p&c.brimstone-第17章

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　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　crude　man；　and　pretty　stupid　to　boot。　I　imagine　he's　good　at　what　he　does；　though；　given　all　the　dough　he's　made。〃　
　〃Intelligence；　culture；　and　education　are　not　qualities　generally　associated　with　the　popular　music　business。〃　
　〃Well；　Bullard's　on　another　level。　He's　crude；　too；　but　highly　intelligent。　I　wouldn't　underestimate　him。　The　fact　is　they　both　know　a　lot　more　about　Grove's　death　than　they're　telling。　We　can　crack　Cutforth；　I'm　pretty　sure…he's　a　wuss…but　Bullard's　going　to　be　a　tough　nut。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　〃The　forensic　report　on　Grove's　body　should　be　ready　tomorrow。　That　may　give　us　badly　needed　information。　The　critical　thing　now　is　to　find　the　connection　between　Bullard；　Cutforth；　and　Grove。　If　we　find　that　connection；　Vincent；　we'll　have　the　key　to　this　entire　mystery。〃　
　　　
　17
　
　Dr。　Jack　Dienphong　cast　his　eye　about　his　laboratory：　examiningthe　metal　tables；　the　chemical　hoods　and　glove　boxes；　microscopes；　SEMs；　microtomes；　and　titration　setups。　It　wasn't　pretty；　but　it　was　organized　and　functional。　Dienphong　was　chief　of　the　FBI's　Forensic　Science　Division　on　Congress　Street；　and　he　was　very　curious　to　meet…at　last…this　Special　Agent　Pendergast　he　had　heard　so　much　about。　
　He　glanced　down　at　the　scribbled　index　card　in　his　hand；　running　through　his　notes　one　more　time。　Most　of　it　was　in　his　head：　the　index　card　was　more　for　fort　than　anything　else。　He　felt　a　disquieting　sense　of　apprehension。　He　didn't　like　what　he　was　going　to　have　to　report；　and　he　just　hoped　the　famous…some　said　infamous…agent　would　understand。　In　Dienphong's　opinion；　the　worst　mistake　one　could　make　in　forensic　chemistry　was　to　overinterpret　results。　Do　that　enough　times；　and　eventually　you'd　send　an　innocent　man　to　prison。　It　was　Dienphong's　greatest　fear。　He　wouldn't　stretch　results　for　anyone；　not　even　someone　as　formidable　as　Pendergast。　
　There　was　a　stir　at　the　door；　and　Dienphong　glanced　at　his　watch。　On　time　almost　to　the　second；　already　confirming　one　thing　he'd　heard　Pendergast　was　famous　for。　A　moment　later　the　door　opened；　and　a　slender　man　in　a　black　suit　entered；　followed　by　Special　Agent　in　Charge　Carlton；　chief　of　the　Southern　District　Field　Office；　and　a　hushed　group　of　junior　agents　and　assistants。　There　was　an　almost　palpable　excitement　in　the　air；　the　kind　of　excitement　high…profile　cases　always　generated。　And　only　a　high…profile　case　like　this　would　bring　somebody　like　Carlton　in　on　a　Sunday。　All　the　pertinent　evidence　had　been　forwarded　to　the　FBI　by　local　police　for　in…depth　analysis。　And　now　it　was　up　to　Dienphong　to　piece　everything　together　for　them。　His　feeling　of　apprehension　did　not　diminish。　
　Dienphong　observed　the　stranger　carefully。　Pendergast　was　just　as　people　had　described　him；　moving　with　the　efficiency　and　grace　of　a　cat。　His　hair　was　so　blond　it　was　almost　white；　his　face　cool　and　patrician；　his　pale　eyes　restlessly　taking　in　everything。　Dienphong　had　met　many　FBI　agents　in　his　time；　but　this　one　was　in　another　category　altogether。　
　Those　ice　cool　eyes　alighted　on　Dienphong；　and　the　agent　came　striding　over。　〃Dr。　Dienphong；〃　the　man　said　in　the　buttery　tones　of　the　Deep　South。　
　〃A　pleasure。〃　Dienphong　took　the　dry　hand。　
　〃I　thought　your　piece　in　theJournal　of　Forensics　on　the　maturation　rate　of　blowfly　larvae　in　the　human　cadaver　to　be　fine　reading。〃　
　〃Thank　you。〃　He　hadn't　quite　thought　of　the　article　as　〃fine　reading〃　himself；　but　then　each　to　his　own。　Dienphong's　idea　of　fine　reading　was　Johnson'sRambler　essays。　
　〃The　presentation　is　all　ready；〃　he　said；　gesturing　toward　a　double　row　of　metal　chairs　set　up　before　a　projection　screen。　〃We're　going　to　begin　with　a　brief　visual　presentation。〃　
　〃Excellent。〃　
　The　agents　seated　themselves　with　murmurs；　coughing；　and　scraping　of　chairs。　Special　Agent　in　Charge　Carlton　took　up　position　in　the　front　row　center；　his　thick　thighs　spilling　off　the　edges　of　the　seat。　
　Dienphong　nodded　toward　his　assistant　and　the　lights　dimmed。　He　switched　on　the　puter　projector。　
　〃Please　feel　free　to　interrupt　with　questions　at　any　time。〃　He　called　up　the　first　image。　〃We'll　go　from　simplest　to　most　plex。　This　is　a　50x　sample　of　the　sulfur　recovered　at　the　site。　Our　chemical　analysis　showed　it　to　be　natural；　with　trace　elements　that　indicate　a　volcanic　origin。　It　had　been　rapidly　heated　and　burned　by　unknown　means。　When　sulfur　burns；　it　bines　with　oxygen　to　make　sulfur　dioxide　gas；　SO2；　which　has　a　very　strong　odor…the　smell　of　burned　matches。　If　it　then　es　in　contact　with　water；　it　creates　H2SO4；　also　known　as　sulfuric　acid。　
　〃These　fibers　here〃　…the　next　image　came　up…〃are　from　the　victim's　clothing。　Note　the　pitting　and　curling：　clear　effects　of　sulfuric　acid　on　the　victim's　clothes。〃　
　Three　more　images　in　quick　succession。　〃As　you　can　see；　there　was　even　microscopic　pitting　on　the　victim's　plastic　glasses；　and　in　the　varnish　on　the　walls　and　floor；　from　the　intense　release　of　sulfur　pounds。〃　
　〃Any　idea　of　the　specific　volcanic　source？〃　It　was　Pendergast　who　spoke。　
　〃That's　almost　impossible　to　answer。　We'd　have　to　analyze　and　pare　this　with　thousands　of　known　volcanic　sources；　an　overwhelming　job　even　if　we　could　get　the　samples。　What　I　can　tell　you　is　that　the　high　proportion　of　silicon　indicates　a　continental；　as　opposed　to　an　oceanic；　source。　In　other　words；　this　sulfur　didn't　e　from　Hawaii　or；　say；　the　seafloor。〃　
　Pendergast　settled　back；　his　expression　unreadable　in　the　dark　room。　
　〃This　next　image　shows　some　microsections　of　the　burned　wood　of　the　floor　from　the　so…called　hoofprint。〃　Several　more　images　flashed　across　the　screen。　Dienphong　cleared　his　throat。　Here　is　where　the　difficulties　began。　
　〃You　will　note　the　very　deep　penetration　of　the　burn　into　the　wood。　You　can　see　it　better　at　200x。〃　
　Another　slide。　〃This　was　not　caused　by　a　'branding　iron'　effect。〃　He　paused；　swallowed。　〃That　is　to　say；　this　mark　was　not　burned　into　the　floor　by　a　red…hot　object　being　impressed　into　the　wood。　It　was　caused　by　an　intense　burst　of　nonionizing　radiation；　probably　in　the　very　short　infrared　wavelength　range；　which　deeply　penetrated　the　wood。〃　
　Carlton　spoke　up；　as　Dienphong　knew　he　would。　〃You　mean；　the　perp　didn't　heat　something　up　and　press　it　on　the　wood？〃　
　〃Exactly。　Nothing　actuallytouched　the　wood。　The　burn　was　made　by　a　short　blast　of　pure　radiation。〃　
　Carlton　shifted；　the　chair　uttering　a　dangerous　groan。　〃Wait　a　minute。　How　can　that　be？〃　
　〃My　job　is　to　describe；　not　interpret；〃　said　Dienphong；　flicking　up　the　next　slide。　
　But　the　chief　hadn't　finished。　〃Are　you　saying　the　mark　was　made　with　some　kind　ofray　gun　？〃　
　〃I　can't　say　what　the　source　of　the　radiation　was。〃　
　Carlton　settled　back　with　a　dubious　grunt。　
　〃This　brings　us　to　the　cross。〃　The　next　slide　came　up。　〃Our　art　expert　has　identified　this　as　a　rare　example　of　a　seventeenth…century　Tuscan　cross；　monly　worn　by　the　noble　classes。　It　is　made　of　gold　and　silver；　layered；　fused；　and　hand…chased　to　produce　a　rather　interesting　effect　known　aslamellés　fines　。　It　was　then　set　in　wood；　which　has　largely　burned　away。〃