alistairmaclean.bearisland-第17章

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　A　wayward　and　capricious　lad；　our　invisible　friend：　Or　would　you　call　it　being　selective？〃
　I　don't　know　what　I'd　call　it；〃　Smithy　said　soberly。　〃But　I　know　what　I'd　call　you…devious；　off…putting；　side…tracking；　and　altogether　protesting　too　much　Without　offence；　of　course。〃
　〃Of　course。〃
　I　wouldn't　rate　you　as　anybody's　fool。　You　can't　tell　me　that　you　haven't　had　some　thoughts　along　those　lines。〃
　I　had。　But　because　I've　been　thinking　about　it　a　lot　longer　than　you；　I've　dismissed　them。　Motive；　opportunity；　means…impossible　to　find　any。　Don't　you　know　that　the　first　thing　a　doctor　does　when　he's　called　in　to　a　case　of　accidental　poisoning　is　to　suspect　that　it's　not　accidental？〃
　
〃So　you're　satisfied。〃
　〃As　can　be。〃
　I　see。〃　He　paused。　〃Do　you　know　we　have　a　transmitter　in　the　radio　office　that　can　reach　just　about　any　place　in　the　Northern　Hemisphere？
　I've　got　a　feeling　we're　going　to　have　to　use　it　soon。〃
　〃What　on　earth　for？〃
　〃Help。〃
　〃Help？〃
　〃Yes。　You　know。　The　thing　you　require　when　you're　in　trouble。　I　think　we　need　help　now。　Any　more　funny　little　accidents　and　I'll　be　damn　certain　we　need　help。〃
　〃I'm　sorry；〃　I　said。　〃You're　way　beyond　me。　Besides；　Britain's　a　long；　long　way　away　from　us　now。〃
　〃The　NATO　Atlantic　forces　aren't。　They're　carrying　out　fleet　exercises　somewhere　off　the　North　Cape。〃
　〃You're　well　informed；〃　I　said。
　〃It　pays　to　be　well　informed　when　I'm　talking　to　someone　who　claims　to　be　as　satisfied　as　can　be　over　three　very　mysterious　deaths　when　I'm　certain　that　someone　would　never　rest　and　could　never　be　satisfied　until　he　knew　exactly　how　those　three　people　had　died。　I've　admitted　I'm　not　very　bright　but　don't　pletely　underestimate　what　little　intelligence　I　have。〃
　I　don't。　And　don't　overestimate　mine。　Thanks　for　the　Otard…Dupuy。〃
　I　went　to　the　starboard　screen　door。　The　Morning　Rose　was　still　rolling　and　pitching　and　shaking　and　shuddering　as　she　battered　her　way　northwards　through　the　wild　seas　but　it　was　no　longer　possible　to　see　the　windtorn　waters　below：　we　were　in　a　world　now　that　was　almost　pletely　opaque；　a　blind　and　bitter　world　of　driving　white；　a　world　of　snowy　darkness　that　began　and　ended　at　scarcely　an　arm's…length　distance。　I　looked　down　at　the　wing　bridge　deck　and　in　the　pale　light　of　wash　from　the　wheelhouse　I　could　see　footprints　in　the　snow。　There　was　only　one　set　of　them；　sharp　and　clearly　limned　as　if　they　had　been　made　only　seconds　previously。　Somebody　had　been　there；　for　a　moment　I　was　certain　that　someone　had　been　there；　listening　to　Smith　and　myself　talking。　Then　I　realised　there　was　only　one　set；　the　set　I　had　made　myself　and　they　hadn't　been　filled　in　or　even　blurred　because　the　blizzard　driving　horizontally　across　the　wind　dodger　was　clearing　the　deck　at　my　feel？。　Sleep；　I　thought；　and　sleep　now：　for　with　that　lack　of　sleep；　the　tiring　events　of　the　past　few　hours；　the　sheer　physical　exhaustion　induced　by　the　violent　weather　and　Smithy's　dark　forebodings；　I　was　beginning　to　imagine　things。　I　realised　that　Smithy　was　at　my　shoulder。
　〃You　levelling　with　me；　Dr。　Marlowe？〃
　〃Of　course。　Or　do　you　think　Fin　the　invisible　Borgia　who's　flitting　around；　a　little　pinch　here；　a　little　pinch　there？〃
　〃No；　I　don't。　I　don't　think　you're　levelling　with　me；　either。〃　His　voice　was　sombre。　〃Maybe　someday　you　are　going　to　wish　you　were。〃
　Someday　I　was　going　to　wish　I　had　for　then　I　wouldn't　have　had　to　leave　Smithy　behind　in　Bear　Island。
　Back　in　the　saloon；　I　picked　up　the　booklet　Goin　had　given　me；　went　to　the　corner　settee；　found　myself　a　steamer　blanket；　decided　I　didn't　require　it　yet　and　wedged　myself　into　the　corner；　my　feel？　fortably　on　a　swivel　chair　belonging　to　the　nearest　table。　I　picked　up；　without　much　interest；　the　cardboard　file　and　was　debating　whether　to　open　it　when　the　lee　door　opened　and　Mary　Stuart　came　in。　There　was　snow　on　the　tangled　corn…coloured　hair　and　she　was　wearing　a　heavy　weed　coat。
　〃So　this　is　where　you　are。〃　She　banged　the　door　shut　and　looked　at　me　almost　accusingly。　
　〃This；〃　I　acknowledged；　〃is　where　I　am。〃
　〃You　weren't　in　your　cabin。　And　your　light's　gone。　Do　you　know　that？〃
　I　know　that。　I'd　some　writing　to　do。　That's　why　I　came　here。　Is　there　something　wrong？〃
　She　lurched　across　the　saloon　and　sat　heavily　on　the　settee　opposite　me。
　〃Nothing　more　than　has　been　wrong。〃　She　and　Smithy　should　meet　up；　they'd　get　on　famously。　〃Do　you　mind　if　I　stay　here？〃
　I　could　have　said　that　it　didn't　matter　whether　I　minded　or　not；　that　the　saloon　was　as　much　hers　as　mine；　but　as　she　seemed　to　be　a　touchy　sort　of　creature　I　just　smiled　and　said：　I　would　take　it　as　an　insult　if　you　left。〃
　She　smiled　back　at　me；　just　an　acknowledging　flicker；　and　settled　as　best　she　could　in　her　seat；　drawing　the　tweed　coat　around　her　and　bracing　herself　against　the　violent　movements　of　the　Morning　Rose。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　with　the　long　dark　lashes　lying　along　pale　wet　cheeks　her　high　cheekbones　were　more　pronounced　than　ever；　her　Slavonic　ancestry　unmistakable；
　It　was　no　great　hardship　to　look　upon　Mary　Stuart　but　I　still　felt　an　increasing　irritation　as　I　watched　her。　It　wasn't　so　much　her　fey　imaginings　and　need　for　pany　that　made　me　uneasy；　it　was　the　obvious　disfort　she　was　experiencing　in　trying　to　keep　her　seated　balance　while　I　was　wedged　so　very　fortably　in　my　own　place：　there　is　nothing　more　unfortable　than　being　fortable　one's　self　and　watching　another　in　acute　disfort；　not　unless；　of　course；　one　has　a　feeling　of　very　powerful　antagonism　towards　the　other　party；　in　which　case　a　very　fortable　feeling　can　be　induced：　but　I　had　no　such　antagonism　towards　the　girl　opposite。　To　pound　my　feeling　of　guilt　she　began　to　shiver　involuntarily。
　〃Here；〃　I　said。　〃You'd　be　more　fortable　in　my　scat。　And　there's　a　rug　here　you　can　have。〃
　She　opened　her　eyes。　〃No；　thank　you。〃
　〃There　are　plenty　more　rugs；〃　I　said　in　something　like　exasperation。
　Nothing　brings　out　the　worst　in　me　more　quickly　than　sweetly　smiling　suffering。　I　picked　up　the　rug；　did　my　customary　two…step　across　the　heaving　deck　and　draped　the　rug　over　her。　She　looked　at　me　gravely　and　said　nothing。
　Back　in　my　corner　I　picked　up　the　booklet　again　but　instead　of　reading　it　got　to　wondering　about　my　cabin　and　those　who　might　visit　it　during　my　absence。　Mary　Stuart　had　visited　it；　but　then　she'd　told　me　she　had　and　the　fact　that　she　was　here　now　confirmed　the　reason　for　her　visit。　At　least；　it　seemed　to　confirm　it。　She　was　scared；　she　said；　she　was　lonely　and　so　she　naturally　wanted　pany。　Why　my　pany？　Why　not　that　of；　say；　Charles　Conrad　who　was　a　whole　lot　younger；　nicer；　and　better　looking　than　I　was？　Or　even　his　other　two　fellow　actors；　Gunther　Jungbeck　and　ion　Heyter；　both　very　personable　characters　indeed？　Maybe　she　wanted　to　be　with　me　for　all　the　wrong　reasons。　Maybe　she　was　watching　me；　maybe　she　was　virtually　guarding　me；　maybe　she　was　giving　someone　the　opportunity　to　visit　my　cabin　while…I　was　suddenly　very　acutely　aware　that　there　were　things　in　my　cabin　that　I'd　rather　not　be　seen　by　others。
　I　put　the　book　down　and　headed　for　the　lee　door。　She　opened　her　eyes　and　lifted　her　head。
　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　〃Out。〃
　〃I'm　sorry。　I　just…are　you　ing　back？〃
　〃I'm　sorry；　too。　I'm　not　rude；〃　I　lied；　〃just　tired。　Below。　Back　in　a　minute。〃
　She　nodded；　her　eyes　following　me　until　I　closed　the　door　behind　me。
　Once　outside　I　remained　still　for　twenty　seconds　or　so；　ignoring　the　vagrant　flurries　of　snow　that　even　here；　on　the　lee　side；　seemed　bent　on　getting　down　my　collar　and　up　the　trouser　cuffs；　then　walked　quickly　foreword。　I　peered　through　the　plate…glass　window　and　she　was　sitting　as　I'd　left　her；　only　now　she　had　her　elbows　on　her　knees　and　her　face　in　her　hands；　shaking　her　head　slowly　from　side　to　side。　Ten　years　ago　I'd　have　been　back　in　that　saloon　pretty　rapidly；　arms　round　her　and　telling　her　that　all　her　troubles　were　over。　That　was　ten　years　ago。　Now　I　just　looked　at　her；　wondered　if　she　had　been　expecting　me　to　take　a　peck　at　her；　then　made　my　way　foreword　and　down　to　the　passenger　acmodation。
　It　was　after　midnight　but　not　yet　closing　hours　in　the　lounge　bar；　for　Lonnie　Gilbert；　with　a　heroically　foolhardy　disregard　for　what　would　surely　be　Otto's　fearful　wrath　when　the　crime　was　discovered；　had　both　glass　doors　swung　open　and　latched　in　position；　while　he　himself　was　ensconced　in　some　state　behind　the　bar　itself；　a　bottle　of　malt　whisky　in　one　hand；　a　soda　syphon　in　the　other。　He　beamed　paternally　at　me　as　I　passed　through　and　as　it　seemed　late　in　the　day　to　point　out　to　Lonnie　that　the　better　class　malts　stood　in　no　need　of　the　anaemic　assistance　of　soda　I　just　nodded　and　went　below。
　If　anybody　had　been　in　my　cabin　and　gone　through　my　belongings；　he'd　done　it　in　a　very　circumspect　way。　As　far　as　I　could　recall　everything　was　as　I　had　left　it　and　nothing　had　been　disturbed　but；　then；　a　practised　searcher　rarely　left　any　trace　of　his　passing。　Both　my　cases　had　elasticised　linen　pockets　in　the　lids　and　in　each　pocket　in　each　lid；　holding　the　lids　as　nearly　horizontal　as　possible；　I　placed　a　small　Goin　just　at　the　entrance　to　the　pocket。　Then　I　locked　the　cases。　In　spite　of　the　trawler's　wildly　erratic　behaviour　those　coins　would　remain　where　they　were；　held　in　place　by　the　pressure　of　the　clothes　inside　but　as　soon　as　the　lid　was　opened；　the　pressure　released；　and　the　lid　then　lifted　even　partway　towards　the　vertical；　the　Coins　would　slide　down　to　the　feel？　of　the　pockets。　I　then　locked　my　medical　bag…it　was　considerably　larger　and　heavier　than　the　average　medical　bag　but　then　it　held　a　considerably　greater　amount　of　equipment　…and　put　it　out　in　the　passage。　I　closed　the　door　behind　me；　carefully　wedging　a　spent　book　match　between　the　foot　of　the　door　and　the　sill：　that　door　would　have　to　open　only　a　crack　and　the　match　would　drop　clear。　Lonnie；　unsurprisingly；　was　still　at　his　station　in　the　lounge　when　I　reached　there。
　〃Aha！〃　He　regarded　his　empty　glass　with　an　air　of　surprise；　then　reached　out　with　an　unerring　hand。　〃The　kindly　healer　with　his　bag　of　tricks。
　Hot…foot　to　the　succour　of　suffering　mankind？　A　new　and　dreadful　epidemic；　is　it？　Your　old　Uncle　Lonnie　is　proud　of　you；　boy；　proud　of　you。　This　Hippocratic　spirit…〃　He　broke　off　only　to　resume　almost　at　once。
　〃Now　that　we　have　touched；　inadvertently　chanced　upon；　as　one　might　say；　this　topic…spirit；　the　blushful　hippocrene…I　wonder　if　by　any　chance　you　would　care　to　join　me　in　a　thimbleful　of　the　elixir　I　have　here…？'
　〃Thank　you；　Lonnie；　no。　Why　don't　you　get　to　bed？　If　you　keep　it　up　like　this；　you　won't　be　able　to　get　up　tomorrow。〃
　〃And　that；　my　dear　boy；　is　the　whole　point　of　the　exercise；　I　don't　want　to　get　up　tomorrow。　The　day　after　tomorrow？　Well；　yes；　if　I　must；　I'll　face　the　day　after　tomorrow。　I　don't　want　to；　mind　you；　for　tomorrows；　We　found；　are　always　distressingly　similar　to　todays。　The　only　good　thing　you　can　say　about　a　today　is　that　at　any　given　moment　such　and　such　a　portion　of　it　is　already　irrevocably　past'…he　paused　to　admire　his　speech　control…〃Irrevocably　past；　as　I　say；　and；　with　the　passing　of　every　moment；　so　much　less　of　it　to　e。　But　all　of　tomorrow　is　still　to　e。　Think　of　it。　All　of　it…the　livelong　day。〃　He　lifted　his