rr.eastofealing-第38部分

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　'Let's　have　a　squint；'　said　Soap　Distant。　'And　you　keep　your　hands　to　yourself；　Pooley。'
　'They're　in　my　pockets。　Have　a　care　where　you　step；　it's　crowded　in　here。'
　Soap's　pink　eye　rose　to　the　carved　cresent。　'My　God；'　said　he。
　'Not　mine；'　said　John　Omally。
　Beyond　the　broken　trelliswork　which　topped　the　garden　fence；　the　great　Festival　floats　were　moving　in　slow　procession。　The　thin　dawn　light；　now　tinting　their　silhouettes；　brought　them　form　and　solidity。　They　were　vast；　towering　to　fill　the　streets；　extending　outwards　within　inches　of　the　house　walls。　But　what　were　they？　They　had　something　of　the　look　of　great　bloated　sombre　reptiles；　with　scaled　flanks　and　rudimentary　limbs。　All　gill　slits　and　hulking　slabby　sides。　But　they　were　too　large；　too　daunting；　too　top…heavy。　They　did　not　fit。　How　many　of　these　monstrosities　had　already　passed　and　how　many　more　were　yet　to　e？　The　three　men　skulking　in　the　evil…smelling　dunny　chose　not　to　make　bets。
　Soap　tore　his　eye　from　the　hole　with　difficulty。　Already　the　terrible　pulsion　to　watch　each　movement　of　the　swaying　behemoths　had　bee　all　but　overwhelming。　'What　are　they？'　he　gasped；　pressing　his　hands　across　the　hole　that　he　might　see　no　more。
　'The　work　of　the　Devil。'　Omally's　voice；　ing　from　the　darkness；　put　the　wind　up　even　himself。　'We　have　to　get　out　of　here。　At　least　to　the　Professor's；　then　I　don't　know　what。'
　'A　manhole；　two　gardens　up；　leads　indirectly　into　a　tunnel　to　his　basement。'
　'Oh　no。'　This　voice　belonged　to　Jim　Pooley。　'Down　again　we　do　not　go。　I　will　take　my　chances　above　ground。'
　'Well；　please　yourself。　Whatever　killed　Holmes　could　not　pursue　us；　it　was　pretty　big。　The　tunnels　hereabouts　are　small。　I　shall　travel　below；　you　do　as　you　see　fit。'
　'I　think　we　should　stick　together；'　Omally　advised。
　'Are　you　sure　it's　safe；　Soap？'
　'To　tell　the　absolute　truth；　I'm　not　too　sure　of　anything　any　more。'
　'Oh　doom；　oh　desolation。　Oooh；　ooooow！'
　'e　on　then。'　Omally　eased　open　the　door；　and　the　three　men；　one　now　limping　a　little　and　clutching　at　himself；　ducked　across　the　garden　and　shinned　up　a　dividing　fence。　Soap's　manhole　was　overgrown　with　weeds；　which　seemed　promising。　The　hollow　Earther　took　a　slim　crooked　tool　from　his　belt　and；　scraping　away　the　undergrowth；　flipped　off　the　cover　in　a　professional　manner。　'Follow　me；'　he　said；　vanishing　from　sight。
　Pooley　looked　at　Omally。　'It's　all　up　and　down　these　days；　isn't　it？'
　'After　you；　Jim。　I　should　hate　you　to　have　cold　feet。'
　Muttering　and　plaining；　the　blighted　billionaire　clambered　into　the　hole；　followed　by　Omally；　who　drew　the　lid　back　into　place。
　Three　darting　images　vanished　from　the　screen　of　the　Lateinos　and　Romiith　puter　scan；　but　already　the　information　had　been　processed　and　relayed。　No　less　than　three　Pooleys　and　a　brace　of
　Omallys　were　already　scaling　the　garden　wall。　None　of　them　were　wearing　carnival　hats。
　'e　on；　lads。'　Soap's　voice　urged　them　on　from　the　darkness。　'And　get　a　move　on；　something　smells　a　bit　iffy　down　here。'　With　hands　about　each　other's　waists；　the　most　unmusical　of　all　conga　lines　moved　along　a　few　short　feet　beneath　the　streets　of　Brentford。　The　rumble　of　the　heavy　floats　and　the　muffled　sounds　of　chanting；　ing　faintly　to　them　as　the　duplicates　mouthed　to　the　holophonic　images　pouring　into　their　brains　through　their　minuscule　headphones；　were　anything　but　cheering。
　Soap　suddenly　came　upon　a　heavy　door　blocking　his　way。　'There　now；'　said　he。
　'Where　now；　exactly？'
　'We're　there。'
　'Good　man；　Soap。　Now　open　up；　let's　not　waste　anytime。'
　The　sounds　of　Soap　fumbling　in　his　pockets　preceded　a　long　and　dismal　groan。　'My　keys。'
　'Where　are　your　keys；　Soap？'
　'In　my　desk；　I　think。'
　A　piercing　white　light　illuminated　the　narrow　black　corridor。　It　shone　directly　on　to　three　terrified　faces；　which　had　turned　instinctively　towards　it。　From　about　the　light　source　came　the　flashing　of　blue　sparks　as　several　lethal　handsets　energized。
　'Get　out　of　the　way；'　said　Omally。　'Let　me　at　that　lock。'　The　Irishman　squeezed　past　the　pink…eyed　man　and　dropped　to　his　knees。　A　neat　roll　of　house…breaking　implements　materialized　from　a　hidden　pocket　in　his　waistcoat　and　were　rapidly　unfurled。
　'John；'　said　Jim；　'I　had　no　idea。'
　'They　were　the　daddy's。　Keep　out　of　the　light　and　keep　those　bastards　back　somehow。'
　The　light　was　moving　nearer；　spiralling　along　the　wet　brick…worked　tube　of　the　tunnel。　The　crackling　of　the　handsets　became　audible。
　'You'll　not　break　it；'　gibbered　Soap。　'The　lock　is　protected；　it　cannot　be　picked。'
　'There　is　no　lock　which　cannot　be　picked。'　Omally　flung　aside　a　bundle　of　metal　tags　and　slotted　another　sequence　into　the　shaft　of　the　skeleton　key。
　'You　won't　open　it。'
　'Shut　up　will　you？'
　'Get　away。'　For　once　doing　the　bold　thing；　Pooley　had　crept　back　up　the　tunnel　towards　his　attackers。　Now　he　lashed　out　with　his　hobnail　at　the　blinding　light　as　it　reared　up　in　his　face。　His　boot　connected　and　the　beam　swung　aside；　leaving　Omally　to　fumble　in　the　darkness。　'Nice　one；　Jim；'　he　spat。　'Now　I　can't　see　a　bloody　thing。'
　'Get　off　me；　leave　hold。'　Clawing　hands　reached　out　towards　Pooley。　In　the　coruscating　blue　fire　his　face　twisted　and　contorted。　'John；　protect　me　for　God's　sake！'
　'Protect　me。。。'　Omally's　brain　kicked　into　gear。　He　tore　his　crucifix　from　about　his　neck　and　fumbling　for　the　keyhole　thrust　it　in　and　turned　it　sharply　to　the　right。　'We're　in；　lads；'　cried　John。
　'Go　quickly；'　said　Soap。　'It　is　up　to　you　now。'　With　a　brisk　movement　he　vanished　away　as　if　by　magic　into　the　brickwork　of　the　passage。
　Omally　bundled　his　way　through　the　doorway。
　Pooley　wrenched　himself　away　from　his　attackers；　leaving　them　the　right　sleeve　of　his　cashmere　jacket　as　something　to　remember　him　by。　The　bined　weight　of　two　men　hurtled　the　door　back　into　its　jambs。　Fists　rained　upon　it　from　without；　but　they　could　not　penetrate　the　mantle　of　protection。　Omally　winkled　out　his　crucifix　and　pressed　it　to　his　lips。　'And　then　there　were　two；'　said　he；　sinking　to　his　bum　with　a　dull　thump。
　Jim　slowly　removed　his　jacket；　folding　it　neatly　across　his　arm。　He　laid　upon　the　floor　and　began　to　leap　up　and　down　upon　it。　'Bugger；　bugger；　bugger；　bugger；'　he　went。
　Omally　watched　the　performance　without　ment。　They　were　a　strange　old　breed　these　millionaire　lads　and　that　was　a　fact。　'When　you　are　done；'　he　said　at　length；　'I　suggest　we　go　upstairs　and　break　the　sad　news　of　Holmes　to　the　old　man。'
　'Oh　bugger；'　said　Pooley。
　'So　you　said。'
　'No；　this　is　another　quite　separate　bugger。　I　left　my　fags　in　the　top　pocket。'
　Professor　Slobe　watched　the　two　men　plod　wearily　up　the　cellar　steps；　slouch　down　the　side…corridor；　and　halt　before　the　study　door；　twin　looks　of　indecision　upon　their　unshaven　faces。　He　opened　his　eyes。　'e　in；　lads；'　he　called。　'No　need　to　skulk　about　out　here。'　Beyond　the　heavy…panelled　door；　Omally　shrugged。　With　evasive　eyes　and　shuffling　feet；　he　and　Jim　sheepishly　entered　the　study。　Professor　Slobe　indicated　the　decanter；　and　Omally　grasped　it　up　by　the　neck　and　rattled　it　into　a　crystal　tumbler。
　'Easy　on　the　glassware；　John。'
　Omally；　his　face　like　a　smacked　bottom；　looked　up　at　the　ancient。　'Sherlock　Holmes　is　dead；'　he　blurted　out。
　Professor　Slobe's　face　was　without　expression。　His　eyes　widened　until　they　became　all　but　circular。　The　whites　formed　two　Polo　mints　about　the　pupils。　The　narrow　jaw　slowly　revolved　as　if　he　was　grinding　his　teeth　upon　Omally's　words。
　'That　cannot　be；'　he　said；　slowly　drawing　himself　from　his　desk　and　turning　his　back　upon　his　uninvited　guests。　'It　cannot　be。'
　Omally　poured　his　drink　down　his　neck　and　slung　another　large　measure　into　his　glass。　'And　mine；'　plained　Pooley。
　The　Professor　turned　upon　them。　'How　did　this　happen？　Did　you　see　it？'　A　high　tone　of　fear　choked　at　his　voice。
　'Not　exactly；'　Jim　replied　nervously；　'but　believe　us；　sir；　he　could　not　have　survived。'
　'He　saved　our　lives；'　said　Omally。
　'But　you　did　not　actually　see？'
　'Not　exactly；　thank　God。'
　Professor　Slobe　smiled　ruefully。　'I　thought　not。'
　Omally　opened　his　mouth　to　speak；　but　thought　better　of　it。　If　the　old　man　did　not　care　to　accept　the　truth；　then　t