rr.eastofealing-第15章

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g　to　their　respective　abodes。　But　our　friend　cannot　sleep；　he　paces　the　floor；　he　is　assailed　with　doubts。　Will　the　money　change　his　panion；　will　it　destroy　their　long　and　enduring　friendship？　Will　he　turn　his　back　upon　him？　At　last　he　can　stand　it　no　longer；　his　mind　is　made　up。　He　will　set　out　at　once　to　his　friend's　house　and　knock　him　up。　But　this　is　not　to　be。　He　tries　to　open　his　door　but　it　will　not　move。　After　many　vain　attempts　to　secure　his　freedom　he　tries　the　window；　this　proves　similarly　unrewarding；　the　glass　cannot　even　be　broken。'
　Professor　Slobe　looked　quizzically　towards
　Omally　who　was　catching　flies　with　his　mouth。　'Is　this　true？'　he　asked。
　'In　most　respects；　it　fair　put　the　fear　of　the　Almighty　into　me　I　can　tell　you。'
　'We　are　indeed　dealing　with　mighty　forces　here；'　said　Sherlock　Holmes；　springing　to　his　feet。　'And　now　I　think　that　should　we　wish　to　entertain　any　hope　of　saving　your　friend　we　had　best　move　with　some　expediency。　Let　us　pray　that　the　trail　is　not　yet　cold。'　Without　uttering　another　word　he　whisked　on　his　tweedy　jacket　and　plunged　out　through　the　French　windows；　followed　by　Professor　Slobe。　Omally　shook　his　head　in　total　disbelief　at　it　all；　tossed　back　his　drink；　and　followed　in　hot　pursuit。
　Holmes　strode　ahead　up　the　sweeping　tree…lined　drive　of　the　Butts　Estate　and　crossed　the　road　towards　the　Memorial　Library。　Before　Pooley's　bench　he　halted　and　threw　himself　to　his　hands　and　knees。　'Aha；'　he　said；　taking　up　the　spent　butt　of　an　expensive　cigarette。　'He's　been　here　and　he　walked　towards　the　kerb。'　Omally　and　the　Professor　looked　at　one　another。　Omally　shrugged。　Holmes　scrutinized　the　roadway。　'He　entered　a　roadster　here　and　was　driven　off　at　some　speed　in　that　direction。'
　'Can　you　make　out　the　licence　plate　number？'　Omally　said　cynically。
　Holmes　looked　him　up　and　down　coldly。　'I　can　tell　you　that　he　was　helped　into　the　car　by　a　gentleman　of　foreign　extraction；　who　parts　his　hair　on　the　left　side　and　has　his　shoes　hand…made；　size　seven　and　a　half。'
　Omally's　eyes　widened。　'Antoine；　Bob　the　bookie's　chauffeur。'
　'Such　was　my　conclusion。　Now；　unless　you　wish　to　waste　more　valuable　time　in　fruitless　badinage；　I　would　suggest　that　we　make　haste。　Time　is　of　the　essence。'
　'Lead　on；'　said　John　Omally。
　It　is　a　goodly　jog　from　the　Memorial　Library　to　the　old　quarry；　but　Holmes　led　the　way　without　faltering　once　upon　his　course。　Here　and　there　along　the　route　he　dropped　once　more　to　his　knees　and　examined　the　road　surface。　Each　time　Omally　felt　certain　that　he　had　lost　his　way；　but　each　time　the　detective　rose　again　and　pointed　the　way　ahead。　At　length　the　three　men　turned　into　the　old　quarry　road。　Ahead　in　the　distance　lay　the　crumpled　wreckage　which　had　been　Jim　Pooley。　With　a　small　cry　Omally　bounded　forward　and　came　to　a　standstill　over　the　disaster　area。　'Oh；　no；'　said　he；　sinking　to　his　knees。　'Oh　no；　it　wasn't　worth　this。'
　Sherlock　Holmes　and　the　Professor　slowly　approached；　the　old　man　supporting　himself　upon　his　stick　and　wheezing　terribly。　'Is　he。。。　？'　the　words　stuck　in　the　Professor's　throat。
　Omally　buried　his　face　in　his　hands。　'My　true　friend；'　he　mumbled；　his　voice　choked　by　emotion。　He　slumped　back　on　his　knees　and　stared　up　at　the　sky。　Tears　had　formed　in　his　deep…blue　eyes　and　fell　over　his　unshaven　cheeks。　'Why？'　he　shouted　up　at　the　firmament。　'Tell　me　why？'
　Holmes　came　forward　and；　stooping；　turned　Pooley's　right　palm　upwards。　The　eighteen　lines　glowed　darkly　in　the　otherwise　brilliant　sunlight。　'There　is　nothing　you　can　do　for　him　now；'　he　said。
　'No！'　Omally　elbowed　the　detective's　hand　away。　'Leave　him　alone；　you　are　part　of　this。　What　the　hell　is　going　on　here　anyway？　Why　did　it　happen？'
　'e；　John；'　said　the　Professor；　laying　a　slim　hand　upon　the　Irishman's　shoulder。　'e　away　now；　there　is　nothing　that　can　be　done。'
　Omally　looked　up　bitterly　at　the　old　man。　'You　knew　about　this；　didn't　you？'　he　said。　'You　knew　something　bad　was　going　on；　you　should　have　stopped　it。　You　and　your　numbers　and　your　magic。'
　'e；　John；　e　please。'
　Omally　rose　slowly　to　his　feet　and　stared　down　at　Pooley's　mortal　remains。　'I　will　kill　the　man　who　did　this；　Jim；'　he　said　slowly　and　painfully。
　Professor　Slobe　pressed　his　hand　once　more　to　John's　shoulder；　and　led　the　stumbling　man　away。
　'All　well　and　bloody　good；'　came　a　voice　from　the　grave。　'But　who　is　going　to　turn　my　head　around　for　me？'
　Omally　spun　about。　'Jim；　you　old　bastard！'
　'Who　else　would　it　bloody　be？　My　head；　John；　if　you　please？　It　is　most　unfortable。'
　The　lads　at　the　Cottage　Hospital　were　nothing　if　not　thorough。　Spending　their　days　as　they　did；　playing　dominoes　and　hunt　the　hypodermic；　they　were　more　than　willing　to　face　up　to　the　challenge　of　the　bloody　spectacle　Professor　Slobe　presented　them　with。　Having　run　a　light…pen　quickly　over　Pooley's　right　hand　they　pronounced　him　private　patient　and　went　about　their　tasks　with　a　will。　Had　not　the　Professor　been　a　member　of　the　Board　of　Governors；　there　seemed　little　doubt　that　they　would　have　been　a　great　deal　more　thorough　than　they　were。　Most　likely　to　the　extremes　of　an　exploratory　operation　or　two；　with　the　removal　of　Pooley's　tonsils　as　an　encore。　As　it　was　they　prodded　and　poked；　applied　iodine；　took　X…rays；　forced　him　to　remove　his　trousers；　turned　his　head　to　the　right；　and　made　him　cough。　As　an　afterthought　they　inoculated　him　against　tetanus；　mumps；　whooping　cough；　and　diphtheria。　As　Doctor　Kildare　came　up　on　the　hospital　tele…video　they　summarily　dismissed　him　with　a　few　kind　words；　a　large　bill；　and　a　prescription　for　Interferon　no　chemist　could　ever　hope　to　fill。
　'See；'　said　Omally；　as　the　four　men　left　the　hospital；　'all　this　fuss　and　not　a　bone　broken。'
　Pooley　felt　doubtfully　at　his　bruised　limbs。　'I　will　not　bore　you　with　my　opinion　of　the　National　Health　Service；'　said　he。　'Nor　even　waste　my　time　bewailing　my　lot；　as　my　pleas　for　sympathy　fall　for　ever　upon　deaf　ears。'
　At　last　the　four　men　entered　the　Professor's　study。　A　large　medicinal　gold　watch　was　handed　at　once　to　the　invalid　who　was　placed　in　a　heavily…cushioned　chair。　'My　thanks；'　said　Jim；　pocketing　it　away　in　his　throat。　The　sun　danced　in　upon　the　carpet　and　the　four　weary　men　lay　slumped　in　various　armchairs；　each　unwilling　to　be　the　first　to　break　the　tranquil　silence。　Pooley's　limbs　creaked　and　plained　to　themselves。　With　a　crackling　hand　he　poured　himself　another　drink。　Holmes　and　the　Professor　exchanged　occasional　guarded　glances；　and　the　old　man　appeared　at　times　obsessed　with　the　silver　pentacle　which　hung　upon　his　watch…chain。　Omally　drummed　his　fingers　soundlessly　upon　the　chair's　arm　and　waited　for　the　storm　to　break；　the　silence　was　rapidly　being　close　and　oppressive。
　Finally　Jim　could　stand　it　no　longer。　'All　right；'　he　said；　climbing　painfully　to　his　feet。　'What　is　going　on？　You　all　know　a　lot　more　of　this　than　me。'
　'I　don't；'　said　Omally；　'but　I　am　beginning　to　have　my　suspicions。'
　'So　what　is　it？'　Pooley　turned　to　the　Professor。　'I　have　just　miraculously　survived　an　attempt　upon　my　life　by　a　lunatic　chauffeur。　Such　should　be　the　cause　for　some　small　rejoicing　surely。　If　I　was　dead；　Omally　here　would　already　be　ordering　the　beer　for　the　wake。'
　Professor　Slobe　stepped　over　to　his　desk　and　took　up　the　day's　copy　of　the　Brentford　Mercury。　He　held　the　front　page　towards　Jim。　'Have　you　read　this？'
　Pooley　perused　the　encircled　article　with　little　interest　and　less　prehension。　'It's　about　puter　lines；'　said　he。　It　did　not　go　unnoticed　by　Holmes　and　the　Professor　that　his　right　hand　slid　unobtrusively　away　into　his　trouser　pocket。
　'It　is　much　more　than　that；'　said　the　old　man。　'It　is　an　essential　link　in　a　dark　chain　of　events　which；　unless　severed；　will　inevitably　engirdle　us　all。　To　our　ultimate　destruction。'
　'e　now；'　said　Jim。　'It　is　just　some　nonsense　about　banks　and　puters；　nothing　more　I　assure　you。'
　Professor　Slobe　shook　his　head；　'Sadly；　it　is　a　great　deal　more　than　that。　It　is　conclusive　proof　that　all　my　worst　fears　are　founded　and　even　now　the　prophecies　of　the　book　of　Revelation　are　ing　to　pass。'
　'You　jest；　surely？'
　Professor　Slobe　shook　his　head　once　more。　'Believe　in　what　I　say；'　said　he。　'We　are　facing　the　greatest　threat　mankind　has　faced　since　the　deluge。　We　are　facing　the　final　conflict。　The　apocalypse。　Even　now　the　curtains　are　closing。'
　'No。'　Jim　shook　his　head　violently　and　not　a　little　painfully。　'All　the　stuff　in　that　old　book　is　most　depressing。　Look　at　me　now。　I　experienced　a　slight　setback；　but　it　was　the　result　of　pure　spite　on　Bob's　part。　Just　because　I　won　and　he's　banged　up　in　hospital　a　bit　scorched。　I　am　battered　but　wealthy。　The　gods　are　smiling　upon　me。'
　'No；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'Money　will　not　buy　you　out　of　this　one；　especially　money　which　was　never　intended　for　your　use。'
　Pooley　scratched　at　his　head；　raising　a　fine　cloud　of　dust。　'You　wouldn't　care　to　enlarge　a　little　on　this　would　you　Professor？'　he　asked。　'You　see　such　news　catches　me　at　a　rather　inopportune　moment。　John　and　I　are　planning　a　bit　of　a　holiday。　Armageddon　might　interfere　with　our　traveller's　cheques。'
　Professor　Slobe　shook　his　head　once　more。　Jim　was　beginning　to　find　the　habit　mildly　annoying。　He　had　millions　of　pounds　knocking　about　in　the　bank　and　was　now　really　looking　forward　to　spending　them　before　they　caught　the　moth。　'Do　you　really　believe　yourself　to　be　one　favoured　of　the　gods？'
　Jim　nodded　noisily。　'At　this　time　definitely　yes。'
　'All　right　then；　I　will　make　this　short；　but　by　no　means　sweet。　We　will　speak　of　these　matters　again。　For　now　let　me　read　you　a　verse　or　two　from　the　Revelation；　possibly　it　will　convince　you；　possibly　not。'　Definitely　not；　thought　Jim　Pooley。　The　Professor　took　himself　over　to　his　desk　where　he　sat　before　the　large　and　outspread　family　Bible。　'I　will　spare　you　the　preliminaries　as　it　is　obvious　that　you　consider　your　time　valuable。　I　will　simply　give　you　the　relevant　part　and　allow　you　to　muse　upon　it。'
　'Thanks；'　said　Jim　doubtfully。
　'Revelation；　Chapter　Thirteen；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'This　speaks　of　the　beast　that　has　risen　from　the　Earth。　We　will　address　our　attention　to　verses　sixteen；　seventeen；　and　eighteen。'　He　spoke　the　final　number　with　a　deadly　intensity。
　'Go　ahead　then。'
　The　Professor　adjusted　his　ivory　pince…nez　and　read　aloud　from　the　open　book：
　'16。　And　he　causeth　all；　both　small　and　great；　rich　and　poor；　free　and　bond　to　receive　a　mark　in　their　right　hand　or　in　their　foreheads。
　17。　And　that　no　man　might　buy　or　sell　save　that　he　had　the　mark　or　the　name　of　the　beast　or　the　number　of　his　name。
　18。　Here　is　wisdom。　Let　he　that　hath　understanding　count　the　number　of　the　beast；　for　it　is　the　number　of　a　man；　and　his　number　is　six　hundred；　three　score　and　six。'
　The　Professor　gently　closed　the　Holy　Book　and　looked　up　towards　Jim　Pooley。　The　millionaire　sat　bolt　upright　in　his　chair。　His　eyes　were　unblinking　and　stared　ever　downward　towards　the　open　palm　of　his　right　hand；　where　the　puter　bar　code　was　indelibly　printed。　Eighteen　puter　lines。　Three　rows　of　six。　The　number　of　a　man；　six　hundred；　three　score　and　six。
　666
　The　number　of　the　Beast。　Things　were　suddenly　beginning　to　sink　in。
　'Oh　dear；'　said　John　Omally；　who　was　not