p&c.brimstone-第20部分

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ad　always　craved。　But　he　had　other　things　as　well。　He　plained　of　never　being　alone：　of　eyes　in　the　walls　watching　him；　of　noises；　strange　noises　like　the　clicking　of　teeth。　Despite　having　everything　mortal　beings　can　possess；　he　grew　restless。　Eventually；　as　the　days　of　his　contract　grew　short；　he　took　to　reading　the　Bible；　loudly　proclaiming　his　repentance。　He　spent　his　last　evening　in　the　pany　of　his　drinking　panions；　weeping　bitterly；　bewailing　his　sins；　begging　heaven　to　slow　the　passage　of　hours。〃　
　〃'O　lente；　lente；　currite　noctis　equi；'〃Pendergast　intoned　quietly。　
　〃Dr。　Faustus；　Act　5；　scene　2；〃　Constance　said　immediately。　
　　　
　〃　The　stars　move　still；　time　runs；　the　clock　will　strike；　The　devil　will　e；　and　Faustus　must　be　damned。〃　
　　　
　A　small　smile　broke　across　Pendergast's　features。　
　〃According　to　legend；　terrible　screams　were　heard　issuing　from　his　rooms　after　midnight。　None　of　his　guests　dared　investigate。　In　the　morning；　they　found　his　bedchamber　turned　into　an　abattoir。　The　walls　were　painted　in　blood。　Somebody　found　a　lone　eyeball　in　a　corner　of　the　room。　The　crushed；　limp　remains　of　his　skull　clung　to　one　wall。　The　rest　of　his　body　was　found　in　the　alley　below；　thrown　over　a　pile　of　horse　manure。　They　said…〃　
　She　was　interrupted　by　a　knock　at　the　library　door。　
　〃That　would　be　Sergeant　D'Agosta；〃　Pendergast　said；　glancing　up　at　the　clock。　〃e　in；〃　he　called　in　a　louder　voice。　
　The　door　opened　slowly　and　Sergeant　Vincent　D'Agosta　stepped　into　the　library：　dirty；　clothes　torn；　scratched；　bleeding。　
　Pendergast　rose　abruptly　from　his　chair。　〃Vincent！〃　
　　　
　16　
　
　D'Agosta　slumped　in　a　chair；　feeling　dazed　and　in　shock。　Itseemed　one…half　of　his　body　was　numb；　and　the　half　that　wasn't　was　throbbing　in　pain。　The　old　mansion　gave　him　the　creeps；　so　damp；　cold；　and　dark。　Was　this　really　where　Pendergast　was　now　living？　Here　the　guy　had　a　beautiful　place　on　Central　Park　West；　but　chose　instead　to　live　in　deepest　Harlem；　in　a　spookhouse　of　a　museum　no　less；　all　stuffed　animals　and　skeletons　and　shelves　covered　with　weird　crap。　At　least　this　library　was　like　an　oasis：　soft　chairs；　a　roaring　fire。　Pendergast　had　a　guest；　it　seemed；　but　for　the　moment　D'Agosta　felt　too　scratched；　bruised；　and　wiped　out　to　care。　
　〃You　look　like　you　just　escaped　from　the　devil；〃　Pendergast　said。　
　〃I　did。〃　
　〃Sherry？〃　
　〃You　wouldn't　happen　to　have　a　cold　Bud？〃　
　Pendergast　looked　pained。　〃Would　a　Pilsner　Urquell　do？〃　
　〃If　it's　beer；　it'll　do。〃　
　The　other　occupant　of　the　library…a　young　woman　in　a　long　salmon…colored　dress…rose　and　left　the　room。　Within　a　few　minutes；　she　was　back；　bearing　a　glass　of　beer　on　a　salver。　D'Agosta　took　it　and　drank　gratefully。　〃Thanks；　uh　。　。　。〃　
　〃Constance；〃　came　the　soft　reply。　
　〃Constance　Greene；〃　said　Pendergast。　〃My　ward。　This　is　Sergeant　Vincent　D'Agosta；　a　trusted　associate　of　mine。　He's　assisting　in　this　case。〃　
　D'Agosta　glanced　at　Pendergast。　His　ward？　What　the　hell　did　that　mean？　He　looked　back　more　curiously　at　the　girl。　She　was　beautiful；　in　a　pale；　delicate　kind　of　way。　Her　dress　was　very　proper　and　demure；　but　the　breasts　that　swelled　the　lace…front　brought　a　mostun　demure　stirring　to　D'Agosta's　loins。　Despite　the　old…fashioned　clothes；　she　looked　no　older　than　twenty。　But　those　violet　eyes　of　hers；　so　alert　and　intelligent；　somehow　didn't　look　like　the　eyes　of　a　young　girl　at　all。　Not　at　all。　
　〃Glad　to　meet　you；〃　said　D'Agosta；　straightening　up　in　his　chair　and　wincing。　
　〃Are　you　hurt？〃　Pendergast　asked。　
　〃Just　about　everywhere。〃　D'Agosta　took　another　long　pull。　
　
　〃Tell　us　what　happened。〃　
　D'Agosta　set　down　the　glass。　〃I'll　start　at　the　beginning。　I　visited　Lady　Milbanke　first。　She　was　a　plete　wash。　All　she　wanted　to　do　was　talk　about　her　new　emerald　necklace。　Cutforth　wasn't　much　better：　lied　about　the　reason　Grove　called　him；　answered　questions　evasively　if　at　all。　Last　was　Bullard；　at　the　New　York　Athletic　Club。　Claims　he　hardly　knew　Grove；　doesn't　know　why　he　called；　can't　really　remember　what　they　chatted　about；　doesn't　know　how　Grove　got　his　number。　A　liar　through　and　through；　and　didn't　even　bother　to　hide　it。〃　
　〃Interesting。〃　
　〃Yeah；　a　real　piece　of　work。　Big；　ugly；　arrogant　motherf…〃　D'Agosta　glanced　at　the　girl。　〃Man。　Basically；　he　blew　me　off。　I　left；　ate　dinner　at　Mullin's　Pub　over　on　Broadway。　Caught　sight　of　a　gold　Impala　more　than　once。　Took　the　subway　to　96th　and　walked　over　to　Riverside。　Hoofed　it　from　there。　The　Impala　reappeared　again　around　130th。〃　
　〃Heading　north　or　south？〃　
　D'Agosta　wondered　why　that　was　important。　〃North。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　
　〃I　saw　something　was　about　to　e　down；　so　I　ran　into　Riverside　Park。　Two　guys　jumped　out　and　chased　me；　shooting　laser…sighted　handguns：　accurate；　large…caliber。　Chased　me　through　the　park。　I　ran　down　toward　the　West　Side　Highway　and　came　up　against　a　chain…link　fence。　I　really　thought　it　was　over。　Then　I　noticed　a　recent　car　wreck　fifty　yards　on。　Some　shitbox　had　gone　through　the　fence；　making　a　gap。　Just　left　the　car　rotting　there。　I　dove　through　the　gap；　lost　them　on　the　highway；　flagged　down　a　car。　It　let　me　off　at　the　next　exit；　but　I　couldn't　get　a　cab　and　had　to　walk　the　thirty　blocks　back　down。　Sticking　to　the　shadows　the　whole　way；　watching　out　for　that　Impala…it　took　quite　some　time。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded　again。　〃So　one　of　the　men　followed　you　onto　the　subway；　the　other　drove　the　car。　They　reconnected　and　tried　to　cut　you　off。〃　
　〃That's　how　I　figured　it。　An　old　trick。〃　
　〃Did　you　return　fire？〃　
　〃Lot　of　good　it　did　me。〃　
　〃Ah！　And　your　vaunted　shooting　ability？〃　
　D'Agosta　looked　down。　〃Little　rusty。〃　
　〃The　question　is；　who　sent　them？〃　
　〃It　seemed　to　happen　awful　damn　fast　after　I　got　Bullard　stirred　up。〃　
　〃Perhaps　too　fast。〃　
　〃Bullard　didn't　look　like　the　kind　of　guy　who　would　wait。　He's　the　decisive　type。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　
　Throughout　this　recitation；　the　young　woman　had　listened　politely。　Now　she　rose　from　the　couch。　〃With　your　permission；　I'll　leave　you　to　discuss　this　matter　amongst　yourselves。〃　She　had　a　precise；　mannered　way　of　speaking；　and　a　faint　accent　that　for　some　reason　reminded　D'Agosta　of　old　black…and…white　movies。　She　came　over　and　kissed　Pendergast　lightly　on　the　cheek。　〃Good　night；　Aloysius。〃　Then　she　turned　toward　D'Agosta　and　nodded。　〃A　pleasure　to　make　your　acquaintance；　Sergeant。〃　
　A　moment　later　the　door　to　the　library　closed；　and　silence　fell。　
　〃Ward；　huh？〃　said　D'Agosta。　
　Pendergast　nodded。　
　〃Where'd　she　e　from？〃　
　〃I　inherited　her　with　the　house。〃　
　〃How　the　heck　do　you　'inherit'　someone？　She　a　relative？〃　
　〃Not　a　relative。　It's　rather　plicated。　This　house　and　its　collections　were　passed　down　to　me　from　my　great…uncle　Antoine。　She　was　discovered　in　the　house　by　an　acquaintance　of　mine　who　cataloged　the　mansion's　collections　during　the　summer。　She'd　been　hiding　here。〃　
　〃For　how　long？〃　
　There　was　a　pause。　〃A　good　while。〃　
　〃What　is　she；　a　runaway？　Doesn't　she　have　family？〃　
　〃She's　an　orphan。　My　great…uncle　had　taken　her　in；　looked　after　her　welfare；　educated　her。〃　
　〃Yeah？　He　sounds　like　a　saint。〃　
　〃Hardly。　As　it　happens；　Constance　was　the　only　person　he　ever　cared　for。　In　fact；　he　continued　caring　for　her　long　after　he'd　stopped　caring　even　about　himself。　He　was　a　misanthrope；　but　she　was　the　exception　that　proved　his　rule。　In　any　case；　it　seems　I'm　her　only　family　now。　But　I　must　ask　you　not　to　mention　any　of　this　in　her　presence。　The　last　six　months　have　been　exceptionally　。　。　。　trying　for　her。〃　
　〃How　so？〃　
　〃That　is　something　better　left　in　the　past。　Suffice　it　to　say；　Vincent；　that　Constance　is　the　innocent　beneficiary　of　a　set　of　diabolical　experiments　conducted　long　ago。　Seeing　how　her　own　family　was　victimized　early　on　by　those　experiments；　I　feel　bound　to　look　after　her　well…being。　It's　a　plication　I　certainly　did　not　anticipate。　However；　her　knowledge　of　this　house　and　its　library　is　proving　invaluable。　She　will　make　an　excellent　research　assistant　and　curator。〃　
　〃At　least　she's　not　hard　to　look　at。〃　When　he　felt　Pendergast's　un…amused　gaze　on　him　D'Agosta　cleared　his　throat　and　added　hastily；　〃How　did　your　own　interviews　go？〃　
　〃Montcalm　could　add　little　to　what　we　already　know。　He　was　away　until　yesterday；　traveling。　It　seems　that　Grove　left　a　frantic　message　with　his　assistant：How　does　one　break　a　contract　with　the　devil？　The　assistant　threw　the　note　away…apparently　Montcalm　is　a　magnet　for　cranks　and　gets　many　such　messages。　He　could　add　nothing　else。　Fosco；　on　the　other　hand；　proved　to　be　most　interesting。〃　
　〃I　hope　you　really　sweated　him。〃　
　〃I'm　not　sure　who　sweated　who。〃　
　D'Agosta　could　not　imagine　anyone　sweating　Pendergast。　〃Is　he　involved？〃　
　〃That　depends　on　what　you　mean　by　involved。　He　is　a　remarkable　man；　and　his　recollections　proved　to　be　invaluable。〃　
　〃Well；　the　jury's　still　out　on　both　Cutforth　and　Bullard。〃　
　〃You　said　Cutforth　was　a　liar；　as　well　as　Bullard。　How　do　you　know？〃　
　〃He　told　me　Grove　had　called　him　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　wishing　to　buy　some　piece　of　rock　memorabilia。　I　bluffed　him　by　saying　Grove　hated　rock　music。　His　look　gave　him　away　immediately。〃　
　〃A　crude　lie。〃　
　〃He's　a