Then, during an instant, he had a vision of tiny black devils fluttering through the half-open window, lifting the volume and squeaking1 their way out on quick charred2 wings. But no, no, this was the twentieth century. We are rational, we don't believe in witchcraft3, we are scientific and believe in vitamin pills, Teamwork, and the inalienable right of every language to have a country of its own. Also, the phase of the moon was wrong, and—and—
His mind steadied. He whirled about the desk, to see if the book had somehow slid off. No. He snatched up the phone and called the main office. Had anyone come into his room in the past twenty minutes? We don't know, Dr. Kintyre. No, we did not pick up your book. No, we didn't see anyone.
He put back the instrument and tried to start his thoughts. It was curiously4 hard. He tended to repeat himself. Someone must have come in. Yes, someone must have come in. It would be easy to do, unobserved. Someone must have come in and taken the book.
What the hell had Margery's apartment been burgled for?
That snapped him back to wakefulness. If, as Clayton had suggested yesterday, the burglar was after this volume and hadn't found it, the University was the next logical place to try.
Owens! I told him I'd go out to eat. He could have watched the entrance.
But where was he now?—Wait. Close your eyes, let the mind float free, don't strain too hard—memory bobbed to the surface. Owens had mentioned taking a room in the Bishop5, a hotel conveniently near campus.
Kintyre forced himself into steadiness. If Owens had copped the book, Owens would want to get rid of it. Permanently6. But leather and parchment don't burn easily. Dumping it meant too much chance of its being noticed and recovered. Owens would take it to Los Angeles with him, to destroy at leisure.
He was probably packing at this moment.
Kintyre tucked Bruce's notes into a drawer which he locked: not that they had any value without the physical evidence of the book. He went down the hall fast, a pace he kept up on the outside. His brain querned until he brought it under control. Damn it, Trig was right, there was no reason on God's earth ever to tense any muscle not actually working; and the same held true for the mind. An emotional stew7 would grind him down and get him to the Bishop no sooner.
It was a hard discipline, though. Kintyre had no urge to embrace Zen Buddhism8, or any other faith for that matter; but he would have given much to possess the self-mastery it taught.
He entered the modest red-brick building a few blocks from Sather Gate and asked for Mr. Owens. The clerk checked the key rack and said: "Oh, yes, he came in a few minutes ago."
"I'll go on up, I'm expected," said Kintyre. It was probably not a lie.
When he knocked on the writer's door, he heard himself invited in. Owens had one suitcase open on the bed and was folding a coat into it. Another stood strapped9 on the floor.
He looked up (was his color a shade more rubicund10?) and said, "Hullo, there. I'm glad you came by. I'm leaving tonight."
The voice was level. Perhaps too level. Kintyre closed the door and said: "I thought you were going to come and see me in my office."
"Well, I was," said Owens. "I wanted to get my packing out of the way first." He felt in the suitcase and brought out a pocket flask11. "Care for a drop?"
"No," said Kintyre.
He leaned in the doorway12, watching. But he saw only that Owens stood neatly13 attired14, calm of face, steady of hands, putting up a linen15 suit.
"What brings you here?" asked the writer.
Kintyre countered: "Isn't this a rather sudden decision to leave?"
"Mm, yes. I made the reservation just a few minutes ago. But I haven't much reason to stay here any longer, have I?"
"The Lombardi murder."
Owens shook his head. "Poor chap. But what can I do about it? I assure you, the police didn't ask me to stay in town."
He gave Kintyre a straight look, smiled, and went on: "Why don't you sit down and talk to me, though? I'm more or less stuck till Clayton arrives. He said he'd meet me here."
"Clayton? Why—" Kintyre moved slowly forward, to the armchair Owens waved at. He continued talking, inanely16. "I thought Clayton was in the City. He told me yesterday when we had lunch, he told me he'd be going right over there and didn't expect to come back to this side in the near future."
Kintyre sat down. "What did you want him for?"
"To make him an offer for the Book of Witches."
"What!"
"Take it easy," advised Owens. "You don't own the thing."
The effort not to pounce18 left Kintyre rigid19. He managed finally to say: "I suppose that was what you wanted to see me about, to offer me the same bribe20 Bruce wouldn't take."
"I see you've gotten a somewhat biased21 version." Owens' reply had the blandness22 of conscious mastery. "Yes, it was to be a similar offer. Not that I don't stand behind my contentions23 in the Borgia matter, but you people in this academic cloudland don't realize that the rest of us have a living to make. I have no time at present to dig into minutiae24, and anyhow there are more important things in life. What I asked Lombardi was that he postpone25 the argument. Not perjure26 his precious self, only wait a while. There were enough other things to be written about, anent that book. He didn't have to raise the Borgia issue at all. Maybe in five or ten years—"
"Since you brought up the Borgia issue, as you call it, in the first place," said Kintyre harshly, "we in cloudland have no choice. If there's a notorious error afoot, we've got to correct it. What the hell do you think we get paid for?"
"Publicity," said Owens. "Ornament27. A ritual bow in the direction of yesterday." He took forth28 a silver case, opened it, fetched out a long cigarette and tapped it on his thumbnail.
"You claim to be a realist," he said. "Then why don't you admit the facts? This business of scholarship, verification, the painful asymptotic approach to truth—it's dead. It went out with the society of aristocrats29. This is a proletarian age." He lit the cigarette. His trained lecture-circuit voice rolled out, urbane30, whimsical, with a bare touch of sadness. "He who dances must pay the piper, but he who pays the piper may call the tune31. Since the bills today are all being footed by slobs, what do you expect but the onward32 march of slobbery? One day you'll be fired in the name of government economy. I'll hang on a little longer, because I gauge33 the current level of oafishness and make each succeeding book conform; but sooner or later it will be too much trouble for the public even to read my swill34. Then I'll settle down to live on my investments, and perhaps I can even go back to a little honest scholarship. But not now. First I must survive."
Kintyre said slowly, caught up in spite of himself: "Granted, this is the century of the common mind. But what makes you think it will last, even long enough for you to collect on those investments? This is also the so-called atomic age."
Owens lifted his shoulders and let them fall again, gracefully35. "How do I know I won't be hit by a car tomorrow? One estimates the situation and acts on probabilities."
Kintyre leaned forward. "The probabilities are all for the worst," he said. "Anyone who claims a roomful of people, all with grenades and all hating each other, will keep on acting36 rationally forever, is whistling past the graveyard37 of a dozen earlier civilizations. But I do believe scholarship—rigorous thinking—will be a survival factor. And afterward38 it will be one of the things which will make cultural rebuilding worth while. So I won't quit trying. It isn't for nothing."
He stood up, not as tall as Owens, but broader and smoothly39 moving. "Let me therefore have that manuscript back," he finished.
His enemy kept a half smile; but as he neared, Kintyre saw how cheeks and forehead began to glisten40. The pupils that stared at him widened until they were two wells of dark.
"You know bloody42 damn well what I mean. You took the Book of Witches. Give it back and we'll say no more. Otherwise—"
Kintyre was almost upon the writer. Owens backed away, holding up his cigarette like a futile43 sword. "Look here," he protested. "Look here, now."
There came a rap on the door. Owens went limp with relief. "Come in!" he yelled.
Kintyre realized bitterly how he had been snared44. Owens had thrown out words which he knew the other must stop to answer. It had gained him a few seconds that might well make his victory; Kintyre took him for a physical coward who would not have stood up long even to verbal browbeating45.
Or did I actually intend to wring46 it from him with my hands? The thought was so shocking that Kintyre stepped back.
Gerald Clayton entered, massive in gray, his narrow face wearing only a routine smile. It became more nearly genuine when he saw Kintyre. "Why, hello, there," he said. "What's going on?"
Owens threw his opponent a look. If you don't say anything about this, I won't. Kintyre held himself expressionless, waiting.
"Sit down, Mr. Clayton, do sit down." Owens gestured him to a chair. "I appreciate your coming. I know your time is valuable."
The importer seated himself and took out a cigar. Owens hovered47 around with his pocket flask; the drink was declined. Kintyre leaned against the wall, arms folded, and strove for calm.
"I wasn't very busy," said Clayton. "Glad of a chance to get away, in fact." He nodded at Kintyre and explained: "Something came up which forces me to stay in Berkeley at least till tomorrow. But it involves mostly waiting till I can see the person in question. So what did you want, Jabez?"
Owens shot another glance at Kintyre, gathered himself, and said: "I wondered if you'd be interested in selling the Liber Veneficarum?"
Clayton's mouth bent48 upward, creasing49 his lean cheeks. "Whatever for?" he asked, almost merrily. "I'm a collector."
"Well." Owens sat down on the bed, more at ease now. "You're aware of my argument with Bruce Lombardi. I admit it's possible I was cheated on those letters—" or commissioned the forgeries50 yourself, reflected Kintyre—"and if not, at least the case against me deserves careful refutation. So I would like to have the manuscript, to study at my own leisure."
"And never get around to publishing your findings?" asked Clayton. But he said it in a twitting, inoffensive tone.
"It might take me a few years," said Owens doggedly51. "I've other work to do. However, I'm prepared to make a fair offer for the book. Or, if you don't want to sell, I would like to borrow it for a year or two, under suitable guarantees against loss."
Clayton rubbed his chin. "Seems to me that Bob has some rights in this matter," he declared.
Kintyre stepped a pace forward. His voice snapped out: "The reason I came here is that the manuscript was stolen from me."
"What?" Clayton shouted it, half rose, sat down again and puffed52 hard at his cigar. "What happened?" he said roughly.
Kintyre related the morning. "It fits pretty well," he concluded. "First he plans an attempt to bribe me, as he tried to bribe Bruce. Did you know he offered Bruce five thousand dollars to withhold53 his findings? I mention on the phone I'll be going out to lunch. Since he doesn't really expect I'll bribe either, Owens hangs around. When he sees me leave, he ducks up into my office. If the book isn't there, he can always try the original scheme. But it's right on my desk, and I apologize for my own carelessness. Owens takes it back here. Then, to cover himself, he phones you with this offer to buy—as if he didn't know it was gone!"
Kintyre finished in a growl54: "That suitcase on the floor, already packed, would hold a quarto volume very easily."
Clayton remained impassive.
The writer said with strained calm: "I ask you to witness this, sir. I'm thinking of a suit for slander55."
"That book is worth enough to make it theft grand larceny," said Clayton.
Owens got off the bed and retreated again. Kintyre strode up to him and laid a hand about his wrist. He did not squeeze unduly58 hard, but Owens opened his mouth to scream, face going paper colored. Kintyre dropped the wrist as if it had turned incandescent59. The reaction was unnatural60 enough, to his mind, to jar him physically61.
"That'll do!" rumbled62 Clayton. He stood up. His grizzled ruddy hair made Kintyre think of a lion's mane, a fighting cock's comb; this man had slugged his own way up from nothingness.
"That'll do," he repeated. "If we can't settle it between ourselves like gentlemen, we'd better call the police."
Owens fumbled63 his way to the pocket flask, raised it and gulped64. A little blood returned to his skin. "I thought you were going to hit me," he said in a tiny voice. "I never could—"
"Owens," said Clayton, "did you steal the book?" His tone fell like iron.
"No." The writer put his flask down on the bureau. He remained standing65 above it, leaning on his hands, looking back over a hunched66 shoulder. "No, of course not."
"Mind if we look around to make sure?"
"I don't wish my baggage opened," said Owens. "You haven't the right."
Kintyre, with a measure of control restored to him, said: "We could prefer charges and have the police look."
"Go ahead," said Owens more firmly. "I'll sue you for every nickel you've got. I'd enjoy that."
"I don't like trouble," said Clayton. "If you have the book, return it. We'll say you—borrowed it—nobody else ever has to hear a word."
Owens whirled around. "That's a reflection on my integrity!" he shouted.
"If you really are innocent," said Clayton in a patient way, "I should think you'd want your integrity confirmed."
Owens studied them for a moment.
"All right," he said. "I don't blame you, Mr. Clayton. Your reaction is very understandable. But this character—Mr. Clayton, in case I decide to sue him, and I probably will, remember exactly what happened today. Now go ahead and search."
The importer squatted67 by the suitcase. It didn't take him long to go through the neatly packed clothing. There was no book.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
squeaking
|
|
| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
charred
|
|
| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
witchcraft
|
|
| n.魔法，巫术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
permanently
|
|
| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
stew
|
|
| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
Buddhism
|
|
| n.佛教（教义） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
strapped
|
|
| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
rubicund
|
|
| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
attired
|
|
| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
inanely
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
suite
|
|
| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
pounce
|
|
| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
bribe
|
|
| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
biased
|
|
| a.有偏见的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
blandness
|
|
| n.温柔，爽快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
contentions
|
|
| n.竞争( contention的名词复数 )；争夺；争论；论点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
minutiae
|
|
| n.微小的细节，细枝末节；（常复数）细节，小事( minutia的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
postpone
|
|
| v.延期，推迟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
perjure
|
|
| v.作伪证；使发假誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
aristocrats
|
|
| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
urbane
|
|
| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
gauge
|
|
| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
swill
|
|
| v.冲洗；痛饮；n.泔脚饲料；猪食；（谈话或写作中的）无意义的话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
gracefully
|
|
| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
graveyard
|
|
| n.坟场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
glisten
|
|
| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
shrilly
|
|
| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
futile
|
|
| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
snared
|
|
| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
browbeating
|
|
| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
wring
|
|
| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
creasing
|
|
| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的现在分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 挑檐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
forgeries
|
|
| 伪造( forgery的名词复数 )； 伪造的文件、签名等 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
doggedly
|
|
| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
puffed
|
|
| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
withhold
|
|
| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
growl
|
|
| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
slander
|
|
| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
alibi
|
|
| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
unduly
|
|
| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
incandescent
|
|
| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
physically
|
|
| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
rumbled
|
|
| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
gulped
|
|
| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
hunched
|
|
| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
squatted
|
|
| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |