preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第72部分

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　But　the　silence　was　profound；　and　he　hesitated。　The　collections　below　were　worth　a　brief　look。　The　interior　of　this　house　and　its　collections　would　play　a　big　role　in　his　article。　He　would　go　down　for　a　moment…just　a　moment…to　see　what　lay　beneath　some　of　the　sheets。　He　took　a　careful　step；　and　then　another　。　。　。　and　then　he　heard　a　soft　click　behind　him。　He　spun　around；　heart　pounding。
　At　first；　nothing　looked　different。　And　then　he　realized　that　the　door　from　which　he'd　entered　the　hallway　must　have　closed。　He　breathed　a　sigh　of　relief：　a　gust　of　wind　had　e　through　the　broken　window　and　pushed　the　door　shut。
　He　continued　down　the　sweeping　marble　staircase；　hand　clutching　the　banister。　At　the　bottom　he　paused；　screwing　up　his　eyes；　peering　into　the　even　more　pronounced　darkness。　The　smell　of　rot　and　decay　seemed　stronger　here。
　His　eyes　focused　on　an　object　in　the　center　of　the　hall。　One　of　the　sheets　had　bee　so　decayed　that　it　had　already　fallen　from　the　object　it　covered。　In　the　darkness　it　looked　strange；　misshapen。　Smithback　took　a　step　forward；　peering　intently…and　suddenly　he　realized　what　it　was：　the　mounted　specimen　of　a　small　carnivorous　dinosaur。　But　this　dinosaur　was　extraordinarily　well　preserved；　with　fossilized　flesh　still　clinging　to　the　bones；　some　fossilized　internal　organs；　even　huge　swaths　of　fossilized　skin。　And　covering　the　skin　were　the　unmistakable　outlines　of　feathers。
　Smithback　stood；　dumbstruck。　It　was　an　astounding　specimen；　of　incalculable　value　to　science。　Recent　scientists　had　theorized　that　some　dinosaurs；　even　T。　Rex；　might　have　had　a　covering　of　feathers。　Here　was　the　proof。　He　glanced　down：　a　brass　label　read　Unknown　coeloraptor　from　Red　Deer　River；　Alberta；　Canada。
　Smithback　turned　his　attention　to　the　cabinets；　his　eye　falling　on　a　series　of　human　skulls。　He　moved　closer。　The　little　brass　label　below　them　read：　Hominidae　series　from　Swartkopje　Cave；　South　Africa。　Smithback　could　hardly　believe　his　eyes。　He　knew　enough　about　hominid　fossils　to　know　they　were　exceedingly　rare。　These　dozen　skulls　were　some　of　the　most　plete　he　had　ever　seen。　They　would　revolutionize　hominid　studies。
　His　eye　caught　a　gleam　from　the　next　cabinet。　He　stepped　up　to　it。　It　was　crowded　with　gemstones；　and　his　eye　landed　on　a　large；　green　cut　stone　the　size　of　a　robin's　egg。　The　label　below　read　Diamond；　flawless　specimen　from　Novotney　Terra；　Siberia；　216　carats；　believed　to　be　the　only　green　diamond　in　existence。　Next　to　it；　in　an　especially　large　case；　were　immense　star　rubies；　sapphires；　and　more　exotic　stones　with　names　he　could　hardly　pronounce；　winking　in　the　dim　recesses…gemstones　equal　to　the　finest　ones　at　the　New　York　Museum。　They　seemed　to　have　been　given　star　billing　among　the　other　exhibits。　On　a　nearby　shelf　lay　a　series　of　gold　crystals；　perfectly　beautiful；　lacy　as　frost；　one　as　large　as　a　grapefruit。　Below　lay　rows　of　tektites；　mostly　black　misshapen　things；　but　some　with　a　beautiful　deep　green　or　violet　coloring。
　Smithback　took　a　step　back；　his　mind　wrestling　with　the　richness　and　variety　of　the　display。　To　think　all　this　has　stood　here；　in　this　ruined　house；　for　a　hundred　years　。　。　。　He　turned　away　and；　on　impulse；　reached　out　and　twitched　off　the　sheet　from　a　small　specimen　behind　him。　The　sheet　dissolved；　and　a　strange　stuffed　animal　greeted　his　eye：　a　large；　tapirlike　mammal　with　a　huge　muzzle；　powerful　forelegs；　bulbous　head；　and　curving　tusks。　It　was　like　nothing　he　had　ever　seen　before；　a　freak。　He　bent　down　to　make　out　the　dim　label：　Only　known　specimen　of　the　Tusked　Megalopedus；　described　by　Pliny；　thought　to　be　fantastical　until　this　specimen　was　shot　in　the　Belgian　Congo　by　the　English　explorer　Col。　Sir　Henry　F。　Moreton；　in　1869。
　Good　lord；　thought　Smithback：　could　it　be　true？　A　large　mammal；　pletely　unknown　to　science？　Or　was　it　a　fake？　Suddenly　the　thought　occurred　to　him：　could　all　these　be　fakes？　But　as　he　looked　around；　he　realized　they　were　not。　Leng　would　not　have　collected　fakes；　and　even　in　the　dim　light　he　could　see　that　these　were　real。　These　were　real。　And　if　the　rest　of　the　collections　in　the　house　were　like　this；　they　constituted　possibly　the　greatest　natural　history　collection　in　the　world。　This　was　no　mere　cabinet　of　curiosities。　It　was　too　dark　to　take　notes；　but　Smithback　knew　he　wouldn't　need　notes：　what　he　had　seen　had　been　imprinted　upon　his　mind　forever。
　Only　once　in　a　lifetime　was　a　reporter　given　such　a　story。
　He　jerked　away　another　sheet；　and　was　greeted　by　the　massive；　rearing　fossil　skeleton　of　a　short…faced　cave　bear；　caught　in　a　silent　roar；　its　black　teeth　like　daggers。　The　engraved　brass　label　on　the　oak　mounting　stand　indicated　it　had　been　pulled　from　the　Kutz　Canyon　Tar　Pits；　in　New　Mexico。
　He　whispered　through　the　reception　hall　on　his　stockinged　feet；　pulling　off　additional　sheets；　exposing　a　whole　row　of　Pleistocene　mammals…each　one　a　magnificent　specimen　as　fine　or　finer　than　any　in　a　museum…ending　with　a　series　of　Neanderthal　skeletons；　perfectly　preserved；　some　with　weapons；　tools；　and　one　sporting　some　sort　of　necklace　made　out　of　teeth。
　Glancing　to　one　side；　he　noticed　a　marble　archway　leading　into　a　room　beyond。　In　its　center　of　the　room　was　a　huge；　pitted　meteorite；　at　least　eight　feet　in　diameter；　surrounded　by　rows　upon　rows　of　additional　cabinets。
　It　was　ruby　in　color。
　This　was　almost　beyond　belief。
　He　looked　away；　turning　his　attention　to　the　objects　ranged　about　mahogany　shelves　on　a　nearby　wall。　There　were　bizarre　masks；　flint　spearpoints；　a　skull　inlaid　with　turquoise；　bejeweled　knives；　toads　in　jars；　thousands　of　butterflies　under　glass：　everything　arranged　with　the　utmost　attention　to　systematics　and　classification。
　He　noticed　that　the　light　fixtures　weren't　electric。　They　were　gas；　each　with　a　little　pipe　leading　up　into　a　mantle；　covered　by　a　cut…glass　shade。　It　was　incredible。　It　had　to　be　Leng's　house；　just　as　he　had　left　it。　It　was　as　if　he　had　walked　out　of　the　house；　boarded　it　up；　and　left　。　。　。
　Smithback　paused；　his　excitement　suddenly　abating。　Obviously；　the　house　hadn't　remained　like　this；　untouched；　since　Leng's　death。　There　must　be　a　caretaker　who　came　regularly。　Somebody　had　put　tin　over　the　windows　and　draped　the　collections。　The　feeling　that　the　house　was　not　empty；　that　someone　was　still　there；　swept　over　him　again。
　The　silence；　the　watchful　exhibits　and　grotesque　specimens；　the　overpowering　darkness　that　lay　in　the　corners　of　the　room…and；　most　of　all；　the　rising　stench　of　rot…brought　a　growing　unease　that　would　not　be　denied。　He　shuddered　involuntarily。　What　was　he　doing？　There　was　already　enough　here　for　a　Pulitzer。　He　had　the　story：　now；　be　smart　and　get　the　hell　out。
　He　turned　and　swiftly　climbed　the　stairs；　passing　the　chimpanzee　and　the　paintings…and　then　he　paused。　All　the　doors　along　the　hall　were　closed；　and　it　seemed　even　darker　than　it　had　a　few　minutes　before。　He　realized　he　had　forgotten　which　door　he　had　e　through。　It　was　near　the　end　of　the　hall；　that　much　he　remembered。　He　approached　the　most　likely；　tried　the　handle；　and　to　his　surprise　found　it　locked。　Must　have　guessed　wrong；　he　thought；　moving　to　the　next。
　That；　too；　was　locked。
　With　a　rising　sense　of　alarm　he　tried　the　door　on　the　other　side。　It　was　locked；　as　well。　So　was　the　next；　and　the　next。　With　a　chill　prickling　his　spine；　he　tried　the　rest…all；　every　one；　securely　locked。
　Smithback　stood　in　the　dark　hallway；　trying　to　control　the　sudden　panic　that　threatened　to　paralyze　his　limbs。
　He　was　locked　in。
　
　FOUR
　　
　CUSTER'S　UNMARKED　CRUISER　pulled　up　with　a　satisfying　squeal　of　rubber　before　the　Museum's　security　entrance；　five　squad　cars　skidding　up　around　him；　sirens　wailing；　light　bars　throwing　red　and　white　stripes　across　the　Romanesque　Revival　facade。　He　rolled　out　of　the　squad　car　and　strode　decisively　up　the　stone　steps；　a　sea　of　blue　in　his　wake。
　At　the　impromptu　meeting　with　his　top　detectives；　and　then　in　the　ride　uptown　to　the　Museum；　the　theory　that　had　hit　him　like　a　thunderclap　became　a　firm；　unshakable　conviction。　Surprise　and　speed　is　the　way　to　go　in　this　case；　he　thought　as　he　looked　up　at　the　huge　pile　of　granite。　Hit　'em　hard　and　fast；　leave　them　reeling…