p&c.brimstone-第10部分

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　〃She's　full　of　crap；　as　usual；〃　said　Prince；　his　face　flushing。　Turning　on　his　heels；　he　strode　away。　
　Lady　Milbanke　issued　another　tinkle　of　laughter。　〃And　Jonathan　here　had　been　skewered　by　Grove　more　than　once　in　his　time。　Right；　Jonathan？〃　
　The　gray…haired　man　smiled　ironically。　〃I　joined　a　rather　large　club。〃　
　〃He　called　you　the　inflatable　love　doll　of　art　critics；　didn't　he？〃　
　The　man　didn't　bat　an　eye。　〃Grove　did　have　a　turn　of　phrase。　But　I　thought　we　agreed　this　was　all　behind　us；　Evelyn。　That　was　more　than　five　years　ago。〃　
　〃And　then　there's　the　count。　A　prime　suspect。　Look　at　him！　Obviously　a　man　of　dark　secrets。　He's　Italian；　and　you　knowthem　。〃　
　The　count　smiled。　〃We　Italians　are　devious　creatures。〃　
　D'Agosta　looked　at　the　count　with　curiosity。　He　was　struck　by　the　man's　eyes；　which　were　a　dark　gray　color；　with　the　unique　clearness　of　deep　water。　The　man　had　long　gray　hair；　swept　back；　and　skin　as　pink　as　a　baby's；　despite　his　age；　which　had　to　approach　sixty。　
　〃And　then　there'sme　；〃　Lady　Milbanke　continued。　〃You　might　think　I　had　the　best　motive　of　all　to　murder　him。　We　were　once　lovers。Cherchez　la　dame。　〃　
　D'Agosta　shuddered　and　wondered　if　such　a　thing　was　physically　possible。　
　The　critic；　Frederick；　seemed　to　be　equally　put　off　by　this　image；　because　he　began　backing　off。　〃Excuse　me；　there's　someone　I　need　to　speak　with。〃　
　Lady　Milbanke　smiled。　〃About　your　new　appointment；　I　suppose？〃　
　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　yes。　Mr。　Pendergast；　a　pleasure　to　have　met　you。〃　
　There　was　a　brief　pause　in　the　conversation。　D'Agosta　found　that　the　count's　gray　eyes　had　settled　on　Pendergast　and　that　a　small　smile　was　playing　about　his　lips。　〃Pray　tell；　Mr。　Pendergast；〃　said　the　count。　〃Whatis　your　official　interest　in　this　case？〃　
　Pendergast　didn't　react。　By　way　of　response；　he　slipped　a　hand　into　his　jacket　and　removed　his　wallet；　opening　it　slowly　and　reverently；　as　if　it　was　a　case　of　jewels。　The　gold　badge　flashed　in　the　lights　of　the　great　hall。　
　〃Ecce　signum！〃the　count　cried　delightedly。　
　The　old　lady　took　a　step　back。　〃You？　Police？〃　
　〃Special　Agent　Pendergast；　Federal　Bureau　of　Investigation。〃　
　Lady　Milbanke　rounded　on　the　count。　〃You　knew　and　didn'ttell　me？　And　here　I've　made　all　of　us　into　suspects！〃　Her　voice　had　lost　its　undertone　of　amusement。　
　The　count　smiled。　〃I　knew　the　minute　he　approached　that　he　was　of　the　constabulary。〃　
　〃He　doesn't　look　like　an　FBI　agent　tome　。〃　
　The　count　turned　to　Pendergast。　〃I　hope　Evelyn's　information　will　be　useful　to　you；　sir？〃　
　〃Very；〃　said　Pendergast。　〃I　have　heard　much　about　you；　Count　Fosco。〃　
　The　count　smiled。　
　〃I　believe　you　and　Grove　have　been　friends　a　long　time？〃　
　〃We　shared　a　love　of　music　and　art；　and　that　highest　marriage　of　the　two：　opera。　Are　you　by　chance　a　lover　of　opera？〃　
　〃I　am　not。〃　
　〃No？〃　The　count　arched　his　eyebrows。　〃And　why　not？〃　
　〃Opera　has　always　struck　me　as　vulgar　and　infantile。　I　prefer　the　symphonic　form：　pure　music；　without　such　props　as　sets；　costumes；　melodrama；　sex；　and　violence。〃　
　It　seemed　to　D'Agosta　the　count　had　gone　stock…still。　But　then　he　realized　Fosco　was　laughing　silently；　visible　only　from　an　internal　convulsion。　The　laugh　went　on　for　quite　a　long　time。　Then　he　wiped　the　corners　of　his　eyes　with　a　handkerchief　and　patted　his　plump　hands　together　lightly；　in　appreciation。　〃Well；　well。　I　see　you　are　a　gentleman　with　firm　opinions。〃　He　paused；　leaned　toward　Pendergast；　and　began　to　sing　in　a　low　tone；　his　deep　bass　voice　barely　keeping　above　the　noise　of　the　room。　
　　　
　Braveggia；　urla！　T'affretta　a　palesarmi　il　fondo　dell'alma　ria！
　　　
　He　paused；　leaned　back；　beaming　around。　〃Tosca；　one　of　my　favorites。〃　
　D'Agosta　saw　Pendergast's　lips　tighten　a　little。　〃Shout；　braggart；〃　he　translated。　〃What　a　rush　you're　in　to　show　me　the　last　dregs　of　your　vile　soul！〃　
　The　group　became　still　at　what　appeared　to　be　an　insult　directed　at　the　count。　But　the　count　only　broke　into　a　smile　himself。　〃Bravo。　You　speak　Italian。〃　
　〃Ci　provo；〃said　Pendergast。　
　〃My　dear　fellow；　if　you　can　translate　Puccini　that　well；　I　should　say　you　do　much　better　than　merely　trying。　So　you　dislike　opera。　I　can　only　hope　you　are　less　of　a　philistine　when　it　es　to　art。　Have　you　had　a　chance　to　admire　that　Ghirlandaio　over　there？　Sublime。〃　
　〃Getting　to　the　case；〃　said　Pendergast；　〃I　wonder；　Count；　if　you　could　answer　a　few　questions？〃　
　The　count　nodded。　
　〃What　was　Grove's　mood　on　the　night　of　his　death？　Was　he　upset？　Frightened？〃　
　〃Yes；　he　was。　But　e；　shall　we　take　a　closer　look？〃　The　count　moved　toward　the　painting。　The　others　followed。　
　〃Count　Fosco；　you　were　one　of　the　last　people　to　see　Jeremy　Grove　alive。　I　would　appreciate　your　help。〃　
　The　count　patted　his　hands　together　again。　〃Forgive　me　if　I　seem　flippant。　I　want　to　help。　As　it　happens；　your　line　of　work　has　always　fascinated　me。　I'm　an　ardent　reader　of　English　mysteries；　they　are　perhaps　the　only　thing　the　English　are　good　for。　But　I　must　confess　myself　unused　to　being　thesubject　of　detection。　Not　an　altogether　agreeable　feeling。〃　
　〃It　is　never　agreeable。　What　makes　you　think　Grove　was　upset　that　night？〃　
　〃Over　the　course　of　the　evening；　he　couldn't　sit　still　for　more　than　a　few　minutes。　He　hardly　drank　at　all；　a　striking　departure　from　his　usual　habits。　At　times；　he　spoke　loudly；　almost　giddily。　Other　times　he　wept。〃　
　〃Do　you　know　why　he　was　upset？〃　
　〃Yes。　He　was　in　fear　of　the　devil。〃　
　Lady　Milbanke　clapped　her　hands　in　an　excess　of　excitement。　
　Pendergast　peered　at　Fosco　intently。　〃And　what　makes　you　think　that？〃　
　〃As　I　was　leaving；　he　asked　me　a　most　peculiar　question。　Knowing　I　was　Catholic；　he　begged　to　borrow　my　cross。〃　
　〃And？〃　
　〃I　loaned　it　to　him。　And　I　must　admit　to　being　a　trifle　alarmed　about　its　safety　since　reading　the　morning　papers。　How　may　I　retrieve　it？〃　
　〃You　can't。〃　
　〃And　why　not？〃　
　〃It's　been　entered　into　evidence。〃　
　〃Ah！〃　the　count　said；　relieved。　〃But　in　time　I　may　retrieve　it；　yes？〃　
　〃I　don't　see　why　you'd　want　to；　save　perhaps　the　jewels　it　held。〃　
　〃And　why　is　that？〃　
　〃It's　been　burned　and　melted　beyond　all　recognition。〃　
　〃No！〃　the　count　cried。　〃A　priceless　family　relic；　passed　down　for　a　dozen　generations。　And　it　was　a　present　to　me　from　my　nonno；　on　my　confirmation！〃　He　mastered　himself　quickly。　〃Fate　is　a　capricious　thing；　Mr。　Pendergast。　Not　only　did　Grove　die　a　day　too　soon　to　do　me　an　important　service；　but　he　took　my　prized　heirloom　as　partner　to　his　destruction。　So　goes　life。〃　He　dusted　his　hands。　〃And　now　an　exchange　of　information；　perhaps？　I　have　satisfied　your　curiosity；　you　satisfy　mine。〃　
　〃I　regret　I　can't　talk　about　the　case。〃　
　〃My　dear　sir；　I　don't　speak　of　the　case。　I　speak　of　this　painting！　I　would　value　your　opinion。〃　
　Pendergast　turned　to　the　painting　and　said；　in　an　offhand　way；　〃I　detect　the　influence　of　the　Portinari　Triptych　in　those　peasants'　faces。〃　
　Count　Fosco　smiled。　〃What　genius！　What　foresight！〃　
　Pendergast　inclined　his　head　slightly。　
　〃I　speak　not　of　you；　my　friend；　but　of　the　artist。　You　see；　that　must　have　been　quite　a　feat；　since　Ghirlandaio　painted　this　little　panelthree　yearsbefore　the　Portinari　Triptych　arrived　in　Florence　from　Flanders。〃　He　beamed；　looking　around　at　his　audience。　
　Pendergast　coolly　returned　the　gaze。　〃Ghirlandaio　saw　the　studies　for　the　painting　which　were　sent　to　the　Portinari　family　five　years　before　the　altarpiece　arrived。　I'm　surprised；　Count；　to　find　you　not　in　possession　of　that　fact。〃　
　The　count　lost　his　smile　for　only　a　moment。　Then　he　clapped　with　genuine　admiration。　〃Well　done；　well　done！　It　seems　you　have　bested　me　on　my　home　turf。　I　really　must　get　to　know　you　better；　Mr。　Pendergast：　for　a　member　of　the　carabinieri；　you　are　exceptionally　cultivated。〃　
　　　
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　D'Agosta　listened　to　the　distant　ringing　from　the　earpiece；　sofaint　the　other　phone　could　have　been　ringing　on　the　moon。　If　only　his　son；　Vincent；　would　answer。　He　really　didn't　want　to　talk　to　his　wife。　
　There　was　a　click　and　that　familiar　voice　came　on。　〃Yes？〃　She　never　saidhello　；　she　always　saidyes　；　as　if　his　call　was　already　an　imposition。　
　〃It's　me。〃　
　〃Yes？〃　she　repeated。　
　Jesus　Christ。　〃Me；　Vinnie。〃　
　〃I　know　who　it　is。〃　
　〃I'd　like　to　talk　to　my　son；　please。〃　
　There　was　a　pause。　〃You　can't。〃　
　D'Agosta　felt　a　flare　of　anger。　〃Why　not？〃　
　〃Here　in　Canada　we　have　something　calledschool　。〃　
　D'Agosta　felt　stupefied。　Of　course。　It　was　Friday；　close　to　noon。　〃I　forgot。〃　
　〃I　know　you　forgot。　Just　like　you　forgot　to　call　on　his　birthday。〃　
　〃You　left　the　phone　off　the　hook。〃　
　〃The　dog　must've　knocked　it　off　the　hook。　But　you　could　have　sent　a　card；　a　present。〃　
　〃Idid　send　a　card　and　a　present。〃　
　〃It　arrived　the　day　after。〃　
　〃I　sent　it　ten　days　before　his　birthday；　for　chrissakes。　You　can't　blame　me　for　slow　mail。〃　This　was　insane。　Once　again　he　was　letting　himself　get　dragged　into　a　senseless　argument。　Why　did　they　feel　this　desperate　need　to　fight？　The　best　thing　to　do　was　just　not　respond。　
　〃Look；　Lydia；　I'll　call　later　tonight；　okay？〃　
　〃Vincent's　going　out　with　friends。〃　
　〃I'll　call　tomorrow　morning。〃　
　〃You'll　probably　miss　hi