df.theedge-第48部分

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ate　destination；　even　fix　him　up　with　a　job；　because　we　in　our　turn　may　want　him　to　give　evidence　against　the　man　who　frightened　him。　If　we　do；　we　don't　want　to　have　to　find　him　worldwide。　And　if　you　can　send　someone　to　help　him；　get　them　to　take　along　a　copy　of　the　photo　you've　had　printed　for　me；　because　I'm　pretty　certain　that's　the　man　who　frightened　him。　Lenny　should　turn　to　jelly；　if　it　is。'
　　　
　　　
　　　Chapter　Fourteen

　　There　was　unfortunately　a　fair　amount　of　dishwashing　still　to　do　when　I　returned　to　the　kitchen　so　I　lent　a　slightly　guilty　hand　but　kept　walking　out　with　glasses　and　cloths　into　the　dining　car　so　that　I　could　see　what　was　going　on　outside　the　windows。
　　Daffodil；　attended　by　Nell　and　Rose　and　Cumber　Young　（he　carrying　her　two　suitcases）；　was　helped　down　from　the　dome　car　by　station　staff　and　went　off　slowly　into　the　main　part　of　the　station　Daffodil's　curls　were　piled　as　perkily　high　as　usual　but　her　shoulders　drooped　inside　the　chinchillas；　and　the　glimpse　I　had　of　her　face　showed　a　forlorn　lost…child　expression　rather　than　a　virago　bent　on　revenge。　Nell　was　being　helpful。　Rose　Young　exuded　fort。　Cumber　Young　looked　grim。
　　'Are　you　drying　glasses　or　are　you　not？'　Cathy　demanded。　She　was　pretty；　bright…eyed　and　quick；　and　also；　at　that　moment；　tired。
　　'Intermittently；'　I　said。
　　Her　momentary　ill…temper　dissolved。　'Then　get　an　intermittent　move　on　or　I　won't　be　able　to　go　over　to　the　station　before　we　leave。'
　　'Right；'　I　said；　and　dried　and　polished　several　glasses　devotedly。
　　Cathy　giggled。　'How　long　are　you　going　to　keep　this　up？'
　　'To　the　end；　I　guess。'
　　'But　when　is　your　scene？'
　　'Ah。。。'　I　said；　'that's　the　trouble。　Right　at　the　end。　So　I'll　be　drying　dishes　to　Vancouver。'
　　'Are　you　the　murderer？'　she　asked　teasingly。
　　'Most　definitely　not。'
　　'The　last　time　we　had　an　actor　pretending　to　be　a　waiter；　he　was　the　murderer。'
　　'The　murderer；'　I　said；　'is　that　passenger　you　give　the　best　portions　to。　That　good…looking　single　man　who's　nice　to　everyone。'
　　Her　eyes　stretched　wide。　'He's　an　owner；'　she　said。
　　'He's　an　actor。　And　don't　give　him　away。'
　　'Of　course　I　won't。'　She　looked　slightly　dreamy…eyed；　though；　as　if　I'd　passed　on　good　news。　I　didn't　like　to　disillusion　her　about　her　or　any　girl's　prospects　with　the　gorgeous　Giles；　she　would　find　out　soon　enough。
　　The　dishes　finally　done；　Cathy　skipped　away　to　the　delights　of　the　station　and　in　her　place　I　helped　Emil　and　Oliver　stow　and　lock　up　all　the　equipment；　as　when　everyone　disembarked　at　Lake　Louise　the　train　was　again　going　to　be　standing　cold　and　silent　in　sidings　for　two　days　before　the　last　stretch　westwards　to　the　Pacific。
　　Some　but　not　all　of　the　passengers　had　gone　ashore；　so　to　speak；　at　Calgary；　and　those　who　had　been　in　the　station　came　wandering　back　in　good　time；　including　the　Youngs。　Of　Filmer　there　was　no　sign；　nor　of　the　gaunt…faced　man。　The　dining　car　half　filled　again　with　people　who　simply　preferred　sitting　there；　and　from　those　I　heard　that　the　horse　car　had　been　safely　detached　from　the　train　and　had　been　towed　away　by　the　engine；　leaving　the　rest　of　us　temporarily　stranded。
　　The　regular　Canadian；　they　told　each　other；　which　had　arrived　on　time　thirty…five　minutes　after　us；　was　the　train　standing　three　tracks　away；　its　passengers　stretching　their　legs　like　our　own。　The　Canadian；　it　seemed；　had　changed　from　threat　to　friend　in　the　general　perception；　our　Doppelganger　and　panion　on　the　journey。　The　passengers　from　both　had　mingled　and　pared　notes。　The　Conductors　had　met　for　a　talk。
　　There　was　a　jerk　and　a　shudder　through　the　train　as　the　engine　returned　and　reattached；　and　soon　afterwards　we　were　on　our　way　again；　with　passengers　crowding　now　towards　the　dome　car's　observation　deck　to　enjoy　the　ascent　into　the　mountains。
　　Filmer；　slightly　to　my　surprise；　was　among　those　going　through　the　dining　car；　and　right　behind　him　came　Nell　who　looked　over　Filmer's　shoulder　at　me　and　said；　'I've　got　a　message　for　you　from　George　Burley　'
　　'Excuse　me；　miss；'　I　said　abruptly；　standing　well　back　between　two　tables　to　let　Filmer　go　by；　'I'll　be　right　with　you。'
　　'What？　'　She　was　puzzled；　but　paused　and　stepped　sideways　also　to　let　others　behind　her　walk　on　through　the　car。　Filmer　himself　had　gone　on　without　stopping；　without　paying　Nell　or　me　the　least　attention；　and　when　his　back　was　way　down　the　car　and　well　out　of　earshot　of　a　quiet　conversation；　I　turned　back　to　Nell　with　enquiry。
　　'It's　a　bit　of　a　mix…up；'　she　said。　She　was　standing　on　the　far　side　of　the　table　from　me；　and　speaking　across　it。　'Apparently　the　telephone　in　George　Burley's　office　was　ringing　when　he　got　back　on　board；　and　it　was　a　woman　wanting　to　speak　to　a　Mr　Kelsey。　George　Burley　consulted　his　lists　and　said　there　was　no　Mr　Kelsey　on　board。　So　whoever　it　was　asked　him　to　give　a　message　to　me；　which　he　did。'
　　It　must　have　been　Mrs　Baudelaire　phoning；　I　thought'　no　one　else　knew　the　number。　Bill　himself　could　never　be　mistaken　for　a　woman。　Not　his　secretary。。。　？　heaven　forbid。
　　'What's　the　message？'　I　asked。
　　'I　don't　know　if　between　us　George　Burley　and　I　have　got　it　right。'　She　was　frowning。　'It's　meaningless；　but。。。　zero　forty…nine。　That's　the　whole　message；　zero　forty…nine。'　She　looked　at　my　face。　'You　look　happy　enough　about　it；　anyway。'
　　I　was　also　appalled；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　at　how　close　Filmer　had　e　to　hearing　it。
　　I　said；　'Yes；　well。。。　please　don't　tell　anyone　else　about　the　message；　and　please　forget　it　if　you　can。'
　　'I　can't。'
　　'I　was　afraid　not。'　I　hunted　around　if　not　for　explanations　at　least　for　a　reasonable　meaning。　'It's　to　do；'　I　said；　'with　the　border　between　Canada　and　America；　with　the　forty…ninth　parallel。'
　　'Oh；　sure。'　She　was　unsure　by　the　look　of　things；　but　willing　to　let　it　go。
　　I　said；　'Someone　will　bring　a　letter　to　the　Chateau　some　time　this　evening　addressed　to　you。　It　will　have　a　photo　in　it。　It's　for　me；　from　Bill　Baudelaire。　Will　you　see　that　I　get　it？'
　　'Yes；　OK。'　She　briefly　glanced　at　her　clipboard。　'I　wanted　to　talk　to　you　anyway　about　rooms。'　A　passenger　or　two　walked　past；　and　she　waited　until　they　had　gone。　'The　train　crew　are　staying　in　the　staff　annexe　at　Chateau　Lake　Louise　and　the　actors　will　be　in　the　hotel　itself。　Which　do　you　want？　I　have　to　write　the　list。'
　　'Our　passengers　will　be　in　the　hotel？'
　　'Ours；　yes；　but　not　the　racegoers。　They're　all　getting　off　in　Banff。　That's　the　town　before　Lake　Louise。　The　owners　are　all　staying　in　the　Chateau。　So　am　I。　Which　do　you　want？'
　　'To　be　with　you；'　I　said。
　　'Seriously。'
　　I　thought　briefly。　'Is　there　anywhere　else？'
　　'There's　a　sort　of　village　near　the　station　about　a　mile　from　the　Chateau　itself；　but　it's　just　a　few　shops；　and　they're　closing　now　at　this　time　of　the　year；　ready　for　winter。　A　lot　of　places　are　closed　by　this　time；　in　the　mountains。'　She　paused。　'The　Chateau　stands　by　itself　on　the　lake　shore。　It's　beautiful　there。'
　　'Is　it　big？'　I　asked。
　　'Huge。'
　　'OK。　I'll　stay　there　and　risk　it。'
　　'Risk　what？'
　　'Being　stripped　of　my　waistcoat。'
　　'But　you　won't　wear　it　there；'　she　assured　me。
　　'No。。。　metaphorically。'
　　She　lowered　the　clipboard　and　clicked　her　pen　for　writing。
　　'Tommy　Titmouse；'　I　said。
　　Her　lips　curved。　T。　Titmuss。'　She　spelled　it　out。　'That　do？'
　　'Fine。'
　　'What　are　you　really？'
　　'Wait　and　see；'　I　said。
　　She　gave　me　a　dry　look　but　no　answer　because　some　passengers　came　by　with　questions；　and　I　went　forward　into　the　dome　car　to　see　how　firmly　Julius　Apollo　would　appear　to　be　seated；　wondering　whether　it　would　be　safe　to　try　to　look　inside　his　briefcase　or　whether　I　should　most　stringently　obey　the　mand　not　to　risk　being　arrested。　If　he　hadn't　hoped　I　would　look；　the　Brigadier　wouldn't　have　relayed　the　number。　But　if　I　looked　and　got　caught　looking；　it　would　blow　the　whole　operation。
　　Filmer　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。
　　From　the　top　of　the　staircase；　I　searched　again　through　the　rows　of　backs　of　heads　under　the　dome。　No　thick　black　well…brushed　thatch　with　a　scattering　of　grey　hairs。　Bald；　blond；　tangled　and　trimmed；　but　no　Filmer。
　　He　wasn't　in　the　d