preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第49部分

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　Relief　disappeared　as　quickly　as　it　had　e。　She　had　not　outrun　him。　No　matter　what　she　did；　no　matter　where　she　ran；　he　had　continued　to　pace　her；　one　aisle　over。
　〃Who　are　you？〃　she　asked。
　There　was　a　faint　rustle；　then　an　almost　silent　laugh。
　Nora　looked　to　the　left　and　right；　fighting　back　panic；　desperately　trying　to　determine　the　best　way　out。　These　shelves　were　covered　with　stacks　of　folded　skins；　parchment…dry；　smelling　fearfully　of　decay。　Nothing　looked　familiar。
　Twenty　feet　farther　down　the　aisle；　she　spied　a　gap　in　the　shelving；　on　the　side　away　from　the　unknown　presence。　She　sprinted　ahead　and　turned　into　the　gap；　then　doubled　back　into　yet　another　adjoining　aisle。　She　stopped；　crouched；　waited。
　Footfalls　sounded　several　aisles　over；　ing　closer；　then　receding　again。　He　had　lost　her。
　Nora　turned　and　began　moving；　as　stealthily　as　possible；　through　the　aisles；　trying　to　put　as　much　distance　as　possible　between　herself　and　the　pursuer。　But　no　matter　which　way　she　turned；　or　how　fast　she　ran；　whenever　she　stopped　she　could　hear　the　footfalls；　rapid　and　purposeful；　seeming　to　keep　pace。
　She　had　to　figure　out　where　she　was。　If　she　kept　running　around　aimlessly；　eventually　he…it…would　catch　her。
　She　looked　around。　This　aisle　ended　in　a　wall。　She　was　at　the　edge　of　the　Archives。　Now；　at　least；　she　could　follow　the　wall；　make　her　way　to　the　front。
　Crouching；　she　moved　along　as　quickly　as　she　could；　listening　intently　for　the　sound　of　footsteps；　her　eye　scanning　the　dimness　ahead。　Suddenly；　something　yawned　out　from　the　gloom：　it　was　a　triceratops　skull；　mounted　on　the　wall；　its　outlines　shadowy　and　vague　in　the　poor　light。
　Relief　flooded　through　her。　Puck　must　be　around　here　somewhere；　the　intruder　wouldn't　dare　approach　them　simultaneously。
　She　opened　her　mouth　to　call　out　softly。　But　then　she　paused；　looking　more　closely　at　the　dim　outline　of　the　dinosaur。　Something　was　odd…the　silhouette　was　all　wrong。　She　began　to　move　cautiously　toward　it。　And　then；　abruptly；　she　stopped　once　again。
　There；　impaled　on　the　horns　of　the　triceratops；　hung　a　body；　naked　from　the　waist　up；　arms　and　legs　hanging　loose。　Three　bloody　horns　stuck　right　through　the　man's　back。　It　looked　as　if　the　triceratops　had　gored　the　person；　hoisting　him　into　the　air。
　Nora　took　a　step　back。　Her　mind　took　in　the　details；　as　if　from　a　long　distance　away：　the　balding　head　with　a　fringe　of　gray　hair；　the　flabby　skin；　the　withered　arms。　Where　the　horns　had　speared　through　the　lower　back；　the　flesh　was　one　long；　open　wound。　Blood　had　collected　around　the　base　of　the　horns；　running　in　dark　rivulets　around　the　torso　and　dripping　onto　the　marble。
　I'm　on　the　triceratops　in　the　back。
　In　the　back。
　She　heard　a　scream；　realized　that　it　had　e　from　her　own　throat。
　Blindly；　she　wheeled　away　and　ran；　veering　once；　and　again；　and　then　again；　racing　down　the　aisles　as　quickly　as　she　could　move　her　legs。　And　then；　abruptly；　she　found　herself　in　a　cul…de…sac。　She　spun　to　retrace　her　steps…and　there；　blocking　the　end　of　the　row；　stood　an　antique；　black…hatted　figure。
　Something　gleamed　in　his　gloved　hands。
　There　was　nowhere　to　go　but　up。　Without　an　instant's　thought；　she　turned；　grabbed　the　edge　of　a　shelf；　and　began　climbing。
　The　figure　came　flying　down　the　aisle；　black　cloak　billowing　behind。
　Nora　was　an　experienced　rock　climber。　Her　years　as　an　archaeologist　in　Utah；　climbing　to　caves　and　Anasazi　cliff　dwellings；　were　not　forgotten。　In　a　minute　she　had　reached　the　top　shelf；　which　swayed　and　groaned　under　the　unexpected　weight。　She　turned　frantically；　grabbed　the　first　thing　that　came　to　hand…a　stuffed　falcon…and　looked　down　once　again。
　The　black…hatted　man　was　already　below；　climbing；　face　obscured　in　deep　shadow。　Nora　aimed；　then　threw。
　The　falcon　bounced　harmlessly　off　one　shoulder。
　She　looked　around　desperately　for　something　else。　A　box　of　papers；　another　stuffed　animal；　more　boxes。　She　threw　one；　then　another。　But　they　were　too　light；　useless。
　Still　the　man　climbed。
　With　a　sob　of　terror；　she　swung　over　the　top　shelf　and　started　descending　the　other　side。　Abruptly；　a　gloved　hand　darted　between　the　shelving；　caught　hold　of　her　shirt。　Nora　screamed；　ripping　herself　free。　A　dim　flash　of　steel　and　a　tiny　blade　swept　past　her；　missing　her　eye　by　inches。　She　swung　away　as　the　blade　made　another　glittering　arc　toward　her。　Pain　abruptly　blossomed　in　her　right　shoulder。
　She　cried　out；　lost　her　grip。　Landing　on　her　feet；　she　broke　her　fall　by　rolling　to　one　side。
　On　the　far　side　of　the　shelving；　the　man　had　quickly　climbed　back　down　to　the　ground。　Now　he　began　climbing　directly　through　the　shelf；　kicking　and　knocking　specimen　jars　and　boxes　aside。
　Again　she　ran；　running　wildly；　blindly；　from　aisle　to　aisle。
　Suddenly；　a　vast　shape　rose　out　of　the　dimness　before　her。　It　was　a　woolly　mammoth。　Nora　recognized　it　immediately：　she'd　been　here；　once　before；　with　Puck。
　But　which　direction　was　out？　As　she　looked　around；　Nora　realized　she　would　never　make　it…the　pursuer　would　be　upon　her　in　a　matter　of　seconds。
　Suddenly；　she　knew　there　was　only　one　thing　to　do。
　Reaching　for　the　light　switches　at　the　end　of　the　aisle；　she　brushed　them　off　with　a　single　movement；　plunging　the　surrounding　corridors　once　again　into　darkness。　Quickly；　she　felt　beneath　the　mammoth's　scratchy　belly。　There　it　was：　a　wooden　lever。　She　tugged；　and　the　trap　door　fell　open。
　Trying　to　make　as　little　noise　as　possible；　she　climbed　into　the　hot；　stuffy　belly；　pulling　the　trapdoor　up　behind　her。
　Then　she　waited；　inside　the　mammoth。　The　air　stank　of　rot；　dust；　jerked　meat；　mushrooms。
　She　heard　a　rapid　series　of　clicks。　The　lights　came　back　on。　A　stray　beam　worked　through　a　small　hole　in　the　animal's　chest：　an　eyehole；　for　the　circus　worker。
　Nora　looked　out；　trying　to　control　her　rapid　breathing；　to　push　away　the　panic　that　threatened　to　overwhelm　her。　The　man　in　the　derby　hat　stood　not　five　feet　away；　back　turned。　Slowly；　he　rotated　himself　through　360　degrees；　looking；　listening　intently。　He　was　holding　a　strange　instrument　in　his　hands：　two　polished　ivory　handles　joined　by　a　thin；　flexible　steel　saw　with　tiny　serrations。　It　looked　like　some　kind　of　dreadful　antique　surgical　instrument。　He　flexed　it；　causing　the　steel　wire　to　bend　and　shimmy。
　His　gaze　came　to　rest　on　the　mammoth。　He　took　a　step　toward　it；　his　face　in　shadow。　It　was　as　if　he　knew　this　was　where　she　was　hiding。　Nora　tensed；　readying　herself　to　fight　to　the　end。
　And　then；　just　as　suddenly　as　he'd　approached；　he　was　gone。
　〃Mr。　Puck？〃　a　voice　was　calling。　〃Mr。　Puck；　I'm　here！　Mr。　Puck？〃
　It　was　Oscar　Gibbs。
　Nora　waited；　too　terrified　to　move。　The　voice　came　closer　and；　finally；　Oscar　Gibbs　appeared　around　the　corner　of　the　aisle。
　〃Mr。　Puck？　Where　are　you？〃
　With　a　trembling　hand；　Nora　reached　down；　unlatched　the　trapdoor；　and　lowered　herself　out　of　the　belly　of　the　mammoth。　Gibbs　turned；　jumped　back；　and　stood　there；　staring　at　her　open…mouthed。
　〃Did　you　see　him？〃　Nora　gasped。　〃Did　you　see　him？〃
　〃Who？　What　were　you　doing　in　there？　Hey；　you're　bleeding！〃
　Nora　looked　at　her　shoulder。　There　was　a　spreading　stain　of　blood　where　the　scalpel　had　nicked　her。
　Gibbs　came　closer。　〃Look；　I　don't　know　what　you're　doing　here；　or　what's　going　on；　but　let's　get　you　to　the　nurse's　office。　Okay？〃
　Nora　shook　her　head。　〃No。　Oscar；　you　have　to　call　the　police；　right　away。　Mr。　Puck〃…her　voice　broke　for　a　moment…〃Mr。　Puck's　been　murdered。　And　the　murderer　is　right　here。　In　the　Museum。〃
　
　Many　Worm
　
　ONE
　　
　BILL　SMITHBACK　HAD　managed；　with　a　little　name…dropping　here　and　a　little　intimidation　there；　to　get　the　best　seat　in　the　house。　〃The　house〃　was　the　press　room　of　One　Police　Plaza；　a　cavernous　space　painted　the　institutional　color　known　universally　as　Vomit　Green。　It　was　now　filled　to　overflowing　with　scurrying　television　news　crews　and　frantic　journalists。　Smithback　loved　the　electric　atmosphere　of　a　big　press　conference；　called　hastily　after　some　dreadful　event；　packed　with　city　officials　and　police　brass　laboring　under　the　misapprehension　that　they　could　spin　the　unruly　fourth　estate　of　New　York。
　He　remained　in　his　seat；　calm；　leg