el.angeleyes-第4部分

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　Soon　they　had　e　upon　a　crypt。　Around　it　were　laid　out　wreaths　woven　of　flowers；　bouquets；　bunches　of　wildflowers。　Under　the　trees　where　the　rain　could　not　penetrate；　the　flames　of　perhaps　a　hundred　candles　flickered。　Into　the　crypt's　face　was　carved；　simply；　EVA　DUARTE。
　〃Here　is　myth；〃　Ariel　said；　pointing　to　the　last　resting　place　of　Eva　Peron。　〃More　has　been　written…quite　erroneously…　about　her　than　anyone　in　this　country。　Was　she　saint　or　demon？''
　〃Perhaps　she　was　neither；〃　Tori　said。　〃Perhaps　she　was　just　a　woman。〃
　〃Well；　don't　let　the　descamisados；　the　shiftless　ones；　hear　you　say　that。''　He　was　speaking　of　the　workers　who　had　slavishly　followed　their　hope；　the　Perons。　〃It　would　not　be　enough　for　them。〃　Ariel　turned　to　look　at　her。　It　had　begun　to　rain；　a　fine　pattering　through　the　trees　that　made　Tori　think　of　airports　and　farewells。　〃You　think　it　is　not　understandable？　Everything　else　has　been　taken　from　them。〃
　〃Even　their　children；〃　Tori　said。　〃Their　future。〃
　〃In　a　very　real　sense；　yes。　Those　that　disappeared　in　the　night　during　Argentina's　reign　of　terror　will　never　be　heard　from　again。　The　disappeared　are　now　only　mute　witnesses　to　this　country's　savage　history。　Oppression　stilled　their　voices　forever。〃　Ariel　looked　out　across　the　sea　of　baroque　headstones　and　crypts。　〃It's　quite　sad。〃
　Stone　angels　surrounded　Tori　and　Ariel；　their　tiny　carved　wings　encrusted　with　the　soot　of　the　city。　Rain　rolled　down　their　cheeks　like　tears　as　they　remembered　the　dead。　The　polished　marble　of　the　necropolis　was　milky；　eerily　luminous　in　the　aqueous　light　from　the　massed　candles。
　〃Does　this　display　mean　that　after　all　this　time　Peronism　still　lives？〃
　〃Only　in　a　sense；〃　Ariel　said。　〃It　is　like　a　dream；　you　see。　The　descamisados　continue　to　hope；　but　now　the　new　leaders　of　Peronism　veer　from　one　political　platform　to　another　instead　of　facing　the　truth：　that　the　true　essence　of　Peronism　is　today　an　anachronism。〃
　Tori　stared　into　the　candles'　flames。　〃Here　the　children　paid　for　the　sins　of　their　fathers。〃　She　turned　to　look　into　his　face。　''Where　is　the　justice　in　that？''
　〃We　are　in　Argentina；〃　Ariel　said。　〃A　place　where　justice　is；　at　best；　misunderstood。〃
　The　rain　drowned　the　candles'　flames；　and　darkness　once　again　enwrapped　the　city　of　the　dead。　Tori　had　the　abrupt　feeling　that　she　and　Ariel　both　knew　what　the　worst　was：　justice　used　as　a　weapon　to　destroy；　and　as　a　shield　behind　which　to　obscure　culpability。
　Ariel　shivered　as　if　the　night　had　suddenly　turned　cold　or　a　spirit　had　touched　the　back　of　his　neck。　〃Perhaps　it　was　a　mistake　to　e　here　tonight；〃　he　said。
　*　'Do　you　mean　Estilo's　party　or　the　Recoleta　cemetery？''　Tori　asked。
　Ariel　smiled；　and　Tori　realized　that　she　liked　his　face。　In　repose　it　was　a　formidable　visage：　stern；　strong…willed；　with　an　almost　defiant　edge…seemingly　far　from　the　bored　businessman　he　claimed　to　be。　But　when　Ariel　laughed；　the　forbidding　cast　disintegrated　into　a　kind　of　boyish　charm　she　found　irresistible。
　She　felt　this　last　odd　and　a　bit　disfiting。　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　she　had　found　anyone　irresistible。
　Ariel　looked　at　her。　〃I　believe　you　have　the　most　extraordinary　eyes　I've　ever　seen；〃　he　said。　〃This　afternoon　they　were　turquoise；　green；　I　thought。　Now　they　are　the　color　of　cobalt。〃
　Tori　laughed。　〃My　father　used　to　call　me　Angel　Eyes。　My　brother　and　I　had　the　same　eyes。〃
　〃Had？〃　Ariel　had　caught　a　tone　as　well　as　a　tense。
　Tori　put　her　head　down　into　darkness。　〃My　brother's　dead。〃
　〃I'm　sorry。〃
　Tori　took　a　deep　breath。　〃Well。　He　was　a　wonderful　man。　And　he　was　blessed。　Before　he　died；　he　flew　like　an　angel。　And　like　an　angel；　he　saw　the　whole　planet　spread　out　before　him。〃　Ariel　looked　at　her　quizzically；　and　she　smiled　sadly。　〃My　brother　was　an　astronaut。〃
　Ariel　snapped　his　fingers。''Nunn。　Wait　a　minute。　Greg　Nunn？　The　American　who　died　in　that　joint　mission　to　Mars　with　the　Russians？　What　was　that；　last　year？〃
　〃Eighteen　months。〃
　〃Greg　Nunn　was　your　brother？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　It　was　just　a　whisper；　but　it　told　the　discerning　listener　volumes。　Ariel　wisely　decided　to　change　the　subject。　〃Estilo　mentioned　that　you　are　retired；〃　he　said。　〃From　what？〃
　What　to　tell　him？　〃Family　business；〃　Tori　said。　Not　exactly　a　lie；　but　not　the　truth；　either。
　He　grunted。　〃Me；　too。　Only　I'm　still　in　it。〃　They　began　to　walk。　''It　used　to　be　fun　when　my　father　ran　it。　I　could　do　pretty　much　what　I　wanted。　I　never　realized　how　boring　the　meat　business　was　until　my　father　died　and　I　was　obliged　to　take　it　over。　Responsibility　seemed　to　drain　all　the　fun　out　of　the　work。''
　They　were　at　the　cemetery's　gate；　and　passing　through　into　me　street。　Tori　had　the　feeling　that　an　oppressive　weight　had　lifted　from　her。　In　there；　it　had　seemed　as　if　the　very　air　she　had　been　breathing　was　humid　with　the　spirits　of　the　dead。　She　took　one　last　look　at　the　sad…faced　stone　angels；　as　though　she　could　hear　their　wings　rustling　in　the　windswept　night。
　〃So　running　the　business　isn't　enough；〃　Tori　said；　giving　him　an　opening　to　perhaps　talk　about　why；　as　Estilo　had　said；　he　was　really　in　Buenos　Aires。
　〃I　don't　believe　I'm　in　the　mood　to　go　back　to　Estilo's；〃　Ariel　said；　as　if　he　hadn't　heard　her　question。　〃It's　raining；　and　the　climate　is　not　conducive　to　a　party。''
　Tori　wondered　whether　by　the　climate　he　meant　the　weather　or　his　state　of　mind。　Either　way；　it　was　all　right；　she　had　no　desire　to　wedge　herself　back　into　Estilo's　ultratrendy　crowd。
　He　took　her　to　Cafe　Tortoni；　a　well…known　jazz　bar　on　the　Avenida　de　Mayo。
　〃Are　you　often　up　late　at　night？〃
　〃Only　when　I'm　traveling；〃　Ariel　said。　He　shrugged。　〃I　don't　know　what　it　is；　but　all　my　business　associates　seem　to　be　aficionados　of　la　vida　nocturna…　night　life。〃
　Tori　had　been　in　love　with　the　night　life；　twice。　As　an　underage　teenager　she　had　used　her　beauty　to　hang　out　in　Los　Angeles'　most　dangerous　night　spots。　Years　later　the　clandestine　late…night　clubs　of　Tokyo；　so　far　away　from　her　native　L。A。；　had　held　another　form　of　danger。　But　by　that　time　she　was　an　entirely　different　person；　wasn't　she？
　They　drank　cane　brandy　while　a　black　saxophonist　made　noises　in　concert　with　a　West　Indian　snare　drummer　and　a　blond；　slick…fingered　bassist。　It　didn't　sound　much　like　music；　but　everyone　seemed　content　to　listen　to　it。
　When　the　set　was　through；　Ariel　looked　at　his　watch。　〃It's　after　midnight。　Are　you　tired？〃
　Tori　shook　her　head。
　〃Good。〃　He　paid　the　check；　then　led　her　out　of　the　restaurant。　They　picked　up　a　taxi　on　the　avenue；　and　Ariel　told　the　driver；　〃La　Manzana　de　las　Luces。〃　The　driver　shrugged；　headed　south　into　the　downtown　district。
　The　Square　of　Enlightenment；　between　Peru　and　Bolivar　at　the　intersection　of　the　Avenida　Julio　Roca；　was　a　treasure　trove　of　historical　landmarks。　But　the　only　one　Tori　could　remember　offhand　was　the　offices　of　La　Prensa；　Argentina's　most　famous　newspaper。
　The　taxi　let　them　off　on　Peru；　and　Ariel　stopped　in　front　of　number　222。　It　had　an　Italian…designed　facade　typical　of　the　mid…1880s；　though　Ariel　informed　her　the　building　itself　was　more　than　a　hundred　years　older　than　that。
　〃This　place　has　belonged　variously　to　two　newspapers　and　the　University　of　Buenos　Aires；〃　Ariel　said。　〃But　by　far　its　most　interesting　tenant　was　the　General　Attorney　of　the　Jesuits；　for　whom；　apparently；　it　was　built。　King　Charles　the　Third　of　Spain　kicked　the　order　out　in　1767。　But　before　then　some　fascinating　goings…on　occurred　here。〃
　〃Like　what？〃
　〃e　on；〃　Ariel　said。　〃I'll　show　you。〃
　He　led　her　around　to　the　side　of　the　structure。　Here　the　narrow　alley　was　dimly　lit。　They　went　down　a　flight　of　ancient　stone　steps　so　worn　they　were　concave　in　their　centers。　Tori　saw　that　even　in　the　gloom　Ariel　had　no　difficulty　negotiating　them。
　A　moment　later　she　heard　what　she　suspected　was　the　grate　of　an　old　key　in　an　even　older　lock。　A　stained　wood…plank　door　creaked　inward　on　iron　hinges。　A　musty　darkness　loomed。
　〃Is　this　okay？〃　Tori　asked。
　〃Do　you　like　to　take　chances？〃
　She　heard　his　voice　as　a　disembodied　whisper；　and　did　not　answer。
　〃Watch　your　step；〃　Ariel　said；　reaching　back　and　taking　her　hand。　He　pulled　her　inside；　closed　the　door　behind　them。