alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第14节

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ed　as　if　he'd　had　nine　hours　on　a　feather　bed　behind　him。　But　then　Jack…straw　never　showed　fatigue　or　distress　under　any　circumstances：　his　tolerance　to　sleeplessness　and　the　most　exhausting　toil　was　phenomenal。
　
　He　was　the　only　one　on　his　feet；　but　far　from　the　only　one　awake：　of　those　in　the　bunks；　only　Senator　Brewster　was　still　asleep。　The　others　were　facing　into　the　centre　of　the　room；　a　few　propped　up　on　their　elbows：　all　of　them　were　shivering；　and　shivering　violently；　their　faces　blue　and　white　and　pinched　with　the　cold。　Some　were　looking　at　Jackstraw；　wrinkling　their　noses　in　anticipation　of　the　coffee；　the　pungent　smell　of　which　already　filled　the　cabin；　others　were　staring　in　fascination　at　the　sight　of　the　ice　on　the　roof　melting　as　the　temperature　rose；　melting；　dripping　down　to　the　floor　in　a　dozen　different　places　and　there　beginning　to　form　tiny　stalagmites　of　ice；　building　up　perceptibly　before　their　eyes：　the　temperature　on　the　cabin　floor　must　have　been　almost　forty　degrees　lower　than　that　at　the　roof。
　
　〃Good　morning；　Dr　Mason。〃　Marie　LeGarde　tried　to　smile　at　me；　but　it　was　a　pathetic　effort；　and　she　looked　ten　years　older　than　she　had　on　the　previous　night：　she　was　one　of　the　few　with　a　sleeping…bag；　but　even　so　she　must　have　passed　a　miserable　six　hours；　and　there　is　nothing　so　exhausting　to　the　human　body　as　uncontrollable　night…long　shivering；　a　vicious　circle　in　which　the　more　one　shivers　the　tireder　one　bees；　and　the　tireder　the　less　resistance　to　cold　and　hence　the　more　shivering。　For　the　first　time；　I　knew　that　Marie　LeGarde　was　an　old　woman。
　
　〃Good　morning；〃　I　smiled。　〃How　did　you　enjoy　your　first　night　in　your　new　home？〃
　
　〃First　night！〃　Even　in　the　sleeping…bag　her　movements　of　clasping　her　arms　together　and　huddling　her　head　down　between　her　shoulders　were　unmistakable。　〃I　hope　to　heaven　that　it's　the　last　night。　You　run　a　very　chilly　establishment　here；　Dr　Mason。〃
　
　〃I'm　sorry。　Next　time　we'll　keep　watches　and　have　the　stove　on　all　night。〃　I　pointed　to　the　water　splashing　down　to　the　floor。　〃The　place　is　heating　up　already。　You'll　feel　better　when　you　have　some　hot　coffee　inside　you。〃
　
　〃I'll　never　feel　better　again；〃　she　declared　vigorously；　but　the　twinkle　was　back　in　her　eye。　She　turned　to　the　young　German　girl　in　the　next　bunk。　〃And　how　do　you　feel　this　morning；　my　dear？〃
　
　〃Better；　thank　you；　Miss　LeGarde。〃　She　seemed　absurdly　grateful　that　anyone　should　even　bother　to　ask。　〃I　don't　feel　a　thing　now。〃
　
　〃Means　nothing；〃　Miss　LeGarde　assured　her　cheerfully。　〃Neither　do　I。　It's　just　that　we're　both　frozen　stiff。　。　。　。　And　how　did　you　survive　the　night；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg？〃
　
　〃As　you　say；　I　survived。〃　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　smiled　thinly。　〃As　Dr　Mason　observed　last　night；　this　is　not　the　Ritz。。　。　。　That　coffee　smells　delicious。　Bring　me　a　cup　over；　Fleming；　will　you？〃
　
　I　picked　up　one　of　the　cups　Jackstraw　had　poured　out　and　took　it　across　to　the　young　German　girl　who　was　struggling　to　unzip　her　sleeping…bag　with　her　one　good　arm。　Her　embarrassment　and　disfort　were　obvious；　but　I　knew　I'd　no　option；　the　time　to　stop　this　nonsense　was　before　ever　it　had　a　chance　to　start。
　
　〃You　stay　where　you　are；　young　lady；　and　drink　this。〃　She　took　the　cup　reluctantly；　and　I　turned　away。　〃You've　surely　forgotten；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg；　that　Helene　has　a　broken　collar…bone？〃
　
　The　expression　on　her　face　made　it　quite　obvious　that　she　hadn't　forgotten；　but　she　was　no　fool。　The　gossip　columnists　would　murder　her　for　this；　if　they　got　hold　of　it。　In　her　circle；　an　outward　if　meaningless　conformity　to　the　accepted　mores　and　virtues　of　the　day　was　a　sine　qua　non：　the　knife　between　the　ribs　was　permitted；　but　only　to　the　acpaniment　of　the　well…bred　smile。
　
　〃I'm　so　sorry；〃　she　said　sweetly。　〃I'd　quite　forgotten；　of　course。〃　Her　eyes　were　cold　and　hard；　and　I　knew　I　had　an　enemy。　That　didn't　worry　me；　but　I　found　the　very　triviality　of　the　whole　thing　irritating　beyond　measure　when　there　were　so　many　other　and　vastly　more　important　things　to　talk　about。　But　less　than　thirty　seconds　later　we　had　forgotten　all　about　it；　even；　I　am　sure；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　herself。
　
　I　was　just　handing　Marie　LeGarde　a　cup　when　someone　screamed。　It　wasn't　really　loud；　I　suppose；　but　in　that　confined　space　it　had　a　peculiarly　piercing　and　startling　quality。　Marie　LeGarde's　arm　jerked　violently　and　the　scalding　contents　of　the　coffee…cup　were　emptied　over　my　bare　hand。
　
　I　hardly　noticed　the　pain。　It　was　Margaret　Ross；　the　young　stewardess；　who　had　screamed；　and　she　was　now　kneeling；　half　in　and　half　out　of　her　sleeping…bag；　one　rigidly　spread…fingered　hand　stretched　out　at　arm's　length　before　her；　the　other　clasped　over　her　mouth　as　she　stared　down　at　the　figure　lying　near　her　on　the　floor。　I　pushed　her　to　one　side　and　sank　on　to　my　own　knees。
　
　In　that　bitter　cold　it　was　impossible　to　be　any　way　sure；　but　I　felt　reasonably　certain　that　the　young　pilot　had　been　dead　for　several　hours。　I　knelt　there　for　a　long　time；　just　looking　down　at　him；　and　when　I　finally　rose　to　my　feet　I　did　so　like　an　old　man；　a　defeated　old　man；　and　I　felt　as　cold；　almost；　as　the　dead　man　lying　there。　Everyone　was　wide　awake　now；　everyone　staring　at　me；　the　eyes　of　nearly　all　of　them　reflecting　the　superstitious　horror　which　the　presence　of　sudden　and　unexpected　death　brings　to　those　who　are　unaccustomed　to　it。　It　was　Johnny　Zagero　who　broke　the　silence。
　
　〃He's　dead；　isn't　he；　Dr　Mason？〃　His　low　voice　sounded　a　little　husky。　〃That　head　injury…〃　His　voice　trailed　off。
　
　〃Cerebral　haemorrhage；〃　I　said　quietly；　〃as　far　as　I　can　tell。〃
　
　I　lied　to　him。　There　was　no　shadow　of　doubt　in　my　mind　as　to　the　cause　of　death。　Murder。　The　young　boy　had　been　ruthlessly；　cold…bloodedly　murdered：　lying　there　unconscious；　gravely　injured　and　with　his　hands　strapped　helplessly　to　his　sides；　he　had　been　smothered　as　easily；　as　surely；　as　one　might　smother　a　very　little　child。
　
　We　buried　him　out　on　the　ice…cap；　not　fifty　yards　from　the　place　where　he　had　died。　Bringing　his　stiffened　body　out　of　the　hatch　was　a　grisly　job；　but　we　managed　it　and　laid　him　on　the　snow　while　we　sawed　out　a　shallow　grave　for　him　in　the　light　of　one　of　our　torches。　It　was　impossible　to　dig　it　out：　that　frozen　ringing　surface　turned　shovel　blades　as　would　a　bar　of　iron：　even　at　eighteen　inches；　the　impacted　ntvt　of　snow　and　ice　defied　the　serrated　spearpoints　of　our　special　snow　saws。　But　it　was　deep　enough　and　within　a　few　hours　the　eternal　ice…drift　would　have　smoothed　its　blanket　across　the　grave；　and　we　would　never　be　able　to　find　it　again。　The　Reverend　Joseph　Smallwood　murmured　some　sort　of　burial　service　over　the　grave　but　his　teeth　chattered　so　violently　in　the　cold　and　his　voice　was　so　low　and　indistinct　and　hurried　that　I　could　hardly　catch　a　word　of　it。　I　thought　wryly　that　heavenly　forgiveness　for　this　indecent　haste　was　unlikely　to　be　withheld：　by　all　odds　it　must　have　been　by　far　the　coldest　funeral　service　that　Mr　Smallwood　had　ever　conducted。
　
　Back　in　the　cabin；　breakfast　was　a　sketchy　and　silent　affair。　Even　in　the　steadily　rising　warmth；　the　melancholy　gloom　was　an　almost　palpable　blanket　under　the　dripping　ceiling。　Hardly　anybody　said　anything；　hardly　anybody　ate　anything。　Margaret　Ross　ate　nothing；　and　when　she　finally　set　down　her　coffee…cup；　the　contents　had　scarcely　been　touched。
　
　You're　overdoing　it；　my　dear；　I　thought　viciously；　you're　carrying　the　grief…stricken　act　just　a　little　too　far：　a　little　longer；　and　even　the　others　will　start　wondering…and　they　have　no　suspicions　at　all；　you　damned　inhuman　little　murderess。
　
　For　I　had　no　suspicions　either…only　certainty。　There　was　no　doubt　in　my　mind　at　all　but　that　she　had　smothered　the　young　pilot。　She'　was　only　slightly　built…but　then　it　would　have　required　only　slight　strength。　Lashed　to　the　cot　as　he　had　been；　he　wouldn't　even　have　been　able　to　drum　his　heels　as　he　had　died。　I　could　feel　my　flesh　crawl　at　the　very　thought。
　
　She　had　killed　him；　just　as　she　had　broken　the　radio　and　doped　the　passengers。　He　had　been　killed；　obviously；　to　keep　him　from　talking…about　what；　I　couldn't　even　begin　to　guess；　any　more　than　I　could　guess　the　reason　for　the　destruction　of　the　radio；　except　that　she　clearly　did　not　want　the　news　of　the　crash　broadcast　to　the　outer　world。　But　why　in　the　world　destroy　the　radio　in　the　first　place；　surely　she　must　have　known　how　essential　it　was　for　survival？　But　then；　after　all；　how　was　she　even　to　have　guessed　that：　she　might　well　have　thought　that　we　had　big　fast　tractors　that　could　have　whipped　them　down　to　the　coast　in　a　matter　of　a　couple　of　days。　For　that　matter；　she　might　have　thought　she　was　a　great　deal　nearer　the　coast　than　we　really　were　…it　was　impossible；　surely；　that　she　had　genuinely　imagined　that　we　were　in　Iceland。　Or　was　it？
　
　My　thoughts　were　spinning　now　in　an　unbreakable　circle。　I　knew　I　was　getting　nowhere；　couldn't　possibly　get　anywhere　without　some　fresh　information。　As　it　was；　I　was　only　confusing　myself　the　more　with　the　passing　of　every　moment。　I　gave　it　up　then；　promising　myself　that　from　now　on　I　would　watch　her　every　possible　minute　of　the　day。　I　looked　at　her　again；　covertly；　an