cw.blackalibi-第27节

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n't　lose　it　sitting　with　La　Bruja；　her　hands　were　on　the　cards；　didn't　e　near　me。　It　was　when　I　ran　from　that　accursed　car；　then　and　then　only。〃
　　She　knew；　fortunately；　just　about　where　that　was。　He'd　e　up　to　her　just　past　Retiro；　and　she'd　run　all　the　rest　of　the　block；　up　to　the　next　crossing　at　San　Marco。　It　was　somewhere　along　that　stretch；　on　the　right…hand　side　of　Justicia。
　　Here。　It　began　from　here　on。　She　slackened；　began　a　pendulum…like　advance　along　the　nightblue　shadowed　sidewalk；　swinging　from　curbing　to　building　base；　from　building　base　to　curbing；　head　rigidly　inclined。　Every　unevenness；　every　slight　flaw　in　the　paving　blocks；　that　cast　a　deeper　shadow　than　the　rest　of　the　surface；　she　examined　by　bending　still　further　down　over；　or　even　testing　with　the　tips　of　her　fingers。
　　Minutes　went　by。　The　city　slept；　the　night　brooded；　the　broomlike　shuffle　of　her　feet；　back　and　forth；　and　forth　and　back；　was　the　only　sound　there　was。
　　The　curbing　veered　in　suddenly；　thrust　a　drop　under　her　feet。　She　looked　up　with　aching；　stiff　neck。　Already？　Had　she　reached　the　other　end　already？　Yes；　here；　here　was　where　the　car　had　stopped；　and　played　its　lights　upon　her。
　　Maybe　he'd　found　it。　But　he　hadn't　e　after　her。　He'd　stood　there　by　the　car　a　minute；　and　then　gotten　in　and　driven　off。　And　at　this　hour　hardly　anyone　was　about；　hardly　anyone　was　likely　to　have　passed　by　here　since。　It　must　be　still　someplace　around；　it　must　be。　Until　daylight；　until　the　first　early　risers　were　on　the　streets；　it　would　still　lie　where　it　had　fallen。　She　wouldn't　desist；　she　wouldn't　stop　booking　until　she'd　found　it。
　　She'd　made　one　plete　round　trip　to　the　San　Marco　corner　and　back　again；　when　hope　finally　gave　up　the　ghost。　When　she　finally　had　to　admit　that　it　was　useless　booking　any　more；　that　if　it　had　been　there　she　would　already　have　found　it　two　or　three　times　over。　She　wavered　helplessly　about　there　on　the　sidewalk　awhile；　crumbling　inside。　Then　the　tears　came。　Hot；　bitter　tears；　of　a　wrenching　intensity　that　those　who　lived　safely　could　never　know。
　　She　went　over　to　the　wall；　there　close　by　the　corner；　and　pressed　her　face　against　it；　under　the　overhanging　splint　of　her　arm；　heels　out　behind　her　and　clear　of　the　ground；　and　with　her　other　hand　she　beat　the　counterpoint　to　her　strangled　sobs　against　the　heartless；　unyielding；　prickling　stones。
　　The　whole　night　for　nothing。　All　those　smiles；　all　that　magnetic　current；　all　those　kilowatts　of　personality　consumed；　with　nothing　to　show　for　them。
　　The　sobs　stopped　first。　Then　the　intolerable　anguished　pounding　of　her　palm　slowed　to　little　pats；　died　away　at　last。　She　tried　to　console　herself　as　best　she　could。　It　had　been　something　for　nothing。　Now　she　was　no　worse　off；　at　least；　than　she　had　been　before　she　had　received　it。　It　wouldn't　work。　〃It　was　mine；〃　she　said　smotheredly　against　the　wall。　〃I　had　it。　Why　should　it　be　taken　away　from　me　again？〃
　　She　flung　her　shoulder　around　in　defiance；　turned　at　last　to　face　the　other　way；　still　propped　against　the　wall。　She　stared　in　glowering　dullness　out　at　nothing。　The　night　owed　her　a　return。　She'd　get　a　little　something　back；　no　matter　how　fractional　a　part　of　her　boss。　She'd　stand　here　until　she　did。　She　wouldn't　go　home　empty…handed。　The　fatal　middle…class　virtue　of　thrift。　Something　to　show　for　it；　if　it　was　only　a　half…peso　piece；　only　a　cadged　cigarette。　She　wouldn't　leave　this　spot　until　she　did。
　　Justicia　had　been　cut　ruthlessly　through　a　decrepit；　labyrinthine　part　of　the　town；　on　the　bias。　All　the　mobdering　little　lanes　and　abbeys　that　opened　out　upon　it；　opened　as　a　result　not　rectangularly　but　sbantwise。　At　the　corner　where　she　stood；　San　Marco；　running　in　to　join　the　newer　thoroughfare；　made　an　angle　so　acute　it　was　little　better　than　a　fifteen…degree　incision。　The　corner　of　this　wall　she　lounged　against　was　needle…pointed；　San　Marco　was；　not　around　the　corner　from　her；　but　directly　behind　her　back；　on　the　other　side　of　the　double…flanged　well。
　　Now　as　she　stood　there　in　the　blue　hour；　in　the　death　watch　of　the　night；　defiantly　determined　Upon　her　repense。　the　soft　crush　of　a　foot　upon　loose…packed　earth；　upon　imperfectly　bedded　small　stones；　reached　her　from　around　this　projection；　from　behind　her　own　back。　Somebody'　was　ing　along　there；　along　the　unpaved　margin　of　San　Marco；　about　to　turn　this　razor　corner　and　happen　upon　her。
　　Somebody；　and　no　matter　who　it　was；　she　wanted　something　of　the　night；　she　would　not　let　him　by　without　exacting　tribute；　to　repair　her　loss　and　assuage　her　shattered　self…esteem。　She　dried　her　eyes　by　stabbing　a　knuckle　into　them；　in　quick　succession。　She　opened　her　bag　and　started　to　redden　her　mouth　with　flurried　urgency；　the　smile　of　gamin　friendliness　with　which　she　intended　to　halt　him　in　another　moment　already　turning　up　its　corners　even　as　she　did　so；　for　the　loose　top　layer　of　tiny　stones　and　gravel　was　already　shifting　in　sight　of　her；　out　there　beyond　the　knifelike　corner；　like　sluggish　water　riding　outwards　from　an　impact　still　unseen；　the　cause　of　it　still　hidden　for　a　moment　more。
　　In　another　instant　they　would　be　face　to　face；　eye　to　eye。　She　could　already　have　reached　her　hand　explorativeby　backward　around　the　stone　screen　and　touched　him　as　he　sidled　up。
　　The　lipstick　dipped。　Her　smile　was　ready　now。　She　turned　it　up　toward　the　night；　eyes　half　lidded　with　expectancy。
　　
　　
　　They　had　taken　her　away　by　the　time　Manning　arrived；　at　seven　that　same　morning；　in　a　taxi。　The　flatiron　corner　of　San　Marco　and　Justicia　looked　dainty　in　early…morning　water　colors：　peach　pink　and　pastel　blue。　Pink　sunlight　in　the　faces　of　the　men　standing　around；　and　bight…blue　shadows　on　the　ground　behind　them。
　　There　was　one　other　color；　on　the　wall　on　the　Justicia　side：　as　though　somebody　had　been　careless　with　some　kind　of　overripe　fruit。
　　There　weren't　many　people　around。　A　country　Indian　on　his　way　to　early　market　with　a　basket　of　persimmons　on　his　head　seemed　to　have　bee　permanently　rooted　to　one　particular　spot　on　his　way　past；　stood　there　mouth　agape　in　inprehension；　poised　to　go　on　but　forgetting　to。　On　the　opposite　sidewalk　a　street　sweeper　also　stood　looking　on；　resting　on　his　broom　of　twigs。　Occasionally　he　would　make　a　couple　of　passes　with　it；　then　stop　and　look　on　some　more。　On　a　third…floor　balcony　on　that　same　side　a　plump　woman　had　e　out　to　watch；　but　had　brought　her　hairbrush　with　her　and　continued　stroking　her　bong　black　glossy　hair　while　she　did　so。　That　was　about　all；　the　rest　were　all　those　whose　business　it　was　to　be　there。
　　Manning　had　not　only　not　been　informed　this　time；　but　could　even　tell　he　was　somewhat　persona　non　grata　when　he　got　out　of　the　cab　and　joined　them。　Robles　glanced　up；　greeted　him　uncordially　with：　〃You　again？　We　have　work　to　do　here。　Please；　no　more　suggestions　from　the　sidelines；　if　you　don't　mind！〃　And　then　he　added；　〃What　are　you；　a　mind　reader？　How　did　you　know？〃
　　〃It's　all　over　town　already。　The　milkman　told　the　mozo　that　brings　my　morning　coffee　to　me　from　across　the　street；　and　the　mozo　told　me。　Who　was　it　this　time？〃
　　〃An　habituй　of　the　cafйs　known　as　Clo…Clo　A　lady　of　the　evening；　poor　creature。　Mendez　here　knew　her。　Didn't　you；　Mendez？〃
　　Mendez　dropped　his　eyelids　disclaimingly。　〃Only　in　the　line　of　duty。〃
　　Manning　had　caught　sight　of　several　small　objects　awaiting　removal；　which　had　been　placed；　meanwhile；　on　a　sheet　of　newspaper　spread　out　on　top　of　an　opened　campstool。　〃Where　does　the　lipstick　e　in？〃　he　asked。
　　〃It　was　lying　on　the　ground　close　beside　her　body。　It　fell　out　of　her　handbag；　I　suppose；　in　the　course　of　the　death　struggle。〃
　　Manning　took　a　while。　Then　finally　he　asked；　〃WThat　else　fell　out？〃
　　〃Nothing　else　fell　out。〃
　　〃Was　the　bag　open　or　closed　when　it　was　found？〃
　　Robles　was　fair　enough…and　incautious　enough…to　hold　one　finger　up　for　the　benefit　of　those　around　him。　〃Ah。　He　has　made　a　good　point　there；　the　American。　The　bag　was　still　closed　when　we　found　it。　Therefore；　it　is　true　that　the　lipstick　could　not　have　fallen　out；　she　must　have　removed　it　herself。〃　He　waved　his　hand　blandly。　〃However；　it　is　just　a　detail；　it　has　no　bearing　on　the　matter　one　way　or　the　other。〃
　　〃Oh　no；　no　bearing　at　all；〃　agreed　Manning　treacherously。　〃　Except　to　show　that　it　was　a　man　who　waylaid　her　here　on　this　corner。　She　would　not　have　rouged　her　lips　for　a　quadruped；　I　believe？〃
　　Robles　gave　his　arms　a　slight　flip　at　his　sides；　said　in　an　heroically　restrained　voice　to　those　immediately　around　him；　but　excluding　Manning　as　though　he　weren't　there：　〃That　again。　What　did　I　do　to　deserve　this　hornet　buzzing　in　my　ears？　Mendez。　Gipriano。　Stand　one　on　each　side　of　him。　Each　of　you　take　an　arm。　Yes；　like　that。　Now　walk　him　over　to　that　cab　over　there；　put　him　in　it；　and　see　that　it　takes　him　back　wherever　it　is　he　came　from。〃
　　Robles　wasn't　kidding。　He　was　a　little　too　white　at　the　corners　of　the　eyes　and　mouth　to　have　been　anything　but　serious。　It　might　have　been；　partly；　the　early　hour　of　the　day。
　　Neither；　for　that　matter；　was　Manning。　〃Your　theory　must　be　pretty　shaky；〃　he　said　witheringly；　〃if　it　can't　stand　a　little　honest　difference　of　opinion。