preston&child.thecabinetofcuriosities-第85部分

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　an　almost　infinite　number　of　unknown　variables。　In　short；　it　is　a　situation　in　which　it　is　very　possible　one　or　both　of　us　may　be　killed。〃
　〃I'm　willing　to　take　that　risk。〃
　〃One　final　ment；　then。　In　my　opinion；　Smithback　is　already　dead；　or　will　be　by　the　time　we　find　the　house；　get　inside；　and　secure　Leng。　This　rescue　operation　is　already；　therefore；　a　probable　failure。〃
　Nora　nodded；　unable　to　reply。
　Without　another　word；　Pendergast　turned　and　began　to　walk　south。
　They　passed　several　old　houses　clearly　broken　into　apartments；　then　a　welfare　hotel；　the　resident　alcoholics　watching　them　apathetically　from　the　steps。　Next　came　a　long　row　of　sordid　tenements。
　And　then；　at　Tiemann　Place；　Pendergast　paused　before　an　abandoned　building。　It　was　a　small　townhouse；　its　windows　boarded　over；　the　buzzer　missing。　He　stared　up　at　it　briefly；　then　went　quickly　around　to　the　side；　peered　over　a　broken　railing；　returned。
　〃What　do　you　think？〃　Nora　whispered。
　〃I　think　we　go　in。〃
　Two　heavy　pieces　of　plywood；　chained　shut；　covered　the　opening　where　the　door　had　been。　Pendergast　grasped　the　lock　on　the　chain。　A　white　hand　slid　into　his　suit　jacket　and　emerged；　holding　a　small　device　with　toothpick…like　metal　attachments　projecting　from　one　end。　It　gleamed　in　the　reflected　light　of　the　street　lamp。
　〃What's　that？〃　Nora　asked。
　〃Electronic　lockpick；〃　Pendergast　replied；　fitting　it　to　the　padlock。　The　latch　sprung　open　in　his　long　white　hands。　He　pulled　the　chain　away　from　the　plywood　and　ducked　inside；　Nora　following。
　A　noisome　stench　welled　out　of　the　darkness。　Pendergast　pulled　out　his　flashlight　and　shined　the　beam　over　a　blizzard　of　decay：　rotting　garbage；　dead　rats；　exposed　lath；　needles　and　crack　vials；　standing　puddles　of　rank　water。　Without　a　word　he　turned　and　exited；　Nora　following。
　They　worked　their　way　down　as　far　as　120th　Street。　Here；　the　neighborhood　improved　and　most　of　the　buildings　were　occupied。
　〃There's　no　point　in　going　farther；〃　Pendergast　said　tersely。　〃We'll　head　north　instead。〃
　They　hurried　back　to　131st　Street…the　point　where　their　search　had　begun…and　continued　north。　This　proved　much　slower　going。　The　neighborhood　deteriorated　until　it　seemed　as　if　most　of　the　buildings　were　abandoned。　Pendergast　dismissed　many　out　of　hand；　but　he　broke　into　one；　then　another；　then　a　third；　while　Nora　watched　the　street。
　At　136th　Street　they　stopped　before　yet　another　ruined　house。　Pendergast　looked　toward　it；　scrutinizing　the　facade；　then　turned　his　eyes　northward；　silent　and　withdrawn。　He　was　pale；　the　activity　had　clearly　taxed　his　weakened　frame。
　It　was　as　if　the　entire　Drive；　once　lined　with　elegant　townhouses；　was　now　one　long；　desolate　ruin。　It　seemed　to　Nora　that　Leng　could　be　in　any　one　of　those　houses。
　Pendergast　dropped　his　eyes　toward　the　ground。　〃It　appears；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice；　〃that　Mr。　Smithback　had　difficulty　finding　parking。〃
　Nora　nodded；　feeling　a　rising　despair。　The　Surgeon　now　had　Smithback　at　least　six　hours；　perhaps　several　more。　She　would　not　follow　that　train　of　thought　to　its　logical　conclusion。
　
　FOUR
　　
　CUSTER　ALLOWED　BRISBANE　to　stew　for　a　minute；　then　two。　And　then　he　smiled…almost　conspiratorially…at　the　lawyer。　〃Mind　if　I　。　。　。　？〃　he　began；　nodding　toward　the　bizarre　chrome…and…glass　chair　before　Brisbane's　desk。
　Brisbane　nodded。　〃Of　course。〃
　Custer　sank　down；　trying　to　maneuver　his　bulk　into　the　most　fortable　position　the　chair　would　allow。　Then　he　smiled　again。　〃Now；　you　were　about　to　say　something？〃　He　hiked　a　pant　leg；　tried　to　throw　it　over　the　other；　but　the　weird　angle　of　the　chair　knocked　it　back　against　the　floor。　Unruffled；　he　cocked　his　head；　raising　an　eyebrow　quizzically　across　the　desk。
　Brisbane's　posure　had　returned。　〃Nothing。　I　just　thought；　with　the　hat　。　。　。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Nothing。〃
　〃In　that　case；　tell　me　about　the　Museum's　costume　party。〃
　〃The　Museum　often　throws　fund…raisers。　Hall　openings；　parties　for　big　donors；　that　sort　of　thing。　Once　in　a　while；　it's　a　costume　ball。　I　always　wear　the　same　thing。　I　dress　like　an　English　banker　on　his　way　to　the　City。　Derby　hat；　pinstriped　pants；　cutaway。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Custer　glanced　at　the　umbrella。　〃And　the　umbrella？〃
　〃Everybody　owns　a　black　umbrella。〃
　A　veil　had　dropped　over　the　man's　emotions。　Lawyer's　training；　no　doubt。
　〃How　long　have　you　owned　the　hat？〃
　〃I　already　told　you。〃
　〃And　where　did　you　buy　it？〃
　〃Let's　see　。　。　。　at　an　old　antique　shop　in　the　Village。　Or　perhaps　TriBeCa。　Lispinard　Street；　I　believe。〃
　〃How　much　did　it　cost？〃
　〃I　don't　remember。　Thirty　or　forty　dollars。〃　For　a　moment；　Brisbane's　posure　slipped　ever　so　slightly。　〃Look；　why　are　you　so　interested　in　that　hat？　A　lot　of　people　own　derby　hats。〃
　Watch　the　eyes。　And　the　eyes　looked　panicked。　The　eyes　looked　guilty。
　〃Really？〃　Custer　replied　in　an　even　voice。　〃A　lot　of　people？　The　only　person　I　know　who　owns　a　derby　hat　in　New　York　City　is　the　killer。〃
　This　was　the　first　mention　of　the　word　〃killer；〃　and　Custer　gave　it　a　slight；　but　noticeable；　emphasis。　Really；　he　was　playing　this　beautifully；　like　a　master　angler　bringing　in　a　huge　trout。　He　wished　this　was　being　captured　on　video。　The　chief　would　want　to　see　it；　perhaps　make　it　available　as　a　training　film　for　aspiring　detectives。　〃Let's　get　back　to　the　umbrella。〃
　〃I　bought　it　。　。　。　I　can't　remember。　I'm　always　buying　and　losing　umbrellas。〃　Brisbane　shrugged　casually；　but　his　shoulders　were　stiff。
　〃And　the　rest　of　your　costume？〃
　〃In　the　closet。　Go　ahead；　take　a　look。〃
　Custer　had　no　doubt　the　rest　of　the　costume　would　match　the　description　of　a　black；　old…fashioned　coat。　He　ignored　the　attempted　distraction。　〃Where　did　you　buy　it？〃
　〃I　think　I　found　the　pants　and　coat　at　that　used　formalwear　shop　near　Bloomingdale's。　I　just　can't　think　of　the　name。〃
　〃No　doubt。〃　Custer　glanced　searchingly　at　Brisbane。　〃Odd　choice　for　a　costume　party；　don't　you　think？　English　banker；　I　mean。〃
　〃I　dislike　looking　ridiculous。　I've　worn　that　costume　half　a　dozen　times　to　Museum　parties；　you　can　check　with　anyone。　I　put　that　costume　to　good　use。〃
　〃Oh；　I　have　no　doubt　you　put　it　to　good　use。　Good　use　indeed。〃　Custer　glanced　over　at　Noyes。　The　man　was　excited；　a　kind　of　hungry；　almost　slavering　look　on　his　face。　He；　at　least；　realized　what　was　ing。
　〃Where　were　you；　Mr。　Brisbane；　on　October　12；　between　eleven　o'clock　in　the　evening　and　four　o'clock　the　following　morning？〃　This　was　the　time　bracket　the　coroner　had　determined　during　which　Puck　had　been　killed。
　Brisbane　seemed　to　think。　〃Let's　see　。　。　。　It's　hard　to　remember。〃　He　laughed　again。
　Custer　laughed；　too。
　〃I　can't　remember　what　I　did　that　night。　Not　precisely。　After　twelve　or　one；　I　would　have　been　in　bed；　of　course。　But　before　then　。　。　。　Yes；　I　remember　now。　I　was　at　home　that　night。　Catching　up　on　my　reading。〃
　〃And　you　live　alone；　Mr。　Brisbane？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃So　you　have　no　one　who　can　vouch　for　you　being　at　home？　A　landlady；　perhaps？　Girlfriend？　Boy　friend？〃
　Brisbane　frowned。　〃No。　No；　nothing　like　that。　So；　if　it's　all　the　same　to　you…〃
　〃One　moment；　Mr。　Brisbane。　And　where　did　you　say　you　live？〃
　〃I　didn't　say。　Ninth　Street；　near　University　Place。〃
　〃Hmmm。　No　more　than　a　dozen　blocks　from　Tompkins　Square　Park。　Where　the　second　murder　took　place。〃
　〃That's　a　very　interesting　coincidence；　no　doubt。〃
　〃It　is。〃　Custer　glanced　out　the　windows；　where　Central　Park　lay　beneath　a　mantle　of　darkness。　〃And　no　doubt　it's　a　coincidence　that　the　first　murder　took　place　right　out　there；　in　the　Ramble。〃
　Brisbane's　frown　deepened。　〃Really；　Detective；　I　think　we've　reached　the　point　where　questions　end　and　speculation　begins。〃　He　pushed　back　his　chair；　prepared　to　stand　up。　〃And　now；　if　you　don't　mind；　I'd　like　to　get　on　with　the　business　of　clearing　your　men　out　of　this　Museum。〃
　Custer　made　a　suppressing　motion　with　one　hand；　glanced　again　at　Noyes。　Get　ready。　〃There's　just　one　other　thing。　The　third　murder。〃　He　slid　a　piece　of　paper　out　of　his　notebook　with　a　nonchalant　motion。　〃Do　you　know　an　Oscar　Gibbs？〃
　〃Yes；　I　believe　so。　Mr。　Puck's　assistant。〃
　〃Exactly。　According　to　the　testimony　of　Mr。　Gibbs；　on　the　afternoon　of　October　12；　you　and　Mr。　Pu