p&c.brimstone-第23部分
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through the gap； lost them on the highway； flagged down a car。 It let me off at the next exit； but I couldn't get a cab and had to walk the thirty blocks back down。 Sticking to the shadows the whole way； watching out for that Impala…it took quite some time。〃
Pendergast nodded again。 〃So one of the men followed you onto the subway； the other drove the car。 They reconnected and tried to cut you off。〃
〃That's how I figured it。 An old trick。〃
〃Did you return fire？〃
〃Lot of good it did me。〃
〃Ah！ And your vaunted shooting ability？〃
D'Agosta looked down。 〃Little rusty。〃
〃The question is； who sent them？〃
〃It seemed to happen awful damn fast after I got Bullard stirred up。〃
〃Perhaps too fast。〃
〃Bullard didn't look like the kind of guy who would wait。 He's the decisive type。〃
Pendergast nodded。
Throughout this recitation； the young woman had listened politely。 Now she rose from the couch。 〃With your permission； I'll leave you to discuss this matter amongst yourselves。〃 She had a precise； mannered way of speaking； and a faint accent that for some reason reminded D'Agosta of old black…and…white movies。 She came over and kissed Pendergast lightly on the cheek。 〃Good night； Aloysius。〃 Then she turned toward D'Agosta and nodded。 〃A pleasure to make your acquaintance； Sergeant。〃
A moment later the door to the library closed； and silence fell。
〃Ward； huh？〃 said D'Agosta。
Pendergast nodded。
〃Where'd she e from？〃
〃I inherited her with the house。〃
〃How the heck do you 'inherit' someone？ She a relative？〃
〃Not a relative。 It's rather plicated。 This house and its collections were passed down to me from my great…uncle Antoine。 She was discovered in the house by an acquaintance of mine who cataloged the mansion's collections during the summer。 She'd been hiding here。〃
〃For how long？〃
There was a pause。 〃A good while。〃
〃What is she； a runaway？ Doesn't she have family？〃
〃She's an orphan。 My great…uncle had taken her in； looked after her welfare； educated her。〃
〃Yeah？ He sounds like a saint。〃
〃Hardly。 As it happens； Constance was the only person he ever cared for。 In fact； he continued caring for her long after he'd stopped caring even about himself。 He was a misanthrope； but she was the exception that proved his rule。 In any case； it seems I'm her only family now。 But I must ask you not to mention any of this in her presence。 The last six months have been exceptionally 。 。 。 trying for her。〃
〃How so？〃
〃That is something better left in the past。 Suffice it to say； Vincent； that Constance is the innocent beneficiary of a set of diabolical experiments conducted long ago。 Seeing how her own family was victimized early on by those experiments； I feel bound to look after her well…being。 It's a plication I certainly did not anticipate。 However； her knowledge of this house and its library is proving invaluable。 She will make an excellent research assistant and curator。〃
〃At least she's not hard to look at。〃 When he felt Pendergast's un…amused gaze on him D'Agosta cleared his throat and added hastily； 〃How did your own interviews go？〃
〃Montcalm could add little to what we already know。 He was away until yesterday； traveling。 It seems that Grove left a frantic message with his assistant：How does one break a contract with the devil？ The assistant threw the note away…apparently Montcalm is a magnet for cranks and gets many such messages。 He could add nothing else。 Fosco； on the other hand； proved to be most interesting。〃
〃I hope you really sweated him。〃
〃I'm not sure who sweated who。〃
D'Agosta could not imagine anyone sweating Pendergast。 〃Is he involved？〃
〃That depends on what you mean by involved。 He is a remarkable man； and his recollections proved to be invaluable。〃
〃Well； the jury's still out on both Cutforth and Bullard。〃
〃You said Cutforth was a liar； as well as Bullard。 How do you know？〃
〃He told me Grove had called him in the middle of the night； wishing to buy some piece of rock memorabilia。 I bluffed him by saying Grove hated rock music。 His look gave him away immediately。〃
〃A crude lie。〃
〃He's a crude man； and pretty stupid to boot。 I imagine he's good at what he does； though； given all the dough he's made。〃
〃Intelligence； culture； and education are not qualities generally associated with the popular music business。〃
〃Well； Bullard's on another level。 He's crude； too； but highly intelligent。 I wouldn't underestimate him。 The fact is they both know a lot more about Grove's death than they're telling。 We can crack Cutforth； I'm pretty sure…he's a wuss…but Bullard's going to be a tough nut。〃
Pendergast nodded。 〃The forensic report on Grove's body should be ready tomorrow。 That may give us badly needed information。 The critical thing now is to find the connection between Bullard； Cutforth； and Grove。 If we find that connection； Vincent； we'll have the key to this entire mystery。〃
17
Dr。 Jack Dienphong cast his eye about his laboratory： examiningthe metal tables； the chemical hoods and glove boxes； microscopes； SEMs； microtomes； and titration setups。 It wasn't pretty； but it was organized and functional。 Dienphong was chief of the FBI's Forensic Science Division on Congress Street； and he was very curious to meet…at last…this Special Agent Pendergast he had heard so much about。
He glanced down at the scribbled index card in his hand； running through his notes one more time。 Most of it was in his head： the index card was more for fort than anything else。 He felt a disquieting sense of apprehension。 He didn't like what he was going to have to report； and he just hoped the famous…some said infamous…agent would understand。 In Dienphong's opinion； the worst mistake one could make in forensic chemistry was to overinterpret results。 Do that enough times； and eventually you'd send an innocent man to prison。 It was Dienphong's greatest fear。 He wouldn't stretch results for anyone； not even someone as formidable as Pendergast。
There was a stir at the door； and Dienphong glanced at his watch。 On time almost to the second； already confirming one thing he'd heard Pendergast was famous for。 A moment later the door opened； and a slender man in a black suit entered； followed by Special Agent in Charge Carlton； chief of the Southern District Field Office； and a hushed group of junior agents and assistants。 There was an almost palpable excitement in the air； the kind of excitement high…profile cases always generated。 And only a high…profile case like this would bring somebody like Carlton in on a Sunday。 All the pertinent evidence had been forwarded to the FBI by local police for in…depth analysis。 And now it was up to Dienphong to piece everything together for them。 His feeling of apprehension did not diminish。
Dienphong observed the stranger carefully。 Pendergast was just as people had described him； moving with the efficiency and grace of a cat。 His hair was so blond it was almost white； his face cool and patrician； his pale eyes restlessly taking in everything。 Dienphong had met many FBI agents in his time； but this one was in another category altogether。
Those ice cool eyes alighted on Dienphong； and the agent came striding over。 〃Dr。 Dienphong；〃 the man said in the buttery tones of the Deep South。
〃A pleasure。〃 Dienphong took the dry hand。
〃I thought your piece in theJournal of Forensics on the maturation rate of blowfly larvae in the human cadaver to be fine reading。〃
〃Thank you。〃 He hadn't quite thought of the article as 〃fine reading〃 himself； but then each to his own。 Dienphong's idea of fine reading was Johnson'sRambler essays。
〃The presentation is all ready；〃 he said； gesturing toward a double row of metal chairs set up before a projection screen。 〃We're going to begin with a brief visual presentation。〃
〃Excellent。〃
The agents seated themselves with murmurs； coughing； and scraping of chairs。 Special Agent in Charge Carlton took up position in the front row center； his thick thighs spilling off the edges of the seat。
Dienphong nodded toward his assistant and the lights dimmed。 He switched on the puter projector。
〃Please feel free to interrupt with
