ericlustbader.the ninja-第3章

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e　city。
　His　house　was　of　weathered　grey　shingle　and　coffee…coloured　brick　with　neither　the　pop…eyed　Plexiglas　bubble　windows　nor　the　bizarre　cantilevered　walls　dial　many　of　the　homes　had　along　this　stretch。　To　the　right　of　the　house；　the　dunes　abruptly　gave　way　to　flat　sand；　somewhat　lower　man　dial　of　the　surrounding　area。　There　had　been；　until　early　December；　a　house　worth　roughly　a　quarter　of　a　million　dollars　on　that　property；　but　the　winter　had　been　fully　as　foul　as　the　one　in　1977…8　and　it　had　been　washed　away　with　much　of　the　land　itself。　The　family　was　still　trying　to　get　the　insurance　money　to　rebuild。　In　the　meantime；　there　was　more　open　space　to　the　side　than　was　usual　along　this　densely　populated　and　highly　fashionable　beachfront。
　The　breakers　seemed　to　be　pounding　harder　as　the　tide　continued　to　sweep　in　and　he　felt　the　cold　salt　water　licking　up　his　ankles　to　his　calves。　The　bottoms　of　his　jeans；　though　turned　up　several　times；　pulled　heavy　with　washed　sand。　He　was　reaching　down　to　brush　them　out　when　a　figure　barrelled　into　him。　He　fell　backwards　with　a　grunt；　someone　sprawled　on　top　of　him。
　'Why　the　hell　don't　you　watch　where　you're　going？〃　he　yelled　crossly　as　he　disentangled　himself。
　'Sorry；　but　you　don't　have　to　scream；　do　you？　It　was　a　simple　mistake。'
　The　first　thing　he　saw　was　her　face；　though　before　that　he　smelled　her　perfume；　faintly　citric　and　as　dry　as　Dean　Whoolson's　voice。　Her　face　was　extremely　close　to　his。　Her　eyes　he　thought　at　first　were　hazel　but　then　　　　he　saw　that　they　certainly　had　more　green　in　them　than　brown。　There　were　one　or　two　red　flecks　floating　in　the　left　iris。　Her　skin　was　creamy　and　lightly　freckled。　Her　nose　was　rather　too　wide；　which　gave　her　character；　and　her　lips　were　plump；　which　gave　her　an　innate　sensuality。
　He　grasped　her　firmly　under　the　arms　and　lifted　her　with　him。
　She　immediately　drew　away；　crossing　her　arms　over　her　breasts。　'Don't　do　that。'　Still　she　eyed　him；　made　no　move　to　pass　him　by。　Her　fingers　curled；　rubbing　the　flesh　of　her　arms　as　if　his　grip　had　bruised　her。
　'Haven't　we　met　before？〃　he　said。
　Her　lips　jerked　in　a　quick　quirky　smile。　'You　can　do　better　than　that；　can't　you？'
　'No。　I　mean　it。　I've　seen　you　somewhere　before。'
　Her　eyes　darted　for　a　moment　over　his　shoulder。　When　they　again　alighted　on　him　she　said；　'I　don't　think　…'
　He　snapped　his　fingers。　'In　Sam　Goldman's　office。　The　fall　or　the　winter。〃　He　cocked　his　head。　I'm　　not　mistaken。〃
　Her　eyes　seemed　to　clear　as　if；　with　Sam's　name；　some　almost　invisible　curtain　had　been　raised　within　them。　'I　know　Sam　Goldman；'　she　said　slowly。　'I've　done　some　freelance　jobs　for　him。'　Now　she　put　one　long　forefinger　up　to　the　centre　of　her　lips；　the　clear…lacquered　nail　burnished　by　the　light。　The　inconstant　sound　of　the　voices　down　the　beach　seemed　to　swell　like　the　roar　of　a　crowd　at　the　advent　of　a　grand…slam　home　run　or　a　bit　of　defensive　heroics　in　the　outfield。
　'You're　Nicholas　Linnear；'　she　said；　and　when　he　nodded　she　pointed　at　him。　'He　talks　about　you　all　the　time。'
　He　smiled。　'But　you　don't　remember　our　meeting。'
　She　shrugged。　'I　don't　know；　really。　When　I'm　involved　in　my　work。。。'　Her　shoulders　lifted；　fell　again。
　Nicholas　laughed。　'I　might　have　been　somebody　important。'
　'Judging　by　your　reputation；　you　are。　But　you　just　walked　away　from　all　of　it。　I　think　that's　odd。'
　Squinting　up　at　him；　sunglasses；　she　looked　no　more　than　a　college　girl；　as　if　the　sunlight　passing　through　her　had　somehow　illuminated　some　previously　hidden　inner　innocence。　At　last　her　eyes　slid　away　from　him。　'What's　going　on　up　there；　anyway？〃
　'They　found　a　body　in　the　ocean。'
　'Oh？　Whose？〃
　He　shrugged。　'I've　no　idea。〃
　'Haven't　you　just　e　from　there？〃　Her　gaze　slid　back　from　the　distance　over　his　left　shoulder；　touching　his　face。　It　was　like　a　cool　summer's　breeze　after　sundown。　'You　must've　seen　them　pull　it　out。〃　Her　eyes　were　better　than　arms；　keeping　him　at　a　carefully　measured　distance。　There　was　something　peculiarly　childlike　in　that；　he　thought。　A　hurt　child　…　or　scared。　It　made　him　want　to　reach　out　and　touch　her　reassuringly。
　'I　left　before　it　happened；'　he　said。
　'Aren't　you　in　the　least　bit　curious？〃　She　seemed　unmindful　of　the　wind　that　flicked　at　the　thick　mane　of　her　dark　hair。　'It　could　be　someone　from　around　here。　You　know　how　incestuous　this　place　is　…　we're　all　from　the　same　business。〃
　'I　have　no　interest　in　it。　No。〃
　She　unfolded　her　arms；　put　her　hands　in　the　front　pockets　of　her　cut…off　jeans。　She　wore　a　plain；　sleeveless　top。　It　was　turquoise　and　set　off　her　eyes。　Her　firm　breasts　swelled　with　her　breathing；　the　nipples　visible　points。　Her　waist　was　narrow；　her　legs　long　and　elegant。　She　moved　like　a　dancer。
　'But　you　do　have　interests；　I　see；〃　she　said　flatly。　'How　would　you　feel　if　I　looked　at　you　that　way？〃
　'Flattered；'　he　said。　Td　certainly　feel　flattered。'
　Justine　was　an　advertising　art　designer；　living　four　houses　down　the　beach；　who　found　it　convenient　to　work　out　of　the　city　during　the　summer。
　'I　loathe　New　York　in　the　summer；'　she　told　him　the　next　afternoon　over　drinks。　'Do　you　know　that　I　once　spent　the　entire　summer　in　my　apartment　with　the　air　conditioning　on　full　and　never　once　moving　out　of　the　door？　I　was　deathly　afraid　I'd　get　overwhelmed　by　the　stench　of　dogshit。　I'd　call　D'Agostino　and　have　them　send　up　the　food　and；　once　or　twice　a　week；　the　office　would　send　up　this　big　brawny　fag　…　who　was　doing　the　director　under　the　desk　during　coffee　breaks　…　to　take　my　designs　and　bring　me　my　cheques。　But　even　with　that；　it　wasn't　enough　and　I　was　forced　out。　I　threw　some　stuff　in　a　bag　and　took　the　first　flight　out　to　Paris。　I　stayed　two　weeks　while　the　office　went　batshit　looking　for　me。'　She　turned　her　head　half　away　from　him；　sipping　at　her　Manhattan。　'However；　when　I　got　back；　the　only　thing　that　had　really　changed　was　mat　the　fag　was　gone。'
　The　sun　was　ing　down；　the　sea　devouring　its　crimson　bulk；　colour　lay　shimmering　on　the　water。　Then；　quite　abruptly；　it　was　dark：　not　even　the　little　lights　bobbing　far　out　to　sea。
　It　was　like　that　with　her；　he　reflected。　Brilliant　colour；　stories　on　the　surface；　but　what　lay　beneath；　in　the　night？
　'You're　not　going　back　to　Columbia；'　she　said；　'in　the　fall。'
　'No；　I'm　not。'
　She　said　nothing；　sat　back　on　the　Haitian　cotton　couch；　her　slender　arms　spread　wide　along　the　back；　they　went　out　of　the　pools　of　lamplight；　seemed　dark　wings；　hovering。　Then　she　cocked　her　head　to　one　side　and　it　seemed　to　him　as　if　the　icefloe　had　cracked；　ing　apart。
　'I　fell　in　love　with　the　campus；'　he　said；　deciding　to　answer　her　by　starting　at　the　beginning。　'Of　course；　it　was　the　be…ginning　of　February；　but　I　could　imagine　the　red　brick　walkways　lined　with　flowering　magnolia　and　dogwood；　quince　in　among　the　ancient　oaks。
　〃The　course　itself　…　Sources　of　Oriental　Thought　…　wasn't　really　too　bad　at　all。　The　students　at　least　were　inquisitive　and；　when　awake；　fairly　bright　…　some　of　them　startlingly　so。　They　seemed　surprised　that　I　was　interested　in　them。
　'I　was　curious　about　this；　at　first；　but　as　the　semester　wore　on；　I　came　to　understand　what　it　was　all　about。　The　other　professors　giving　the　course　had　appallingly　little　time　to　devote　to　the　students；　they　were　extremely　busy　researching　their　latest　books。　And　when　they　were　actually　teaching；　they　treated　their　students　with　contempt。
　'I　remember　sitting　in　on　a　class　just　after　mid…term。　Drs　Eng　and　Royston；　who　taught　the　meat　of　the　course；　announced　at　the　beginning　of　the　session　that　the　mid…term　papers　had　been　graded　and　were　ready　to　be　returned。　Royston　then　proceeded　to　give　his　lecture。　When　the　bell　rang；　Eng　asked　the　students　to　remain　seated　and；　with　perfect　precision；　laid　out　four　piles　of　papers　on　the　floor　at　the　front　of　the　hall。　〃Those　students　with　last　names　beginning　with　letters　A　through　F　will　find　their　papers　here；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　the　pile　on　his　right。　And　so　on。　Then　they　had　both　turned　away　and　left　the　hall　before　the　first　students　even　had　time　to　kneel；　scrabbling　through　the　piles。
　'It　was　degrading；'　Nicholas　said。　'That　kind　of　lack　of　respect　for　another　human　being　is　something　I　just　cannot　tolerate。'
　'So　you　liked　teaching。'
　He　thought　that　a　curious　thing　to　say。　'I　didn't　mind　it。'　He　made　himself　another　gin　and　tonic；　squeezed　a　section　of　lemon　before　dropping　it　into　the　ice…filled　glass。　'In　the　end　it　was　the　other　professors　who　made　the　semester　seem　long　to　me。　I　don't　imagine　they　thought　too　much　of　me。　After　all；　the　halls　of　academe　are　rather　closed。　Everyone　there　is　bound　by　the　stringency　of　the　situation。　〃Publish　or　perish〃　has　bee　a　cliché；　I　suppose。　But　for　them　it's　a　reality　which　they　must　face　every　day。〃　He　shrugged。　'I　imagine　they　resented　my　status。　I　had　all　the　best　parts　of　their　life　without　any　of　the　responsibilities。'
　'And　Royston　and　Eng。　What　were　they　like？'
　'Oh；　Royston　was　okay；　I　suppose。　Rather　stuffy　in　the　beginning　but…he　thawed　a　bit　later　on。　But　Eng'　…　he　shook　his　head　…　'Eng　was　a　bastard　all　right。　He　had　made　up　his　mind　about　me　before　we　had…even　been　introduced。　The　three　of　us　happened　to　he　in　the　lounge　one　afternoon。　〃So　you　were　born　in　Singapore；〃　he　said。　Just　like　that。　Standing　over　me；　peering　down　at　me　through　his　round　wire…rimmed　spectacles。　That's　what　they　must　have　been；　they　were　far　too　old…fashioned　to　be　called　glasses。　He　had　a　curious　manner　of　speech；　his　words　emerging　clipped；　almost　frozen；　so　that　you　could　imagine　them　hanging　in　mid…air　like　icicles。　〃A　disgusting　city；　if　you　will　pardon　my　saying　so。　Built　by　the　British；　who　had　no　more　regard　for　the　Chinese　than　they　did　for　the　Indians。〃'
　'What　did　you　say？'
　'Frankly；　I　was　too　stunned　to　say　much　of　anything；'　he　said　gloomily。　'The　bastard　had　hardly　said　two　words　to　me　all　semester。　He　took　me　quite　by　surprise。'
　'You　had　no　snappy　rejoinder。'
　'Only　that　he　was　wrong。　I　was　conceived　there。'　He　put　down　his　glass。　'I　asked　Dean　Whoolson　about　it　subsequently　but　he　merely　brushed　it　off。　〃Eng's　a　…genius；〃　was　how　he　put　it。　〃And　you　know　how　that　sort　is　sometimes。　I　must　tell　you；　we　are　damn　lucky　to　have　him　here。　He　almost　went　to　Harvard　but　we　snared　him　at　the　last　moment。　Convinced　him　of　the　superiority　of　our　research　facilities。〃　He　patted　me　on　the　back　as　if　I　were　the　department　mascot。　〃Who　ever　knows　with　Eng？〃　he　said。　〃Perhaps　he　thought　you　were　Malay。　We　all　must　make　allowances；　Mr　Linnear。〃'
　'I　don't　understand　that；'　Justine　said。　'You're　not　Malay；　are　you？'
　'No；　but　if　Eng　thought　I　was；　he　might　have　reason　to　dislike　me。　The　Chinese　and　the　Malays　were　constantly　at　each　other's　throats　in　the　Singapore　area。　No　love　lost　there。'
　'What　are　you？'　She　seemed　abruptly　quite　close　to　him；　her　eyes　enormous　and　very　luminous。　'There's　an　Asian　hint　in　your　face；　I　think。　In　your　eyes　perhaps；　or　in　the　height　of　your　cheekbones。'
　'My　father　was　English；'　he　said。　'A　Jew　who　was　forced　to　change　his　name　so　that　he　could　get　ahead　in　business　and　then；　during　the　war；　in　the　Army。　He　was　a　colonel。'
　'What　was　his　name？　Before　he　changed　it；　I　mean。'
　'I　don't　know。　He　woul