dk.watchers-第60部分

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　〃Maybe　not；〃　Travis　said。　〃But　as　soon　as　they　connect　me　to　Nora　and　both　of　us　to　you；　they'll　be　watching　you　closely。　As　soon　as　that　happens　。　。　。　then　the　next　time　we　call；　you'll　have　to　tell　us　at　once；　so　we　can　hang　up　and　break　off　all　contact　with　you。〃
　〃I　understand　perfectly；〃　the　attorney　said。
　〃Garrison；〃　Nora　said；　〃you　don't　have　to　involve　yourself　in　this。　We're　really　asking　too　much　of　you。〃
　〃Listen；　my　dear；　I'm　almost　seventy…one。　I　still　enjoy　my　law　practice；　and　I　still　go　sailing　。　。　。　but　in　truth　I　find　life　a　bit　on　the　dull　side　these　days。　This　affair　is　just　what　I　need　to　get　my　ancient　blood　flowing　faster。　Besides；　I　do　believe　you　have　an　obligation　to　help　keep　Einstein　free；　not　just　for　the　reasons　you　mentioned　but　because　。　。　。　mankind　has　no　right　to　employ　its　genius　in　the　creation　of　another　intelligent　species；　then　treat　it　like　property。　If　we've　e　so　far　that　we　can　create　as　God　creates；　then　we　have　to　learn　to　act　with　the　justice　and　mercy　of　God。　In　this　case；　justice　and　mercy　require　that　Einstein　remain　free。〃
　Einstein　raised　his　head　from　the　attorney's　lap；　gazed　up　admiringly；　then　nuzzled　his　cold　nose　under　Garrison's　chin。
　　
　　In　the　three…car　garage；　Garrison　kept　a　new　black　Mercedes　560　SEL；　an　older　white　Mercedes　500　SEL　with　pale…blue　interior；　and　a　green　Jeep　that　he　used　primarily　to　drive　down　to　the　marina；　where　he　kept　his　boat。
　〃The　white　one　used　to　belong　to　Francine；　my　wife；〃　the　attorney　said　as　he　led　them　to　the　car。　〃I　don't　use　it　much　any　more；　but　I　keep　it　in　Working　order；　and　I　drive　it　often　enough　to　prevent　the　tires　from　disintegrating。　I　should　have　gotten　rid　of　it　when　Franny　died。　It　was　her　car；　after　all。　But　。　。　。　she　loved　it　so；　her　flashy　white　Mercedes；　and　I　can　remember　the　way　she　looked　when　she　was　behind　the　wheel　。　。　。　I'd　like　you　to　take　it。〃
　〃A　sixty…thousand…dollar　getaway　car？〃　Travis　said；　sliding　one　hand　along　the　polished　hood。　〃That's　going　on　the　run　in　style。〃
　〃No　one　will　be　looking　for　it；〃　Garrison　said。　〃Even　if　they　do　eventually　connect　me　with　you　two；　they　won't　know　I've　given　you　one　of　my　cars。〃
　〃We　can't　accept　something　this　expensive；〃　Nora　said。
　〃Call　it　a　loan；〃　the　attorney　told　her。　〃When　you're　finished　with　it；　when　you've　gotten　another　car；　just　park　this　one　somewhere…a　bus　terminal；　an　airport…and　give　me　a　call　to　tell　me　where　it　is。　I　can　send　someone　to　collect　it。〃
　Einstein　put　his　forepaws　on　the　driver's　door　of　the　Mercedes　and　peered　into　the　car　through　the　side　window。　He　glanced　at　Travis　and　Nora　and　woofed　as　if　to　say　he　thought　they　would　be　foolish　if　they　turned　down　such　an　offer。
　　　
　9
　With　Travis　driving；　they　left　Garrison　Dilworth's　house　at　ten…fifteen　Wednesday　night　and　took　Route　101　north。　By　twelve…thirty　they　passed　through　San　Luis　Obispo；　went　by　Paso　Robles　at　one　o'clock　in　the　morning。　They　stopped　for　gasoline　at　a　self…service　station　at　two　o'clock；　an　hour　south　of　Salinas。
　Nora　felt　useless。　She　was　not　even　able　to　spell　Travis　at　the　wheel　because　she　did　not　know　how　to　drive。　To　some　extent；　that　was　Violet　Devon's　fault；　not　Nora's；　just　one　more　result　of　a　lifetime　of　seclusion　and　oppression；　nonetheless；　she　felt　utterly　useless　and　was　displeased　with　herself。　But　she　was　not　going　to　remain　helpless　the　rest　of　her　life。　Damn　it；　no。　She　was　going　to　learn　to　drive　and　to　handle　firearms。　Travis　could　teach　her　both　skills。　Given　his　background；　he　could　also　instruct　her　in　the　martial　arts；　judo　or　karate。　He　was　a　good　teacher。　He　had　certainly　done　a　splendid　job　of　teaching　her　the　art　of　lovemaking。　That　thought　made　her　smile；　and　slowly　her　highly　self…critical　mood　abated。
　For　the　next　two　and　a　half　hours；　as　they　drove　north　to　Salinas　and　then　on　to　San　Jose；　Nora　dozed　fitfully。　When　not　sleeping；　she　took　fort　in　the　empty　miles　they　were　putting　behind　them。　On　both　sides　of　the　highway；　vast　stretches　of　farmland　seemed　to　roll　on　to　infinity　under　the　frost…pale　light　of　the　moon。　When　the　moon　set；　they　drove　long　stretches　in　unrelieved　darkness　before　spotting　an　occasional　light　at　a　farm　or　a　cluster　of　roadside　businesses。
　The　yellow…eyed　thing　had　tracked　Einstein　from　the　Santa　Ana　foothills　in　Orange　County　to　Santa　Barbara…a　distance　of　more　than　one　hundred　and　twenty…five　air　miles；　Travis　had　said；　and　probably　close　to　three　hundred　miles　on　foot　in　the　wilds…in　three　months。　Not　a　fast　pace。　So　if　they　went　three　hundred　air　miles　north　from　Santa　Barbara　before　finding　a　place　to　hole　up　in　the　San　Francisco　Bay　area；　maybe　the　stalker　would　not　reach
　them　for　seven　or　eight　months。　Maybe　it　would　never　reach　them。　Over　how　great　a　distance　could　it　sniff　out　Einstein？　Surely；　there　were　limits　to　its　uncanny　ability　to　track　the　dog。　Surely。
　　
　10
　At　eleven　o'clock　Thursday　morning；　Lemuel　Johnson　stood　in　the　master　bedroom　of　the　small　house　that　Travis　Cornell　had　rented　in　Santa　Barbara。　The　dresser　mirror　had　been　smashed。　The　rest　of　the　room　had　been　trashed　as　well；　as　if　The　Outsider　had　been　driven　into　a　jealous　rage　upon　seeing　that　the　dog　lived　in　domestic　fort　while　it　was　forced　to　roam　the　wildlands　and　live　in　paratively　primitive　conditions。
　In　the　debris　that　covered　the　floor；　Lem　found　four　silver…framed　photographs　that　had　probably　stood　on　the　dresser　or　nightstands。　The　first　was　of　Cornell　and　an　attractive　blonde。　By　now　Lem　had　learned　enough　about　Cornell　to　know　that　the　blonde　at　his　side　must　be　his　late　wife；　Paula。　Another　photo；　a　black…and…white　shot　of　a　man　and　woman；　was　old　enough　that　Lem　guessed　the　people　smiling　at　the　camera　were　Cornell's　parents。　The　third　was　of　a　young　boy；　about　eleven　or　twelve；　also　black…and…white；　also　old；　which　might　have　been　a　shot　of　Travis　Cornell　himself　but　which　was　more　likely　a　picture　of　the　brother　who　had　died　young。
　The　last　of　the　four　photos　was　of　ten　soldiers　grouped　on　what　appeared　to　be　the　wooden　steps　in　front　of　a　barracks；　grinning　at　the　camera。　One　of　the　ten　was　Travis　Cornell。　And　on　a　couple　of　their　uniforms；　Lem　noticed　the　distinctive　patch　of　Delta　Force；　the　elite　antiterrorist　corps。
　Uneasy　about　that　last　photograph；　Lem　put　it　on　the　dresser　and　headed　back　toward　the　living　room；　where　Cliff　was　continuing　to　sift　through　bloodstained　rubble。　They　were　looking　for　something　that　would　mean　nothing　to　the　police　but　might　be　extremely　meaningful　to　them。
　The　NSA　had　been　slow　to　pick　up　on　the　Santa　Barbara　killing；　and　Lem　had　not　been　alerted　until　almost　six　o'clock　this　morning。　As　a　result；　the　press　had　already　reported　the　grisly　details　of　Ted　Hockney's　murder。　They　were　enthusiastically　disseminating　wild　speculations　about　what　might　have　killed　Hockney；　focusing　primarily　on　the　theory　that　Cornell　kept　some　kind　of　exotic　and　dangerous　pet；　perhaps　a　cheetah　or　panther；　and　that　the　animal　had　attacked　the　unsuspecting　landlord　when　he　had　let　himself　into　the　house。　The　TV　cameras　had　lingered　lovingly　on　the　shredded　and　blood　spattered　books。　It　was　National　Enquirer　stuff；　which　did　not　surprise　Lem　because　he　believed　the　line　separating　sensational　tabloids　like　the　Enquirer　and　the　so…called　〃legitimate〃　press…especially　electronic　news　media…was　often　thinner　than　most　journalists　cared　to　admit。
　He　had　already　planned　and　put　into　operation　a　disinformation　campaign　to　reinforce　the　press's　wrongheaded　hysteria　about　jungle　cats　on　the　loose。　NSA…paid　informants　would　e　forth；　claiming　to　know　Cornell；　and　would
　vouch　that　he　did；　indeed；　keep　a　panther　in　the　house　in　addition　to　a　dog。　Others　who　had　never　met　Cornell　would；　in　identifying　themselves　as　his　friends；　sorrowfully　report　that　they　had　urged　him　to　have　the　panther　defanged　and　declared　as　it　had　reached　maturity。　Police　would　want　to　question　Cornell…and　the　unidentified　woman…regarding　the　panther　and　its　current　whereabouts。
　Lem　was　confident　the　press　would　be　nicely　deflected　from　all　inquiries　that　might　lead　them　closer　to　the　truth。
　Of　course；　down　in　Orange　County；　Walt　Gaines　would　hear　about　this　murder；　would　make　friendly　inquiries　with　local　authorities　here；　and　would　swiftly　conclude　that　The　Outsider　had　tracked　the　dog　this　far　north。　Lem　was　relieved　that　he　had　Walt's　cooperation。
　Entering　the　living　room；　where　Cliff　Soames　was　at　work；　Lem　said；　〃Find　anything？〃
　The　young　agent　rose　from　the　debris；　dusted　his　hands　together；　and　said；　〃Yeah。　I　put　it　on　the　dining…room　table。〃
　Lem　followed　him　into　the　dining　room；　where　a　fat　ring…binder　notebook　was　the　only　item　on　the　table。　When　he　opened　it　and　leafed　through　the　contents；　he　saw　photographs　that　had　been　cut　from　glossy　magazines　and　taped　to　the　left…hand　pages。　Opposite　each　photo；　on　the　right…hand　page；　was　the　name　of　the　pictured　object　printed　in　large　block　letters：　TREE；　HOUSE；　CAR。。。
　〃What　do　you　make　of　it？〃　Cliff　asked。
　Scowling；　saying　nothing；　Lem　continued　to　leaf　through　the　book；　knowing　it　was　important　but　at　first　unable　to　guess　why。　Then　it　hit　him：　〃It's　a　primer。　To　teach　reading。〃
　〃Yeah；〃　Cliff　said。
　Lem　saw　that　his　assistant　was　smiling。　〃You　think　they　must　know　the　dog's　intelligent；　that　it　must've　revealed　its　abilities　to　them？　And　so　they　。　。　。　decided　to　teach　it　to　read？〃
　〃Looks　that　way；〃　Cliff　said；　still　smiling。　〃Good　God；　do　you　think　it's　possible？　Could　it　be　taught　to　read？〃
　〃Undoubtedly；〃　Lem　said。　〃In　fact；　teaching　it　to　read　was　on　Dr。　Weatherby's　schedule　of　experiments　for　this　autumn。〃
　Laughing　softly；　wonderingly；　Cliff　said；　〃I'll　be　damned。〃
　〃Before　you　get　too　much　of　a　kick　out　of　it；〃　Lem　said；　〃you　better　consider　the　situation。　This　guy　knows　the　dog　is　amazingly　smart。　He　might've　succeeded　in　teaching　it　to　read。　So　we　have　to　figure　he's　worked　out　a　means　of　municating　with　it　as　well。　He　knows　it's　an　experimental　animal。　He　must　know　a　lot　of　people　are　looking　for　it。〃
　Cliff　said；　〃He　must　know　about　The　Outsider；　too；　because　the　dog　would　have　found　a　way　of　telling　him。〃
　〃Yes。　Yet；　knowing　all　of　this；　he　hasn't　chosen　to　go　public。　He　could've