alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第16部分

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　heard　them。　It　was　as　if　I　were　alone　on　the　ice…cap。
　
　And　then　the　appalling　truth　struck　me…I　was　alone。　I　was　alone；　I　realised　in　a　belated　and　chilling　flash　of　understanding；　because　shooting　me　would　have　been　a　stupid　way　of　disposing　of　both　myself　and　my　dangerous　knowledge…the　discovery　of　a　bullet…riddled　body　on　the　ice…cap　during　the　brief　hours　of　daylight　would　have　provoked　a　hundred　questions　and　suspicions。　Much　more　desirable；　from　the　killer's　point　of　view；　would　be　my　dead　body　without　a　trace　of　violence。　Even　the　most　experienced　man　can　get　lost　in　a　snow…storm　on　the　ice…cap。
　
　And　I　was　lost。　I　knew　I　was　lost；　I　was　convinced　of　it　even　before　I　got　the　wind　on　my　left　and　walked　back　to　the　line　of　bamboo　poles。　The　bamboos　were　no　longer　there。　I　made　a　wide　circle；　but　still　found　nothing。　For　at　least　twenty　yards　back　in　the　direction　of　the　plane；　and　probably　all　the　way　towards　the　cabin；　the　poles　had　been　removed；　that　slender　series　of　markers　which　alone　meant　all　the　difference　between　safety　and　being　irrecoverably　lost　on　the　ice…cap；　were　no　longer　there。　I　was　lost；　really　and　truly　lost。
　
　For　once；　that　night；　I　didn't　panic。　It　wasn't　just　that　I　knew　that　panic　would　be　the　end　of　me。　I　was　consumed　by　a　cold　fury　that　I　should　have　been　so　ignominiously　tricked；　so　callously　left　to　die。　But　I　wasn't　going　to　die。　I　couldn't　even　begin　to　guess　what　the　tremendously　high　stakes　must　be　in　the　murderous　game　that　this　incredibly　ruthless；　wickedly…deceptive　gentle…faced　stewardess　was　playing；　but　I　swore　to　myself　that　I　wasn't　going　to　be　one　of　the　pawns　that　were　going　to　be　brushed　off　the　table。　I　stood　still；　and　took　stock。
　
　The　snow　was　increasing　now；　thickening　by　the　minute；　building　up　into　a　blizzard　with　visibility　cut　down　to　a　few　feet：　the　yearly　precipitation　of　the　ice…cap　was　no　more　than　seven　or　eight　inches；　and　it　was　just　my　evil　luck　that　it　should　fall　so　heavily　that　night。　The　wind　was　southerly；　or　had　been；　but　in　that　fickle　Greenland　climate　there　was　no　knowing　what　minute　it　might　back　or　veer。　My　torch　was　failing：　continual　use　plus　the　cold　had　left　it　with　a　pale　yellowish　beam　that　reached　not　much　more　than　a　few　yards：　but　that　was　the　limit　of　visibility；　anyway；　even　downwind。　The　plane；　I　calculated；　was　not　much　more　than　a　hundred　yards　away；　the　cabin　six　hundred。　My　chances　of　stumbling　upon　the　latter；　flush　as　it　almost　was　with　the　surface　of　the　ice…cap；　were　no　better　than　one　in　a　hundred。　But　my　chances　of　finding　the　plane；　or　what　came　to　the　same　thing；　the　great　quarter…mile　trench　that　it　had　gouged　out　in　the　frozen　snow　when　it　had　crash…landed；　were　far　better　than　even：　it　was　impossible　that　it　could　have　already　been　filled　in　with　drift。　I　turned　until　I　had　the　wind　over　my　left　shoulder　and　started　walking。
　
　I　reached　the　deep　furrow　in　the　snow　inside　a　minute…I'd　switched　off　my　torch　to　conserve　the　battery　but　my　stumble　and　heavy　fall　as　I　went　over　the　edge　was　intimation　enough…turned　right　and　reached　the　plane　in　thirty　seconds。　I　suppose　I　might　possibly　have　lasted　out　the　night　inside　the　wrecked　fuselage；　but　such　was　my　singleness　of　purpose　at　the　moment　that　the　thought　never　occurred　to　me。　I　walked　round　the　wing；　picked　up　the　first　of　the　bamboos　in　the　dim　beam　of　my　torch　and　started　to　follow　them。
　
　There　were　only　five　altogether。　After　that；　nothing。　Every　one　of　the　others　had　been　removed。　These　five；　I　knew；　pointed　straight　towards　the　cabin　and　all　I　had　to　do　was　to　keep　shifting　the　last　of　the　five　to　the　front；　lining　it　up　straight　with　the　others　in　the　light　of　my　torch；　and　it　would　be　bound　to　bring　out　to　the　cabin。　Or　so　I　thought；　for　perhaps　ten　seconds。　But　it　was　a　task　that　really　required　two　people　to　achieve　anything　like　accuracy：　what　with　that；　the　feebleness　of　my　rapidly　dying　torch　and　the　hopeless　visibility；　I　couldn't　be　accurate　within　two　or　three　degrees　at　the　least。　That　seemed　a　trifle；　but　when　I　stopped　and　worked　it　out　I　discovered　that；　over　the　distance；　even　one　degree　out　would　have　put　me　almost　forty　feet　off　course。　On　a　night　like　that；　I　could　pass　by　the　cabin　ten　feet　away　and　never　see　it。　There　were　less　laborious　means　of　mitting　suicide。
　
　I　picked　up　the　five　sticks；　returned　to　the　plane　and　walked　along　the　furrowed　trench　till　I　came　to　the　depression　where　the　plane　had　touched　down。　The　250…foot　line　of　the　antenna；　I　knew；　was　roughly　four　hundred　yards　away；　just　a　little　bit　south　of　west…slightly　to　my　left；　that　was；　as　I　stood　with　my　back　to　the　plane。　I　didn't　hesitate。　I　strode　out　into　the　darkness；　counting　my　steps；　concentrating　on　keeping　the　wind　a　little　more　than　on　my　left　cheek　but　not　quite　full　face。　After　four　hundred　long　paces　I　stopped　and　pulled　out　my　torch。
　
　It　was　quite　dead…the　dull　red　glow　from　the　filament　didn't　even　register　on　my　glove　six　inches　away；　and　the　darkness　was　as　absolute　as　it　would　ever　bee　on　the　ice…cap。　I　was　a　blind　man　moving　in　a　blind　world；　and　all　I　had　left　to　me　was　the　sense　of　touch。　For　the　first　time　fear　came　to　me；　and　I　all　but　gave　way　to　an　almost　overpowering　instinct　to　run。　But　there　was　no　place　to　run　to。
　
　I　pulled　the　drawstring　from　my　hood　and　with　numbed　and　clumsy　hands　lashed　together　two　of　the　bamboos　to　give　me　a　stick　seven　feet　in　length。　A　third　bamboo　I　thrust　into　the　snow；　then　lay　down　flat；　the　sole　of　my　boot　touching　it　while　I　described　a　plete　circle；　flailing　out　with　my　long　stick　into　the　darkness。　Nothing。　At　the　full　stretch　of　my　body　and　the　stick　I　stuck　the　last　two　bamboos　into　the　snow；　one　upwind；　the　other　downwind　from　the　central　bamboo；　and　described　horizontal　flailing　circles　round　both　of　these。　Again；　nothing。
　
　I　gathered　up　the　bamboos；　walked　ten　paces　more；　and　repeated　the　performance。　I　had　the　same　luck　again…and　again　and　again。　Five　minutes　and　seventy　paces　after　I　had　stopped　for　the　first　time　I　knew　I　had　pletely　missed　the　antenna　line　and　was　utterly　lost。　The　wind　must　have　backed　or　veered；　and　I　had　wandered　far　off　my　course：　and　then　came　the　chilling　realisation　that　if　that　were　so　I　had　no　idea　now　where　the　plane　lay　and　could　never　regain　it。　Even　had　I　known　the　direction　where　it　lay；　I　doubted　whether　I　could　have　made　my　way　back　anyway；　not　because　I　was　tired　but　because　my　only　means　of　gauging　direction　was　the　wind　in　my　face；　and　my　face　was　so　pletely　numbed　that　I　could　no　longer　feel　anything。　I　could　hear　the　wind；　but　I　couldn't　feel　it。
　
　Ten　more　paces；　I　told　myself；　ten　more　and　then　I　must　turn　back。　Turn　back　where；　a　mocking　voice　seemed　to　ask　me；　but　I　ignored　it　and　stumbled　on　with　leaden…footed　steps；　doggedly　counting。　And　on　the　seventh　step　I　walked　straight　into　one　of　the　big　antenna　poles；　staggered　with　the　shock；　all　but　fell；　recovered；　grabbed　the　pole　and　hugged　it　as　if　I　would　never　let　go。　I　knew　at　that　moment　what　it　must　be　like　to　be　condemned　to　death　and　then　live　again；　it　was　the　most　wonderful　feeling　I　had　ever　experienced。　And　then　the　relief　and　the　exultation　gradually　faded　and　anger　returned　to　take　its　place；　a　cold；　vicious；　all…consuming　anger　of　which　I　would　never　have　believed　myself　capable。
　
　With　my　stick　stretched　up　and　running　along　the　rimed　antenna　cable　to　guide　me；　I　ran　all　the　way　back　to　the　cabin。　I　was　vaguely　surprised　to　see　shadows　still　moving　in　the　lamp…lit　screen　that　surrounded　the　tractor…it　was　almost　impossible　for　me　to　realise　that　I　had　been　gone　no　more　than　thirty　minutes　…but　I　passed　by；　opened　the　hatch　and　dropped　down　into　the　cabin。
　
　Joss　was　still　in　the　far　corner；　working　on　the　big　radio；　and　the　four　women　were　huddled　close　round　the　stove。　The　stewardess；　I　noticed；　wore　a　parka…one　she　had　borrowed　from　Joss…and　was　rubbing　her　hands　above　the　flame。
　
　〃Cold；　Miss　Ross？〃　I　inquired　solicitously。　At　least；　I　had　meant　it　to　sound　that　way；　but　even　to　myself　my　voice　sounded　hoarse　and　strained。
　
　〃And　why　shouldn't　she　be；　Dr　Mason？〃　Marie　LeGarde　snapped。　〃Dr　Mason'；　I　noted。　〃She's　just　spent　the　last　fifteen　minutes　or　so　with　the　men　on　the　tractor。〃
　
　〃Doing　what？〃
　
　〃I　was　giving　them　coffee。〃　For　the　first　time　the　stewardess　showed　some　spirit。　〃What's　so　wrong　in　that？〃
　
　〃Nothing；〃　I　said　shortly。　Takes　you　a　damned　long　time　to　pour　a　cup　of　coffee；　I　thought　savagely。　〃Most　kind；　I'm　sure。〃　Massaging　my　frozen　face；　I　walked　away　into　the　food　tunnel；　nodding　to　Joss。　He　joined　me　immediately。
　
　〃Somebody　just　tried　to　murder　me　out　there；〃　I　said　without　preamble。
　
　〃Murder　you！〃　Joss　stared　at　me　for　a　long　moment；　then　his　eyes　narrowed。　〃I'll　believe　anything　in　this　lot。〃
　
　〃Meaning？〃
　
　〃I　was　looking　for　some　of　the　radio　spares　a　moment　ago…a　few　of　them　seem　to　be　missing；　but　that's　not　the　point。　The　spares；　as　you　know；　are　next　to　the　explosives。　Someone's　been　tampering　with　them。〃
　
　The　explosives！〃　I　had　a　momentary　vision　of　some　maniac　placing　a　stick　of　gelignite　under　the　tractor。　〃What's　missing？〃
　
　〃Nothing；　that's　what　so　damned　funny。　I　checked；　all　the　explosives　are　there。　But　they're　scattered　everywhere；　all　mixed　up　with　fuses　and　detonators。〃
　
　〃Who's　been　in　here　this　afternoon？〃
　
　He　shrugged。　〃Who　hasn't？〃
　
　It　was　true　enough。　Everyone　had　been　ing　and　going　there　all　afternoon　and　evening；　the　men　for　a　hundred　and　one　pieces　of　equipment　for　the　tractor　body；　the　women　for　food　and　stores。　And；　of　course；　our　primitive　toilet　lay　at　the　farthest　end　of　the　tunnel。
　
　〃What　happened　to　you；　sir？〃　Joss　asked　quietly。
　
　I　told　him；　and　watched　his　face　tighten　till　the　mouth　was　a　thin　white　line　in　the　dark　face。　Joss　knew　what　it　meant　to　be　lost　on　the　ice…cap。
　
　〃The　murderous；　cold…blooded　she…devil；〃　he　said　softly。　〃We'll　have　to　nail　her；　sir；　we'll　have　to；　or　God　only　knows　who's　next　on　her　list。　But…but　won't　we　have　to　have　proof　or　confession　or　something？　We　can't　just…〃
　
　〃I'm　going　to　get　both；〃　I　said。　The　bitter　anger　still　dominated　my　mind　to　the　exclusion　of　all　else。　〃Right　now。〃
　
　I　walked　out　of　the　tunnel　and　across　the　cabin　to　where　the　stewardess　was　sitting。
　
　〃We've　overlooked　something；　Miss　Ross；〃　I　said　abruptly。　〃The　food　in　your　galley　on　the　plane。　It　might　make　all　the　difference　between　life　and　death。　How　much　is　there？〃
　
　〃In　the　galley？　Not　very　much；　I'm　afraid。　Only　odds　and　ends　for　snacks；　if　anyone　was　hungry。　It　was　a　night　flight；　Dr　Mason；　and　they　had　already　had　their　evening　meal。〃
　
　Followed　by　a　very　special　brand　of　coffee；　I　thought　grimly。　〃Doesn't　matter　how　little　it　is；〃　I　said。　〃It　might　be　invaluable。　I'd　like　you　to　e　and　show　me　where　it　is。〃
　
　〃Can't　it　wait？〃　The　protest　came　from　Marie　LeGarde。　〃Can't　you　see　that　the　poor　girl　is　chilled　to　death？〃
　
　〃Can't　you　see　that　I　am　too？〃　I　snapped。　It　was　a　measure　of　the　mood　I　was　in　when　I　could　bring　myself　to　speak　like　that　to　Marie　LeGarde。　〃ing；　Miss　Ross？〃
　
　She　came。　I　was　taking　no　chances　this　time；　so　I　carried　with　me　the　big　searchlig