Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Clues in Disguise

The man walked into the bathroom on the second floor, looked at himself in the mirror, and carefully removed the glued beard and gray hair.With the disguise off, he looked at least twenty years younger. Andrew came to the newspaper office and fetched his letters from the mailroom.As soon as he entered the office, he saw Freddie Olsen lying under the desk, as if looking for something. "Olsen, do you think of yourself as a dog?" Andrew said while opening a letter. "Have you seen my press card, Steelman? Don't keep saying mean things." "I didn't even know you had a press card. Do you want me to buy you some dog food?"

"Stillman, you're really annoying me. I've been looking for it for two days." "You've been lying under the table for two days? Why don't you look elsewhere?" Andrew picked up the rest of the letters, including two advertising leaflets, and one from a self-proclaimed prophet, claiming to prove to him that the end of the world does exist.Andrew threw them into the shredder without any hassle. "Olsen, if you can get up, I have a scoop for you." Olsen jerked his head up, but bumped it against the table. "What scoop?" "Some idiot just hit his head. Have a nice day, Olsen."

Andrew whistled and entered the elevator, and Olivia also walked in behind him. "Why are you in such a good mood today, Steelman?" Olivia asked. "You won't understand." "Are you going to the reference room?" "No, I just want to check the model number of our heating boiler, so I'm going to go down to the basement." "Steelman, I've been deeply guilty of what happened to you before, but please don't push me too far. What are you investigating now?" "Who told you I've started an investigation?" "Looks like you haven't been drinking lately, which is a good thing. Listen, Steelman, you must stop by my office today and describe in detail what you're investigating. Otherwise I'll assign you a task , you must complete it by a certain date."

"According to reliable sources, the end of the world exists." Andrew said seriously. Olivia looked at Andrew with murderous eyes, and suddenly she laughed. "you really……" "It's hopeless, Olivia, I know this myself. Give me eight days, and I promise to give you an explanation." "Then see you in eight days, Andrew." After Olivia got out of the elevator, Andrew waited until she was far away before sneaking into Dorothy's office. "Did you find anything?" He asked impatiently after closing the door. "There's one thing that strikes me as weird about this princess you're trying to protect. I can't find any information about her. She seems to erase her footprints with every step she takes. She's a person with no past. "

"I wonder who can do this?" "No matter who it is, her energy must be beyond our imagination. I have collected information for 20 years, and this is the first time I have encountered such a situation. I even called the Fort Kent branch of the University of Maine, but still Could not find any relevant information." "Is there any information about Senator Walker?" "I prepared a document for you. I didn't know about this before, but if you look at the newspapers at the time, you will understand that this incident definitely shocked the whole country. But the shock only lasted for a few days , Since then, no media has mentioned this matter. Someone must have intervened behind it, and Washington should have put pressure on it, so everyone will collectively remain silent."

"It was a different time than now. There was no Internet. Dorothy, can you give me that file?" "It's right in front of you, just take it away." Andrew immediately grabbed the materials and began to browse. "You immediately forgot my existence when you saw the materials. You are really ungrateful." Dorothy sighed. Andrew just smiled at her and left the newspaper office. Back at the apartment, he went into the kitchen, trying to move the refrigerator, wondering how Susie had managed it all by herself.There was finally enough gap between the refrigerator and the wall, and Andrew reached in and found a bag.

There was a very old letter in the bag, and he opened it carefully: Andrew returned to the living room and began to study the materials that Dorothy had compiled for him. There are some newspaper clippings in the materials, all of which were printed and distributed in mid-January 1966. "Senator Walker's Wife Suspected of Treason," was the headline in the Washington Post. "The Walker Family's Shocking Scandal," headlined the Los Angeles Times. "Daily News" used the term "female traitor". The "New York Post" is even more exaggerated, directly saying "the female spy who betrayed her husband and the country".

The event was covered in the headlines of more than thirty national dailies, albeit in slightly different ways.All of the articles mentioned that Lillian Walker, the wife of Democratic Senator Edward Walker and the mother of a nineteen-year-old girl, was secretly spying for the KGB. The "Chicago Tribune" also mentioned that investigators found some suspicious documents in her room, and her evidence of collaborating with the enemy and treason was conclusive.She wrote down the important information mentioned by her husband every time he talked with others, and also stole the key of the safe, photographed many important materials in it, and handed them over to Party B, the communist camp. The "Dallas Post" even pointed out that if the FBI failed to discover her crimes early, many military bases in Vietnam and soldiers serving there would have been victims of her treasonous acts.Although someone tipped her off and she tried to escape, she was finally brought to justice.

In those days, the newspapers continued to dig up the details behind the treason, and speculation about its possible consequences gradually escalated. On January 18, Edward Walker officially resigned as a senator and announced his complete withdrawal from politics. On January 19, almost all newspapers in the country disclosed the inside story, saying that Lilian Walker had fled to the northern border of Sweden and was about to sneak into the Soviet Union via Norway, but was arrested in time.But after the 20th, as Dorothy had said, there was no longer any news of Lillian Walker in the papers.

Only the "New York Times" published an article signed by Ben Morton on January 21. At the end, the author wrote: "Who will benefit from Walker's resignation?" Andrew immediately thought of this man, and he remembered that Morton was a veteran in the news industry, with a very tough personality.Andrew had met him in the corridor of the newspaper before, but at that time Andrew was just a small worker in charge of publishing obituaries, not even a reporter, so he never had the opportunity to talk to Morton. Andrew called the newspaper's mail clerk and asked where he was forwarding Ben Morton's letters.Figuera told him that he hadn't done this for a long time, because the letters to Morton were just advertising leaflets, and Morton asked him to throw them away.But Andrew persisted and kept asking, and Figuera was forced to tell him that Morton now lives in seclusion in a small village in Tunbridge, Vermont, but he didn't have a detailed address, only a zip code.

Andrew looked at the map, it seemed that the city of Tunbridge could only be reached by car.But he hasn't driven his Datsun in ages, since an angry reader smashed it with a bat in an underground car park.It was an unpleasant memory, and Andrew then put it in Simon's garage and never drove it out.He didn't doubt that the car had been completely repaired, after all, it was his good friend's only specialty. He picked up the materials, prepared some thick clothes and a can of hot coffee, and went to Simon's garage. "Of course it's fixed," said Simon. "Where are you going?" "This time I want to go out alone to get some air." "You still haven't told me where you're going." Simon had a displeased look on his face. "To Vermont. Can I have the key?" "There's snow there, and if you drive the Datsun, it's going to be slippery, and it's even more dangerous at night. I'll lend you this Chevrolet 'Hot Wheels' car, six-cylinder engine, 110 horsepower. But it's recommended You'd better return it to me in good condition, we've collected a lot of original parts to restore it." "Of course I know, you definitely won't use other parts." "Are you mocking me?" "Simon, I'm leaving." "When are you coming back?" "Sometimes, I wonder if you are my mother's incarnation." "Your jokes aren't funny at all. Call me when you get there and tell me you're safe." Andrew agreed to come down and started the car.The seats smell of paint, but the resin steering wheel and control panels look reassuring. "I promise I'll love it like I love my car," Andrew vowed. "Then you still promise to cherish it like you cherish my car." Andrew left New York and headed north.The suburbs of New York were far behind him. Along the way, he saw many residential towers, industrial areas, warehouses and fuel depots.Then he passed through several smaller cities, where the roads were almost deserted when it got dark. Andrew could feel that the pace of life along the way gradually slowed down, and the buildings began to give way to the fields. Only the scattered lights in the farmhouse could prove that there were people living in it. The so-called Tunbridge City is actually just a small street dotted with a few dim street lamps. Under the light, you can vaguely see a grocery store, a hardware store, and a gas station, and only the gas station is still open. Door.Andrew parked the car next to the only gas pump, and the tires ran over a cable on the ground and creaked.An old man came out of the room upon hearing the sound.Andrew opened the car door and jumped out of the car. "Could you fill me up with gas, please?" Andrew said to him. "I haven't seen a car like this for many years," said the old man, who had already lost a lot of teeth, and the air was leaking when he spoke. "Has the car's carburetor been modified? We only have unleaded gasoline here." "It must have been modified. Does it matter?" "Of course it does. If you're going to keep going, you'd better get this out of the way now. Open your hood and I'll check." "Don't bother, this car has just been overhauled." "How many miles since the overhaul?" "About three hundred miles." "Then open it and let me have a look. After all, this old-fashioned car consumes a lot of gas, and I don't have much to do. The last customer came yesterday morning." "Then why are you still open for business at this hour?" Andrew watched him check the car, but he shivered from the cold with his arms around his shoulders. "See that chair behind the glass? I've sat on it for over forty years, and that's the only place I'd ever sit. This gas station was left by my father, who passed away in 1960, and I've been there ever since. My dad built this gas station, and when I was a kid, I watched him sell Gulf brand gasoline, but now they don't even have that brand. My bedroom is on the second floor of this building, and I I couldn't sleep, so I drove the gas station until I fell asleep. What else can I do? Maybe there will be an out-of-town guest like you at some point, and it would be a pity to miss it. You go where?" "This is my destination. Do you know a man named Ben Morton?" "I'd like to tell you that I don't know him, but unfortunately I do know this man." "Do you know where he lives?" "How's your day?" "Not bad, but why are you asking that?" "Since you are in a good mood today, go back quickly, or you will regret it." "I drove all the way from New York just to meet him." "Even if you're driving from Miami, I suggest you go back. Morton is an old bastard. It's best not to meet him face to face." "I've seen this kind of person a lot, it's nothing to be afraid of." "No, he's got to be the most annoying of them all," the man sighed, putting the gas valve back in place. "Well, it's eighty dollars, and a tip would be nice. .” Andrew gave him five twenty-dollar bills, and the old man counted the money and suddenly laughed. "A normal tip is only two dollars. You must have asked me for the old bastard's address when you gave me an extra eighteen dollars. My hands aren't too clean anyway, so I don't care about doing more dirty things. Come on, Come in with me, there's hot coffee inside." Andrew walked into the gas station. "What on earth are you looking for him for?" "What did he do to you again, you want to say that about him?" "Then tell me, who can get along with this man who is ruder than a bear? If you can tell, I will cheer you up for free in the future." "Is it really that serious?" "He lives like a mouse in his little hut every day. He has food and drink delivered to the intersection of the small road leading to his house, and he can't even approach his door. This gas station of mine is not far from his territory. There's a distance." The man's coffee smelled like licorice, but Andrew was so cold that he drank it without being picky. "Are you going to knock on his door tonight? It would be strange if he could open the door for you." "How far is the nearest motel from here?" "More than fifty miles, and it's definitely closed for the season. You can go down to the garage for a night, but there's no fireplace. Morton's cabin is south, and you've passed it before." It’s nearby. Tomorrow you go back along the same road, after passing Russell Street, you will see a small path on the right hand side, go straight in, he lives in the innermost part, you will definitely find it.” Andrew thanked the old man and planned to leave the gas station. "Your engine isn't in very good shape, you'd better drive it slowly. If you push too hard on the gas pedal, you might break the valve." The old-fashioned Chevrolet was back on the road, all the lights on, and it was slowly moving forward on the potholed road. Andrew saw the shed in the distance, with lights coming from both windows.He immediately turned off the engine and got out of the car, knocking on the wooden door. An old man came over and opened the door. Andrew stared at his facial features for a long time before he vaguely recognized that this was indeed his old colleague.And the other party has been looking at him. "Don't bother me, leave quickly." The old man said displeasedly with a full beard. "Mr. Morton, I drove a long way here just to see you." "Then drive back in the opposite direction, and the return journey won't feel so long." "I need to talk to you." "I don't want to talk to you, go away, I don't need anything." "Your article on the Walker incident." "What Walker incident?" "In 1966, there was a senator's wife who was charged with treason." "Looks like you have a news sensitivity to 'current events'. What happened to my article?" "I'm a reporter for The New York Times, just like you. We've run into each other a few times at the paper, but I've never had a chance to speak to you." "I've been retired for a long time, didn't anyone tell you? I think you should be someone who likes to do in-depth investigations." "Your name is no longer in the newspaper's address book, but I still found you." Ben Morton stared at Andrew for a long time before motioning for him to come in. "Go to the fire, your lips are purple. It's not like the city here." Andrew rubbed his hands in front of the fire while Morton opened a bottle of black wine and poured two glasses. "Here," he handed one of the cups to Andrew, "it's quicker than a fire to warm you up. Show me your press pass." "It seems that you believe my words." Andrew opened the wallet. "Only a fool would trust anyone. In our business, if you trust people easily, you're not a good reporter. You can cook for five minutes and leave immediately, understand?" "I've read hundreds of articles about the Walker incident, and you are the only one who has reservations about Lillian Walker's crimes. Even though you only asked a question at the end of the article, it can be seen that you have something to say about it. Suspect." "So what? It's all in the past." "Since January 20, all newspapers and magazines have collectively silenced this matter, except for your article, which was published on the 21st." "I was still young at the time, and I didn't know the heights of the sky and the earth." Morton laughed and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp. "So you still remember what happened at that time." "I'm old, but I'm not confused. Why are you suddenly interested in this old thing?" "I'm always skeptical of the so-called mainstream public opinion." "Me too," Morton replied, "that's what prompted me to write that article. It wasn't that simple at the time. We had instructions from above that all media outlets stop talking about Walker and his wife. You have to think about the situation at the time. Public opinion was not so free, and politicians could still set rules for us. I broke their bottom line." "How did you do it?" "A little trick we all know. The newspaper always tells people what they can write in the editorial meeting, and then everyone prepares it, sends it to review, and then prints it. But if you turn in the manuscript late, the reviewers will There will be no time to read your article, you can publish it as it is. Generally speaking, there is nothing wrong, but such a big event, it is certainly impossible to pass quietly. Those big people will not allow us to do this, which makes They felt that their dignity had been violated. Although there was no news of anyone putting pressure on the newspaper the next day, I still paid the price for it in the following months." "You don't think Walker's wife is guilty?" "It doesn't matter what I think. All I know is that none of my colleagues, including me, have ever seen the so-called ironclad evidence. What bothers me is that no one seems to care about that. McCarthyism is gone Twelve It's been a year, but in this case, we can still see its impact. Your five minutes is up, I don't have to show you where the door is, do I?" "I can't continue driving in my current state. Don't you have a guest room?" "I never take guests. There's a motel north of the village." "The man at the gas station told me that the hotel is more than fifty miles away, and that it's usually closed in the winter." "He is full of nonsense. He told you where I live?" "I'm not going to tell anyone where my information came from." Morton handed Andrew another glass of wine. "I can lend you the couch. But tomorrow morning, before I get up, you'd better get out of my house." "I have other questions for you about Lillian Walker." "I won't say anything more to you. I'm going to sleep." Ben Morton opened the door of the closet and threw a quilt to Andrew. "I won't tell you that I'll see you tomorrow, because you shouldn't be here when I wake up." He turned off the light and went up to the second floor, and then closed the bedroom door. Andrew sat alone on the first floor, only a faint firelight could illuminate him.He waited until Morton fell asleep before going to a desk by the window. He pulled out his chair and sat down.There is a photo of Morton on the table, he is probably only in his twenties, and the man next to him should be his father. "Don't rummage through my stuff, or I'll kick you out." Andrew smiled wryly and lay down on the sofa.He opened the quilt and fell asleep listening to the crackling of logs burning in the fireplace. Someone grabbed Andrew by the shoulder and shook him awake.Andrew opened his eyes, but saw Morton's face. "You have nightmares at your age! You never participated in the Vietnam War." Andrew sat up, the temperature in the room dropped a lot than before, but he was still covered in cold sweat. "Looks like I should do something for you," Morton went on. "You think I really don't know who you are? Figuera called me a long time ago to let me know you might be coming. If you want to be a Good reporter, let me teach you a few tricks. I'll add more wood to the fireplace, so you can sleep a little longer, and I don't want to be woken up by your screams in your dreams." "No, I'm leaving." "You're gone, who am I going to tell the rest?" Morton became angry, "You came from New York just to ask me these questions, and you're leaving now? When you go to the newspaper every morning , don't you see the words 'New York Times' at the entrance? Don't you feel a sense of mission?" "Of course I do, I feel that way every day!" "Then stay and be a qualified reporter! You have only two choices, either listen to me babbling and telling you everything until you can't bear it and choose to leave by yourself; or I am tired of your questions and use the ball Great kicks you out. But you just can't stop halfway and give up after a few questions! Now you can ask me about Lillian Walker." "Why do you doubt her crime?" "It seems to me that her crime is a little too serious. Of course, this is only my guess." "Why didn't you mention that in your article?" "Once the newspaper presses you to stop paying attention to a topic, you better not be too stubborn. In the 60s, we were still using typewriters, and it was impossible to use the Internet to let the outside world know what was going on immediately. .Regarding this incident, the higher-ups have issued a gag order. In fact, I don’t have any concrete evidence to support my opinion, and I was always taking a big risk. After dawn, you and I will go to the back I’ll go to my garage so I can see if there’s still material from that time. It’s not because my memory is fading, it’s just because it’s been so long.” "In your opinion, what material did Lillian Walker steal?" "That's the biggest mystery. No one knows what it is. The government says it's some material about where our military bases are deployed in Vietnam. But it's even weirder. Lillian Walker is a mother. She has no reason. Let those young fighters die. I often wonder if the man behind the scenes is trying to deal with her husband. As a Democrat, Walker's right-leaning tendencies are too obvious, and many of his ideas even go against the fundamental line of the party, and he and The president's friendship has also created a lot of envy." "You think it's a conspiracy?" "I can't say that's my opinion, but it's not impossible, who would have thought that this would happen? Well, it's time for me to ask you a question. It's been decades, how could you Sudden interest in this matter?" "Lillian Walker's granddaughter is a friend of mine. She's insisting on clearing her grandmother. I know that until the other day, it seemed like someone was paying attention." Andrew had previously copied a copy of Susie's letter, and now he handed the copy to Morton, detailing two burglaries at his and Susie's apartment. "The original was damaged, so I copied it." Andrew said. "This letter doesn't explain anything," Morton said while reading, "You said you read hundreds of articles related to this matter?" "I've read every article that mentions Walker." "Is there any mention of overseas travel or business trips or anything like that?" "No, why do you ask that?" "Put on your coat and follow me to the garage." Morton picked up a wind lamp on the bookshelf and motioned for Andrew to go with him. They walked through a frosty vegetable garden and into a garage.In Andrew's opinion, this garage is even bigger than Morton's house.There is an old Jeep in the garage, there is a pile of firewood, and there are a dozen iron boxes at the end. "My career is in these boxes. If you look at it that way, you can't do much in your life, especially when I think about how many all nights I spent writing these things, and they are completely gone now. When it's useful." Ben Morton sighed. He opened a few boxes and let Andrew light him up.Finally he took out a copy of the material from it and took it back to the room. The two sat down at the table.Morton added some wood to the fireplace and began to read his notes from the time. "You can read it for me too. I remember that there should be a copy of Walker's life in it." Andrew carried out the order immediately, but Morton's handwriting was not very legible.Finally he found the document and handed it to Morton. "It seems that I'm not old-fashioned." Morton sighed happily. "what are you saying?" "Something about your letter. Walker was already an MP in 1956, and MPs weren't supposed to go to Berlin during the Cold War unless they were on a diplomatic mission, which is easy to find out. But you If you look at his resume, you should see that he never learned German. So why did he stay in Berlin with this friend from 1956 to 1959?" Andrew immediately annoyed himself why he hadn't thought of this before. Morton stood up and looked out the window at the rising sun. "It's going to snow," he said, observing the sky. "If you're going back to New York, you'd better start right away. Snow is no fun in this part of the world, and you might be stuck for days. Bring Although there is nothing important in this material, it may be useful to you. I don't need it anymore." Morton made Andrew a sandwich and filled him with a pot of hot coffee. "You're a very different Ben Morton from the guy at the gas station." "Do you say that to thank me? If so, you have a special way of thanking me, my child. I was born here, grew up here, and come back to spend the rest of my life. If you have traveled the world , After seeing what you want to see, there will be a desire to return to the roots. When I was seventeen, the idiot at the gas station was convinced that I slept with his sister. I didn’t justify it out of self-esteem. In fact, his sister Very casual in that, and the town boys often take advantage of it, but I've never done that. And he's hostile to almost all the boys in the village and around." Morton walks Andrew to the car. "Take good care of the material I gave you, study it carefully, and hope you can send it back to me after you use it." Andrew assured him and sat at the steering wheel. "Steelman, you have to be careful. Now that your apartment has been burglarized, it proves that this matter is not over yet. Maybe some people don't want Lillian Walker's past to be unearthed." "Why? You said it yourself that it's been so many years." "I know some prosecutors. They also know that some death row inmates were wronged and should not die for it. But they will do everything possible to prevent others from finding out the facts. They would rather watch these people die in the electric chair than admit that they blunders and incompetence. Although more than forty years have passed, a senator's wife wronged to death may still threaten some people's interests." "How can you be sure she's dead? None of the papers said what happened to her." "The ensuing collective silence proved it," Morton replied. "Anyway, if you want me to help, you can call me. I wrote the number on the sandwich wrapper. Best night Hi, I'm usually not home during the day." "There is one last question, I must make it clear to you," Andrew said, "I suggested Figuera to call you and let him inform you that I will come to visit. I am not the incompetent person you imagined reporter." Andrew started the car and left, snowflakes were already floating in the air. After the car disappeared over the horizon, Morton returned to the room and picked up the phone. "He's gone," he said to the other end. "What did he know?" "It seems that he doesn't know too much. But he is a good reporter, even if he knows, he may not tell it." "Did you see that letter?" "He showed it to me." "Can you copy it down?" "It should be up to you to copy it down. It's not difficult to remember what's inside." He began to repeat the following to the other party: Dear Edward: I can imagine how much this misfortune has affected you, but for your peace of mind, let me tell you that if I were you, I would do the same under the same circumstances.The national interest is above all else. For people like us, we have no other choice but to choose to defend the country, although we may lose what we cherish the most. We will not meet again in the future, and I deeply regret that.I will never forget the leisurely time we spent in Berlin between 1956 and 1959, and I will never forget that on a July 29th, you saved my life.So far, we have cleared the two. "Who signed it?" "What he gave me was just a handwritten copy, without a signature on it. It is said that the original paper is already very fragile. It has been sealed in the mountain crevices for nearly fifty years, so it is understandable." "Did you give him the materials?" "He took the material with him. I don't think I need to give him more hints. Steelman is a man who likes to dig up the truth, and he will check it himself. I have done what you said, but I don't understand your Intent. Everything we've done was to destroy these materials, and you're bringing them back to light." "After she died no one knew she hid them there." "Didn't the report say that she had destroyed them? That's what the higher-ups want, isn't it? Let the materials disappear with her." "I have always been skeptical about the content of the report. Lilian is a smart woman. She must have foreseen that she will be arrested. She should have put the materials in a safe place before that. If she wants to make it public These materials, they will certainly not be destroyed." "It's just your opinion. Even if the conclusion of the report is wrong, we have spent so many years and haven't been able to find the material. What is there to worry about?" "The honor of the family needs to be defended by every generation. This is also the reason why many tribal wars broke out. The reason why we were able to take a short break before was because Lilian Walker's daughter was unable to find out the truth, but her granddaughter obviously Not a character to be messed with. If she can't clear up her grandmother's grievances, her descendants will continue. We have to defend the honor of the country, but we will die one day. With the help of this reporter, Suzy may be able to realize her The goal. Then we will intervene at the right time to bring this matter to an end." "Are we going to arrange for her the same fate as her grandmother?" "I hope not. It depends on the specific situation, and we will contact you again. By the way, what have you done to the real Morton?" "You said he wanted to spend the rest of his life in this house, and I helped him realize his last wish. Now he sleeps under his rose. What am I going to do next?" "Stay at Morton's until you receive new instructions." "I hope it won't be too long, this place is not very comfortable." "I'll call you in a few days. Try not to be seen by anyone nearby." "It won't be a problem, this shack has almost no contact with the outside world." The man sighed. But Arnold Knopf had hung up on the phone. The man walked into the bathroom on the second floor, looked at himself in the mirror, and carefully removed the glued beard and gray hair.With the disguise off, he looked at least twenty years younger. "It seems that you didn't tell me everything about your grandmother." In the library, Andrew sat next to Susie. "I didn't switch seats so you could sit next to me again." "Not always." "You never asked me before." "Well, I'll ask now. Is there anything else about Lillian Walker that you haven't told me?" "What does this have to do with you?" "Never mind. I may be a drunk and have a bad temper, but I'm a good reporter, and that's the only thing I'm good at. Do you need my help?" "What conditions do you have?" "I can give you a few weeks. Assuming we can prove your grandmother's innocence, then I will release this news exclusively, and reserve the right to publish related articles without your review." Susie picked up everything and left the seat without a word. "Aren't you kidding?" Andrew caught up with her, "don't you want to bargain with me?" "You can't talk in the reading room. We're going to the café, please don't talk now." Susie asked for a dessert, and then sat opposite Andrew. "Do you only eat sweets?" “你只喝酒吗？”苏茜立刻针锋相对，“我接受你的条件，但我有一个小小的要求。我不会改动你的文章，但是在发表之前，你要给我看一下。” “成交。”安德鲁说道，“你的外祖父有没有跟你提过他曾经去柏林出过差？” “他几乎从不跟我说话。你为什么要问这个问题？” “因为他好像从来没有去过柏林。那我们就要好好想想阿什顿的话到底是什么意思了。你不是擅长破译密码吗？现在是你发挥作用的时候了。” “我拿到信之后一直在尝试破解那句话的意思。你以为我这些天都在干什么？我打乱过词的顺序，加减过里面的辅音和元音，甚至还用过一个软件，但还是什么都没有发现。” “你之前说你的外祖母留下过一条信息，我可以看一下吗？” 苏茜打开挎包，从中拿出一个文件夹，取出了一张纸，把它递给了安德鲁，上面是莉莉安的笔迹： “这四个男人是谁？”安德鲁问道。 “是三个男人。威廉·伍丁是罗斯福手下的财务总长。但我没有查到谁是詹姆斯·韦特默，同名的人太多了！你肯定想不到有多少医生都叫这个名字！至于费雪·斯通的裁缝……” “费雪·斯通是个地方？在哪里？” “我也不知道，我已经调查过所有沿海的小城市，从东海岸到西海岸，没有城市叫这个名字。我还在加拿大调查过，也没有什么线索。” “挪威或者瑞典呢？” “没什么结果。” “我会请多乐丽丝帮忙。如果真有地方叫这个名字，不管它是在桑给巴尔的郊区还是在某个不知名的小岛上，她都能找到。你的文件夹里还有什么有用的材料吗？” “除了这条无法理解的信息，还有莉莉安的几张照片和她写给玛蒂尔德的一句话，别的就没什么了。” "What words?" “不管是雨雪严寒，还是酷暑黑暗，都不能阻止信使走完他要走的路。” “你的外祖母真喜欢打哑谜。” “设身处地地替她想一想。” “跟我说说那天从杂货铺里出来的人是谁？” “我告诉过你了，是克诺夫，他是外祖父的朋友。” “如果我没搞错的话，他们应该不是同龄人。” “是的，克诺夫要年轻一些。” “除了是你外祖父的朋友，他平时是做什么工作的？” “他为中情局工作。” “是他帮你清除了有关过去的一切信息？” “从我记事起，他就一直在保护我。他向外祖父保证过，他是个重诺的人。” “中情局的雇员，又是你家人的朋友。他真是进退两难，恐怕很难处理这两方的关系。” “玛蒂尔德认为是他向莉莉安通报了她稍后会被捕的消息。但是克诺夫对此一直否认。但是那天外祖母没有回家，我母亲之后再没有见过她。” 安德鲁拿出了莫顿给他的资料。 “除了我们两个人，还有别人可以帮我们。” “是谁给你的？”苏茜浏览着那些剪报。 “一个已经退休的同事。你外祖母事发的当时，他就对她是否有罪持保留态度。不要再看这些文章了，它们都是在重复同一件事情。虽然多乐丽丝给我准备的材料也很全，但我总觉得里面好像少了什么。看看莫顿的笔记吧，这都是当时写的，记录了事件发生时的情况。” 安德鲁和苏茜一整个下午都待在阅览室里，直到傍晚才走下了图书馆门前的台阶。安德鲁希望多乐丽丝还在报社，但是等他到达的时候，多乐丽丝已经离开了。 安德鲁走进了自己的办公室，里面空无一人，安德鲁也利用这难得的安静气氛开始工作。他把那些笔记放在面前，试图把它们置于某个大框架内，好理清这些事实之间的联系。 弗雷迪·奥尔森走出了洗手间，朝安德鲁走了过来。 “不要这样看着我，斯迪曼，我只是去了趟洗手间。” “奥尔森，我根本不想看你。”安德鲁边说边继续盯着那些笔记。 “你真的重新开始工作了！伟大的斯迪曼记者的下一个选题是什么？”奥尔森坐在了安德鲁的旁边。 “你是永远都这么精力充沛吗？”安德鲁反问道。 “如果能帮到你，那我会很乐意。” “弗雷迪，回到你的座位上去，我不喜欢别人从我的头上往下看。” “你开始对邮政系统感兴趣了？我知道你一向看不起我的工作，但是两年前我写过一份系统的报道，是关于法利邮局的。” "what are you saying?" “关于如何把邮局的地下部分连通在一起，好变成一个火车站。这个计划是1990年一个参议员提出的，但是二十年后才开始施行。一期工程两年前已经动工了，大概四年后就能完成。法利邮局的地下部分会和佩恩地铁站连接在一起，政府计划在它们之间建一个穿过第八大街的通道。” “感谢你为我上的这堂市政教育课，奥尔森。” “斯迪曼，你为什么总是轻视我？你总是认为你比所有人都要强，难道你担心我会抢走你的选题？而且这个题目我已经调查过了。如果你准备从高高在上的神坛上走下来，我可以把笔记借给你，你可以随便使用，我什么都不会说的，我保证。” “但是我为什么要研究你说的邮局呢？” “'不管是雨雪严寒，还是酷暑黑暗，都不能阻止信使走完他要走的路。'你以为我是傻瓜吗？这句话可是刻在每一家邮局的外墙上的。你是觉得它很美才抄下来的吗？” “我发誓，我真的不知道是这样。”安德鲁回答道。 “斯迪曼，走路的时候最好也向周围看一看，这样你就会发现自己住在纽约。那个楼顶的霓虹灯会变换颜色的摩天大楼叫帝国大厦，希望你不会有一天突然问我它叫什么。” 安德鲁心中满是疑惑，他收拾东西离开了报社。为什么莉莉安·沃克要抄一句写在邮局外墙上的话？这句话又是什么意思？ 树枝和灌木丛上都挂满了冰凌。地面上一片白茫茫，池塘都已经冻住了。天空阴晴不定，在风的作用下，云在天上飘来飘去，月亮时隐时现。远处，她看到了一束灯光，就立即站起身来跑了出去。头顶传来一声乌鸦的啼叫，她抬起了头，却看到鸟儿正在盯着她，似乎在等待她成为自己的晚餐。 “还没到时候。”她说道，丝毫没有放慢奔跑的速度。 左边有一些陡坡，把这里和外界隔绝了开来。她助跑了一下，试图爬上去，只要能离开这里，那些人就无法再抓住她。 她加快了速度，但是月光却突然明亮起来。枪声响了起来，她的背部立刻感到了灼痛，她的呼吸停止了，腿也软了下来，整个身子向前栽去。 她的面部摔在了雪地上。死也没有这么可怕，反抗显得毫无意义。 身后传来了脚步声，积雪在他们的鞋子下嘎吱作响。那些人靠近了，但是她希望可以立刻死去，不要看见他们丑恶的嘴脸。至于在人世间最后的回忆，她只想记住玛蒂尔德的眼睛。她希望自己还有力气向玛蒂尔德说一声对不起，因为她的自私让玛蒂尔德失去了母亲。 她如何能离开自己的孩子，放弃看她承欢膝下的幸福，让自己再也听不到她附在耳边对母亲说的小秘密，再也看不到她无忧无虑的笑脸，把自己带到一个离她如此遥远的地方？死本身并不可怕，可怕的是要离开自己的亲人。 她的心跳加速了，她尝试站起来，但是地面在她面前裂开了，深渊中传来鼓声，露出了玛蒂尔德的脸。 苏茜一身冷汗地惊醒过来。从她童年起，这个噩梦就一直困扰着她，让她每次醒来后都会莫名地烦躁。 Someone is knocking on the door.苏茜掀开被子，穿过客厅，询问门外的人是谁。 “安德鲁·斯迪曼。”门口传来声音。 苏茜打开了门。 “你是在健身吗？”安德鲁走进门来。 他试图移开自己的视线，苏茜的汗衫已经全部湿透，乳房的形状若隐若现。很久以来的第一次，安德鲁感到了欲望的冲动。 “几点了？”苏茜问道。 “7点半。我给你带来了咖啡和小圆面包。快去冲个澡，穿上衣服。” “斯迪曼，你是从床上掉下来了吗？” “不是，你就没有什么浴袍之类的更保守的衣服可以换吗？” 苏茜从他手中拿过了咖啡，又咬了一口面包。 “怎么突然会有心情来给我送早餐？” “昨天我从一个同事那里得到了一条重要线索。” “先是你的多乐丽丝，现在又有另一个同事。是整个《纽约时报》的编辑部都被惊动了吗？我们应该谨慎一点儿，怎么你就做不到呢？” “奥尔森什么都不知道，你不用教训我了。你到底去不去穿衣服？” “你查到了什么？”苏茜边说边回到了卧室。 “你可以自己去看。”安德鲁也跟着她走了进来。 “如果你不介意的话，我想单独去洗个澡。” 安德鲁的脸红了，他走回了客厅的窗户处。 十分钟之后，苏茜重新出现了，她穿着一条牛仔裤，上身是一件宽松式毛衣，戴着一顶毛线帽。 “我们走吧？” “穿上我的大衣，”安德鲁把自己的外套递给了苏茜，“把帽子一直拉到眼睛那里。你要自己出去。沿着街往上走，街的对面有一条向上的小道，顺着它一直走，你就会走到勒鲁瓦街区。跑步到第七大道，找一辆出租车，让它送你到第八大道和31号街路口处的佩恩地铁站的进口。” “现在这个时间就玩这种寻宝游戏你不觉得很没有必要吗？有什么意义？” “你家楼下停着一辆出租车。从你洗澡到现在，它都没有移动过。”安德鲁继续看着窗外。 “那又怎样？司机是不是去喝咖啡了？” “那边没有卖咖啡的地方。司机就坐在方向盘后面，一直看着你的公寓。照我说的做。” 苏茜穿上了安德鲁的外套，安德鲁替她调整了一下帽子，又端详了一下。 “应该看不出来。不要这样看我，又不是我被跟踪了。” “你觉得这么穿，他们就能把我当成你？” “重要的是他们不把你当成你，这就够了。” 安德鲁回到了他的观察点。苏茜出去之后，那个出租车没有移动位置。 安德鲁等了几分钟，也走了出去。 苏茜正在人行道上等他，站在一个报刊亭的前面。 “我家楼下的到底是谁？” “我记下了车牌号，看看能不能查出什么。” “我们去坐地铁？”苏茜边说边准备走进地铁站。 “不是，”安德鲁回答道，“我们应该看看街对面。” 苏茜转过身来。 “你要寄信？” “不要光顾着打趣我，看看上面写着什么。” 苏茜吃惊地睁大了双眼，看着法利邮局外面的文字。 “现在，我们就要考虑一下你外祖母为什么要抄下这句话了。” “玛蒂尔德告诉过我莉莉安有一个保险箱，她在里面放了些东西。那个保险箱应该就寄放在邮局。” “这样的话就糟糕了。已经过去这么久了，不知道还能不能找得到？” 他们走到了街的对面，进入邮局的大堂里。邮局内部的空间很大，安德鲁向一位职员询问了信箱在什么地方，职员告诉他在左手边的走廊里。 苏茜摘下了帽子，安德鲁看着她光洁的脖颈，有一瞬间的失神。 “看来我们是找不到了，这儿有一千多个邮箱。”苏茜看着那一面满是信箱的墙壁。 “你的外祖母希望有人能找到它。不管她想到的人是谁，我们都需要更多的信息。” 安德鲁打通了报社的电话。 “奥尔森，我需要你的帮助。” “叫真正的斯迪曼来跟我说话，”弗雷迪反驳道，“你的声音学得很像，但是你刚刚说的话已经出卖了你。” “我是认真的，到法利邮局的正门口来。” “啊，我明白是怎么回事了。要是我这次愿意帮你，你准备怎么感谢我？” “你会赢得我的尊敬，而且我保证如有一天你需要帮助的话，我也会帮你的。” “那好吧。”奥尔森思考了一会儿，回答道。 安德鲁和苏茜站在门口的台阶上等着奥尔森。不一会儿，奥尔森就从出租车上走了下来，把打车票递给了安德鲁。 “我不想走路，你欠我十块打车钱。你准备在法利邮局干什么？” 他一直盯着苏茜看，久到让苏茜都觉得有点儿尴尬。 “我是安德鲁前妻的朋友，”苏茜很快编造了一个身份，“我是市政管理学专业的学生，之前在做博士论文的时候我为了让内容多一点儿，就从网上盗用了一个章节。导师说他可以对此不予追究，条件是我必须立刻写出新的一章来，论述一下19世纪初纽约市建筑风格的演变对整个城市发展史的影响。这个老师是个极其固执的人，他让我下周一之前必须写出来，这么短的时间内几乎不可能写出来，但是我别无选择，必须完成这个任务。这家邮局是那个时期建筑的代表。安德鲁告诉我你比它的建筑师还要了解这座建筑。” “比詹姆斯·韦特默还要了解？小姐你过奖了，不过我的确知道很多关于这儿的事情，我之前就这个选题发表过一篇很出色的文章，你本应该先读一读的。如果你能把住址告诉我，我今晚就可以给你送一份过去。” “你刚才提到了谁的名字？” “詹姆斯·韦特默，这个邮局的总建筑师，你不知道吗？” “我刚刚忘记了，”苏茜露出了思索的神色，“那费雪和斯通这两个名字呢，能让你想起什么吗？这是不是指代这个邮局里的某个地方？” “您到底是什么类型的市政管理学学生？” “差生。”苏茜承认道。 “我也这么认为，跟我来吧。”奥尔森不由得嘟哝了两句。 他带着苏茜和安德鲁走到了一面墙壁前，上面有几行铭文，应该是用来纪念这个邮局的落成： “看来我们知道邮箱的编号了。”安德鲁在苏茜的耳边说。 “好了，你们想从哪里开始参观？”奥尔森问道，显然他非常满意自己刚才的介绍带来的效果。 “还请你做我们的向导。”苏茜回答。 接下来的两个小时里，奥尔森就变成了一个合格的讲解员。他的相关知识非常丰富，甚至让安德鲁觉得很惊讶。每走一步，他都能告诉苏茜某个檐壁设计的来历，或者是某个浮雕是出自于哪个艺术家之手，甚至是铺地的大理石来自于哪个产地。苏茜一直很认真地听着，不时还会问几个问题，这让安德鲁很恼火。 走回到信箱旁边之后，苏茜和安德鲁注意到其中并没有1933号信箱。 “80年代初的时候，邮局开始使用自动信件分拣系统。原来位于地下的信箱就全部关闭了，不再向公众开放。” “地下还有信箱？” “当然有，但是关闭地下部分也没什么太大关系，人们都不太用信箱了，哪怕地上的这些，大部分也只是装饰品。虽然一般不能下去，但是我和邮局的一个负责人关系不错，如果你想参观一下的话，我们可以找一天时间一起下去看一看。” “那就太好了。”苏茜回答道。 她向弗雷迪·奥尔森表示了感谢，告诉他自己回家之后就会用今天的收获来完善论文。 奥尔森记下了苏茜的号码，向她承诺他随时愿意效劳。 苏茜把大衣还给了安德鲁，让他和奥尔森可以独处一会儿。奥尔森看着苏茜消失在不远处。 “告诉我，斯迪曼，你是不是还在缅怀上一段婚姻？”弗雷迪看着苏茜穿过了第八大道。 “这跟你有什么关系？” “我感觉好像是这样。既然如此，我跟你的朋友出去吃饭就没什么关系了吧？也许是我自作多情，不过我觉得她好像对我还蛮有点儿意思的。” “既然你觉得她对你印象不错，那就别放过这次机会。” “斯迪曼，你今天说的话没有平时那么招人讨厌。” “她还是单身，你愿意怎么做是你的自由。” 安德鲁走进了弗兰基餐厅，看到苏茜坐在餐厅最里面固定的位置上。 “我跟服务生说今天要和你一起吃晚饭。” “我看出来了。”安德鲁坐了下来。 “你甩掉你的同事了？” “你又没有帮我赶走他。” “那我们现在做什么？” “吃饭，然后我们去做一件很大胆的事情，不过希望之后不要因此后悔。” “什么样的大胆的事情？”苏茜做了一个挑衅的手势。 安德鲁在随身的挎包里翻了一下，拿出一盏风灯放在桌上。苏茜打开了它，把它举向天花板。 “我们是不是要假扮自由女神？”苏茜边说边拿灯去照安德鲁的眼睛，“快把所有你知道的事情都倒出来吧，斯迪曼先生。”她又开始模仿警察审讯犯人的口气。 “苏茜，不要闹了。不过还是很高兴这盏灯能给你带来这么大的乐趣。” “好吧，我们到底要拿它去做什么？” “我们要去法利邮局地下找一个信箱。” "are you serious?" “不光认真，我们还不能惊动任何人。” “我喜欢这个主意。” “那太好了，不过说实在的，我从心底并不想这么做。” 安德鲁在苏茜面前打开了一张平面图。 “这是多乐丽丝在市政网站上找到的，属于可以公开查询的材料。你看，在这片区域，就是邮局地下室的范围，”他用手指着地图上的黑线，“我已经知道该怎么进去了。” “你会穿墙术吗？” “地图上这些略细的线代表这里的墙壁是石膏制的。不过你既然觉得我的想法很可笑，那我就回家看电视了，比偷偷摸摸跑去邮局地下室要舒服，也安全得多。” 苏茜把手放在了安德鲁的手上。 “我只是想逗你笑一笑。我几乎从来没见你笑过。” 安德鲁努力挤出了一个笑容。 “比哭还要难看，就好像在看尼克尔森扮演搞笑的角色。” “好吧，我本来就不是喜欢笑的人。”安德鲁收起了地图，“快把意大利面吃完，我好给你讲解一下。”他抽回了手。 苏茜让女侍应生上了一杯酒，安德鲁则示意她可以把账单拿过来了。 “你是怎么认识你前妻的？” “中学就认识了。我们都是在波基普西长大的。” “你们那时候就在一起了？” “没有，大概二十年之后，我们在纽约相遇了，在一家酒吧门口。瓦莱丽变成了一个真正的女人，她变得很美！但是那天晚上，我觉得自己面前的仍然是以前的那个小姑娘。这种感觉我一直记得。” “后来为什么分手？” “第一次是她离开了我，我们都有自己的梦想，她不想继续在我身上耽误时间了。年轻的时候我们总是耐心不足。” “第二次呢？” “因为我不会撒谎……” “你劈腿了？” "Not really." “斯迪曼，你真是个有趣的人。” “还是个不会笑的人。” “你还爱她吗？” “爱不爱还重要吗？” “她还活着，你可以试图挽回。” “沙米尔爱你，你也爱他。某种意义上，你们才是真正永远在一起了。而我一直是一个人。” 苏茜突然站了起来，俯身给了安德鲁一个吻。这个吻很短暂，充满了忧伤和恐惧，又像是为了告别，仿佛他们会就此分开。 “我们要去实施这起盗窃案了吗？”她抚着安德鲁的面颊。 安德鲁牵起了苏茜的手，他的视线停留在苏茜失去的指节上。他吻了吻苏茜的手心。 “走，我们作案去吧。”他边说边站起身来。 西村之后就是切尔西街区，两人乘着的士一路向东。途中，安德鲁一直看着后视镜，似乎很怕被跟踪。 “不用这么小心吧？”苏茜说。 “那天你家楼下的出租车是警车伪装的。” “你问了那个司机？” “可不是只有奥尔森一个人有关系，他认识邮局的人，我也认识当地警署的一个探长。我下午给他打过电话，那个号码是警车牌号。” “也许我们周围有某个逃犯，想想我们之前都被盗了。” “我倒希望是这样。皮勒格探长不是那种会无视我的问题的人。我请他查一查那个警察到底在监视谁，但他的那些同事都表示没人在哈得孙街执行监视任务。” “那我就不明白了，这到底是不是警车？” “这应该是经过双重伪装的车。只有一个政府部门能做到这一点，你现在明白了吧？” 安德鲁带着苏茜来到了佩恩地铁站。他们顺着楼梯走到了地下的站台。时间已经很晚了，站里没有什么乘客。他们沿着一个通道一直向里面走，周围的光线越来越暗。转过一个路口之后，他