thedestroyer.deathcheck-第14部分

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sh。　Hush。　Hush。
　Okay；　pal；　slow　down。　That　lady　in　the　car　saw　you　laughing　to　yourself。　Slow　it　down。　Move　the　oxygen　around。　Go　back　to　that　room　they　gave　you　during　training。　You　remember　the　room。　The　quiet　room。　Remember　every　detail；　just　how　it　felt。　Quiet　room。　Black　carpeting。　The　couch。
　〃You　can　always　e　back　to　this　room　in　your　mind；〃　Chiun　had　said。　〃This　is　your　safety；　your　retreat。　When　your　mind　or　your　body　needs　rest；　e　back。　You　are　safe　here。　And　loved　here。　No　one　may　enter　whom　you　do　not　invite。　Just　send　vour　mind　back　here。〃
　And　Remo　went　back　to　the　room　and　just　sat　with　Chiun　as　he　had　sat　before。　And　his　mind　cooled　and　some　strength　returned。　The　woman's　face　was　familiar。　Or　was　it？　People　are　recognized　more　by　the　way　they　walk　or　hold　their　head　than　by　features。　Features　are　only　the　final；　the　last；　proof　of　recognition。
　It　was　a　hard　face；　a　very　old　thirty　five；　under　smooth　flaxen　hair。　She　rested　a　bare　arm　on　the　window　opening　of　the　convertible。
　〃Hi　there；　fella。　How　are　you？〃
　〃Do　I　know　you？〃
　〃No；　but　I　know　you。　The　chess　game。　You　couldn't　see　me。　Magnificent　move。〃
　〃Oh；〃　said　Retno。
　〃I'm　Anna　Stohrs。　Dr。　Stohrs'　daughter；　the　chess　instructor。　I'm　also　president　of　the　daughters'　association　of　Brewster　Forum。〃
　〃A　lot　of　daughters　here？〃
　〃Yes；　but　none　like　me。〃
　〃That's　nice；〃　Remo　said。。
　〃I　think　you're　cute。　Let's。〃
　〃Let's　what？〃
　〃You　know。〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Why　not？〃。
　〃I'm　a　virgin。〃。；。
　〃I　don't　believe　you。〃
　〃Okay；　I'm　not　a　virgin；〃　Remo　agreed。
　He　could　see　her　play　her　eyes　down　his　body；　lingering　at　his　groin。
　〃Would　you　do　it　for　pay？〃　she　asked。
　〃No。〃
　〃Why　not？〃
　〃You　think　you're　cute；　don't　you？〃
　She　smiled　an　even…toothed　smile；　an　attractive　but　hard　smile。　She　tilted　her　head　back　in　arrogance。　〃I　know　I'm　cute；　copper。〃
　She　had　switched　tactics；　to　pricking　the　ego；　setting　herself　as　a　tough　prize；　much　like　the　heroine　of　a　lovely　little　novel　Remo　had　once　read。　He　leaned　into　the　car。
　〃Not　caring　about　someone；〃　he　said；　〃is　apologizing。　I　apologize。　I　have　an　appointment。〃
　And　he　left　for　the　circle　of　the　Forum；　to　attempt　to　track　down　Doctor　Hirshbloom；　to　finish　the　set…up　on　her　before　he　took　his　wonderful　day　off。
　Strange　about　her。　All　the　other　scientists　had　sought　him　out　after　the　incident　with　the　cycle　gang。　Father　Boyle　had　been　the　first　interview　and　a　surprisingly　difficult　fix。　Like　most　Jesuits；　he　made　a　career　of　not　seeming　like　a　priest；　while　deeply　acting　out　his　faith。
　He　sat　with　his　big　feet　on　his　very　little　desk。　Remo　had　learned　to　distrust　people　who　sat　with　their　feet　on　the　desk。　It　was　usually　a　e…on　by　ho；　ho；　ho；　one…big…happy…family　fakers　trying　to　get　a　hustler's　edge。
　But　Remo　was　willing　to　forgive　and　forget　in　Boyle's　case；　especially　since　Boyle　had　been　the　only　man　at　the　chess　tournament　the　first　night　to　act　like　a　human　being。
　Now　Remo　found　himself　looking　at　the　gargantuan　soles　of　the　mammoth　shoes　on　the　heroic　feet　of　the　Rev。　Robert　A。　Boyle；　S。　J。　The　Sorbonne。　M。I。T。　Anthropologist。　Classical　Scholar。　Mathematician。　Director　of　Bio…cycle　Analysis　at　Brewster　Forum。
　Remo　ran　his　mind　back　over　the　pornographic　photos　of　Boyle。　Yes；　they　had　shown　his　giant　feet。　Remo　had　seen　them；　memorized　them；　but　they　had　not　registered。　His　perceptions　were　slipping。　It　was　the　three　month　peak。　He　was　falling　apart。
　〃Well？〃　Boyle　had　sat　up　at　the　desk　and　was　looking　at　Remo。
　〃Well　what？〃
　〃I　was　wondering　what　you　thought　of　our　looney　bin。〃
　〃A　great　place　to　visit。　I　wouldn't　want　to　live　here。〃
　〃Not　much　chance　of　that。　Your　presence　here　seems　to　have　a　deleterious　effect　on　the　quietude　of　our　little　rest　home。　First；　making　Ratchett　look　silly　at　the　chess　tournament。　And　then　yesterday　that　show　with　those　hooligans。〃
　〃It's　what　I　get　paid　for；〃　Remo　answered　laconically。　Stop　being　a　nice　guy；　he　thought。　Be　a　bastard。　Then　I　can　figure　out　a　way　to　kill　you；　without　any　regrets。
　〃I'll　have　to　ask　you　a　lot　of　questions；〃　Boyle　said。
　〃Is　there　any　reason　I　should　answer　them？〃
　If　he　had　heard；　Boyle　ignored　him。　〃I'll　need　to　know　where　you　were　born　and　where　you　were　brought　up。　Your　native　stock。　All　the　usual　dates　and　anniversaries。　When　you　went　to　prison。〃
　The　alarm　light　flashed　in　Remo's　mind。　Prison？　What　did　Boyle　know。。。　what　could　he　know。。。　about　Remo's　past？　He　forced　himself　into　calmness。　〃Prison？〃　he　asked　casually。　〃What　made　you　think　I'd　been　in　prison？〃
　〃It's　been　my　experience；〃　Boyle　said；　his　cool　blue　eyes　looking　guilelessly　into　Remo's　hard　face；　〃that　people　who　are　so　quick　tempered　and　so　efficiently　violent　usually　have　seen　the　inside　of　a　cage。　At　least　in　this　country。　In　mine；　we　make　them　prime　ministers。〃
　〃Well；　that's　one　against　you；〃　Remo　answered。　〃Never　been　in　prison。　At　least；　not　in　this　life。〃　Which　was　technically　true。
　Boyle　made　a　note　on　a　yellow　pad　with　a　stub　of　a　pencil　held　in　his　big　pink　bricklayer's　hands。　He　looked　up　again。　〃Shall　we　go　on？〃
　〃Can　you　give　me　a　reason　why　we　should？〃
　
　Boyle　walked　to　a　small　refrigerator　in　a　corner　of　his　office。　Remo　declined　a　drink　and　Boyle　poured　himself　a　water　tumbler　full　of　Irish　whisky。　Alcohol　abstinence　was　not　one　of　his　vows。
　〃Sure。　It'll　keep　me　on　the　job　here　and　of　the　parish　bingo　circuit　for　another　year。〃
　〃Fair　enough。〃
　By　the　time　the　tumbler　of　whisky　was　drained；　Remo　had　learned　that　bio…cycle　analysis　was　the　study　of　rhythms　in　men's　lives。　Boyle　contended　that　there　were　unconscious　rhythms　that　determined　behavior。
　〃If　we　can　isolate　those　individual　rhythms；　we　can　understand　behavior。　Maybe　even　predict　or　control　it。〃
　Boyle　showed　Remo　a　bar　chart。　〃See　this　line？〃　he　asked　pointing　to　a　vertical　bar。　〃Accidents　per　10；000　driving　hours　in　a　Tokyo　cab　pany。〃
　〃Now　this　line；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　a　shorter　bar。　〃Accidents　per　10；000　hours　six　months　later。　Why　the　difference？〃
　〃They　probably　hired　German　hackies。　You　ever　see　Japs　drive？〃
　An　honest　laugh　fractured　Boyle's　tomatoed　face。　〃No。　Same　drivers。　But　the　pany　analyzed　their　body　cycles　and　notified　them　to　be　careful　on　days　that　we　call　'critical。'　Just　that；　and　the　accident　rate's　cut　in　half。　Follow　me？〃
　〃Maybe。　What　kind　of　cycles　are　there？　Do　they　really　control　people？　Do　you　really　believe　in　this　horseshit？〃
　Boyle　went　on　to　explain　that　after　a　half…century　of　study；　scientists　had　isolated　three　cycles：　a　23…day　emotional　cycle；　a　28…day　physical　rhythm　and　a　33…day　intellectual　cycle。　But　now；　with　puters；　science　could　absorb　vast　amounts　of　data　on　enormous　numbers　of　people。　〃If　we　feed　enough　facts　into　the　machinery；　we　may　be　able　to　detect　totally　new　cycles　and　rhythms。　Rhythms　of　love。　Or　hate。〃
　〃Why'd　you　want　to　talk　to　me？〃
　〃Our　basic　study　around　here　is　violence。　You're　the　first　violent　man　we've　had　here　in　years。　A　rarity。　Someone　who　doesn't　intellectualize　everything　to　death。〃
　〃Did　you　study　McCarthy？　The　man　I　replaced？〃
　〃Yes；　I　did。　You　know　he　was　murdered；　don't　you。〃
　Boyle　was　the　second　man　to　tell　Remo　that　McCarthy　had　been　murdered。　He　looked　blankly　at　the　priest。　〃No；　I　didn't　know。　I　thought　he　mitted　suicide。〃
　〃Horseshit；　to　borrow　your　word。　On　the　day　he　was　killed；　McCarthy　was　experiencing　a　very　rare　phenomenon。　His　emotional；　physical　and　intellectual　cycles　all　happened　to　coincide　at　a　peak。　It　should　have　been　the　brightest　day　of　his　life。　Men　don't　mit　suicide　on　days　like　that。〃
　；　〃Who'd　want　to　kill　him？〃　Remo　asked；　watching　Boyle's　face　carefully。　〃As　far　as　I　could　find　out；　he　wasn't　mixed　up　in　anything。　Not　like　blackmail。。。　or　a　porno　ring。〃
　Boyle　showed　no　reaction　at　all。　〃Damned　if　I　know　who　did　him　in。　But　I　hope　you　find　out　who　it　was。　McCarthy　was　a　decent　sort。〃
　Boyle　began　to　ask　Remo　a　string　of　long；　generally　harmless　questions　about　his　life。　Remo　stuck　to　the　fake　biography　of　the　fake　Remo　Pelham。　Whenever　Boyle　got　close　to　Remo's　true　past；　to　CURE；　to　his　mission；　Remo　lied。　It　took　over　an　hour。
　Remo　found　he　was　in　the　fourth　day　of　his　emotio