preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第44节

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　Something　gleamed　in　his　gloved　hands。
　There　was　nowhere　to　go　but　up。　Without　an　instant's　thought；　she　turned；　grabbed　the　edge　of　a　shelf；　and　began　climbing。
　The　figure　came　flying　down　the　aisle；　black　cloak　billowing　behind。
　Nora　was　an　experienced　rock　climber。　Her　years　as　an　archaeologist　in　Utah；　climbing　to　caves　and　Anasazi　cliff　dwellings；　were　not　forgotten。　In　a　minute　she　had　reached　the　top　shelf；　which　swayed　and　groaned　under　the　unexpected　weight。　She　turned　frantically；　grabbed　the　first　thing　that　came　to　hand…a　stuffed　falcon…and　looked　down　once　again。
　The　black…hatted　man　was　already　below；　climbing；　face　obscured　in　deep　shadow。　Nora　aimed；　then　threw。
　The　falcon　bounced　harmlessly　off　one　shoulder。
　She　looked　around　desperately　for　something　else。　A　box　of　papers；　another　stuffed　animal；　more　boxes。　She　threw　one；　then　another。　But　they　were　too　light；　useless。
　Still　the　man　climbed。
　With　a　sob　of　terror；　she　swung　over　the　top　shelf　and　started　descending　the　other　side。　Abruptly；　a　gloved　hand　darted　between　the　shelving；　caught　hold　of　her　shirt。　Nora　screamed；　ripping　herself　free。　A　dim　flash　of　steel　and　a　tiny　blade　swept　past　her；　missing　her　eye　by　inches。　She　swung　away　as　the　blade　made　another　glittering　arc　toward　her。　Pain　abruptly　blossomed　in　her　right　shoulder。
　She　cried　out；　lost　her　grip。　Landing　on　her　feet；　she　broke　her　fall　by　rolling　to　one　side。
　On　the　far　side　of　the　shelving；　the　man　had　quickly　climbed　back　down　to　the　ground。　Now　he　began　climbing　directly　through　the　shelf；　kicking　and　knocking　specimen　jars　and　boxes　aside。
　Again　she　ran；　running　wildly；　blindly；　from　aisle　to　aisle。
　Suddenly；　a　vast　shape　rose　out　of　the　dimness　before　her。　It　was　a　woolly　mammoth。　Nora　recognized　it　immediately：　she'd　been　here；　once　before；　with　Puck。
　But　which　direction　was　out？　As　she　looked　around；　Nora　realized　she　would　never　make　it…the　pursuer　would　be　upon　her　in　a　matter　of　seconds。
　Suddenly；　she　knew　there　was　only　one　thing　to　do。
　Reaching　for　the　light　switches　at　the　end　of　the　aisle；　she　brushed　them　off　with　a　single　movement；　plunging　the　surrounding　corridors　once　again　into　darkness。　Quickly；　she　felt　beneath　the　mammoth's　scratchy　belly。　There　it　was：　a　wooden　lever。　She　tugged；　and　the　trap　door　fell　open。
　Trying　to　make　as　little　noise　as　possible；　she　climbed　into　the　hot；　stuffy　belly；　pulling　the　trapdoor　up　behind　her。
　Then　she　waited；　inside　the　mammoth。　The　air　stank　of　rot；　dust；　jerked　meat；　mushrooms。
　She　heard　a　rapid　series　of　clicks。　The　lights　came　back　on。　A　stray　beam　worked　through　a　small　hole　in　the　animal's　chest：　an　eyehole；　for　the　circus　worker。
　Nora　looked　out；　trying　to　control　her　rapid　breathing；　to　push　away　the　panic　that　threatened　to　overwhelm　her。　The　man　in　the　derby　hat　stood　not　five　feet　away；　back　turned。　Slowly；　he　rotated　himself　through　360　degrees；　looking；　listening　intently。　He　was　holding　a　strange　instrument　in　his　hands：　two　polished　ivory　handles　joined　by　a　thin；　flexible　steel　saw　with　tiny　serrations。　It　looked　like　some　kind　of　dreadful　antique　surgical　instrument。　He　flexed　it；　causing　the　steel　wire　to　bend　and　shimmy。
　His　gaze　came　to　rest　on　the　mammoth。　He　took　a　step　toward　it；　his　face　in　shadow。　It　was　as　if　he　knew　this　was　where　she　was　hiding。　Nora　tensed；　readying　herself　to　fight　to　the　end。
　And　then；　just　as　suddenly　as　he'd　approached；　he　was　gone。
　〃Mr。　Puck？〃　a　voice　was　calling。　〃Mr。　Puck；　I'm　here！　Mr。　Puck？〃
　It　was　Oscar　Gibbs。
　Nora　waited；　too　terrified　to　move。　The　voice　came　closer　and；　finally；　Oscar　Gibbs　appeared　around　the　corner　of　the　aisle。
　〃Mr。　Puck？　Where　are　you？〃
　With　a　trembling　hand；　Nora　reached　down；　unlatched　the　trapdoor；　and　lowered　herself　out　of　the　belly　of　the　mammoth。　Gibbs　turned；　jumped　back；　and　stood　there；　staring　at　her　open…mouthed。
　〃Did　you　see　him？〃　Nora　gasped。　〃Did　you　see　him？〃
　〃Who？　What　were　you　doing　in　there？　Hey；　you're　bleeding！〃
　Nora　looked　at　her　shoulder。　There　was　a　spreading　stain　of　blood　where　the　scalpel　had　nicked　her。
　Gibbs　came　closer。　〃Look；　I　don't　know　what　you're　doing　here；　or　what's　going　on；　but　let's　get　you　to　the　nurse's　office。　Okay？〃
　Nora　shook　her　head。　〃No。　Oscar；　you　have　to　call　the　police；　right　away。　Mr。　Puck〃…her　voice　broke　for　a　moment…〃Mr。　Puck's　been　murdered。　And　the　murderer　is　right　here。　In　the　Museum。〃
　
　Many　Worm
　
　ONE
　　
　BILL　SMITHBACK　HAD　managed；　with　a　little　name…dropping　here　and　a　little　intimidation　there；　to　get　the　best　seat　in　the　house。　〃The　house〃　was　the　press　room　of　One　Police　Plaza；　a　cavernous　space　painted　the　institutional　color　known　universally　as　Vomit　Green。　It　was　now　filled　to　overflowing　with　scurrying　television　news　crews　and　frantic　journalists。　Smithback　loved　the　electric　atmosphere　of　a　big　press　conference；　called　hastily　after　some　dreadful　event；　packed　with　city　officials　and　police　brass　laboring　under　the　misapprehension　that　they　could　spin　the　unruly　fourth　estate　of　New　York。
　He　remained　in　his　seat；　calm；　legs　folded；　tape　recorder　loaded；　and　shotgun　mike　poised；　while　pandemonium　raged　around　him。　To　his　professional　nose；　it　smelled　different　today。　There　was　an　undertone　of　fear。　More　than　fear；　actually：　closer　to　ill…suppressed　hysteria。　He'd　seen　it　as　he'd　ridden　the　subway　downtown　that　morning；　walked　the　streets　around　City　Hall。　These　three　copycat　killings；　one　on　top　of　another；　were　just　too　strange。　People　were　talking　of　nothing　else。　The　whole　city　was　on　the　verge　of　panic。
　Off　to　one　side　he　caught　sight　of　Bryce　Harriman；　expostulating　with　a　policeman　who　refused　to　let　him　move　closer　to　the　front。　All　that　fine　vocational　training　at　Columbia　journalism　school；　wasted　on　the　New　York　Post。　He　should　have　taken　a　nice　quiet　professorship　at　his　old　alma　mater；　teaching　callow　youth　how　to　write　a　flawless　inverted　pyramid。　True；　the　bastard　had　scooped　him　on　the　second　murder；　on　the　copycat　angle；　but　surely　that　was　just　luck。　Wasn't　it？
　There　was　a　stir　in　the　crowd。　The　wing　doors　of　the　press　room　belched　out　a　group　of　blue　suits；　followed　by　the　mayor　of　New　York　City；　Edward　Montefiori。　The　man　was　tall　and　solid；　very　much　aware　that　all　eyes　were　upon　him。　He　paused；　nodding　to　acquaintances　here　and　there；　his　face　reflecting　the　gravity　of　the　moment。　The　New　York　City　mayoral　race　was　in　full　swing；　being　conducted　as　usual　at　the　level　of　two…year…olds。　It　was　imperative　that　he　catch　this　killer；　bring　the　copycat　murders　to　an　end；　the　last　thing　the　mayor　wanted　was　to　give　his　rival　yet　more　fodder　for　his　nasty　television　advertisements；　which　had　been　decrying　the　city's　recent　upsurge　in　crime。
　More　people　were　ing　onto　the　stage。　The　mayor's　spokesperson；　Mary　Hill；　a　tall；　extremely　poised　African…American　woman；　the　fat　police　captain　Sherwood　Custer；　in　whose　precinct　this　whole　mess　had　started；　the　police　missioner；　Rocker…a　tall；　weary…looking　man…and；　finally；　Dr。　Frederick　Collopy；　director　of　the　Museum；　followed　by　Roger　Brisbane。　Smithback　felt　a　surge　of　anger　when　he　saw　Brisbane；　looking　urbane　in　a　neatly　tailored　gray　suit。　Brisbane　was　the　one　who　had　screwed　up　everything　between　him　and　Nora。　Even　after　Nora's　horrible　discovery　of　Puck's　murdered　corpse；　after　being　chased　and　nearly　caught　herself　by　the　Surgeon；　she　had　refused　to　see　him；　to　let　him　fort　her。　It　was　almost　as　if　she　blamed　him　for　what　happened　to　Puck　and　Pendergast。
　The　noise　level　in　the　room　was　being　deafening。　The　mayor　mounted　the　podium　and　raised　his　hand。　At　the　gesture；　the　room　quickly　fell　silent。
　The　mayor　read　from　a　prepared　statement；　his　Brooklyn　accent　filling　the　room。
　〃Ladies　and　gentlemen　of　the　press；〃　he　began。　〃From　time　to　time　our　great　city；　because　of　its　size　and　diversity；　has　been　stalked　by　serial　killers。　Thankfully；　it　has　been　many　years　since　the　last　such　plague。　Now；　however；　it　appears　we　are　faced　with　a　new　serial　killer；　a　true　psychopath。　Three　people　have　been　murdered　in　the　space　of　a　week；　and　in　a　particularly　violent　way。　While　the　city　is　now　enjoying　the　lowest　murder　rate　of　any　major　metropolitan　area　in　the　country…thanks　to　our　vigorous　enforcement　efforts　and　zero　tolerance　for　lawbreaking…this　is　clearly　three　murders　too　many。　I　called　this　press　conference　to　share　with　the　public　the　strong　and　effective　steps　we　are　taking　to　find　this　killer；　and　to　answer　as　best　we　can　questions　you　might　have　about　this　case　and　its　somewhat　sensational　aspects。　As　you　know；　openness　has　always　been　a　top　priority　of　my　administration。　I　therefore　have　brought　with　me　Karl　Rocker；　the　police　missioner；　Sherwood　Custer；　precinct　captain；　Director　Frederick　Collopy　and　Vice　President　Roger　Brisbane　of　the　New　York　Museum　of　Natural　History；　where　the　latest　homicide　was　discovered。　My　spokesperson；　Mary　Hill；　will　field　the　questions。　But　first；　I　will　ask　missioner　Rocker　to　give　you　a　briefing　on　the　case。〃
　He　stepped　back　and　Rocker　took　the　microphone。
　〃Thank　you；　Mr。　Mayor。〃　His　low；　intelligent　voice；　dry　as　parchment；　filled　the　room。　〃Last　Thursday；　the　body　o