preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第23部分

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　to　you。〃
　〃So　how　much　is　this　fee？〃　Nora　asked。
　〃Eighteen。〃
　〃Eighteen　what？　Dollars？〃
　〃Percent。　Of　the　first　year's　rent；　that　is。〃
　〃But　that's…〃　Nora　frowned；　did　the　calculation　in　her　head。　〃That's　close　to　four　thousand　dollars。〃
　〃It's　cheap；　considering　what　you're　getting。　And　I　promise　you；　if　you　don't　go　for　it；　the　next　person　will。〃　She　glanced　at　her　watch。　〃They'll　be　here　in　ten　minutes。　That's　how　much　time　you　have　to　make　your　decision。〃
　〃What　about　it；　Nora？〃　Smithback　asked。
　Nora　sighed。　〃I　have　to　think　about　this。〃
　〃We　don't　have　time　to　think　about　it。〃
　〃We　have　all　the　time　in　the　world。　This　isn't　the　only　apartment　in　Manhattan。〃
　There　was　a　brief；　frozen　silence。　The　real　estate　broker　glanced　again　at　her　watch。
　Nora　shook　her　head。　〃Bill；　I　told　you。　It's　been　a　bad　day。〃
　〃I　can　see　that。〃
　〃You　know　the　Shottum　collection　I　told　you　about？　Yesterday　we　found　a　letter；　a　terrible　letter；　hidden　among　that　collection。〃
　Smithback　felt　a　feeling　akin　to　panic　creeping　over　him。　〃Can　we　talk　about　this　later？　I　really　think　this　is　the　apartment…〃
　She　rounded　on　him；　her　face　dark。　〃Didn't　you　hear　what　I　said？　We　found　a　letter。　We　know　who　murdered　those　thirty…six　people！〃
　There　was　another　silence。　Smithback　glanced　over　at　the　real　estate　broker；　who　was　pretending　to　examine　a　window　frame。　Her　ears　were　practically　twitching。　〃You　do？〃　he　asked。
　〃He's　an　extremely　shadowy　figure　named　Enoch　Leng。　He　seems　to　have　been　a　taxonomist　and　a　chemist。　The　letter　was　written　by　a　man　named　Shottum；　who　owned　a　kind　of　museum　on　the　site；　called　Shottum's　Cabinet。　Leng　rented　rooms　from　Shottum　and　performed　experiments　in　them。　Shottum　grew　suspicious；　took　a　look　into　Leng's　lab　when　he　was　away。　He　discovered　that　Leng　had　been　kidnapping　people；　killing　them；　and　then　dissecting　out　part　of　their　central　nervous　system　and　processing　it…apparently；　for　self…administered　injections。〃
　〃Good　God。　What　for？〃
　Nora　shook　her　head。　〃You're　not　going　to　believe　this。　He　was　trying　to　extend　his　life　span。〃
　〃That's　incredible。〃　This　was　a　story…a　gigantic　story。　Smithback　glanced　over　at　the　real　estate　broker。　She　was　now　intently　examining　the　door　jambs；　her　next　appointment　seemingly　forgotten。
　〃That's　what　I　thought。〃　Nora　shuddered。　〃God；　I　just　can't　get　that　letter　out　of　my　head。　All　the　details　were　there。　And　Pendergast…you　should　have　seen　how　grim　his　face　was　while　he　was　reading　it。　Looked　as　if　he　was　reading　his　own　obituary　or　something。　And　then　this　morning；　when　I　went　down　to　check　on　some　more　Shottum　material　that　had　turned　up；　I　learn　that　orders　had　e　down　for　some　conservation　work　in　the　Archives。　All　the　Shottum　papers　were　included。　And　now；　they're　gone。　You　can't　tell　me　that's　coincidence。　It　was　either　Brisbane　or　Collopy；　I'm　sure　of　that；　but　of　course　I　can't　e　right　out　and　ask　them。〃
　〃Did　you　get　a　photocopy？〃
　The　dark　look　on　Nora's　face　lifted　slightly。　〃Pendergast　asked　me　to　make　one　after　we　first　read　the　letter。　I　didn't　understand　his　hurry　then。　I　do　now。〃
　〃Do　you　have　it？〃
　She　nodded　toward　her　briefcase。
　Smithback　thought　for　a　moment。　Nora　was　right：　the　conservation　orders；　of　course；　were　no　coincidence。　What　was　the　Museum　covering　up？　Who　was　this　man　Enoch　Leng？　Was　he　connected　to　the　early　Museum　in　some　way？　Or　was　it　just　the　usual　Museum　paranoia；　afraid　to　let　out　any　information　that　wasn't　buffed　and　polished　by　their　PR　people？　Then　of　course　there　was　Fairhaven；　the　developer；　who　also　happened　to　be　a　big　contributor　to　the　Museum　。　。　。　This　whole　story　was　getting　good。　Very　good。
　〃Can　I　see　the　letter？〃
　〃I　was　going　to　give　it　to　you　for　safekeeping…I　don't　dare　bring　it　back　into　the　Museum。　But　I　want　it　back　tonight。〃
　Smithback　nodded。　She　handed　him　a　thick　envelope；　which　he　shoved　into　his　briefcase。
　There　was　a　sudden　buzz　of　the　inter。
　〃There's　my　next　appointment；〃　said　the　broker。　〃Should　I　tell　them　you're　taking　it；　or　what？〃
　〃We're　not；〃　said　Nora　decisively。
　She　shrugged；　went　to　the　inter；　and　buzzed　them　in。
　〃Nora；〃　Smithback　implored。　He　turned　to　the　real　estate　agent。　〃We　are　taking　it。〃
　〃I'm　sorry；　Bill；　but　I'm　just　not　ready。〃
　〃But　last　week　you　said…〃
　〃I　know　what　I　said。　But　I　can't　think　about　apartments　at　a　time　like　this。　Okay？〃
　〃No；　it's　not　okay。〃
　The　doorbell　rang　and　the　broker　moved　to　open　the　door。　Two　men　came　in…one　bald　and　short；　one　tall　and　bearded…gave　the　living　room　a　quick　look；　swept　through　the　kitchen　and　into　the　bedrooms。
　〃Nora；　please；〃　Smithback　said。　〃Look；　I　know　this　move　to　New　York；　the　job　at　the　Museum；　hasn't　been　as　smooth　as　you　hoped。　I'm　sorry　about　that。　But　that　doesn't　mean　you　should…〃
　There　was　a　lengthy　interval　while　the　shower　was　being　turned　on；　then　off。　And　then　the　couple　were　back　in　the　living　room。　The　inspection　had　taken　less　than　two　minutes。
　〃It's　perfect；〃　said　the　bald　one。　〃Eighteen　percent　broker's　fee；　right？〃
　〃Right。〃
　〃Great。〃　A　checkbook　appeared。　〃Who　do　I　make　it　out　to？〃
　〃Cash。　We'll　take　it　to　your　bank。〃
　〃Now　wait　just　a　minute；〃　Smithback　said；　〃we　were　here　first。〃
　〃I'm　so　sorry；〃　said　one　of　the　men　politely；　turning　in　surprise。
　〃Don't　mind　them；〃　said　the　broker　harshly。　〃Those　people　are　on　their　way　out。〃
　〃e　on；　Bill。〃　Nora　began　urging　him　to　the　door。
　〃We　were　here　first！　I'll　take　it　myself；　if　I　have　to！〃
　There　was　a　snap　as　the　man　detached　the　check。　The　broker　reached　for　it。　〃I've　got　the　lease　right　here；〃　she　said；　patting　her　bag。　〃We　can　sign　it　at　the　bank。〃
　Nora　dragged　Smithback　out　the　door　and　slammed　it　shut。　The　ride　downstairs　was　silent　and　tense。
　A　moment　later；　they　were　standing　on　the　street。　〃I've　got　to　get　back　to　work；〃　Nora　said；　looking　away。　〃We　can　talk　about　this　tonight。〃
　〃We　certainly　will。〃
　Smithback　watched　her　stride　down　Ninety…ninth　Street　in　the　slanting　light；　the　trenchcoat　curling　away　from　her　perfect　little　behind；　her　long　copper　hair　swinging　back　and　forth。　He　felt　stricken。　After　all　they　had　been　through；　she　still　didn't　want　to　live　with　him。　What　had　he　done　wrong？　Sometimes　he　wondered　if　she　blamed　him　for　pressuring　her　to　move　east　from　Santa　Fe。　It　wasn't　his　fault　the　job　at　the　Lloyd　Museum　had　fallen　through　and　her　boss　here　in　Manhattan　was　a　prize　asshole。　How　could　he　change　her　mind？　How　could　he　prove　to　her　that　he　really　loved　her？
　An　idea　began　to　form　in　his　mind。　Nora　didn't　really　appreciate　the　power　of　the　press；　particularly　the　New　York　Times。　She　didn't　realize　just　how　cowed；　how　docile　and　cooperative；　the　Museum　could　be　when　faced　with　bad　publicity。　Yes；　he　thought；　this　would　work。　She　would　get　the　collections　back；　and　get　her　carbon…14　dating　funded；　and　more。　She　would　thank　him　in　the　end。　If　he　worked　fast；　he　could　even　make　the　early　edition。
　Smithback　heard　a　hearty　yell。　〃Hey；　friend！〃
　He　turned。　There　were　the　two　bums；　fiery…faced　now；　holding　on　to　each　other；　staggering　up　the　sidewalk。　One　of　them　lifted　a　paper　bag。　〃Have　a　drink　on　us！〃
　Smithback　took　out　another　twenty　and　held　it　up　in　front　of　the　bigger　and　dirtier　of　the　two。　〃Tell　you　what。　In　a　few　minutes；　you'll　see　a　thin　lady　dressed　in　black　e　out　of　this　building　with　two　guys。　Her　name's　Millie。　Give　her　a　really　big　hug　and　kiss　for　me；　will　you？　The　sloppier　the　better。〃
　〃You　bet！〃　The　man　snatched　the　bill　and　stuffed　it　into　his　pocket。
　Smithback　went　down　the　street　toward　Broadway；　feeling　marginally　better。
　
　EIGHT
　　
　ANTHONY　FAIRHAVEN　SETTLED　his　lean；　muscular　frame　into　the　chair；　spread　a　heavy　linen　napkin　across　his　lap；　and　examined　the　breakfast　that　lay　before　him。　It　was　minuscule；　yet　arrayed　with　excessive　care　on　the　crisp　white　damask：　a　china　glass　of　tea；　two　water　biscuits；　royal　jelly。　He　drained　the　tea　in　a　single　toss；　nibbled　absently　at　the　cracker；　then　wiped　his　lips　and　signaled　the　maid　for　his　papers　with　a　curt　motion。
　The　sun　streamed　in　through　the　curved　glass　wall　of　his　breakfast　atrium。　From　his　vantage　point　atop　the　Metropolitan　Tower；　all　of　M