The Tightrope Men / The Enemy. Desmond Bagley
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Название: The Tightrope Men / The Enemy
Автор: Desmond Bagley
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9780007347698
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‘Why?’
‘I’m not saying another bloody word until I hear it,’ said Denison stubbornly.
A pause. ‘All right; here’s a re-run.’
The gun vanished and there was a click.
‘Now tell me; what’s your father doing here in Finland?’
‘He’s on holiday.’
Denison strained his ears as he listened to the conversation and evaluated the voices. He raised his hands and slowly parted them so that the link of the handcuffs tightened.
‘He wanted to find out something about his father – my grandfather.’
‘What did he want to find out?’ A pause. ‘Come now, Miss Meyrick; nothing will happen, either to you or to your father, if you ans …’
Denison lunged, moving fast. He had moved his legs under the bed, so that when he moved he was on the balls of his feet and utilizing the maximum thrust of his thighs. His hands were as wide apart as he could spread them and he rammed them forward as though to grab the man by the ears. The link between the handcuffs caught the man right across the larynx.
Both tape recorder and flashlight dropped to the floor; the flashlight rolled, sending grotesque shadows about the room, and the recorder babbled. Denison kept up his pressure on the man’s throat and was aware of cloth as he pressed his hands to his opponent’s face. In the shifting light he saw the glint of metal as the man raised the pistol from his pocket and he twisted his hand frantically and managed to grab the wrist as it came up.
With his left hand holding firmly on to his opponent’s right wrist he thrust firmly so that the steel link cut into the man’s throat. The gun was thus held close to the man’s right ear, and when it went off with a blinding flare and a deafening explosion the man reeled away and dropped it.
Denison dived for it and came up again quickly. The door banged closed and the recorder chattered insanely. He made for the door and opened it, to find himself in a narrow corridor with another door at the end. As he ran for it he heard Diana Hansen say, from behind him, ‘ Lyn, if you take this attitude it will be the worse for you.’
He heard the words but they made little sense and he had no time to evaluate them. He burst through the door and found himself in the brightly lit hotel corridor. There was no one to be seen, so he ran to the corner where the corridor turned and came to the lifts, and skidded to a halt in front of an astonished couple in evening dress. One lift was going down.
He made for the stairs, hearing a startled scream from behind him, and ran down two flights of stairs, causing quite a commotion as he emerged into the lobby yelling for the police and wearing nothing but a pair of handcuffs and an automatic pistol.
‘Incredible!’ said Carey. His voice was dead as though he, himself, did not believe what he was saying, and the single word made no echo in the quiet room.
‘That’s what happened,’ said Denison simply.
McCready stirred. ‘It would seem that more than water was thrown on to the hot stones in the sauna.’
‘Yes,’ said Carey. ‘I have heard that some Finns, in an experimental mood, have used koskenkorva as Iöylyä.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Denison.
‘A sort of Finnish vodka.’ Carey put down his dead pipe. ‘I dare say some smart chemist could come up with a vaporizing knock-out mixture. I accept that.’ He frowned and shook his head. ‘Could you repeat what you told this fellow about your bloody decoder?’
‘It’s engraved on my memory,’ said Denison bitterly. ‘I said, “It’s a stochastic process – a development of the Monte Carlo method. The Russian output is repeatedly sampled and put through a series of transformations at random. Each transformation is compared with a store held in a computer memory – if a match is made a tree branching takes place leading to a further set of transformations. There are a lot of dead ends and it needs a big, fast computer – very powerful.”’
‘It would,’ said Carey drily.
‘I don’t even know what stochastic means,’ said Denison helplessly.
Carey took a smoker’s compendium from his pocket and began to clean his pipe, making a dry scraping sound. ‘I know what it means. A stochastic process has an element of probability in it. The Monte Carlo method was first devised as a means of predicting the rate of diffusion of uranium hexafluoride through a porous barrier – it’s been put to other uses since.’
‘But I don’t know anything about that,’ expostulated Denison.
‘Apparently you do,’ said Carey. ‘If you thought you were talking gobbledegook you were wrong. It would make sense to a mathematician or a computer man. And you were right about something else; you’d need a bloody powerful computer to handle it – the transformations would run into millions for even a short message. In fact, I don’t think there is that kind of a computer, unless the programming method is equally powerful.’
Denison developed the shakes. ‘Was I a mathematician? Did I work on computers?’ he whispered.
‘No,’ said Carey levelly. ‘What did you think you were doing when you reeled off all that stuff?’
‘I was spinning a yarn – I couldn’t tell him why we were really here.’
McCready leaned forward. ‘What did you feel like when you were spouting like that?’
‘I was scared to death,’ confessed Denison.
‘Of the man?’
There was violence in Denison’s headshake. ‘Not of the man – of myself. What was in me.’ His hands began to quiver again.
Carey caught McCready’s eye and shook his head slightly; that line of questioning was too dangerous for Denison. He said, ‘We’ll leave that for a moment and move on. You say this chap accepted you as Meyrick?’
‘He didn’t question it.’
‘What made you go for him? That was a brave thing to do when he had a gun.’
‘He wasn’t holding the gun,’ said Denison. ‘He was holding the recorder. I suddenly tumbled to it that the recording was a fake. The threatening bit at the end had a different quality – a dead sound. All the other stuff was just ordinary conversation and could have happened quite naturally. It followed that this chap couldn’t have Lyn, and that left me free to act.’
‘Quite logical,’ said Carey. ‘And quite right.’ There was a bemused look on his face as he muttered to himself, ‘Competent!’
McCready said, ‘Lyn was in the hotel lounge yesterday СКАЧАТЬ