jg.thepelicanbrief-第36部分

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or　a　few　days。　If　you　see　her；　or　hear　anything；　drop　one　of　these。〃
　　
　　〃Sure。　There　was　a　cop　in　last　night　asking　questions。　You　don't　think　she　was　involved　in　his　death？〃
　　
　　〃No；　not　at　all。　We　just　need　to　talk　to　her。〃
　　
　　〃I'll　keep　my　eyes　open。〃　
　　
　　Verheek　paid　for　the　beer；　thanked　the　kid　again；　and　was　on　the　sidewalk。　He　walked　three　blocks　to　the　Half　Shell。　It　was　almost　two。　He　was　dead　tired；　half　drunk；　and　a　band　cranked　up　the　second　he　walked　through　the　door。　The　place　was　dark；　packed；　and　fifty　fraternity　joes　with　their　sorority　sues　were　immediately　dancing　on　tables。　He　weaved　through　the　uprising　and　found　safety　in　the　back　near　the　bar。　They　were　three　deep；　shoulder　to　shoulder；　and　no　one　moved。　He　clawed　his　way　forward；　got　a　beer　to　be　cool；　and　realized　again　he　was　by　far　the　oldest　one　there。　He　retreated　to　a　dark　but　crowded　corner。　It　was　hopeless。　He　couldn't　hear　himself　think；　let　alone　carry　on　a　conversation。　
　　
　　He　watched　the　bartenders：　all　young；　all　students。　The　oldest　looked　late　twenties；　and　he　rang　up　check　after　check　as　if　he　was　closing　out。　His　moves　were　hurried；　as　if　it　was　time　to　go。　Gavin　studied　every　move。　
　　
　　He　quickly　untied　his　apron；　flung　it　in　a　corner；　ducked　under　the　bar；　and　was　gone。　Gavin　elbowed　through　the　mob；　and　caught　him　as　he　stepped　through　the　kitchen　door。　He　had　an　FBI　business　card　ready。　〃I'm　sorry。　I'm　with　the　FBI。〃　He　stuck　the　card　in　his　face。Your　name　is？〃　
　　
　　The　kid　froze；　and　looked　wildly　at　Verheek。　〃Uh；　Fountain。　Jeff　Fountain。〃
　　
　　〃Fine；　Jeff。　Look；　nothing's　wrong；　okay？　Just　a　couple　of　questions。〃　The　kitchen　had　shut　down　hours　ago；　and　they　were　alone。Just　take　a　second。〃
　　
　　〃Well；　okay。　What's　up？〃
　　
　　〃You're　a　law　student；　right？〃　Please　say　yes。　His　friend　said　most　of　the　bartenders　here　were　law　students。
　　
　　〃Yes。　At　Loyola。〃　
　　
　　〃Loyola！　Where　the　hell！　Yeah；　well；　that's　what　I　thought。　You've　heard　about　Professor　Callahan　at　Tulane。　Funeral's　tomorrow。〃
　　
　　〃Sure。　It's　all　over　the　papers。　Most　of　my　friends　go　to　Tulane。〃
　　
　　〃Do　you　know　a　second…year　student　there　by　the　name　of　Darby　Shaw？　Very　attractive　female。〃　
　　
　　〃Fountain　smiled。Yeah；　she　dated　a　friend　of　mine　last　year。　She's　in　here　occasionally。〃
　　
　　〃How　long　ago？〃
　　
　　〃It's　been　a　month　or　two。　What's　wrong？〃
　　
　　〃We　need　to　talk　to　her。〃　He　handed　Fountain　a　stack　of　cards。Hang　on　to　these。　I'll　be　at　the　Hilton　for　a　few　days。　If　you　see　her　around；　or　if　you　hear　anything；　drop　one　of　these。〃
　　
　　〃What　might　I　hear？〃
　　
　　〃Something　about　Callahan。　We　need　to　see　her　real　bad；　okay？〃
　　
　　〃Sure。〃　He　stuck　the　cards　in　a　pocket。　
　　
　　Verheek　thanked　him　and　returned　to　the　revelry。　He　inched　through　the　mob；　listening　to　the　attempts　at　conversation。　A　fresh　mob　was　entering；　and　he　wrestled　his　way　out　the　door。　He　was　too　old　for　this。　
　　
　　Six　blocks　away；　he　parked　illegally　in　front　of　a　fraternity　house　next　to　the　campus。　His　last　stop　for　the　night　would　be　a　dark　little　pool　hall；　which；　at　the　moment；　was　not　crowded。　He　paid　for　beer　at　the　bar；　and　surveyed　the　place。　There　were　four　pool　tables　and　the　action　was　light。　A　young　man　in　a　T…shirt　walked　to　the　bar　and　ordered　another　beer。　The　shirt　was　green　and　gray　with　the　words　TULANE　LAW　SCHOOL　stamped　across　the　front　with　what　appeared　to　be　an　inmate　identification　number　under　the　words。　
　　
　　Verheek　spoke　without　hesitating。　〃You　a　law　student？〃　
　　
　　The　young　man　glanced　at　him　while　pulling　money　from　his　jeans。　〃Afraid　so。〃
　　
　　〃Did　you　know　Thomas　Callahan？〃
　　
　　〃Who　are　you？〃
　　
　　〃FBI。　Callahan　was　a　friend　of　mine。〃　
　　
　　The　student　sipped　the　beer　and　was　suspicious。　〃I　was　in　his　con　law　class。〃　
　　
　　〃Bingo！　So　was　Darby。　Verheek　tried　to　appear　uninterested。　〃Do　you　know　Darby　Shaw？〃
　　
　　〃Why　do　you　want　to　know？〃
　　
　　〃We　need　to　talk　to　her。　That's　all。〃
　　
　　〃Who　is　we？〃　The　student　was　even　more　suspicious。　He　took　a　step　closer　to　Gavin　as　if　he　wanted　some　hard　answers。
　　
　　〃FBI；〃　Verheek　said　nonchalantly。
　　
　　〃You　got　a　badge　or　something？〃
　　
　　〃Sure；〃　he　said　as　he　pulled　a　card　from　his　pocket。　The　student　read　it　carefully；　then　handed　it　back。　〃You're　a　lawyer；　not　an　agent。〃　
　　
　　This　was　a　very　valid　point；　and　the　lawyer　knew　he　would　lose　his　job　if　his　boss　knew　he　was　asking　questions　and　in　general　impersonating　an　agent。　〃Yes；　I'm　a　lawyer。　Callahan　and　I　were　in　law　school　together。〃
　　
　　〃Then　why　do　you　want　to　see　Darby　Shaw？〃　
　　
　　The　bartender　had　eased　closer　and　was　eavesdropping。
　　
　　〃Do　you　know　her？〃
　　
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　the　student　said；　and　it　was　obvious　he　did　in　fact　know　her　but　was　not　about　to　talk。　〃Is　she　in　trouble？〃
　　
　　〃No。　You　know　her；　don't　you？〃
　　
　　〃Maybe。　Maybe　not。〃
　　
　　〃Look；　what's　your　name？〃
　　
　　〃Show　me　a　badge；　and　I'll　tell　you　my　name。〃　
　　
　　Gavin　took　a　long　drink　from　the　bottle　and　smiled　at　the　bartender。　〃I　need　to　see　her；　okay。　It's　very　important。　I'll　be　at　the　Hilton　for　a　few　days。　If　you　see　her；　ask　her　to　call。〃　He　offered　the　card　to　the　student；　who　looked　at　it　and　walked　away。　
　　
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　　AT　THREE；　he　unlocked　the　door　to　his　room；　and　checked　the　phone。　No　messages。　Wherever　Darby　was；　she　still　had　not　called。　Assuming；　of　course；　she　was　still　alive。　
　　
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　　GARCIA　CALLED　for　the　last　time。　Grantham　took　the　call　before　dawn　Saturday；　less　than　two　hours　before　they　were　to　meet　for　the　first　time。　He　was　backing　out；　he　said。　The　time　was　not　right。　If　the　story　broke；　then　some　very　powerful　lawyers　and　their　very　rich　clients　would　fall　hard；　and　these　people　were　not　accustomed　to　falling；　and　they　would　take　people　with　them。　And　Garcia　might　get　hurt。　He　had　a　wife　and　little　daughter。　He　had　a　job　that　he　could　endure　because　the　money　was　great。　Why　take　chances？　He　had　done　nothing　wrong。　His　conscience　was　clear。
　　
　　〃Then　why　do　you　keep　calling　me？〃　Grantham　asked。
　　
　　〃I　think　I　know　why　they　were　killed。　I'm　not　certain；　but　I've　got　a　good　idea。　I　saw　something；　okay。〃
　　
　　〃We've　had　this　conversation　for　a　week　now；　Garcia。　You　saw　something；　or　you　have　something。　And　it's　all　useless　unless　you　show　it　to　me。〃　Grantham　opened　a　file　and　took　out　the　five　by　sevens　of　the　man　on　the　phone。You're　driven　by　a　sense　of　morality；　Garcia。　That's　why　you　want　to　talk。〃
　　
　　〃Yeah；　but　there's　a　chance　they　know　that　I　know。　They've　been　treating　me　funny；　as　if　they　want　to　ask　if　I　saw　it。　But　they　can't　ask　because　they're　not　sure。〃
　　
　　〃These　are　the　guys　in　your　firm？〃
　　
　　〃Yeah。　No。　Wait。　How'd　you　know　I　was　in　a　firm？　I　haven't　told　you　that。〃
　　
　　〃It's　easy。　You　go　to　work　too　early　to　be　a　government　lawyer。　You're　in　one　of　those　two…hundred…lawyer　firms　where　they　expect　the　associates　and　junior　partners　to　work　a　hundred　hours　a　week。　The　first　time　you　called　me　you　said　you　were　on　the　way　to　the　office；　and　it　was　something　like　5　A。M。〃
　　
　　〃Well；　well；　what　else　do　you　know？〃
　　
　　〃Not　much。　We're　playing　games；　Garcia。　If　you're　not　willing　to　talk；　then　hang　up　and　leave　me　alone。　I'm　losing　sleep。〃
　　
　　〃Sweet　dreams。〃　Garcia　hung　up。　Grantham　stared　at　the　receiver。　
　　
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　　THREE　TIMES　in　the　past　eight　years　he　had　unlisted　his　phone　number。　He　lived　by　the　phone；　and　his　biggest　stories　came　out　of　nowhere　over　the　phone。　But　after　or　during　each　big　one；　there　had　been　a　thousand　insignificant　ones　from　sources　who　felt　pelled　to　call　at　all　hours　of　the　night　with　their　hot　little　morsels。　He　was　known　as　a　reporter　who　would　face　a　firing　squad　before　revealing　a　source；　so　they　called　and　called　and　called。　He'd　get　sick　of　it；　and　get　a　new；　unlisted　number。　Then　hit　a　dry　spell。　Then　rush　to　get　back　in　the　B。C。　directory。　
　　
　　He　was　there　now。　Gray　S。　Grantham。　The　only　one　in　the　book。