Rage - Smith Wilbur (читать книги онлайн без сокращений .TXT) 📗
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past Centaine, and at less than five paces looked directly into tl pale face of the smaller of the men. His eyes were black and impla able as pools of liquid tar, but as Shasa studied him, the m deliberately turned his face away. Yet his lips kept moving, talkir so softly to the man in the parliamentary uniform that Shasa couJ not catch even a murmur of his voice.
Centaine tugged at his sleeve. 'Chri, you are not listening to me 'I'm sorry, Mater,' Shasa apologized absentmindedly.
'I wonder why this woman chose the railway station,' Centair repeated.
'I suppose she feels safer in a public place,' Shasa hazarded, an glanced back over his shoulder. The two men were still on the benct but even in his preoccupation with other things, the passionle, malevolence that Shasa had seen in that tar-black gaze made hir shiver as though an icy wind had blown upon the back of his neck As they turned into the lane that led to the massive edifice of pm liament, Shasa felt suddenly confused and uncertain. There was to, much happening all around him over which he had no control. I was a sensation to which he was not accustomed.
Joe Cicero whispered the formula soly, 'You can feel the worm ii your belly." 'Yes,' the man beside him replied, staring straight ahead.
Only hi lips moved as he made the reply, 'I can feel the worm." 'The worm asks if you have the knife." 'Yes, I have the knife,' said the man. His father had been a Greek and he had been born illegitimate in Portuguese Mozambique of a Mulatto woman. His mixed blood was not apparent. It seemed merely as though he was of Mediterranean extraction. Only Europeans were employed as messengers in the South African parliament.
'You can feel the worm in your belly,' Joe Cicero reinforced the man's conditioning.
'Yes, I can feel the worm." Eight times in the past few years he had been in mental institutions.
It was while he was in the last of these that he had been selected and the conditioning of his mind accomplished.
'The worm asks if you know where to find the devil,' Joe Cicero told him. The man's name was Demetrio Tsafendas and he had been introduced into South Africa the previous year, once his conditioning was completed.
'Yes,' said Tsafendas. 'I know where to find the devil." 'The worm in your belly orders you to go straight to where the devil is,' Joe Cicero said softly. 'The worm in your belly orders you to kill the devil." Tsafendas stood up. He moved like an automaton.
'The worm orders you to go now!" Tsafendas started towards the parliament building with an even unhurried tread.
Joe Cicero watched him go. It was done. All the pieces had been placed with great care. At last the first boulder had started to roll down the hillside. It would gather others as it built up speed and momenttim, goon it would be a mighty avalanche and the shape of the mountain would be changed for ever.
Joe Cicero stood up and walked away.
The first person Shasa saw as he and Centaine walked up the front steps to the parliament entrance was Kitty Godolphin and his heart surged with excitement and unexpected pleasure. He hadn't seen her since that illicit interlude in the south of France eighteen months before. Shasa had chartered a luxury yacht and they had cruised as far as Capri. When they parted, she had promised to write - but she never kept her promises, and here she was again with no warning, smiling that sweet girlish smile with the devilment in her eyes, coming to greet him as innocently and naturally as though their last kiss had been hours before.
'What are you doing here?" he demanded without any preliminaries, and Kitty said to Centaine, 'Hello, Mrs Courtney. How did such a nice cultured lady ever end up with such an ill-mannered son?" Centaine laughed, she liked Kitty. Shasa thought that it was a case of kindred spirits. Kitty explained, 'I was in Rhodesia to get a profile on Ian Smithy before he meets Harold Wilson, and I made a side trip for the speech that Verwoerd is giving today, and of course to visit with you." They chatted for a few minutes, then Centaine excused herselfi 'I must get a good seat in the gallery." As she moved awiy Shasa asked Kitty softly, 'When can I see you?" 'This evening?" Kitty suggested.
'Yes - oh no, damn it." He remembered his rendezvous with the White*Sword informer. 'Where are you staying?" 'The Nellie as usual." 'Can I call you there later?" 'Sure,' she smiled. 'Unless I get any better offers." 'You little bitch! Why don't you marry me?" 'I'm too good for you, buster." It had become one of their stock jokes. 'But I don't mind an order of small beer and chips on the side.
See you later:'
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Shasa watched her climb the staircase towards the press galler) Over all the years he had known her, she seemed not to have aged day. She still had the body of a girl, and the light spring of youth iJ her step. He pushed back the sudden cold gloom of loneliness that threatened to engulf him and walked into the chamber.
The benches were filling. Shasa saw that the prime minister was il his seat at the head of the government benches. He was talking t Frank Waring, the minister of sport, and the only other Englishmai in the cabinet.
Verwoerd looked fit and vigorous. It seemed impossible that hid had taken two revolver bullets through his skull and had come bach with such power to dominate his own party and the entire chambeJ this way. He seemed to have an infinite capacity for survival and, oJ course, Shasa grinned cynically, the luck of the devil himself.
Shasa started towards his own seat, and Manfred DeLa jumped up and came to intercept him.
He seized Shasa's arm and leaned close to him. 'The divers have raised the ferry. Gama's body is not in it and the door to the cabin has been forced. It looks as though the bastard has got clean away.
But we have every exit from the country guarded and my men will get him. He cannot get away. I think the prime minister is going to make the announcement of his disappearance during his speech this afternoon." Shasa and Manfred began walking towards their seats on the front bench, when somebody bumped so roughly against Shasa that he exclaimed and glanced around. It was the uniformed messenger that Shasa had noticed on the park bench.
'Be careful, fellow,' Shasa snapped at him as he recovered his balance, but the man did not seem to hear.
Although his expression was vacant and his eyes staring and unseeing, the-messenger walked with a quick determined step, brushing past Manfred and heading towards the opposition benches on the left side of the Speaker's throne.
'Damned rude,' Shasa said, pausing to watch him.
Suddenly the messenger seemed to change his mind, he veered across the chamber and hurried towards where Dr Verwoerd was sitting. The prime minister saw him coming and looked up expectantly, supposing that the man had a message for him. Nobody else in the chamber seemed to be taking any notice of the messenger's erratic behaviour, but Shasa was watching with puzzlement.
As the messenger stood over Dr Verwoerd, he swept his dark uniform jacket open and Shasa saw the silver flash of steel. 'Good Christ!" he exclaimed. 'He's got a knife." The messenger lifted the blade and struck once, and strangely the prime minister was smiling, as though he did not realize what was happening. The blade came free and the silver was misted pink with blood.
Shasa started forward, but Manfred still had hold of his arm. 'The Manchurian Candidate,' he hissed and Shasa froze.
Standing over the prime minister, the assassin struck again and then again. With each blow the blood spurted down his white shirt front and Dr Verwoerd lifted his hands in a pathetic gesture of appeal.
