chiaasen.stormyweather-第32部分

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　〃I　could　use　a　cigaret。　Please；　captain。〃
　
　Skink　groped　in　his　coat　until　he　came　up　with　a　fresh　pack。　He　tossed　it；　along　with　a　lighter；　to　his　captive。
　
　Max　Lamb　was　embarrassed　that　he'd　so　quickly　bee　hooked　on　the　infamously　harsh　Broncos。　Around　the　agency　they　were　jokingly　known　as　Bron…chials；　such　was　their　killer　reputation　with　anti…smoking　zealots。　Max　attributed　his　hazardous　new　habit　to　severe　stress；　not　a　weakness　of　character。　In　the　advertising　business　it　was　essential　to　remain　immune　from　the　base　appetites　that　tyrannized　the　average　consumer。
　
　Skink　said：　〃What　else　have　you　to　show　for　yourself？〃
　
　〃I'm　not　sure　what　you　mean。〃
　
　〃Slogans；　tiger。　Besides　the　Plum　Crispies。〃
　
　〃Crunchies；〃　said　Max；　tightly。
　
　The　dock　shimmied　as　Skink　rose　to　his　feet。　Max　braced　himself　against　a　half…rotted　beam。　There　was　nowhere　to　go；　the　old　man　who　ferried　them　across　the　bay　had　snatched　Skink's　fifty　dollars　and　hastily　aimed　the　skiff　back　toward　the　mainland。
　
　Skink　swung　the　lantern　around　and　around　his　head。　Caught　in　the　erratic　strobe；　Max　said；　〃All　right；　captain；　here's　one：　'That　fresh　good…morning　feeling；　all　day　long。'〃
　
　〃Product　name？〃
　
　〃Intimate　Mist。〃
　
　〃No！〃　The　lantern　hissed　as　Skink　put　it　down。
　
　Max　tried　not　to　sound　defensive。　〃It's　a　feminine　hygiene'item。　Very　popular。〃
　
　〃The　raspberry　rinse！　Sweet　Jesus；　I　thought　you　were　joking。　This　is　the　sum　of　your　life　achievements…　douche　jingles？〃
　
　〃No；〃　Max　snapped。　〃Soft　drinks；　gasoline　additives；　laser　copiers…I've　worked　on　plenty　of　accounts。〃　He　wondered　what　had　impelled　him　to　mention　the　Intimate　Mist　campaign。　Was　it　an　unconscious　act　of　masochism；　or　carelessness　caused　by　fatigue？
　
　Skink　sat　heavily　on　the　porch；　which　was　canted　at　an　alarming　angle　toward　the　bay。　〃I　do　hear　a　boat；〃　he　said。
　
　Max　stared　curiously　across　the　water。　He　heard　nothing　but　the　slap　of　waves　and　the　scattered　piping　of　seagulls。　He　asked；　〃What　happens　now？〃
　
　There　was　no　reply。　Max　Lamb　saw；　in　the　yellow　flicker　of　the　lantern；　a　smile　cross　the　crazy　man's　face。
　
　〃You　seriously　don't　want　any　ransom？〃
　
　〃I　didn't　say　that。　Money　is　what　I　don't　want。〃
　
　〃Then　what？〃　Max　flicked　his　cigaret　into　the　water。　〃Tell　me　what　the　hell　it's　all　about。　I'm　sick　of　this　game；　I　really　am！〃
　
　Skink　was　amused　by　the　display　of　anger。　Maybe　there　was　hope　for　the　precious　little　bastard。　〃What　I　want；〃　he　said　to　Max　Lamb；　〃is　to　spend　some　time　with　your　wife。　She　intrigues　me。〃
　
　〃In　what　Way？〃
　
　〃Clinically。　Anthropologically。　What　in　the　world　does　she　see　in　you？　How　do　you　two　fit？〃　Skink　gave　a　mischievous　wink。　〃I　like　mysteries。〃
　
　〃If　you　touch　her…〃
　
　〃What　a　brave　young　stud！〃
　
　Max　Lamb　took　two　steps　toward　the　madman；　but　froze　when　Skink　raised　a　hand　to　his　own　throat。　The　collar！　Max　felt　a　hot　sizzle　shoot　from　his　scalp　down　the　length　of　his　spine。　Instantly　he　foresaw　himself　hopping　like　a　puppet。　Had　he　known　that　the　battery　in　the　Tri…Tronics　remote　control　had　been　dead　for　the　past　six　hours；　it　wouldn't　have　softened　his　reaction。　He　was　a　slave　to　his　subconscious。　He　had　e　to　understand　that　the　anticipation　of　pain　was　more　immobilizing　than　the　pain　itself…though　the　knowledge　didn't　help　him。
　
　When　Max　settled　down；　Skink　assured　him　he　had　no　carnal　interest　in　his　wife。　〃Christ；　I'm　not　trying　to　get　laid；　I'm　trying　to　figure　out　man's　place　in　the　food　chain。〃　His　long　arms　swept　an　arc　across　the　stars。　〃A　riddle　of　the　times；　Tourist　Boy。　Five　thousand　years　ago　we're　doodling　on　the　walls　of　caves。　Today　we're　writing　odes　to　fruit…flavored　douche。〃
　
　〃It's　a　job；〃　Max　Lamb　replied　petulantly。　〃Get　over　it。〃
　
　Skink　yawned　like　a　gorged　hyena。　〃That's　a　damn　big　engine　ing。　I　hope　your　Bonnie　wasn't　foolish　enough　to　call　the　police。〃
　
　〃I　warned　her　not　to。〃
　
　Skink　went　on：　〃My　opinion　about　your　wife　will　be　shaped　by　how　she　handles　this　situation。　Whom　she　brings。　Her　attitude。　Her　posure。〃
　
　Max　Lamb　asked　Skink　if　he　had　a　gun。　Skink　clicked　his　tongue　against　his　front　teeth。　〃See　the　running　lights？〃
　
　〃No。〃
　
　〃Toward　Key　Biscayne。　Over　there。〃
　
　〃Oh；　yeah。〃
　
　〃Two　engines；　it　sounds　like。　I'm　guessing　twin　Mercs。〃
　
　Somebody　aboard　the　boat　had　a　powerful　spotlight。　It　swept　back　and　forth　across　the　flats　of　Stiltsville。　As　the　craft　drew　nearer；　the　white　light　settled　on　the　porch　of　the　stilt　house。　Skink　seemed　unconcerned。
　
　He　began　to　remove　toads　from　his　pockets；　gray；　jowly；　scowling；　lump…covered　toads；　some　as　large　as　Idaho　potatoes。　Max　Lamb　counted　eleven。　Skink　lined　them　up　side　by　side　at　his　feet。　Max　had　nothing　to　add　to　the　scenario；　perhaps　it　was　all　a　dream；　beginning　with　the　mangy　hurricane　monkey；　and　soon　he'd　awaken　in　bed　with　Bonnie。。。。
　
　The　pudgy　Bufo　toads　began　to　squirm　and　huff　and　pee。　Skink　rebuked　them　with　a　murmur。　When　the　beam　of　the　speedboat's　spotlight　hit　them；　the　toads　blinked　their　moist　globular　eyes　and　jumped　toward　it。　One　by　one　they　leaped　off　the　dock　and　plopped　into　the　water。　Skink　hooted　mirthfully。　〃South；　boys！　To　Havana；　San　Juan；　wherever　the　hell　you　came　from！〃
　
　Max　watched　the　toads　disappear；　some　kicked　for　the　depths；　others　bobbed　on　the　foamy　crests　of　waves。　Max　didn't　know　what　would　happen　to　them；　nor　did　he　care。　They　were　just　ugly　toads；　and　barracudas　could　devour　them；　as　far　as　he　was　concerned。　His　only　interest　was　in　drawing　a　lesson　from　the　episode；　one　that　might　be　employed　to　handle　the　cyclopean　kidnapper。
　
　But　Skink　already　seemed　to　have　forgotten　about　the　Bufos。　Once　more　he　was　rhapsodizing　about　the　hurricane。　〃Look　at　Cape　Florida；　every　last　tree　flattened…　forest　to　moonscape　in　thirty　blessed　minutes！〃
　
　〃The　boat…〃
　
　〃You　ponder　that。〃
　
　〃It's　flashing　a　light　at　us…〃
　
　〃The　gorgeous　fury　inside　that　storm。　And　you　with　your　video　camera。〃　Skink　sighed　disappointedly。　〃'Sin　is　a　thing　that　writes　itself　across　a　man's　face。'　Oscar　Wilde。　I　don't　expect　you've　read　him。〃
　
　Max's　silence　affirmed　it。
　
　〃Well；　I've　been　waiting；〃　said　Skink；　〃to　see　it　written　across　your　face。　Sin。〃
　
　〃What　I　did　was　harmless；　OK？　Maybe　a　bit　insensitive；　but　harmless。　You've　made　your　point；　captain。　Let　me　go　now。〃
　
　The　speedboat　was　close　enough　to　see　it　was　metallic　blue　with　a　white　jagged　stripe；　like　a　lightning　bolt；　along　the　hull。　Two　figures　were　visible　at　the　console。
　
　〃There　she　is；〃　said　Max。
　
　〃And　no　cops。〃　Skink　waved　the　boat　in。
　
　One　of　the　figures　moved　to　the　bow　and　tossed　a　rope。　Skink　caught　it　and　tied　off。　As　soon　as　the　rope　came　tight；　the　twin　outboards　went　quiet。　The　current　nudged　the　stern　of　the　boat　against　the　pilings；　into　the　lantern's　penumbra。
　
　Max　Lamb　saw　that　it　was　Bonnie　on　the　bow。　When　he　called　her　name；　she　stepped　to　the　dock　and　hugged　him　in　a　nurselike　fashion；　consoling　him　as　if　he　were　a　toddler　with　a　skinned　knee。　Max　received　the　attention　with　manly　reserve；　he　was　conscious　of　being　watched　not　only　by　his　captor　but　by　Bonnie's　male　escort。
　
　Skink　smiled　at　the　reunion　scene；　and　slipped　back　into　the　shadows　of　the　stilt　house。　The　driver　of　the　boat　made　no　move　to　get　out。　He　was　young　and　broad…shouldered；　and　fortable　on　the　open　water。　He　wore　a　pale…blue　pullover；　cutoffs　and　no　shoes。　He　seemed　unaffected　by　navigating　a　pitch…black　bay　mined　with　overturned　hulls　and　floating　timbers。
　
　From　the　darkness；　Skink　asked　the　young　man　for　his　name。
　
　〃Augustine；〃　he　answered。
　
　〃You　have　the　ransom？〃
　
　〃Sure　do。〃
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　said：　〃Don't　worry；　he's　not　the　police。〃
　
　〃I　can　see　that；〃　came　Skink's　voice。
　
　The　boat　driver　stepped　to　the　gunwale。　He　handed　Bonnie　a　shopping　bag；　which　she　gave　to　her　husband；　who　handed　it　to　the　kidnapper　in　the　shadows。
　
　Max　Lamb　said：　〃Bonnie；　honey；　the　captain　wants　to　talk　to　you。　Then　he'll　let　me　go。〃
　
　〃I'm　considering　it；〃　Skink　said。
　
　〃Talk　to　me　about　what？〃
　
　Th