p&c.brimstone-第81节

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from　NYU。　Since　I　believe　Dr。　Wentworth　is　an　assistant　professor　at　the　College　of　Staten　Island…CUNY；　it's　understandable　that　we　never　met　academically。〃　
　In　the　unfortable　silence；　it　seemed　to　Hayward　that　Rocker　might　even　be　suppressing　a　little　smile　of　his　own。　
　〃I　stand　by　my　earlier　ment；〃　Wentworth　said　acidly。　
　Rocker　ignored　him；　still　speaking　to　Hayward。　〃And　that's　it？〃　
　〃That's　it。〃　
　〃You　better　have　a　SWAT　team　standing　by　to　extract　Captain　Hayward；　along　with　paramedics；　for　when　the　inevitable　occurs；〃　said　Grable。　
　Rocker　looked　down　at　his　hands；　his　brow　creased。　Then　he　raised　his　head　again。　〃Sunday　is　the　day　after　tomorrow。　I'd　already　decided　on　using　the　relative　calm　to　go　in　with　overwhelming　force　and　arrest　this　man。　But　I　hate　to　take　a　step　like　that　until　all　avenues　have　been　tried。　I'm　inclined　to　let　Captain　Hayward　have　a　shot　at　it。　If　she　can　get　Buck　out　of　there　without　tear　gas　and　water　cannon；　I'm　all　for　it。〃　He　turned　to　Hayward。　〃You　do　your　thing　at　noon。　If　it　doesn't　work；　we　move　in；　as　scheduled。〃　
　〃Thank　you；　sir。〃　
　A　beat。　〃Hayward；　are　yousure　this　plan　of　yours　is　going　to　work？〃　
　〃No；　sir。〃　
　Rocker　smiled。　〃That's　all　I　wanted　to　hear…a　little　goddamned　humility　for　a　change。〃　His　eyes　raked　the　rest　of　them；　then　returned　to　Hayward。　〃Go　to　it；　Captain。〃　
　　　
　72　
　
　D'Agosta　looked　out　at　the　vague　outlines　of　the　island　looming　off　the　ferry's　port　bow；　rising　steep　and　blue　from　the　sea；　shimmering　slightly　in　the　midmorning　light。　Capraia：　outermost　of　the　Tuscan　islands；　a　mountaintop　lost　in　the　wide　ocean。　It　looked　unreal；　almost　fairylike。　The　Toremar　car　ferry　chiseled　its　way　forward；　squat　steel　bows　stubbornly　parting　the　turquoise　water　as　it　plowed　toward　its　destination。　
　Pendergast　stood　beside　D'Agosta；　sea　breeze　ruffling　his　blond　hair；　his　finely　cut　features　like　alabaster　in　the　glare　of　the　sun。　〃A　most　interesting　island；　Vincent；〃　he　was　saying。　〃Once　a　prison　for　the　most　dangerous　and　intelligent　criminals　in　Italy…Mafia　capos　and　serial　escapees。　The　prison　closed　in　the　mid…sixties；　and　now　most　of　the　island　is　a　national　park。〃　
　〃Strange　place　to　live。〃　
　〃It　is　actually　the　most　charming　of　all　the　Tuscan　islands。　There　is　a　small　port　and　a　tiny　village　on　a　bluff；　connected　by　the　island's　only　road；　which　is　all　of　half　a　mile　in　length。　There's　been　no　ugly　development；　thanks　to　the　fact　that　the　island　doesn't　have　any　beaches。〃　
　〃What's　the　woman's　name　again？〃　
　〃Her　name　is　Viola　Maskelene。　Lady　Viola　Maskelene。　I　couldn't　find　out　much　about　her　on　short　notice…she's　a　private　person。　It　seems　she　spends　her　summers　on　the　island；　leaving　at　the　end　of　October。　Travels　the　rest　of　the　year；　or　so　I've　been　informed。〃　
　〃You　sure　she's　home？〃　
　〃No。　But　I　prefer　to　take　the　chance　of　surprising　our　quarry。〃　
　〃Quarry？〃　
　〃In　an　investigative　sense。　We're　dealing　with　a　sophisticated　and　well…traveled　Englishwoman。　As　the　only　great…grandchild　of　Toscanelli's　greatest　love；　she　is　in　the　best　position　to　know　the　family　secrets。〃　
　〃She　might　be　a　tough　nut　to　crack。〃　
　〃Quite　possibly。　Hence　the　surprise　approach。〃　
　〃How　old　is　she？〃　
　〃I　assume　middle…aged；　if　my　calculations　are　correct。〃　
　D'Agosta　glanced　at　him。　〃So　what's　the　family　story？〃　
　〃It　was　one　of　those　torrid　nineteenth…century　affairs　one　reads　about。　The　stuff　of　opera。　Viola　Maskelene's　great…grandmother；　a　famous　Victorian　beauty；　married　the　Duke　of　Cumberland；　thirty　years　her　senior　and　as　cold　and　correct　a　man　as　you　could　find。　Toscanelli　seduced　her　only　a　few　months　after　her　marriage；　and　they　carried　on　a　legendary　affair。　An　illegitimate　daughter　came　of　the　union；　and　the　poor　duchess　died　in　childbirth。　That　child　was　Lady　Maskelene's　grandmother。〃　
　〃What　did　the　duke　have　to　say　about　all　that？〃　
　〃He　may　have　been　cold；　but　he　also　seems　to　have　been　a　rather　decent　sort。　After　his　wife's　death；　he　took　steps　to　legally　adopt　the　child。　The　greater　titles　and　estates　were　entailed　away；　but　the　daughter　inherited　a　lesser　title　and　some　land　in　Cornwall。〃　
　The　ferry　throbbed　beneath　their　feet；　and　the　island　seemed　to　gain　weight　and　substance　as　they　approached。　As　they　stood　silently；　Pendergast　drew　the　test　tube　out　of　his　pocket。　He　held　it　up；　the　melted　droplets　taken　from　Vanni's　corpse　the　night　before　glittering　in　the　sun。　〃We　haven't　spoken　yet　about　these。〃　
　〃Yeah。　But　I've　been　thinking　about　them。〃　
　〃So　have　I。　Perhaps；　Vincent；　the　time　has　e　at　last　for　each　of　us　to　turn　over　a　card。〃　
　〃You　first。〃　
　Pendergast　smiled　faintly　and　held　up　a　finger。　〃Never。　As　the　officer　in　charge；　I　reserve　the　right　to　call　your　hand。〃　
　〃Pulling　rank　on　me？〃　
　〃Precisely。〃　
　〃Well；　I'd　say　those　drops　came　from　some　device　which　malfunctioned；　spraying　molten　metal　into　Vanni　and　burning　him　terribly。〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　〃What　kind　of　device？〃　
　〃Some　device　meant　to　torch　Vanni。　Same　device　that　killed　the　others。　But　in　Vanni's　case；　it　didn't　seem　to　work；　so　he　had　to　be　shot　afterwards。〃　
　〃Bravo。〃　
　〃Your　theory？〃　
　〃I　reached　the　same　conclusions。　Vanni　was　an　early　victim…perhaps　a　test　subject…of　a　highly　specialized　killing　device。　It　appears　we　are　dealing　with　a　flesh…and…blood　assassin；　after　all。〃　
　Now　the　ferry　was　slipping　past　surf…scoured　volcanic　cliffs　and　into　a　small　harbor。　A　row　of　crumbling　houses；　stuccoed　yellow　and　red；　crowded　the　quay；　hillsides　rising　steeply　behind　them。　The　ferry　maneuvered　into　port；　and　a　single　car　and　a　scattering　of　passengers　got　off。　Almost　before　D'Agosta's　feet　were　on　firm　ground；　it　was　backing　out　again　and　heading　to　its　next　stop；　the　island　of　Elba。　
　〃We　have　four　hours　before　the　ferry　returns　on　its　homeward　swing。〃　Pendergast　pulled　out　a　little　piece　of　paper；　scrutinized　it。　〃Lady　Viola　Maskelene；　Via　Saracino；　19。　Let's　hope　we　findla　signorina　at　home。〃　
　He　set　off　down　the　quay　toward　a　bus　stop；　D'Agosta　at　his　side。　Within　moments；　an　old　orange　bus　wheezed　into　view；　struggled　to　turn　around　in　the　lone　narrow　street；　then　opened　its　doors。　They　boarded；　the　doors　creaked　shut；　and　the　bus　began　groaning　and　wheezing　its　way　back　up　the　frighteningly　steep　slope　that　seemed　to　rise　straight　out　of　the　foaming　sea。　
　In　five　minutes；　they　were　in　the　village　at　the　far　end　of　the　road。　The　doors　creaked　open　again　and　they　descended。　An　ancient　peach…colored　church　sat　on　one　side；　a　tobacconist　on　the　other。　Cobbled　lanes　ran　off　at　odd　angles；　too　narrow　to　admit　a　car。　A　giant；　ruined　castle；　pletely　overgrown　with　prickly　pears；　dominated　the　headland　before　them。　Behind　the　village　mounted　a　series　of　empty；　scrub…covered　mountains。　
　〃Charming；〃　said　Pendergast。　He　pointed　at　a　street　sign；　carved　on　an　old　marble　plaque　and　cemented　into　the　wall　of　a　building；　readingVia　Saracino。　〃This　way；　Sergeant。〃　
　They　walked　down　a　lane　between　small　whitewashed　houses；　the　numbers　mounting　slowly。　Soon　the　town　ended　and　the　lane　turned　to　dirt；　bounded　by　stone　walls　enclosing　garden　plots　of　small　lemon　trees　and　microscopic　vineyards。　The　air　carried　the　scent　of　citrus。　The　lane　made　a　sharp　curve；　and　there…at　the　edge　of　the　cliff；　all　by　itself…stood　a　neat　stone　house　shaded　by　bougainvillea；　overlooking　the　blue　immensity　of　the　Mediterranean。　
　Pendergast　slipped　down　the　path；　entered　the　patio；　and　knocked　on　the　door。　
　Silence。　
　〃C'è　nessuno？〃he　called。　
　The　wind　sighed　through　the　rosemary　bushes；　carrying　the　fragrance　of　the　sea　with　it。　
　D'Agosta　looked　around。　〃There's　someone　over　there；〃　he　said。　〃A　man；　digging。〃　He　nodded　toward　a　small；　terraced　vineyard　a　hundred　yards　away；　where　a　figure　was　turning　earth　with　a　spade。　The　man　was　wearing　a　battered　straw　hat；　old　canvas　pants；　and　a　rough　shirt　unbuttoned　partway　down　the　front。　Seeing　them；　the　person　straightened　up。　
　〃Correction：　a　woman　digging。〃　Pendergast　set　off　down　the　path　with　a　vigorous　step。　Reaching　the　vineyard；　they　stepped　gingerly　through　clods　of　freshly　turned　earth。　The　woman　watched　them　approach；　leaning　on　her　shovel。　
　Pendergast　paused　to　offer　the　woman　his　hand；　giving　his　usual　little　half…bow。　In　response；　she　removed　her　straw　hat；　shook　out　a　mass　of　dark　glossy　hair；　and　took　the　hand。　
　D'Agosta　froze。This　is　no　middle…aged　woman。　
　She　was　stunningly　beautiful；　tall；　athletic；　and　slender；　with　spirited　hazel　eyes；　high　cheekbones；　skin　tanned　and　freckled　from　the　sun；　nose　still　flaring　from　the　effort　of　digging。　
　After　a　moment；　he　realized　Pendergast；　after　having　bowed；　had　straightened　again　but　seemed　rooted　to　the　spot；　still　holding　her　hand；　saying　nothing　but　looking　into　her　eyes。　The　woman　appeared　to　be　doing　the　same。　There　was　a　moment　of　utter　stillness。　D'Agosta　wondered　if　they　had　known　each　other　before…it　almost　seemed　as　if　they　recognized　each　other。　
　〃I　am　Aloysius　Pendergast；〃　Pendergast　said　after　a　long　moment。　
　〃I'm　Viola　Maskelene；〃　she　replied　in　a　rich；　warm　English　accent。　
　As　they　released　each　other's　hand；　D'Agosta　realized　Pendergast　had　uncharacteristically　forgotten