pdouglas.thecodex-第3节

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　sniffed　the　air。　No　sweet…and…sour…pork　smell　of　a　stiff。
　Inside；　the　robbery　felt　just　as　old　as　it　did　outside。　A　week；　maybe　even　two。　He　bent　down　and　sniffed　the　end　of　a　cut　piece　of　lumber　lying　on　the　floor。　It　lacked　that　just…cut　fresh…wood　smell。　He　picked　up　a　piece　of　grass　that　had　been　tracked　into　the　house　and　crumbled　it　between　his　fingers…dry。　Clots　of　mud　tracked　in　by　a　lugged　boot　were　also　thoroughly　dry。　Barnaby　thought　back：　Last　rainfall　was　two　weeks　ago　today。　That's　when　it　had　happened；　within　twenty…four　hours　of　the　rain；　when　the　ground　was　still　muddy。
　He　wandered　down　the　huge　vaulted　central　hall。　There　were　pedestals　with　bronze　labels　where　statues　had　once　stood。　There　were　faint　rectangles　with　hooks　on　the　plastered　walls　where　paintings　had　once　been。　There　were　straw　rings　and　iron　stands　where　antique　pots　had　once　sat；　and　empty　shelves　with　dust　holes　where　treasures　had　once　stood。　There　were　dark　slots　on　the　bookshelves　where　books　had　been　removed。
　He　reached　the　bedroom　door　and　looked　at　the　parade　of　dirty　footprints　ing　and　going。　More　dried　mud。　Christ；　there　must've　been　half　a　dozen　of　them。　This　was　a　big　moving　job；　and　it　must　have　taken　a　day　at　least；　maybe　two。
　A　machine　sat　inside　the　bedroom。　Barnaby　recognized　it　as　a　foam…in…place　machine；　of　the　kind　you　see　at　UPS。　In　another　room；　he　found　a　shrink…wrapping　machine　for　doing　the　really　big　stuff。　He　found　stacks　of　lumber；　rolls　of　felt；　metal　strapping　tape；　bolts　and　wing　nuts；　and　a　couple　of　skill　saws。　Couple　of　thousand　dollars'　worth　of　abandoned　equipment。　They　hadn't　bothered　taking　anything　else；　in　the　living　room　they'd　left　a　ten…thousand…dollar　television；　along　with　a　VCR；　DVD；　and　two　puters。　He　thought　of　his　own　crappy　TV　and　VCR　and　the　payments　he　was　still　making；　while　his　wife　and　her　new　boyfriend　were　no　doubt　watching　porno　flicks　on　them　every　night。
　He　carefully　stepped　over　a　videotape　cassette　lying　on　the　floor。　Fenton　said；　〃Lay　you　three　to　five　the　guy's　dead；　two　to　five　it's　an　insurance　scam。〃
　〃You　take　all　the　fun　out　of　life；　Fenton。〃
　Someone　must　have　seen　the　activity　up　here。　The　house；　sitting　on　its　mountaintop；　was　visible　to　all　of　Santa　Fe。　If　he　himself　had　bothered　to　look　out　the　window　of　his　double…wide　in　the　valley　two　weeks　ago　he　might　have　seen　the　robbery；　the　house　ablaze　all　night　long；　the　truck　headlights　winding　down　the　hill。　Again；　he　marveled　at　the　moxie　of　the　robbers。　What　made　them　so　sure　of　pulling　it　off？　It　was　too　casual　by　half。
　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　He　didn't　have　much　time　before　the　crime…scene　van　arrived。
　He　moved　swiftly　and　methodically　through　the　rooms；　looking　but　taking　no　notes。　Notes；　he　had　learned；　always　came　back　to　bite　you。　Every　room　had　been　hit。　The　job　had　gone　to　pletion。　In　one　room　a　bunch　of　boxes　had　been　unpacked　and　paper　lay　scattered　on　the　floor。　He　picked　up　a　piece；　some　kind　of　bill　of　lading；　dated　a　month　ago；　for　twenty…four　thousand　dollars'　worth　of　French　pots　and　pans；　German　and　Japanese　knives。　Was　the　guy　starting　a　restaurant？
　In　the　bedroom；　in　the　back　of　a　walk…in　closet；　he　found　a　huge　steel　door；　partway　open。
　〃Fort　Knox；〃　said　Fenton。
　Barnaby　nodded。　With　a　house　full　of　million…dollar　paintings；　it　kind　of　made　him　wonder　what　was　so　valuable　that　it　had　to　go　into　a　vault。
　Without　touching　the　door　he　slipped　inside。　The　vault　was　empty　save　some　scattered　trash　on　the　floor　and　a　bunch　of　wooden　map　cases。　Slipping　out　his　handkerchief；　he　used　it　to　open　a　drawer。　The　velvet　bore　indentations　where　objects　had　once　nested。　He　slid　it　shut　and　turned　to　the　door　itself；　giving　the　lock　a　quick　examination。　There　were　no　signs　of　a　forced　entry。　None　of　the　locked　cases　he'd　seen　in　the　rooms　had　been　forced；　either。
　〃The　perps　had　all　the　codes　and　keys；〃　said　Fenton。
　Barnaby　nodded。　This　was　no　robbery。
　He　went　outside　and　made　a　quick　circle　of　the　gardens。　They　looked　neglected。　Weeds　were　ing　up。　Nothing　had　been　tended　to。　The　grass　hadn't　been　cut　in　a　couple　of　weeks。　The　whole　place　had　a　seedy　air　about　it。　The　neglect；　it　seemed　to　him；　stretched　back　even　more　than　the　two　weeks　since　the　so…called　robbery。　It　looked　like　the　place　had　been　going　downhill　for　a　month　or　two。
　If　insurance　was　involved；　so　were　the　sons。　Maybe。
　
　3

　He　found　them　standing　in　the　shade　of　the　pi？on　tree；　arms　crossed；　silent　and　glum。　As　Barnaby　approached；　the　guy　in　the　suit　asked；　〃Did　you　find　anything？〃
　〃Like　what？〃
　The　man　scowled。　〃Do　you　have　any　idea　what's　been　stolen　here？　We're　talking　hundreds　of　millions。　Good　God；　how　could　anyone　expect　to　get　away　with　this？　Some　of　these　are　world…famous　works　of　art。　There's　a　Filippo　Lippi　worth　forty　million　dollars　alone。　They're　probably　on　their　way　to　the　Middle　East　or　Japan。　You've　got　to　call　the　FBI；　contact　Interpol；　shut　down　the　airports…〃
　He　paused　to　draw　in　air。
　〃Lieutenant　Barnaby　has　some　questions；〃　said　Fenton；　taking　up　the　role　he　played　so　well；　his　voice　curiously　high　and　soft；　with　an　undercurrent　of　menace。　〃State　your　names；　please。〃
　The　one　with　the　cowboy　boots　stepped　forward。　〃I'm　Tom　Broadbent；　and　these　are　my　brothers；　Vernon　and　Philip。〃
　〃Look；　officer；〃　the　one　named　Philip　said；　〃these　artworks　are　obviously　headed　for　some　sheik's　bedroom。　They　could　never　hope　to　sell　these　paintings　on　the　open　market…they're　too　well　known。　No　offense；　but　I　really　don't　think　the　Santa　Fe　Police　Department　is　equipped　to　handle　this。〃
　Barnaby　flipped　open　his　notebook　and　checked　his　watch。　He　still　had　almost　thirty　minutes　before　the　crime…lab　truck　arrived　from　Albuquerque。
　〃May　I　ask　a　few　questions；　Philip？　Okay　if　I　use　first　names　here？〃
　〃Fine；　fine；　just　get　on　with　it。〃
　〃Ages？〃
　〃I'm　thirty…three；〃　Tom　said。
　〃Thirty…five；〃　said　Vernon。
　〃Thirty…seven；〃　said　Philip。
　〃Tell　me；　how　is　it　that　all　three　of　you　just　happened　to　be　here　at　once？〃　He　directed　his　gaze　toward　the　New　Age　type；　Vernon；　the　one　who　looked　like　the　least　petent　liar。
　〃Our　father　sent　us　a　letter。〃
　〃What　about？〃
　〃Well　。。。〃　Vernon　glanced　at　his　brothers　nervously。　〃He　didn't　say。〃
　〃Any　guesses？〃
　〃Not　really。〃
　Barnaby　switched　his　gaze。　〃Philip？〃
　〃I　haven't　the　slightest。〃
　He　swiveled　his　gaze　to　the　other　one；　Tom。　He　found　he　liked　Tom's　face。　It　was　a　no…bullshit　face。　〃So　Tom；　you　want　to　help　me　out　here？〃
　〃I　think　it　was　to　talk　to　us　about　our　inheritance。〃
　〃Inheritance？　How　old　was　your　father？〃
　〃Sixty　。。。〃
　Fenton　leaned　forward　to　interrupt；　his　voice　harsh。　〃Was　he　sick？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃How　sick？〃
　〃He　was　dying　of　cancer；〃　said　Tom　coldly。
　〃I'm　sorry；〃　said　Barnaby；　putting　a　restraining　arm　on　Fenton　as　if　to　stop　him　from　asking　more　tactless　questions。　〃Any　of　you　got　your　copy　of　the　letter？〃
　All　three　produced　the　same　letter；　handwritten；　on　ivory　laid　paper。　Interesting；　Barnaby　thought；　that　each　one　had　his　copy。　Said　something　about　the　importance　they　attached　to　this　meeting。　Barnaby　took　one　and　read：
　
　Dear　Tom；
　I　want　you　to　e　to　my　house　in　Santa　Fe；　on　April　15；　at　exactly　1：00　P。M。；　regarding　a　very　important　matter　affecting　your　future。　I've　asked　Philip　and　Vernon　as　well。　I　have　enclosed　funds　to　pay　for　your　travel。　Please　be　on　time：　one　o'clock　sharp。　Do　your　old　man　this　one　last　courtesy。
　Father
　
　〃Any　chance　of　a　recovery　from　the　cancer；　or　was　he　a　goner？〃　Fenton　asked。
　Philip　stared　at　Fenton　and　then　turned　to　Barnaby。　〃Who　is　this　man？〃
　Barnaby　shot　a　warning　glance　at　Fenton；　who　often　got　out　of　hand。　〃We're　all　on　the　same　side　here；　trying　to　solve　this　crime。〃
　〃As　I　understand　it〃　Philip　said　grudgingly；　〃there　was　no　chance　of　recovery。　Our　father　had　gone　through　radiation　treatments　and　chemotherapy；　but　the　cancer　had　metastasized　and　there　was　no　getting　rid　of　it。　He　declined　further　treatment。〃
　〃I'm　sorry；〃　said　Barnaby；　trying　unsuccessfully　to　summon　up　a　modicum　of　sympathy。　〃Getting　back　to　this　letter；　it　says　something　here　about　funds。　How　much　money　came　with　it？〃
　〃Twelve　hundred　dollars　in　cash；〃　said　Tom。
　〃Cash？　In　what　form？〃
　〃Twelve　one…hundred…dollar　bills。　Sending　cash　like　that　was　typical　of　Father。〃
　Fenton　interrupted　again。　〃How　long　did　he　have　to　live？〃　He　asked　this　question　directly　at　Philip；　thrusting　his　head　forward。　Fenton's　was　an　ugly　head；　very　narrow　and　sharp；　with　thick　eyebrow　ridges；　deep…set　eyes；　a　huge　nose　with　each　nostril　projecting　a　thicket　of　black　nosehairs；　crooked　brown　teeth；　and　a　receding　chin。　He　had　olive　skin；　despite　the　Anglo　name；　Fenton　was　a　Hispano　from　the　town　of　Truchas；　way　back　up　in　the　Sangre　de　Cristo　Mountains。　He　was　scary；　if　you　didn't　know　he　was　the　kindliest　man　alive。
　〃About　six　months。〃
　〃So　he　invited　you　here　for　what？　To　do　a　little　eeny　meeny　meiny　moe　with　his　stuff？〃
　Fenton　could　be　awful　when　he　wanted。　But　the　man　got　results。
　Philip　said　icily；　〃That's　a　charming　way　of　putting　it。　I　suppose　that's　possible。〃
　Barnaby　broke　in　smoothly。　〃But　with　a　collection　like　this；　Philip；　wouldn't　he　have　made　arrang