p&c.icelimit-第42章

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ed　a　cigar　box　from　a　desk　drawer　with　his　good　hand；　offering　the　box　to　the　stranger。　The　man　glanced　at　the　cigars　with　disdain　and　shook　his　head。　Vallenar　took　one　for　himself。
　〃I　apologize　for　the　cigars；〃　the　andante　said；　replacing　the　box。　〃They　are　of　very　poor　quality。　Here　in　the　navy；　you　must　take　what　you　are　given。〃
　The　man　smiled　condescendingly；　staring　at　his　withered　right　arm。　Vallenar　eyed　the　heavy　sheen　of　pomade　in　the　man's　hair　and　the　clear　polish　on　his　fingernails。　〃Sit　down；　my　friend；〃　he　said；　placing　the　cigar　in　his　mouth。　〃Forgive　me　if　I　continue　shaving　while　we　talk。〃
　The　man　took　a　seat　in　front　of　the　desk；　daintily　propping　one　leg　over　the　other。
　〃I　understand　you　are　a　dealer　in　used　electronic　equipment　…　watches；　puters；　photocopiers；　that　sort　of　thing。〃　Vallenar　paused　while　drawing　the　razor　across　his　upper　lip。　〃Yes？〃　
　〃New　and　used　equipment；〃　the　man　said。
　〃I　stand　corrected；〃　Vallenar　said。　〃About　four　or　five　months　ago　…　it　would　have　been　in　March；　I　believe　…　you　purchased　a　certain　piece　of　equipment；　a　tomographic　sounder。　It　is　a　tool　used　by　prospectors；　a　set　of　long　metal　rods　with　a　keyboard　at　its　center。　Did　you　not？〃　
　〃Mi　andante；　I　have　a　large　business。　I　cannot　remember　every　piece　of　junk　that　crosses　my　door。〃
　Vallenar　turned。　〃I　did　not　say　it　was　junk。　You　said　you　sell　new　and　used　equipment；　did　you　not？〃
　The　merchant　shrugged；　raised　his　hands；　and　smiled。　It　was　a　smile　that　the　andante　had　seen　countless　times　before　from　petty　bureaucrats；　officials；　businessmen。　It　was　a　smile　that　said；　I　won't　know　anything；　and　I　won't　help　you；　until　I　get　la　mordida；　the　bribe。　It　was　the　same　smile　he　had　seen　on　the　faces　of　the　customs　officials　in　Puerto　Williams；　a　week　before。　And　yet　today；　instead　of　rage；　he　felt　only　a　great　pity　for　this　man。　A　man　like　this　wasn't　born　polluted。　He　had　been　corrupted　by　degrees。　It　was　a　symptom　of　a　greater　sickness；　a　sickness　that　manifested　itself　all　around　him。
　Sighing　deeply；　Vallenar　came　around　the　desk　and　perched　on　the　edge　closest　to　the　merchant。　He　smiled　at　the　man；　feeling　the　shaving　cream　drying　on　his　skin。　The　merchant　nodded　his　head　with　a　conspiratorial　wink。　As　he　did　so；　he　rubbed　his　thumb　and　forefinger　together　in　the　universal　gesture；　laying　the　other　manicured　palm　on　the　table。
　As　quick　as　a　striking　snake；　the　andante's　hand　shot　forward。　With　a　sharp；　digging　movement；　he　sank　the　twin　blades　of　the　razor　into　the　moon　end　of　the　merchant's　middle　fingernail。　The　man　drew　in　his　breath　sharply。　Terrified　eyes　stared　up　at　the　andante；　who　met　his　gaze　with　perfect　impassivity。　Then　the　andante　gave　a　brutal　tug　and　the　man　shrieked　as　the　fingernail　was　torn　away。
　Vallenar　shook　the　razor；　flicking　the　bloody　nail　out　the　porthole。　Then　he　turned　to　the　mirror　and　resumed　shaving。　For　a　moment；　the　only　sounds　in　the　small　cabin　were　the　scrape　of　the　blades　against　skin　and　the　loud　moaning　of　the　merchant。　Vallenar　noticed；　with　faint　interest；　that　the　razor　was　leaving　an　unshaven　stripe　on　his　face；　a　piece　of　matter　must　have　remained　stuck　between　the　blades。
　He　rinsed　the　blade　again　and　finished　shaving。　Then；　patting　and　drying　his　face；　he　turned　to　the　merchant。　The　man　had　risen　to　his　feet　and　was　standing　before　the　desk；　swaying　and　moaning；　and　clutching　his　dripping　finger。
　Vallenar　leaned　over　the　desk；　tugged　a　handkerchief　out　of　his　pocket；　and　gently　wrapped　it　around　the　man's　wounded　finger。　〃Please；　sit　down；〃　he　said。
　The　merchant　sat；　whimpering　softly；　his　jowls　quivering　with　fright。
　〃You　will　do　us　both　a　service　if　you　answer　my　questions　quickly　and　precisely。　Now；　did　you　purchase　a　device　such　as　I　described？〃
　〃Yes；　I　did；〃　the　man　said　instantly。　〃I　did　have　an　instrument　like　that；　andante。〃
　〃And　who　bought　it　from　you？〃
　〃An　American　artist。〃　He　cradled　his　wounded　finger。
　〃An　artist？〃
　〃A　sculptor。　He　wanted　to　make　a　modern　sculpture　out　of　it　to　show　in　New　York。　It　was　rusted；　useless　for　anything　else。〃
　Vallenar　smiled。　〃An　American　sculptor。　What　was　his　name？〃
　〃He　did　not　give　me　his　name。〃
　Vallenar　nodded；　still　smiling。　The　man　was　now　so　very　eager　to　tell　the　truth。　〃Of　course　not。　And　now　tell　me；　senor　…　but　I　realize　I　have　not　asked　your　name。　How　inconsiderate　of　me。〃
　〃Tornero；　mi　andante。　Rafael　Tornero　Perea。〃
　〃Senor　Tornero；　tell　me；　from　whom　did　you　purchase　the　instrument？〃
　〃A　mestizo。〃
　Vallenar　paused。　〃A　mestizo？　What　was　his　name？〃
　〃I　am　sorry。。。　I　do　not　know。〃
　Vallenar　frowned。　〃You　don't　know　his　name？　There　are　very　few　mestizos　left；　and　fewer　still　e　to　Punta　Arenas。〃
　〃I　can't　remember；　andante；　truly　I　can't。〃　The　man's　eyes　grew　frantic　as　he　searched　his　memory　in　desperation。　Sweat　trickled　from　the　pomaded　brow。　〃He　was　not　from　Punta　Arenas；　he　was　from　the　south。　It　was　a　strange　name。〃
　Suddenly；　a　flash　came　over　Vallenar。　〃Was　it　Puppup？　Juan　Puppup？〃
　〃Yes！　Thank　you；　thank　you；　andante；　for　refreshing　my　memory。　Puppup。　That　was　the　name。〃
　〃Did　he　say　where　he　found　it？〃
　〃Yes。　He　said　he　found　it　on　las　Islas　de　Hornos。　I　didn't　believe　him。　Why　would　anything　of　value　be　found　down　there？〃　The　man　was　babbling　urgently　now；　speaking　as　if　he　could　not　get　the　words　out　fast　enough。　〃I　thought　he　was　trying　to　get　a　better　price。〃　His　face　brightened。　〃And　now；　I　remember；　there　was　a　pick；　and　a　strange…looking　hammer；　too。　〃
　〃A　strange…looking　hammer？〃
　〃Yes。　One　end　was　long　and　curved。　And　there　was　a　leather　bag　of　rocks。　The　American　bought　all　those　things；　too。〃
　Vallenar　leaned　eagerly　across　the　desk。　〃Rocks？　Did　you　look　at　them？〃
　〃Yes；　sir；　I　certainly　did。　I　looked　at　them。〃
　〃Were　they　gold？〃
　〃Oh；　no。　They　had　no　value。〃
　〃Ah。　And　you　must　be　a　geologist；　of　course；　to　know　that　they　had　no　value？〃
　Though　Vallenar's　tone　was　mild；　the　man　cringed　in　the　chair。　〃andante；　I　showed　them　to　Senor　Alonso　Torres；　who　owns　the　rock　shop　on　Calle　Colinas。　I　thought　they　might　be　valuable　ores。　But　he　said　they　were　worthless。　He　said　I　should　throw　them　away。〃
　〃And　how　would　he　know？〃
　〃He　knows；　andante。　He　is　an　expert　in　rocks　and　minerals。〃
　Vallenar　walked　toward　the　single　porthole；　limed　and　rusted　from　years　of　salt　water。　〃Did　he　say　what　they　were？〃
　〃He　said　they　were　nothing。〃
　Vallenar　turned　back　to　the　merchant。　〃What　did　they　look　like？〃
　〃They　were　just　rocks。　Ugly　rocks。〃
　Vallenar　closed　his　eyes；　trying　hard　to　stem　the　anger　rising　within　him。　It　would　be　unseemly　to　lose　his　temper；　here　in　front　of　a　guest　on　his　own　ship。
　〃I　may　have　one　more　in　my　shop；　andante。〃
　Vallenar　opened　his　eyes　again。　〃You　may？〃
　〃Senor　Torres　kept　one　to　do　further　tests。　I　got　it　back　after　the　American　bought　the　instrument。　For　a　time；　I　used　it　as　a　paperweight。　I；　too；　hoped　it　might　be　valuable；　despite　what　Senor　Torres　said。　Perhaps　I　can　still　locate　it。〃
　andante　Vallenar　suddenly　smiled。　He　removed　the　unlit　cigar　from　his　mouth；　examined　the　tip；　and　lit　it　from　a　box　of　wooden　matches　on　his　desk。　〃I　should　like　to　purchase　this　rock　you　mention。〃
　〃You　are　interested　in　this　rock？　It　would　be　my　privilege　to　give　it　to　you。　Let　us　not　talk　of　purchase；　andante。〃
　Vallenar　bowed　slightly。　〃Then　I　would　be　pleased　to　acpany　you；　senor；　to　your　place　of　business；　to　accept　this　kind　gift。〃　Then　he　took　a　deep　drag　on　the　cigar　and；　with　the　greatest　of　courtesy；　ushered　the　merchant　out　of　the　cabin　and　into　the　foul　central　corridor　of　the　Almirante　Ramirez。
　
　Rolvaag；
　9：35　A。M。
　
　THE　DRILL　bit　was　laid　out　on　an　examination　table；　its　scorched　head　resting　on　a　bed　of　white　plastic。　A　bank　of　overhead　lights　bathed　the　hulk　in　blue。　Sampling　instruments　were　lined　up　beside　it；　individually　sealed　in　plastic。　McFarlane；　dressed　in　scrubs；　fitted　a　surgical　mask　into　position　over　his　head。　The　channel　was　unusually　calm。　In　the　windowless　lab；　it　was　hard　to　believe　they　were　on　board　a　ship。
　〃Scalpel；　doctor？〃　Amira　asked；　her　voice　muffled　by　her　mask。
　McFarlane　shook　his　head。　〃Nurse；　I　think　we　lost　the　patient。〃