cb.imajica1-第26部分

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flesh；　that　he'd　almost　lost　the　trick　of　it。　But　Gentle's　desire　had　been　potent　enough　to　remind　him；　and　his　body　still　reverberated　with　echoes　of　their　time　together。　Though　it　had　ended　badly　he　didn't　regret　snatching　those　minutes。　Another　such　encounter　might　never　e。
　He　wandered　from　his　trailer　towards　the　perimeter　of　the　encampment。　The　first　light　of　dawn　was　beginning　to　eat　at　the　murk。　One　of　the　camp　mongrels；　back　from　a　night　of　adventuring；　squeezed　between　two　sheets　of　corrugated　iron　and　came　wagging　to　his　side。　He　stroked　the　dog's　snout　and　tickled　behind　its　battle…ravaged　ears；　wishing　he　could　find　his　way　back　to　his　home　and　master　so　easily。
　It　was　the　oft…stated　belief　of　Esmond　Bloom　Godolphin；　the　late　father　of　Oscar　and　Charles；　that　a　man　could　never　have　too　many　bolt　holes；　and　of　E。B。G。's　countless　saws　this　was　the　only　one　Oscar　had　been　significantly　influenced　by。　He　had　not　less　than　four　places　of　occupation　in　London。　The　house　in　Primrose　Hill　was　his　chief　residence；　but　there　was　also　a　pied…a…terre　in　Maida　Vale；　a　smallish　flat　in　Notting　Hill；　and　the　location　he　was　presently　occupying：　a　windowless　warehouse　concealed　in　a　maze　of　derelict　and　near…derelict　properties　near　the　river。
　It　was　not　a　place　he　was　particularly　happy　to　frequent；　especially　not　on　the　day　after　Christmas；　but　over　the　years　it　had　proved　a　secure　haven　for　Dowd's　two　associates；　the　voiders；　and　it　now　served　as　a　Chapel　of　Rest　for　Dowd　himself。　His　naked　corpse　lay　beneath　a　shroud　on　the　cold　concrete；　with　aromatic　herbs；　picked　and　dried　on　the　slopes　of　the　Jokalaylau；　smoldering　in　bowls　at　his　head　and　feet；　after　the　rituals　proscribed　in　that　region。　The　voiders　had　shown　little　interest　in　the　arrival　of　their　leader's　body。　They　were　functionaries；　incapable　of　anything　but　the　most　rudimentary　thought　processes。　They　had　no　physical　appetites：　no　desire；　no　hunger　or　thirst；　no　ambition。　They　simply　sat　out　the　days　and　nights　in　the　darkness　of　the　warehouse　and　waited　for　Dowd　to　instruct　them。　Oscar　was　less　than　fortable　in　their　pany；　but　could　not　bring　himself　to　leave　until　this　business　was　finished。　He'd　brought　a　book　to　read：　a　cricket　almanac　that　he　found　soothing　to　peruse。　Every　now　and　then　he'd　get　up　and　refuel　the　bowls。　Otherwise　there　was　little　to　do　but　wait。
　It　had　already　been　a　day　and　a　half　since　he'd　made　such　a　show　of　taking　Dowd's　life：　a　performance　of　which　he　was　justly　proud。　But　the　casualty　that　lay　before　him　was　a　real　loss。　Dowd　had　been　passed　down　the　line　of　Godolphins　for　two　centuries；　bound　to　them　until　the　end　of　time　or　of　Joshua's　line；　whichever　came　first。　And　he　had　been　a　fine　manservant。　Who　else　could　mix　a　whisky　and　soda　so　well？　Who　else　knew　to　dry　and　powder　between　Oscar's　toes　with　special　care；　because　he　was　prone　to　fungal　infections　there？　Dowd　was　irreplaceable；　and　it　had　pained　Oscar　considerably　to　take　the　brutal　measures　circumstance　had　demanded。　But　he'd　done　so　knowing　that　while　there　was　a　slim　possibility　that　he　would　lose　his　servant　forever；　an　entity　such　as　Dowd　could　survive　a　disemboweling　as　long　as　the　rituals　of　Resurrection　were　readily　and　precisely　followed。　Oscar　was　not　in　ignorance　of　those　rituals。　He'd　spent　many　lazy　Yzordderrexian　evenings　on　the　roof　of　Peccable's　house；　watching　the　tail　of　the　et　disappear　behind　the　towers　of　the　Autarch's　palace；　talking　about　the　theory　and　practice　of　Imajical　feits；　writs；　pneumas；　uredos；　and　the　rest。　He　knew　the　oils　to　pour　into　Dowd's　carcass；　and　what　blossoms　to　burn　around　the　body。　He　even　had　in　his　treasure　room　a　phonetic　version　of　the　ritual；　set　down　by　Peccable　himself；　in　case　Dowd　was　ever　harmed。　He　had　no　idea　how　long　the　process　would　take；　but　he　knew　better　than　to　peer　beneath　the　sheet　to　see　if　the　bread　of　life　was　rising。　He　could　only　bide　his　time　and　hope　he'd　done　all　that　was　necessary。
　At　four　minutes　past　four；　he　had　proof　of　his　precision。　A　choking　breath　was　drawn　beneath　the　sheet；　and　a　second　later　Dowd　sat　up。　The　motion　was　so　sudden；　and…　after　such　a　time…so　unexpected；　Oscar　panicked；　his　chair　tipping　over　as　he　rose；　the　almanac　flying　from　his　hand。　He'd　seen　much　in　his　time　that　the　people　of　the　Fifth　would　call　miraculous；　but　not　in　a　dismal　room　like　this；　with　the　monplace　world　grinding　on　its　way　outside　the　door。　posing　himself；　he　searched　for　a　word　of　wele；　but　his　mouth　was　so　dry　he　could　have　blotted　a　letter　with　his　tongue。　He　simply　stared；　gaping　and　amazed。
　Dowd　had　pulled　the　sheet　off　his　face　and　was　studying　the　hand　with　which　he'd　done　so；　his　face　as　empty　as　the　eyes　of　the　voiders　sitting　against　the　opposite　wall。
　I've　made　a　terrible　error；　Oscar　thought。　I've　brought　back　the　body；　but　the　soul's　gone　out　of　him：　Oh；　Christ；　what　now？
　Dowd　stared　on；　blankly。　Then；　like　a　puppet　into　which　a　hand　has　been　inserted；　bringing　the　illusion　of　life　and　independent　purpose　to　senseless　stuff；　he　raised　his　head；　and　his　face　filled　with　expression。　It　was　all　anger。　He　narrowed　his　eyes　and　bared　his　teeth　as　he　spoke。
　〃You　did　me　a　great　wrong；〃　he　said。　〃A　terrible　wrong。〃
　Oscar　worked　up　some　spittle；　thick　as　mud。　〃I　did　what　I　deemed　necessary；〃　he　replied；　determined　not　to　be　cowed　by　the　creature。　It　had　been　bound　by　Joshua　never　to　do　a　Godolphin　harm；　much　as　it　might　presently　wish　to。
　〃What　have　I　ever　done　to　you　that　you　humiliate　me　that　way？〃　Dowd　said。
　〃I　had　to　prove　my　allegiance　to　the　Tabula　Rasa。　You　understand　why。〃
　〃And　must　I　continue　to　be　humiliated？〃　he　said。　〃Can　I　not　at　least　have　something　to　wear？〃
　〃Your　suit's　stained。〃
　〃It's　better　than　nothing；〃　Dowd　replied。
　The　garments　lay　on　the　floor　a　few　feet　from　where　Dowd　sat；　but　he　made　no　move　to　pick　them　up。　Aware　that　Dowd　was　testing　the　limits　of　his　master's　remorse；　but　willing　to　play　the　game　for　a　while　at　least；　Oscar　picked　up　the　clothes　and　laid　them　within　Dowd's　reach。
　〃I　knew　a　knife　wasn't　going　to　kill　you；〃　he　said。
　〃It's　more　than　I　did；〃　Dowd　replied。　〃But　that's　not　the　point。　I　would　have　entered　the　game　with　you　if　that's　what　you'd　wanted。　Happily；　slavishly。　Entered　and　died　for　you。〃　His　tone　was　that　of　a　man　deeply　and　inconsola…Wy　affronted。　〃Instead；　you　conspire　against　me。　You　make　me　suffer　like　a　mon　criminal。〃
　〃I　couldn't　afford　for　it　to　look　like　a　charade。　If　they'd　suspected　it　was　stage…managed…〃
　〃Oh；　I　see；〃　Dowd　replied。　Unwittingly　Oscar　had　caused　even　greater　offense　with　this　justification。　〃You　didn't　trust　my　actorly　instincts。　I've　played　every　lead　Quexos　wrote：　edy；　tragedy；　farce。　And　you　didn't　trust　me　to　carry　off　a　petty　little　death　scene！〃
　〃All　right；　I　was　mistaken。〃
　〃I　thought　the　knife　stung　badly　enough。　But　this…〃
　〃Please；　accept　my　apologies。　It　was　crude　and　hurtful。　What　can　I　do　to　heal　the　harm；　eh？　Name　it；　Dowdy。　I　feel　I've　violated　the　trust　between　us　and　I　have　to　make　good。　Whatever　you　want；　just　name　it。〃
　Dowd　shook　his　head。　〃It's　not　as　easy　as　that。〃
　〃I　know。　But　it's　a　start。　Name　it。〃
　Dowd　considered　the　offer　for　a　full　minute；　staring　not　at　Oscar　but　the　blank　wall。　Finally；　he　said；　〃I'll　start　with　the　assassin；　Pie　'oh'　pah。〃
　〃What　do　you　want　with　a　mystif？〃
　〃I　want　to　torment　it。　I　want　to　humiliate　it。　And　finally；　I　want　to　kill　it。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃You　offered　me　whatever　I　wanted。　Name　it；　you　said。　I've　named　it。〃
　〃Then　you　have　carte　blanche　to　do　whatever　you　wish；〃　Oscar　said。　〃Is　that　all？〃
　〃For　now；〃　Dowd　said。　〃I'm　sure　something　more　will　occur。　Death's　put　some　strange　ideas　in　my　head。　But　I'll　name　them　as　time　goes　by。〃
　
　
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　While　it　was　to　prove　difficult　for　Gentle　to　prize　from　Es…tabrook　the　details　of　the　night　journey　that　had　taken　him　to　Pie　（oh'　pah；　it　was　not　as　difficult　as　getting　in　to　see　the　man　in　the　first　place。　He　went　to　the　house　around　noon；　to　find　the　curtains　at　all　the　windows　meticulously　drawn。　He　knocked　and　rang　the　bell　for　several　minutes；　but　there　was　no　reply。　Assuming　Estabrook　had　gone　out　for　a　constitutional；　he　left　off　his　attempt　and　went　to　find　something　to　put　into　his　stomach；　which　after　being　so　thoroughly　scorned　the　night　before　was　echoing　with　its　own　emptiness。　It　was　Boxing　Day；　of　course；　and　there　was　no　cafe　or　restaurant　open；　but　he　located　a　small　supermarket　managed　by　a　family　of　Pakistanis；　who　were　doing　a　fine　trade　supplying　Christians　with　stale　bread　to　break。　Though　the　stock　had　disappeared　from　many　of　the　shelves；　the　store　still　had　a　tempting　parade　of　tooth　decayers；　and　Gentle　left　with　chocolate；　biscuits；　and　cake　to　satisfy　his　sweet　tooth。　He　found　a　bench　and　sat　down　to　subdue　his　hunger。　The　cake　was　too　moist　and　heavy　for　his　taste；　so　he　broke　it　up　into　pieces　and　threw　it　to　the　pigeons　his　meal　had　attracted。　The　news　soon　spread　that　there　was　sustenance　to　be　had；　and　what　had　been　an　intimate　picnic　quickly　turned　into　a　squabbling　match。　In　lieu　of　loaves　and　fishes　to　subdue　the　mob；　Gentle　tossed　the　rest　of　his　biscuits　into　the　midst　of　the　feasters　and　returned　to　Estabrook's　house　content　with　his　chocolate。　As　he　approached　he　saw　a　motion　at　one　of　the　upper　windows。　He　didn't　bother　to　ring　and　knock　this　time；　but　simply　called　up　at　the　window。
　〃I　want　a　word；　Charlie！　I　know　you're　in　there。　Open　up！〃
　When　there　was　no　sign　of　Estabrook　obliging；　he　let　his　voice　ring　out　a　little　louder。　There　was　very　little　petition　from　traffic；　this　being　a　holiday。　His　call　was　a　clarion。
　〃e　on；　Charlie；　open　up；　unless　you　want　me　to　tell　the　neighbors　about　our　little　deal。〃
　The　curtain　was　drawn　aside　this　time；　and　Gentle　had　his　first　sight　of　Estabrook。　A　glimpse　only；　for　the　curtain　was　dropped　back　into　place　a　moment　later。　Gentle　waited；　and　just　as　he　was　about　to　start　his　haranguing　afresh　heard　the　front　door　being　unbolted。　Estabrook　appeared；　barefoot　and　bald。　The　latter　was　a　shock。　Gentle　hadn't　known　the　man　wore　a　toupe〃e。　Without　it　his　face　was　as　round　and　white　as　a　plate；　his　features　set　upon　it　like　a　child's　breakfast。　Eggs　for　eyes；　a　tomato　nose；　saus