cb.coldheart canyon-第39部分

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rd…pressed　to　deliver。
　 As　the　cloudless　sky　darkened　towards　night　he　started　to　pick　out　the　Klieg　lights　raking　the　clouds：　not　from　the　Pavilion　itself　（that　lay　to　the　west；　and　was　not　visible　from　the　Canyon）；　but　from　the　many　locations　around　the　city　where　his　peers；　both　prize…winners　and　losers；　would　in　a　few　hours　e　to　revel。　Members　of　the　press　were　already　assembling　at　these　sacred　sites…Morton's；　Spago's；　the　Roosevelt　Hotel…ready　to　turn　their　cameras　on　the　slick　and　the　stylishly　unkempt　alike。　A　smile；　a　witticism；　a　look　of　glee　from　those　burdened　with　victory。　They'd　have　it　all　in　the　morning　editions。
　 Picturing　the　scene　was　too　much　for　him。　He　got　up　and　went　down　to　the　kitchen　to　fix　himself　another　drink。　By　now　he　was　on　the　second　cycle　of　intoxication；　having　drunk　himself　past　the　point　of　nausea　by　mid…afternoon；　he　was　moving　inexorably　towards　a　deep　luxurious　drunkenness；　the　kind　that　flirted　with　oblivion。　He'd　suffer　for　it　for　whatever　part　of　tomorrow　he　saw　of　course；　and　probably　the　day　after　that。　He　was　no　longer　young　enough　or　resilient　enough　to　shrug　off　the　effects　of　a　binge　like　this。　But　right　now　he　didn't　give　a　rat's　ass。　He　simply　wanted　to　be　insulated　from　the　pain　he　was　feeling。
　 As　he　opened　the　immense　fridge　to　get　himself　ice；　he　heard；　or　thought　he　heard；　somebody；　a　woman；　say　his　name。
　 He　stopped　digging　for　the　ice　and　looked　around。　The　kitchen　was　empty。　He　left　the　fridge　open　and　went　back　to　the　door。　The　turret　was　also　deserted；　and　the　dining　room　dark；　the　empty　table　and　chairs　silhouetted　against　the　window。　He　walked　on　through　it　into　the　living　room；　calling　for　Marco。　He　flipped　on　the　light。　The　fifty…lamp　chandelier　blazed；　illuminating　an　empty　room。　There　were　several　boxes　of　his　belongings　sitting　there；　still　unopened。　Moved　from　Bel　Air　but　still　unpacked。　But　that　was　all。
　 He　was　about　to　go　back　to　the　kitchen；　assuming　the　voice　he'd　heard　alcohol…induced；　when　he　heard　his　name　called　a　second　time。　He　looked　back　into　the　dining　room。　Was　he　going　crazy？　〃Marco？〃　he　yelled。
　 There　was　a　long　empty　moment。　Somewhere　in　the　darkness　of　the　Canyon　a　solitary　coyote　was　yelping。　Then　came　the　sound　of　a　door　opening；　and　he　heard　Marco's　familiar　voice：　〃Yes；　boss？〃
　 〃I　heard　somebody　calling。〃
　 〃In　the　house？〃
　 〃Yeah。　I　thought　so。　A　woman's　voice。〃
　 Marco　appeared　on　the　stairs　now；　looking　down　at　his　employer　with　an　expression　of　concern。　〃You　okay？〃
　 〃Yeah。　I　just　got　unnerved；　is　all。〃
　 〃You　want　me　to　go　check　around？〃
　 〃Yeah；　I　guess　so。　I　don't　even　know　where　it　was　ing　from。　But　I　heard　somebody。　I　swear。〃
　 Marco；　who'd　emerged　from　his　bedroom　in　his　boxers；　headed　back　upstairs　to　get　dressed。　Todd　went　back　to　the　kitchen；　feeling　a　little　stupid。　There　wasn't　going　to　be　anybody　here；　inside　the　house　or　out。　Every　stalker；　every　voyeur；　every　obsessive　was　canvassing　the　crowds　around　the　Pavilion；　looking　for　a　way　to　slide　past　the　security　guards；　under　the　velvet　rope；　and　into　the　pany　of　their　idols。　They　weren't　wasting　their　time　stumbling　around　in　the　darkness　hoping　for　a　glance　of　Todd　Pickett；　all　fucked　up。　Nobody　even　knew　he　was　here；　for　Christ's　sake。　Worse；　nobody　cared。
　 As　he　returned　to　the　business　of　making　his　drink；　he　heard　Marco　ing　down　back　the　stairs；　and　was　half　tempted　to　tell　him　to　forget　it。　But　he　decided　against　it。　No　harm　in　letting　one　of　them　feel　useful　tonight。　He　dropped　a　handful　of　ice…cubes　into　his　glass；　and　filled　it　up　with　Scotch。　Took　a　mouthful。　Topped　it　up。　Took　another　mouthful…And　the　voice　came　again。
　 If　there　had　been　some　doubt　in　his　head　as　to　whether　he'd　actually　heard　the　call　or　simply　imagined　it；　there　was　now　none。　Somebody　was　here　in　the　house；　calling　to　him。
　 It　seemed　to　be　ing　from　the　other　side　of　the　hallway。　He　set　his　drink　down　on　the　counter　and　quietly　crossed　the　kitchen。　The　turret　was　deserted。　There　was　nobody　on　the　stairs　either　above　or　below。
　 He　took　the　short　passageway　down　to　what　Marco　had　dubbed　the　Casino；　an　immense　wood…paneled　room；　lit　by　a　number　of　low…slung　lights；　which　indeed　looked　as　though　it　had　been　designed　to　house　a　roulette　wheel　and　half　a　dozen　poker　tables。　Judging　by　the　distance　of　the　voice　it　seemed　the　likeliest　place　for　whoever　had　spoken　to　be　lurking。　As　he　walked　down　the　passageway　it　briefly　occurred　to　him　that　to　make　this　investigation　without　Marco　at　his　side　was　foolishness。　But　the　drink　made　him　bold。　Besides；　it　was　only　a　woman　he'd　heard。　He　could　deal　with　a　woman。
　 The　door　of　the　Casino　stood　open。　He　peered　in。　The　windows　were　undraped；　a　few　soft　panels　of　gray　light　slid　through　them；　illuminating　the　enormity　of　the　place。　He　could　see　no　sign　of　an　intruder。　But　some　instinct　instructed　him　not　to　believe　the　evidence　of　his　eyes。　He　wasn't　alone　here。　The　skin　of　his　palms　pricked。　So；　curiously；　did　the　flesh　beneath　his　bandages；　as　though　it　were　especially　susceptible　in　its　newborn　state。
　 〃Who's　there？〃　he　said；　his　voice　less　confident　than　he'd　intended。
　 At　the　far　end　of　the　room　one　of　the　pools　of　light　fluttered。　Something　passed　through　it；　raising　the　dust。
　 〃Who's　there？〃　he　said　again；　his　hand　straying　to　the　light　switch。
　 He　resisted　the　temptation　to　turn　it　on；　however。　Instead　he　waited；　and　watched。　Whoever　this　trespasser　was　she　was　too　far　from　him　to　do　any　harm。
　 〃You　shouldn't　be　in　here；〃　he　said　gently。　〃You　do　know　that；　don't　you？〃
　 Again；　that　subtle　motion　on　the　other　end　of　the　room。　But　he　still　couldn't　make　out　a　figure；　the　darkness　beyond　the　pool　of　light　was　too　impenetrable。
　 〃Why　don't　you　step　out　where　I　can　see　you？〃　he　said　suggested。
　 This　time　he　got　an　answer。
　 〃I　will。。。〃　she　told　him。　〃In　a　minute。〃
　 〃Who　are　you？〃
　 〃My　name's　Katya。〃
　 〃How　did　you　get　in　here？〃
　 〃Through　the　door；　like　everybody　else；〃　she　said。　Her　tone　was　one　of　gentle　amusement。　It　would　have　annoyed　Todd　if　there　hadn't　also　been　a　certain　sweetness　there。　He　was　curious　to　see　what　she　looked　like。　But　the　more　he　pressed　her；　he　thought；　the　more　she'd　resist。　So　he　kept　the　conversation　off　the　subject；　and　casually　wandered　across　the　immaculately　laid　and　polished　floor　as　he　talked。
　 〃It　must　have　been　hard　to　find　me；〃　he　said。
　 〃Not　at　all；〃　she　said。　〃I　heard　you　were　ing　from　Jerry。〃
　 〃You　know　Jerry？〃
　
　 〃Oh；　yes。　We　go　way　back。　He　used　to　e　up　here　when　he　was　a　child。　You　made　a　good　choice　with　him；　Todd。　He　keeps　secrets。〃
　 〃Really？　I　always　thought　he　was　a　bit　of　a　gossip。〃
　 〃It　depends　if　it's　important　or　not。　He　never　mentioned　me　to　you；　did　he？〃
　 〃No。〃
　 〃You　see。　Oh　yes；　and　he's　dying。　I　suppose　he　didn't　mention　that　either。〃
　 〃No　he　didn't。〃
　 〃Well　he　is。　He　has　cancer。　Inoperable。〃
　 〃He　never　said　a　thing；〃　Todd　said；　thinking　not　only　of　Jerry　but　of　sick；　silent　Dempsey。
　 〃Well　why　would　he？　To　you　of　all　people。　He　idolizes　you。〃
　 Her　familiarity　with　Jerry；　and　her　knowledge　of　his　sickness；　only　added　to　the　puzzle　of　her　presence。
　 〃Did　he　send　you　up　here？〃　Todd　said。
　 〃No；　silly；〃　the　woman　replied。　〃He　sent　you。　I've　been　here　all　the　time。〃
　 〃You　have？　Where？〃
　 〃Oh；　I　mostly　stay　in　the　guest…house。〃
　 She　spoke　so　confidently；　he　almost　believed　her。　But　then　surely　if　she　were　occupying　the　guest…house；　Brahms　would　have　warned　Maxine？　He　knew　how　important　Todd's　security　was。　Why　would　he　let　Maxine　see　the　property；　and　not　mention　the　fact　that　there　was　somebody　else　living　in　the　Canyon？
　 He　was　about　halfway　across　the　room　now；　and　he　could　now　see　his　visitor's　outline　in　the　darkness。　Her　voice　had　not　misled　him。　She　was　a　young　woman；　elegantly　dressed　in　a　long；　silver　gown；　highlighted　with　sinuous　designs　in　gold　thread。　It　shimmered；　as　though　it　possessed　a　subtle　life　of　its　own。
　 〃How　long　have　you　been　staying　here？〃　he　said　to　her。
　 〃A　lot　longer　than　you；〃　she　replied。
　 〃Really？〃
　 〃Well；　of　course。　When　I　first　met　Jerry；　I'd　been　here。。。twenty；　twenty…five　years。〃
　 This　was　an　absurd　invention　of　course。　Even