cb.imajica1-第15部分

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　〃I　think　I'll　take　a　look　around；〃　Fly　was　saying；　heading　towards　the　elevator。
　〃Wait　up！　You　can't　do　that。〃
　〃What　am　I　going　to　do？　Set　fire　to　the　place？〃
　〃I　said　no！〃　Freddy　replied　and；　blurred　vision　notwithstanding；　went　after　Fly；　overtaking　him　to　stand　between　his　brother　and　the　elevator。　His　motion　dashed　the　tears　from　his　eyes；　and　as　he　came　to　a　halt　he　saw　the　visitor　plainly。　〃You're　not　Fly！〃　he　said。
　He　backed　away　towards　the　nook　beside　the　elevator；　where　he　kept　his　gun；　but　the　stranger　was　too　quick。　He　reached　for　Freddy　and；　with　what　seemed　no　more　than　a　flick　of　his　wrist；　pitched　him　across　the　foyer。　Freddy　let　out　a　yell；　but　who　was　going　to　e　and　help？　There　was　nobody　to　guard　the　guard。　He　was　a　dead　man。
　Across　the　street；　sheltering　as　best　he　could　from　the　blasts　of　wind　down　Park　Avenue；　Gentle…who'd　returned　to　his　station　barely　a　minute　before…caught　sight　of　the　doorman　scrabbling　on　the　foyer　floor。　He　crossed　the　street；　dodging　the　traffic；　reaching　the　door　in　time　to　see　a　second　figure　stepping　into　the　elevator。　He　slammed　his　fist　on　the　door；　yelling　to　stir　the　doorman　from　his　stupor。
　〃Let　me　in！　For　God's　sake；　let　me　in！〃
　Two　floors　above；　Jude　heard　what　she　took　to　be　a　domestic　argument　and；　not　wanting　somebody　else's　marital　strife　to　sour　her　fine　mood；　was　crossing　to　turn　up　the　soul　song　on　the　turntable　when　somebody　knocked　on　the　door。
　〃Who's　there？〃　she　said。
　The　summons　came　again；　not　acpanied　。by　any　reply。　She　turned　the　volume　down　instead　of　up　and　went　to　the　door；　which　she'd　dutifully　bolted　and　chained。　But　the　wine　in　her　system　made　her　incautious；　she　fumbled　with　the　chain　and　was　in　the　act　of　opening　the　door　when　doubt　entered　her　head。　Too　late。　The　man　on　the　other　side　took　instant　advantage。　The　door　was　slammed　wide；　and　he　came　at　her　with　the　speed　of　the　vehicle　that　should　have　killed　him　two　nights　before。　There　were　only　phantom　traces　of　the　lacerations　that　had　made　his　face　scarlet　and　no　hint　in　his　motion　of　any　bodily　harm。　He　had　healed　miraculously。　Only　the　expression　bore　an　echo　of　that　night。　It　was　as　pained　and　as　lost…even　now；　as　he　came　to　kill　her…as　it　had　been　when　they'd　faced　each　other　in　the　street。　His　hands　reached　for　her；　silencing　her　scream　behind　his　palm。
　〃Please；〃　he　said。
　If　he　was　asking　her　to　die　quietly；　he　was　out　of　luck。
　She　raised　her　glass　to　break　it　against　his　face　but　he　intercepted　her；　snatching　it　from　her　hand。　〃Judith！〃　he　said。
　She　stopped　struggling　at　the　sound　of　her　name；　and　his　hand　dropped　from　her　face。
　〃How　the　fuck　do　you　know　who　I　am？〃　〃I　don't　want　to　hurt　you；〃　he　said。　His　voice　was　downy；　his　breath　orange…scented。　The　perversest　desire　came　into　her　head；　and　she　cast　it　out　instantly。　This　man　had　tried　to　kill　her；　and　this　talk　now　was　just　an　attempt　to　quiet　her　till　he　tried　again。　〃Get　away　from　me。〃　〃I　have　to　tell　you…〃
　He　didn't　step　away；　nor　did　he　finish。　She　glimpsed　a　movement　behind　him；　and　he　saw　her　look；　turning　his　head　in　time　to　meet　a　blow。　He　stumbled　but　didn't　fall；　turning　his　motion　to　an　attack　with　balletic　ease　and　ing　back　at　the　other　man　with　tremendous　force。
　It　wasn't　Freddy；　she　saw。　It　was　Gentle；　of　all　people。　The　assassin's　blow　threw　him　back　against　the　wall；　hitting　it　so　hard　he　brought　books　tumbling　from　the　shelves；　but　before　the　assassin's　fingers　found　his　throat　he　delivered　a　punch　to　the　man's　belly　that　must　have　touched　some　tender　place；　because　the　assault　ceased；　and　the　attacker　let　him　go；　his　eyes　fixing　for　the　first　time　on　Gentle's　face。
　The　expression　of　pain　in　his　face　became　something　else　entirely：　in　some　part　horror；　in　some　part　awe；　but　in　the　greatest　part　some　sentiment　for　which　she　knew　no　word。　Gasping　for　breath；　Gentle　registered　little　or　none　of　this　but　pushed　himself　up　from　the　wall　to　relaunch　his　attack。　The　assassin　was　quick；　however。　He　was　at　the　door　and　out　through　it　before　Gentle　could　iay　hands　on　him。　Gentle　took　a　moment　to　ask　if　Judith　was　all　right…　which　she　was…then　raced　in　pursuit。
　The　snow　had　e　again；　its　veil　dropping　between　Gentle　and　Pie。　The　assassin　was　fast；　despite　the　hurt　done　him；　but　Gentle　was　determined　not　to　let　the　bastard　slip。　He　chased　He　across　Park　Avenue　and　west　on　80th；　his　heels　sliding　on　the　sleet…slickened　ground。　Twice　his　quarry　threw　him　backward　glances；　and　on　the　second　occasion　seemed　to　slow　his　pace；　as　if　he　might　stop　and　attempt　a　truce；　but　then　thought　better　of　it　and　put　on　an　extra　turn　of　speed。　It　carried　him　over　Madison　towards　Central　Park。　If　he　reached　its　sanctuary；　Gentle　knew；　he'd　be　gone。　Throwing　every　last　ounce　of　energy　into　the　pursuit；　Gentle　came　within　snatching　distance。　But　even　as　he　reached　for　the　man　he　lost　his　footing。　He　fell　headlong；　his　arms　flailing；　and　struck　the　street　hard　enough　to　lose　consciousness　for　a　few　seconds。　When　he　opened　his　eyes；　the　taste　of　blood　sharp　in　his　mouth；　he　expected　to　see　the　assassin　disappearing　into　the　shadows　of　the　park；　but　the　bizarre　Mr。　Pie　was　standing　at　the　curb；　looking　back　at　him。　He　continued　to　watch　as　Gentle　got　up；　his　face　betraying　a　mournful　empathy　with　Gentle's　bruising。　Before　the　chase　could　begin　again　he　spoke；　his　voice　as　soft　and　melting　as　the　sleet。
　〃Don't　follow　me；〃　he　said。
　〃You　leave　her　。　。　。　the　fuck　。　。　。　alone；〃　Gentle　gasped；　knowing　even　as　he　spoke　he　had　no　way　of　enforcing　this　edict　in　his　present　state。
　But　the　man's　reply　was　affirmation。　〃I　will；〃　he　said。　〃But　please；　I　beg　you　。　。　。　forget　you　ever　set　eyes　on　me。〃
　As　he　spoke　he　began　to　take　a　backward　step；　and　for　an　instant　Gentle's　dizzied　brain　almost　thought　it　possible　the　man　would　retreat　into　nothingness：　be　proved　spirit　rather　than　substance。
　〃Who　are　you？〃　he　found　himself　asking。
　〃Pie　'oh'　pah；〃　the　man　returned；　his　voice　perfectly　matched　to　the　soft　expellations　of　those　syllables。
　〃But　who？〃
　〃Nobody　and　nothing；〃　came　the　second　reply；　acpanied　by　a　backward　step。
　He　took　another　and　another；　each　pace　putting　further　layers　of　sleet　between　them。　Gentle　began　to　follow；　but　the　fall　had　left　him　aching　in　every　joint；　and　he　knew　the　chase　was　lost　before　he'd　hobbled　three　yards。　He　pushed　himself　on；　however；　reaching　one　side　of　Fifth　Avenue　as　Pie　'oh'　pah　made　the　other。　The　street　between　them　was　empty；　but　the　assassin　spoke　across　it　as　if　across　a　raging　river。
　〃Go　back；〃　he　said。　〃Or　if　you　e；　be　prepared。。；。〃　Absurd　as　it　was；　Gentle　answered　as　if　there　were　white　waters　between　them。　〃Prepared　for　what？〃　he　shouted。
　The　man　shook　his　head；　and　even　across　the　street；　with　the　sleet　between　them；　Gentle　could　see　how　much　despair　and　confusion　there　was　on　his　face。　He　wasn't　certain　why　the　expression　made　his　stomach　churn；　but　chum　it　did。　He　started　to　cross　the　street；　plunging　a　foot　into　the　imaginary　flood。　The　expression　on　the　assassin's　face　changed：　despair　gave　way　to　disbelief；　and　disbelief　to　a　kind　of　terror；　as　though　this　fording　was　unthinkable；　unbearable。　With　Gentle　halfway　across　the　street　the　man's　courage　broke。　The　shaking　of　the　head　became　a　violent　fit　of　denial；　and　he　let　out　a　strange　sob；　throwing　back　his　head　as　he　did　so。　Then　he　retreated；　as　he　had　before；　stepping　away　from　the　object　of　his　terror…Gentle…as　though　expecting　to　forfeit　his　visibility。　If　there　was　such　magic　in　the　world…and　tonight　Gentle　could　believe　it…the　assassin　was　not　an　adept。　But　his　feet　could　do　what　magic　could　not。　As　Gentle　reached　the　river's　other　bank　Pie　'oh'　pah　turned　and　fled；　throwing　himself　over　the　wall　into　the　park　without　seeming　to　care　what　lay　on　the　other　side：　anything　to　be　out　of　Gentle's　sight。
　There　was　no　purpose　in　following　any　further。　The　cold　was　already　making　Gentle's　bruised　bones　ache　fiercely；　and　in　such　a　condition　the　two'blocks　back　to　Jude's　apartment　would　be　a　long　and　painful　trek。　By　the　time　he　made　it　the　sleet　had　soaked　through　every　layer　of　his　clothing。　With　his　teeth　chattering；　his　mouth　bleeding；　and　his　hair　flattened　to　his　skull　he　could　not　have　looked　less　appealing　as　he　presented　himself　at　the　front　door。　Jude　was　waiting　in　the　lobby；　with　the　shame…faced　doorman。　She　came　to　Gentle's　aid　as　soon　as　he　appeared；　the　exchange　between　them　short　and　functional：　Was　he　badly　hurt？　No。　Did　the　man　get　away？　Yes。
　〃e　upstairs；〃　she　said。　〃You　need　some　medical　attention。〃
　
　There　had　been　too　much　drama　in　Jude　and　Gentle's　reunion　already　tonight　for　them　to　add　more　to　it；　so　there　was　no　gushing　forth　of　sentiment　on　either　side。　Jude　attended　to　Gentle　with　her　usual　pragmatism。　He　declined　a　shower　but　bathed　his　face　and　wounded　extremities；　delicately　sluicing　the　grit　from　the　palms　of　his　hands。　Then　he　changed　into　a　selection　of　dry　clothes　she'd　found　in　Mar…lin's　wardrobe；　though　Gentle　was　both　taller　and　leaner　than　the　absent　lender。　As　he　did　so；　Jude　asked　if　he　wanted　to　have　a　doctor　examine　him。　He　thanked　her　but　said　no；　he'd　be　fine。　And　so　he　was；　once　dry　and　clean：　aching；　but　fine。
　〃Did　you　call　the　police？〃　h