p&c.brimstone-第51节

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gridlock；　stretching　from　river　to　river。　Man；　that's　the　voice　of　life　itself。〃　
　Hayward　laughed　as　their　main　courses　arrived　with　a　flurry　of　white…gloved　waiters。　
　〃I　could　definitely　get　used　to　this；〃　said　D'Agosta；　leaning　back　and　tucking　into　his　duck　magret；　following　it　with　a　swig　of　Chardonnay。　
　Hayward　placed　a　sea　scallopétuvée　in　her　mouth　and　savored　it。　She　didn't　believe　she　had　ever　tasted　anything　quite　so　good　in　her　life。　〃You　did　well；　Vinnie；〃　she　said　with　a　smile。　〃You　really　did　well。〃　
　　　
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　D'Agosta　had　never　been　in　the　place　before；　but　everythingabout　it　was　dismally　familiar。　At　least　the　sharp　tang　of　alcohol　and　formaldehyde　and　God　only　knew　what　other　chemicals　helped　chase　away　a　lingering　hangover。　He　and　Laura　Hayward　hadn't　left　the　restaurant　until　11：30　the　night　before。　At　the　sommelier's　suggestion；　he'd　splurged　on　a　demi　bottle　of　dessert　wine…Chateau　d'Yquem　1990；　it　had　cost　him　a　week's　pay　at　least…and　it　had　proved　to　be　the　most　wonderful　wine　he'd　ever　tasted。　The　whole　evening　had　proved　wonderful；　in　fact。　
　What　a　tragedy　that　it　had　to　be　followed　up　by　this。　
　The　mingled　smell　of　formalin；　bodily　fluids；　and　deposition；　the　overly　clean　stainless…steel　surfaces；　the　bank　of　refrigerating　units；　the　sinister…looking　diener　lurking　in　the　background；　the　attending　pathologist…and　of　course　the　cadaver；　star　of　the　show；　lying　in　the　middle　of　the　room　on　an　old　marble　autopsy　table；　illuminated　by　its　very　own　spotlight。　It　had　been　autopsied…disassembled　was　more　like　it…and　a　bunch　of　withered；　sliced…and…diced　organs　lay　arrayed　around　the　corpse；　each　in　its　own　plastic　container：　brain；　heart；　lungs；　liver；　kidneys；　and　a　bunch　of　other　dark　lumps　D'Agosta　did　not　care　to　guess　at。　
　Still；　this　wasn't　as　bad　as　some。　Maybe　it　was　because　the　parade　of　insects　had　e　and　gone　and　the　corpse　had　decayed　to　the　point　where　it　was　as　much　skeleton　as　flesh。　Or　perhaps　it　was　because　the　smell　of　suppuration　had　almost　been　replaced　by　a　smell　of　earth。　Or　maybe…D'Agosta　hoped…maybe　he　was　finally　getting　used　to　it。　Or　was　he？　He　felt　that　familiar　tightening　in　his　throat。　At　least　he'd　been　smart　enough　to　skip　breakfast。　
　He　watched　the　doctor　standing　at　the　head　of　the　corpse；　round　black　glasses　pulled　down　on　his　nose；　thumbing　through　a　clipboard。　He　was　a　laconic　type；　with　salt…and…pepper　hair　and　a　slow；　economical　way　of　talking。　He　looked　irritated。　〃Well；　well；〃　he　said；　flipping　over　papers。　〃Well；　well。〃　
　Pendergast　was　restlessly　circling　the　corpse。　〃The　death　certificate　listed　lung　cancer　as　the　cause　of　death；〃　he　said。　
　〃I　am　aware　of　that；〃　the　doctor　replied。　〃I　was　the　attending　physicianthen　；　and　at　yourrequest　；　I　have　been　hauled　back　here　to　be　the　attending　pathologistnow　。〃　The　man's　voice　was　brittle　with　grievance。　
　〃I　thank　you。〃　
　The　doctor　nodded　tersely；　then　went　back　to　the　clipboard。　〃I've　performed　a　plete　autopsy　on　the　cadaver；　and　the　lab　results　have　e　back。　Now；　what　is　it；　exactly；　that　you　would　like　to　know？〃　
　〃First　things　first。　I'm　assuming　you　confirmed　this　is　indeed　the　body　of　Ranier　Beckmann？〃　
　〃Without　question。　I　checked　dental　records。〃　
　〃Excellent。　Please　proceed。〃　
　〃I'll　summarize　my　original　records　and　diagnosis。〃　The　doctor　flipped　over　some　pages。　〃On　March　4；　1995；　the　patient；　Ranier　Beckmann；　was　brought　to　the　E。R。　by　ambulance。　The　symptoms　indicated　advanced　stages　of　cancer。　Tests　confirmed　an　extensive…stage　small…cell　lung　carcinoma　with　distant　metastases。　Essentially　a　hopeless　case。　The　cancer　had　spread　throughout　the　body；　and　general　organ　failure　was　imminent。　Mr。　Beckmann　never　left　the　hospital　and　died　two　weeks　later。〃　
　〃You're　sure　he　died　in　the　hospital？〃　
　〃Yes。　I　saw　him　every　day　on　my　rounds　until　he　died。〃　
　〃And　your　recollection；　going　back　over　a　decade；　is　still　clear？〃　
　〃Absolutely。〃　The　doctor　stared　at　Pendergast　over　the　tops　of　his　glasses。　
　〃Proceed。〃　
　〃I　conducted　this　autopsy　in　two　stages。　The　first　was　to　test　my　original　determination　of　cause　of　death。　There　had　been　no　autopsy。　Standard　procedure。　The　cause　of　death　was　evident；　there　was　no　family　request；　and　no　suspicion　of　foul　play。　The　state　obviously　doesn't　pay　for　an　autopsy　just　for　the　hell　of　it。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　
　〃The　second　stage　of　my　autopsy；　as　per　your　request；　was　to　identify　any　unusual　pathologies；　conditions；　wounds；　toxins；　or　other　irregularities　associated　with　the　body。〃　
　〃And　the　results？〃　
　〃I　confirmed　Beckmann　died　of　general　organ　failure　associated　with　cancer。〃　
　Pendergast　quickly　fixed　his　silvery　eyes　again　on　the　doctor。　He　said　nothing：　the　skeptical　look　said　it　all。　
　The　doctor　returned　the　look　steadily。　Then　he　continued；　voice　calm。　〃The　primary　was　a　tumor　in　his　left　lung　the　size　of　a　grapefruit。　There　were　gross　secondary　metastatic　tumors　in　the　kidneys；　liver；　and　brain。　The　only　surprising　thing　about　this　man's　death　is　that　he　hadn't　showed　up　in　the　emergency　room　earlier。　He　must　have　been　in　tremendous　pain；　barely　able　to　function。〃　
　〃Go　on；〃　Pendergast　said　in　a　low　voice。　
　〃Aside　from　the　cancer；　the　patient　showed　advanced　cirrhosis　of　the　liver；　heart　disease；　and　a　suite　of　other　chronic；　but　not　yet　acute；　symptoms　associated　with　alcoholism　and　poor　nutrition。〃　
　〃And？〃　
　〃That's　all。　No　toxins　or　drugs　present　in　the　blood　or　tissues。　No　unusual　wounds　or　pathologies；　at　least　none　detectable　after　embalming　and　almost　ten　years　in　the　ground。〃　
　〃No　sign　of　heat？〃　
　〃Heat？　What　do　you　mean？〃　
　〃No　indication　that　the　body　had　experienced　the　perimortem　application　of　heat？〃　
　〃Absolutely　not。　Heat　would　have　caused　a　host　of　obvious　cell　changes。　I've　looked　at　forty；　maybe　fifty　sections　of　tissue　from　this　cadaver；　and　not　one　showed　changes　associated　with　heat。　What　an　extraordinary　question；　Mr。　Pendergast。〃　
　Pendergast　spoke　again；　his　voice　still　low。　〃Small…cell　lung　cancer　is　caused　almost　exclusively　by　smoking。　Am　I　correct；　Doctor？〃　
　〃You　are　correct。〃　
　〃That　he　died　of　cancer　is　beyond　a　reasonable　doubt；　then；　Doctor？〃　Pendergast　allowed　a　skeptical　tone　to　tinge　his　voice。　
　Exasperated；　the　pathologist　reached　down；　grabbed　two　halves　of　a　shriveled　brown　lump；　and　shoved　them　in　Pendergast's　face。　〃There　it　is；　Mr。　Pendergast。　If　you　don't　believe　me；　believethis　。　Take　it。　Feel　the　malignancy　of　this　tumor。　As　sure　as　I'm　standing　here；that's　what　killed　Beckmann。〃　
　It　was　a　long；　silent　walk　back　to　the　car。　Pendergast　slipped　behind　the　wheel…today　he'd　driven　himself　to　Yonkers…and　they　exited　the　parking　lot。　As　they　left　the　gray　huddle　of　downtown　behind；　Pendergast　spoke　at　last。　
　〃Beckmann　spoke　to　us　quite　eloquently；　wouldn't　you　say；　Vincent？〃　
　〃Yeah。　And　he　stank；　too。〃　
　〃What　he　said；　however；　was…I　must　confess…something　of　a　surprise。　I　shall　have　to　write　the　good　doctor　a　letter　of　thanks。〃　He　swung　the　wheel　sharply；　and　the　Rolls　turned　onto　Executive　Boulevard；　passing　the　on…ramp　for　the　Saw　Mill　River　Parkway。　
　D'Agosta　looked　over　in　surprise。　〃Aren't　we　heading　back　to　New　York　City？〃　
　Pendergast　shook　his　head。　〃Jeremy　Grove　died　exactly　two　weeks　ago。　Cutforth；　one　week　ago。　We　came　to　Yonkers　to　get　some　answers。　I'm　not　leaving　until　we　have　them。〃　
　　　
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　The　bus　inched　through　a　long；　white…tiled　tunnel　in　stop…and…go　traffic　and　emerged　from　an　underpass；　a　long　ramp　amidst　steel　girders　in　semidarkness。　
　New　York　City；thought　the　Reverend　Wayne　P。　Buck。　
　Beyond　the　web　of　steel；　he　could　see　limpid　sunlight；　sooty　tenements；　a　brief　glimpse　of　skyscrapers。　The　bus　lurched　back　into　darkness；　the　brakes　chuffing　as　the　line　of　traffic　stopped　again。　
　Buck　felt　an　indescribable　mix　of　emotions：　excitement；　fear；　destiny；　a　sense　of　confronting　the　unknown。　It　was　the　same　thing　he　had　felt　a　couple　of　years　ago；　the　day　he'd　been　released　from　prison　after　serving　nine　years　for　murder　two。　It　had　been　a　long；　slow　slide　for　Buck：　delinquency；　failed　jobs；　booze；　stealing　cars；　bank　robbery…and　then　the　fateful　day　when　everything　went　wrong　and　he'd　ended　up　shooting　a　convenience　store　clerk。　Killing　a　poor；　innocent　man。　As　the　bus　crept　forward　again；　his　mind　went　back　over　the　arrest；　trial；　sentence　of　twenty…five　to　life；　the　manacled　walk　into　the　bowels　of　the　prison。　A　period　of　darkness；　best　forgotten。　
　And　then；　conversion。　Born　again　in　prison。　Just　as　Jesus　raised　up　the　whore；　Mary　Magdalen；　He　raised　up　the　alcoholic；　the　murderer；　the　man　who　had　been　cast　away　by　all　others；　even　his　own　family。　
　After　his　salvation；　Buck　began　reading　the　Bible：　again　and　again；　cover…to…cover；　Old　Testament　and　New。　He　started　preaching　a　little；　a　few　words　here；　a　helping　hand　there。　He　formed　a　study　group。　Gradually；　he'd　built　up　the　respect　and　trust　of　the　prisoners　who　had　ears　for　the　Good　Word。　He　was　soon　spending　most　of　his　time　assisting　in　the　salvation　of　others。　That；　and　playing　chess。　There　wasn't　much　else　to　do：　magazines　were　showcases　of　materialism；　television　was　worse；　and　books　other　than　the　Bible　seemed　full　o