p&c.brimstone-第85部分

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　〃I've　said　there　was　a　hell　for　each　of　us。　That　hell　is　there；　waiting　for　each　one　of　you。　Satan　has　made　your　hell　so　very　easy　to　find；　with　a　wide　and　fortable　road　leading　straight　to　it。　It　is　far；　far　easier　for　us　to　go　with　the　flow；　to　stroll　unthinking　down　that　broad　pleasant　avenue；　far　easier　than　to　search　for　the　rough；　hidden　turnoff　that　leads　to　heaven。　We　must　fight　against　the　lure　of　the　easy　road。　It　is　a　fight；　my　friends；　a　fight　to　the　death。　Because　that　is　the　only　way…the　only　way…we　are　going　to　discover　that　difficult　trail　to　heaven。　I　ask　you　to　remember　this　in　the　trials　we　are　about　to　face。〃　
　And　then　he　turned　and　stepped　down　out　of　sight。　
　　　
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　When　D'Agosta　entered　Pendergast's　hotel　suite；　he　found　theagent　at　breakfast。　The　table　was　set　with　assorted　fruits；　breakfast　rolls；　and　the　inescapable　and　inevitable　tiny　espresso。　Pendergast　was　nibbling　daintily　at　poached　eggs　and　reading　what　looked　like　a　set　of　faxed　documents。　For　a　brief　moment；　D'Agosta　thought　of　the　earlier　meal　they'd　shared；　back　in　Southampton；　when　this　case　was　still　brand…new。　It　seemed　a　distant　memory　indeed。　
　〃Ah；　Vincent；〃　Pendergast　said。　〃e　in。　Would　you　care　to　order　something？〃　
　〃No；　thanks。〃　Although　it　was　a　beautiful　morning　and　sunlight　gilded　the　rooms；　D'Agosta　felt　as　if　a　threatening　cloud　was　hanging　over　them　both。　〃I'm　surprised　you've　got　an　appetite。〃　
　〃It's　important　I　take　some　refreshment　now。　I'm　not　sure　how　long　it　will　be　until　my　next　meal。　But　that　shouldn't　stop　you：　e；　have　a　croissant。　These　Alsatian　plum　preserves　from　Fauchon　are　delightful。〃　He　put　the　faxes　aside　and　picked　upLa　Nazione　。　
　〃What's　that　you　were　reading？〃　
　〃Some　faxes　from　Constance。　I'll　need　all　the；　ah；　ammunition　I　can　gather　for　what's　to　e。　She　has　proven　most　helpful。〃　
　D'Agosta　stepped　forward。　〃I'm　ing　with　you；〃　he　said　grimly。　〃I　want　to　get　that　straight　here　and　now　so　there　won't　be　any　questions　later。〃　
　Pendergast　lowered　the　paper。　〃I　assumed　you'd　make　such　a　demand。　Let　me　remind　you　the　invitation　was　for　me　alone。〃　
　〃I　doubt　that　fat…assed　count　would　have　any　objections。〃　
　〃You're　probably　right。〃　
　〃I've　e　all　this　way。　I've　been　shot　at　more　than　once；　lost　the　end　of　a　finger；　almost　been　pushed　off　a　cliff；　almost　beendriven　off　a　cliff。〃　
　〃Right　again。〃　
　〃So　don't　expect　me　to　spend　the　evening　relaxing　by　the　pool　with　a　few　cold　ones　while　you're　in　Fosco's　lair。〃　
　Pendergast　smiled　faintly。　〃I　have　one　more　errand　to　run　before　leaving　Florence。　Let's　discuss　it　then。〃　
　And　he　raised　the　paper　once　again。　
　Two　hours　later；　their　car　stopped　on　a　narrow　street　in　Florence；　outside　a　vast；　austere　building　of　rough　stone。　
　〃The　Palazzo　Maffei；〃　Pendergast　said　from　behind　the　wheel。　〃If　you　wouldn't　mind　waiting　here　a　moment？　I　won't　be　long。〃　He　got　out　of　the　car；　approached　a　brass　plaque　of　door　buzzers　set　into　the　facade；　scanned　the　names；　and　pressed　one。　A　moment　later；　a　muffled　voice　rasped　over　the　inter。　Pendergast　answered。　Then　the　great　door　buzzed　open　and　he　vanished　inside。　
　D'Agosta　watched；　curious。　He'd　picked　up　enough　Italian　to　know　that　what　Pendergast　said　into　the　inter　hadn't　sounded　right。　It　sounded　more　like　Latin；　to　tell　the　truth。　
　Getting　out　of　the　car；　he　crossed　the　narrow　street　and　examined　the　buzzers。　The　one　Pendergast　pressed　was　labeled　simplyCorso　Maffei　。　This　told　D'Agosta　nothing；　and　he　returned　to　their　rental　car。　
　Within　ten　minutes；　Pendergast　emerged　from　the　building　and　got　back　into　the　driver's　seat。　
　〃What　was　that　all　about？〃　D'Agosta　asked。　
　〃Insurance；〃　Pendergast　replied。　Then　he　turned　to　look　intently　at　D'Agosta。　〃The　chances　of　success　in　this　venture　are　not　much　better　than　fifty…fifty。　I　have　to　do　this。　You　do　not。　I　would　personally　prefer　it　if　you　didn't　e。〃　
　〃No　way。　We're　in　this　together。〃　
　〃I　see　you　are　determined。　But　let　me　just　remind　you；　Vincent；　that　you　have　a　son　and　what　appear　to　be　excellent　prospects　for　advancement；　promotion；　and　a　happy　life　ahead　of　you。〃　
　〃Isaid　；　we're　in　this　together。〃　
　Pendergast　smiled　and　laid　a　hand　on　his　arm…a　strangely　affectionate　gesture　from　a　man　who　hardly　ever　showed　affection。　〃I　knew　this　would　be　your　answer；　Vincent；　and　I　am　glad。　I　have　e　to　rely　on　your　mon　sense；　your　steadiness；　and　your　shooting　ability；　among　other　excellent　qualities。〃　
　D'Agosta　felt　himself　unaccountably　embarrassed　and　he　grunted　a　reply。　
　〃We　should　reach　the　castle　by　midafternoon。　I'll　brief　you　on　the　way。〃　
　The　road　running　south　from　Florence　into　Chianti　wound　through　some　of　the　prettiest　country　D'Agosta　had　ever　seen：　hills　striped　with　vineyards　turning　yellow　in　fall　colors；　and　pale　gray…green　olive　groves；　fairy…tale　castles　and　gorgeous　Renaissance　villas　sprinkled　on　hills　and　ridges。　Beyond　loomed　a　range　of　forested　mountains；　dotted　here　or　there　with　a　grim　monastery　or　an　ancient　bell　tower。　
　The　road　loosely　followed　the　ridges　above　the　Greve　River。　As　they　passed　over　the　Passo　dei　Pecorai；　the　town　of　Greve　came　into　view　far　below；　lying　in　a　low　valley　along　the　river。　As　they　came　around　another　bend　in　the　road；　Pendergast　pointed　a　finger　at　his　side　window。　〃Castel　Fosco；〃　he　said。　
　It　stood　on　a　lonely　spar　of　rock　far　up　in　the　Chiantigian　hills。　From　this　distance；　it　looked　to　D'Agosta　like　a　single　massive　tower；　crenellated　and　time…worn；　rising　above　the　forest。　The　road　turned；　dipped；　and　the　castle　disappeared。　A　moment　later　Pendergast　turned　off　the　main　road；　and　after　a　confusing　series　of　turns　onto　ever…smaller　lanes；　they　arrived　at　a　mossy　wall　with　an　iron　gate。　The　marble　plaque　beside　it　readCastel　Fosco。　The　open　gate　was　rotten　and　rusted；　and　it　seemed　to　have　settled　crookedly　into　the　very　ground　itself。　An　ancient　dirt　road　ran　up　from　the　gate　through　some　vineyards；　climbing　a　steep　hillside　and　disappearing　over　the　brow　of　the　hill。　
　As　they　wound　their　way　up　the　hillside；　Pendergast　nodded　toward　the　terraced　vineyards　and　groves　that　lined　the　road。　〃A　rich　estate；　apparently；　and　one　of　the　largest　in　Chianti。〃　
　D'Agosta　said　nothing。　Every　yard　they　drove　farther　into　the　count's　domain　seemed　to　increase　the　sense　of　oppression　that　hung　over　him。　
　The　road　topped　the　ridge　and　the　castle　came　into　view　again；　much　closer　now：　a　monstrous　stone　keep　perched　on　a　crag　far　up　the　mountainside。　Built　into　one　side　of　the　keep　was　a　later；　yet　still　ancient；　addition：　a　graceful　Renaissance　villa　with　a　pale　yellow　stuccoed　exterior　and　red…tile　roofs。　Its　rows　of　stately　windows　stood　in　strong　contrast　to　the　grim；　almost　brutal　lines　of　the　central　keep。　
　The　entire　structure　was　surrounded　by　a　double　set　of　walls。　The　outermost　was　almost　pletely　in　ruins；　consisting　mostly　of　gaps　of　tumbled　stone；　broken　towers；　and　crumbling　battlements。　The　inner　curtain　was　in　much　better　repair　and　acted　as　a　kind　of　retaining　wall　to　the　castle　itself；　its　enormous　ramparts　providing　fields　of　level　ground　around　the　exterior。　Beyond　the　castle；　the　slopes　of　the　mountain　rose　yet　another　thousand　feet　into　a　wild；　forested　amphitheater；　jagged　outcrops　forming　a　serrated　semicircular　edge　against　the　lowering　sky。　
　〃Over　five　thousand　acres；〃　said　Pendergast。　〃I　understand　it　dates　back　more　than　a　millennium。〃　
　But　D'Agosta　did　not　reply。　The　sight　of　the　castle　had　chilled　him　more　than　he　cared　to　admit。　The　sense　of　oppression　grew　stronger。　It　seemed　insane；　walking　into　the　lion's　den　like　this。　But　he'd　learned　to　trust　Pendergast　implicitly。　The　man　never　did　anything　without　a　reason。　He'd　outfoxed　the　sniper。　He'd　saved　them　from　death　at　the　hands　of　Bullard's　men。　He'd　saved　their　lives　many　times　before；　on　earlier　cases。　Pendergast's　plan…whatever　it　was…would　work。　
　Of　course　it　would　work。　
　　　
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　The　car　came　around　a　final　turn　and　passed　the　ruined　outergate。　The　castle　rose　above　them　in　its　stern　and　immense　majesty。　They　proceeded　down　an　avenue　of　cypress　trees　with　massive　ribbed　trunks　and　stopped　at　a　parking　area　just　outside　the　inner　curtain。　D'Agosta　peered　at　this　wall　through　the　passenger　window　with　deep　misgiving。　It　towered　twenty　feet　over　his　head；　its　great　sloping　buttresses　streaked　with　lime；　dripping　moss　and　maidenhair　ferns。　There　was　no　gate　in　this　inner　wall；　just　a　spiked　and　banded　pair　of　wooden　doors　at　the　top　of　a　broad　stone　staircase。　
　As　they　got　out　of　the　car；　there　was　a　humming　sound；　followed　by　a　deep　scraping　noise；　and　the　doors　opened　at　an　invisible　cue。　
　They　mounted　the　stairs；　passed　through　a　hulking　doorway；　and　stepped　into　what　seemed　like　another　world。　The　smooth　lawn　of　the　inner　ward　ran　for　a　hundred　yards　to　the　skirt　of　the　castle　itself。　To　one　side　of　the　lawn　lay　a　large；　circular　reflecting　pool　surrounded　by　an　ancient　marble　balustrade；　ornamented　at　its　center　by　a　statue　of　Neptune　astride　a　sea　monster。　To　the　right　stood　a　small　chapel　with　a　tiled　dome。　Beyond　was　another　marble　balustrade　overlooking　a　small　garden　that　stepped　down　the　hillside；　ending　abruptly　at　the　fortified　inne