ericlustbader.the ninja-第24节

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　She　looked　around　mutely。
　Her　father　reached　up　and　pulled　a　cord。　In　just　a　moment；　the　manservant　appeared。
　'Yes；　sir？'
　'Clifford；'　her　father　said。　'See　that　she　is　kept　occupied　until　Mrs　Tomkin　returns；　will　you？　I　can't　have　any　more　interruptions。　Doesn't　Gelda　have　some　friends　here？'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　'Well；　that's　the　place　for　her　then；　eh？'
　'Very　good；　sir。'　He　turned。　'e　along；　Miss　Justine　…'
　But　she　had　already　turned；　running　down　the；　long；　high　hallway；　slamming　out　through　the　front　door。　She　could　hear　Clifford　clattering　away　behind　her。　She　liked　Clifford。　She　spent　a　lot　of　her　time　with　him；　just　talking。　But　right　now　she　did　not　feel　like　being　with　anyone。
　She　sped　around　the　side　of　the　house；　headed　for　the　stables；　and　was　quite　out　of　breath　by　the　time　she　got　there。
　They　had　six　horses。　Arabians。　Her　favourite　was　King　Said。　He　was　her　horse；　to　all　intents　and　purposes。　But　of　course　the　children；　though　already　good　riders；　were　not　allowed　on　horseback　or　even　in　the　stables　without　an　adult　to　supervise。　Justine　did　not　really　care　about　that　now。　She　went　down　the　straw…strewn　centre　aisle　until　she　came　to　King　Said's　stall。　She　called　to　him　and　apparently　he　heard；　for　there　came
　to　her　his　slight　snorting　and　stamping；　he　was　eager　for　a　canter。　He　poked　his　head　out；　it　bobbed　up　and　down。　His　powerful　neck　thrust　far　above　her；　his　coat　shone。　She　wished　that　she　could　reach　up　and　stroke　him　but　she　was　far　too　short。
　That's　when　she　thought　about　opening　the　stall　door。　She　was　just　lifting　the　iron　latch　when　Clifford　caught　up　with　her。
　'Oh；　Miss　Justine；　you　must　never；　never　do　that　…'
　But　she　had　already　whirled　into　his　arms；　clinging　to　him；　crying　inconsolably。
　The　return　to　New　York　had*　presaged　a　low　point　in　her　life。　Filled　with　an　anxiety　she　could　not　control；　she　turned　in　desperation　to　a　psychiatrist。　At　first　it　appeared　to　be　no　help　at　all。　But　that　was　an　unfair　assessment。　It　was；　after　all；　a　highly　subjective　one　and　she　was　perhaps　so　low　that　she　could　then　perceive　no　change；　however　minute。　It　was　like　lying　sleepless　in　her　bed；　staring　out　of　the　window　at　the　east；　night　still　clinging　tenaciously；　looking　at　her　watch；　knowing　dawn　was　not　far　off　but　seeing　no　band　of　light。　Not　yet。
　It　was；　in　retrospect；　really　a　time　of　retrenchment。　She　had　no　job；　could　not　face　that；　but　she　began　to　sketch；　returning　to　the　craft　she　had　once　loved。　Slowly　she　built　up　a　current　portfolio　and　at　length　she　was　ready　to　go　out。
　It　was　not　nearly　so　bad　as　she　had　imagined　…　she　had　not　slept　for　two　nights　before　the　interviews；　terrified　…　and　she　had　got　a　job　at　the　second　agency　she　went　to。　But　doing　a　job　that　she　liked；　she　soon　found；　was　not　nearly　enough　（did　she　know；　then；　that　she　was　well　again？）。　Of　course　she　knew　why。　But　the　thought　of　being　involved　again　was　intolerable　to　her。
　Thus　is　was　that　she　discovered　dance。　She　went　to　a　class　one　night　with　a　friend　from　the　office　and　fell　instantly　in　love。　Now　she　channelled　her　excess　energy　into　her　body；　adoring　the　concept　of　controlled　rhythm；　the　duality　of　tension　and　relaxedness　that　dance　afforded　her。
　Yet　it　was　not　only　the　dance　but　also　its　prelude　which　fascinated　her。　Her　instructor　believed　in　the　discipline　of　t'ai
　chi　as　a　warm…up　exercise。　With　this　fundamental　core　assimilated；　Justine　found　to　her　delight　that　she　could　move　into　virtually　any　area　of　dance　she　chose；　from　modern　to　ballet。
　She　had　been　at　it　for　just　over　a　year　when　her　instructor　said　to　her；　'You　know；　Justine；　if　you　had　begun　the　dance　when　you　were　a　child；　you'd　be　a　great　dancer　today。　I　say　this　to　you　only　to　give　you　an　accurate　idea　of　where　you　stand　now。　You　are　one　of　my　best　pupils　because　not　only　is　your　body　responsive　but　your　spirit　is　within　the　dance。　The　greatness　is　there；　Justine；　but　one　unfortunately　cannot　overe　the　advance　of　time。'
　She　was　filled　with　pride　and　happiness。　But　just　as　importantly；　she　knew　why。　For　the　first　time　in　her　life　she　felt　that　she　had　control　of　herself　as　a　person；　she　no　longer　felt　tossed　to　and　fro　by　the　whims　of　the　world。　Here；　at　last；　was　a　control　that　she　could　feel　directly；　that　had　real　meaning　for　her。
　Within　the　month　she　had　left　her　full…time　job　at　the　agency　and　had　gone　into　business　for　herself。　The　agency　still　wanted　her　and　she　acmodated　it。　But　she　was　free　now　to　pick　and　choose　the　jobs　she　wanted。　She　found　that　within　six　months　of　setting　up　shop　she　was　pulling　down　three　times　her　old　salary　in　independent　billings。
　And　then　she　had　decided　on　this　house　in　West　Bay　Bridge。
　And　had　met　Nicholas。
　7　can't　do　it。　I　can't。
　She　stood　up　and　reeled　drunkenly　out　of　the　bathroom；　down　the　hallway；　using　her　hands；　palms　outstretched　like　a　blind　person；　to　guide　herself　through　the　house。　In　the　living…room　she　bumped　into　the　bubbling　fish　tank。　All　the　bright　denizens　of　the　deep　swam　there；　tranquil　as　if　anaesthetized　…　blind；　deaf　and　dumb　…　as　beautiful　and　as　unthinking　as　the　vegetation　reaching　towards　the　winking　surface。　She　felt　another　wave　of　nausea　hit　her　and　she　turned　away；　heading　for　the　front　door。
　I　can't　mat（e…the　mitment。　I　can't　trust　him。　Oh；　my　God！　Oh；　my　God！
　She　stumbled　out　into　the　rain；　tripping　down　the　wooden
　steps；　falling　to　her　knees　in　the　wet　sand。　It　felt　like　dough；　clinging　to　her　jealously。
　She　crawled　a　few　feet；　then；　regaining　her　balance；　ran　all　the　way　home。
　Not　long　afterwards；　Nicholas　returned　from　the　beach　area　where　they　had　found　the　second　body。　This　time　they　had　waited　for　him。
　It　was　one　cut。　Do　you　understand？　Vincent　had　said　over　the　phone。　He　did　indeed　understand　what　that　meant。　The　cut　of　a　katana。
　The　white…skinned　corpse　was^slit　from　the　right　shoulder；　obliquely　down　to　just　above　the　left　hip。　One　swing；　one　cut　from　the　finest　blade　ever　known　to　man。　It　could　easily　slash　through　armour；　flesh　and　bone　were　as　paper　to　a　katana　wielded　by　a　master　swordsman。　Ancient　blades　had　been　preserved　for　a　thousand　years　by　succeeding　generations　of　warriors；　losing　not　a　bit　of　their　original　sharpness　or　effectiveness；　and　even　today　no　arsenal　in　the　world　could　claim　such　a　magnificent　weapon　as　the　Japanese　katana。
　This　was　how　the　second　man　had　died。　He　lay；　as　he　had　been　found；　cradled　by　the　soft　surf　and　sand。　He　had　not　been　in　the　water　very　long。　There　was　absolutely　no　question　of　his　being　drowned。
　But　now　they　had　to　revise　their　conclusions　radically。　Barry　Braughm　had　obviously　not　been　the　ninja's　only　target。　But　there　seemed；　on　the　surface；　nothing　to　connect　the　two　victims。　This　man　was　a　worker　for　Lilco　…　the　Long　Island　power　pany　…　blue…collar；　lower…middle…class　background。　Nothing　in　mon；　nothing　at　all。
　Yet　the　ninja　was　abroad；　still　killing。
　Inside；　Nicholas　threw　off　the　lightweight　khaki　slicker。　His　sneakers　and　his　jeans　up　to　the　knees　were　soaked。　But　this　was　of　only　peripheral　interest　to　him。　He　was　thinking　of　Justine　and　the　thing　that　had　crashed　through　her　kitchen　window　in　the　night。　He　did　not　dare　to　think　of　what　it　might　be。　Besides；　it　made　no　sense。　Still；　he　had　asked　her　to　stay　inside　his　house　and　not　return　home。
　She　was　not　there。
　He　cursed　softly　and；　returning　through　　the　living…room；
　scooped　up　his　slicker　and　headed　out　of　the　door。
　No　one　answered　his　knock　but；　ing　down　the　beach；　he　had　seen　the　lights　burning　at　the　back　of　the　house　through　　the　bedroom　windows。
　He　knocked　again　and；　fearful　now；　tried　the　door…knob。　It　gave　and　he　twisted　it；　went　through　into　the　house。
　He　stopped　still　as　a　statue　just　over　the　direshold；　listening　and　watching　the　shadows。　Someone　was　home；　there　was　no　intruder。　These　things　　he　ascertained　immediately　and　simultaneously；　his　training　needed　no　conscious　cueing。
　He　called　her　name：　'Justine。'
　It　was　not　just　the　one　cut　that　worried　him。　Both　Doc　Deerfordi　and　Vincent　had　missed　the　other　thing。　At　least；　they　had　not　recognized　it　for　what　it　was。　In　leaning　over　the　body；　he　had　chanced　to　see　the　top　of　the　left　shoulder。　The　bruise　had　just　begun　to　darken。　He　touched　it。　Below　the　flesh　the　clavicle　was　fractured。　Instantly；　he　was　on　guard；　he　had　not　wanted　to　alarm　the　others；　even　Vincent。　If　what　he　believed　now　was；　in　fact；　the　case　。。。
　There　had　been　a　man。　Miyamoto　Musashi。　Perhaps　Japan's　greatest　warrior。　Among　other　things　；　he　founded　the　Niten　or　Two　Heavens　school　…　or　ryu　…　of　kenjutsu。　It　taught　the　art　of　wielding　two　swords　at　once。　Another　aspect　of　Musashi；　known　as　Kensei；　the　Sword　Saint；　was　that　he　used　botyen　…　wooden　swords　…　in　actual　bat　…　claiming　that　he　did　so　because　they　were　invincible。
　What　all　this　musing　was　leading　up　to　was　this：　the　man　had　been　struck　two　blows；　not　one　as　Vincent　believed。　One　had　been　the　cut　of　the　steel　katana；　ripping　him　open；　the　second　had　simultaneously　crushed　his　collarbone；　this　had　e　from　a　bol（kfn。
　'Justine；　it's　Nick。〃　There　was　some　movement　now　from　the　back　of　the　house。
　He　was　beginning　to　feel　as　if；　having　once　been　surrounded　by　confett