ch.doublewhammy-第58部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　〃Where　am　I？〃　Ellen　asked　thickly。
　〃Florida。〃
　〃I　musfve　got　sick…did　I　miss　it？〃
　〃Miss　what？〃　Jim　Tile　asked。
　〃Dickie's　funeral。〃
　〃Yes；　it's　over。〃
　〃Oh。〃　Ellen's　eyes　filled　up。
　Jim　Tile　said；　〃Dickie　was　a　friend　of　yours？〃
　〃Yes；　officer；　he　was。〃
　〃How　long　did　you　know　him？〃
　〃Not　long；〃　answered　Ellen　O'Leary；　〃just　a　few　days。　But　he　cared　for　me。〃
　〃When's　the　last　time　you　saw　him？〃
　Ellen　said；　〃Right　before　it　happened。〃
　〃The　murder？〃
　〃Yes；　officer。　I　was　up　in　the　hotel　with　him；　celebrating　after　the　bass　tournament；　when　Thomas　Curl　came　to　the　door　and　said　he　needed　to　see　Dickie　right　away。〃
　〃Then　what　happened；　Ellen？〃
　〃They　went　off　together　and　Dickie　didn't　e　back。　I　fell　asleep…we'd　had　an　awful　lot　of　champagne。　The　next　morning　I　heard　on　the　radio　what　happened。〃
　Jim　Tile　refilled　her　coffee　cup。　〃What　did　you　do　then？〃　he　asked。
　〃I　was　so　upset；　I　called　Reverend　Weeb；〃　she　said；　〃and　I　asked　him　to　say　a　prayer　for　Dickie's　soul。　And　Reverend　Weeb　said　only　if　I　came　over　and　knelt　down　with　him。〃
　〃I　bet　you　weren't　in　the　mood　for　that。〃
　〃Right；〃　Ellen　said。　She　didn't　understand　how　the　black　trooper　could　know　about　Reverend　Weeb's　strange　ways；　but　she　was　grateful　for　the　passion。
　Jim　Tile　opened　the　bedroom　door　and　asked　Decker　and　Lanie　to　e　in。
　〃Ellen；〃　he　said；　〃tell　Miss　Gault　who　came　and　got　Dickie　Lockhart　the　night　he　was　killed。〃
　〃Thomas　Curl；〃　said　Ellen　O'Leary。
　Lanie　looked　stricken。　〃Are　you　sure？〃
　〃I've　known　him　since　high　school。〃
　〃God；〃　Lanie　said　dejectedly。
　Ellen　tucked　an　extra　pillow　under　her　head。　〃I'm　feeling　lots　better；〃　she　said。
　〃Well；　I　feel　like　hell；〃　said　Lanie。
　The　phone　rang。　Jim　Tile　told　her　to　answer　it；　and　motioned　Decker　to　pick　up　the　kitchen　extension。
　The　caller　was　Dennis　Gault。
　〃Hi；〃　Lanie　said；　with　the　trooper　standing　very　close　behind　her。
　〃How's　it　going；　sis？〃　Gault　asked。
　〃Fine；〃　Lanie　said。　〃Ellen's　still　sleeping。〃
　〃Excellent。〃
　〃Dennis；　I'd　like　to　go　out；　catch　some　sun；　do　some　shopping。　How　much　longer　with　the　babysitting？〃
　〃Look；　Elaine；　I　don't　know。　The　cops　still　haven't　caught　Decker。〃
　〃Oh；　great。〃　Perfect　sarcasm。　Decker　listened　admiringly…she　really　could　have　been　a　star　of　stage　and　screen。
　〃What　if　they　don't　catch　him？〃　she　said。
　〃Don't　be　ridiculous。〃
　〃Dennis；　I　want　Tom　to　e　get　this　girl。〃
　〃Soon；〃　Gault　promised。　〃I　sent　him　down　to　Miami　on　some　business。　He'll　pick　up　Ellen　when　he　gets　back。　Relax；　wouldya；　sweet　thing？〃
　〃Miami；〃　Lanie　repeated。
　〃Yeah；〃　her　brother　said；　〃we're　getting　ready　for　the　big　tournament。〃
　〃Oh　boy；〃　said　Lanie；　thinking：　I　hope　you　drown；　you　murdering　bastard。
　
　The　fire　died　slowly；　and　as　it　did　Al　Garcia　poked　and　speared　the　embers　in　a　feeble　attempt　to　revive　the　flames。　Soon　a　gray　curling　mist　cloaked　the　lake　and　settled　over　the　detective's　shoulders　like　a　damp　shroud。　Small　creatures　scuttled　unseen　through　the　woods；　and　each　crackling　twig　reminded　Garcia　that　he　was　desperately　removed　from　his　element；　the　city。　Even　from　the　lake　there　were　noises…what；　he　couldn't　imagine…splashes　and　gurgles　of　all　dimensions。　Garcia　wondered　about　bears；　what　kind；　how　big。　The　weight　of　the　Colt　Python　under　his　arm　was　a　small　fort；　but　he　knew　the　gun　was　not　designed　to　kill　bears。　Garcia　was　no　outdoorsman；　his　main　exposure　to　the　wilderness　being　old　reruns　of　The　American　Sportsman。　Two　things　he　remembered　most　vividly　about　the　TV　show　were　ferocious　bears　the　size　of　Pontiacs；　and　convivial　campfire　scenes　where　all　the　men　slugged　down　beers　and　feasted　on　fresh　venison。　Garcia　seemed　to　recall　that　there　were　always　at　least　ten　heavily　armed　guys　around　Curt　Gowdy　at　the　camp；　plus　a　camera　crew。　And　here　he　was；　practically　all　alone　with　a　dead　fire。
　Halfheartedly　Garcia　collected　some　kindling　and　tossed　it　into　the　embers。　He　put　his　cigarette　lighter　to　the　pile；　but　the　wood　sparked　and　in　a　moment　went　cold。　The　detective　unscrewed　the　top　of　his　disposable　lighter　and　dumped　the　fluid　on　the　sticks。　Then　he　leaned　over　and　touched　a　match　to　the　fire；　which　promptly　blew　up　in　his　face。
　After　Garcia　picked　himself　off　the　ground；　he　sat　down　lugubriously　by　the　smoldering　campfire。　Gingerly　he　explored　his　face　and　found　only　minimal　damage…his　eyebrows　were　scorched　and　curlicued；　and　his　mustache　gave　off　an　acrid　smell。　Garcia　jumped　at　the　low　rumble　of　laughter…it　was　Skink；　hulking　in　the　doorway　of　the　shack。
　〃Honest　to　God；〃　the　big　man　said。　In　three　minutes　the　fire　was　ablaze　again。　Skink　made　coffee；　which　Garcia　accepted　gratefully。　There　was　something　odd　about　the　governor's　appearance；　and　it　took　the　detective　several　moments　to　figure　it　out。
　〃Your　eye；〃　he　said　to　Skink。
　〃What　of　it？〃
　A　new　eye　stared　from　the　socket　where　the　heavy　gauze　had　been　packed。　The　new　eye　was　strikingly　big；　with　a　starting　yellow　iris　and　a　pupil　as　large　as　a　half…dollar。　Garcia　couldn't　help　but　notice　that'the　new　eye　was　not　a　perfect　fit　for　the　hole　in　Skink's　face。
　〃Where　did　you　get　it？〃　Garcia　asked。
　〃Does　it　look　okay？〃
　〃Fine；〃　the　detective　said。　〃Very　nice。〃
　Skink　clomped　into　the　shack　and　came　back　with　a　stuffed　barn　owl；　an　erect；　imperious…looking　bird。　〃I　tie　this　on　the　roof　to　keep　the　crows　and　grackles　away；〃　he　said。　Admiring　the　taxidermied　owl　at　arm's　length；　Skink　said；　〃If　looks　could　kill。〃
　Garcia　asked；　〃Will　it　still　scare　the　birds？　With　one　eye；　I　mean。〃
　〃Hell；　yes；〃　Skink　said。　〃Even　more　so。　Just　look　at　that　vicious　flicker。〃
　The　owl's　frozen　gaze　was　still　fierce；　Garcia　had　to　admit。　And　Skink　himself　looked　exceptional；　while　his　new　eye　did　not　move　in　concert　with　its　mate；　it　still　manded　attention。
　〃I'll　give　it　a　try；〃　Skink　said；　and　put　on　his　sunglasses。
　After　they　finished　the　coffee；　Skink　got　the　Coleman　lantern　and　led　Garcia　down　to　the　water。　He　told　him　to　get　in　the　rowboat。　Garcia　shared　the　bow　with　an　old　tin　bucket；　a　nylon　castnet　folded　inside。　Skink　rowed　briskly　across　the　lake；　singing　an　old　rock　song　that　Garcia　vaguely　recognized：　No　one　knows　what　it's　like　to　be　the　bad　man；　to　be　the　sad　man　。。。　More　like　the　madman；　Garcia　said　to　himself。
　He　was　impressed　by　Skink's　energy；　after　the　savage　beating　he'd　taken。　The　wooden　boat　cut　the　water　in　strong　bolts；　Skink　pulling　at　the　oars　with　a　fervor　that　bordered　on　jubilation。　Truly　he　was　a　different　man　than　the　bloodied　heap　wheezing　in　the　back　seat　of　Garcia's　car。　If　the　pain　still　bothered　him；　Skink　didn't　show　it。　He　was　plainly　overjoyed　to　be　home；　and　on　the　water。
　After　twenty　minutes　Skink　guided　the　rowboat　into　a　cove　on　the　northern　shore；　but　he　didn't　break　his　pace。　With　his　good　eye　he　checked　over　his　shoulder　and　kept　a　course　for　the　mouth　of　a　small　creek　that　emptied　into　the　lake　between　two　prehistoric　live　oaks。　To　Garcia　the　creek　seemed　too　narrow　even　for　the　little　skiff；　yet　it　swallowed　them　easily。　For　fifty　yards　it　snaked　through　mossy　bottomland；　beneath　lightning…splintered　cypress　and　eerie　tangled　beards　of　Spanish　moss。　Garcia　was　awestruck　by　the　primordial　beauty　of　the　swamp　but　said　nothing；　afraid　to　disturb　the　silence。　Skink　had　long　stopped　singing。
　Eventually　the　creek　opened　to　a　blackwater　pond　rimmed　by　lily　pads　and　mined　with　rotting　stumps。
　Skink　removed　his　sunglasses　and　tucked　them　into　the　pocket　of　his　weathersuit。　He　turned　from　the　oars　and　motioned　for　the　cast…net。　Awkwardly　Garcia　handed　it　to　him；　the　lead　weights　were　heavy　and　unwieldly。　Standing　wide…legged；　Skink　clenched　the　string　in　his　teeth　and　hurled　the　net　in　a　smooth　low　arc；　it　opened　perfectly　and　settled　to　the　water　like　a　gossamer　umbrella。　When　he　dragged　the　net　back　into　the　boat；　it　was　spangled　with　fish；　flashing　in　the　mesh　like　pieces　of　a　shattered　mirror。　Skink　filled　the　tin　bucket　with　water　and　emptied　the　fish　into　it。　Then　he　refolded　the　net　and　sat　down；　facing　Al　Garcia。
　〃Golden　shiners；〃　he　announced。　Skink　plucked　one　out　of　the　bucket　and　swallowed　it　alive。
　Garcia　stared　at　him。　〃What　do　they　taste　like？〃　he　a