　on　her　heel。　On　her　way　out；　he　softly　said；　〃Zek；〃　and　she　paused。　But　she　didn't　face　him。　〃Zek；　you　have　a　great　future。　Remember　that。　And　really；　that's　the　only　choice　you　have。　A　great　future…or　none　at　all。〃
　Then　she　left　and　closed　the　door　behind　her。
　She　went　to　her　own　small　suite　of　rooms；　the　austere　quarters　she　used　when　she　was　not　on　duty；　and　threw　herself　down　on　her　bed。　To　hell　with　his　report。　She'd　do　it　in　her　own　time；　if　she　did　it　at　all。　For　what　use　would　she　be　to　Gerenko　once　he　knew　what　she　knew？
　After　a　little　while　she　managed　to　pose　herself　and　tried　to　sleep。　But　though　she　was　weary　to　death；　she　tried　in　vain　。　。
　
　
　Chapter　Sixteen
　Wednesday；　11。45　P。M。…fifteen　minutes　to　midnight　in　Hartlepool　on　England's　north…east　coast…and　a　thin　drizzling　rain　turning　the　empty　streets　shiny　black。　The　last　bus　for　the　colliery　villages　along　the　coast　had　left　the　town　half　an　hour　ago；　the　pubs　and　cinemas　had　all　turned　out；　grey　cats　slinked　in　the　alleys　and　a　last　handful　of　people　headed　for　their　homes　on　a　night　when　it　simply　wasn't　worth　being　out。
　But　in　a　certain　house　on　the　Blackhall　Road　there　was　a　muted　measure　of　activity。　In　the　garret　flat；　Brenda　Keogh　had　fed　her　baby　son　and　put　him　down　for　the　night　and　was　now　preparing　herself　for　bed。　In　the　hitherto　empty　first　floor　flat；　Darcy　Clarke　and　Guy　Roberts　sat　in　near…darkness；　Roberts　nodding　off　to　sleep　and　Clarke　listening　with　an　anxious　awareness　to　the　timbers　of　the　old　house　creaking　as　they　settled　for　the　night。　Downstairs　in　the　ground　floor　flat；　its　permanent　〃residents〃；　two　Special　Branch　men；　were　playing　cards　while　a　uniformed　policeman　made　coffee　and　looked　on。　In　the　entrance　hail　a　second　uniformed　officer　kept　his　vigil　just　inside　the　door；　smoking　a　slightly　damp　and　ill…made　cigarette　while　he　sat　in　an　unfortable　wooden　chair　and　wondered　for　the　tenth　time　just　what　he　was　doing　here。
　To　the　Special　Branch　men　it　was　old　hat：　they　were　here　for　the　protection　of　the　girl　in　the　garret　flat。　She　didn't　know　it；　but　they　weren't　just　good　neighbours；　they　were　her　minders。　Hers　and　little　Harry's。　They'd　looked　after　her　for　the　better　part　of　a　year；　and　in　all　of　that　time　no　one　had　so　much　as　blinked　at　her；　theirs　must　be　the　cushiest；　best　paid　number　in　the　entire　length　and　breadth　of　the　security　business！　As　for　the　two　uniformed　men：　they　were　on　overtime；　kept　over　from　the　middle　shift　to　do　〃special〃　duties。　They　should　have　gone　off　home　at　10。00　P。M。；　but　it　appeared　there　was　this　bloody　maniac　on　the　loose；　and　the　girl　upstairs　was　thought　to　be　one　of　his　targets。　That　was　all　they'd　been　told。　All　very　mysterious。
　On　the　other　hand；　in　the　flat　above；　Clarke　and　Roberts　knew　exactly　why　they　were　here…and　also　what　they　were　up　against。　Roberts　uttered　a　quiet　snort　and　his　head　lolled　where　he　sat　close　to　the　curtained　window　in　the　living…room。　He　gave　a　grunt　and　straightened　himself　up　a　little；　and　in　the　next　moment　began　to　nod　again。　Clarke　scowled　at　him　without　malice；　turned　up　his　collar　and　rubbed　his　hands　for　warmth。　The　room　felt　damp　and　cold。
　Clarke　would　have　liked　to　put　on　a　light　but　didn't　dare；　this　flat　was　supposed　to　be　empty　and　that　was　the　way　it　must　appear。　No　fires；　no　lights；　as　little　movement　as　possible。　All　they'd　allowed　themselves　by　way　of　fort　was　an　electric　kettle　and　a　jar　of　instant　coffee。　Well；　a　little　more　than　that。　forting　too　was　the　fact　that　earlier　in　the　day　a　flame　thrower　had　been　delivered　to　Roberts；　and　both　men　had　crossbows。
　Clarke　picked　up　his　crossbow　now　and　looked　at　it。　It　was　loaded；　with　the　safety　on。　How　dearly　he　would　love　to　sight　it　on　Yulian　Bodescu's　black　heart。　He　scowled　again　and　put　the　weapon　down；　lit　up　and　drew　deeply　on　one　of　his　rare　cigarettes。　He　was　feeling　tired　and　miserable；　and　not　a　little　nervous。　That　was　probably　to　be　expected；　but　he　put　it　down　to　the　fact　that　he'd　been　taking　his　coffee　blacker　and　blacker；　until　he　felt　sure　his　blood　must　now　be　at　least　seventy…five　per　cent　pure　caffeine！　He'd　been　here　since　the　early　hours　of　the　morning；　and　so　far…nothing。　At　least　he　had　that　much　to　be　thankful　for。
　Down　in　the　entrance　hall；　Constable　Dave　Collins　quietly　opened　the　door　of　the　flat；　looked　into　the　living…room。　〃Stand　in　for　me；　Joe；〃　he　said　to　his　colleague。　〃Five　minutes　for　a　breath　of　fresh　air。　I'm　going　to　stretch　my　legs　down　the　road　a　bit。〃
　The　other　glanced　once　more　at　the　Special　Branch　men　at　their　game；　stood　up　and　began　buttoning　his　jack