lrh.fortuneoffear-第6部分

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　　　The　man　there　took　her　boarding　pass　and　urgently　pointed　at　the　plane。　Everybody　else　was　aboard。　But　the　Countess　Krak　turned。　She　seized　me　by　the　shoulders　and　right　through　her　veil　gave　me　a　kiss　on　the　cheek。
　　　〃Thank　you；　Soltan；〃　she　said。　〃I　appreciate　what　you　have　done。　You　are　a　good　man；　Soltan。〃
　　　She　turned　and　raced　over　to　the　plane；　and　sped　up　the　steps。　At　the　top　she　turned　and　waved　back　to　me。　Then　she　vanished　inside。
　　　I　stood　there；　very　uneasy　indeed。　On　the　surface　of　it；　getting　her　here；　getting　her　scars　removed　and　getting　her　on　her　way　to　see　the　man　she　loved　would　seem　to　merit　appreciation。　But　looking　only　at　the　surface　could　get　one　into　deep　trouble　in　dealing　with　the　Countess　Krak。　She　had　been　up　to　something。　That　burst　of　affection　was　so　unlike　her；　I　knew　down　to　the　roots　of　my　soul　that　it　boded　no　good。　Yes；　the　more　I　thought　of　it；　the　more　certain　I　became。　Some　horrible　trick　was　involved！　I　knew　her　too　well！　And　to　my　sorrow！
　　　The　plane　rumbled　away　to　the　takeoff　area　and　then；　with　a　roar；　rushed　down　the　runway　and　into　the　sky。
　　　I　was　not　out　of　the　woods　yet。　She　might　not　transfer　to　the　international　flight　at　Istanbul。　She　might　have　second　thoughts　and　e　back。
　　　The　taxi　rushed　me　back　to　the　hospital。　I　entered　the　interview　room　and　locked　the　door　behind　me。　I　unlocked　the　cabinet　and　got　out　the　viewer。

Chapter　4

　　　There　she　was　in　the　Turkish　Airlines　plane。　She　had　taken　off　the　veil。　The　stewardess　was　giving　her　coffee　and　a　small；　dried…out　roll。　She　took　the　little　tray　and　examined　it　minutely；　feeling　the　paper；　trying　to　read　the　label　on　the　sugar　cube…which　was　in　Turkish。　She　didn't　know　that　she　was　supposed　to　put　the　sugar　cube　in　the　coffee。　A　taste　of　the　beverage　did　not　meet　with　her　approval。　She　saw　a　passenger　ring　a　buzzer　and　get　the　stewardess　so　she　tried　it。　The　stewardess　came　over。
　　　〃This　is　awfully　bitter；〃　the　Countess　said　in　English。　〃Do　you　have　some　hot　jolt？〃
　　　Oh；　Gods。　Code　break！　But　it　wouldn't　have　done　any　good　to　brief　her。　She　would　just　have　said；　I'm　not　in　the　military！
　　　The　stewardess　looked　shocked。　〃We　usually　don't　serve　hard　liquor　on　the　early　morning　flight；　ma'am。〃
　　　〃But　this　is　so　bitter！〃
　　　〃Ah；〃　said　the　stewardess；　〃you　haven't　put　the　sugar　in。〃　She　opened　a　couple　of　cubes　and　dropped　them　in　the　cup。　She　must　have　thought　the　Countess　Krak　was　feebleminded。
　　　The　Countess　Krak　studied　the　blunt；　odd…shaped　knife。　She　must　have　decided　you　could　stir　with　it；　for　that　is　how　she　used　it。　Then　she　found　the　spoon　still　wrapped　up　in　the　napkin。　She　studied　that。　There　was　a　pat　of　butter　for　the　roll。　She　took　some　of　it　with　the　spoon　and　tasted　it　cautiously。　She　sipped　at　the　coffee。　Then　she　put　everything　back　down　on　the　tray。　She　muttered；　in　Voltarian；　〃Jettero　must　be　starving　to　death　on　this　planet！〃
　　　That　was　the　most　cheerful　thought　I　had　heard　all　day！　I　took　off　my　cap　and　got　out　of　my　bearskin　coat。　I　put　the　viewer　on　the　examination　couch　and　sat　down　in　a　chair。　I　might　as　well　make　myself　fortable。　I　was　going　to　make　very　sure　this　lepertige　got　out　of　Turkey。
　　　I　reached　up　to　fondle　my　〃rank　locket〃　as　one　will。　My　hand　met　empty　air！
　　　I　looked。
　　　GONE！
　　　I　must　have　dropped　it！
　　　A　sick　feeling　coursed　through　me。　I　had　intended　just　to　borrow　Utanc's　emerald　locket　to　give　myself　the　necessary　air　of　authority　when　I　couldn't　find　mine。　I　had　intended；　before　this　day　was　out；　to　sneak　it　back　into　her　wardrobe　jewel　drawer。　Oh；　my　Gods；　her　rage　at　me　would　make　the　villa　utterly　uninhabitable！
　　　Wait。　Where　had　I　felt　it　last？　I　couldn't　recall。
　　　I　raced　out　into　the　hall。　I　almost　collided　head…on　with　Prahd。　〃Have　you　found　a　locket？〃　I　screamed　at　him。
　　　He　said；　〃Sssh；　sssh！〃　He　pushed　me　back　into　his　office。　〃Don't　yell　so。　And　you've　taken　off　your　fur　coat。　You　can't　run　around　in　public　in　a　Voltar　uniform！　Here。〃　He　grabbed　a　white　doctor's　coat　out　of　a　drawer　and　shoved　it　at　me。
　　　I　steadied　myself　down　long　enough　to　put　it　on。　The　skirt　and　sleeves　were　much　too　long。　〃The　locket
　　　I　was　wearing　to　show　my　rank；〃　I　said。　〃It's　gone。　Please　help　me　look　for　it。〃
　　　〃I'm　sorry；〃　he　said。　〃I　have　an　operation　scheduled。　Just　remember　the　places　you　have　been　and　go　look。〃
　　　That　was　wise　advice。　I　went　to　the　operating　room　we　had　used　last　night。　A　cleaning　team　was　in　there。　No；　they　hadn't　seen　a　green　locket。
　　　I　went　to　where　I　had　stood　looking　through　the　oneway　window。　No；　no　locket　on　the　floor。
　　　Bright　idea：　I　called　the　taxi　driver　on　the　phone。　I　held　on　while　he　went　and　looked　in　his　cab。　No；　no　locket。
　　　Pleadingly；　I　told　him　to　drive　out　to　the　airport　and　look　around　the　floor　and　call　back。　He　said　he　would。
　　　I　paced。　Oh；　Gods；　Utanc　would　scream　and　rage　and　throw　things　in　absolute　hurricanes　for　days；　weeks；　months！　It　was　the　biggest　stone　in　that　drawer。　It　must　be　worth　fifty　thousand　dollars　at　least！
　　　That　called　to　mind　the　state　of　my　finances。　Very　soon　those　credit…card　vultures　would　be　back。　I　hadn't　any　notion　how　much　I　still　owed　from　my　trip　to　the　U。　S。；　but　it　would　not　be　less　than　another　half　a　million。　No　possible　chance　existed　of　getting　it　from　the　hospital　or　Faht　Bey。　As　it　stood　now；　maybe　they　would　be　satisfied　just　by　selling　off　the　villa　and　the　staff。　But　if　I　bought　another　locket　for　replacement　and　ran　up　even　more　bills　than　I　had；　maybe　they　would　sell　me；　too！
　　　No；　buying　another　locket　was　out　of　the　question！　The　very　thought　of　more　bills　turned　my　blood　cold。
　　　An　hour　went　by。　The　taxi　driver　called　back。　No；　there　was　no　locket　on　the　floor　of　the　airport　and　nobody　had　turned　one　in　and　I　now　owed　him　another　fifteen　dollars！　It　made　me　feel　pretty　angry。　Not　only　had　he　probably　tipped　the　scales　in　favor　of　mayhem　from　the　collectors　by　buying　me　that　new　wardrobe　on　my　credit　cards；　he　now　couldn't　even　do　a　simple　thing　like　finding　a　locket！　But　I　didn't　rage　at　him。　He　was　the　only　excuse　for　a　friend　I　had。　I　simply　hung　up。
　　　Dispiritedly；　I　wandered　back　to　the　interview　room　I　had　been　using；　went　in　and　closed　the　door。
　　　The　Countess　had　transferred　at　Istanbul　and　was　on　her　way　to　Brussels　for　the　next　plane　change。
　　　Apparently；　in　the　transit　lounge；　she　had　made　some　acquisitions。　They　have　a　pretty　plete　snack　and　magazine　stand　there　and　she　had　invested　heavily。　She　had　a　lot　of　periodicals　on　her　lap。　She　was　selecting　one。　She　had　a　French　one　called　Oo　La　La；　La　Femme。
　　　The　elation　I　should　be　feeling　at　the　realization　that　she　was　out　of　Turkey　and　that　every　second　was　taking　her　further　away　did　not　e。
　　　Maybe　it　was　the　magazine　which　made　me　feel　suppressed。　It　was　a　fashion　magazine。　I　knew　that　she　didn't　read　French　but　those　huge　color　plates　of　clothes　didn't　need　words。　What　they　were　saying　to　her；　I　did　not　know。　But　what　they　said　to　me　was　〃Expensive！〃　I　was　a　man　of　experience　now　where　women's　clothes　were　concerned！
　　　Gradually；　however；　I　began　to　cheer　up。　Those　gorgeous　color　plates　of　weirdly　posing　models　draped　in　impossibly　bizarre　garments　were　going　to　cost　Heller　a　roaring　fortune！　A　Parisienne　designer　doesn't　look　at　his　client's　figure：　he　looks　only　at　her　checkbook。　As　he　expects　both　to　be　very　fat；　I　wondered　why　the　models　in　such　fashion　plates　were　always　as　thin　as　chicken　bones。　Strange　world；　women's　fashions。　The　French　were　featuring；　I　could　make　out；　Le　Look　Garbage。
　　　Somebody　had　explained　all　this　to　me　once…a　man　on　a　plane。　He　had　said　the　fashion　designers　were　all　homos　and　they　hated　women　because　they　saw　in　them　petition。　So　they　covertly　dressed　them　as　bizarrely　as　possible　to　keep　men　off　of　them。　He　was　probably　right。　Looking　at　these　pictures　made　me　hate　homos　all　the　more！　To　dress　women　strangely　was　one　thing　but　to　dress　them　so　expensively　was　unforgivable！
　　　The　Countess　Krak　eventually　threw　it　aside。　She　picked　up　a　huge　American　edition　of　a　periodical　called　Vague。　More　fashion　pla