rr.thebrentfordtriangle-第32部分

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ttle　confused　monologue；　he　rose　from　his　chair　and　took　out　a　Turkish　cigarette　from　the　polished　humidor。　Lighting　this　with　an　ember　from　the　grate；　he　waggled　the　thing　at　Pooley；　and　spoke　through　a　cloud　of　steely…blue　smoke。　'You　would　not　be　having　one　over　on　me　here；　would　you　Pooley？'　he　asked。
　'I　swear　not。'
　'Norman　has　a　camel　in　his　lock…up　garage　which　he　teleported　from　the　Nile　delta　and　which　openly　defies　the　law　of　gravity？'
　'Not　openly。　Norman　is　keeping　the　matter　very　much　to　himself。'
　'And　he　plans　to　alter　the　Earth's　axis　by　teleporting　the　Great　Pyramid　of　Cheops　into　Brentford　football　ground？'
　'That's　about　the　size　of　it。'
　Professor　Slobe　fingered　the　lobe　of　his　left　ear。　'We　live　in　interesting　times；'　he　said。
　Pooley　shrugged　and　pushed　a　remaining　portion　of　buttered　toast　into　his　mouth。
　'The　idea　does　have　a　certain　charm；　though；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'I　should　really　have　to　sit　down　and　work　it　out　with　a　slide　rule。　For　the　moment；　however；　I　feel　it　would　be　better　if　he　was　dissuaded　from　going　ahead　with　it。　I　think　we　should　nip　it　in　the　bud。'
　'I　think　John　and　I　can　fit　that　in　between　engagements；'　said　Pooley　sarcastically。　The　Professor　raised　an　eyebrow　towards　him；　and　he　fell　back　to　his　toast　chewing。
　'How　near　to　pletion　do　you　believe　his　project　to　be？'
　Pooley　shrugged　again。　'Days　away；　by　the　manner　in　which　he　spoke。　Omally；　using　his　usual　ingenuity；　suggested　that　he　might　avail　himself　of　any　serviceable　ponents　from　the　Captain　Laser　machine；　once　he　had　successfully　disabled　it。　That　idea　alone　was　enough　to　win　him　over　to　the　cause。　What　with　thinly…veiled　threats　of　exposure　and　the　assurance　that　his　action　would　not　only　save　mankind　as　we　know　it；　but　also　secure　him　readmission　to　the　Swan　in　time　for　the　darts　tournament；　he　was　putty　in　Omally's　grubby　mitt。'
　'It　would　certainly　be　nice　to　clear　all　this　up　before　darts　night；'　said　the　Professor　enthusiastically。　'I　have　booked　a　table　at　the　Swan；　I　would　not　care　to　miss　it　for　the　world。'
　'Let　us　pray　that　none　of　us　do；'　said　Pooley。　'Would　there　be　any　chance　of　a　little　more　toast？'　Professor　Slobe　reached　for　his　small　brass　bell。　'I　know　perfectly　well　that　it　is　not　how　you　do　it；'　said　Jim。
　'The　toast　is　on　the　way；'　said　Professor　Slobe；　smiling　broadly。
　Neville　limped　painfully　up　the　stairs　to　his　room；　bearing　with　him　the　special　mid…week　edition　of　the　Brentford　Mercury；　which　had　flopped　unexpectedly　through　the　Swan's　letter…box。　Propping　it　against　the　marmalade　pot；　he　lowered　himself　amid　much　tooth…grinding　on　to　the　gaily…coloured　bathing　ring；　which　rested　somewhat　incongruously　upon　his　dining　chair。
　As　he　sipped　at　his　coffee　he　perused　the　extraordinary　news　sheet。　BRENTFORD　HOLOCAUST！　screamed　the　six…inch　banner　headline　with　typically　restrained　conservatism。　'Many　arrests　in　Battle　of　Brentford；　rival　gangs　clash　in　open　street　warfare。'
　Neville　shook　his　head　in　wonder　at　it　all。　How　had　the　trouble　started？　It　was　all　a　little　hazy。　That　Pooley　and　Omally　were　involved；　he　was　certain。　He　would　bar　them　without　further　ado。
　He　groaned　dismally　and　clutched　at　his　tender　parts。
　He　surely　could　not　afford　to　bar　any　more　clients；　something　desperate　was　going　to　have　to　be　done　to　persuade　Norman　to　return　to　the　fold。　And　Old　Pete；　he　was　sure　he　had　barred　him；　but　he　was　equally　certain　that　the　old　reprobate　had　been　in　the　night　before。　Perhaps　he　hadn't。　He　would　bar　him　again　just　to　be　on　the　safe　side。
　He　perused　the　long　columns　of　journalistic　licence　which　covered　the　Mercury's　front　page。　It　had　been　some　kind　of　political　rally；　so　it　appeared；　the　Brownshirts　or　the　League　of　St　George。　Apparently　these　extremists　had　been　drawn　into　bat　with　the　martial　acolytes　of　the　Brentford　Temple　of　Dimac。　The　police　had　acted　bravely　and　justly；　although　greatly　outnumbered。　There　was　some　talk　of　decorations　at　the　Palace。
　Neville　skimmed　along　the　lines　of　print；　seeking　to　find　some　reference　to　the　original　cause　of　the　incident；　but　none　was　forthing。　The　Swan　didn't　even　get　a　mention；　nor　did　the　names　of　any　of　the　regulars　appear　amongst　the　list　of　arrested　villains　destined　to　go　up　before　the　beak　this　very　morning。　With　the　arrival　of　the　boys　in　blue　the　Swan's　stalwarts　had　either　melted　away　into　the　night　or　retired　to　the　tranquillity　of　the　saloon…bar　to　engage　in　games　of　darts　and　dominoes。
　He　read　the　final　paragraph。　The　gallant　bobbies　had；　so　it　was　stated；　bee　involved　in　a　hair…raising　car　chase　through　Brentford　with　a　black　nineteen…fifties　Cadillac　which　had　roared　away　from　the　scene　of　the　crime　during　the　height　of　the　disturbances。　They　had　pursued　it　through　the　maze　of　backstreets　until　unaccountably　losing　it　in　a　cul…de…sac。
　Neville　folded　the　paper　and　flung　it　into　the　fireplace。　He　would　get　to　the　bottom　of　all　this；　just　as　soon　as　he　could　get　it　all　clear　in　his　mind。　But　for　now　only　two　tilings　mattered：　firstly；　that　Norman　be　reinstated　as　soon　as　possible　in　a　manner　in　which　neither　party　would　lose　face　and　one　which　would　not　anger　his　pagan　deity；　and；　secondly；　that　the　ice　pack　which　he　now　wore　strapped　between　his　legs　got　another　top…up　from　the　fridge。
　Small　Dave　sat　in　the　sewage　outlet　pipe　at　the　old　dock；　which　he　now　called　home。　His　face　wore　a　manic　expression　into　which　it　had　been　moulding　itself；　a　little　more　permanently；　with　each　passing　day。　He　had　given　up　such　niceties　as　hygiene；　and　now　lived　for　only　one　thing。
　Dire　and　unremitting　vengeance！
　Some　way　further　up　the　pipe；　hovering　in　the　darkness；　was　a　misty　figure；　visible　only　to　the　small　postman　and　to　certain　members　of　the　animal　elite。
　Small　Dave　ground　his　teeth　and　spat　into　the　daylight。　So　Norman　had　the　camel　penned　up　in　his　garage　upon　the　Butts　Estate；　did　he？　He　had　always　suspected　the　shopkeeper；　and　now　Edgar　had　confirmed　his　suspicions。
　'We　have　him；'　sneered　the　dwarf；　raising　a　tiny　fist　towards　the　sky。　'Right　where　we　want　him。'　He　grinned　towards　the　spectre；　exposing　two　rows　of　evil…looking　yellow　teeth。　Edgar　Allan　Poe　shifted　uneasily　in　the　darkness。　He　was　not　at　all　happy　about　any　of　this。　He　had　made　a　big　mistake　in　allowing　himself　to　bee　involved　with　this　diminutive　lunatic；　and　sorely　craved　to　return　to　the　astral　plane。　Although　a　grey　and　foggy　realm；　which　offered　little　in　the　way　of　pleasurable　diversion；　it　was　infinitely　preferable　to　this　madhouse　any　day　of　the　week。
　Sadly；　by　the　very　nature　of　the　laws　which　govern　such　matters；　he　was　unable　to　gain　release；　other　than　through　the　courtesy　of　the　being　who　had　called　him　into　service。　The　mighty　fire　which　had　raged　through　Small　Dave's　house；　eating　up　many　thousands　of　copies　of　his　books；　had　acted　as　some　kind　of　sacrificial　catalyst　which　now　bound　him　to　the　material　world。
　Edgar　Allan　Poe　was　thoroughly　Earthbound；　and　he　was　in　a　very；　very　bad　mood。
　At　a　little　after　eleven…thirty　John　Omally　reached　the　Flying　Swan。　He　would　have　reached　it　sooner　but　for　the　throng　of　reporters　from　the　national　dailies　who　had　accosted　him　in　the　street。　With　his　usual　courtesy　and　willingness　to　be　of　assistance　he　had　granted　several　exclusive　interviews　on　the　spot。
　Yes；　he　had　been　there　in　the　thick　of　it；　braving　the　rubber　bullets　and　the　tear…gas。　Yes；　he　had　been　the　last　man　standing；　by　virtue　of　his　mastery　in　the　deadly　fighting　arts　of　Dimac。　No；　he　had　only　saved　the　lives　of　three　of　his　panions；　not　four；　as　was　popularly　believed。　And　no；　he　was　sorry；　he　could　not　allow　any　photographs　to　be　taken；　modesty　forbidding　him　to　take　more　than　his　fair　share　of　credit　in　saving　the　day。
　Patting　at　his　now　heavily　burdened　pockets；　Omally　entered　the　Flying　Swan。　Neville　was　at　the　counter's　end；　supported　upon　the　gaily…coloured　rubber　bathing　ring　which　he　had　Sellotaped　to　the　top　of　a　bar　stool。　He　was　studying　a　picture　postcard　which　boasted　a　rooftop　view　of　Brentford；　but　upon　Omally's　approach　he　laid　this　aside　and　viewed　the　Irishman　with　distaste。
　'You　are　not　wele　here；'　he　said　in　no　uncertain　terms。
　John　smiled　sweetly