gns.cannibalcult-第16部分
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'I see。' There was a flicker of suspicion for a second in Daunay's piercing eyes。 'I remember your brother Quentin； Sabat！'
Sabat felt his stomach constricting； the blood draining from his face； rasping laughter somewhere inside him。 'I killed him。 He was as evil as Nevillon。'
'Quite so。 I； too； was on his trail。 I found the body in that grave in the mountains。 There was evidence of necromantic rites in the clearing； some peasant corpses that had been interred in unconsecrated ground and then exhumed by your brother。 Quentin's body was unrecognisable； his head blown apart by revolver bullets。 I wasn't sure which of the Sabats it was。 It might have been you； my friend； murdered by your brother Quentin still free。 You killed him； however； and did the world a favour。 But； Sabat； do you realise exactly what your devilish brother was doing with those bodies？'
'Attempting to raise the dead in much the same way that in Haiti the bocors and houngans have zombies to trade as cheap labour。'
'No； my friend； nothing quite so simple。 Quentin Sabat was an associate of Louis Nevillon。 Together they were addicted to human meat and had already conspired to spread cannibalism throughout the world。 Your brother had buried those peasants whom he had murdered in the same way that a hunter buries his venison； in order to bring out the flavour in the flesh。 Those graves were his larderr
Sabat almost threw up； clutching at the seat with hands that trembled。 He knew that Daunay spoke the truth； the detective had no reason to lie。 Suddenly it all fitted together； a jigsaw that had been scattered for years and was now being slotted into place。 Quentin had been a friend of Louis Nevillon's； who in turn had Marie Boulle as his mistress。 A nest of cannibals。 Now Quentin lived again in the body of Sabat； who had also feasted on human flesh。 He was as bad as the others。 But once you kill Pieter Daunay your secret will be safe！
'I will take you to their hideout tonight。' Sabat spoke slowly； tried to harness his shocked and reeling senses。
'Good；' Daunay smiled。 'By the way； a mongol child was kidnapped in Zurich yesterday afternoon。 I have reason to believe that the cult was responsible for this。 If I am correct then the boy is already dead。'
'They ate him！' Not just a statement； a confession。
'Andrew！' Accusing eyes that would detect the slightest lie。
'Myself； too。 I had no choice； Pieter； believe me。'
'I believe you。'
'This man Andre Schmid；' Sabat said。 'A hippy mune leader but so powerful。 Almost as powerful as。。。 as Louis Nevillon。'
'Not quite； but he will be。' The Witchfinder's eyes narrowed； his tanned plexion seemed to pale。 'But if the Nevillon legend is true； then of those who devour his flesh one of them will bee the Beast of France。 Apart from the sheer revulsion of it I； for one； would not care to be partaking of that unholy banquet on Walpurgisnacht。 As for Schmid。。。 well； he also has much to answer for。 A left…wing terrorist； he has diversified from car…bombs and such things to an alliance with the dark powers and they appear to have accepted him as a disciple。 Pray God； Sabat； that we shall be in time to prevent this Walpurgisnacht feast； for if it es about the ultimate in evil will result； a coalition of malevolence in hell and on earth。 A n unstoppable power will be unleashed on the world and cannibalism will spread with the rapidity of a contagious plague？
Sabat was waiting on the Schweizeshof beside Lake Lucerne as the sinking evening sun turned the waters a rich golden colour。 So peaceful； it was impossible to believe that the ing night held such perils。 He sauntered casually； watching every blue Peugeot that came along。 Every other car on the road tonight seemed to be a Peugeot。 Eventually one of them would draw into the kerb and Pieter Daunay would be behind the wheel。
And the Witchfinder must be killed！ Not just because Andre Schmid and Madeleine Gaufridi （Sabat still preferred to think of her by her first name； remember their meeting up on the Jungfrau when she displayed all the innocence of a young nun fleeing from her own conscience） demanded it。 But because that was the only way Quentin Sabai's unholy secret could be protected 。。。
His anger mounted； a seething fury that had his whole body trembling； his vision a distorted red haze so that he was scarcely aware of the blue Peugeot gliding into the kerb； the hunchbacked driver reaching behind to open the rear door。
Just another driver offering a pedestrian a lift； something that happened a hundred times a day in Lucerne and elsewhere。 The car pulled away； edged into the steady stream of traffic。
Sabat's fury simmered； his eyes riveted on the humped figure behind the wheel。 An enemy； a dangerous one； one who had already meddled in the affairs of his family。 He had to be eliminated； but not right now。
Sabat got his anger under control； a time…bomb ticking away inside him。 He could easily have made an excuse and got Daunay to stop the car； shot him and dragged him into the forest which bordered the road。 For a number of reasons he bided his time。 A slight hesitancy； but he would expel that before they reached the mountains； he did not even understand why he was uncertain。 He had no conscience where killing was concerned。 Secondly； he wanted to present Madeleine and Andre Schmid with undoubted proof that he had carried out his assignment。 A kind of personal pride in his own ruthless efficiency。
Sabat stroked the butt of his revolver in its holster beneath his coat； gave a sigh of satisfaction and nestled himself fortably in a corner of the back seat
Pieter Daunay changed down to second gear and the Peugeot began the ascent of the steep mountain road； entering a land of darkness where unspeakable evil lurked。
Sabat smiled to himself。 Soon it would be time to kill。
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE ROAD was rising very steeply now； a 1：4 gradient。 The Peugeot's engine stuttered； picked up again。 Pieter Daunay's hand rested on the gear lever； ready to change down to bottom。
'How much further？' he grunted； the first time either of them had spoken since the suburbs of Lucerne had fallen away behind them； its lights shielded by the dark mountain forests； just a faint orange glow in the night sky behind。
'Not far。' There was a sudden eagerness about Sabat's voice。' Somewhere on the left after this next bend。 Slow down or you'll miss it。 It's only a gap in the trees but there's a track leading up from it。 We'd better pull off the road there and go the rest of the way on foot； otherwise they'll hear the engine and see the lights。'
The only sign that Daunay had heard was that he braked； slowed down to 20 k。p。h；； head turned to the left； searching for the concealed track amidst the trees。
'There it is。'
The Frenchman swung the wheel over； the tyres sinking into the soft grass； starting to spin。 The Peugeot slewed； nearly struck a tree。 Reversing； almost getting stuck； a narrow angle but eventually the car finished up pointing back the way it had e。 Engine and lights died； plunging everywhere into a sudden eerie black silence。
'It is best to caterfor all eventualities；' PieterDaunay said； easing open the door。 'Just in case we have to make a quick getaway； Sabat。'
Sabat hesitated； let his eyesight bee accustomed to the darkness of the forest。 A half moon and scudding clouds cast patches of faint silvery light； the shadows impenetrable as though they hid a thousand evils。 The silence hung heavy； not so much as a rustling of a tiny nocturnal creature。 Tonight everything was afraid to venture forth；
'Lead the way；' Daunay's whisper was terse。 'I am right behind you。*
Sabat moved； his SAS training taking over； a shadow that glided and merged with the other shadows。 The flesh on the back of his neck prickled for a multitude of reasons。 Daunay was as dangerous as he was himself and he would have preferred to have his panion where he could see him。 However； to have suggested that the Frenchman lead the way would have been ridiculous and aroused suspicion。 This was truly a game of cat and mouse。
Daunay must be eliminated！ Quentin's reminder of his mission had Sabat's stomach tightening like it was being crushed in a bout of colic。 He would kill Daunay… but what then？ Just him and Madeleine and that awful corpse which had already begun to repair its guillotine mutilation。 Madeleine claimed Louis Nevillon would rise on Walpurgisnacht； that his body would not be eaten； that he would join them in an unholy； obscene； nauseating banquet。 Whose body would they eat then？
'How far？' Pieter Daunay was impatient。 Their feet had to be forcibly dragged from the treacly mud。 'Could we not walk through the forest？'
'I only know this way；' Sabat replied。 'We cannot risk being lost It should not be far now。'
They seemed to have been walking for hours but in reality it had probably been no more than twenty minutes； progress that was slow； pausing every few yards to listen…but there was only an unbroken silence。 As though these whole mountains were waiting for something to happen。
A bend in the track where a large pool of muddy rainwater had formed。 They skirted it； clutching at some overhanging prickly larch branches as they trod a precarious route along the grassy sides of the path。 Sabat's breathing was shallow； the clearing in which the old chapel stood was only a matter of twenty yards ahead of them。 He pulled up abruptly and Daunay bumped into him； almost slipped into the mud； cursed beneath his breath。 'What have you stopped for； Sabat？' 'We are almost there。 Another few yards and we shall see the chapel。' Sabat turned but Daunay was just an outline against the trees； his face bathed in shadow that hid his expression。
'Move on then。 Let us get it over and done with！' 'Pieter； we have not planned this far。 They may well know of our ing for their powers are extraordinary。 We could be walking into a trap。'
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