tc.patriotgames-第41部分

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　some　already　assembled　by　the　now…exasperated　father　of　a　little　girl。　
　　　　〃You　ought　to　let　me　do　that。〃
　　　　〃This　is　man's　work；〃　her　husband　said。　He　sat　the　screwdriver　down　and　sipped　at　a　glass　of　champagne。
　　　　〃You　chauvinist　pig！　If　I　let　you　do　this　by　yourself；　you　wouldn't　be　finished　by　Easter。〃
　　　　She　was　right；　Jack　told　himself。　Doing　it　half…drunk　wasn't　all　that　hard。　Doing　it　one…handed　was　hard　but　not　insurmountable。　Doing　it　one…handed　and　half…drunk　was　。　。　。　The　damned　screws　didn't　want　to　stay　in　the　plastic；　and　the　instructions　for　putting　a　V…8　engine　together　had　to　be　easier　than　this！
　　　　〃Why　is　it　that　a　doll　needs　a　house？〃　Jack　asked　plaintively。　〃I　mean；　the　friggin'　doll's　already　in　a　house；　isn't　she？〃　
　　　　〃It　must　be　hard；　being　a　chauvinist　pig。　You　dodos　just　don't　understand　anything；〃　Cathy　noted　sympathetically。　〃I　guess　men　never　get　over　baseball　bats　　all　those　simple；　one…piece　toys。〃
　　　　Jack's　head　turned　slowly。　〃Well；　the　least　you　could　do　is　have　another　glass　of　wine。〃
　　　　〃One's　the　weekly　limit；　Jack。　I　did　have　a　big　glass；〃　she　reminded　him。
　　　　〃And　made　me　drink　the　rest。〃
　　　　〃You　bought　the　bottle；　Jack。〃　She　picked　it　up。　〃Big　one；　too。〃
　　　　Ryan　turned　back　to　the　Barbie　Doll　house。　He　thought　he　remembered　when　the　Barbie　Doll　had　been　invented；　a　simple；　rather　curvy　doll；　but　still　just　a　damned　doll；　something　that　girls　played　with。　It　hadn't　occurred　to　him　then　that　he　might　someday　have　a　little　girl　of　his　own。　The　things　we　do　for　our　kids；　he　told　himself。　Then　he　laughed　quietly　at　himself。　Of　course　we　do；　and　we　enjoy　it。　Tomorrow　this　will　be　a　funny　memory；　like　the　Christmas　morning　last　year　when　I　nearly　put　this　very　screwdriver　through　the　palm　of　my　hand。　If　he　didn't　enlist　his　wife's　assistance；　Ryan　told　himself；　Santa　would　be　planning　next　year's　flight　before　he　finished。　Jack　took　a　deep　breath　and　swallowed　his　pride。　
　　　　〃Help。〃
　　　　Cathy　checked　her　watch。　〃That　took　about　forty　minutes　longer　than　I　expected。〃　
　　　　〃I　must　be　slowing　down。〃
　　　　〃Poor　baby；　having　to　drink　all　that　champagne　all　by　himself。〃　She　kissed　him　on　the　forehead。　〃Screwdriver。〃　
　　　　He　handed　it　to　her。　Cathy　took　a　quick　look　at　the　plans。　〃No　wonder；　you　dummy。　You're　using　a　short　screw　when　you're　supposed　to　use　a　long　one。〃
　　　　〃I　keep　forgetting　that　I'm　married　to　a　high…priced　mechanic。〃
　　　　〃That's　real　Christmas　spirit。　Jack。〃　She　grinned　as　she　turned　the　screw　into　place。
　　　　〃A　very　pretty；　smart；　and　extremely　lovable　high…priced　mechanic。〃　He　ran　a　finger　down　the　back　of　her　neck。　
　　　　〃That's　a　little　better。〃　
　　　　〃Who's　better　with　tools　than　I　am；　one…handed。〃　
　　　　Her　head　turned　to　reveal　the　sort　of　smile　a　wife　saves　only　for　the　husband　she　loves。　〃Give　me　another　screw。　Jack；　and　I'll　forgive　you。〃　
　　　　〃Don't　you　think　you　should　finish　the　doll　house　first？〃　
　　　　〃Screw；　dammit！〃　He　handed　her　one。　〃You　have　a　one…track　gutter；　but　I　forgive　you　anyway。〃
　　　　〃Thanks。　If　it　didn't　work；　though；　I　had　something　else　planned。〃　
　　　　〃Oh；　did　Santa　e　for　me；　too？〃　
　　　　〃I'm　not　sure。　I'll　check　in　a　few　minutes。〃
　　　　〃You　didn't　do　bad；　considering；〃　his　wife　said；　finishing　off　the　orange　plastic　roof。　〃That's　it；　isn't　it？〃　
　　　　〃Last　one；〃　Jack　confirmed。　〃Thanks　for　the　assist；　babe。〃　
　　　　〃Did　I　ever　tell　you　what　　no；　I　didn't。　It　was　one　of　the　ladies…in…waiting。　I　never　did　find　out　what　they　were　waiting　for。　Anyway；　this　one　countess　。　。　。　she　was　right　out　of　Gone　With　the　Wind；〃　Cathy　said　with　a　chuckle。　It　was　his　wife's　favorite　epithet　for　useless　women。　〃She　asked　me　if　I　did　needlepoint。〃　
　　　　Not　the　sort　of　thing　you　ask　my　wife。　Jack　grinned　at　the　windows。　〃And　you　said　。　。　。　〃　
　　　　〃Only　on　eyeballs。〃　A　sweet；　nasty　smile。　
　　　　〃Oooh。　I　hope　that　wasn't　over　lunch。〃
　　　　〃Jack！　You　know　me　better　than　that。　She　was　nice　enough；　and　she　played　a　pretty　good　piano。〃　
　　　　〃Good　as　yours？〃
　　　　〃No。〃　His　wife　smiled　at　him。　Jack　reached　out　to　squeeze　the　tip　of　her　nose。
　　　　〃Caroline　Ryan；　MD；　liberated　woman；　instructor　in　ophthalmic　surgery；　world…famous　player　of　classical　piano；　wife　and　mother；　takes　no　crap　off　anybody。〃　
　　　　〃Except　her　husband。〃
　　　　〃When's　the　last　time　I　ever　won　an　exchange　with　you？〃　Jack　asked。
　　　　〃Jack；　we're　not　in　petition。　We're　in　love。〃　She　leaned　toward　him。
　　　　〃I　won't　argue　with　you　on　that；〃　he　said　quietly　before　kissing　his　wife's　offered　lips。　〃How　many　people　do　you　suppose　are　still　in　love　after　all　the　time　we've　been　married？〃　
　　　　〃Just　the　lucky　ones；　you　old　fart。　'All　the　time　we've　been　married'！〃
　　　　Jack　kissed　her　again　and　rose。　He　walked　carefully　around　the　sea　of　toys　toward　the　tree　and　returned　with　a　small　box　wrapped　in　green　Christmas　paper。　He　sat　down　beside　his　wife；　his　shoulder　against　hers　as　he　dropped　the　box　in　her　lap。　
　　　　〃Merry　Christmas；　Cathy。〃
　　　　She　opened　the　box　as　greedily　as　a　child；　but　neatly；　using　her　nails　to　slit　the　paper。　She　found　a　white　cardboard　box；　and　inside　it；　a　felt…covered　one。　This　she　opened　slowly。
　　　　It　was　a　necklace　of　fine　gold；　more　than　a　quarter…inch　wide；　designed　to　fit　closely　around　the　neck。　You　could　tell　the　price　by　the　workmanship　and　the　weight。　Cathy　Ryan　took　a　deep　breath。　Her　husband　held　his。　Figuring　out　women's　fashions　was　not　his　strongest　point。　He'd　gotten　advice　from　Sissy　Jackson；　and　a　very　patient　clerk　at　the　jewelry　store。　Do　you　like　it？　
　　　　〃I　better　not　swim　with　this　on。〃
　　　　〃But　you　won't　have　to　take　it　off　when　you　scrub；〃　Jack　said。　〃Here。〃　He　took　it　from　the　box　and　put　it　around　her　neck。　He　managed　to　clasp　it　one…handed　on　the　first　try。
　　　　〃You　practiced。〃　One　hand　traced　over　the　necklace　while　her　eyes　looked　deeply　into　his。　〃You　practiced；　just　so　you　could　put　it　on　me　yourself；　didn't　you？〃
　　　　〃For　a　week　at　the　office。〃　Jack　nodded。　〃Wrapping　it　was　a　bitch；　too。〃
　　　　〃It's　wonderful。　Oh；　Jack！〃　Both　her　arms　darted　around　his　neck；　and　he　kissed　the　base　of　hers。
　　　　〃Thanks；　babe。　Thanks　for　being　my　wife。　Thanks　for　having　my　kids。　Thanks　for　letting　me　love　you。〃
　　　　Cathy　blinked　away　a　tear　or　two。　They　gave　her　blue　eyes　a　gleam　that　made　him　happier　than　any　man　on　earth。　Let　me　count　the　ways　。　。　。　
　　　　〃Just　something　I　saw；〃　he　explained　casually；　lying。　It　was　something　he'd　seen　after　looking　for　nine　hours；　through　seven　stores　in　three　shopping　malls。　〃And　it　just　said　to　me；　'I　was　made　for　her。'　〃　
　　　　〃Jack；　I　didn't　get　you　anything　like　〃
　　　　〃Shut　up。　Every　morning　I　wake　up；　and　I　see　you　next　to　me；　I　get　the　best　present　there　is。〃
　　　　〃You　are　a　sentimental　jerk　right　out　of　some　book　　but　I　don't　mind。〃　
　　　　〃You　do　like　it？〃　he　asked　carefully。
　　　　〃You　dummy　　I　love　it！〃　They　kissed　again。　Jack　had　lost　his　parents　years　before。　His　sister　lived　in　Seattle；　and　most　of　the　rest　of　his　relations　were　in　Chicago。　Everything　he　loved　was　in　this　house：　a　wife；　a　child　　and　a　third　of　another。　He'd　made　his　wife　smile　on　Christmas；　and　now　this　year　went　into　the　ledger　book　as　a　success。

　　　　About　the　time　Ryan　started　assembling　the　doll　house；　four　identical　blue　vans　left　the　Brixton　Prison　at　five…minute　intervals。　For　each；　the　first　thirty　minutes　involved　driving　through　the　side　streets　of　suburban　London。　In　each；　a　pair　of　police　officers　sat　looking　out　the　small　windows　in　the　rear　doors；　watching　to　see　if　there　might　be　a　car　trailing　the　truck　on　its　random　path　through　the　city。
　　　　They'd　picked　a　good　day　for　it。　It　was　a　fairly　typical　morning　for　the　English　winter。　The　vans　drove　through　patches　of　fog　and　cold　rain。　There　was　a　moderate　storm　blowing　in　from　the　Channel；　and　best　of　all；　it　was　dark。　The　island's　northern　latitude　guaranteed　that　the　sun　would　not　be　up　for　some　hours　yet；　and　the　dark　blue　vans　were　invisible　in　the　early　morning。
　　　　Security　was　so　strict　that　Sergeant　Bob　Highland　of　C…13　didn't　even　know　that　he　was　in　the　third　van　to　leave　the　jail。　He　did　know　that　he　was　sitting　only　a　few　feet　from　Sean　Miller；　and　that　their　destination　was　the　small　port　of　Lymington。　They　had　a　choice　of　three　ports　to　take　them　to　the　Isle　of　Wight；　and　three　different　modes　of　transport：　ordinary　ferry；　hovercraft；　and　hydrofoil。　They　might　also　have　chosen　a　Royal　Navy　helicopter　out　of　Gosport；　but　Highland　needed　only　a　quick　look　at　the　starless　sky　to　rule　that　one　out。　Not　a　good　idea；　he　thought　to　himself。　Besides；　security　is　airtight。　Not　more　than　thirty　people　knew　that　Miller　was　being　moved　this　morning。　Miller　himself　hadn't　known　until　three　hours　before；　and　he　still　didn't　know　what　prison　he　was　heading　to。　He'd　only　learn　when　he　got　to　the　island。
　　　　Embarrassments　to　the　British　prison　system　had　accumulated　over　the　years。　The　old；　forbidding　structures　that　inhabited　such　desolate　places　as　Dartmoor　in　Cornwall　had　turned　out　to　be　amazingly　easy　to　escape　from；　and　as　a　result　two　new　maximum…security　facilities；　Albany　and　Parkhurst；　had　been　built　on　the　Isle　of　Wight。　There　were　many　advantages　to　this。　An　island　by　definition　was　easier　to　secure；　and　this　one　had　only　four　regular　entry　points。