cb.booksofblood2-第35节

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ot　seen　in　one　bination　or　another。　Tenderly；　he　cradled　the　body；　not　noticing　the　blood。　He　hadn't　loved　this　man；　scarcely　cared　for　him　at　all；　but　now　all　he　wanted　was　to　take　him　away；　out　of　the　ape's　cage；　and　find　him　a　human　grave。　He'd　take　the　photograph　too。　That　was　too　much；　giving　the　beast　a　photograph　of　the　three　friends　together。　It　made　him　hate　Phillipe　more　than　ever。
　He　hauled　the　body　off　the　carpet。　It　required　a　gargantuan　effort；　and　the　sultry　heat　in　the　room；　after　the　chill　of　the　outside　world；　made　him　dizzy。　He　could　feel　a　jittering　nervousness　in　his　limbs。　His　body　was　close　to　betraying　him；　he　knew　it；　close　to　failing；　to　losing　its　coherence　and　collapsing。
　Not　here。　In　God's　name；　not　here。
　Maybe　he　should　go　now；　and　find　a　phone。　That　would　be　wise。　Call　the　police；　yes。　。　。　call　Catherine；　yes　。
　even　find　somebody　in　the　house　to　help　him。　But　that　would　mean　leaving　Jacques　in　the　lair；　for　the　beast　to　assault　again；　and　he　had　bee　strangely　protective　of　the　corpse；　he　was　unwilling　to　leave　it　alone。　In　an　anguish　of　confused　feelings；　unable　to　leave　Jacques　yet　unable　to　move　him　far；　he　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　room　and　did　nothing　at　all。　That　was　best；　yes。　Nothing　at　all。　Too　tired；　too　weak。　Nothing　at　all　was　best。
　
　The　reverie　went　on　interminably；　the　old　man　fixed　beyond　movement　at　the　crux　of　his　feelings；　unable　to　go　forward　into　the　future；　or　back　into　the　soiled　past。　Unable　to　remember。　Unable　to　forget。
　Waiting；　in　a　dreamy　half…life；　for　the　end　of　the　world。
　It　came　home　noisily　like　a　drunken　man；　and　the　sound　of　its　opening　the　outer　door　stirred　Lewis　into　a　slow　response。　With　some　difficulty　he　hauled　Jacques　into　the　wardrobe；　and　hid　there　himself；　with　the　faceless　head　in　his　lap。
　There　was　a　voice　in　the　room；　a　woman's　voice。　Maybe　it　wasn't　the　beast；　after　all。　But　no：　through　the　crack　of　the　wardrobe　door　Lewis　could　see　the　beast；　and　a　red…haired　young　woman　with　him。　She　was　talking　incessantly；　the　perpetual　trivia　of　a　spaced…out　mind。
　'You've　got　more；　oh　you　sweetie；　oh　you　dear　man；　that's　wonderful。　Look　at　all　this　stuff。'
　She　had　pills　in　her　hands　and　was　swallowing　them　like　sweets；　gleeful　as　a　child　at　Christmas。
　'Where　did　you　get　all　this？　OK；　if　you　don't　want　to　tell　me；　it's　fine　by　me。'
　Was　this　Phillipe's　doing　too；　or　had　the　ape　stolen　the　stuff　for　his　own　purposes？　Did　he　regularly　seduce　redheaded　prostitutes　with　drugs？
　The　girl's　grating　babble　was　calming　now；　as　the　pills　took　effect；　sedating　her；　transporting　her　to　a　private　world。　Lewis　watched；　entranced；　as　she　began　to　undress。
　'It's　so。　。　。　hot。　。　。in　here。'
　The　ape　watched；　his　back　to　Lewis。　What　expression　did　that　shaved　face　wear？　Was　there　lust　in　its　eyes；　or　doubt？
　The　girl's　breasts　were　beautiful；　though　her　body　was　rather　too　thin。　The　young　skin　was　white；　the　nipples　flower…pink。　She　raised　her　arms　over　her　head　and　as　she　stretched　the　perfect　globes　rose　and　flattened　slightly。　The　ape　reached　a　wide　hand　to　her　body　and　tenderly　plucked　at　one　of　her　nipples；　rolling　it　between　dark…meat　fingers。　The　girl　sighed。
　'Shall　I　。　。　。　take　everything　off？'
　The　monkey　grunted。
　'You　don't　say　much；　do　you？'
　She　shimmied　out　of　her　red　skirt。　Now　she　was　naked　but　for　a　pair　of　knickers。　She　lay　on　the　bed　stretching　again；　luxuriating　in　her　body　and　the　wele　heat　of　the　room；　not　even　bothering　to　look　at　her　admirer。
　Wedged　underneath　Solal's　body；　Lewis　began　to　feel　dizzy　again。　His　lower　limbs　were　now　pletely　numb；　and　he　had　no　feeling　in　his　right　arm；　which　was　pressed　against　the　back　of　the　wardrobe；　yet　he　didn't　dare　move。　The　ape　was　capable　of　anything；　he　knew　that。　If　he　was　discovered　what　might　it　not　choose　to　do；　to　him　and　to　the　girl？
　Every　part　of　his　body　was　now　either　nerveless；　or　wracked　with　pain。　In　his　lap　Solal's　seeping　body　seemed　to　bee　heavier　with　every　moment。　His　spine　was　screaming；　and　the　back　of　his　neck　pained　him　as　though　pierced　with　hot　knitting…needles。　The　agony　was　being　unbearable；　he　began　to　think　he　would　die　in　this　pathetic　hiding　place；　while　the　ape　made　love。
　The　girl　sighed；　and　Lewis　looked　again　at　the　bed。　The　ape　had　its　hand　between　her　legs；　and　she　squirmed　beneath　its　ministrations。
　'Yes；　oh　yes；'　she　said　again　and　again；　as　her　lover　stripped　her　pletely。
　It　was　too　much。　The　dizziness　throbbed　through　Lewis'　cortex。　Was　this　death？　The　lights　in　the　head；　and　the　whine　in　the　ears？
　
　He　closed　his　eyes；　blotting　out　the　sight　of　the　lovers；　but　unable　to　shut　out　the　noise。　It　seemed　to　go　on　forever；　invading　his　head。　Sighs；　laughter；　little　shrieks。
　At　last；　darkness。
　
　Lewis　woke　on　an　invisible　rack；　his　body　had　been　wrenched　out　of　shape　by　the　limitations　of　his　hiding…place。　He　looked　up。　The　door　of　the　wardrobe　was　open；　and　the　ape　was　staring　down　at　him；　its　mouth　attempting　a　grin。　It　was　naked；　and　its　body　was　almost　entirely　shaved。　In　the　cleft　of　its　immense　chest　a　small　gold　crucifix　glinted。　Lewis　recognized　the　jewellery　immediately。　He　had　bought　it　for　Phillipe　in　the　Champs　Elysees　just　before　the　war。　Now　it　nestled　in　a　tuft　of　reddish…orange　hair。　The　beast　proffered　a　hand　to　Lewis；　and　he　automatically　took　it。　The　coarse…palmed　grip　hauled　him　from　under　Solal's　body。　He　couldn't　stand　straight。　His　legs　were　rubbery；　his　ankles　wouldn't　support　him。　The　beast　took　hold　of　him；　and　steadied　him。　His　head　spinning；　Lewis　looked　down　into　the　wardrobe；　where　Solal　was　lying；　tucked　up　like　a　baby　in　its　womb；　face　to　the　wall。
　The　beast　closed　the　door　on　the　corpse；　and　helped　Lewis　to　the　sink；　where　he　was　sick。
　'Phillipe？'　He　dimly　realized　that　the　woman　was　still　here：　in　the　bed：　just　woken　after　a　night　of　love。
　'Phillipe：　who's　this？'　She　was　scrabbling　for　pills　on　the　table　beside　the　bed。　The　beast　sauntered　across　and　snatched　them　from　her　hands。
　'Ah。。　。　Phillipe。　。　。　please。　Do　you　want　me　to　go　with　this　one　as　well？　I　will　if　you　want。　Just　give　me　back　the　pills。'
　She　gestured　towards　Lewis。
　
　'I　don't　usually　go　with　old　men。'
　The　ape　growled　at　her。　The　expression　on　her　face　changed；　as　though　for　the　first　time　she　had　an　inkling　of　what　this　john　was。　But　the　thought　was　too　difficult　for　her　drugged　mind；　and　she　let　it　go。
　'Please；　Phillipe。　。　。'　she　whimpered。
　Lewis　was　looking　at　the　ape。　It　had　taken　the　photograph　from　the　mantelpiece。　Its　dark　nail　was　on　Lewis'　picture。　It　was　smiling。　It　recognized　him；　even　though　forty…odd　years　had　drained　so　much　life　from　him。
　'Lewis；'　it　said；　finding　the　word　quite　easy　to　say。
　The　old　man　had　nothing　in　his　stomach　to　vomit；　and　no　harm　left　to　feel。　This　was　the　end　of　the　century；　he　should　be　ready　for　anything。　Even　to　be　greeted　as　a　friend　of　a　friend　by　the　shaved　beast　that　loomed　in　front　of　him。　It　would　not　harm　him；　he　knew　that。　Probably　Phillipe　had　told　the　ape　about　their　lives　together；　made　the　creature　love　Catherine　and　himself　as　much　as　it　had　adored　Phillipe。
　'Lewis；'　it　said　again；　and　gestured　to　the　woman；　（now　sitting　open…legged　on　the　bed）　offering　her　for　his　pleasure。
　Lewis　shook　his　head。
　In　and　out；　in　and　out；　part　fiction；　part　fact。
　It　had　e　to　this；　offered　a　human　woman　by　this　naked　ape。　It　was　the　last；　God　help　him；　the　very　last　chapter　in　the　fiction　his　great　uncle　had　begun。　From　love　to　murder　back　to　love　again。　The　love　of　an　ape　for　a　man。　He　had　caused　it；　with　his　dreams　of　fictional　heroes；　steeped　in　absolute　reason。　He　had　coaxed　Phillipe　into　making　real　the　stories　of　a　lost　youth。　He　was　to　blame。　Not　this　poor　strutting　ape；　lost　between　the　jungle　and　the　Stock　Exchange；　not　Phillipe；　wanting　to　be　young　forever；　certainly　not　cold　Catherine；　who　after　tonight　would　be　pletely　alone。　It　was　him。　His　the　crime；　his　the　guilt；　his　the　punishment。
　His　legs　had　regained　a　little　feeling；　and　he　began　to　stagger　to　the　door。
　'Aren't　you　staying？'　said　the　red…haired　woman。
　'This　thing。　。　。'　he　couldn't　bring　himself　to　name　the　animal。
　'You　mean　Phillipe？'
　'He　isn't　called　Phillipe；'　Lewis　said。　'He's　not　even　human。'
　'Please　yourself；'　she　said；　and　shrugged。
　To　his　back；　the　ape　spoke；　saying　his　name。　But　this　time；　instead　of　it　ing　out　as　a　sort　of　grunt…word；　its　simian　palate　caught　Phillipe's　inflexion　with　unnerving　accuracy；　better　than　the　most　skilful　of　parrots。　It　was　Phillipe's　voice；　perfectly。
　'Lewis；'　it　said。
　Not　pleading。　Not　demanding。　Simply　naming；　for　the　pleasure　of　naming；　an　equal。
　
　The　passers…by　who　saw　the　old　man　clamber　on　to　the　parapet　of　the　Pont　du　Carrousel　stared；　but　made　no　attempt　to　stop　him　jumping。　He　teetered　a　moment　as　he　stood　up　straight；　then　pitched　over　into　the　threshing；　churning　ice…water。
　One　or　two　people　wandered　to　the　other　side　of　the　bridge　to　see　if　the　current　had　caught　him：　it　had。　He　rose　to　the　surface；　his　face　blue…white　and　blank　as　a　baby's；　then　some　intricate　eddy　snatched　at　his　feet　and　pulled　him　under。　The　thick　water　closed　over　his　head　and　churned　on。
　'Who　was　that？'　some