df.theedge-第26章
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would someone please tell her that she must telephone Steve from Sudbury； as he had serious news for her。
A lot of people nodded。 It was amazing。
Dressed in silk and ablaze with jewellery； apparently to prove that Donna's inheritance was no myth； Mavis Bricknell stumbled off towards the toilet room at the dome car's entrance saying she must repair the ravages to her face； and presently she came back； screaming loudly。
Angelica； it appeared； was lying on the lavatory floor； extremely dead。 Zak naturally bustled to investigate； followed by a sizeable section of the audience。 Some of them soon came back smiling weakly and looking unsettled。
'She can't really be dead；' someone said solemnly。 'But she certainly looks it。'
There was a lot of 'blood' all over the small partment； it appeared； with Angelica's battered head in shadow beyond the essential facility Angelica's eyes were just visible staring at the wall； unblinking。 'How can she do that？'' several said。
Zak came back； looked around him； and beckoned to me。
'Stand in front of that door； will you； and don't let anyone go in？'
I nodded and went through the crowd towards the dome car。 Zak himself was calling everyone back into the dining room； saying they should all stay together until we reached Sudbury； which would be soon。 I could hear Nell's voice announcing calmly that everyone had time for another drink。 There would be an hour's stop in Sudbury for everyone to stretch their legs if they wanted to； and dinner would be served as soon as the rain started again。
I went across the clattering； windy linkage space between the dining and dome cars and stood outside the toilet room。 I wasn't actually pleased with Zak as I didn't want to risk being identified as an actor； but that； I supposed； would be a great deal better than the truth。It was boring in the passage but also； it proved； necessary； as one or two passengers came back for a look at the corpse。 They were good humoured enough when turned away。 Meanwhile the corpse； who must have had to blink in the end； could be heard flushing water within。
When we began to slow down I knocked on the door。 'Message from Zak；' I said。
The door opened a fraction。 Angelica's greasepaint make…up was a pale bluish grey； her hair a mass of tomato ketchup。
'Lock the door；' I said。 'Zak will be along。 When you hear his voice outside； unlock it。'
'Right；' she said； sounding cheerfully alive。 'Have a nice trip。'
Chapter Eight
Angelica left the train on a stretcher in the dusk under bright station lights； her tomato head half covered by a blanket； and one lifeless hand； with red fingernails and sparkling rings； artistically drooping out of concealment on the side where the train's passengers were able to look on with fascination。
I watched the scene through the window of George Burley's office while I talked to Bill Baudelaire's mother on the telephone。
The conversation had been a surprise from the beginning； when a light young female voice had answered my call。
'Could I speak to Mrs Baudelaire； please？' I said。
'Speaking。'
'I mean。。。 Mrs Baudelaire senior。'
'Any Mrs Baudelaire who is senior to me is in her grave；' she announced。 'Who are you？'
'Tor Kelsey。'
'Oh yes；' she replied instantly。 'The invisible man。'
I half laughed。
'How do you do it？' she asked。 'I'm dying to know。'
'Seriously？'
'Of course； seriously。'
'Well。。。 say if someone serves you fairly often in a shop； you recognize them when you're in the shop； but if you meet them somewhere quite different； like at the races； you can't remember who they are。'
'Quite right。 It's happened to me often。'
'To be easily recognized；' I said； 'you have to be in your usual environment。 So the trick about invisibility is not to have a usual environment。'
There was a pause； then she said； 'Thank you。 It must be lonely。'
I couldn't think of an answer to that； but was astounded by her perception。
'The interesting thing is；' I said； 'that it's quite different for the people who work in the shop。 When they get to know their customers； they recognize them easily anywhere in the world。 So the racing people I know； I recognize everywhere。 They don't know that I exist。。。 and that's invisibility。'
'You are；' she said； 'an extraordinary young man。'
She stumped me again。
'But Bill knew you existed；' she said； 'and he told me he didn't recognize you face to face。'
'He was looking for the environment he knew。。。 straight hair； no sunglasses； a good grey suit； collar and tie。'
'Yes；' she said。 'If I meet you； will I know you？'
'I'll tell you。'
'Pact。'
This； I thought with relief and enjoyment； was some carrier pigeon。
'Would you give Bill some messages？' I asked。
'Fire away。 I'll write them down。'
'The train reaches Winnipeg tomorrow evening at about seven…thirty； and everyone disembarks to go to hotels。 Please would you tell Bill I will not be staying at the same hotel as the owners； and that I will again not be going to the President's lunch； but that I will be at the races； even if he doesn't see me。'
I paused。 She repeated what I'd said。
'Great；' I said。 'And would you ask him some questions？'
'Fire away。'
'Ask him for general information on a Mr and Mrs Young who own a horse called Sparrowgrass。'
'It's on the train；' she said。
'Yes； that's right。' I was surprised； but she said Bill had given her a list to be a help with messages。
'Ask him；' I said； 'if Sheridan Lorrimore has ever been in any trouble that he knows of； apart from assaulting an actor at Toronto； that should have resulted in Sheridan going to jail。'
'Gracious me。 The Lorrimores don't go to jail。'
'So I gathered；' I said dryly； 'and would you also ask which horses are running at Winnipeg and which at Vancouver； and which in Bill's opinion is the really best horse on the train； not necessarily on form； and which has the best chance of winning either race。'
'I don't need to ask Bill the first question； I can answer that for you right away； it's on this list。 Nearly all the eleven horses； nine to be exact； are running at Vancouver。 Only Upper Gumtree and Flokati run at Winnipeg。 As for the second； in my own opinion neither Upper Gumtree nor Flokati will win at Winnipeg because Mercer Lorrimore is shipping his great horse Premiere by horse…van。'
'Um。。。' I said。 'You follow racing quite a bit？'
'My dear young man； didn't Bill tell you？ His father and I owned and ran the Ontario Raceworld magazine for years before we sold it to a conglomerate。'
'I see；' I said faintly。
'And as for the Vancouver race；' she went on blithely； 'Laurentide Ice might as well melt right now； but Sparrowgrass and Voting Right are both in with a good chance。 Sparrowgrass will probably start favourite as his form is consistently good； but as you ask； very likely the best horse； the one with most potential for the future； is Mercer Lorrimore's Voting Right； and I would give that one the edge。'
'Mrs Baudelaire；' I said； 'you are a gem。'
'Beyond the price of rubies；' she agreed。 'Anything else？'
'Nothing； except。。。 I hope you are well。'
'No； not very。 You're kind to ask。 Goodbye； young man。 I'm always here。'
She put the receiver down quickly as if to stop me from asking anything else about her illness； and it reminded me sharply of my Aunt Viv； bright； spirited and horse mad to the end。
I went back to the dining car to find Oliver and Cathy lying the tables for dinner； and I helped them automatically； although they said I needn't。 The job done； we repaired to the kitchen door to see literally what was cooking and to take the printed menus from Angus to put on the tables。
Blinis with caviar； we read； followed by rack of lamb or cold poached salmon； then chocolate mousse with cream。
'There won't be any over；' Cathy sighed； and she was right as far as the blinis went； though we all ate lamb in the end。
With ovens and gas burners roaring away； it was wiltingly hot even at the dining…room end of the kitchen。 Down where the chef worked； a temperature
