alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第12部分

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　But　less　than　thirty　seconds　later　we　had　forgotten　all　about　it；　even；　I　am　sure；　Mrs　Dansby…Gregg　herself。
　
　I　was　just　handing　Marie　LeGarde　a　cup　when　someone　screamed。　It　wasn't　really　loud；　I　suppose；　but　in　that　confined　space　it　had　a　peculiarly　piercing　and　startling　quality。　Marie　LeGarde's　arm　jerked　violently　and　the　scalding　contents　of　the　coffee…cup　were　emptied　over　my　bare　hand。
　
　I　hardly　noticed　the　pain。　It　was　Margaret　Ross；　the　young　stewardess；　who　had　screamed；　and　she　was　now　kneeling；　half　in　and　half　out　of　her　sleeping…bag；　one　rigidly　spread…fingered　hand　stretched　out　at　arm's　length　before　her；　the　other　clasped　over　her　mouth　as　she　stared　down　at　the　figure　lying　near　her　on　the　floor。　I　pushed　her　to　one　side　and　sank　on　to　my　own　knees。
　
　In　that　bitter　cold　it　was　impossible　to　be　any　way　sure；　but　I　felt　reasonably　certain　that　the　young　pilot　had　been　dead　for　several　hours。　I　knelt　there　for　a　long　time；　just　looking　down　at　him；　and　when　I　finally　rose　to　my　feet　I　did　so　like　an　old　man；　a　defeated　old　man；　and　I　felt　as　cold；　almost；　as　the　dead　man　lying　there。　Everyone　was　wide　awake　now；　everyone　staring　at　me；　the　eyes　of　nearly　all　of　them　reflecting　the　superstitious　horror　which　the　presence　of　sudden　and　unexpected　death　brings　to　those　who　are　unaccustomed　to　it。　It　was　Johnny　Zagero　who　broke　the　silence。
　
　〃He's　dead；　isn't　he；　Dr　Mason？〃　His　low　voice　sounded　a　little　husky。　〃That　head　injury…〃　His　voice　trailed　off。
　
　〃Cerebral　haemorrhage；〃　I　said　quietly；　〃as　far　as　I　can　tell。〃
　
　I　lied　to　him。　There　was　no　shadow　of　doubt　in　my　mind　as　to　the　cause　of　death。　Murder。　The　young　boy　had　been　ruthlessly；　cold…bloodedly　murdered：　lying　there　unconscious；　gravely　injured　and　with　his　hands　strapped　helplessly　to　his　sides；　he　had　been　smothered　as　easily；　as　surely；　as　one　might　smother　a　very　little　child。
　
　We　buried　him　out　on　the　ice…cap；　not　fifty　yards　from　the　place　where　he　had　died。　Bringing　his　stiffened　body　out　of　the　hatch　was　a　grisly　job；　but　we　managed　it　and　laid　him　on　the　snow　while　we　sawed　out　a　shallow　grave　for　him　in　the　light　of　one　of　our　torches。　It　was　impossible　to　dig　it　out：　that　frozen　ringing　surface　turned　shovel　blades　as　would　a　bar　of　iron：　even　at　eighteen　inches；　the　impacted　ntvt　of　snow　and　ice　defied　the　serrated　spearpoints　of　our　special　snow　saws。　But　it　was　deep　enough　and　within　a　few　hours　the　eternal　ice…drift　would　have　smoothed　its　blanket　across　the　grave；　and　we　would　never　be　able　to　find　it　again。　The　Reverend　Joseph　Smallwood　murmured　some　sort　of　burial　service　over　the　grave　but　his　teeth　chattered　so　violently　in　the　cold　and　his　voice　was　so　low　and　indistinct　and　hurried　that　I　could　hardly　catch　a　word　of　it。　I　thought　wryly　that　heavenly　forgiveness　for　this　indecent　haste　was　unlikely　to　be　withheld：　by　all　odds　it　must　have　been　by　far　the　coldest　funeral　service　that　Mr　Smallwood　had　ever　conducted。
　
　Back　in　the　cabin；　breakfast　was　a　sketchy　and　silent　affair。　Even　in　the　steadily　rising　warmth；　the　melancholy　gloom　was　an　almost　palpable　blanket　under　the　dripping　ceiling。　Hardly　anybody　said　anything；　hardly　anybody　ate　anything。　Margaret　Ross　ate　nothing；　and　when　she　finally　set　down　her　coffee…cup；　the　contents　had　scarcely　been　touched。
　
　You're　overdoing　it；　my　dear；　I　thought　viciously；　you're　carrying　the　grief…stricken　act　just　a　little　too　far：　a　little　longer；　and　even　the　others　will　start　wondering…and　they　have　no　suspicions　at　all；　you　damned　inhuman　little　murderess。
　
　For　I　had　no　suspicions　either…only　certainty。　There　was　no　doubt　in　my　mind　at　all　but　that　she　had　smothered　the　young　pilot。　She'　was　only　slightly　built…but　then　it　would　have　required　only　slight　strength。　Lashed　to　the　cot　as　he　had　been；　he　wouldn't　even　have　been　able　to　drum　his　heels　as　he　had　died。　I　could　feel　my　flesh　crawl　at　the　very　thought。
　
　She　had　killed　him；　just　as　she　had　broken　the　radio　and　doped　the　passengers。　He　had　been　killed；　obviously；　to　keep　him　from　talking…about　what；　I　couldn't　even　begin　to　guess；　any　more　than　I　could　guess　the　reason　for　the　destruction　of　the　radio；　except　that　she　clearly　did　not　want　the　news　of　the　crash　broadcast　to　the　outer　world。　But　why　in　the　world　destroy　the　radio　in　the　first　place；　surely　she　must　have　known　how　essential　it　was　for　survival？　But　then；　after　all；　how　was　she　even　to　have　guessed　that：　she　might　well　have　thought　that　we　had　big　fast　tractors　that　could　have　whipped　them　down　to　the　coast　in　a　matter　of　a　couple　of　days。　For　that　matter；　she　might　have　thought　she　was　a　great　deal　nearer　the　coast　than　we　really　were　…it　was　impossible；　surely；　that　she　had　genuinely　imagined　that　we　were　in　Iceland。　Or　was　it？
　
　My　thoughts　were　spinning　now　in　an　unbreakable　circle。　I　knew　I　was　getting　nowhere；　couldn't　possibly　get　anywhere　without　some　fresh　information。　As　it　was；　I　was　only　confusing　myself　the　more　with　the　passing　of　every　moment。　I　gave　it　up　then；　promising　myself　that　from　now　on　I　would　watch　her　every　possible　minute　of　the　day。　I　looked　at　her　again；　covertly；　and　she　was　staring　vacantly　at　one　of　the　glowing　embers　of　the　stove。　Planning　her　next　move；　no　doubt；　planning　it　as　cleverly　as　the　last：　asking　me　last　night　about　the　pilot's　chances　of　survival；　doubtless　to　decide　whether　he　would　have　to　be　killed　or　could　safely　be　left　to　die；　had　been　clever　enough；　but　insisting　on　sleeping　next　to　the　man　she　had　meant　to　kill　had　been　nothing　short　of　brilliant。　On　that　account　alone　no　one　would　ever　suspect　her；　even　if　the　fact　that　it　had　been　murder　became　known。　And　it　wouldn't：　I　intended　keeping　that　to　myself。　Or　did　she　suspect　I　suspected？　Heaven　only　knew。　All　I　knew　was　that　she　must　be　playing　for　tremendous　stakes。　Or　that　she　was　mad。
　
　It　was　just　after　eleven　o'clock。　Joss　and　Jackstraw　were　in　a　corner　by　themselves；　stripping　down　the　smashed　transmitter；　while　the　rest　were　grouped　in　a　large　semi…circle　round　the　stove。　They　looked　wan　and　sickly　and　were　sitting　very　still　indeed。　They　looked　unwell　because　the　first　greyness　of　the　noon　twilight　was　stealing　through　our　rimed　skylights　and　it　did　unflattering　things　to　any　plexion：　and　they　sat　so　still　because　I　had　just　explained　to　them　in　detail　exactly　what　their　situation　was；　and　they　didn't　like　it　one　little　bit。　Neither　did　I。
　
　〃Let's　get　this　quite　straight；　Dr　Mason。〃　Corazzini　leant　forward；　his　lean　brown　face　intent　and　serious。　He　was　worried　all　right；　but　he　wasn't　scared。　Corazzini　didn't　look　as　if　he　would　scare　easily：　I　had　the　idea　that　he　would　be　a　pretty　good　man　to　have　around。　〃The　others　left　here　three　weeks　ago　in　a　big　modern　Sno…Cat；　and　aren't　expected　back　for　another　three　weeks。　You've　overstayed　your　wele　on　the　ice…cap；　you　say；　and　things　have　been　cut　a　trifle　too　fine…you　had　already　started　rationing　yourselves　to　make　your　food　spin　out　until　they　returned。　With　thirteen　of　us　here　we　have　food　for　less　than　five　days。　Therefore　we　may　be　a　fortnight　without　food　before　they　return。〃　He　smiled；　but　there　was　no　humour　in　it。　〃My　arithmetic　is　correct；　Dr　Mason？〃
　
　〃It　is；　unfortunately。〃
　
　〃How　long　would　the　tractor　you　have　take　to　get　to　the　coast？〃
　
　〃There's　no　guarantee　that　it　ever　would。　I　told　you；　it's　falling　to　pieces。　I'll　show　you　later。　Maybe　a　week…given　the　right　conditions。　Any　bad　weather　would　stop　it　in　its　tracks。〃
　
　〃You　doctors　are　all　the　same；〃　Zagero　drawled。　〃Always　spreadin'　sweet　cheerfulness　and　light。　Why　don't　we　wait　for　the　other　machine　to　get　back？〃
　
　〃Indeed？〃　Senator　Brewster　said　heavily。　〃And　how　do　you　propose　to　live　in　the　meanwhile；　Mr　Zagero？〃
　
　〃People　can　live　for　longer　than　fourteen　days　without　food；　Senator；〃　Zagero　said　cheerfully。　〃Think　what　it　would　do　for　that　figure　of　yours。　Tush；　Senator；　you　surprise　me。　Too　gloomy　by　half。〃
　
　〃Not　in　this　case；〃　I　said　flatly。　〃The　Senator　is　right。　Sure　you　can　live　a　long　time　without　food　in　normal　conditions。　You　might　even　do　it　here…if　you　had　proper　day　clothes　and　night　coverings。　You　haven't…and　how　many　of　you　have　stopped　shivering　since　you　came　here？　Cold　burns　up　your　energy　and　depletes　your　reserves　at　a　fantastic　pace。　Do　you　want　me　to　list　all　the　Arctic　and　Antarctic　explorers…and　Himalayan　climbers　…who　have　died　within　forty…eight　hours　of　their　food　running　out？　And　don't　kid　yourselves　about　the　life…giving　warmth　of　this　cabin。　The　floor　temperature　is　about　zero　now…and　that's　as　hot　as　it's　likely　to　get。〃
　
　〃You　said　there　was　a　radio　on　your　old　tractor；〃　Corazzini　said　abruptly。　〃What　range　does　it　have？　Couldn't　you　possibly　reach　your　friends…or　your　Uplavnik　base…with　that？〃
　
　I　nodded　in　Joss's　direction。　〃There's　the　man　to　ask。〃
　
　〃I　heard；〃　Joss　said　without　enthusiasm。　〃Do　you　think　I'd　be　trying　to　salvage　this　wreckage；　Mr　Corazzini；　if　there　was　any　chance？　It's　an　eight…watt　transmitter　with　hand…cranked　generator　and　battery　receiver；　it　came　out　of　the　ark　and　was　never　meant　for　anything　more　than　walkie…talkie　use。〃
　
　〃But　what　is　its　range？〃　Corazzini　persisted。
　
　〃Impossible　to　say。〃　Joss　shrugged。　〃You　know　how　it　is　with　transmission　and　reception。　One　day　you　can　hardly　pick　up　the　BBC　a　hundred　miles　away；　another　you　can　pick　up　a　taxi…cab　at　twice　the　distance；　if　you　have　the　right　receiver。　All　depends　on　conditions。　This　one？　Hundred　miles；　maybe…hundred　fifty　in　perfect　conditions。　In　the　present　conditions；　you'd　be　better　with　a　megaphone。　I'll　have　a　go　with　it　this　afternoon；　perhaps。　Might　as　well　waste　my　time　that　way　as　any　other。〃　Joss　turned　away　and　it　was　obvious　that；　as　far　as　he　was　concerned；　the　subject　was　closed。
　
　〃Perhaps　your　friends　will　move　within　transmission　range？〃　Corazzini　suggested。　〃After　all；　you　said　they're　not　much　more　than　a　couple　of　hundred　miles　away。〃
　
　〃And　I　said　they'll　be　staying　there。　They've　set　up　their　equipment　and　instruments　and　they　won't　move　until　they　have　to。　They're　too　short　of　petrol　for　that。〃
　
　〃They　can　refuel　here；　of　course？〃
　
　〃That's　no　worry。〃　I　jerked　a　thumb　towards　the　tunnel。　〃There's　eight　hundred　gallons　out　there。〃
　
　〃I　see。〃　Corazzini　looked　thoughtful　for　a　moment；　then　went　on。　〃Please　don't　think　I'm　being　annoyingly　persistent。　I　just　want　to　eliminate　possibilities。　I　believe　you　have…or　have　had　…a　radio　schedule　with　your　friends。　Won't　they　worry　if　they　fail　to　hear　from　you？〃
　
　〃Hillcrest…that's　the　scientist　in　charge…never　worries　about　anything。　And　unfortunately；　their　own　radio；　a　big　long…range　job；　is　giving　trouble…they　said　a　couple　of　days　ago　that　the　generator　brushes　were　beginning　to　give　out…and　the　nearest　spares　are　here。　If　they　can't　raise　us；　they'll　probably　blame　themselves。　Anyway；　they　know　we're　safe　as　houses　here。　Why　on　earth　should　they　worry？〃
　
　〃So　what　do　we　do？〃　Solly　Levin　asked　querulously。　〃Starve　to　death　or　start　hikin'？〃
　
　〃Succinctly　and　admirably　put；〃　Senator　Brewster　boomed。　〃In　a　nutshell；　one　might　say。　I　propose　we　set　up　a　small　mittee　to　investigate　the　possibilities…〃