thedestroyer.deathcheck-第13节

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　〃I'll　have　to　ask　you　a　lot　of　questions；〃　Boyle　said。
　〃Is　there　any　reason　I　should　answer　them？〃
　If　he　had　heard；　Boyle　ignored　him。　〃I'll　need　to　know　where　you　were　born　and　where　you　were　brought　up。　Your　native　stock。　All　the　usual　dates　and　anniversaries。　When　you　went　to　prison。〃
　The　alarm　light　flashed　in　Remo's　mind。　Prison？　What　did　Boyle　know。。。　what　could　he　know。。。　about　Remo's　past？　He　forced　himself　into　calmness。　〃Prison？〃　he　asked　casually。　〃What　made　you　think　I'd　been　in　prison？〃
　〃It's　been　my　experience；〃　Boyle　said；　his　cool　blue　eyes　looking　guilelessly　into　Remo's　hard　face；　〃that　people　who　are　so　quick　tempered　and　so　efficiently　violent　usually　have　seen　the　inside　of　a　cage。　At　least　in　this　country。　In　mine；　we　make　them　prime　ministers。〃
　〃Well；　that's　one　against　you；〃　Remo　answered。　〃Never　been　in　prison。　At　least；　not　in　this　life。〃　Which　was　technically　true。
　Boyle　made　a　note　on　a　yellow　pad　with　a　stub　of　a　pencil　held　in　his　big　pink　bricklayer's　hands。　He　looked　up　again。　〃Shall　we　go　on？〃
　〃Can　you　give　me　a　reason　why　we　should？〃
　
　Boyle　walked　to　a　small　refrigerator　in　a　corner　of　his　office。　Remo　declined　a　drink　and　Boyle　poured　himself　a　water　tumbler　full　of　Irish　whisky。　Alcohol　abstinence　was　not　one　of　his　vows。
　〃Sure。　It'll　keep　me　on　the　job　here　and　of　the　parish　bingo　circuit　for　another　year。〃
　〃Fair　enough。〃
　By　the　time　the　tumbler　of　whisky　was　drained；　Remo　had　learned　that　bio…cycle　analysis　was　the　study　of　rhythms　in　men's　lives。　Boyle　contended　that　there　were　unconscious　rhythms　that　determined　behavior。
　〃If　we　can　isolate　those　individual　rhythms；　we　can　understand　behavior。　Maybe　even　predict　or　control　it。〃
　Boyle　showed　Remo　a　bar　chart。　〃See　this　line？〃　he　asked　pointing　to　a　vertical　bar。　〃Accidents　per　10；000　driving　hours　in　a　Tokyo　cab　pany。〃
　〃Now　this　line；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　a　shorter　bar。　〃Accidents　per　10；000　hours　six　months　later。　Why　the　difference？〃
　〃They　probably　hired　German　hackies。　You　ever　see　Japs　drive？〃
　An　honest　laugh　fractured　Boyle's　tomatoed　face。　〃No。　Same　drivers。　But　the　pany　analyzed　their　body　cycles　and　notified　them　to　be　careful　on　days　that　we　call　'critical。'　Just　that；　and　the　accident　rate's　cut　in　half。　Follow　me？〃
　〃Maybe。　What　kind　of　cycles　are　there？　Do　they　really　control　people？　Do　you　really　believe　in　this　horseshit？〃
　Boyle　went　on　to　explain　that　after　a　half…century　of　study；　scientists　had　isolated　three　cycles：　a　23…day　emotional　cycle；　a　28…day　physical　rhythm　and　a　33…day　intellectual　cycle。　But　now；　with　puters；　science　could　absorb　vast　amounts　of　data　on　enormous　numbers　of　people。　〃If　we　feed　enough　facts　into　the　machinery；　we　may　be　able　to　detect　totally　new　cycles　and　rhythms。　Rhythms　of　love。　Or　hate。〃
　〃Why'd　you　want　to　talk　to　me？〃
　〃Our　basic　study　around　here　is　violence。　You're　the　first　violent　man　we've　had　here　in　years。　A　rarity。　Someone　who　doesn't　intellectualize　everything　to　death。〃
　〃Did　you　study　McCarthy？　The　man　I　replaced？〃
　〃Yes；　I　did。　You　know　he　was　murdered；　don't　you。〃
　Boyle　was　the　second　man　to　tell　Remo　that　McCarthy　had　been　murdered。　He　looked　blankly　at　the　priest。　〃No；　I　didn't　know。　I　thought　he　mitted　suicide。〃
　〃Horseshit；　to　borrow　your　word。　On　the　day　he　was　killed；　McCarthy　was　experiencing　a　very　rare　phenomenon。　His　emotional；　physical　and　intellectual　cycles　all　happened　to　coincide　at　a　peak。　It　should　have　been　the　brightest　day　of　his　life。　Men　don't　mit　suicide　on　days　like　that。〃
　；　〃Who'd　want　to　kill　him？〃　Remo　asked；　watching　Boyle's　face　carefully。　〃As　far　as　I　could　find　out；　he　wasn't　mixed　up　in　anything。　Not　like　blackmail。。。　or　a　porno　ring。〃
　Boyle　showed　no　reaction　at　all。　〃Damned　if　I　know　who　did　him　in。　But　I　hope　you　find　out　who　it　was。　McCarthy　was　a　decent　sort。〃
　Boyle　began　to　ask　Remo　a　string　of　long；　generally　harmless　questions　about　his　life。　Remo　stuck　to　the　fake　biography　of　the　fake　Remo　Pelham。　Whenever　Boyle　got　close　to　Remo's　true　past；　to　CURE；　to　his　mission；　Remo　lied。　It　took　over　an　hour。
　Remo　found　he　was　in　the　fourth　day　of　his　emotional　cycle；　18th　day　of　his　intellectual　cycle　and　15th　day　of　his　physical　cycle。　〃That　explains　yesterday；〃　Boyle　said。　〃It　was　a　day　of　physical　crisis　for　you。　Mid…cycle。　You　were　passing　from　an　up　period　to　a　down　and　were　edgy。
　
　If　the　whole　thing　had　happened　tomorrow；　you　would　have　turned　your　back　and　walked　away。　Unfortunate　for　those　poor　hooligans。〃
　〃For　them？　I　might　have　been　hurt。〃
　〃I　rather　doubt　it；〃　Boyle　said。
　Walking　out　into　the　courtyard　from…　Boyle's　cottage　office；　Remo　was　puzzled。　So　they　were　studying　violence　at　the　Forum。　Big　deal。　Maybe　Brewster's　little　plan　to　conquer　the　world　involved　talking　your　enemy　to　death。　They　sure　as　hell　weren't　going　to　figure　out　everybody's　cycle　and　only　fight　when　the　rhythms　were　on　our　side。
　And　the　pornographic　pictures。　That　was　another　riddle。　Boyle's　blue　eyes　hadn't　wavered　when　Remo　mentioned　blackmail　or　dirty　photos。　Remo　was　convinced　Boyle　knew　nothing　about　the　pictures。　Yet　he　had　obviously　posed　for　them。　Really　posed；　because　the　pictures　were　professionally　lighted　and　shot　from　a　number　of　different　angles。　And　now　he　knew　nothing　about　it。
　If　the　word　came；　Boyle　would　have　to　be　killed　one…on…one。　By　hand。　He　had　no　repetitious　habits；　few　hobbies；　rarely　left　his　cottage。　It　would　have　to　be　an　accident　in　the　house。　Something　with　an　electric　cord　perhaps。　If　the　word　came。　Remo　hoped　it　wouldn't。
　
　CHAPTER　TWELVE
　
　When　Remo　was　a　boy；　he　had　a　fantasy　of　growing　up　to　bee　the　great　white　hunter。　Whatever　was　left　of　the　fantasy　vanished　when　the　rhinoceros　charged　and　crushed　the　chained　jackal　under　his　3；000　pounds　of　weight。　The　jackal　left　hardly　a　smear。
　Remo　continued　to　watch　the　film　in　fascination　as　the　camera　lens　was　changed　and　the　rhino　receded　in　the　distance。　Then；　stepping　into　the　film　came　Dr。　Abram　Schulter；　his　long；　sparse　black　hair　stringing　down　from　a　pith　helmet。　He　carried　a　small　black　box；　but　it　looked　large　in　his　birdlike　hands。
　He　began　to　walk　toward　the　rhino；　shouting　as　he　went。　Occasionally　he　stopped　and　waved　his　helmet　to　try　to　attract　the　near…sighted　beast's　attention。　When　he　was　no　more　than　thirty　yards　away；　he　stopped　and　began　yelling　again。
　Finally；　the　rhinoceros　charged。　His　hooves　made　the　ground　beneath　the　camera　vibrate　as　he　thundered　from　the　right　side　of　the　screen　toward　the　puny　figure　of　Schulter　standing　defenseless　on　the　left　side　of　the　screen。　Schulter　looked　up；　seemed　to　watch　the　rhino　for　a　split　second；　then　flicked　a　switch　on　top　of　the　box。　The　rhino　stopped　as　if　he'd　run　into　an　invisible　wall。
　He　stopped　dead　and　stood　there；　ten　yards　away　from　Schulter。　Not　moving。　The　film　faded；　the　next　frames　showed　the　rhino　lying　down　eating　grass　and　Schulter　sitting　on　its　back。　The　beast　couldn't　have　cared　less。
　Remo　was　impressed；　but　he　couldn't　resist　a　grin　and　the　thought；　this　screwball　will　mount　anything；　toy　giraffes；　rhinoceroses；　anything。　Mothers　in　the　neighborhood　should　lock　up　their　rubber　duckies。
　The　lights　came　on。　Wearing　a　doctor's　gown；　Abram　Schulter；　M。D。；　Ph。　D。；　Fellow　of；　Diplomate　of；　pioneer　of　this　and　that　and　everything　else；　came　paddling　toward　Remo　on　ripple…soled　shoes　and　began　lifting　the　blinds　to　let　sunlight　into　the　darkened　office。
　〃And　so　that's　what　we　do；〃　he　said；　as　if　the　film　explained　everything。
　〃You　mean；　you're　a　rhinoceros　trainer？〃
　〃A　rhinoceros　trainer？　No；　why　should　I　be？　Oh　yes；　I　see。　A　little　joke。　Yes；　yes。　Very　good。　Very　good　indeed。〃
　He　went　on：　〃No；　no。　Electronic　brain　stimulation。　The　box　in　my　hand　was　a　radio。　It　sent　a　signal　that　stimulated　alpha　waves　in　the　brain　of　the　rhino。　Such　a　brain　as　it　has；　that　is。　Alpha　rhythms　bring　inner　peace。　Don't　suppose　you'd　be　interested？〃
　Schulter　walked　from　the　window　and　sat　down　on　the　other　side　of　the　coffee　table　facing　Remo。　He　took。　a　cigarette　from　a　wooden　box　on　the　table　and　lit　it。　His　hands　were　deeply　nicotine　stained；　and　like　all　pulsive　smokers；　he　didn't　offer　Remo　one。
　Remo　leaned　forward　and　took　one　anyway；　even　though　it　was　a　violation　of　his　rules　at　peak。　He　lit　it　with　a　lighter　on　the　table；　and　then　put　the　lighter　and　the　box　back　on　Schulter's　side　of　the　table。　He　inhaled　deeply；　careful　not　to　let　the　smoke　change　his　breathing　rhythm；　exhaled　for　exactly　two　beats；　and　then　looked　at　Schulter。
　〃I'm　no　rhinoceros。　I'm　not　even　a　toy　giraffe。　What　do　you　want　with　me？〃
　〃Well；　you　know。　I　saw　you　in　the　yard　with　those　silly…looking　putzes。　I　mean。　Such　violence。　I　thought　you　might　like　to　find　inner　peace。　Would　you？〃
　〃Could　I？〃
　〃Certainly。　All　I　would　need　to　do　is　plant　electrodes　inside　your…skull。　Very　simple　really。〃
　〃Has　anyone　ever　offered　to　plant　his　foot　up　your　ass？〃
　Schulter　sighed。　〃Very　mon　response。　Not　unusual　at　all。〃　He　puffed　rapidly　on　his　cigarette；　then　leaned　forward；　picked　up　the　cigarette　box；　turned　it　in　his　hand　as　if　examining　it　and　then　replaced　it　precisely　in　the　center　of　the　table。　He　did　the