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The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 195 из 209”
“May I see the document, please?”
“Where are those paintings!”
“I don’tknow what you’re talking about.”
Gessler released Gabriel’s arm. “Someone take him, please.”
46
NIDWALDEN , SWITZERLAND
THE DRUGS WORE OFF, as Gabriel knew they would, and the pain returned stronger than before, as if it had used the respite to gather itself for a final assault. Every nerve in his body seemed to be transmitting charges of pain simultaneously. It overwhelmed his brain and he began to shiver-a violent, uncontrollable shiver that made his body hurt even more. He needed to be sick but prayed he wouldn’t. He knew the contraction of vomiting would inflict a new round of exquisite suffering.
Once again he searched for a safe place for his thoughts to alight, but now the memory of Otto Gessler and his collection kept intruding. Gessler in his robe and sunglasses; room after room filled with pillaged Nazi art. He wondered whether it had really been true or just a side effect of the drugs they had made him take. No, he thought. It is true. It was all there, gathered in one place, just beyond his reach. Just beyond the world’s reach.
The door opened and his body tensed. Who was it? Gessler’s henchmen come to kill him? Gessler himself, come to show him another room filled with lost masters? But as his chamber filled with light, he realized it was neither Gessler or his thugs.
It was Gerhardt Peterson.
“CAN you stand up?”
“No.”
Peterson crouched before him. He lit a cigarette, took a long time looking at Gabriel’s face. He seemed saddened by what he saw there.
“It’s important that you try to stand up.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re coming to kill you soon.”
“What are they waiting for?”
“Darkness.”
“Why do they need darkness?”
“They’re going to take your body up to the glacier field and drop it down a crevasse.”
“That’s comforting. I thought they’d just stuff me into a strongbox and deposit me in one of Gessler’s numbered accounts.”
“They considered that.” A mirthless chuckle. “I told you not to come here. You can’t beat him, I told you. You should’ve listened to me.”
“You’re always right, Gerhardt. You were right about everything.”
“No, not everything.”
He reached into his coat pocket and produced Gabriel’s Beretta. He placed it in the palm of his hand and held it toward Gabriel like an offertory.
“What’s that for?”
“Take it.” He wagged the gun a little.
“May I see the document, please?”
“Where are those paintings!”
“I don’tknow what you’re talking about.”
Gessler released Gabriel’s arm. “Someone take him, please.”
46
NIDWALDEN , SWITZERLAND
THE DRUGS WORE OFF, as Gabriel knew they would, and the pain returned stronger than before, as if it had used the respite to gather itself for a final assault. Every nerve in his body seemed to be transmitting charges of pain simultaneously. It overwhelmed his brain and he began to shiver-a violent, uncontrollable shiver that made his body hurt even more. He needed to be sick but prayed he wouldn’t. He knew the contraction of vomiting would inflict a new round of exquisite suffering.
Once again he searched for a safe place for his thoughts to alight, but now the memory of Otto Gessler and his collection kept intruding. Gessler in his robe and sunglasses; room after room filled with pillaged Nazi art. He wondered whether it had really been true or just a side effect of the drugs they had made him take. No, he thought. It is true. It was all there, gathered in one place, just beyond his reach. Just beyond the world’s reach.
The door opened and his body tensed. Who was it? Gessler’s henchmen come to kill him? Gessler himself, come to show him another room filled with lost masters? But as his chamber filled with light, he realized it was neither Gessler or his thugs.
It was Gerhardt Peterson.
“CAN you stand up?”
“No.”
Peterson crouched before him. He lit a cigarette, took a long time looking at Gabriel’s face. He seemed saddened by what he saw there.
“It’s important that you try to stand up.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re coming to kill you soon.”
“What are they waiting for?”
“Darkness.”
“Why do they need darkness?”
“They’re going to take your body up to the glacier field and drop it down a crevasse.”
“That’s comforting. I thought they’d just stuff me into a strongbox and deposit me in one of Gessler’s numbered accounts.”
“They considered that.” A mirthless chuckle. “I told you not to come here. You can’t beat him, I told you. You should’ve listened to me.”
“You’re always right, Gerhardt. You were right about everything.”
“No, not everything.”
He reached into his coat pocket and produced Gabriel’s Beretta. He placed it in the palm of his hand and held it toward Gabriel like an offertory.
“What’s that for?”
“Take it.” He wagged the gun a little.