The Ghost(英文版)- 第37部分

　　of　Mr。　Lang’s　book　when　it　appears。”

　　“Perhaps　he’ll　send　you　a　copy；”　I　said；　“for　old　time’s　sake。”

　　“I　doubt　it　very　much；”　he　replied。　“The　gate　will　open　automatically。　Be　sure　to　make　a　right　at　the　bottom　of　the　drive。　If　you　turn　left；　the　road　will　take　you　deeper　into　the　woods　and　you’ll　never　be　seen　again。”

　　MRS。　EMMETT　CLOSED　THEdoor　behind　me　before　I’d　even　reached　the　bottom　step。　I　could　sense　her　husband　watching　me　from　the　window　of　his　study　as　I　walked　across　the　damp　grass　to　the　Ford。　At　the　bottom　of　the　drive；　while　I　waited　for　the　gate　to　open；　the　wind　moved　suddenly　through　the　branches　of　the　high　trees　on　either　side　of　me；　laying　a　heavy　lash　of　rainwater　across　the　car。　It　startled　me　so　much　I　felt　the　hairs　on　the　back　of　my　head　stand　out　in　tiny　spikes。

　　I　pulled　out　into　the　empty　road　and　headed　back　the　way　I　had　come。　I　felt　slightly　unnerved；　as　if　I’d　just　descended　a　staircase　in　the　darkness　and　missed　the　bottom　few　steps。　My　immediate　priority　was　to　get　clear　of　those　trees。

　　Turn　around　where　possible。

　　I　stopped　the　Ford；　grabbed　the　navigation　system　in　both　hands；　and　twisted　and　yanked　it　at　the　same　time。　It　came　away　from　the　front　panel　with　a　satisfying　twang　of　breaking　cables；　and　I　tossed　it　into　the　foot　well　on　the　passenger’s　side。　At　the　same　time　I　became　aware　of　a　large　black　car　with　bright　headlights　coming　up　close　behind　me。　It　overtook　the　Ford　too　quickly　for　me　to　see　who　was　driving；　accelerated　up　to　the　junction；　and　disappeared。　When　I　looked　back；　the　country　lane　was　once　again　deserted。

　　It’s　curious　how　the　processes　of　fear　work。　If　I’d　been　asked　a　week　earlier　to　predict　what　I　might　do　in　such　a　situation；　I’d　have　said　that　I’d　drive　straight　back　to　Martha’s　Vineyard　and　try　to　put　the　whole　business　out　of　my　mind。　In　fact；　I　discovered；　Nature　mingles　an　unexpected　element　of　anger　in　with　fear；　presumably　to　encourage　the　survival　of　the　species。　Like　a　caveman　confronted　by　a　tiger；　my　instinct　at　that　moment　was　not　to　run；　it　was　somehow　to　get　back　at　the　supercilious　Emmett—the　sort　of　crazy；　atavistic　response　that　leads　otherwise　sane　householders　to　chase　armed　burglars　down　the　street；　usually　with　disastrous　results。

　　So　instead　of　sensibly　trying　to　find　my　way　back　to　the　interstate；　I　followed　the　road　signs　to　Belmont。　It’s　a　sprawling；　leafy；　wealthy　town　of　terrifying　cleanliness　and　orderliness—the　sort　of　place　where　you　need　a　license　just　to　keep　a　cat。　The　neat　streets；　with　their　flagpoles　and　their　four…by…fours；　slipped　by；　seemingly　identical。　I　cruised　along　the　wide　boulevards；　unable　to　get　my　bearings；　until　at　last　I　came　to　something　that　seemed　to　resemble　the　middle　of　town。　This　time；　when　I　parked　my　car；　I　took　my　suitcase　with　me。

　　I　was　on　a　road　called　Leonard　Street；　a　curve　of　pretty　shops　with　colored　canopies　set　against　a　backdrop　of　big　bare　trees。　One　building　was　pink。　A　coating　of　snow；　melted　at　the　edges；　covered　the　gray　roofs。　It　could　have　been　a　ski　resort。　It　offered　me　various　things　I　didn’t　need—a　real　estate　agent；　a　jeweler；　a　hairdresser—and　one　thing　I　did：　an　internet　café。　I　ordered　coffee　and　a　bagel　and　took　a　seat　as　far　away　from　the　window　as　I　could。　I　put　my　case　on　the　chair　opposite；　to　discourage　anyone　from　joining　me；　sipped　my　coffee；　took　a　bite　out　of　my　bagel；　clicked　on　Google；　typed　in　“Paul　Emmett”　＋　“Arcadia　Institution；”　and　leaned　toward　the　screen。

　　ACCORDING　TO　WWW。ARCADIAINSTITUTION。ORG；the　Arcadia　Institution　was　founded　in　August　1991　on　the　fiftieth　anniversary　of　the　first　summit　meeting　between　Prime　Minister　Winston　S。　Churchill　and　President　Franklin　D。　Roosevelt；　at　Placentia　Bay　in　Newfoundland。　There　was　a　photograph　of　Roosevelt　on　the　deck　of　a　U。S。　battleship；　wearing　a　smart　gray　suit；　receiving　Churchill；　who　was　about　a　head　shorter　and　dressed　in　some　peculiar　rumpled；　dark　blue　naval　outfit；　complete　with　a　cap。　He　looked　like　a　crafty　head　gardener　paying　his　respects　to　a　local　squire。

　　The　aim　of　the　institution；　the　website　said；　was　“to　further　Anglo…American　relations　and　foster　the　timeless　ideals　of　democracy　and　free　speech　for　which　our　two　nations　have　always　stood　in　times　of　peace　and　war。”　This　was　to　be　achieved　“through　seminars；　policy　programs；　conferences；　and　leadership　development　initiatives；”　as　well　as　through　the　publication　of　a　biannual　journal；　theArcadian　Review；　and　the　funding　of　ten　Arcadia　Scholarships；　awarded　annually；　for　postgraduate　research　into　“cultural；　political；　and　strategic　subjects　of　mutual　interest　to　Great　Britain　and　the　United　States。”　The　Arcadia　Institution　had　offices　in　St。　James’s　Square；　London；　and　in　Washington；　and　the　names　of　its　board　of　trustees—ex…ambassadors；　corporate　CEOs；　university　professors—read　like　the　guest　list　for　the　dullest　dinner　party　you　would　ever　endure　in　your　life。

　　Paul　Emmett　was　the　institution’s　first　president　and　CEO；　and　the　website　usefully　offered　his　life　in　a　paragraph：　born　Chicago　1949；　graduate　of　Yale　University　and　St。　John’s　College；　Cambridge　（Rhodes　scholar）；　lecturer　in　international　affairs　at　Harvard　University；　1975–79；　and　subsequently　Howard　T。　Polk　III　Professor　of　Foreign　Relations；　1979–91；　thereafter　the　founding　head　of　the　Arcadia　Institution；　president　emeritus　since　2007；　publications：Whither　Thou　Goest：　The　Special　Relationship　1940–1956；　The　Conundrum　of　Change　；Losing　Empires；　Finding　Roles：　Some　Aspects　of　US…UK　Relations　Since　1956　；The　Chains　of　Prometheus：　Foreign　Policy　Constraints　in　the　Nuclear　Age　；The　Triumphant　Generation：　America；　Britain；　and　the　New　World　Order；　Why　We　Are　in　Iraq　。　There　was　a　profile　inTime　magazine；　which　described　his　hobbies　as　squash；　golf；　and　the　operas　of　Gilbert　and　Sullivan；　“which　he　and　his　second　wife；　Nancy　Cline；　a　defense　analyst　from　Houston；　Texas；　regularly　call　upon　their　guests　to　perform　at　the　end　of　one　of　their　famous　supper　parties　in　the　prosperous　Harvard　bedroom　community　of　Belmont。”

　　I　worked　my　way　through　the　first　of　what　Google　promised　would　eventually　prove　to　be　thirty…seven　thousand　entries　about　Emmett　and　Arcadia：

　　Arcadia　Institution…Roundtable　on　Middle　East　PolicyThe　establishment　of　democracy　in　Syria　and　Iran…Paul　Emmettin　his　opening　address　stated　his　belief…www。arcadiainstitution。org/site/roundtable/A56fL％2004。htm　…　35k　…Cached　…Similar　pages

　　Arcadia　Institution…　Wikipedia；　the　free　encyclopediaTheArcadia　Institution　is　an　Anglo…American　nonprofit　organization　founded　in　1991　under　the　presidency　of　ProfessorPaul　Emmett　…

　　en。wikipedia。org/wiki/Arcadia　Institution…　35k　…Cached　…Similar　pages

　　Arcadia　Institution/ArcadiaStrategy　Group　…　Source　WatchTheArcadia　Institution　describes　itself　as　dedicated　to　fostering…ProfessorPaul　Emmett；　an　expert　in　Anglo…American…

　　www。sourcewatch。org/index。php？title=Arcadia　Institution…　39k　…Cached　…Similar　pages

　　USATODAY　…　5　Questions　forPaul　Emmett　Paul　Emmett；　former　professor　of　foreign　relations　at　Harvard；　now　heads　the　influentialArcadia　Institution　…

　　www。usatoday/？tab1。htm　…　35k　…Cached　…Similar　pages

　　When　I　got　bored　with　the　same　old　stuff　about　seminars　and　summer　conferences；　I　changed　my　search　request　to　“Arcadia　Institution”　＋　“Adam　Lang”　and　got　a　news　story　from　theGuardian　website　about　Arcadia’s　anniversary　reception　and　the　prime　minister’s　attendance。　I　switched　to　Google　Images　and　was　offered　a　mosaic　of　bizarre　illustrations：　a　cat；　a　couple　of　acrobats　in　leotards；　a　cartoon　of　Lang　blowing　into　a　bag　with　the　caption　“soon　to　be　humiliated。”　This　is　the　trouble　with　internet　research；　in　my　experience。　The　proportion　of　what’s　useful　to　what’s　dross　dwindles　very　quickly；　and　suddenly　it’s　like　searching　for　something　dropped　down　the　back　of　a　sofa　and　coming　up　with　handfuls　of　old　coins；　buttons；　fluff；　and　sucked　sweets。　What’s　important　is　to　ask　the　right　question；　and　somehow　I　sensed　I　was　getting　it　wrong。

　　I　broke　off　to　rub　my　aching　eyes。　I　ordered　another　coffee　and　another　bagel　and　checked　out　my　fellow　diners。　It　was　a　light　crowd；　considering　it　was　lunchtime：　an　old　fellow　with　his　paper；　a　man　and　woman　in　their　twenties　holding　hands；　two　mothers—or；　more　likely；　nannies—gossiping　while　their　three　toddlers　played　unheeded　under　the　table；　and　a　couple　of　young　guys　with　short…cropped　hair；　who　could　have　been　in　the　armed　forces　or　one　of　the　emergency　services；　perhaps　（I’d　seen　a　fire　station　nearby）；　sitting　on　stools　at　the　counter　with　their　backs　to　me；　engaged　in　earnest　conversation。

　　I　returned　to　the　Arcadia　Institution　website　and　clicked　on　the　board　of　trustees。　Up　they　all　came；　like　spirits　summoned　from　the　vasty　transatlantic　deep：　Steven　D。　Engler；　former　U。S。　defense　secretary；　Lord　Leghorn；　former　British　foreign　secretary；　Sir　David　Moberly；　GCMG；　KCVO；　the　thousand…year…old　former　British　ambassador　to　Washington；　Raymond　T。　Streicher；　former　U。S。　ambassador　to　London；　Arthur　Prussia；　president　and　CEO　of　the　Hallington　Group；　Professor　Mel　Crawford　of　the　John　F。　Kennedy　School　of　Government；　Dame　Unity　Chambers　of　the　Strategic　Studies　Foundation；　Max　Hardaker　of　Godolphin　Securities；　Stephanie　Cox　Morland；　senior　director　of　Manhattan　Equity　Holdings；　Sir　Milius　Rapp　of　the　London　School　of　Economics；　Cornelius　Iremonger　of　Cordesman　Industrials；　and　Franklin　R。　Dollerman；　senior　partner　of　McCosh　&　Partners。

　　Laboriously；　I　began　entering　their　names；　together　with　Adam　Lang’s；　into　the　search　engine。　Engler　had　praised　Lang’s　steadfast　courage　on　the　op…ed　page　of　theNew　York　Times。　Leghorn　had　made　a　hand…wringing　speech　in　the　House　of　Lords；　regretting　the　situation　in　the　Middle　East　but　calling　the　prime　minister　“a　man　of　sincerity。”　Moberly　had　suffered　a　stroke　and　was　saying　nothing。　Streicher　had　been　vocal　in　his　support　at　the　time　Lang　flew　to　Washington　to　pick　up　his　Presidential　Medal　of　Freedom。　I　was　starting　to　weary　of　the　whole　procedure　until　I　typed　in　Arthur　Prussia。　I　got　a　one…year…old　press　re