df.theedge-第74部分

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　　The　guards　said；　'Yes；　sir。'
　　They　moved　like　tanks。　Filmer；　humiliated　to　his　socks；　was　tugged　away　between　them　as　if　of　no　account。　One　might　almost　have　felt　sorry　for　him。。。　if　one　hadn't　remembered　Paul　Shacklebury　and　Ezra　Gideon　for　whom　he　had　had　no　pity。
　　Daffodil　Quentin's　eyes　were　stretched　wide　open。　She　came　over　and　looked　down　at　me　with　passion。
　　'You　poor　boy；'　she　said；　horrified。　'How　perfectly　dreadful。'
　　'Mr　Burley；'　Bill　Baudelaire　said　smoothly；　'would　you　be　so　kind　as　to　escort　Mrs　Quentin　for　us？　If　you　turn　right　in　the　passage；　you'll　find　some　double　doors　ahead　of　you。　Through　there　is　the　reception　room　where　the　passengers　and　the　other　owners　from　the　train　are　gathering　for　cocktails　and　lunch。　Would　you　take　Mrs　Quentin　there？　We'll　look　after　this　crewman。。。　get　him　some　help　。。。。　And　we　would　be　pleased　if　you　could　yourself　stay　for　lunch。'
　　George　said　to　me；　'Are　you　all　right；　Tommy？'　and　I　said；　'Yes；　George；'　and　he　chuckled　with　kind　relief　and　said　it　would　be　a　pleasure；　eh？；　to　stay　for　lunch。
　　He　stood　back　to　let　Daffodil　lead　the　way　out　of　the　far　door；　and　when　she　reached　there　she　paused　and　looked　back。
　　'The　poor　boy；'　she　said　again。　'Julius　Filmer's　a　beast。'
　　The　Vancouver　Jockey　Club　men　rose　and　made　courteous　noises　of　sympathy　in　my　direction；　said　they　would　hand　Filmer　on　to　the　police　with　a　report　of　the　assault；　said　we　would　no　doubt　be　needed　to　make　statements　later。　They　then　followed　Daffodil；　as　they　were　the　hosts　of　the　party。
　　When　they'd　gone；　the　Brigadier　switched　off　the　machine　that　had　recorded　every　word。
　　'Poor　boy；　my　foot；'　he　said　to　me。　'You　chose　to　let　him　hit　you。　I　saw　you。'
　　I　smile　a　little　ruefully；　acknowledging　his　perception。
　　'He　couldn't！'　Mercer　protested；　drawing　nearer。　'No　one　could　just　let　himself　be。。。　…'
　　'He　could　and　he　did。'　The　Brigadier　came　round　from　behind　the　desk。　'Quick　thinking。　Brilliant。'
　　'But　why？'　Mercer　said。
　　'To　tie　the　slippery　Mr　Filmer　in　tighter　knots。'　The　Brigadier　stood　in　front　of　me；　put　a　casual　hand　down　to　mine　and　pulled　me　to　my　feet。
　　'Did　you　truly？'　Mercer　said　to　me　in　disbelief。
　　'Mm。'　I　nodded　and　straightened　a　bit；　trying　not　to　wince。
　　'Don't　worry　about　him；'　the　Brigadier　said。　'He　used　to　ride　bucking　broncos；　and　God　knows　what　else。'
　　The　three　of　them　stood　as　in　a　triumvirate；　looking　at　me　in　my　uniform；　as　if　I'd　e　from　a　different　planet。
　　'I　sent　him　on　the　train；'　the　Brigadier　said；　'to　stop　Filmer　doing　whatever　he　was　planning。'　He　smiled　briefly。　'A　sort　of　match。。。　a　two…horse　race。'
　　'It　seems　to　have　been　neck　and　neck　now　and　then；'　Mercer　said。
　　The　Brigadier　considered　it。　'Maybe。　But　our　runner　had　the　edge。'
　　Mercer　Lorrimore　and　I　watched　the　races　from　a　smaller　room　next　to　the　large　one　where　the　reception　was　taking　place。　We　were　in　the　racecourse　President's　private　room；　to　which　he　could　retire　with　friends　if　he　wanted　to；　and　it　was　furnished　accordingly　in　extreme　fort　and　soft　turquoise　and　gold。
　　The　President　had　been　disappointed　but　understanding　that　Mercer　felt　he　couldn't　attend　the　lunch　party　so　soon　after　his　son's　death；　and　had　offered　this　room　instead。　Mercer　had　asked　if　I　might　join　him；　so　he　and　I　drank　the　President's　champagne　and　looked　down　from　his　high　window　to　the　track　far　below；　and　talked　about　Filmer；　mostly。
　　'I　liked　him；　you　know；'　Mercer　said；　wonderingly。
　　'He　can　be　charming。'
　　'Bill　Baudelaire　tried　to　warn　me　at　Winnipeg。'　he　said；　'but　I　wouldn't　listen。　I　really　thought　that　his　trial　had　been　a　travesty；　and　that　he　was　innocent。　He　told　me　about　it　himself。。。　he　said　he　didn't　bear　the　Jockey　Club　any　malice。'
　　I　smiled。　'Extreme　malice；'　I　said。　'He　threatened　them　to　their　faces　that　he　would　throw　any　available　spanner　into　their　international　works。　McLachlan　was　some　spanner。'
　　Mercer　sat　down　in　one　of　the　huge　armchairs。　I　stayed　standing　by　the　window。
　　'Why　was　Filmer　prosecuted；'　he　asked；　'if　there　was　such　a　poor　case？'
　　'There　was　a　cast…iron　case；'　I　said。　'Filmer　sent　a　particularly　vicious　frightener　to　intimidate　all　four　prosecution　witnesses；　and　the　cast　iron　became　splinters。　This　time　。。。　this　morning。。。　we　thought　we'd　stage　a　sort　of　preliminary　trial；　at　which　the　witness　couldn't　have　been　reached；　and　have　it　all　on　record　in　case　anyone　retracted　afterwards。'
　　He　looked　at　me　sceptically。　'Did　you　think　I　could　be　intimidated？　I　assure　you　I　can't。　Not　any　more。'
　　After　a　pause　I　said；　'You　have　Xanthe。　Ezra　Gideon　had　daughters　and　grandchildren。　One　of　the　witnesses　in　the　Paul　Shacklebury　case　backed　away　because　of　what　she　was　told　would　happen　to　her　sixteen…year…old　daughter　if　she　gave　evidence。'
　　'Dear　God；'　he　said；　dismayed。　'Surely　he'll　be　sent　to　prison。'
　　'He'll　be　warned　off；　anyhow；　and　that's　what　he　wants　least。　He　had　Paul　Shacklebury　killed　to　prevent　it。　I　think　we　will　have　got　rid　of　him　from　racing。　For　the　rest。。。　we'll　have　to　see　what　the　Canadian　police　and　VIA　Rail　can　do；　and　hope　they'll　find　McLachlan。'
　　Let　McLachlan　not　be　eaten　by　a　bear；　I　thought。　（And　he　hadn't　been：　he　was　picked　up　for　a　stealing　tools　from　a　railway　yard　in　Edmonton　a　week　later；　and　subsequently　convicted　with　Filmer　of　the　serious　ancient　offence　of　attempted　train…wrecking；　chiefly　on　the　evidence　of　a　temporary　crew　member　in　his　VIA　Rail　clothes。　VIA　put　me　on　their　personnel　list　retroactively；　and　shook　my　hand。　Filmer　was　imprisoned　despite　his　defence　that　he　had　not　given　specific　instructions　to　McLachlan　on　any　count　and　had　tried　to　stop　him　before　the　end。　It　was　proved　that　he　had　actively　recruited　a　violent　saboteur：　any　later　possible　change　of　mind　was　held　to　be　irrelevant。　Filmer　never　did　find　out　that　I　wasn't　a　waiter；　because　it　wasn't　a　question　his　lawyers　ever　thought　to　ask；　and　it　went　much　against　him　with　the　jury　that　he'd　violently　attacked　a　defenceless　rail　employee　without　provocation　in　front　of　many　witnesses　even　though　he　knew　of　the　broken　scapula。　The　Brigadier　kept　a　straight　face　throughout。　'It　worked　a　treat；'　he　said　afterwards。　'Wasn't　Daffodil　Quentin　a　trouper；　convincing　them　the　poor　boy　had　been　brutally　beaten　for　no　reason　except　that　he'd　saved　them　all　from　being　killed　in　their　beds？　Lovely　stuff。　It　made　nonsense　of　the　change…of…heart　defence。　They　couldn't　wait　to　find　Filmer　guilty　after　that。'　McLachlan　in　his　turn　swore　that　I'd　nearly　murdered　him；　out　on　the　track。　I　said　he'd　tripped　and　knocked　himself　out　on　the　rails。　McLachlan　could　produce　no　X…rays　and　wasn't　believed；　to　his　fury。　'Broken　bone　or　not；　that　waiter　can　fight　like　a　goddam　tiger；'　he　said。　'No　way　could　Filmer　beat　him　up。'　Filmer　however　had　done　so。　It　had　been　seen；　and　was　a　fact。'
　　On　the　Tuesday　of　the　Jockey　Club　Race　Train　Stakes　at　Exhibition　Park；　with　the　trial　still　months　ahead；　and　the　feel　of　Filmer's　fists　a　reality　not　a　memory；　the　racecourse　President　came　into　his　private　room　to　see　Mercer　and　me　and　to　show　us　that　if　we　drew　the　curtains　along　the　right…hand　side　wall；　we　could　see　into　the　reception　room。
　　'They　can't　see　into　here；'　he　said。　'It's　one…way　glass。'　He　pulled　strings　and　revealed　the　party。　'I　hear　the　meeting　went　well　this　morning　except　for　the　end。'　He　looked　at　me　questioningly。　'Mr　Lorrimore　and　Bill　Baudelaire　asked　that　you　be　treated　as　a　most　honoured　guest。。。　but　shouldn't　you　be　resting？'
　　'No　point；　sir；'　I　said；　'and　I　wouldn't　miss　the　great　race　for　anything。'
　　Through　the　window　one　could　fascinatingly　see　all　the　faces　grown　so　familiar　during　the　past　ten　days。　The　Unwins；　the　Redi…Hots；　the　Youngs。。。
　　'If　I　might　ask　you…？'　I　said。
　　'Ask　the　world；　according　to　Bill　Baudelaire　and　Brigadier　Catto。'
　　I　smiled。　'Not　the　world。　That　young　woman　over　there　in　the　grey　suit；　with　the　fair　hair　in　a　plait　and　a　worried　expression。'
　　'Nell　Richmond；'　Mercer　said。
　　'Would　you　mind　if　she　came　in　here　for　a　while？'
　　'Not　in　the　least；'　the　President　said；　and　within　minutes　could　be　seen　talking　to