alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第43节

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rnative　solution。
　
　〃You…you　inhuman　monster！〃　Senator　Brewster's　voice　was　shaking　with　fear　or　anger　or　both。　〃You　were　going　to　tie　us　up　and　butcher　us　like…like…〃　Words　failed　him　for　a　moment；　then　he　whispered：　〃You　must　be　mad；　Smallwood；　stark　raving　mad。〃
　
　〃He's　not　in　the　slightest；〃　Zagero　said　quietly。　〃Not　mad。　Just　bad。　But　it's　kind　of　hard　to　tell　the　difference　at　times。　Figured　out　our　next　jolly　little　scheme；　Smallwood？〃
　
　〃Yes。　As　Dr　Mason　says；　we　can't　possibly　dispose　of　all　of　you　inside　a　couple　of　seconds；　which　is　all　the　time　it　would　take　for　one…probably　more…of　you　to　reach　the　cover　of　the　snow　and　darkness。〃　He　nodded　towards　the　tractor　sled；　lifted　his　high　collar　against　the　snow　and　biting　wind。　〃I　think　you　had　better　ride　a　little　way　with　us。〃
　
　And　ride　with　them　we　did　for　the　thirty　longest　miles　I　have　ever　driven；　for　nine　hours　that　had　no　end。　A　relatively　short　distance；　but　this　eternity　of　time　to　cover　it：　partly　because　of　the　sastrugi；　partly　because　of　the　increasingly　long　stretches　of　soft　snow；　but　mainly　because　of　the　weather；　which　was　deteriorating　rapidly。　The　wind　had　now　risen　to　something　better　than　thirty　miles　an　hour；　it　carried　with　it　a　blinding　wall　of　flying　ice…filled　drift；　and；　even　though　it　was　directly　behind　us；　it　made　things　troublesome　for　the　driver。　For　all　the　others　except　Smallwood　it　made　the　conditions　intolerable：　had　the　temperature　been　what　it　was　only　twenty…four　hours　previously；　none　of　us；　I　am　sure；　would　have　survived　that　trip。
　
　I　would　have　thought　that　with　either　Smallwood　or　Corazzini　driving　and　the　other　navigating　from　the　dog…sled　we　would　have　had　a　chance；　slender　though　it　might　be；　to　overpower　them　or　at　least　make　good　our　escape。　But　Smallwood　never　offered　even　a　shadow　of　a　chance　of　either。　Corazzini　drove　all　the　time；　with　the　radio　direction　finder　headphones　clamped　to　his　ears；　so　that　pass　navigation　became　an　inaccurate　superfluity。　Smallwood　sat　alone　in　the　back　of　the　tractor　cabin；　his　gun　unwaveringly　trained　on　the　rest　of　us　who　were　crammed　aboard　the　big　tractor　sled；　ten　feet　to　the　rear　of　him：　when　the　snow　eventually　became　too　heavy　he　stopped　the　tractor；　detached　the　portable　searchlight　and　mounted　it；　facing　aft；　in　the　rear　of　the　tractor　cabin；　this　had　the　double　advantage　of　illuminating　us　so　that　he　could　clearly　see　us　even　through　the　drift　and　making　certain　that　none　of　us　tried　to　drop　off　the　sled；　and　of　blinding　us　so　that　we　were　quite　unable　to　see　what　he　was　doing；　even　to　see　whether　he　was　watching　us　at　all。　It　was　frustrating；　maddening。　And；　for　good　measure　and　to　prevent　any　desperate　attempt　at　escape　in　the　occasionally　blinding　flurries　of　snow；　he　brought　Margaret　and　Helene　up　into　the　cabin　and　bound　their　hands：　they　were　the　surety　for　our　good　conduct。
　
　That　left　eight　of　us　on　the　tractor　sled；　Theodore　Mahler　and　Marie　LeGarde　stretched　out　in　the　middle；　three　of　us　sitting　on　each　side。　Almost　immediately　after　we　had　moved　off　and　pulled　a　pair　of　tarpaulins　over　ourselves　for　what　meagre　shelter　they　could　afford；　Jackstraw　leaned　across　and　tapped　me　on　the　shoulder　with　something　held　in　his　hand。　I　reached　up　and　took　it　from　him。
　
　〃Corazzini's　wallet；1　he　said　softly。　For　all　the　chance　of　his　being　overheard　by　either　Smallwood　or　Corazzini　above　the　roar　of　the　engine　and　the　voice　of　the　gale；　he　could　have　shouted　out　the　words。　〃Fell　from　his　pocket　when　Zagero　knocked　him　down。　He　didn't　see　it　go；　but　I　did…sat　on　top　of　it　while　Smallwood　told　us　to　squat　in　the　snow。〃
　
　I　stripped　off　my　gloves；　opened　the　wallet　and　examined　its　contents　in　the　light　of　the　torch　Jackstraw　had　also　passed　across…a　torch　with　the　beam　carefully　hooded　and　screened　to　prevent　the　slightest　chink　of　light　escaping　from　under　the　tarpaulin：　at　this　time；　Smallwood　had　not　yet　switched　on　the　searchlight。
　
　The　wallet　provided　us　with　that　last　proof　of　the　thoroughness；　the　meticulous　care　with　which　these　two　men　had　provided　themselves　with　false　but　utterly　convincing　identities：　I　knew　that　whatever　Corazzini's　name　was　it　wasn't　the　one　he　had　given　himself；　but；　had　I　not　known；　the　'N。C。〃　stamped　on　the　hand…tooled　morocco；　the　visiting　cards　with　the　inscribed　'Nicholas　Corazzini'　above　the　name　and　address　of　the　Indiana　head　office　of　the　Global　Tractor　pany；　and　the　leather…backed　fold　of　American　Express　cheques；　each　one　already　signed　'N。　R。　Corazzini'　in　its　top　left…hand　corner；　would　have　carried　plete　conviction。
　
　And；　too　late；　the　wallet　also　presented　us；　obliquely　but　beyond　all　doubt；　with　the　reason　for　many　things；　ranging　from　the　purpose　of　the　crash…landing　of　the　plane　to　the　explanation　of　why　I　had　been　knocked　on　the　head　the　night　before　last：　inside　the　bill…fold　partment　was　the　newspaper　cutting　which　I　had　first　found　on　the　dead　body　of　Colonel　Harrison。　I　read　it　aloud；　slowly；　with　infinite　chagrin。
　
　The　account　was　brief。　That　it　concerned　that　dreadful　disaster　in　Elizabeth；　New　Jersey；　where　a　muters'　train　had　plunged　through　an　opened　span　of　the　bridge　into　the　waters　of　Newark　Bay；　drowning　dozens　of　the　passengers　aboard；　I　already　knew　from　the　quick　glance　I　had　had　at　the　cutting　in　the　plane。　But；　as　I　had　also　gathered　in　the　plane；　this　was　a　follow…up　story　and　the　reporter　wasted　little　time　on　the　appalling　details：　his　interest　lay　in　another　direction　entirely。　It　was　'reliably　reported'；　he　said；　that　the　train　had　been　carrying　an　army　courier：　that　he　was　one　of　the　forty　who　had　died：　and　that　he　had　been　carrying　a　'super…secret　guided　missile　mechanism'。
　
　That　was　all　the　cutting　said；　but　it　was　enough；　and　more　than　enough。　It　didn't　say　whether　the　mechanism　had　been　lost　or　not；　it　most　certainly　never　even　suggested　that　there　was　any　connection　between　the　presence　of　the　mechanism　aboard　the　train　and　the　reasons　for　the　crash。　It　didn't　have　to；　the　cheek…by…jowl　contiguity　of　the　two　items　made　the　reader's　own　horrifying　conclusions　inevitable。　From　the　silence　that　stretched　out　after　I　had　read　out　the　last　words；　I　knew　that　the　others　were　lost　in　the　same　staggering　speculations　as　myself。　It　was　Jackstraw　who　finally　broke　this　silence；　his　voice　abnormally　matter…of…fact。
　
　〃Well；　we　know　now　why　you　were　knocked　on　the　head。〃
　
　〃Knocked　on　the　head？〃　Zagero　took　him　up。　〃What　do　you…〃
　
　〃Night　before　last；〃　I　interrupted。　〃When　I　told　you　I'd　walked　into　a　lamp…post。〃　I　told　them　all　about　the　finding　of　the　cutting　and　its　subsequent　loss。
　
　〃Would　it　have　made　all　that　difference　even　if　you　had　read　it？〃　Zagero　asked。　〃I　mean…〃
　
　〃Of　course　it　would！〃　My　voice　was　harsh；　savage　almost；　but　the　savagery　was　directed　against　myself；　my　own　stupidity。　〃The　fact　of　finding　a　cutting　about　a　fatal　crash　which　occurred　in　strange　unexplained　circumstances　on　the　person　of　a　man　who　had　just　died　in　a　fatal　crash　in　equally　strange　and　unexplained　circumstances　would　have　made　even　me　suspicious。　When　I　heard　from　Hillcrest　that　something　highly　secret　was　being　carried　aboard　the　plane；　the　parallel　would　have　been　even　more　glaringly　obvious；　especially　as　the　cutting　was　found　on　the　man…an　army　officer…who　was　almost　certainly　the　courier；　the　carrier　of　this　secret。　Anything　larger　than　a　match…box　in　the　luggage　the　passengers　were　carrying　I'd　have　ripped　open　and　examined；　radio　and　tape…recorder　included。　Smallwood　knew　it。　He　didn't　know　what　was　in　the　cutting；　but　he…or　Corazzini…knew　it　was　a　cutting　and　they　were　taking　no　chances　at　all。〃
　
　〃You　weren't　to　know　this；〃　Levin　said　soothingly。　〃It's　not　your　fault…〃
　
　〃Of　course　it's　my　fault；〃　I　said　wearily。　〃All　my　fault。　I　don't　even　know　how　to　start　apologising。　You　first；　Zagero；　I　suppose；　you　and　Solly　Levin；　for　tying　you…〃
　
　〃Forget　it。〃　Zagero　was　curt　but　friendly。　〃We're　just　as　bad　…all　of　us。　All　the　facts　that　mattered　were　as　available　to　us　as　they　were　to　you…and　we　made　no　better　use　of　them：　less；　if　anything。〃　In　the　tiny　glow　from　the　torch　I　could　see　him　shaking　his　head。　〃Lordy；　lordy；　but　ain't　it　easy　to　understand　everything　when　it's　too　late。　Easy　enough　to　understand　now　why　we　crashed　in　the　middle　of　nowhere…the　plane　captain　must　have　been　in　on　it；　he　must　have　known　that　the　mechanism　was　aboard　and　thought　it　important　enough　to　put　the　passengers'　lives　second　and　crash…land　in　the　middle　of　the　ice…plateau；　where　Smallwood　could　never　reach　the　coast。〃
　
　〃Not　knowing　that　I　was　there　waiting　to　oblige　Smallwood；〃　I　said　bitterly。　I　shook　my　head　in　turn。　〃It's　obvious　now；　all　too　obvious。　How　Corazzini　damaged　his　hand　in　the　shack…not　by　saving　or　trying　to　save　the　radio　but　by　accelerating　its　fall　after　he'd　pushed　the　hinges　in。　How　and　why　he　lost　the　toss　and　had　to　sleep　on　the　floor…to　give　him　a　chance　to　smother　the　second　officer。〃
　
　〃What　you　might　call　a　good　loser；〃　Zagero　said　grimly。　Then　he　gave　a　short　laugh。　〃Remember　when　we　buried　the　second　officer？　I　wonder　what　Smallwood's　burial　service　would　have　sounded　like　if　we'd　really　been　close　enough