ABOVE THE CITY, AS THE RETREATING DAY shed its grizzled beard in wet ravelings of mist and drab drizzles1, the hard face of night had not quite yet appeared.
On a west-side street of art galleries, of high-end shops, of restaurants in which elitist attitude was served more efficiently2 than the food, Ethan tucked the Expedition tight up against a red curb3, two wheels in a flooded gutter4, confident that the parking patrol issued tickets far less enthusiastically in foul5 weather than in fair.
The businesses in this neighborhood, seeking a sophisticated and exclusive clientele, stood behind shop fronts without flash, relying on subdued6 signage. Mere7 money shouts; wealth whispers.
The retail8 shops were not yet closed, and most restaurants were an hour away from opening their doors. Early lamplight gilded9 the dripping leaves of curbside trees and transformed the wet sidewalk into a path paved with pirates’ treasure.
Without umbrella, Ethan moved in the shelter of shop awnings10, all of which were tan or forest-green, silver or black, except for that in front of Forever Roses, which was a deep coral-pink.
The florist’s shop might as aptly have been named Only Roses, for [147] beyond the glass doors of the coolers that lined the big front room, no flowers other than roses could be seen, along with supplies of cut ferns and other greenery that were used to soften11 bright bouquets12 and arrangements.
Because of Hannah’s gardening interests, now even five years after she had been laid to rest under mounded roses, Ethan could identify many of the varieties in the coolers.
Here was a rose so dark red that it almost appeared to be black, with petals14 that looked like velvet15, earning its name: Black Magic.
And here, the John F. Kennedy rose: white petals so thick and glossy16 that they resembled sculpted17 wax.
The Charlotte Armstrong: large, fragrant18, deep pink blooms. The Jardins de Bagatelle19, the Rio Samba, the Paul McCartney rose, the Auguste Renoir, the Barbara Bush, the Voodoo, and the Bride’s Dream.
Behind the customer counter stood an exceptional rose who looked as Hannah might have looked had she lived to be sixty. Thick salt-and-pepper hair cut short and shaggy. Large dark eyes brimming with life and delight. Time had not faded this woman’s beauty, but had enriched it with a patina20 of experience.
Reading the name tag on the clerk’s blouse, Ethan said, “Rowena, most of what I see in these coolers are hybrid21 tea varieties. Do you also like climbing roses?”
“Oh, yes, all kinds of roses,” Rowena said, her voice musical and warm. “But we seldom use climbing roses. Varieties with longer stems work better in arrangements.”
He introduced himself and, as was his habit in such situations, explained that he’d once been a homicide detective but recently had gone to work as an assistant to a high-profile celebrity22.
Los Angeles and environs were acrawl with poseurs23 and frauds who claimed association with the rich and famous. Yet even those who had been made cynical24 by this city of deception25 nevertheless believed what Ethan told them, or pretended that they did.
[148] Hannah had said that people trusted him easily because combined in him were the quiet steely strength of Dirty Harry26 Callahan and the earnest innocence27 of Huck Finn. That, he had replied, was a movie he never wanted to see.
Rowena, whether responding to the Harry-Huck of him or to other qualities, seemed to accept Ethan for who and what he claimed to be.
“If I guess your favorite variety of climbing rose,” he said, “will you answer a few questions about a customer you served earlier this afternoon?”
“Is this police or celebrity business?”
“Both.”
“Oh, delicious. I love running a rose shop, but there’s more fragrance28 than excitement in it. Make your guess.”
Because in Rowena he saw Hannah as she might have been at sixty, he spoke29 the name of the climbing rose that his lost wife had loved best: “Saint Joseph’s Coat.”
Rowena seemed genuinely surprised and pleased. “That’s exactly right! You put Sherlock to shame.”
“Now your half of the bargain,” Ethan said, leaning with both arms on the counter. “This afternoon a man came in here and bought a bouquet13 of Broadway roses.”
The dazzling golden-red blooms on Hannah’s grave had been wrapped in a cone30 of stiff cellophane. Instead of Scotch31 tape or staples32, a series of six peel-and-press stickers had been applied33 to seal cellophane to cellophane and thus ensure that the cone kept its shape. Each fancy foil sticker bore the name and address of Forever Roses.
“We had just two dozen,” Rowena said, “and he took them all.”
“You remember him then?”
“Oh, yes. He was ... quite memorable34.”
“Would you describe him for me?”
“Tall, athletic35 but a bit on the thin side, wearing an exquisite36 gray suit.”
[149] Duncan Whistler owned uncounted fine suits, all custom-tailored at great cost.
“He was a handsome man,” Rowena continued, “but terribly pale, as though he hadn’t seen the sun in months.”
Comatose37 for twelve weeks, Dunny had developed a hospital pallor subsequently seasoned by at least an hour of morgue time.
“He had the most magnetic gray eyes,” Rowena said, “with flecks38 of green. Beautiful.”
She had given a perfect description of Dunny’s eyes.
“He said that he wanted the roses for a special woman.”
At her funeral, Dunny had seen the Broadway roses.
Rowena smiled. “He said an old friend would be around before long, asking what kind of roses he’d bought. I gather you’re in competition for the same girl.”
Neither the winter day outside nor the cool air here in the flower shop was responsible for the chill that might have rattled39 Ethan’s teeth if he hadn’t clenched40 them.
He suddenly realized that Rowena’s smile had a curious tilt41, as though tempered by uncertainty42 or uneasiness.
When she recognized how deeply her revelation troubled him, her tentative smile faltered43, vanished.
“He was a strange man,” she said.
“Did he say anything else?”
Rowena broke eye contact and looked toward the windows at the front of the shop, as though expecting to see someone familiar—and unwelcome—at the door.
Ethan gave her an opportunity to consider her words, and at last she spoke: “He said you think he’s dead.”
Images swelled44 to the foreground of memory: the empty gurney and the tangled45 shroud46 in the hospital morgue; the elusive47 phantom48 in the steam-blurred bathroom mirror; the lizard49 on the driveway, struggling to ascend50 in spite of its broken back, confronted by a cruel [150] degree of incline and by sluicing51 water as cold and insistent52 as the flow of time. ...
“He said you think he’s dead,” Rowena repeated, shifting her gaze from the shop door to Ethan once more. “And he said I should tell you that you’re right.”
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drizzles
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| 蒙蒙细雨，毛毛雨( drizzle的名词复数 ) | |
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efficiently
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| adv.高效率地，有能力地 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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sculpted
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| adj.经雕塑的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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bagatelle
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| n.琐事；小曲儿 | |
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patina
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| n.铜器上的绿锈，年久而产生的光泽 | |
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hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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poseurs
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| n.装腔作势的人( poseur的名词复数 ) | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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staples
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| n.（某国的）主要产品( staple的名词复数 )；钉书钉；U 形钉；主要部份v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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comatose
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| adj.昏睡的，昏迷不醒的 | |
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flecks
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| n.斑点，小点( fleck的名词复数 )；癍 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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50
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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51
sluicing
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| v.冲洗( sluice的现在分词 )；（指水）喷涌而出；漂净；给…安装水闸 | |
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52
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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