John le Carré - The Honourable Schoolboy_part2

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PART TWO
PART TWO - SHAKING
THE TREE
Chapter 13 - Liese
Star Heights was the newest and tallest block in
the Midlevels, built on the round, and by night
jammed like a huge lighted pencil into the soft
darkness of the Peak. A winding causeway led to
it, but the only pavement was a line of kerbstone
six inches wide between the causeway and the
cliff. At Star Heights, pedestrians were in bad
taste. It was early evening and the social rush
hour was nearing its height. As Jerry edged his
way along the kerb, the Mercedes and Rolls-
Royces brushed against him in their haste to
deliver and collect. He carried a bunch of orchids
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PART TWO
wrapped in tissue: larger than the bunch which
Craw had presented to Phoebe Wayfarer, smaller
than the one Drake Ko had given the dead boy
Nelson. These orchids were for nobody. 'When
you're my size, sport, you have to have a hell of a
good reason for whatever you do.'
He felt tense but also relieved that the long, long
wait was over.
A straight foot-in-the-door operation, your Grace,
Craw had advised him at yesterday's protracted
briefing. Shove your way in there and start
pitching and don't stop till you're out the other
side.
With one leg, thought Jerry.
A striped awning led to the entrance hall and a
perfume of women hung in the air, like a foretaste
of his errand. And just remember Ko owns the
building, Craw had added sourly, as a parting
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PART TWO
gift. The interior decoration was not quite
finished. Plates of marble were missing round the
mail boxes. A fibreglass fish should have been
spewing water into a terrazzo fountain, but the
pipes had not yet been connected and bags of
cement were heaped in the basin. He headed for
the lifts. A glass booth was marked 'Reception'
and the Chinese porter was watching him from
inside it. Jerry only saw the blur of him. He had
been reading when Jerry arrived, but now he was
staring at Jerry, undecided whether to challenge
him, but half reassured by the orchids. A couple
of American matrons in full warpaint arrived, and
took up a position near him.
'Great blooms,' they said, poking in the tissue.
'Super, aren't they. Here, have them. Present!
Come on! Beautiful women. Naked without
them!'
Laughter. The English are a race apart. The porter
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PART TWO
returned to his reading and Jerry was
authenticated. A lift arrived. A herd of diplomats,
businessmen and their squaws shuffled into the
lobby, sullen and bejewelled. Jerry ushered the
American matrons ahead of him. Cigar smoke
mingled with the scent, slovenly canned music
hummed forgotten melodies. The matrons
pressed the button for twelve.
'You visiting with the Hammersteins too?' they
asked, still looking at the orchids.
At the fifteenth, Jerry made for the fire stairs.
They stank of cat, and rubbish from the shoot.
Descending he met an amah carrying a nappy
bucket. She scowled at him till he greeted her,
then laughed uproariously. He kept going till he
reached the eighth floor where he stepped back
into the plush of the residents' landing. He was at
the end of a corridor. A small rotunda gave on to
two gold lift doors. There were four flats, each a
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PART TWO
quadrant of the circular building, and each with
its own corridor. He took up a position in the B
corridor with only the flowers to protect him. He
was watching the rotunda, his attention on the
mouth of the corridor marked C. The tissue round
the orchids was damp where he'd been clutching
it too tight.
'It's a firm weekly date,' Craw had assured him.
'Every Monday, flower arrangement at the
American Club. Regular as clockwork. She meets
a girlfriend there, Nellie Tan, works for Airsea.
They take in the flower arrangement and stay for
dinner afterwards.'
'So where's Ko meanwhile?'
'In Bangkok. Trading.'
'Well let's bloody well hope he stays there.'
'Amen, sir. Amen.'
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PART TWO
With a shriek of new hinges unoiled, the door at
his ear was yanked open and a slim young
American in a dinner-jacket stepped into the
corridor, stopped dead, and stared at Jerry and the
orchids. He had blue, steady eyes and he carried a
briefcase.
'You looking for me with those things?' he
enquired, with a Boston society drawl. He looked
rich and assured. Jerry guessed diplomacy or Ivy
League banking.
'Well I don't think so actually,' Jerry confessed,
playing the English bloody fool. 'Cavendish,'- he
said. Over the American's shoulder Jerry saw the
door quietly close on a packed bookshelf. 'Friend
of mine asked me to give these to a Miss
Cavendish at 9D. Waltzed off to Manila, left me
holding the orchids, sort of thing.'
'Wrong floor,' said the American strolling toward
the lift. 'You want one up. Wrong corridor too.
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PART TWO
D's over the other side. Thattaway.'
Jerry stood beside him, pretending to wait for an
up lift. The down lift came first, the young
American stepped easily into it and Jerry resumed
his post. The door marked C opened, he saw her
come out, and turn to double-lock it. Her clothes
were everyday. Her hair was long and ashblonde
but she had tied it in a pony tail at the nape. She
wore a plain halter-neck dress and sandals, and
though he couldn't see her face he knew already
she was beautiful. She walked to the lift, still not
seeing him and Jerry had the illusion of looking
in on her through a window from the street.
There were women in Jerry's world who carried
their bodies as if they were citadels to be stormed
only by the bravest, and Jerry had married
several; or perhaps they grew that way under his
influence. There were women who seemed
determined to hate themselves, hunching their
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PART TWO
backs and locking up their hips. And there were
women who had only to walk toward him to
bring him a gift. They were the rare ones and for
Jerry at that moment she led the pack. She had
stopped at the gold doors and was watching the
lighted numbers. He reached her side as the lift
arrived and she still hadn't noticed him. It was
jammed full, as he had hoped it would be. He
entered crabwise, intent on the orchids,
apologising, grinning and making a show of
holding them high. She had her back to him, and
he was standing at her shoulder. It was a strong
shoulder, and bare either side of the halter, and
Jerry could see small freckles and a down of tiny
gold hairs disappearing down her spine. Her face
was in profile below him. He peered down at it.
'Lizzie?' he said, uncertainly. 'Hey, Lizzie, it's
me; Jerry.'
She turned sharply and stared up at him. He
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PART TWO
wished he could have backed away from her
because he knew her first response would be
physical fear of his size, and he was right. He saw
it momentarily in her grey eyes, which flickered
before holding him in their stare.
'Lizzie Worthington!' he declared more
confidently. 'How's the whisky, remember me?
One of your proud investors. Jerry. Chum of Tiny
Ricardo's. One fifty-gallon keg with my name on
the label. All paid and above board.'
He had kept it quiet on the assumption that he
might be raking up a past she was keen to
disown. He had kept it so quiet that their fellow
passengers heard either 'Raindrops keep fallin' on
my head' over the Muzak, or the grumbling of an
elderly Greek who thought he was boxed in.
'Why of course,' she said, and gave a bright, air-
hostess smile. 'Jerry!' Her voice faded as she
pretended to have it on the tip of her tongue.
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PART TWO
'Jerry - er -' She frowned and looked upward like
a repertory actress doing Forgetfulness. The lift
stopped at the sixth floor.
'Westerby,' he said promptly, getting her off the
hook. 'Newshound. You put the bite on me in the
Constellation bar. I wanted a spot of loving
comfort and all I got was a keg of whisky.'
Somebody next to him laughed.
'Of course! Jerry darling! How could I possibly...
So I mean what are you doing in Hong Kong?
My God!'
'Usual beat. Fire and pestilence, famine. How
about you? Retired I should think, with your sales
methods. Never had my arm twisted so
thoroughly in my life.'
She laughed delightedly. The doors had opened at
the third floor. An old woman shuffled in on two
walking sticks.
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摘要:

PARTTWOPARTTWO-SHAKINGTHETREEChapter13-LieseStarHeightswasthenewestandtallestblockintheMidlevels,builtontheround,andbynightjammedlikeahugelightedpencilintothesoftdarknessofthePeak.Awindingcausewayledtoit,buttheonlypavementwasalineofkerbstonesixincheswidebetweenthecausewayandthecliff.AtStarHeights,pe...

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