alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第30部分

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libi　and　want　to　be　five　miles　away　when　the　fire　starts；　it's　the　perfect　answer。〃
　
　〃There　way　a　funny　smell…〃　she　began　slowly。
　
　〃You　bet　there　was。　Can　you　remember　who　went　there？〃
　
　〃It's　no　good。〃　She　shook　her　head。　〃I　was　in　the　galley　most　of　the　time；　getting　the　meal　ready。〃
　
　〃Who　were　in　the　front　two　seats…those　nearest　the　galley？〃
　
　〃Miss　LeGarde　and　Mr　Corazzini。　And　I'm　afraid　that's　not　much　help。　We　know　Marie　LeGarde　can't　have　had　anything　to　do　with　it。　And　Mr　Corazzini　is　the　one　person　I'm　sure　didn't　leave　his　seat　before　dinner。　He　had　a　gin　soon　after　take…off；　then　switched　off　his　reading　light；　draped　a　newspaper　over　his　head　and　went　to　sleep。〃
　
　〃Are　you　sure？〃
　
　〃Quite　sure。　I　always　peek　through　the　cabin　door　from　time　to　time；　and　he　was　always　there。〃
　
　〃That　seems　to　cut　him　out；〃　I　said　thoughtfully。　〃And　reduce　the　number　of　suspects…though；　I　suppose；　he　could　still　have　got　an　acplice　to　plant　the　acid　tube。〃　Then；　suddenly；　I　had　what　was；　for　me；　an　inspiration。　〃Tell　me；　Miss　Ross；　did　anyone　ask　you　earlier　in　the　evening　when　dinner　would　be？〃
　
　She　looked　at　me　for　a　long　moment　before　answering；　and　even　in　the　fading　light　of　the　aurora　I　could　see　the　understanding　ing　into　her　eyes。
　
　〃Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　did；　I'm　sure。〃
　
　〃She　would。　Anyone　else。〃
　
　〃Yes。　I　remember　now。〃　Her　voice　was　suddenly　very　quiet。　〃Colonel　Harrison…but　he　doesn't　count　any　more…and　Mr　Zagero。〃
　
　〃Zagero？〃　In　my　excitement　I　bent　forward　until　my　face　was　almost　touching　hers。　〃Are　you　sure？〃
　
　〃I'm　sure。　I　remember　when　he　asked　me；　I　said；　〃Are　you　feeling　peckish；　sir？〃　and　he　grinned　and　said；　〃My　dear　air　hostess；　I　always　feel　peckish。〃
　
　〃Well；　well。　This　is　most　interesting。〃
　
　〃Do　you　think　Mr　Zagero…〃
　
　〃I'm　at　the　stage　where　I'm　afraid　to　think　anything。　I've　been　wrong　too　often。　But　it's　a　straw　in　the　wind　all　right…a　straw　about　the　size　of　a　haystack。。　。　。　Was　he　anywhere　near　you　when　the　radio　fell？　Behind　you；　for　instance；　when　you　rose　and　brushed　against　the　radio　table？〃
　
　〃No；　he　was　by　the　hatch；　I'm　sure　of　that。　Could　he…〃
　
　〃He　couldn't。　Joss　and　I　worked　it　out。　Somebody　had　pushed　one　of　the　table　hinges　right　home　and　the　other　until　it　was　at　the　critical　point　of　balance。　Then　as　you　stood　up　he　pushed　the　other　in。　From　a　distance。　There　was　a　long…handled　brush　lying　there　…but　it　had　no　significance　for　us　at　the　time。。　。　。　When　you　heard　the　crash　you　whirled　round；　didn't　you？〃　She　nodded　without　speaking。
　
　〃And　what　did　you　see？〃
　
　〃Mr　Corazzini…〃
　
　〃We　know　he　dived　for　it；〃　I　said　impatiently。　〃But　in　the　background；　against　the　wall？〃
　
　〃There　was　someone。〃　Her　voice　was　barely　more　than　a　whisper。　〃But　no…no；　it　couldn't　have　been。　He'd　been　sitting　dozing　on　the　floor；　and　he　got　the　fright　of　his　life　when…〃
　
　〃For　heaven's　sake！〃　I　cut　in　harshly。　〃Who　was　it？〃
　
　〃Solly　Levin。〃
　
　The　brief　twilight　of　noon　came　and　went；　the　cold　steadily　deepened　and　by　late　in　the　evening　it　seemed　that　we　had　been　on　board　that　lurching；　roaring　tractor　all　our　lives。
　
　Twice　only　we　stopped　in　the　course　of　that　interminable　day；　for　refuelling　at　4　p。m。　and　8　p。m。　I　chose　these　times　because　I　had　arranged　with　Joss　that　I　would　try　to　contact　him　every　fourth　hour。　But　though　we　set　up　the　apparatus　outside　while　Jackstraw　was　refuelling　and　Corazzini　sat　astride　the　bicycle　seat　and　cranked　the　generator　handle　while　I　tapped　out　our　call　sign　for　almost　ten　unbroken　minutes；　no　shadow　of　an　answer　came　through。　I　had　expected　none。　Even　if　by　some　miracle　Joss　had　managed　to　fix　the　set；　the　ionosphere　turbulence　that　had　caused　the　aurora　would　have　almost　certainly　killed　any　chance　of　making　contact。　But　I'd　promised　Joss；　and　I　had　to　keep　faith。
　
　By　the　time　I　made　the　second　try；　everyone；　even　Jackstraw　and　myself；　was　shaking　and　shivering　in　the　bitter　cold。
　
　Normally；　we　wouldn't　have　felt　it　much…in　very　cold　weather　we　wore　two　plete　sets　of　furs；　the　inner　one　with　the　fur　inside；　the　outer　with　the　fur　outside。　But　we'd　given　our　extra　pairs　away　to　Corazzini　and　Zagero…furs　were　essential　in　that　ice…box　of　a　tractor　cabin…and　suffered　just　as　much　as　the　others。
　
　Occasionally；　someone　would　jump　down　from　the　tractor　and　run　alongside　to　try　to　get　warm；　but　so　exhausted　were　most　from　sleeplessness；　hunger；　cold　and　eternally　bracing　themselves　against　the　lurching　of　the　tractor；　that　they　were　staggering　from　exhaustion　within　minutes　and　had　to　e　aboard　again。　And　when　they　did　e　aboard；　the　sweat　from　their　exertions　in　such　heavy　clothes　turned　ice…cold　on　their　bodies；　putting　them　in　worse　case　than　ever；　until　finally　I　had　to　stop　it。
　
　It　grieved　me　to　do　what　had　to　be　done；　what　I　saw　must　be　done；　but　there　was　no　help　for　it。　The　weariness；　the　cold　and　the　sleeplessness　could　be　borne　no　longer。　When　I　finally　gave　the　order　to　stop　it　was　ten　minutes　after　midnight；　and　we　had　been　driving　continuously；　except　for　brief　fuel　and　radio　halts；　for　twenty…seven　hours。
　
　
　CHAPTER　EIGHT…Wednesday　4　A。M。…8　P。M。
　
　Despite　our　exhaustion；　despite　our　almost　overwhelming　need　for　sleep；　I　don't　think　anyone　slept　that　night；　even　for　a　moment；　for　to　have　slept　would　have　been　to　freeze　to　death。
　
　I　had　never　known　such　cold。　Even　with　twelve　of　us　jam…packed　inside　a　tiny　wooden　box　built　to　hold　five　sleeping　people　at　the　most；　even　with　the　oil　fire　roaring　up　the　chimney　all　night　long　and　wanned　by　a　couple　of　cups　of　piping　hot　coffee　apiece；　we　all　of　us　suffered　agonies　during　these　dark　hours。　The　chattering　of　teeth；　the　St　Vitus'　dance　of　tremor…ridden　limbs　knocking　against　the　thin　uninsulated　wooden　walls；　the　constant　rubbing　as　someone　sought　to　restore　life　to　a　frozen　face　or　arm　or　foot。　These　were　the　sounds　that　never　ceased。　How　the　elderly　Marie　LeGarde　or　the　sick　Mahler　survived　that　night　was　indeed　a　matter　for　wonder。
　
　But　survive　they　did；　for　when　I　looked　at　my　luminous　watch；　saw　that　it　was　almost　four　o'clock　and　decided　that　enough　was　enough；　both　of　them　were　wide　awake　when　I　switched　on　the　little　overhead　light。　Weak　enough　normally；　that　light　was　now　no　more　than　a　feeble　yellow　glow…　an　ominous　sign；　it　meant　that　even　the　tractor　batteries　were　beginning　to　freeze　up…but　enough　to　see　the　crowded　circle　of　faces；　white　and　blue　and　yellowing　with　frostbite；　the　smoke…like　exhalations　that　clouded　in　the　air　before　them　with　every　breath　they　took；　the　film　of　slick　ice　that　already　covered　the　walls　and　all　of　the　roof　except　for　a　few　inches　round　the　stove　pipe　exit。　As　a　spectacle　of　suffering；　of　sheer　unrelieved　misery；　I　don't　think　I　have　ever　seen　its　equal。
　
　〃Insomnia；　eh；　Doc？〃　It　was　Corazzini　speaking；　his　teeth　chattering　between　the　words。　〃Or　just　forgotten　to　plug　in　your　electric　blanket？〃
　
　〃Just　an　early　riser；　Mr　Corazzini。〃　I　glanced　round　the　haggard　and　pain…filled　faces。　〃Anybody　here　slept　at　all？〃
　
　I　was　answered　by　mute　headshakes　from　everybody。
　
　〃Anybody　likely　to　sleep？〃
　
　Again　the　headshakes。
　
　〃That　settles　it。〃　I　struggled　to　my　feet。　〃It's　only　4　a。m。；　but　if　we're　going　to　freeze　to　death　we　might　as　well　freeze　on　the　move。　Not　only　that；　but　another　few　hours　in　this　temperature；　and　that　tractor　engine　will　never　start　again。　What　do　you　think；　Jackstraw？〃
　
　〃I'll　get　the　blow…torches；〃　he　said　by　way　of　answer；　and　pushed　his　way　out　through　the　canvas　screen。　Almost　at　once　I　heard　him　begin　to　cough　violently　in　the　deadly　cold　of　the　air　outside；　and；　in　the　intervals　between　the　coughing；　we　could　clearly　hear　the　dry　rustling　crackling　of　his　breath　as　the　moisture　condensed；　froze　and　drifted　away　in　the　all　but　imperceptible　breeze。
　
　Corazzini　and　I　followed；　choking　and　gasping　in　turn　as　that　glacial　cold　seared　through　throat　and　lungs；　adjusting　masks　and　goggles　until　not　a　millimetre　of　flesh　was　left　exposed。　Abreast　the　driving　cabin　I　drew　out　my　torch　and　glanced　at　the　alcohol　thermometer…ordinary　mercury　froze　solid　at…38°…then　looked　again　in　disbelief。　The　red　spirit　inside　the　glass　had　sunk　down　to　within　an　inch　of　the　bulb　and　stood　on　the　line　of　…68°…exactly　one　hundred　degrees　of　frost。　Still　well　below　Wegener's　…85°；　further　short　still　of　the　incredible　…125°　that　the　Russians　had　recorded　at　the　Vostok　in　Antarctica；　but　nevertheless　the　lowest；　by　almost　fifteen　degrees；　that　I　had　ever　experienced。　And　that　it　should　happen　now…now；　two　hundred　miles　from　the　nearest　human　habitation；　with　Jackstraw　and　myself　stuck　with　two　murderers；　a　possibly　dying　man；　seven　other　passengers　rapidly　weakening　from　exposure；　exhaustion　and　lack　of　food；　and　a　superannuated　tractor　that　was　due　to　pack　up　at　any　moment　at　all。
　
　Over　an　hour　later　I　had　cause　to　revise　the　last　part　of　that　estimate…it　seemed　that　the　tractor　had　already　packed　up。　I　had　had　my　first　intimation　of　trouble　to　e　when　I　had　switched　on　the　ignition　and　pressed　the　horn…the　faint　mournful　beep　could　hardly　have　been　heard　twenty　yards