thedestroyer.deathcheck-第21节

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　〃They　got　his　still？〃
　Deborah　reached　her　hand　to　Remo's　shoulder。　〃The　Egyptian　Air　Force　blasted　it　to　smithereens。'　It　was　incredible。　They　saw　the　sandbags；　I　mean　it　was　obvious　from　the　air。　The　still　had　changed　their　colors　and　the　damned　thing　glowed　at　night。　They　hit　it　with　everything　they　had。　Spitfires。　The　whole　thing。　But　as　you　know；　if　you're　bombing　stills　you're　not　bombing　fortifications　or　towns。　He　must　have　saved　the　village。　But　the　still　was　wiped　out。〃
　And　both　Deborah　and　Remo　said　in　unison：　〃The　degenerate　scum　animals。〃
　〃Remo；　you　should　have　seen　Mm。　That　was　all　he　talked　about　for　days。　Degenerate　scum　animals。　He　volunteered　for　the　Negev　front　but　he　was　not　accepted。　Then　he　left　and　I　guess　your　conflict　with　the　Russians　started　heating　up。　Espionage　war。　And　he　returned　to　your　service。　Where　I　am　sure　you　met　him。〃
　〃Hush；　hush；〃　Remo　said。
　〃And　I　know　now　why　you　are　here　and　I　am　not　afraid。　Friend。〃　She　extended　her　hand　and　Remo　took　it。
　〃Friend；〃　he　said。　And　he　leaned　forward　and　kissed　her　on　the　lips。　And　she　kissed　him。
　Softly；　she　said；　〃Not　tonight。〃　Which　can　never　really　be　said　without　hurting　someone　who　wants　you。
　〃Okay；〃　Remo　said；　〃not　tonight。〃　
　〃You　will　see　me　tomorrow？〃
　〃I　think　I　can　make　it。〃
　〃You're　full　of　shit。　You'll　make　it。〃
　〃Maybe；〃　Remo　said。　And　he　reached　an　arm　behind　her　back　and　pulled　her　to　him　standing　up。　They　both　stood　and　kept　their　lips　together　and　Remo　moved　a　hand　to　her　blouse　and　then　over　a　breast　which　he　pressed　with　warmth。
　〃You　bastard；〃　she　whispered。　〃I　really　did　not　want　to　tonight。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃Because　I　do　not　want　it　that　way。　Not　you　ing　in　and　then。。。　not　that　way。　Tomorrow　night。〃
　〃You　do　not　want　me？〃
　〃I　wanted　you　from　the　moment　you　said　Conn's　name。　Your　face　then　was　beautiful。　You　showed　goodness　and　I　am　so　alone　here。　And　for　a　moment　we　were　not　alone　anymore。〃
　〃I　almost　got　killed　out　in　the　circle；　looking　at　you。〃
　〃You're　a　stupid　man。　Looks。　Like　every　man。　I'm　just　looks　to　you。〃
　〃You　began　as　looks。〃
　〃Remo。　I　want　you　tonight。　Very　much。　But　please；　I　do　not　want　you　ing　in　and　taking　me。　I　do　not　want　you　thinking　you　can　just　walk　in　and　take　me。〃
　〃Was　that　what　you　were　frightened　of？〃
　〃No。　Of　course　not。　I　told　you。　Tomorrow　night。〃
　〃I　could　take　you　now。〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃And　you　would　not　like　it？〃
　〃I　would　love　it。　But　please。〃
　Suddenly　the　phone　rang。　It　was　a　jarring；　persistent　ring　and　Remo　reached　to　rip　the　cord　out　of　the　wall；　but　Deborah　got　to　the　phone　first　and　out　of　his　arms。　She　played　shield　with　the　phone　while　she　talked。
　〃Yes；〃　she　said。　〃Yes。　Yes。　Dammit。　Are　you　sure？　Does　it　have　to　be　that　way？　Yes。　I'm　sorry。　Yes；　yes。　Ofcourse。　Of　course。〃
　She　hung　up　the　phone　and　cocked　her　head。　〃There　is　nothing　like　a　telephone　to　protect　chastity。　Tomorrow；　Remo。〃
　And　Remo　acquiesced　like　a　gentleman。　Gently　he　took　the　phone　in　the　palm　of　his　left　hand　and　with　an　ungentlemanly　right　hand　brought　the　palm　edge　down　and　through；　cracking　the　receiver　and　the　carriage。　Then　he　split　the　fucking　insides　in　a　screeching　gaggle　of　colored　wires。
　〃Tomorrow；〃　he　said　sweetly　and　dropped　the　two　halves　of　the　great　American　technology　on　the　floor。
　Deborah　smiled。　〃Oh；　you　big　frightening　man。　You're　so　terrifying。〃　And　she　went　to　him　and　kissed　him　and　tugged　him；　like　a　little　boy　to　the　door。　〃Oh；　you're　such　a　terror。　Cracking　telephones　and　beating　up　motorcycle　people。　Oh；　you're　so　terrible。〃　She　gave　him　a　playful　punch　in　the　stomach；　kissed　him　with　finality　on　the　lips；　spun　him　around　out　the　door；　where　the　insects　were　still　trying　to　gather　a　quorum；　and　shut　the　door；　disposing　of　the　most　perfect　human　weapon　in　a　nation's　arsenal　like　a　little　toy　top。
　And　Remo　loved　it。　He　told　himself　he　would　not　think　about　the　first　time　he　had　really　met　MacCleary；　who　had　posed　as　a　priest　in　Remo's　death　cell　and　offered　the　pill　of　life　on　the　end　of　a　cross；　MacCleary；　who　had　engineered　his　supposed　death　only　to　bring　him　to　what　the　world　thought　was　a　sanitarium　to　begin　training　that　would　never　end；　MacCleary　who　had　made　the　incredibly　stupid　mistake　of　being　vulnerable；　MacCleary；　who　being　vulnerable；　had　to　be　killed。
　MacCleary。　Remo　Williams'　first　assignment　and　the　only　one　he　was　unable　to　plete。　MacCleary　who　had　wound　up　doing　Remo's　job　by　using　his　hooked　arm　to　rip　tubings　from　his　own　throat　in　a　hospital　bed。　MacCleary；　the　stupid　bastard　who　believed　that　it　was　right　to　die　for　a　tomorrow　where　his　type　would　not　be　needed。　MacCleary；　who　by　his　death；　had　sealed　Remo　Williams　into　his　new　life　just　as　surely　as　if　the　bandages　covering　his　fatal　wounds　now　bound　Remo。
　Remo　Williams　who　had　not　missed　an　assignment　since。　Remo　Williams。　Who　if　Dial…a…Prayer　in　Chicago　should　have　said　something　from　Deuteronomy　that　noon；　would　have　visited　that　night　with　Deborah；　taken　her　on　a　quiet　walk。　And　killed　her。
　But　the　good　Reverend　had　not　read　from　Deuteronomy　and　Smith　had　given　him　a　day　off；　a　day　from　peak。　And　it　was　the　good　warm　August　of　Virginia。　He　would　spend　tomorrow　with　Deborah；　and　he　would　make　a　beautiful　day。　It　was　more　than　many　people　had。
　But　then　Dr。　Nils　Brewster　found　the　body　of　Dr。　James　Ratchett。
　
　CHAPTER　NINETEEN
　
　Dr。　James　Ratchett　had　always　imagined　Ms　death　would　be　a　dramatic　affair。
　In　his　youth；　he　had　visions　of　stark　white　hospital　beds　where　he　forgave　people。　Dying；　he　forgave　his　parents；　then　his　sister。　Sometimes　he　would　fantasize　dying　with　a　curse；　ripping　out　the　tubing　from　his　swollen　arm　and　refusing　life。
　His　mother　would　promptly　slash　her　wrists；　his　sister　would　carry　an　indelible　wound　for　life。　And　his　father？　Damn　his　father。　Even　in　fantasies；　he　could　not　imagine　his　father　being　very　interested　in　anything　James　did。　Even　in　fantasy；　his　father　would　be　telephoned　at　his　Wall　Street　office；　the　message　taken　by　his　trim；　attractive　secretary。　She　would　tell　him　at　6：30　that　night　over　cocktails；　before　retiring　to　their　apartment。
　〃Ripped　it　out　of　his　arm；　you　say？；〃　his　father　would　ask。　〃Cursed　me　on　his　death　bed？　Hmmm。　Never　knew　little　James　had　it　in　him。〃
　James　was　nine　when　he　had　these　fantasies。　When　he　was　fourteen；　he　had　different　fantasies。　It　was　his　father　in　a　hospital　bed；　and　James　was　ripping　the　tubing　from　his　father's　arm；　because　he　had　just　realized　what　a　filthy；　hairy；　grotesque　pig　he　was。
　At　fourteen；　James　had　made　concoctions。　He　would　give　them　to　friends。　He　once　gave　a　concoction　to　a　neighbor's　boy；　five　years　younger　than　he。　The　boy　was　in　a　a　for　three　days　and　James　was　sent　where　people　made　sure　you　didn't　brew　poisons　for　younger　boys　to　drink。
　They　sent　him　to　the　Bilsey　School；　Dorchester；　England；　where　proper　young　English　gentlemen　went　…through　a　homosexual　phase。　For　James；　it　was　not　a　phase。　Denied　chemical　equipment　and　chemicals；　he　devoted　himself　to　theorizing　about　them。　He　continued　this　at　Rensselaer　Polytechnic　Institute　in　upstate　New　York　where　he；　had　all　the　equipment　he　needed；　but　remained　addicted　to　theory；　it　being　so　much　cleaner　and　neater。
　He　received　a　science　degree　from　Harvard　and　a　doctorate　in　theoretical　chemistry　from　M。I。T。　His　senior　thesis　won　him　international　fame　and　his　evening　activities　earned　him　three　suspended　sentences　for　contributing　to　the　delinquency　of　minors。　To　get　the　last　two　sentences　suspended　was　extremely　expensive；　exhausting　his　inheritance。　This　meant　he　could　not　continue　toward　his　doctorate　in　mathematics。　He　would　have　to　teach。　Teaching　meant　constantly　dealing　with　people；　perhaps　as　much　as　five　hours　a　week。
　Then　came　Brewster　Forum。　He　could　design　his　own　cottage。　Of　course；　Dr。　Brewster　understood　how　people's　tastes　varied　and　why　not　be　sensible？　And　Dr。　James　Ratchett　found　a　home；　and　sometimes　even　an　audience　for　his　hypnotism　which　he　had　learned　as　a　child　under　the　mistaken　impression　that　it　would　guarantee　him　endless　lovers。
　But　the　hypnotism　of　the　night　before　had　left　a　malignant；　gnawing　remembrance　of　something　just　about　to　be　remembered；　but　reluctant　to　e　forward。　It　was　a　cry　of　ready　or　not；　here　I　e；　and　then　nothing　came。
　So。　He　would　wrestle　it　away　from　his　memory。　To　do　so；　one　must　be　prepared。　You　do　not　grab　a　thought　like　a　little　boy's　neck。　You　tease　it；　coax　it。　Ignore　it。　You　make　yourself　very　fortable　without　it　and　then　it　jumps　forward　to　join　the　party。
　Dr。　James　Ratchett　undressed　and　left　his　clothes　outside　his　very　special　room。　It　was　a　masterpiece　of　engineering；　that　room；　a　white　bowl　shape；　upholstered　all　around　with　white　vinyl；　over　a　layer　of　water　that　cushioned　the　floors　and　the　rounded　walls　as　high　up　as　a　man　could　reach。　Ratchett's　acquaintances　called　it　his　womb…room　but　he　thought　of　it　as　his　den。
　Into　the　room；　he　had　brought　his　pipe　with　a　sliver　of　hashish。　The　pipe　lit　when　he　pressed　a　button；　and　Ratchett　brought　the　smoke　deep　down　into　his　lungs　and　held　his　breath。　He　became　aware　of　his　limbs：　how　distant　they　were　and　how　he　was　holding　his　breath。　He　was　holding　his　breat