p&c.icelimit-第27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！


　〃Of　course；〃　Glinn　answered　quickly；　after　stifling　a　wet　cough。　〃We　are　equipped　with　all　the　latest　mining　equipment　and　a　fine　ore　carrier。　This　is　a　highly　professional　operation。〃
　The　slightly　amused　expression　on　the　official's　face　indicated　that　he　had　already　received　information　about　the　big　rust　bucket　anchored　beyond　the　channel。　He　drew　the　papers　toward　him　and　flipped　through　them　casually。　〃It　will　take　some　time　to　process　these；〃　he　said。　〃We　will　probably　want　to　visit　your　ship。　Where　is　the　captain？〃
　〃I　am　the　master　of　the　Rolvaag；〃　said　Britton。
　At　this　the　official's　eyebrows　shot　up。　There　was　a　shuffling　of　feet　from　the　back　room　of　the　customs　house；　and　two　more　officials　of　indistinct　rank　came　through　the　door。　Heading　to　the　stove；　they　sat　down　on　a　bench　beside　it。
　〃You　are　the　captain；〃　the　official　said。
　〃Si。〃
　The　official　grunted；　looked　down　at　the　papers；　casually　leafed　through　them；　and　looked　up　at　her　again。　〃And　you；　senor？〃　he　asked；　swiveling　his　gaze　to　McFarlane。
　Glinn　spoke。　〃This　is　Dr。　Widmanstatten；　senior　scientist。　He　speaks　no　Spanish。　I　am　the　chief　engineer；　Eli　Ishmael。〃
　McFarlane　felt　the　official's　gaze　linger　on　him。　〃Widmanstatten；〃　the　man　repeated　slowly；　as　if　tasting　the　name。　The　two　other　officials　turned　to　look　at　him。
　McFarlane's　mouth　went　dry。　His　face　hadn't　been　in　the　Chilean　newspapers　for　at　least　five　years。　And　he'd　had　a　beard　at　the　time。　Nothing　to　worry　about；　he　told　himself。　Sweat　began　to　form　at　his　temples。
　The　Chileans　stared　at　him　curiously；　as　if　detecting　his　agitation　with　some　kind　of　professional　sixth　sense。
　〃No　speak　Spanish？〃　the　official　said　to　him。　His　eyes　narrowed　as　he　stared。
　There　was　a　brief　silence。　Then；　involuntarily；　McFarlane　blurted　out　the　first　thing　that　came　to　mind：　〃Quiero　una　puta。〃
　There　was　sudden　laughter　from　the　Chilean　officials。　〃He　speaks　well　enough；〃　said　the　man　behind　the　table。　McFarlane　sat　back　and　licked　his　lips；　exhaling　slowly。
　Glinn　coughed　again；　a　hideous　racking　cough。　〃Pardon　me；〃　he　said；　pulling　out　a　grimy　handkerchief；　wiping　his　chin；　scattering　yellow　phlegm　with　a　savage　shake；　and　returning　it　to　his　pocket。
　The　official　glanced　at　the　handkerchief；　then　rubbed　his　delicate　hands　together。　〃I　hope　you　are　not　ing　down　with　something　in　this　damp　climate　of　ours。〃
　〃It　is　nothing；〃　said　Glinn。　McFarlane　looked　at　him　with　growing　alarm。　The　man's　eyes　were　raw　and　bloodshot：　he　looked　ill。
　Britton　coughed　delicately　into　her　hand。　〃A　cold；〃　she　said。　〃It's　been　going　around　ship。〃
　〃A　mere　cold？〃　asked　the　official；　his　eyebrows　assuming　an　uneasy　arch。
　〃Well。。。〃　Britton　paused。　〃Our　sick　bay　is　overflowing…〃
　〃It's　nothing　serious；〃　Glinn　interrupted；　his　voice　thready　with　mucus。　〃Perhaps　a　touch　of　influenza。　You　know　what　it　is　like　on　board　ship；　everyone　confined　to　small　spaces。〃　He　let　out　a　laugh　that　devolved　into　another　cough。　〃Speaking　of　that；　we　would　be　delighted　to　receive　you　aboard　our　vessel　today　or　tomorrow；　at　your　convenience。〃
　〃Perhaps　that　won't　be　necessary；〃　said　the　official。　〃Provided　these　papers　are　in　order。〃　He　leafed　through　them。　〃Where　is　your　mining　bond？〃
　With　a　mighty　clearing　of　the　throat；　Glinn　leaned　over　the　desk　and　pulled　an　embossed；　sealed　set　of　papers　from　his　jacket。　Receiving　them　with　the　edges　of　his　fingers；　the　official　scanned　the　top　sheet；　then　flipped　to　the　next　with　a　jerk　of　his　wrist。　He　laid　the　sheets　on　the　worn　tabletop。
　〃I　am　desolated；〃　he　said　with　a　sad　shake　of　his　head。　〃But　this　is　the　wrong　form。〃
　McFarlane　saw　the　other　two　officials　glance　covertly　at　each　other。
　〃It　is？〃　asked　Glinn。
　There　was　a　sudden　change　in　the　room；　an　air　of　tense　expectation。
　〃You　will　need　to　bring　the　correct　form　from　Punta　Arenas；〃　the　official　said。　〃At　that　time；　I　can　stamp　it　approved。　Until　then；　I　will　hold　your　passports　for　safekeeping。〃
　〃It　is　the　correct　form；〃　said　Britton；　her　voice　taking　a　hard　edge。
　〃Let　me　take　care　of　this。〃　Glinn　spoke　to　her　in　English。　〃I　think　they　want　some　money。〃
　Britton　flared。　〃What；　they　want　a　bribe？〃　
　Glinn　made　a　suppressing　motion　with　one　hand。　〃Easy。〃
　McFarlane　looked　at　the　two；　wondering　if　what　he　was　seeing　between　them　was　real；　or　an　act。
　Glinn　turned　back　to　the　customs　official；　whose　face　was　wreathed　in　a　false　smile。　〃Perhaps；〃　Glinn　said　in　Spanish；　〃we　could　purchase　the　correct　bond　here？〃
　〃It　is　a　possibility；〃　said　the　official。　〃They　are　expensive。〃
　With　a　loud　sniff；　Glinn　hefted　his　briefcase　and　laid　it　on　the　table。　Despite　its　dirty；　scuffed　appearance；　the　officials　glanced　at　it　with　ill…concealed　anticipation。　Glinn　flicked　open　the　latches　and　raised　the　top；　pretending　to　hide　its　contents　from　the　Chileans。　Inside　were　more　papers　and　a　dozen　bundles　of　American　twenties；　held　together　by　rubber　bands。　Glinn　removed　half　of　the　bundles　and　laid　them　on　the　table。　〃Will　that　take　care　of　it？〃　he　asked。
　The　official　smiled　and　settled　back　in　his　chair；　making　a　tent　of　his　fingers。　〃I'm　afraid　not；　senor。　Mining　bonds　are　expensive。〃　His　eyes　were　fastidiously　averted　from　the　open　briefcase。
　〃How　much；　then？〃
　The　official　pretended　to　do　a　quick　mental　calculation。　〃Twice　that　amount　should　be　sufficient。〃
　There　was　a　silence。　Then；　wordlessly；　Glinn　reached　into　the　briefcase；　removed　the　rest　of　the　bundles；　and　placed　them　on　the　table。
　To　McFarlane；　it　was　as　if　the　tense　atmosphere　had　suddenly　dissipated。　The　official　at　the　table　gathered　up　the　money。　Britton　looked　annoyed　but　resigned。　The　two　officials　sitting　on　the　bench　beside　the　stove　were　smiling　widely。　The　only　exception　was　a　new　arrival；　a　striking　figure　who　had　slipped　in　from　the　back　room　at　some　point　during　the　negotiation　and　was　now　standing　in　the　doorway。　He　was　a　tall　man　with　a　brown　face　as　sharp　as　a　knife；　keen　black　eyes；　thick　eyebrows；　and　pointed　ears　that　gave　him　an　intense；　almost　Mephistophelean　aura。　He　wore　a　clean　but　faded　Chilean　naval　uniform　with　a　bit　of　gold　thread　on　the　shoulders。　McFarlane　noted　that；　while　the　man's　left　arm　lay　at　his　side　with　military　rigidity；　the　right　was　held　horizontally　across　his　stomach；　its　atrophied　hand　curled　into　an　involuntary　brown　ma。　The　man　looked　at　the　officials；　at　Glinn；　at　the　money　on　the　table；　and　his　lips　curled　into　a　faint　smile　of　contempt。
　The　stacks　of　money　had　now　been　gathered　into　four　piles。　〃What　about　a　receipt？〃　asked　Britton。
　〃Unfortunately；　that　is　not　our　way。。。〃　The　customs　official　spread　his　hands　with　another　smile。　Moving　back　quickly；　he　slipped　one　of　the　piles　of　money　into　his　desk；　then　handed　two　of　the　other　piles　to　the　men　on　the　bench。　〃For　safekeeping；〃　he　said　to　Glinn。　Finally；　the　official　picked　up　the　remaining　pile　and　offered　it　to　the　uniformed　man。　The　man；　who　had　been　peering　closely　at　McFarlane；　crossed　his　good　hand　over　the　bad　but　made　no　gesture　for　the　money。　The　official　held　it　there　for　a　moment；　and　then　spoke　to　him　in　a　rapid　undertone。
　〃Nada；〃　answered　the　uniformed　man　in　a　loud　voice。　Then　he　stepped　forward　and　turned　to　the　group；　his　eyes　glittering　with　hatred。　〃You　Americans　think　you　can　buy　everything；〃　he　said　in　clear；　uninflected　English。　〃You　cannot。　I　am　not　like　these　corrupt　officials。　Keep　your　money。〃
　The　customs　official　spoke　sharply；　waggling　the　wad　of　bills　at　him。　〃You　will　take　it；　fool。〃
　There　was　a　distinct　click　as　Glinn　carefully　closed　his　briefcase。
　〃No；〃　said　the　uniformed　man；　switching　to　Spanish。　〃This　is　a　farce；　and　all　of　you　know　it。　We　are　being　robbed。〃　He　spat　toward　the　stove。　In　the　dread　silence　that　followed；　McFarlane　clearly　heard　the　smack　and　sizzle　as　the　gobbet　hit　the　hot　iron。
　〃Robbed？〃　the　official　asked。　〃How　do　you　mean？〃
　〃You　think　Americans　would　e　down　here　to　mine　iron？〃　the　man　said。　〃Then　you　are　the　fool。　They　are　here　for　something　else。〃
　〃Tell　me；　wise　andante；　why　they　are　here。〃
　〃There　is　no　iron　ore　on　Isla　Desolacion。　They　can　only　be　here　for　one　thing。　Gold。〃
　After　a　pause；　the　official　began　to　laugh　…　a　low…throated；　mir