rr.thebrentfordtriangle-第16部分

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　the　quality　of　a　haunted　place。　There　was　a　harsh；　collars…up　chill　in　the　air　and　the　low　moon　now　cast　long　and　sinister　shadows　across　a　deathly…tinted　ground。　The　prospect　of　digging　up　a　potential　minefield　held　little　if　any　appeal　whatsoever。
　'Best　make　a　fresh　start　in　the　morning；'　said　Pooley；　rubbing　his　hands　briskly　together。　Tm　for　my　cosy　nest；　bed　ways　is　best　ways　and　all　that。'
　Omally　grasped　the　retreating　Jim　firmly　by　his　threadbare　collar。　'Not　so　fast；　Pooley；'　said　he；　'you　are　not　going　to　bottle　out　on　this　now。'　Jim　thought　to　detect　a　lack　of　conviction　in　the　Irishman's　tone。　'I　suggest　a　promise。'
　Pooley　hovered　on　his　toes。　'You　mean　do　it　in　shifts；　you　dig　tonight；　I　tomorrow；　I　applaud　that。'
　'Hardly。'　Omally　tightened　his　grip。　'I　mean　rather　that　we　go　round　and　set　markers　beside　the　symbols　so　we　will　be　able　to　locate　them。　Then　we　both　dig　tomorrow。'
　Pooley　thought　this　not　only　sound　but　also　far　less　strenuous。　'That　is　using　the　old　grey　matter；'　he　told　John。　'Now；　if　you　will　release　your　grip；　which　is　causing　no　little　interference　to　my　general　welfare　about　the　throat　regions；　I　shall　do　my　best　to　assist　you。'
　Now　began　the　inevitable　discussion　upon　the　best　method　of　acplishing　the　task　in　hand。　Pooley　suggested　the　hardy　sprout　as　a　piece　of　vegetable　matter　suitable　for　the　job。　In　the　interests　of　good　taste　Omally　put　up　the　spud　as　the　ideal　substitute。　The　war　then　waged　between　bean　poles　loaded　with　tinfoil；　shredded　newspaper　laid　out　in　the　form　of　pentagrams　and　a　whole　host　of　objects　ranging　from　the　noble　and　worthy　to　the　positively　obscene。　Finally；　after　Pooley　had　made　a　suggestion　so　ludicrous　as　to　bring　the　naturally　short…tempered　Irishman　within　a　hairbreadth　of　killing　him　there　and　then；　Omally　put　his　foot　down　once　and　for　all。
　'Enough；　enough；'　he　shouted。　'We　will　not　mark　them　at　all；　we　shall　merely　pace　around　the　allotment　and　make　notes　as　to　each　location　as　we　e　upon　it。　That　is　that。'
　If　Pooley　had　worn　a　hat　he　would　have　taken　it　off　to　his　panion　and　cast　it　into　the　air。　'Brilliant；'　he　said；　shaking　his　head　in　admiration。　'How　do　you　do　it；　John？'
　'It's　a　gift；　I　believe。'
　Pooley　pulled　out　the　Now　Official　Handbook　of　Allotment　Golf　and　handed　it　to　Omally。　'Let　us　go；'　he　said。　The　field　is　yours。'
　Now；　it　is　to　be　remembered　that　both　men　had　imbibed　considerable　quantities　of　potato　gin；　a　drink　not　noted　for　its　sobering　qualities；　and　that　the　light　was　extremely　poor。　Had　it　not　been　for　these　two　facts　it　is　just　possible　that　the　job　might　have　been　acplished　with　some　degree　of　success。　As　it　was；　hi　no　time　at　all；　the　two　men　found　themselves　crossing　and　recrossing　their　tracks　and　scrawling　illegible　diagrams　and　unreadable　locative　descriptions　all　over　the　exercise　book。
　'We　have　done　this　one　already；'　said　Pooley；　lurching　to　one　side　of　a　glowing　symbol。　Tm　sure　we've　done　this　one。'
　Omally　shook　his　head；　'No；　no；'　he　said；　'it　is　as　clear　as　clear；　look；　you　can　see　the　way　we　came。'　He　tapped　at　the　notebook　and　as　he　did　so　the　moon　crept　away　behind　a　large　cloud；　leaving　them　in　total　darkness。　'Bugger；'　said　John；　'I　cannot　seem　to　find　my　way。'
　'Best　call　it　off　then；'　said　Pooley；　'bad　light　stops　play；　nothing　more　to　be　done；　bed　is　calling。'
　'My　hearing　is　acute；'　Omally　warned。　'One　move　and　I　strike　you　down。'
　'But；　John。'
　'But　nothing。'
　The　two　men　stood　a　moment　awaiting　the　return　of　the　moon。　'What　is　that？'　Omally　asked；　quite　without　warning。
　'What　is　what？'　Pooley　replied　sulkily。
　Omally　gestured　invisibly　to　a　point　not　far　distant；　where　something　definitely　untoward　was　occurring。　'That　there。'
　Pooley　peered　about　in　the　uncertain　light　and　it　did　not　take　him　long　to　see　it。　'Right；'　said　Jim；　'that　is　definitely　me　finished。　The　Pooleys　know　when　their　time　is　up。'
　'Keep　your　gaping　gob　shut；'　whispered　Omally　hoarsely；　as　he　leapt　forward　and　dragged　the　quitter　to　the　dust。
　ing　from　the　direction　of　Soap　Distant's　abandoned　hut　a　soft　red　light　was　growing。　The　door　of　the　heavily　bolted　shed　was　slowly　opening；　showing　a　ghostly　red　glow。
　'Would　you　look　at　that？'　gasped　Dublin's　finest。
　'I　should　prefer　not；'　said　Pooley；　climbing　to　his　feet　and　preparing　for　the　off。
　Omally　clutched　at　his　panion；　catching　him　by　a　ragged　trouser　cuff。　'Look；'　said　he；　'now　that　is　a　thing。'
　From　all　points　of　the　allotment　shadowy　forms　were　moving；　figures　indistinct　and　fuzzy　about　the　edges；　striding　like　automata；　ever　in　the　direction　of　the　weird　red　light。　'Ye　gods；'　whispered　Jim　as　one　passed　near　enough　to　expose　his　angular　profile；　'the　council　spies；　dozens　of　them。'
　Omally　dragged　Pooley　once　more　towards　terra。　'1　would　counsel　silence；'　he　whispered；　'and　the　keeping　of　the　now　legendary　low　profile。'
　'I　feel　sick；'　moaned　Jim。
　The　gaunt　figures　strode　ever　onwards。　Silently　they　moved　amongst　the　many　scattered　obstructions　upon　the　allotment　soil。　Never　a　one　turned　his　head　from　his　goal　and　each　walked　with　a　mechanical　precision。
　Pooley　and　Omally　watched　their　progress　with　wide　eyes　and　slack　jaws。　'We　should　follow　them；'　said　John；　'see　what　they're　up　to。'
　'With　the　corner　up　we　should。'
　'Poltroon。　e　on　man；　let's　sort　the　thing　out。'
　Pooley　sloped　his　drunken　shoulders。　'John；'　said　he；　'are　you　honestly　suggesting　that　any　good　whatsoever　will　e　from　following　this　gang　of　weirdos？　I　feel　rather　that　we　would　be　walking　straight　into　a　trap。　This　is　only　my　opinion　of　course；　and　it　is　greatly　influenced　by　the　state　of　blind　panic　I　find　myself　in　at　present。　There　is　something　altogether　wrong　about　every　bit　of　this。　Let　us　leave　the　allotment　now；　depart　for　ever；　never　to　return。　What　do　you　say？'
　Omally　weighed　up　the　situation。　Things　did　seem　a　little　iffy。　They　were　greatly　outnumbered　and　there　was　definitely　something　unnatural　about　the　striding　men。　Perhaps　it　would　be　wiser　to　run　now　and　ask　questions　later。　But　there　were　a　lot　of　questions　that　needed　asking　and　now　might　be　the　best　time　to　ask　them；　emboldened　as　they　both　were；　or　he　at　least；　by　the　surfeit　of　alcohol　pumping　about　the　old　arteries。　'e　on；　Jim；'　he　said；　encouragingly。　'One　quick　look　at　what　they're　up　to；　what　harm　can　it　do？　After　the　day　we've　had　nothing　else　can　happen　to　us；　can　it？'
　Pooley　thought　that　it　possibly　could；　and　as　it　turned　out　Pooley　was　absolutely　correct。
　
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　Ahead　the　red　light　glowed　evilly　and　the　spectral　figures　moved　into　its　aura　to　bee　cardboard　silhouettes。　Pooley　and　Omally　lurched　along　to　the　rear　of　the　strange　brigade　as　silently　as　their　inebriate　blunderings　would　allow。　None　of　the　queer　horde　turned　a　head；　although　the　sounds　of　their　pursuers；　as　they　stumbled　amongst　corrugated　plot　dividers　and　galvanized　watering　cans；　rang　loudly　across　the　silent　allotments。　As　the　stark　figures　neared　the　light　they　fell　into　line　and　strode　through　the　doorway　of　Soap　Distant's　hut　like　so　many　clockwork　soldiers。
　When　the　last　of　them　had　entered；　the　light　grew　to　a　blinding　intensity　then　dimmed　away　to　nothingness。　'There；'　said　Pooley；　faltering　in　his　footsteps；　'a　trick　of　the　light；　nothing　more；　probably　landing　lights　on　a　Jumbo　or　some　such。　Off　to　our　beds　now　then；　eh？'
　Omally　prodded　him　in　the　loins　with　the　rake　he　had　wisely　appropriated　in　the　interests　of　self…preservation。　'Onward；　Pooley；'　he　ordered。　'We　will　get　to　the　bottom　of　this。'
　His　words；　as　it　happened；　could　not　have　been　more　poorly　chosen；　but　Omally；　of　course；　was　not　to　know　that　at　this　time。　The　two　men　neared　Soap's　hut　and　peered　through　the　open　doorway。　There　was　nothing　to　be　seen　but　sheer；　unutterable；　unfathomable　darkness。
　'Lighter；'　Omally　manded。　Pooley　brought　out　his　aged　Zippo　and　sucked　at　the　wick。　Omally　snatched　at　the　well…worn　smoker's　friend　and　as　the　flame　bravely　illuminated　the　hut's　interior　the　two　men　gave　forth　with　twin　whistles　of　dismay。
　The　shed　was　empty：　four　corrugated　walls；　a　ceiling　of　slatted　asbestos　and　a　concrete　floor。
　John　Omally　groaned。　Pooley　shook　his　head　in　wonder。　'These　council　lads　certainly　leave　the　great　Houdini　with　egg　on　his　chin/　he　said　respectfully。　'How　do　you　suppose　they　do　it？'
　'I　utterly　refuse　to　believe　this；'　said　Omally；　holding　the　lighter　aloft　and　stepping　boldly　through　the　doorway。　'There　is　no　conceivable　way　they　could　all　have。。。　'
　He　never　actually　finished　the　sentence。　Pooley's　lighter　was　suddenly　extinguished　and　Omally's　words　were　swallowed　up　as　if　sucked　into　some　great　and　terrible　vacuum。
　'John？'　Pooley　found　himself　alone　in　the　darkness。　'John；　this　is　not　funny。'　His　voice　echoed　hollowly　in　the　sinister　hut。
　'Oh　dear　me；'　said　Jim　Pooley。
　The　moon　slowly　withdrew　itself　from　its　cloudy　lair　and　shone　a　broad　beam　of　light　through　the　open　doorway。　The　tiny　hut　was　empty。　John　Omally　had　simply　ceased　to　exist。　Jim　snatched　up　Omally's　discarded　rake；　prodding　ahead　of　him　as　he　gingerly　moved　forward。　The　moon　was　still　shining　brightly　and　now；　along　the　nearby　rooftops；　the　thin　red　line　of　dawn　was　spreading。
　'Oh！'　The　tip　of