df.theedge-第6部分

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　　The　actor；　Robbie；　on　the　top　floor；　had　been　of　enormous　use　to　me；　though　I　doubted　he　really　knew　it。　He'd　invited　me　up　for　a　beer　early　one　evening　a　few　days　after　I　went　to　live　there；　and　I'd　found　him　sitting　before　a　brightly　lit　theatrical　dressing　table　creating；　as　he　said；　a　new　make…up　for　a　part　he'd　accepted　in　a　play。　I'd　been　startled　to　see　how　a　different　way　of　brushing　his　hair；　how　a　large　false　moustache　and　heavier　eyebrows　had　changed　him。
　　'Tools　of　the　trade；'　he　said；　gesturing　to　the　grease　paints　and　false　hair　lying　in　neat　rows　and　boxes　before　him。　'Instant　stubble；　Fauntleroy　curls…what　would　you　like？'
　　'Curls；'　I　said　slowly。
　　'Sit　down；　then；'　he　said　cheerfully；　getting　up　to　give　me　his　place；　and　he　brought　out　a　butane　hair　curler　and　wound　my　almost　straight　hair　on　to　it　bit　by　bit　there　and　then；　and　within　minutes　I　looked　like　a　brown　poodle；　tousled；　unbrushed；　totally　different。
　　'How's　that？'　he　said；　bending　to　look　with　me　into　the　looking　glass。
　　'Amazing。'　And　easy；　I　thought。　I　could　do　it　in　the　car；　any　time。
　　'It　suits　you；'　Robbie　said。　He　knelt　down　beside　me；　put　his　arm　round　my　shoulders；　gave　me　a　little　squeeze　and　smiled　with　unmistakable　invitation　into　my　eyes。
　　'No；'　I　said　matter　of　factly　'I　like　girls。'
　　He　wasn't　offended。　'Haven't　you　ever　tried　the　other？'
　　'It's　just　not　me；　dear；'　I　said；　'as　one　might　say。'
　　He　laughed　and　took　his　arm　away。　'Never　mind；　then。　No　harm　in　trying。'
　　We　drank　the　beer　and　he　showed　me　how　to　shape　and　stick　on　a　bold　macho　moustache；　holding　out　a　pair　of　thick…framed　glasses　for　good　measure。　I　regarded　the　stranger　looking　back　at　me　from　the　glass　and　said　I'd　never　realized　how　easy　it　was　to　mislead
　　'Sure　thing。　All　it　takes　is　a　bit　of　nerve。'
　　And　he　was　right　about　that。　I　bought　a　butane　curler　for　myself；　but　I　took　it　with　me　for　a　week　in　the　car　before　I　screwed　myself　up　to　stop　in　a　lay…by　on　the　way　to　Newbury　races　and　actually　use　it。　In　the　three　years　since　then；　I'd　done　it　dozens　of　times　without　a　thought；　brushing　and　damping　out　the　effects　on　the　way　home。
　　Sundays　I　usually　spent　lazily　in　my　two　big　bright　rooms　on　the　first　floor　（the　barrister　directly　above；　the　sisters　below）　sleeping；　reading；　pottering　about。　For　about　a　year　some　time　earlier　I'd　spent　my　Sundays　with　the　daughter　of　one　of　the　Hobbs　Sandwich　members；　but　it　had　been　a　mutual　passing　pleasure　rather　than　a　grand　passion　for　both　of　us；　and　in　the　end　she'd　drifted　away　and　married　someone　else。　I　supposed　I　too　would　marry　one　day：　knew　I　would　like　to：　felt　there　was　no　hurry　this　side　of　thirty。
　　On　the　Sunday　morning　after　meeting　the　Brigadier　in　the　club　I　began　to　think　about　what　I　should　pack　for　Canada。　He'd　told　me　to　be　what　I　spent　so　much　time　not　being；　a　rich　young　loafer　with　nothing　to　do　but　enjoy　myself。　'All　you　need　to　do　is　talk　about　horses　to　the　other　passengers　and　keep　your　eyes　open。'
　　'Yes；　'I　said。
　　'Look　the　part。'
　　'Yes；　right。'
　　'I've　caught　sight　of　you　sometimes　at　the　races；　you　know；　looking　like　a　stockbroker　one　day　and　a　hillbilly　the　next。　Millington　says　he　often　can't　see　you；　even　though　he　knows　you're　there。'
　　'I've　got　better　with　practice；　I　suppose；　but　I　never　really　do　much。　Change　my　hair；　change　my　clothes；　slouch　a　bit。'
　　'It　works；'　he　said。　'Be　what　Filmer　would　expect。'
　　It　wasn't　so　much　what　Filmer　would　expect；　I　thought；　looking　at　the　row　of　widely　assorted　jackets　in　my　wardrobe；　but　what　I　could　sustain　over　the　ten　days　the　party　was　due　to　take　before　it　broke　up。
　　Curls；　for　instance；　were　out；　as　they　disappeared　in　ram。　Stuck…on　moustaches　were　out　in　case　they　came　off。　Spectacles　were　out；　as　one　could　forget　to　put　them　on。　I　would　have　to　look　basically　as　nature　had　ordained　and　be　as　nondescript　and　unnoticeable　as　possible。
　　I　sorted　out　the　most　expensive　and　least　worn　of　my　clothes；　and　decided　I'd　better　buy　new　shirts；　new　shoes　and　a　cashmere　sweater　before　I　went。
　　I　telephone　Millington　on　Monday　morning　as　instructed　and　found　him　in　his　usual　state　of　disgruntlement。　He　had　heard　about　the　train。　He　was　not　in　favour　of　my　going　on　it。　The　Security　Service　（meaning　the　Brigadier）　should　have　sent　a　properly　trained　operative；　an　ex…policeman　preferably。　Like　himself；　for　instance。　Someone　who　knew　the　techniques　of　investigation　and　could　be　trusted　not　to　destroy　vital　evidence　through　ignorance　and　clumsiness。　I　listened　without　interruption　for　so　long　that；　in　the　end；　he　said　sharply；　'Are　you　still　there？'
　　'Yes；'　I　said
　　'I　want　to　see　you；　preferably　later　this　morning。　I'll　have　your　air　ticket　I　suppose　you　do　have　an　up…to…date　passport？'
　　We　agreed　to　meet；　as　often　before；　in　a　reasonably　good　small　snack…bar　next　to　Victoria　Station；　convenient　for　both　Millington　who　lived　a　couple　of　miles　south…west　across　Battersea　Bridge；　and　for　me　a　few　stops　down　the　line　to　the　south。
　　I　arrived　ten　minutes　before　the　appointed　time　and　found　Millington　already　sitting　at　a　table　with　a　mug　of　brown　liquid　and　several　sausage　rolls　in　progress。　I　took　a　tray；　slid　it　along　the　rails　in　front　of　the　glass…fronted　serving　display　and　picked　a　slice　of　cheesecake　from　behind　one　of　the　small　hinged　doors。　I　actually　approved　of　the　glass…door　arrangement：　it　meant　that　with　luck　one's　cheesecake　wouldn't　have　been　sneezed　on　by　the　general　public；　but　only　by　a　cook　or　two　and　the　snack…bar　staff。
　　Millington　eyed　my　partially　hygienic　wedge　and　said　he　preferred　the　lemon　meringue　pie；　himself。
　　'I　like　that　too；'　I　said　equably。
　　Millington　was　a　big　beer…and…any…kind…of…pie　man　who　must　have　given　up　thankfully　on　weight　control　when　he　left　the　police。　He　looked　as　if　he　now　weighed　about　seventeen　stone；　and　while　not　gross　was　definitely　a　solid　mass；　but　with　an　agility　also　that　he　put　to　good　use　in　his　job。　Many　petty　racecourse　crooks　had　made　the　mistake　of　believing　Millington　couldn't　snake　after　them　like　an　eel　through　the　crowds；　only　to　feel　the　hand　of　retribution　falling　weightily　on　their　collar。　I'd　seen　Millington　catch　a　dipping　pickpocket　on　the　wind；　an　impressive　sight
　　The　large　convenience…food　snack…bar；　bright　and　clean；　was　always　infernally　noisy；　pop　music　thumping　away　to　the　acpaniment　of　chairs　scraping　the　floor　and　the　clatter　of　meals　at　a　gallop。　The　clientele　were　mostly　travellers；　ing　or　going　on　trains　lacking　buffet　cars；　starving　or　prudent；　travellers　checking　their　watches；　gulping　too…hot　coffee；　uninterested　in　others；　leaving　in　a　hurry。　No　one　ever　gave　Millington　and　me　a　second　glance；　and　no　one　could　ever　have　overheard　what　we　said。
　　We　never　met　there　when　there　was　racing　at　places　like　Plumpton；　Brighton；　Lingfield　and　Folkestone；　on　those　days　the　whole　racing　circus　could　wash　through　Victoria　Station。　We　never　met；　either；　anywhere　near　the　Security　Service　head　office　in　the　Jockey　Club；　in　Portman　Square。　It　was　odd；　I　sometimes　thought；　that　I'd　never　once　been　through　my　employer's　door。
　　Millington　said；　'I　don't　approve　of　you　travelling　with　Filmer。'
　　'So　I　gathered；'　I　said。　'You　said　so　earlier。'
　　'The　man's　a　murderer　'
　　He　wasn't　concerned　for　my　safety；　of　course；　but　thought　me　unequal　to　the　contest。
　　'He　may　not　actually　murder　anyone　on　the　train；'　I　said　flippantly。
　　'It's　no　joke；'　he　said　severely。　'And　after　this　he'll　know　you；　and　you'll　be　no　use　to　us　on　the　racecourse；　as　far　as　he's　concerned。'
　　'There　are　about　fifty　people　going　on　the　trip；　the　Brigadier　said。　I　won't　push　myself　into　Filmer's　notice。　He　quite　likely　won't　remember　me　afterwards。'
　　'You'll　be　too　close　to　him；'　Millington　said　obstinately。
　　'Well；'　I　said　thoughtfully；　'it's　the　only　chance　we've　ever　had　so　far　to　get　really　close　to　him　at　all。　Even　if　he's　only　going　along　for　a　harmless　holiday；　we'll　know　a　good　deal　more　about　him　this　way。'
　　'I　don't　like　wasting　you；'　Millington　said；　shaking　his　head。
　　I　looked　at　him　in　real　surprise。　'That's　a　change；'　I　said。
　　'I　didn't　want　you　working　for　us；　to　begin　with；'　he　said；　shrugging。　'Didn't　see　what　good　you　could　do；　thought　it　was　stupid。　Now　you're　my　eyes。　The　eyes　in　the　back　of　my　head；　that　the　villains　have　been　plaining　about　ever　since　you　started。　I've　got　the　sense　to　know　it。　And　if　you　must　know；　I　don't　want　to　lose　you。　I　told　the　Brigadier　we　were　wasting　our　trump　card；　sending　you　on　that　train。　He　said　we　might　be　playing　it；　and　if　we　could　get　rid　of　Filmer；　it　was　worth　it。'
　　I　looked　at　Millington's　worried　face。　I　said　slowly；　'Do　you；　and　does　the　Brigadier；　know　something　about　Filmer's　travel　plans　that　you've　not　told　me？'
　　'When　he　said　that；'　Millington　said；　looking　down　at　his　sausage　rolls；　'I　asked　him　that　same　question。　He　didn't　answer。　I　don't　know　of　anything　myself。　I'd　tell　you；　if　I　did。'
　　Perhaps　he　would；　I　thought。　Perhaps　he　wouldn't。
　　The　next　day；　Tuesday；　I　drove　north　to　Nottingham　for　a　normal　day's　hard　work　hanging　around　doing　nothing　much　at　the　races。
　　I'd　bought　t