emb.seethemdie-第29节

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　But　that　isn't　the　way　it　happened。
　The　street　was　impossible。　The　crowd　was　anxious　for　the　kill　now；　anxious　for　the　die　to　be　cast　either　way。　They　didn't　much　give　a　damn　at　this　moment　whether　or　not　Miranda　would　kill　the　priest　and　the　police　lieutenant　and　the　missioner　and　the　mayor　and　the　governor　and　even　the　president。　They　didn't　care　whether　or　not　a　cop　on　one　of　the　rooftops　would　fire　a　lucky　shot　and　catch　Miranda　splank　between　the　eyeballs。　They　only　wanted　it　to　be　over　and　done　with；　either　way。　And　so　the　crowd　was　restless；　and　a　little　mean；　and　hot；　and　unfortable。　It　was　a　crowd　which　was　beginning　to　resent　this　tie　game　which　had　run　into　fourteen　innings。　The　tenth　inning　had　been　a　treat　and　the　eleventh　a　distinct　bonus　and　the　twelfth　a　lovely　dividend；　but　the　thirteenth　brought　on　thoughts　of　other　things　to　be　done。　Watching　a　game　was　great　fun　…　but　life　was　real　and　life　was　earnest；　and　life　was　going　on　outside　that　ball　park。
　So　the　crowd　resisted　the　shoving　of　Zip　and　Cooch；　and　occasionally　the　crowd　shoved　back　at　the　two　boys　and　cursed　a　bit；　and　did　everything　possible　to　make　the　task　of　locating　China　unimaginably　difficult。
　In　fifteen　minutes'　time；　Zip　and　Cooch　gave　up　the　search。
　It　was　just　as　well　that　they　had；　because　China　wasn't　in　the　neighborhood　any　longer。　China　had　gone　over　to　the　park　where　she　had　sat　by　the　lake　and　watched　the　people　in　the　rowboats。　That's　where　China　was。　She　cried　a　little；　yes。　In　the　park；　by　the　lake；　watching　the　rowboats。
　The　sailor？　Did　he　wander　back　to　the　street？　Did　he　amble　over　to　the　park？
　The　sailor　went　to　bed　with　a　prostitute　named　Marge。　Marge　was　a　practiced　whore；　and　she　pleased　the　sailor　immensely。　The　sailor　paid　her　fifteen　dollars；　which　was　nearly　every　cent　he　had。　Then　he　walked　to　the　subway；　got　on　a　train；　went　downtown　to　where　his　ship　was　docked；　started　up　the　gangway；　saluted　the　ensign　on　the　fantail；　saluted　the　officer　of　the　deck；　went　to　the　rear　partment；　took　off　his　whites；　put　on　a　pair　of　dungarees　and　a　chambray　shirt；　climbed　into　his　sack；　and　went　to　sleep　until　the　loud…speaker　amidships　announced；　〃Chow　down。〃　He　ate　a　good　dinner；　saw　a　movie　on　the　boat　deck　that　evening；　went　to　bed　about　eleven　o'clock；　and　sailed　for　San　Diego　the　next　morning。　He　never　saw　the　Puerto　Rican　girl　named　China　again　in　his　life。　He　probably　went　back　to　Fletcher；　Colorado；　eventually。　Maybe　she　flashed　into　his　mind　every　now　and　then　…　like　once　every　twelve　years。　Maybe　he　remembered　her　dimly　and　wondered　what　had　bee　of　her。　Maybe；　married　to　Corrine　and　running　an　insurance　business；　he　sporadically　thought　of　China　in　an　idealized　way；　the　most　beautiful　girl　in　the　world；　exotic；　that　day　in　a　strange　city；　far　away；　I　wonder　what　became　of　her；　I　wonder。
　She　sat　in　the　park　and　wept　a　bit　and　watched　the　rowboats。
　You　are　God；　and　you　can　do　it　any　way　you　want　to。　You　can　even　get　them　married　the　next　day　before　his　ship　sails。　Anything　you　want　to　do。　All　the　possibilities　are　there。　And　you're　God；　and　there　isn't　anyone　who's　going　to　slap　your　wrist；　no　matter　how　you　do　it。
　But　God；　man；　that　is　the　way　it　happened。
　Steve　Carella　knocked　on　the　door。　There　were　bullet　holes　in　the　door；　and　Carella　remembered　that　Pepe　Miranda　had　shot　a　patrolman　through　that　door；　and　he　suddenly　wanted　his　。38　in　his　hand。
　Now；　easy；　he　told　himself。　Now　just　take'it　easy；　and　don't　panic。　We　are　going　to　play　this　Miranda's　way　because　there　are　a　lot　of　people　out　there　on　the　street；　and　we　don't　want　them　to　be　getting　shot。　So　be　cool。　Your　hand　is　shaking；　and　you　are　itching　to　pull　that　。38　so　that　you'll　have　something　more　than　a　set　of　prayer　beads　in　your　fist　when　that　door　opens；　but　be　cool；　Steve…o；　be　cool　and。。。
　The　door　opened。
　A　。45　automatic　was　the　first　thing　Carella　saw。　The　door　opened　just　a　crack；　and　there　was　the　。45；　its　big　ugly　snout　pointing　into　the　hallway。　Carella's　mouth　felt　very　dry。
　〃I'm　。。。　Father　Donovan；〃　he　said　to　the　automatic。
　The　door　opened　wider。　Carella's　eyes　panned　up　from　the　。45；　the　hand　holding　it；　the　thin　wrist；　the　black　hair　curling　on　the　arm；　the　narrow　shoulders；　the　sweat…stained　undershirt；　the　sudden　puff　of　black　hair　in　the　hollow　of　the　throat；　the　wings　of　the　man's　collarbones；　his　thin　neck；　and　high　cheekbones；　brown　eyes；　puffed　lids；　a　balding　head；　and　desperation。　Add　a　man　up；　add　the　parts；　form　a　total　picture；　and　the　total　is　desperation。　It　was　there　in　Miranda's　eyes　and　in　his　mouth　and　even　in　the　way　he　held　the　。45；　his　head　tilted　to　one　side；　his　shoulder　sort　of　leaning　into　the　gun；　the　gun　close　to　his　body　as　if　it　were　something　he　cherished；　a　tie　to　reality。
　〃e　in　a　minute；〃　Miranda　said。
　Carella　stepped　into　the　apartment。　The　place　was　a　shambles。　The　furniture；　the　floors；　everything　in　the　room　bore　the　ravaging　marks　of　gunfire。　It　was　inconceivable　to　think　that　a　human　being　had　been　in　this　bullet…pocked　room　and　managed　to　escape　getting　shot。
　〃Looks　like　they　dropped　an　atom　bomb　in　here；　don't　it？〃　Miranda　said。
　〃Yes；〃　Carella　answered。
　〃You're　not　scared；　are　you？　They　won't　shoot　with　you　in　here；　it's　all　right。〃
　Carella　nodded。　He　was　not　scared。　It　was　only　。。。　he　felt　odd　all　at　once。　He　did　not　feel　like　a　cop。　Miranda　was　not　treating　him　as　if　he　were　a　cop。　Miranda　was　behaving　as　if　he　were　truly　a　priest；　a　person　he　could　talk　to；　relax　with。　He　wanted　to　say；　〃I'm　not　what　you　think；　Miranda！　Don't　show　yourself　to　me！〃　but　the　words　would　not　e。
　〃Boy；　this　has　been　murder；〃　Miranda　said。　〃Look；　I　didn't　ask　you　up　here　to　confess　to　you　or　nothing。　I　think　we　ought　to　get　that　straight。〃
　〃Then　why　did　you　ask　me　to　e　up？〃
　〃Well。。。〃　Miranda　shrugged。　He　seemed　like　a　young　kid　in　that　moment；　a　young　kid　who　is　about　to　tell　a　priest　that　he　took　off　a　girl's　underpants　on　the　roof。　Carella　kept　staring　at　him。　Miranda　held　the　。45　in　his　hand　loosely；　expecting　no　trouble　from　this　man　he　thought　was　a　priest；　embarrassed　because　he　was　about　to　reveal　something；　dishonorable　to　him。　〃I'll　put　it　to　you　straight；　Father；〃　he　said。　〃I　got　to　get　out　of　this　apartment。〃
　〃Yes？〃
　〃So　。。。　so　you're　going　to　take　me　out。〃
　〃I　am？〃
　Miranda　nodded。　〃I　know　that's　pretty　crumby。　But　I　got
　to　get　out　of　here。〃…〃Where　do　you　go　from　here；　Pepe？〃
　〃I　don't　know。〃　Miranda　shook　his　head。　〃You　know；　Father；　you　reach　the　point　where　。。。　where　there　ain't　many　places　left　to　go。〃　He　laughed　nervously。　〃Where。。。〃　He　laughed　again。　〃I　don't　know。　I　don't　know　where　I'll　go　once　I　get　out　of　here。〃
　〃There're　a　lot　of　cops　out　there；　Pepe。〃
　〃Yeah；　I　know。〃　He　sighed。　〃Man；　this　kind　of　stuff　。。。　I　hate　this　kind　of　Public　Enemy　Number　One　stuff；　you　dig？　I　just　hate　it。　Oh　man；　it's　like　。。。　like　something　is　expected　of　me；　you　know　what　I　mean？　I've　got　to　be　the　bad　guy。　I　don't　know　if　it　makes　any　sense　to　you；　Father。〃
　〃I'm　not　sure　it　does；〃　Carella　answered；　puzzled。
　〃Well；　like　。。。　like　there　are　sides。　I'm　the　bad　guy。〃　He　shrugged。　〃I've　always　been　the　bad　guy。　Ever　since　I　was　a　kid。　So　I'm　still　the　bad　guy。　They　expect　me　to　be　the　bad　guy。　The　people；　I　mean。　It's　like　。。。　I　don't　know　if　I　can　explain　this。　It's　like　sometimes　I　don't　know　who　is　the　real　Pepe　Miranda；　and　who　is　the　guy　I　。。。　the　pictures　of　the　guy；　you　follow？　The　various　pictures　of　the　guy。〃
　〃I　don't　know　what　you　mean；〃　Carella　said。
　〃The　pictures；〃　Miranda　repeated。　〃Like　the　cops　have　a　picture　of　me。〃　He　chuckled。　〃It's　got　a　number　right　across　the　face　of　it。〃　He　chuckled　again。　〃And　the　people　in　the　street　got　another　picture　of　me。　And　the　kids　got　a　picture。　And　you　got　a　picture。　But　they're　all　different　pictures；　and　none　of　them　are　really　me；　Pepe　Miranda。〃
　〃Then　who　is？〃　Carella　asked。
　〃I　don't　know。〃
　〃You've　killed　people；　Pepe。〃
　〃Yeah。〃　He　paused。　〃I　know。〃　He　shrugged；　but　it　was　not　a　shrug　of　indifference；　not　a　shrug　which　said；　〃So　I　killed　r　people；　so　what？〃　If　it　had　been　that；　Carella　would　have　instantly　felt　like　a　cop　again。　But　it　was　not　that。　It　was　simply　a　shrug　which　said；　〃I　know　I've　killed　people；　but　I　don't　know　why；〃　and　so　Carella　still　felt　like　a　man　who　had　e　up　here　to　talk　to　Miranda；　not　to　harm　him。
　〃Well；　anyway；〃　Miranda　said；　〃I've　got　to　get　out　of　here。〃
　〃Because　the　people　in　the　street　expect　it？〃　Carella　asked。
　〃No。　No；　I　don't　think　that's。。。〃
　〃Then　why？〃
　〃Well。。。〃　Miranda　sighed　heavily。　〃I　ain't　got　a　chance；　Father；〃　he　said　simply。
　〃Then　give　up。〃
　〃Why？　Go　to　jail？　Maybe　the　electric　chair　if　that　woman　dies？　Don't　you　see？　I　got　nothing　to　lose。〃
　He　recognized　in　an　instant　that　Miranda　was　absolutely　right。　Moreover；　if　Carella　were　in　his　position；　in　this　apartment；　surrounded　by　policemen；　facing　either　a　lifelong　jail　sentence　or　death　in　the　electric　chair；　he　would　undoubtedly　react　in　exactly　the　way　that　Miranda　was　reacting。　He　would　try　to　get　out　of　that　apartment　by　fair　means　or　foul。　He　would　try　to　escape。
　〃Well。。。〃　he　said；　and　he　fell　silent。
　The　two　men　faced　each　other。
　〃You　see　what　I　m