Smiley's People汉译94

agent124

“Oh, I’m afraid Signor Benati is fully involved right now. That’s the trouble with being international.”
“If you could tell him it’s Mr. Angel,” Smiley proposed in the same diffident style. “If you could just tell him that. Angel, Alan Angel, he does know me.”
He sat himself on the S-shaped sofa. It was priced at two thousand pounds and covered in protective cellophane, which squeaked when he moved. He heard her lift the phone and sigh into it.
“Got an angel for you,” she drawled, in her pillow-talk voice. “As in Paradise, got it, angel?”
A moment later he was descending a spiral staircase into darkness. He reached the bottom and waited. There was a click and half a dozen picture lights sprang on to empty spaces where no pictures hung. A door opened revealing a small and dapper figure, quite motionless. His full white hair was swept back with bravado. He wore a black suit with a broad stripe and shoes with pantomime buckles. The stripe was definitely too big for him. His right fist was in his jacket pocket, but when he saw Smiley he drew it slowly out and held it at him like a dangerous blade.
“Why, Mr. Angel,” he declared in a distinctly mid-European accent, with a sharp glance up the staircase as if to see who was listening. “What pure pleasure, sir. It has been far too long. Come in, please.”
“哦，恐怕比纳蒂先生现在正忙着呢。这就是跨国企业的麻烦。”
“请告诉他安吉尔先生找他，”斯迈利保持谦卑的态度说道。“请跟他说。安吉尔，艾伦·安吉尔，他确实认识我。”
他坐在S形沙发上。沙发售价两千英镑，上面覆盖着玻璃纸保护，他一动，玻璃纸就吱吱作响。他听到她拿起电话，对着电话叹了口气。
“给你找了个天使（安吉尔这个名字的英语原文有天使的意思——译注），”她用床头悄悄话的口气说。“就是天堂里的那种，明白吗，天使？”
片刻之后，他沿着螺旋楼梯下楼，眼前一片漆黑。他到达底部，等待着。咔嚓一声，六个画灯在没有挂画的空地上亮了起来。一扇门打开了，露出一个潇洒的小个子，站着一动不动。他的满头白发向后梳着，显得十分张扬。他穿着带宽条纹的黑色西服，鞋子上有几个装饰性的纽扣，圣诞童话剧里常见的那种。条纹对他来说绝对太宽了。他右手叉在上衣口袋里，但看到斯迈利时，慢慢地把手抽了出来，像一把危险的利刃一样对着斯迈利。
“怎么了，安吉尔先生，”他用明显的中欧口音说，同时猛地往楼梯上看了一眼，似乎想看看谁在听。“真是太高兴了，先生。好久不见。请进。”

They shook hands, each keeping his distance.
“Hullo, Mr. Benati,” Smiley said, and followed him to an inner room and through it to a second, where Mr. Benati closed the door and gently leaned his back against it, perhaps as a bulwark against intrusion. For a while after that, neither man spoke at all, each preferring to study the other in a silence bred of mutual respect. Mr. Benati’s eyes were brown and they looked nowhere long and nowhere without a purpose. The room had the atmosphere of a sleazy boudoir, with a chaise longue and a pink hand-basin in one corner.
“So how’s trade, Toby?” Smiley asked.
Toby Esterhase had a special smile for that question and a special way of tilting his little palm.
“We have been lucky, George. We had a good opening, we had a fantastic summer. Autumn, George”—the gesture again—“autumn I would say is on the slow side. One must live off one’s hump actually. Some coffee, George? My girl can make some.”
“Vladimir’s dead,” said Smiley after another longish gap. “Shot dead on Hampstead Heath.”
“Too bad. That old man, huh? Too bad.”
“Oliver Lacon has asked me to sweep up the bits. As you were the Group’s postman, I thought I’d have a word with you.”
“Sure,” said Toby agreeably.
“You knew, then? About his death?”
“Read it in the papers.”
他们握了握手，各自保持着距离。
“你好，比纳蒂先生，”斯迈利说，然后跟着他来到一间内室，穿过内室又来到第二间房间，比纳蒂先生关上了门，轻轻地把背靠在门上，也许是为了防止有人闯入。在那之后的一段时间里，两个人都没有说话，都愿意怀着敬意在沉默中揣摩对方。比纳蒂先生的眼睛是棕色的，无时无刻不在注视着远方。房间给人一种邋遢闺房的感觉，放着一张贵妃椅，角落里还有一个粉红色的洗手池。
“生意怎么样，托比？” 斯迈利问道。
托比·埃斯特哈斯听到这个问题，露出微笑，他笑的方式很特别，他的小手做手势的方式也很特别。
“我们一直都很幸运，乔治。我们有一个好的开始，我们有一个非常棒的夏天。秋天，乔治“——又是同样的手势——”我得说，秋天的生意要清淡一些。实际上就和骆驼一样，要靠储存在驼峰里的营养过日子了。要咖啡吗，乔治？可以让小姑娘去煮。”
“弗拉基米尔死了，”斯迈利又隔了很久才说。“在汉普斯特德石南园被枪杀了。”
“太遗憾了。那个老头，嗯？太糟了。”
“奥利弗·拉康让我来收拾残局。因为你是小组的邮递员，我想和你谈谈。”
“当然可以。”托比表示同意。
“那你知道了？他的死讯？”
“在报纸上看到的。”