TheMatareseCircle - (EPUB全文下载)

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Matarese Circle
Matarese Circle
Matarese Circle
Matarese Circle
PART I
We three Kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar..
The band of carolers huddled at the comer, stamping their feet and swinging their arms, their young voices penetrating the cold night air between the harsh sounds of automobile horns and police whistles and the metallic strains of Christmas music blaring from storefront speakers. The snowfall was dense, snarling traffic, causing the hordes of last-minute shoppers to shield their eyes. Nevertheless, they managed to sidestep each other, as well as the lurching automobiles, and the mounds of slush. Tires spun on the wet streets; buses inched in maddening starts and stops, and the bells of uniformed Santas kept up their incessant if futile clanging.
Field and fountain, Moor and mow-an-ten....
A dark Cadillac sedan turned the comer and crept past the carolers. The lead singer, dressed in a costume that was somebody's idea of Dickens' Bob Cratchit, approached the right rear window, his gloved hand outstretched, his face contorted in song next to the glass.
Following ya-hon-der star...
'Me angry driver blew his hom and waved the begging caroler away, but the middle-aged passenger in the back seat reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out several bills. He pressed a button; the rear window glided down and the gray-haired man thrust the money into the outstretched hand.
“God bless you, sir,” shouted the caroler. “The Boys Club of East Fiftieth Street thanks you. Merry Christmas, sir!” The words would have been more effective had there not been a stench of whisky emanating from the mouth that yelled them.
“Merry Christmas,” said the passenger, pressing the window button to shut off further communication.
There was a momentary break in the traffic. The Cadillac shot forward only to be forced to an abrupt, sliding stop thirty feet down the street. The driver gripped the steering wheel; it was a gesture that took the place of cursing out loud.
“Take it easy, Major,” said the gray-haired passenger, his tone of voice at once sympathetic and commanding. “Getting upset won't solve anything; it won't get us where we're going any faster.” “You're right, General,” answered the driver with a respect be did not feel. Normally, the respect was there, but not tonight, not on this particular trip. The general's self-indulgence aside, he had one hell of a nerve requesting his aide to be available for duty on Christmas Eve. For driving a rented, ............

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