preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第83部分

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　〃Good　evening；　Mr。　Pendergast；〃　the　guard　said　at　his　approach；　stepping　out　of　the　sentry　box。　An　envelope　lay　in　his　white…gloved　hand。　The　sight　of　the　envelope　sent　Pendergast's　dread　soaring。
　〃Thank　you；　Johnson；〃　Pendergast　replied；　without　taking　the　envelope。　〃Did　Sergeant　O'Shaughnessy　e　by；　as　I　mentioned　he　would？〃
　〃No　sir。　He　hasn't　been　by　all　evening。〃
　Pendergast　grew　more　pensive；　and　there　was　a　long　moment　of　silence。　〃I　see。　Did　you　take　delivery　of　this　envelope？〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃From　whom；　may　I　ask？〃
　〃A　nice；　old…fashioned　sort　of　gent；　sir。〃
　〃In　a　derby　hat？〃
　〃Precisely；　sir。〃
　Pendergast　scanned　the　crisp　copperplate　on　the　front　of　the　envelope：　For　A。　X。　L。　Pendergast；　Esq。；　D。　Phil。；　The　Dakota。　Personal　and　Confidential。　The　envelope　was　handmade　from　a　heavy；　old…fashioned　laid　paper；　with　a　deckle　edge。　It　was　precisely　the　sort　of　paper　made　by　the　Pendergast　family's　private　stationer。　Although　the　envelope　was　yellow　with　age；　the　writing　on　it　was　fresh。
　Pendergast　turned　to　the　guard。　〃Johnson；　may　I　borrow　your　gloves？〃
　The　doorman　was　too　well　trained　to　show　surprise。　Donning　the　gloves；　Pendergast　slipped　into　the　halo　of　light　around　the　sentry　box　and　broke　the　envelope's　seal　with　the　back　of　his　hand。　Very　gingerly；　he　bowed　it　open；　looking　inside。　There　was　a　single　sheet　of　paper；　folded　once。　In　the　crease　lay　a　single　small；　grayish　fiber。　To　the　untrained　eye；　it　looked　like　a　bit　of　fishing　line。　Pendergast　recognized　it　as　a　human　nerve　strand；　undoubtedly　from　the　cauda　equina　at　the　base　of　the　spinal　cord。
　There　was　no　writing　on　the　folded　sheet。　He　angled　it　toward　the　light；　but　there　was　nothing　else　at　all；　not　even　a　watermark。
　At　that　moment；　his　cell　phone　rang。
　Putting　the　envelope　carefully　aside；　Pendergast　plucked　his　phone　from　his　suit　pocket　and　raised　it　to　his　ear。
　〃Yes？〃　He　spoke　in　a　calm；　neutral　voice。
　〃It's　Nora。　Listen；　Smithback　figured　out　where　Leng　lives。〃
　〃And？〃
　〃I　think　he　went　up　there。　I　think　he　went　into　the　house。〃
　
　The　Search
　
　ONE
　　
　NORA　WATCHED　THE　Silver　Wraith　approach　her　at　an　alarming　speed；　weaving　through　the　Central　Park　West　traffic；　red　light　flashing　incongruously　on　its　dashboard。　The　car　screeched　to　a　stop　alongside　her　as　the　rear　door　flew　open。
　〃Get　in！〃　called　Pendergast。
　She　jumped　inside；　the　sudden　acceleration　throwing　her　back　against　the　white　leather　of　the　seat。
　Pendergast　had　lowered　the　center　armrest。　He　looked　straight　ahead；　his　face　grimmer　than　Nora　had　ever　seen　it。　He　seemed　to　see　nothing；　notice　nothing；　as　the　car　tore　northward；　rocking　slightly；　bounding　over　potholes　and　gaping　cracks　in　the　asphalt。　To　Nora's　right；　Central　Park　raced　by；　the　trees　a　blur。
　〃I　tried　reaching　Smithback　on　his　cell　phone；〃　Nora　said。　〃He　isn't　answering。〃
　Pendergast　did　not　reply。
　〃You　really　believe　Leng's　still　alive？〃
　〃I　know　so。〃
　Nora　was　silent　a　moment。　Then　she　had　to　ask。　〃Do　you　think…Do　you　think　he's　got　Smithback？〃
　Pendergast　did　not　answer　immediately。　〃The　expense　voucher　Smithback　filled　out　stated　he　would　return　the　car　by　five　this　evening。〃
　By　five　this　evening　。　。　。　Nora　felt　herself　consumed　by　agitation　and　panic。　Already；　Smithback　was　over　six　hours　overdue。
　〃If　he's　parked　near　Leng's　house；　we　might　just　be　able　to　find　him。〃　Pendergast　leaned　forward；　sliding　open　the　glass　panel　that　isolated　the　rear　partment。　〃Proctor；　when　we　reach　131st　Street；　we'll　be　looking　for　a　silver　Ford　Taurus；　New　York　license　ELI…7734；　with　rental　car　decals。〃
　He　closed　the　panel；　leaned　back　against　the　seat。　Another　silence　fell　as　the　car　shot　left　onto　Cathedral　Parkway　and　sped　toward　the　river。
　〃We　would　have　known　Leng's　address　in　forty…eight　hours；〃　he　said；　almost　to　himself。　〃We　were　very　close。　A　little　more　care；　a　little　more　method；　was　all　it　would　have　taken。　Now；　we　don't　have　forty…eight　hours。〃
　〃How　much　time　do　we　have？〃
　〃I'm　afraid　we　don't　have　any；〃　Pendergast　murmured。
　
　TWO
　　
　CUSTER　WATCHED　BRISBANE　unlock　his　office　door；　open　it；　then　step　irritably　aside　to　allow　them　to　enter。　Custer　stepped　through　the　doorway；　the　flush　of　returning　confidence　adding　gravity　to　his　stride。　There　was　no　need　to　hurry；　not　anymore。　He　turned；　looked　around：　very　clean　and　modern；　lots　of　chrome　and　glass。　Two　large　windows　looked　over　Central　Park　and；　beyond；　at　the　twinkling　wall　of　lights　that　made　up　Fifth　Avenue。　His　eyes　fell　to　the　desk　that　dominated　the　center　of　the　room。　Antique　inkwell；　silver　clock；　expensive　knickknacks。　And　a　glass　box　full　of　gemstones。　Cushy；　cushy。
　〃Nice　office；〃　he　said。
　Shrugging　the　pliment　aside；　Brisbane　draped　his　tuxedo　jacket　over　his　chair；　then　sat　down　behind　the　desk。　〃I　don't　have　a　lot　of　time；〃　he　said　truculently。　〃It's　eleven　o'clock。　I　expect　you　to　say　what　you　have　to　say；　then　have　your　men　vacate　the　premises　until　we　can　determine　a　mutually　agreeable　course　of　action。〃
　〃Of　course；　of　course。〃　Custer　moved　about　the　office；　hefting　a　paperweight　here；　admiring　a　picture　there。　He　could　see　Brisbane　growing　increasingly　irritated。　Good。　Let　the　man　stew。　Eventually；　he'd　say　something。
　〃Shall　we　get　on　with　it；　Captain？〃　Brisbane　pointedly　gestured　for　Custer　to　take　a　seat。
　Just　as　pointedly；　Custer　continued　circling　the　large　office。　Except　for　the　knickknacks　and　the　case　of　gems　on　the　desk　and　the　paintings　on　the　walls；　the　office　looked　bare；　save　for　one　wall　that　contained　shelving　and　a　closet。
　〃Mr。　Brisbane；　I　understand　you're　the　Museum's　general　counsel？〃
　〃That's　right。〃
　〃An　important　position。〃
　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　it　is。〃
　Custer　moved　toward　the　shelves；　examined　a　mother…of…pearl　fountain　pen　displayed　on　one　of　them。　〃I　understand　your　feelings　of　invasion　here；　Mr。　Brisbane。〃
　〃That's　reassuring。〃
　〃To　a　certain　extent；　you　feel　it's　your　place。　You　feel　protective　of　the　Museum。〃
　〃I　do。〃
　Custer　nodded；　his　gaze　moving　along　the　shelf　to　an　antique　Chinese　snuffbox　set　with　stones。　He　picked　it　up。　〃Naturally；　you　don't　like　a　bunch　of　policemen　barging　in　here。〃
　〃Frankly；　I　don't。　I've　told　you　as　much　several　times　already。　That's　a　very　valuable　snuffbox；　Captain。〃
　Custer　returned　it；　picked　up　something　else。　〃I　imagine　this　whole　thing's　been　rather　hard　on　you。　First；　there　was　the　discovery　of　the　skeletons　left　by　that　nineteenth…century　serial　killer。　Then　there　was　that　letter　discovered　in　the　Museum's　collections。　Very　unpleasant。〃
　〃The　adverse　publicity　could　have　easily　harmed　the　Museum。〃
　〃Then　there　was　that　curator…？〃
　〃Nora　Kelly。〃
　Custer　noted　a　new　tone　creeping　into　Brisbane's　voice：　dislike；　disapproval；　perhaps　a　sense　of　injury。
　〃The　same　one　who　found　the　skeletons…and　the　hidden　letter；　correct？　You　didn't　like　her　working　on　this　case。　Worried　about　adverse　publicity；　I　suppose。〃
　〃I　thought　she　should　be　doing　her　research。　That's　what　she　was　being　paid　to　do。〃
　〃You　didn't　want　her　helping　the　police？〃
　〃Naturally；　I　wanted　her　to　do　what　she　could　to　help　the　police。　I　just　didn't　want　her　neglecting　her　museum　duties。〃
　Custer　nodded　sagely。　〃Of　course。　And　then　she　was　chased　in　the　Archives；　almost　killed。　By　the　Surgeon。〃　He　moved　to　a　nearby　bookshelf。　The　only　books　it　contained　were　half　a　dozen　fat　legal　tomes。　Even　their　bindings　managed　to　look　stultifyingly　dull。　He　tapped　his　finger　on　a　spine。　〃You're　a　lawyer？〃
　〃General　counsel　usually　means　lawyer。〃
　This　bounced　off　Custer　without　leaving　a　dent。　〃I　see。　Been　here　how　long？〃
　〃A　little　over　two　years。〃
　〃Like　it？〃
　〃It's　a　very　interesting　place　to　work。　Now　look；　I　thought　we　were　going　to　talk　about　getting　your　men　out　of　here。〃
　〃Soon。〃　Custer　turned。　〃Visit　the　Archives　much？〃
　〃Not　so　much。　More；　lately；　of　course；　with　all　the　activity。〃
　〃I　see。　Interesting　place；　the　Archives。〃　He　turned　briefly　to　see　the　effect　of　this　observation　on　Brisbane。　The　eyes。　Watch　the　eyes。
　〃I　suppose　some　find　it　so。〃
　〃But　not　you。〃
　〃Boxes　of　paper　and　moldy　specimens　don't　interest　me。〃
　〃And　yet　you　visited　there〃…Custer