cb.imajica1-第5章

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　〃The　Bastard　Boy　speaks。〃
　〃I　wish　you　wouldn't　call　me　that。〃
　〃It's　what　you　are。　You　haven't　changed　in　eight　years。　The　world　grows　old；　but　the　Bastard　Boy　keeps　his　perfection。　Speaking　of　which…〃
　〃Employ　me。〃
　〃Don't　interrupt　me　when　I'm　gossiping。　Speaking　of　which；　I　saw　Clem　the　Sunday　before　last。　He　asked　after　you。　He's　put　on　a　lot　of　weight。　And　his　love　life's　almost　as　disastrous　as　yours。　Taylor's　sick　with　the　plague。　I　tell　you；　Gentle；　celibacy's　the　thing。〃
　〃So　employ　me。〃
　〃It's　not　as　easy　as　that。　The　market's　soft　at　the　moment。　And；　well；　let　me　be　brutal：　I　have　a　new　wunder…kind。〃　He　got　up。　〃Let　me　show　you。〃　He　led　Gentle　through　the　house　to　the　study。　'The　fellow's　twenty…two；　and　I　swear　if　he　had　an　idea　in　his　head　he'd　be　a　great　painter。　But　he's　like　you；　he's　got　the　talent　but　nothing　to　say。〃
　〃Thanks；〃　said　Gentle　sourly。
　〃You　know　it's　true。〃　Klein　switched　on　the　light。　There　were　three　canvases；　all　unframed；　in　the　room。　One；　a　nude　woman　after　the　style　of　Modigliani。　Beside　it；　a　small　landscape　after　Corot。　But　the　third；　and　largest　of　the　three；　was　the　coup。　It　was　a　pastoral　scene；　depicting　classically　garbed　shepherds　standing；　in　awe；　before　a　tree　in　the　trunk　of　which　a　human　face　was　visible。
　〃Would　you　know　it　from　a　real　Poussin？〃
　〃Is　it　still　wet？〃　Gentle　asked。
　〃Such　a　wit。〃
　Gentle　went　to　give　the　painting　a　more　intimate　examination。　This　period　was　not　one　he　was　particularly　expert　in；　but　he　knew　enough　to　be　impressed　by　the　handiwork。　The　canvas　was　a　close　weave；　the　paint　laid　upon　it　in　careful　regular　strokes；　the　tones　built　up；　it　seemed；　in　glazes。
　〃Meticulous；　eh？〃　said　Klein。
　〃To　the　point　of　being　mechanical。〃
　〃Now；　now；　no　sour　grapes。〃
　〃I　mean　it。　It's　just　too　perfect　for　words。　You　put　this　in　the　market　and　the　game's　up。　Now；　the　Modigliani's　another　matter…〃
　〃That　was　a　technical　exercise；〃　Klein　said。　〃I　can't　sell　that。　The　man　only　painted　a　dozen　pictures。　It's　the　Poussin　I'm　betting　on。〃
　〃Don't。　You'll　get　stung。　Mind　if　I　get　another　drink？〃
　Gentle　headed　back　through　the　house　to　the　lounge；　Klein　following；　muttering　to　himself。
　〃You've　got　a　good　eye。　Gentle；〃　he　said；　〃but　you're　unreliable。　You'll　find　another　woman　and　off　you'll　go。〃
　〃Not　this　time。〃
　〃And　I　wasn't　kidding　about　the　market。　There's　no　room　for　bullshit。〃
　〃Did　you　ever　have　a　problem　with　a　piece　I　painted？〃
　Klein　mused　on　this。　〃No；〃　he　admitted。
　〃I've　got　a　Gauguin　in　New　York。　Those　Fuseli　sketches　I　did…〃
　〃Berlin。　Oh；　yes；　you've　made　your　little　mark。〃
　〃Nobody's　ever　going　to　know　it；　of　course。〃
　〃They　will。　In　a　hundred　years'　time　your　Fuselis　will　look　as　old　as　they　are；　not　as　old　as　they　should　be。　People　will　start　to　investigate；　and　you；　my　Bastard　Boy；　will　be　discovered。　And　so　will　Kenny　Soames　and　Gideon：　all　my　deceivers。〃
　〃And　you'll　be　vilified　for　bribing　us。　Denying　the　twentieth　century　all　that　originality。〃
　〃Originality；　shit。　It's　an　overrated　modity；　you　know　that。　You　can　be　a　visionary　painting　Virgins。〃
　〃That's　what　I'll　do；　then。　Virgins　in　any　style。　I'll　be　celibate；　and　I'll　paint　Madonnas　all　day。　With　child。　Without　child。　Weeping。　Blissful。　I'll　work　my　balls　off；　Kleiny；　which'll　be　fine　because　I　won't　need　them。〃
　〃Forget　the　Virgins。　They're　out　of　fashion。〃
　〃They're　forgotten。〃
　〃Decadence　is　your　strongest　suit。〃
　〃Whatever　you　want。　Say　the　word。〃
　〃But　don't　fuck　with　me。　If　I　find　a　client　and　promise　something　to　him；　it's　up　to　you　to　produce　it。〃
　〃I'm　going　back　to　the　studio　tonight。　I'm　starting　over。　Just　do　one　thing　for　me？〃
　〃What's　that？〃
　〃Burn　the　Poussin。〃
　He　had　visited　the　studio　on　and　off　through　his　time　with　Vanessa…he'd　even　met　Marline　there　on　two　occasions　when　her　husband　had　canceled　a　Luxembourg　trip　and　she'd　been　too　heated　to　miss　a　liaison…but　it　was　charmless　and　cheerless；　and　he'd　returned　happily　to　the　house　in　Wimpole　Mews。　Now；　however；　he　weled　the　studio's　austerity。　He　turned　on　the　little　electric　fire；　made　himself　a　cup　of　fake　coffee　with　fake　milk；　and；　under　its　influence；　thought　about　deception。
　The　last　six　years　of　his　life…since　Judith；　in　fact…had　been　a　series　of　duplicities。　This　was　not　of　itself　disastrous…after　tonight　it　would　once　more　be　his　profess　sion…but　whereas　painting　had　a　tangible　end　result　（two；　if　he　included　the　repense）；　pursuit　and　seduction　always　left　him　naked　and　empty…handed。　An　end　to　that；　tonight。　He　made　a　vow；　toasted　in　bad　coffee；　to　the　God　of　Forgers；　whoever　he　was；　to　bee　great。　If　duplicity　was　his　genius；　why　waste　it　on　deceiving　husbands　and　mistresses？　He　should　turn　it　to　a　profounder　end；　produc　ing　masterpieces　in　another　man's　name。　Time　would　validate　him；　the　way　Klein　had　said　it　would：　uncover　his　many　works　and　show　him；　at　last；　as　the　visionary　he　was　about　to　bee。　And　if　it　didn't…if　Ktein　was　wrong　and　his　handiwork　remained　undiscovered　forever…then　that　was　the　truest　vision　of　all。　Invisible；　he　would　be　seen；　un　known；　he'd　be　influential。　It　was　enough　to　make　him　for　get　women　entirely。　At　least　for　tonight。
　
　
　3
　
　AT　DUSK　THE　CLOUDS　OVER　MANHATTAN；　which　had　threatened　snow　all　day；　cleared　and　revealed　a　pristine　sky；　its　color　so　ambiguous　it　might　have　fueled　a　philosophical　debate　as　to　the　nature　of　blue。　Laden　as　she　was　with　her　day's　purchases；　Jude　chose　to　walk　back　to　Marlin's　apartment　at　Park　Avenue　and　80th。　Her　arms　ached；　but　it　gave　her　time　to　turn　over　in　her　head　the　encounter　which　had　marked　the　day　and　decide　whether　she　wanted　to　share　it　with　Martin　or　not。　Unfortunately；　he　had　a　lawyer's　mind：　at　best；　cool　and　analytical；　at　worst；　reductionist。　She　knew　herself　well　enough　to　know　that　if　he　challenged　her　account　in　the　latter　mode　she'd　almost　certainly　lose　her　temper　with　him；　and　then　the　atmosphere　between　them；　which　had　been　（with　the　exception　of　his　overtures）　so　easy　and　undemanding；　would　be　spoiled。　It　was　better　to　work　out　what　she　believed　about　the　events　of　the　previous　two　hours　before　she　shared　it　with　Marlin。　Then　he　could　dissect　it　at　will。
　Already；　after　going　over　the　encounter　a　few　times；　it　was　being；　like　the　blue　overhead；　ambiguous。　But　she　held　on　hard　to　the　facts　of　the　matter。　She'd　been　in　the　menswear　department　of　Bloomingdale's；　looking　for　a　sweater　for　Marlin。　It　was　crowded；　and　there　was　nothing　on　display　that　she　thought　appropriate。　She'd　started　to　pick　up　the　purchases　at　her　feet　when　she'd　caught　sight　of　a　face　she　knew；　looking　straight　at　her　through　the　moving　mesh　of　people。　How　long　had　she　seen　the　face　for？　A　second；　two　at　most？　Long　enough　for　her　heart　to　jump　and　her　face　to　flush；　long　enough　for　her　mouth　to　open　and　shape　the　word　Gentle。　Then　the　traffic　between　them　had　thickened；　and　he'd　disappeared。　She'd　fixed　the　place　where　he'd　been；　stooped　to　pick　up　her　baggage；　and　gone　after　him；　not　doubting　that　it　was　he。
　The　crowd　slowed　her　progress；　but　she　soon　caught　sight　of　him　again；　heading　towards　the　door。　This　time　she　yelled　his　name；　not　giving　a　damn　if　she　looked　a　fool；　and　dove　after　him。　She　was　impressive　in　full　flight；　and　the　crowd　yielded；　so　that　by　the　time　she　reached　the　door　he　was　only　yards　away。　Third　Avenue　was　as　thronged　as　the　store；　but　there　he　was；　heading　across　the　street。　The　lights　changed　as　she　got　to　the　curb。　She　went　after　him　anyway；　daring　the　traffic。　As　she　yelled　again　he　was　buffeted　by　a　shopper；　on　some　business　as　urgent　as　hers；　and　he　turned　as　he　was　struck；　giving　her　a　second　glimpse　of　him。　She　might　have　laughed　out　loud　at　the　absurdity　of　her　error　had　it　not　disturbed　her　so。　Either　she　was　losing　her　mind；　or　she'd　followed　the　wrong　man。　Either　way；　this　black　man；　his　ringleted　hair　gleaming　on　his　shoulders；　was　not　Gentle。　Momentarily　undecided　as　to　whether　to　go　on　looking　or　to　give　up　the　chase　there　and　then；　her　eyes　lingered　on　the　stranger's　face；　and　for　a　heartbeat　or　less　his　features　blurred　and　in　their　flux；　caught　as　if　by　the　sun　off　a　wing　in　the　stratosphere；　she　saw　Gentle；　his　hair　swept　back　fr