df.theedge-第69部分

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　　'Is　it　important？'　she　asked；　and　I　could　imagine　her　frowning。
　　'I　think　it's　important　for　Mercer。'
　　'All　right。'　She　made　up　her　mind。　'Xanthe　can　take　the　phone　calls　for　her　mother；　then；　because　I　have　to　go　to　this　cocktail　party。'　A　thought　struck　her。　'Aren't　some　of　the　Jockey　Club　ing　to　the　party？'
　　'Mercer　won't　want　to　go。　They　want　a　quiet　talk　with　him　alone。'
　　'OK　then；　I'll　try　to　arrange　it。'
　　'Very　many　thanks；'　I　said　fervently。　'I'll　call　back　to　check。'
　　I　called　back　at　five　o'clock。　The　helicopter　was　in　the　air　on　its　way　back；　Nell　said；　and　Mercer　had　agreed　to　being　picked　up　at　the　hotel。
　　'You're　brilliant。'
　　'Tell　the　Jockey　Club　not　to　keep　him　long。　He'll　be　tired　。。。　and　he's　identified　Sheridan。'
　　'I　could　kiss　you；'　I　said。　'The　way　to　a　man's　heart　is　through　his　travel　agent。'
　　She　laughed。　'Always　supposing　that's　where　one　wants　to　go。'
　　She　put　her　receiver　down　with　a　delicate　click。　I　did　not　want　to　lose　her；　I　thought。
　　The　car　I　sent　for　Mercer　picked　him　up　successfully　and　brought　him　to　the　Hyatt；　the　chauffeur　telling　him；　as　requested；　the　room　to　go　straight　up　to。　He　rang　the　doorbell　of　the　suite　I'd　engaged　more　or　less　in　his　honour；　and　I　opened　the　door　to　let　him　in。
　　He　came　in　about　two　paces　and　then　stopped　and　peered　with　displeasure　at　my　face。
　　'What　is　this？'　he　demanded　with　growing　anger；　preparing　to　depart。
　　I　closed　the　door　behind　him。
　　'I　work　for　the　Jockey　Club；'　I　said。　'The　British　Jockey　Club。　I　am　seconded　here　with　the　Canadian　Jockey　Club　for　the　duration　of　the　race　train　Celebration　of　Canadian　Racing。'
　　'But　you're。。。。　you're。。。'
　　'My　name　is　Tor　Kelsey；'　I　said。　'It　was　judged　better　that　I　didn't　go　openly　on　the　train　as　a　sort　of　security　agent　for　the　Jockey　Club；　so　I　went　as　a　waiter。'
　　He　looked　me　over。　Looked　at　the　rich　young　owner's　good　suit　that　I'd　put　on　for　the　occasion。　Looked　at　the　expensive　room。
　　'My　God；'　he　said　weakly。　He　took　a　few　paces　forward。　'Why　am　I　here？'
　　'I　work　for　Brigadier　Valentine　Catto　in　England；'　I　said；　'and　Bill　Baudelaire　over　here。　They　are　the　heads　of　the　Jockey　Club　Security　Services。'
　　He　nodded。　He　knew　them。
　　'As　they　cannot　be　here；　they　have　both　given　me　their　authority　to　speak　to　you　on　their　behalf。'
　　'Yes；　but。。。　what　about？'
　　'Would　you　sit　down？　Would　you　like。。。　a　drink？'
　　He　looked　at　me　with　a　certain　dry　humour。　'Do　you　have　any　identification？'
　　'Yes。'　I　fetched　my　passport。　He　opened　it。　Looked　at　my　name；　at　my　likeness；　and　at　my　occupation：　investigator。
　　He　handed　it　back。　'Yes；　I'll　have　a　drink；'　he　said；　'as　you're　so　good　at　serving　them。　Cognac　if　possible。'
　　I　opened　the　cupboard　that　the　hotel　had　supplied　at　my　request　with　wine；　vodka；　Scotch　and　brandy；　and　poured　the　amount　I　knew　he'd　like；　even　adding　the　heretical　ice。　He　took　the　glass　with　a　twist　of　a　smile；　and　sat　in　one　of　the　armchairs。
　　'No　one　guessed　about　you；'　he　said。　'No　one　came　anywhere　near　it。'　He　took　a　sip　reflectively。　'Why　were　you　on　the　train？'
　　'I　was　sent　because　of　one　of　the　passengers。　Because　of　Julius　Filmer。'
　　The　ease　that　had　been　growing　in　him　fled　abruptly。　He　put　the　glass　down　on　the　table　beside　him　and　stared　at　me。
　　'Mr　Lorrimore；'　I　said；　sitting　down　opposite　him；　'I　am　sorry　about　your　son。　Truly　sorry。　All　of　the　Jockey　Club　send　their　sympathy。　I　think　though　that　I　should　tell　you　straight　away　that　Brigadier　Catto；　Bill　Baudelaire　and　myself　all　know　about　the。。。　er。。。　incident。。。　of　the　cats。'
　　He　looked　deeply　shocked。　'You　can't　know！　'
　　'I　imagine　that　Julius　Filmer　knows　also。'
　　He　made　a　hopeless　gesture　with　one　hand。　'However　did　he　find　out？'
　　The　Brigadier　is　working　on　that　in　England。'
　　'And　how　did　you　find　out？'
　　'Not　from　anyone　you　swore　to　silence。'
　　'Not　from　the　college？'
　　'No。'
　　He　covered　his　face　briefly　with　one　hand。
　　'Julius　Filmer　may　still　suggest　you　give　him　Voting　Right　in　exchange　for　his　keeping　quiet；'　I　said。
　　He　lowered　the　hand　to　his　throat　and　closed　his　eyes。　'I've　thought　of　that；'　he　said。　He　opened　his　eyes　again。　'Did　you　see　the　last　scene　of　the　mystery？'
　　'Yes；'　I　said。
　　'I　haven't　known　what　to　do。。。　since　then。'
　　'It's　you　who　has　to　decide；'　I　said。　'But。。。　can　I　tell　you　a　few　things？'
　　He　gave　a　vague　gesture　of　assent；　and　I　talked　to　him；　also；　for　quite　a　long　time。　He　listened　with　total　concentration；　mostly　watching　my　face。　People　who　were　repudiating　in　their　minds　every　word　one　said　didn't　look　at　one's　face　but　at　the　floor；　or　at　a　table；　at　anything　else。　I　knew；　by　the　end；　that　he　would　do　what　I　was　asking；　and　I　was　grateful　because　it　wouldn't　be　easy　for　him。
　　When　I'd　finished；　he　said　thoughtfully；　'That　mystery　was　no　coincidence；　was　it？　The　father　blackmailed　because　of　his　child's　crime；　the　groom　murdered　because　he　knew　too　much；　the　man　who　would　kill　himself　if　he　couldn't　keep　his　racehorses。。。　Did　you　write　it　yourself？'
　　'All　that　part；　yes。　Not　from　the　beginning。'
　　He　smiled　faintly。　'You　showed　me　what　I　was　doing　。。。　was　prepared　to　do。　But　beyond　that。。。　you　showed　Sheridan。'
　　'I　wondered；'　I　said。
　　'Did　you？　Why？'
　　'He　looked　different　afterwards。　He　had　changed。'
　　Mercer　said；　'How　could　you　see　that？'
　　'It's　my　job。'
　　He　looked　startled。　'There　isn't　such　a　job。'
　　'Yes；'　I　said；　'there　is。'
　　'Explain；'　he　said。
　　'I　watch。。。　for　things　that　aren't　what　they　were；　and　try　to　understand；　and　find　out　why。'
　　'All　the　time？'
　　I　nodded。　'Yes。'
　　He　drank　his　brandy　thoughtfully。　'What　change　did　you　see　in　Sheridan？'
　　I　hesitated。　'I　just　thought　that　things　had　shifted　in　his　mind。　Like　seeing　something　from　a　different　perspective。　A　sort　of　revelation。　I　didn't　know　if　it　would　last。'
　　'It　might　not　have　done。'
　　'No。'
　　'He　said；'　Mercer　said；'　〃Sorry；　Dad。　〃　'
　　It　was　my　turn　to　stare。
　　'He　said　it　before　he　went　out　on　to　the　platform。'　Mercer　swallowed　with　difficulty　and　eventually　went　on。　'He　had　been　so　quiet。　I　couldn't　sleep。　I　went　out　to　the　saloon　about　dawn；　and　he　was　sitting　there。　I　asked　him　what　was　the　matter；　and　he　said；　〃I　fucked　things　up；　didn't　I？〃　We　all　knew　he　had。　It　wasn't　anything　new。　But　it　was　the　first　time　he'd　said　so。　I　tried。。。　I　tried　to　fort　him；　to　say　we　would　stand　by　him；　no　matter　what。　He　knew　about　Filmer's　threat；　you　know。　Filmer　said　in　front　of　all　of　us　that　he　knew　about　the　cats。'　He　looked　unseeingly　over　his　glass。　'It　wasn't　the　only　time　it　had　happened。　Sheridan　killed　two　cats　like　that　in　our　garden　when　he　was　fourteen。　We　got　therapy　for　him。。。。　They　said　it　was　the　upheaval　of　adolescence。'　He　paused。　'One　psychiatrist　said　Sheridan　was　psychopathic；　he　couldn't　help　what　he　did　。。。　but　he　could；　really；　most　of　the　time。　He　could　help　being　discourteous；　but　he　thought　being　rich　gave　him　the　right。。。　I　told　him　it　didn't。'
　　'Why　did　you　send　him　to　Cambridge？'　I　asked。
　　'My　father　was　there；　and　established　a　scholarship。　They　gave　it　to　Sheridan　as　thanks…as　a　gift。　He　couldn't　concentrate　long　enough　to　get　into　college　otherwise。　But　then。。。　the　Master　of　the　college　said　they　couldn't　keep　him；　scholarship　or　not；　and　I　understood。。。　of　course　they　couldn't。　We　thought　he　would　be　all　right　there。。。　we　so　hoped　he　would。'
　　They'd　spent　a　lot　of　hope　on　Sheridan；　I　thought。
　　'I　don't　know　if　he　meant　to　jump　this　morning　when　he　went　out　on　the　platform；'　Mercer　said。　'I　don't　know　if　it　was　just　an　impulse。　He　gave　way　to　impulses　very　easily。　Unreasonable　impulses。。。　almost　insane；　sometimes。'
　　'It　was　seductive；　out　there；'　I　said。　'Easy　to　jump。'
　　Mercer　looked　at　me　gratefully。　'Did　you　feel　it？'
　　'Sort　of。'
　　'Sheridan's　revelation　lasted　until　this　morning；'　he　said。
　　'Yes；'　I　said。　'I　saw。。。　when　I　brought　your　tea。'
　　'The　waiter。。。　'He　shook　his　head；　still　surprised。
　　'I'd　be　grateful；'　I　said；　'if　you　don't　tell　anyone　else　about　the　waiter。'
　　'Why　not？'
　　'Because　most　of　my　wor