df.theedge-第34部分

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　　'And　why　was　he　killed？'　the　Mountie　asked。　'What　did　he　know？''
　　I　risked　a　glance；　looked　away；　Filmer's　mouth　was　a　tight　line。　The　answer　to　the　question　had　to　be　in　his　tautly…held　head　at　that　moment　and　it　was　as　inaccessible　to　me　as　Alpha　Centauri。
　　Zak　suggested　that　Ricky　had　identified　one　of　the　hijackers。　Perhaps；　he　said；　the　hijackers　had　e　on　the　train。　Perhaps　they　were　among　the　racegoers；　waiting　another　chance　to　kidnap　their　quarry。
　　Filmer's　neck　muscles　slowly　relaxed；　and　I　realized　that　for　a　moment　he　must　have　suspected　that　the　scene　had　been　specifically　aimed　at　him。　Perhaps　he　spent　a　lot　of　his　time　reacting　in　that　way　to　the　most　innocent　of　remarks。
　　Mavis　and　Walter　Bricknell　demanded　that　the　Mountie　should　keep　their　own　precious　horse　safe。
　　The　Mountie　brushed　them　aside。　He　was　taking　over　the　enquiry　into　the　death　of　Angelica　Standish；　he　said。　Two　deaths　connected　to　the　same　train　could　be　no　coincidence。　What　was　the　connection　between　Angelica　and　Ricky？
　　Zak　said　that　he　was　in　charge　of　the　Angelica　investigation
　　No　longer；　said　the　Mountie。　We　were　now　in　the　province　of　Manitoba；　not　Ontario。　His　territory；　exclusively。
　　Zak's　intended　scene　of　investigation　into　Angelica's　murder　had　been　upstaged　by　the　reality　of　the　Lornmores'　car　and　then　aborted　by　the　long　stop　at　Thunder　Bay。　Passing　the　questioning　to　the　Mountie　bridged　the　void　neatly；　and　the　Mountie　told　us　that　the　reason　that　Steve；　Angelica's　business　manager；　also　her　lover；　had　not　turned　up　at　Toronto　station　was　because　he　too　was　dead；　struck　down　in　his　apartment　by　blows　to　the　head　with　a　mallet。
　　The　audience　received　the　news　of　still　more　carnage　with　round　eyes。　The　said　Steven；　the　Mountie　went　on；　seemed　to　have　been　in　bed　asleep　at　the　time　of　his　murder；　and　the　Ontario　police　were　wanting　to　interview　Angelica　Standish　as　a　suspect
　　'But　she's　dead！'　Mavis　Bricknell　said。
　　After　a　pause；　Donna　said　she　and　Angelica　had　talked　for　maybe　two　hours　between　Toronto　and　Sudbury；　and　Donna　was　sure　Angelica　couldn't　have　murdered　Steve；　she　was　lost　without　him。
　　Maybe；　the　Mountie　said；　but　if　she　was　as　upset　as　all　that；　why　had　she　e　on　the　train　at　all？　Couldn't　it　have　been　to　escape　from　having　to　realize　that　she's　killed　her　lover？
　　Giles…the…murderer　calmly　enquired　whether　any　murder　weapon　had　been　found　after　Angelica　had　been　killed。
　　Also；　Pierre　asked；　wouldn't　Angelica's　murderer　have　been　covered　with　blood？　The　whole　toilet　partment　had　been　splashed。
　　Zak　and　the　Mountie　exchanged　glances。　The　Mountie　said　grudgingly　that　a　blood…covered　rolled…up　sheet　of　plastic　had　been　found　on　the　track　near　the　area　where　Angelica　must　have　been　battered；　and　it　could　have　been　used　as　a　poncho；　and　it　was　being　investigated　for　blood　type　and　fingerprints。
　　Donna　said　couldn't　Steve　and　Angelica　both　have　been　killed　by　a　mallet？　That　would　make　her　innocent；　wouldn't　it？　She　couldn't　believe　that　anyone　as　nice　as　Angelica　could　have　been　mixed　up　in　an　insurance　swindle。
　　What？　What　insurance　swindle？
　　I　glance　involuntarily　at　Daffodil；　but　if　there　had　been　a　flicker　of　her　eyelids；　I　had　missed　it。
　　Donna　in　confusion　said　she　didn't　know　what　insurance　swindle。　Angelica　had　just　mentioned　that　Steve　was　mixed　up　in　an　insurance　swindle；　and　she　was　afraid　that　was　why　he　had　missed　the　train。　Donna　hadn't　liked　to　probe　any　further。
　　Sheridan　Lorrimore；　saying　loudly　that　Angelica　had　been　a　bitch；　made　a　lunging　grab　at　the　pistol　sitting　prominently　in　a　holster　on　the　Mountie's　hip。　The　Mountie；　feeling　the　tug；　turned　fast　and　put　his　hand　down　on　Sheridan's　wrist。　It　was　a　movement　in　a　way　as　dextrous　as　John　Millington　on　a　good　day；　speaking　of　razor…sharp　reactions；　more　like　an　athlete　than　an　actor。
　　'That　gun's　mine；　sir；'　he　said；　lifting　Sheridan's　wrist　six　inches　sideways　and　releasing　it。　'And；　everybody；　it's　not　loaded。'
　　There　was　a　general　laugh　Sheridan；　universally　unpopular　and　having　made　a　boorish　fool　of　himself　yet　again；　looked　predictably　furious。　His　mother；　I　noticed；　had　turned　her　head　away。　Mercer　was　shaking　his。
　　The　Mountie；　unperturbed；　said　he　would　be　proceeding　vigorously　with　the　enquiries　into　both　Angelica's　and　Ricky's　deaths　and　perhaps　he　would　have　news　for　everyone　in　Winnipeg。　He　and　Zak　went　away　together；　and　Donna　drifted　around　from　table　to　table　for　a　while　telling　everyone　that　poor　Angelica　had　really　been　very　sweet；　not　a　murderess；　and　she；　Donna；　was　dreadfully　upset　at　the　suggestion。　She　wrung　out　a　real　tear　or　two。　She　was　undoubtedly　an　effective　actress。
　　'What　do　you　care？'　Sheridan　asked　her　rudely。　'You　only　met　her　yesterday　morning　and　she　was　dead　before　dinner。'
　　Donna　looked　at　him　uncertainly。　He'd　sounded　as　if　he　really　believed　in　Angelica's　death
　　'Er。。。'　she　said；　'some　people　you　know　at　once。'　She　moved　on　gently　and　presently　disappeared　with　disconsolate…looking　shoulders　down　the　corridor　beside　the　kitchen。　Sheridan　muttered　under　his　breath　several　times；　making　the　people　he　was　sitting　with　unfortable。
　　Emil　and　his　crew；　including　me；　immediately　began　setting　the　tables　round　the　passengers　for　dinner；　and　were　soon　serving　warm　goat's　cheese　and　radicchio　salads　followed　by　circles　of　rare　Chateaubriand　with　snow　peas　and　matchstick　carrots　and　finally　rich　orange　sorbets　smothered　in　fluffy　whipped　cream　and　nuts。　Most　of　the　passengers　persevered　to　the　end　and　looked　as　though　it　were　no　torture。
　　My　suggestion　to　Angus；　while　we　were　dishwashing　after　the　battle；　that　maybe　his　food　could　have　been　injected　somehow　with　a　substance　that　even　now　could　be　working　away　to　the　detriment　of　everyone's　health　was　received　by　him　with　frosty　amusement。　Absolutely　impossible；　he　assured　me。　I　had　surely　noticed　that　nearly　all　the　ingredients　had　e　on　to　the　train　fresh。　He　was　cooking　this　food；　not　bringing　it　in　pre…frozen　packs。
　　I　assured　him　truthfully　that　I　had　been　impressed　by　his　skill　and　speed；　and　I　thought　his　results　marvellous。
　　'You　actors；'　he　said　more　indulgently；　'will　think　of　any　impossible　thing　for　a　plot。'
　　Everyone　got　off　the　train　at　Winnipeg；　one　thousand；　four　hundred　and　thirteen　miles　along　the　rails　from　Toronto。
　　Two　large　motor　horse…boxes　were　waiting　for　the　horses；　which　were　unloaded　down　and　loaded　up　ramps。　The　grooms　and　Leslie　Brown　led　the　horses　across　from　train　to　van　and　saw　them　installed　and　then；　carrying　holdalls；　themselves　trouped　on　to　a　bus　which　followed　the　horse…boxes　away　towards　the　racetrack。
　　A　row　of　buses　waited　outside　the　station　to　take　the　racegoers　away　to　a　variety　of　outlying　motels；　and　a　long　new　coach　with　darkly　tinted　windows　was　set　aside　for　the　owners。　A　few　of　the　owners；　like　the　Lorrimores　and　Daffodil　and　Filmer；　had　arranged　their　own　transport　separately　in　the　shape　of　chauffeur…driven　limousines；　their　chauffeurs　ing　over　to　the　train　to　carry　their　bags。
　　The　crew；　after　everyone　else　had　left；　tidied　away；　into　secure　lockers　every　movable　piece　of　equipment　and　goods；　and　then　joined　the　actors　in　the　last　waiting　bus。　The　Mountie；　I　was　interested　to　see；　was　among　us；　tall　and　imposing　even　with　his　scarlet　and　brass　buttons　tucked　away　in　his　bag。
　　George　came　last；　carrying　an　attache　case　of　papers　and　looking　over　his　shoulder　at　the　train　as　if　wondering　if　he'd　forgotten　anything。　He　sat　in　the　seat　across　the　aisle　from　me　and　said　the　cars　would　be　backed　into　a　siding　for　two　days；　the　engine　would　be　removed　and　used　elsewhere；　and　there　would　be　a　security　guard　on　duty。　In　the　siding；　the　carriages　would　be　unheated　and　unlit　and　would　e　to　life　again　only　about　an　hour　before　we　left　on　the　day　after　tomorrow。　We'd　been　able　to　keep　the　same　crew　from　coast　to　coast；　he　said；　only　because　of　the　two　rest　breaks　along　the　way。
　　The　owners　and　some　of　the　actors　were　staying　in　the　Westin　Hotel　which　had；　Nell　had　told　everyone　during　dinner；　a　ballroom　and　fort　and　an　indoor　pool　on　the　roof。　There　was　a　breakfast　room　set　aside　for　the　train　party　where　a　piece　of　the　mystery　would　unravel　each　morning。　Apart　from　that；　everyone　was　on　their　own：　there　were　good　shops；　good　restaurants　and　good　racing。　Transport　had　been　arranged　to　and　from　the　racecourse。　We　would　all　e　back　to　reboard　the　train　after　the　Jockey　Club　Race　Train　Stakes　on　Wednesday；　and　cocktails　and　dinner　would　be　served　as　soon　as　we'd　rolled　out　of　the　station。　The　party；　in　good　humour；　applauded。
　　I　had　decided　not　to　stay　in　the　same　hotel　as　any　of　the　groups　of　owners；　actors；　racegoers　or　crew；　and　asked　Nell　if　she　knew　of　anywhere　else。　A　tall　order；　it　seemed。
　　'We've　put　people　almost　everywhere；'　she　said　doubtfully；　'but　only　a　few　actors　will　be　at　the　Holiday　Inn　。。。　why　don't　you　try　there？　Although　actually。。。　there　is　one　place　we　haven't　booked　anyone　into；　and　that's　the　Sheraton。　But　it's　like　the　Westin…expensive。'
　　'Never　mind；　I'll　find　somewhere；'　I　said；　and　when　the　crew　bus；　after　a　short　drive；　stopped　and　disgorged　its　passengers；　I　took　m