alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第16部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


barrassment　and　disfort　were　obvious；　but　I　knew　I'd　no　option；　the　time　to　stop　this　nonsense　was　before　ever　it　had　a　chance　to　start。
　
　〃You　stay　where　you　are；　young　lady；　and　drink　this。〃　She　took　the　cup　reluctantly；　and　I　turned　away。　〃You've　surely　forgotten；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg；　that　Helene　has　a　broken　collar…bone？〃
　
　The　expression　on　her　face　made　it　quite　obvious　that　she　hadn't　forgotten；　but　she　was　no　fool。　The　gossip　columnists　would　murder　her　for　this；　if　they　got　hold　of　it。　In　her　circle；　an　outward　if　meaningless　conformity　to　the　accepted　mores　and　virtues　of　the　day　was　a　sine　qua　non：　the　knife　between　the　ribs　was　permitted；　but　only　to　the　acpaniment　of　the　well…bred　smile。
　
　〃I'm　so　sorry；〃　she　said　sweetly。　〃I'd　quite　forgotten；　of　course。〃　Her　eyes　were　cold　and　hard；　and　I　knew　I　had　an　enemy。　That　didn't　worry　me；　but　I　found　the　very　triviality　of　the　whole　thing　irritating　beyond　measure　when　there　were　so　many　other　and　vastly　more　important　things　to　talk　about。　But　less　than　thirty　seconds　later　we　had　forgotten　all　about　it；　even；　I　am　sure；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　herself。
　
　I　was　just　handing　Marie　LeGarde　a　cup　when　someone　screamed。　It　wasn't　really　loud；　I　suppose；　but　in　that　confined　space　it　had　a　peculiarly　piercing　and　startling　quality。　Marie　LeGarde's　arm　jerked　violently　and　the　scalding　contents　of　the　coffee…cup　were　emptied　over　my　bare　hand。
　
　I　hardly　noticed　the　pain。　It　was　Margaret　Ross；　the　young　stewardess；　who　had　screamed；　and　she　was　now　kneeling；　half　in　and　half　out　of　her　sleeping…bag；　one　rigidly　spread…fingered　hand　stretched　out　at　arm's　length　before　her；　the　other　clasped　over　her　mouth　as　she　stared　down　at　the　figure　lying　near　her　on　the　floor。　I　pushed　her　to　one　side　and　sank　on　to　my　own　knees。
　
　In　that　bitter　cold　it　was　impossible　to　be　any　way　sure；　but　I　felt　reasonably　certain　that　the　young　pilot　had　been　dead　for　several　hours。　I　knelt　there　for　a　long　time；　just　looking　down　at　him；　and　when　I　finally　rose　to　my　feet　I　did　so　like　an　old　man；　a　defeated　old　man；　and　I　felt　as　cold；　almost；　as　the　dead　man　lying　there。　Everyone　was　wide　awake　now；　everyone　staring　at　me；　the　eyes　of　nearly　all　of　them　reflecting　the　superstitious　horror　which　the　presence　of　sudden　and　unexpected　death　brings　to　those　who　are　unaccustomed　to　it。　It　was　Johnny　Zagero　who　broke　the　silence。
　
　〃He's　dead；　isn't　he；　Dr　Mason？〃　His　low　voice　sounded　a　little　husky。　〃That　head　injury…〃　His　voice　trailed　off。
　
　〃Cerebral　haemorrhage；〃　I　said　quietly；　〃as　far　as　I　can　tell。〃
　
　I　lied　to　him。　There　was　no　shadow　of　doubt　in　my　mind　as　to　the　cause　of　death。　Murder。　The　young　boy　had　been　ruthlessly；　cold…bloodedly　murdered：　lying　there　unconscious；　gravely　injured　and　with　his　hands　strapped　helplessly　to　his　sides；　he　had　been　smothered　as　easily；　as　surely；　as　one　might　smother　a　very　little　child。
　
　We　buried　him　out　on　the　ice…cap；　not　fifty　yards　from　the　place　where　he　had　died。　Bringing　his　stiffened　body　out　of　the　hatch　was　a　grisly　job；　but　we　managed　it　and　laid　him　on　the　snow　while　we　sawed　out　a　shallow　grave　for　him　in　the　light　of　one　of　our　torches。　It　was　impossible　to　dig　it　out：　that　frozen　ringing　surface　turned　shovel　blades　as　would　a　bar　of　iron：　even　at　eighteen　inches；　the　impacted　ntvt　of　snow　and　ice　defied　the　serrated　spearpoints　of　our　special　snow　saws。　But　it　was　deep　enough　and　within　a　few　hours　the　eternal　ice…drift　would　have　smoothed　its　blanket　across　the　grave；　and　we　would　never　be　able　to　find　it　again。　The　Reverend　Joseph　Smallwood　murmured　some　sort　of　burial　service　over　the　grave　but　his　teeth　chattered　so　violently　in　the　cold　and　his　voice　was　so　low　and　indistinct　and　hurried　that　I　could　hardly　catch　a　word　of　it。　I　thought　wryly　that　heavenly　forgiveness　for　this　indecent　haste　was　unlikely　to　be　withheld：　by　all　odds　it　must　have　been　by　far　the　coldest　funeral　service　that　Mr　Smallwood　had　ever　conducted。
　
　Back　in　the　cabin；　breakfast　was　a　sketchy　and　silent　affair。　Even　in　the　steadily　rising　warmth；　the　melancholy　gloom　was　an　almost　palpable　blanket　under　the　dripping　ceiling。　Hardly　anybody　said　anything；　hardly　anybody　ate　anything。　Margaret　Ross　ate　nothing；　and　when　she　finally　set　down　her　coffee…cup；　the　contents　had　scarcely　been　touched。
　
　You're　overdoing　it；　my　dear；　I　thought　viciously；　you're　carrying　the　grief…stricken　act　just　a　little　too　far：　a　little　longer；　and　even　the　others　will　start　wondering…and　they　have　no　suspicions　at　all；　you　damned　inhuman　little　murderess。
　
　For　I　had　no　suspicions　either…only　certainty。　There　was　no　doubt　in　my　mind　at　all　but　that　she　had　smothered　the　young　pilot。　She'　was　only　slightly　built…but　then　it　would　have　required　only　slight　strength。　Lashed　to　the　cot　as　he　had　been；　he　wouldn't　even　have　been　able　to　drum　his　heels　as　he　had　died。　I　could　feel　my　flesh　crawl　at　the　very　thought。
　
　She　had　killed　him；　just　as　she　had　broken　the　radio　and　doped　the　passengers。　He　had　been　killed；　obviously；　to　keep　him　from　talking…about　what；　I　couldn't　even　begin　to　guess；　any　more　than　I　could　guess　the　reason　for　the　destruction　of　the　radio；　except　that　she　clearly　did　not　want　the　news　of　the　crash　broadcast　to　the　outer　world。　But　why　in　the　world　destroy　the　radio　in　the　first　place；　surely　she　must　have　known　how　essential　it　was　for　survival？　But　then；　after　all；　how　was　she　even　to　have　guessed　that：　she　might　well　have　thought　that　we　had　big　fast　tractors　that　could　have　whipped　them　down　to　the　coast　in　a　matter　of　a　couple　of　days。　For　that　matter；　she　might　have　thought　she　was　a　great　deal　nearer　the　coast　than　we　really　were　…it　was　impossible；　surely；　that　she　had　genuinely　imagined　that　we　were　in　Iceland。　Or　was　it？
　
　My　thoughts　were　spinning　now　in　an　unbreakable　circle。　I　knew　I　was　getting　nowhere；　couldn't　possibly　get　anywhere　without　some　fresh　information。　As　it　was；　I　was　only　confusing　myself　the　more　with　the　passing　of　every　moment。　I　gave　it　up　then；　promising　myself　that　from　now　on　I　would　watch　her　every　possible　minute　of　the　day。　I　looked　at　her　again；　covertly；　and　she　was　staring　vacantly　at　one　of　the　glowing　embers　of　the　stove。　Planning　her　next　move；　no　doubt；　planning　it　as　cleverly　as　the　last：　asking　me　last　night　about　the　pilot's　chances　of　survival；　doubtless　to　decide　whether　he　would　have　to　be　killed　or　could　safely　be　left　to　die；　had　been　clever　enough；　but　insisting　on　sleeping　next　to　the　man　she　had　meant　to　kill　had　been　nothing　short　of　brilliant。　On　that　account　alone　no　one　would　ever　suspect　her；　even　if　the　fact　that　it　had　been　murder　became　known。　And　it　wouldn't：　I　intended　keeping　that　to　myself。　Or　did　she　suspect　I　suspected？　Heaven　only　knew。　All　I　knew　was　that　she　must　be　playing　for　tremendous　stakes。　Or　that　she　was　mad。
　
　It　was　just　after　eleven　o'clock。　Joss　and　Jackstraw　were　in　a　corner　by　themselves；　stripping　down　the　smashed　transmitter；　while　the　rest　were　grouped　in　a　large　semi…circle　round　the　stove。　They　looked　wan　and　sickly　and　were　sitting　very　still　indeed。　They　looked　unwell　because　the　first　greyness　of　the　noon　twilight　was　stealing　through　our　rimed　skylights　and　it　did　unflattering　things　to　any　plexion：　and　they　sat　so　still　because　I　had　just　explained　to　them　in　detail　exactly　what　their　situation　was；　and　they　didn't　like　it　one　little　bit。　Neither　did　I。
　
　〃Let's　get　this　quite　straight；　Dr　Mason。〃　Corazzini　leant　forward；　his　lean　brown　face　intent　and　serious。　He　was　worried　all　right；　but　he　wasn't　scared。　Corazzini　didn't　look　as　if　he　would　scare　easily：　I　had　the　idea　that　he　would　be　a　pretty　good　man　to　have　around。　〃The　others　left　here　three　weeks　ago　in　a　big　modern　Sno…Cat；　and　aren't　expected　back　for　another　three　weeks。　You've　overstayed　your　wele　on　the　ice…cap；　you　say；　and　things　have　been　cut　a　trifle　too　fine…you　had　already　started　rationing　yourselves　to　make　your　food　spin　out　until　they　returned。　With　thirteen　of　us　here　we　have　food　for　less　than　five　days。　Therefore　we　may　be　a　fortnight　without　food　before　they　return。〃　He　smiled；　but　there　was　no　humour　in　it。　〃My　arithmet