rr.eastofealing-第26章

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a　fearful　voice。
　'Heavens　no。'　Soap　crossed　his　heart。　'Would　I　do　that　to　you？'
　Pooley　sniffed　his　along　its　length。　'Not　spud？'
　'Absolutely　not。　I　know　Omally　stuffs　his　peelings　into　his　pipe；　but　even　he　would　draw　the　line　at　manufacturing　cigars　from　them。'
　'They　don't　roll；'　said　John；　making　the　motions。
　The　two　men　lit　up；　and　collapsed　simultaneously　into　fits　of　violent　coughing。
　'Whatever　it　is；'　wheezed　John；　tears　streaming　from　his　eyes；　'it's　good　stuff。'
　'Perhaps　a　little　sharp。'　Jim's　face　now　matched　the　colour　of　his　cigar。
　'Do　you　give　up？'
　'Indubitably。'
　'Well　I　shan't　tell　you　anyway。'　Soap　slumped　back　into　his　chair；　hands　clasped　behind　his　head。
　The　ruddy　hue　slowly　returned　to　Jim's　face　as　he　got　the　measure　of　his　smoke。　'How　long　do　you　think　we　are　going　to　have　to　fiddle　about　down　here？'　he　asked。
　Soap　shrugged。
　Omally　tapped　a　quarter…inch　of　snow…white　ash　into　a　glass　cache　pot　of　the　Boda　persuasion。　'We　can't　stay　down　here　indefinitely；　Soap；'　he　said。　'Although　your　hospitality　is　greatly　appreciated；　you　must　surely　realize　that　we　must　make　some　attempts　at　salvaging　something　of　our　former　lives。　We　were　quite　fond　of　them。'
　Soap　waved　his　hands　at　the　Irishman。　'All　in　good　time；　John。　The　Prof　will　tip　us　the　wink。　For　now；　have　a　drink　and　a　smoke　and　a　pleasant　chat。'
　'I　fear　we　will　shortly　exhaust　all　topics　of　conversation。'
　'Not　a　bit　of　it；　I　am　a　fascinating　conversationalist。　On　most　matters　I　am　eloquence　personified。　My　range　is　almost　inexhaustible。'
　'And　your　modesty　legend。　I　know。'
　'All　right　then；　what　is　your　opinion　of　evolution？'
　'A　nine…aeon　wonder。'　Omally　awaited　the　applause。
　'I　have　a　somewhat　revolutionary　theory　of　my　own。'
　'I　do　not　wish　to　hear　it。'
　'I　subscribe　to　the　view　that　the　world　was　created　five　minutes　ago；　plete　with　all　records　and　memories。　Although　an　improbable　hypothesis；　I　think　you　will　find　it　logically　irrefutable。'
　'And　how　long　have　you　held　this　belief？'
　'Hard　to　say；　possibly　four　and　a　half　minutes。'
　'Fol…de…rol。'
　'Well；　what　about　politics；　then？　As　an　Irishman；　you　must　have　some　definite　views。'
　'As　an　Irishman；　I　never　trouble　to　give　the　matter　a　moment's　thought。'
　'Religion；　then？'
　'I　subscribe　to　the　view　that　the　world　was　created　five　minutes　ago。　Are　you　looking　for　a　grazed　chin；　Soap？'
　'Only　trying　to　pass　the　time　with　a　little　pleasant　intercourse。'
　'Careful；'　said　Jim。
　'Well；　I　get　few　callers。'
　'Hardly　surprising；　your　address　is　somewhat　obscure　even　for　the　A　to　Z。'
　'Would　you　care　to　see　my　mushroom　beds？'
　'Frankly；　no。'
　'I　spy　with　my　little　eye？'
　'Stick　it　in　your　ear；　Soap。'
　The　three　men　sat　awhile　in　silence。　Jim　picked　a　bit　of　chive　out　of　his　teeth　and　won　five　quid　from　Soap。　But　other　than　that　there　was　frankly　no　excitement　to　be　had　whatsoever；　which　might　in　its　way　have　been　a　good　thing；　for　there　was　a　great　deal　of　it　in　the　offing。　A　sudden　bout　of　urgent　knocking　rattled　Soap　Distant's　front　door。
　'Expecting　guests？'　Omally　asked。　'Ladies；　I　trust。　Current　affairs　have　played　havoc　with　my　social　calendar。'
　Soap's　face　had；　within　the　twinkling　of　an　eye；　transformed　itself　from　an　amiable　countenance　into　the　all…too…familiar　mask　of　cold　fear。　'Are　either　of　you　tooled　up？'　he　asked　inanely。
　'I　have　my　barlow　knife；'　said　Omally；　rapidly　finishing　his　drink。
　'And　me　my　running　shoes；'　said　Jim。　'Where's　the　back　door；　Soap？'
　Mr　Distant　dithered　in　his　armchair。　'No…one　knows　of　this　place；'　he　whispered　hoarsely。　The　pounding　on　the　door　informed　him　that　that　statement　was　patently　incorrect。
　Omally　rose　hurriedly　from　his　seat。　'Lead　us　to　the　priesthole；　Soap；　and　make　it　snappy。'
　'I'm　for　that。'　Jim　leapt　up　and　began　smacking　at　the　walls。　'Where's　the　secret　panel；　Soap？'
　Soap　chewed　upon　his　knuckles。　'It's　the　other　me；'　he　whimpered。　'I　knew　it　had　to　happen；　even　here。'
　'The　odds　are　in　its　favour。　Kindly　show　us　the　way　out。'
　'There's　no　other　exit。'
　'Then　find　us　a　place　to　hide；　someone　must　continue　to　serve　the　cause；　even　if　you　are　indisposed。'
　'Yes；　fair　do's；'　Jim　agreed；　as　the　pounding　rattled　ornaments　and　nerves　alike。　'If　it's　the　other　you；　then　he　may　not　know　John　and　I　are　here。　We　at　least　should　hide　until　the　bloodshed　is　over。'
　'Oh；　thanks　very　much；　pals。'
　'We'd　do　the　same　for　you。'
　'e　again？'
　'Open　up　there。'　A　voice　from　without　brought　the　ludicrous　conversation　to　a　halt。
　'It's　Sherlock　Holmes；'　said　Omally。　'Let　him　in。'
　Soap　hastened　to　unfasten　the　front　door。　'Close　it　without　delay。'　The　detective　pressed　himself　inside。　'They　are　hard　upon　my　heels。'
　'How　did　you　know　where　I　lived？'　Soap　pressed　the　bolts　home。
　'No　matter。　Are　you　three　tooled　up？'
　Omally　shook　his　head　and　fell　back　into　his　seat。　Pooley　did　likewise。　'Would　you　care　for　another　splash　of　carrot；　Jim？'　Omally　waggled　the　bottle　towards　Pooley。
　'Another　would　be　fine。　So　how　goes　the　game　afoot；　Sherlock？'
　'A　bit　iffy　as　it　happens。'　Holmes　drew　out　his　revolver　and　flattened　himself　against　the　front　wall。
　Jim　rattled　his　glass　against　the　bottle's　neck。　'And　you　have　brought　the　lads　down　here　after　us。　Most　enterprising。'
　'I　never　really　believed　in　him；　you　know；'　said　John；　now　refreshing　his　own　glass。
　'I　looked　it　all　up　in　the　library；'　Pooley　replied。
　'The　evidence　is　very　much　against　him。　Purely　fictitious；　I　so　believe。'
　'Wise　up；'　said　Sherlock　Holmes。　'These　mothers　mean　business。'
　The　sounds　of　terrible　ghost　train　screaming　leant　weight　to　his　conviction。　From　beyond；　something　malevolent　was　surging　forward　from　the　darkness。　Pooley　covered　his　ears　and　crossed　his　eyes。　Omally　snatched　up　a　Biba　table…lamp　and　prepared　once　more　to　do　battle。　If　the　awful　screaming　was　not　bad　enough；　the　sounds　which　acpanied　it　were　sufficient　to　put　the　wind　up　even　Saint　Anthony　himself。　Hideous　slurpings　and　suckings；　as　of　some　gigantic　mollusc；　and　thrashing　sounds；　dragging　chains　and　clicking　joints。　All　in　all；　anything　but　a　Christmas　hamper。
　Omally　turned　towards　Holmes；　who　now　crouched　facing　the　door；　Magnum　forty…four　poised　once　more　between　his　outstretched　hands。　'What　in　the　name　of　the　Holies　is　it？'　he　shouted　above　the　growing　din。
　'It　came　at　me　from　a　basement　opening。　I　have　only　seen　its　like　before　amongst　the　work　of　Hieronymous　Bosch。'
　This　remark　meant　little　to　Omally　who　had　always　thought　a　Bosch　to　be　an　expensive　sports　car。　But　that　the　something　which　was　approaching　was　very　very　nasty　and　somewhat　overlarge　seemed　on　the　cards。
　As　the　first　concussion　shook　the　front　wall；　Holmes　fired　point…blank　into　the　door。　A　gale…force　icy　wind　swept　through　the　bullet…hole；　like　a　blast　from　a　ruptured　gas…pipe。　A　fetid　odour　filled　the　room；　the　stench　of　the　very　pit　itself；　of　all　the　world's　carrion　congealed　into　a　single　rotting　mass。　Holmes　staggered　back　into　Omally；　coughing　and　gagging。　The　Irishman　fell　to　his　knees；　covering　his　nose；　and　retching　violently。　Outside；　the　thing　lashed　at　the　door　with　redoubled　fury。　The　iron　hinges　screamed　in　anguish；　echoing　those　of　the　satanic　emissary　of　death。　Beneath　the　throbbing　door；　slim；　barbed　hooks　worked　and　tore。　A　yellow　haze　of　brimstone　coloured　the　unbreathable　air　and　the　room　shook　and　shivered　beneath　the　hellish　assault。
　Omally　crawled　over　to　Soap　Distant；　who　had　wisely　assumed　the　foetal　position　beneath　the　table。　'You've　got　to　get　us　out；'　he　shouted；　tearing　away　the　hands　clamped　about　the　albino　head。　'There　has　to　be　a　way。'
　'No　way。'　Soap　tore　himself　from　Omally's　hold。　'No　way。'
　Shivers　of　woodwork　flew　from　the　bottom　of　the　door　as　the　evil　barbs；　now　showing　porcupine　quills　and　scorpion　tails　thrashing　about　them；　stripped　the　Ronseal　finish　clear　down　to　the　filled　knot…holes。　Omally　stumbled　to　his　feet。　Sherlock　Holmes　was　standing　alone　in　the　whirlwind；　a　speckled　band　tied　bandana…fashion　across　his　face。　A　finger　in　the　air。　The　doyen　of　dicks　was　definitely　off　his　trolley；　thought　John。　As　if　reading　his　thoughts；　Holmes　suddenly　struck　him　a　weltering　blow　to　the　skull。　Caught　in　surprise　John　hit　the　deck。　Holmes　leapt　down　upon　him　and　pointed　frantically　through　the　swirling；　cascading　stench。　'Fireplace；'　he　shouted；　his　voice　all　but　lost　amidst　the　screaming；　the　hurricane；　and　the　splintering　woodwork。　'Up　the　chimney；　get　going；　quick。'
　It　took　very　little　time　for　Omally　to　cop　on。　Grabbing　the　huddled　Pooley　firmly　by　the　collar；　he　dragged　him　towards　what　was　surely　the　only　hope　of　escape。　Holmes　stepped　over　to　Soap　and　booted　him　in　the　ribcage。　Soap　peered　up　bitterly　towards　his　tormentor；　a　dizzy　blur；　lost　for　the　most　part　in　the　maelstrom　of　tearing　elements。　Holmes　stretched　deftly　forward　and　hooked　a　pair　of　fingers　into　the　sub…Earther's　nostrils。　'Lead　us　out！'　he　cried；　bearing　him　aloft。　Whimpering　and　howling；　but　somehow　happy　for　the　nose…plugs；　Soap　staggered　forward。　Holmes　thrust　his　head　first　into　the　fireplace　and　then；　suddenly　enlightened；　Soap　turned　towards　his　persecutor　with　a　nodding；　smiling　head　and　gestured　upwards。　Within　a　moment　he　was　scrabbling　into　the　darkness　above。　Omally　pressed　Jim　onwards　and　followed　hard　upon　his　heels。　Holmes　spun　about；　revolver　in　hand；　as　the　door　burst　from　its　hinges　to　spin　a　million　whirling　fragments　about　him。　The　icy　gale　tore　his　tweedy　jacket　from　his　shoulders　as　the　thing　rolled　into　the　room；　a　tangle　of　barbs；　quills　and　spikes；　whipping　and　lashing　and　screaming；　screaming。　The　great　detective　held　his　ground　and　fired　off　his　revolver　again　and　again　into　the　spinning　ball　of　death　as　it　charged　towards　him。
　The　wind　and　the　terror　ing　from　below　spurred　on　the　three…man　escape　mittee　as　it　crept　higher　and　higher　up　the　narrow　black　chimney。　Soap's　voice　called　down　from　above；　'e　on；　lads；　shouldn't　be　more　than　a　mile　at　most。'　Pooley　mumbled　and　plained；　but　Omally；　who　was　tail…end　Charlie　and　in　the　most　vulnerable　position；　bit　him　in　the　ankle。　A　howl　of　pain　and　a　sudden　acceleration　from　Jim　assured　the　struggling　Irishman　that　the　message　was　well…received。
　The　going　was　far　from　certain　and　made　ever　more　perilous　by　the　cramped　space　and　the　plete　and　utter　darkness。　Stones　and　grit　tumbled　down　into　the　climbers'　faces。　Soap　trod　upon　Jim's　hands　and　Jim　out　of　fairness　trod　upon　John's。　Higher　and　higher　up　the　slim　shaft　of　hope　they　clambered　until　at　last　they　could　no　longer　feel　the　icy　wind　rushing　from　below　or　the　awful　stench　souring　their　nostrils。　They　paused　a　moment；　clinging　to　what　they　could　for　dear　life；　to　catch　their　breath；　and　cough　up　what　was　left　of　their　lungs。
　'How　much　farther；　Soap？'　Omally　wiped　at　his　streaming　eyes　and　strained　to　support　himself　whilst　delving　in　his　pockets　for　a　fag。
　'A　goodly　way　and　all　of　it　straight　up。'
　'There　is　actually　an　opening　at　the　top？'　Jim　ventured。　'I　mean　I'd　just　hate　to　climb　all　this　way　and　find　myself　peering　out　of　a　ventilation　duct　in　Lateinos　and　Romiith's　basement。'
　'Hm。　To　be　quite　candid；　this　digging　is　one　of　the　great　granddaddy's。　We　shall