p&c.brimstone-第22章
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〃There are many。 For example〃…she indicated the wormy cover of theArs Notorium with a faint look of distaste…〃the Tale of Geoffrey； magister of Kent。〃
〃Go on。〃
〃The tales don't vary greatly from the Faustian theme； except in the details。 A highly learned man； restless and dissatisfied； a manuscript； raising the devil； promises made； promises broken； a warm end。 In this case； Magister Geoffrey was a doctor of philosophy at Oxford in the early 1400s； a chemist and mathematician。 His great passion was the mystery of the prime numbers。 He spent years in his studio； calculating the primes out to five digits。 Some of the calculations involved more than a year of work； and they say he needed a little help to finish them。 Hence； the pact with Lucifer。 There was talk in Oriel College of chanting； ugly smells； unexplained noises； and strange lights burning in the scholar's chambers long after midnight。 The magister continued to teach and do his alchemical experiments。 His fame spread far and wide。 He was said to have discovered the arcanum for transforming lead into gold； and he was admitted into the Order of the Golden Chalice by King Henry VI himself。 He published his great workThe Nyne Numbers of God and was known across Europe for his wisdom and learning。
〃But then things began to change。 At the height of his fame； he became nervous； suspicious； strange。 He was often ill； confined to his chambers。 He jumped at every noise。 He seemed to grow thin； his eyes staring 'like the great hollow eyes of a calf in the slaughter。' He ordered brass locks and had his doors clad and banded in iron。
〃And then one day his students missed him at breakfast。 They went to his chambers。 The door was locked； the iron hot to the touch。 There was a smell of phosphorus and sulfur。 Only with great effort could they break it down。
〃They beheld a terrible sight。 Geoffrey； magister of Kent； lay on his wooden pallet； fully dressed； as if laid out for burial。 There were no cuts on his skin； no breaks； no bruising。 And yet his heart lay next to the body； partially burned and still smoking。 They said it wouldn't stop beating until it had been sprinkled with holy water。 Then it burst。 The details are rather 。 。 。 unpleasant。〃
Pendergast glanced at the girl。 She leaned forward； took a sip of tea； replaced the cup； smiled。
〃And do the texts describe just how the Prince of Darkness was conjured？〃
〃They drew circles around themselves。 Generally； nine feet in diameter。 They were usually drawn with anarthame ； or ceremonial knife。 Frequently； there were smaller circles or pentacles within the larger one。 Above all； it was critical that the circle not be broken during the ceremony…as long as he remained within the circle； the conjurer was safe from the demons he summoned。〃
〃And once the demons were summoned？〃
〃A contract was made。 The usual： wealth； power； knowledge； in return for one's immortal soul。 Faust； of course； is the prototypical story…particularly in the way it ends。〃
Pendergast nodded encouragingly。
〃After making his personal deal with the devil； Faust had all the power； earthly and unearthly； he had always craved。 But he had other things as well。 He plained of never being alone： of eyes in the walls watching him； of noises； strange noises like the clicking of teeth。 Despite having everything mortal beings can possess； he grew restless。 Eventually； as the days of his contract grew short； he took to reading the Bible； loudly proclaiming his repentance。 He spent his last evening in the pany of his drinking panions； weeping bitterly； bewailing his sins； begging heaven to slow the passage of hours。〃
〃'O lente； lente； currite noctis equi；'〃Pendergast intoned quietly。
〃Dr。 Faustus； Act 5； scene 2；〃 Constance said immediately。
〃 The stars move still； time runs； the clock will strike； The devil will e； and Faustus must be damned。〃
A small smile broke across Pendergast's features。
〃According to legend； terrible screams were heard issuing from his rooms after midnight。 None of his guests dared investigate。 In the morning； they found his bedchamber turned into an abattoir。 The walls were painted in blood。 Somebody found a lone eyeball in a corner of the room。 The crushed； limp remains of his skull clung to one wall。 The rest of his body was found in the alley below； thrown over a pile of horse manure。 They said…〃
She was interrupted by a knock at the library door。
〃That would be Sergeant D'Agosta；〃 Pendergast said； glancing up at the clock。 〃e in；〃 he called in a louder voice。
The door opened slowly and Sergeant Vincent D'Agosta stepped into the library： dirty； clothes torn； scratched； bleeding。
Pendergast rose abruptly from his chair。 〃Vincent！〃
16
D'Agosta slumped in a chair； feeling dazed and in shock。 Itseemed one…half of his body was numb； and the half that wasn't was throbbing in pain。 The old mansion gave him the creeps； so damp； cold； and dark。 Was this really where Pendergast was now living？ Here the guy had a beautiful place on Central Park West； but chose instead to live in deepest Harlem； in a spookhouse of a museum no less； all stuffed animals and skeletons and shelves covered with weird crap。 At least this library was like an oasis： soft chairs； a roaring fire。 Pendergast had a guest； it seemed； but for the moment D'Agosta felt too scratched； bruised； and wiped out to care。
〃You look like you just escaped from the devil；〃 Pendergast said。
〃I did。〃
〃Sherry？〃
〃You wouldn't happen to have a cold Bud？〃
Pendergast looked pained。 〃Would a Pilsner Urquell do？〃
〃If it's beer； it'll do。〃
The other occupant of the library…a young woman in a long salmon…colored dress…rose and left the room。 Within a few minutes； she was back； bearing a glass of beer on a salver。 D'Agosta took it and drank gratefully。 〃Thanks； uh 。 。 。〃
〃Constance；〃 came the soft reply。
〃Constance Greene；〃 said Pendergast。 〃My ward。 This is Sergeant Vincent D'Agosta； a trusted associate of mine。 He's assisting in this case。〃
D'Agosta glanced at Pendergast。 His ward？ What the hell did that mean？ He looked back more curiously at the girl。 She was beautiful； in a pale； delicate kind of way。 Her dress was very proper and demure； but the breasts that swelled the lace…front brought a mostun demure stirring to D'Agosta's loins。 Despite the old…fashioned clothes； she looked no older than twenty。 But those violet eyes of hers； so alert and intelligent； somehow didn't look like the eyes of a young girl at all。 Not at all。
〃Glad to meet you；〃 said D'Agosta； straightening up in his chair and wincing。
〃Are you hurt？〃 Pendergast asked。
〃Just about everywhere。〃 D'Agosta took another long pull。
〃Tell us what happened。〃
D'Agosta set down the glass。 〃I'll start at the beginning。 I visited Lady Milbanke first。 She was a plete wash。 All she wanted to do was talk about her new emerald necklace。 Cutforth wasn't much better： lied about the reason Grove called him； answered questions evasively if at all。 Last was Bullard； at the New York Athletic Club。 Claims he hardly knew Grove； doesn't know why he called； can't really remember what they chatted about； doesn't know how Grove got his number。 A liar through and through； and didn't even bother to hide it。〃
〃Interesting。〃
〃Yeah； a real piece of work。 Big； ugly； arrogant motherf…〃 D'Agosta glanced at the girl。 〃Man。 Basically； he blew me off。 I left； ate dinner at Mullin's Pub over on Broadway。 Caught sight of a gold Impala more than once。 Took the subway to 96th and walked over to Riverside。 Hoofed it from there。 The Impala reappeared again around 130th。〃
〃Heading north or south？〃
D'Agosta wondered why that was important。 〃North。〃
Pendergast nodded。
〃I saw something was about to e down； so I ran into Riverside Park。 Two guys jumped out and chased me； shooting laser…sighted handguns： accurate； large…caliber。 Chased me through the park。 I ran down toward the West Side Highway and came up against a chain…link fence。 I really thought it was over。 Then I noticed a recent car wreck fifty yards on。 Some shitbox had gone through the fence； making a gap。 Just left the car rotting there。 I dove thr
