preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第22部分

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zen　likely　candidates；　intercepted　thanks　to　a　man　in　the　mailroom　who　had　been　caught　organizing　a　Super　Bowl　pool　on　Museum　time。　With　any　luck；　he'd　find　plenty　of　exceptional　circumstances　inside。　It　was　easier…and　easier　to　justify…than　scanning　e…mail。
　Brisbane　shuffled　the　packets　without　interest。　Then　he　stopped；　glancing　at　one　of　them。　Here　was　a　case　in　point：　this　man　Puck。　He　sat　in　the　Archives　all　day　long；　doing　what？　Nothing；　except　causing　trouble　for　the　Museum。
　He　untied　the　packet；　riffled　through　the　envelopes　within。　On　the　front　and　back　of　each　were　dozens　of　lines　for　addresses。　The　envelopes　had　a　little　red　tie　string　and　could　be　reused　until　they　fell　apart；　simply　by　adding　a　new　name　to　the　next　blank　line。　And　there；　on　the　second…to…last　line　was　Puck's　name。　And　following　it　was　Nora's　name。
　Brisbane's　hand　tightened　around　the　envelope。　What　was　it　that　arrogant　FBI　agent；　Pendergast；　had　said？　Most　of　the　work　will　be　archival　in　nature。
　He　unwound　the　string　and　slid　out　a　single　piece　of　paper。　A　whiff　of　dust　rose　from　the　envelope　and　Brisbane　hastily　raised　a　protective　tissue　to　his　nose。　Holding　the　paper　at　arm's　length；　he　read：
　　
　Dear　Dr。　Kelly；
　I　found　another　small　box　of　papers　on　Shottum's　Cabinet；　which　somehow　had　been　recently　misplaced。　Not　nearly　as　astonishing　as　what　you　have　already　uncovered；　yet　interesting　in　its　own　way。　I　will　leave　it　for　you　in　the　Archives　Reading　Room。
　P。
　　
　Color　crept　into　Brisbane's　face；　then　drained　out　again。　It　was　just　as　he　thought：　she　was　still　working　for　that　arrogant　FBI　agent；　and　she　was　continuing　to　enlist　Puck's　help。　This　thing　had　to　be　stopped。　And　Puck　had　to　go。　Just　look　at　this　note；　Brisbane　thought：　manually　typed　on　what　was　clearly　an　ancient　typewriter。　The　very　inefficiency　of　it　made　Brisbane's　blood　boil。　The　Museum　was　not　a　welfare　program　for　eccentrics。　Puck　was　a　fossilized　anachronism　who　should　have　been　put　out　to　pasture　long　before。　He　would　gather　suitable　evidence；　then　draw　up　a　remended　termination　list　for　the　next　Executive　mittee　meeting。　Puck's　name　would　be　at　the　top。
　But　what　about　Nora？　He　remembered　the　words　of　the　Museum　director；　Collopy；　at　their　recent　meeting。　Doucement；　doucement；　the　director　had　murmured。
　And　softly　it　would　be。　For　now。
　
　SEVEN
　　
　SMITHBACK　STOOD　ON　the　sidewalk；　midway　between　Columbus　and　Amsterdam；　gazing　speculatively　up　at　the　red…brick　facade　before　him。　One　hundred　eight　West　Ninety…ninth　Street　was　a　broad；　prewar　apartment　house；　unembarrassed　by　any　distinguishing　architecture；　bright　in　the　noonday　sun。　The　bland　exterior　didn't　bother　him。　What　mattered　lay　within：　a　rent…stabilized；　two…bedroom　apartment；　near　the　Museum；　for　only　eighteen　hundred　a　month。
　He　stepped　back　toward　the　street；　giving　the　neighborhood　a　once…over。　It　wasn't　the　most　charming　Upper　West　Side　neighborhood　he　had　seen；　but　it　had　possibilities。　Two　bums　sat　on　a　nearby　stoop；　drinking　something　out　of　a　paper　bag。　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　Nora　would　be　arriving　in　five　minutes。　Christ；　this　was　going　to　be　an　uphill　battle　anyway；　if　only　those　bums　would　take　a　walk　around　the　corner。　He　fished　into　his　pocket；　found　a　five　dollar　bill；　and　sauntered　over。
　〃Nice　day　if　it　don't　rain；〃　he　said。
　The　bums　eyed　him　suspiciously。
　Smithback　brandished　the　five。　〃Hey；　guys；　go　buy　yourself　lunch；　okay？〃
　One　of　them　grinned；　exposing　a　row　of　decaying　teeth。　〃For　five　bucks？　Man；　you　can't　buy　a　cup　of　Starbucks　for　five　bucks。　And　my　legs　hurt。〃
　〃Yeah；〃　said　the　other；　wiping　his　nose。
　Smithback　pulled　out　a　twenty。
　〃Oh；　my　aching　legs…〃
　〃Take　it　or　leave　it。〃
　The　closest　bum　took　the　twenty　and　the　pair　rose　to　their　feet　with　histrionic　groans　and　sniffles。　Soon　they　were　shuffling　toward　the　corner；　heading　no　doubt　to　the　nearby　liquor　store　on　Broadway。　Smithback　watched　their　retreating　backs。　At　least　they　were　harmless　rummys；　and　not　crackheads　or　worse。　He　glanced　around　and　saw；　right　on　schedule；　a　blade…thin　woman　in　black　e　clicking　down　the　block；　a　bright；　fake　lipstick　smile　on　her　face。　The　real　estate　broker。
　〃You　must　be　Mr。　Smithback；〃　she　said　in　a　smoker's　croak　as　she　took　his　hand。　〃I'm　Millie　Locke。　I　have　the　key　to　the　apartment。　Is　your；　er；　partner　here？〃
　〃There　she　is　now。〃　Nora　had　just　rounded　the　corner；　cotton　trenchcoat　billowing；　knapsack　thrown　over　her　shoulder。　She　waved。
　When　Nora　arrived　the　agent　took　her　hand；　saying；　〃How　lovely。〃
　They　entered　a　dingy　lobby；　lined　on　the　left　with　mailboxes　and　on　the　right　with　a　large　mirror：　a　feeble　attempt　to　make　the　narrow　hall　look　bigger　than　it　actually　was。　They　pressed　the　button　for　the　elevator。　There　was　a　whir　and　a　rattle　somewhere　overhead。
　〃It's　a　perfect　location；〃　said　Smithback　to　Nora。　〃Twenty…minute　walk　to　the　Museum；　close　to　the　subway　station；　a　block　and　a　half　from　the　park。〃
　Nora　did　not　respond。　She　was　staring　at　the　elevator　door；　and　she　did　not　look　happy。
　The　elevator　creaked　open　and　they　stepped　in。　Smithback　waited　out　the　excruciatingly　long　ride；　silently　willing　the　damn　elevator　to　hurry　up。　He　had　the　unpleasant　feeling　that　he；　not　just　the　apartment；　was　undergoing　an　inspection。
　At　last　they　got　out　at　the　sixth　floor；　took　a　right　in　a　dim　hallway；　and　stopped　in　front　of　a　brown　metal　door　with　an　eyehole　set　into　it。　The　real　estate　broker　unlocked　four　separate　locks　and　swung　the　door　open。
　Smithback　was　pleasantly　surprised。　The　apartment　faced　the　street；　and　it　was　cleaner　than　he　expected。　The　floors　were　oak；　a　bit　warped；　but　oak　nevertheless。　One　wall　was　exposed　brick；　the　others　painted　sheetrock。
　〃Hey；　what　do　you　think？〃　he　said　brightly。　〃Pretty　nice；　huh？〃
　Nora　said　nothing。
　〃It's　the　bargain　of　the　century；〃　said　the　broker。　〃Eighteen　hundred　dollars；　rent…stabilized。　A/C。　Great　location。　Bright；　quiet。〃
　The　kitchen　had　old　appliances；　but　was　clean。　The　bedrooms　were　sunny　with　south…facing　windows；　which　gave　the　little　rooms　a　feeling　of　space。
　They　stopped　in　the　middle　of　the　living　room。　〃Well；　Nora；〃　Smithback　asked；　feeling　uncharacteristically　shy；　〃what　do　you　think？〃
　Nora's　face　was　dark；　her　brow　furrowed。　This　did　not　look　good。　The　real　estate　broker　withdrew　a　few　feet；　to　give　them　the　pretense　of　privacy。
　〃It's　nice；〃　she　said。
　〃Nice？　Eighteen　hundred　bucks　a　month　for　an　Upper　West　Side　two…bedroom？　In　a　prewar　building？　It's　awesome。〃
　The　real　estate　broker　leaned　back　toward　them。　〃You're　the　first　to　see　it。　I　guarantee　you　it'll　be　gone　before　sunset。〃　She　fumbled　in　her　purse；　removed　a　cigarette　and　a　lighter；　flicked　on　the　lighter；　and　then　with　both　hands　poised　inches　apart；　asked；　〃May　I？〃
　〃Are　you　all　right？〃　Smithback　asked　Nora。
　Nora　waved　her　hand；　took　a　step　toward　the　window。　She　appeared　to　be　looking　intently　at　something　far　away。
　〃You　did　talk　to　your　landlord　about　moving　out；　didn't　you？〃
　〃No；　not　quite　yet。〃
　Smithback　felt　his　heart　sink　a　little。　〃You　haven't　told　him？〃
　She　shook　her　head。
　The　sinking　feeling　grew　more　pronounced。　〃e　on；　Nora。　I　thought　we'd　decided　on　this。〃
　She　looked　out　a　window。　〃This　is　a　big　move　for　me；　Bill。　I　mean；　living　together　。　。　。〃　Her　voice　trailed　off。
　Smithback　glanced　around　at　the　apartment。　The　real　estate　broker　caught　his　eye；　quickly　looked　away。　He　lowered　his　voice。　〃Nora；　you　do　love　me；　right？〃
　She　continued　looking　out　the　window。　〃Of　course。　But　。　。　。　this　is　just　a　really　bad　day　for　me；　okay？〃
　〃It's　no　big　deal。　It's　not　like　we're　engaged。〃
　〃Let's　not　talk　about　it。〃
　〃Not　talk　about　it？　Nora；　this　is　the　apartment。　We're　never　going　to　find　a　better　one。　Let's　settle　the　broker's　fee。〃
　〃Broker's　fee？〃
　Smithback　turned　to　the　agent。　〃What　did　you　say　your　fee　was　for　this　place？〃
　The　agent　exhaled　a　cloud　of　smoke；　gave　a　little　cough。　〃I'm　glad　you　asked。　It's　quite　reasonable。　Of　course；　you　can't　just　rent　an　apartment　like　this。　I'm　doing　you　a　special　favor　just　showing　it　to　you。〃
　〃So　how　much　is　this　fee？〃　Nora　asked。
　〃Eighteen。〃
　〃Eighteen　what？　Dollars？〃
　〃