cc.floodtide-第83部分

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l。　The　dockyard　workers　were　a　good　possibility；　but　they　did　not　look　like　they　took　kindly　to　strangers。　He　began　focusing　on　the　fishermen。　A　number　of　them　were　sitting　at　munity　tables　pulled　together　and　playing　poker。　An　older　man；　in　what　Pitt　guessed　was　his　mid…sixties；　straddled　a　chair　nearby　but　did　not　join　in。　He　played　the　role　of　a　loner；　but　　there　was　a　humorous　and　friendly　gleam　in　his　blue…green　eyes。　His　hair　was　gray　and　matched　a　mustache　that　fell　and　met　a　beard　around　the　chin。　He　watched　the　others　as　they　tossed　their　money　on　the　poker　table　as　though　he　was　a　psychologist　studying　behavioral　patterns　of　laboratory　mice。　　　　　　　　
　
　The　waiter　brought　the　drinks；　no　tray；　a　glass　in　one　hand　　　　　　and　a　bottle　in　the　other。　Pitt　looked　up　and　asked；　〃What　brand　of　tequila　did　the　bartender　have？〃
　〃I　think　it's　called　Pancho　Villa。〃
　〃If　I　know　my　tequilas；　Pancho　Villa　es　in　a　plastic　bottle。〃
　The　waiter　twisted　his　lips　as　if　trying　to　dredge　up　a　vision　seen　many　years　previously。　Then　his　face　lit　up。　〃Yeah；　you're　right。　It　does　e　in　a　plastic　bottle。　Great　medicine　for　what　ails　you。〃
　〃Nothing　ails　me　at　the　moment；〃　said　Pitt。
　Giordino　came　as　close　to　a　smirk　as　he　could　get。　〃How　much　residue　lies　on　the　bottom　of　the　bottle；　and　how　much　does　it　cost？〃
　〃I　bought　a　bottle　in　the　Sonoran　Desert　during　the　Inca　Gold　project　for　a　dollar　sixty…seven；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃Is　it　safe　to　drink？〃
　Pitt　held　his　glass　up　to　the　light　before　taking　a　healthy　swallow。　Then　he　jokingly　crossed　his　eyes　and　said；　〃Any　port　in　a　storm。〃
　
　The　waiter　returned　from　the　kitchen　with　Giordino's　oysters　along　with　Pitt's　gumbo。　They　decided　on　a　main　course　of　jambalaya　and　catfish。　The　Gulf　oysters　were　so　large　that　Giordino　had　to　cut　them　apart　as　he　would　a　steak。　Pitt's　bowl　of　gumbo　would　have　satisfied　a　hungry　lion。　After　stuffing　their　stomachs　with　a　heaping　platter　of　jambalaya；　then　ordering　another　Dixie　beer　and　Pancho　Villa　tequila；　they　sat　at　the　table　and　loosened　their　belts。
　
　All　during　dinner；　Pitt　had　rarely　taken　his　eyes　off　the　old　man　observing　the　poker　players。　〃Who's　the　old　fellow　over　there　straddling　the　chair？〃　he　asked　the　waiter。　〃I　know　him　but　can't　place　where　we　met。〃
　The　waiter　swiveled　his　eyes　around　the　bar；　stopping　them　on　the　old　man。　〃Oh；　him。　He　owns　a　fleet　of　fishing　boats。
　Mostly　trawls　for　crab　and　shrimp。　Owns　a　big　catfish　farm；　too。　Wouldn't　know　it　to　look　at　him；　but　he's　a　wealthy　man。〃
　〃Do　you　know　if　he　charters　boats？〃
　〃Dunno。　You'll　have　to　ask　him。〃
　Pitt　looked　at　Giordino。　〃Why　don't　you　work　the　bar　and　see　if　you　can　learn　where　Qin　Shang　Maritime's　towboats　dump　their　trash？〃
　〃And　you？〃
　〃I'll　ask　about　the　dredging　operations　upriver。〃
　Giordino　nodded　silently　and　rose　from　the　table。　Soon　he　was　laughing　amid　several　fishermen；　regaling　them　with　inflated　stories　of　his　fishing　days　off　California。　Pitt　moved　over　to　the　old　fisherman　and　stood　beside　him。
　〃Excuse　me；　sir；　but　I　wonder　if　I　might　have　a　word　with　you。〃
　The　gray…bearded　man's　blue…green　eyes　slowly　examined　Pitt　from　his　belt　buckle　to　his　black　curly　hair。　Then　he　nodded　slowly；　rose　from　his　chair　and　motioned　Pitt　to　a　booth　in　one　corner　of　the　bar。　After　he　settled　in　and　ordered　another　beer；　the　fisherman　said；　〃What　can　I　do　for　you　Mr。。。。〃
　〃Pitt。〃
　〃Mr。　Pitt。　You're　not　from　around　the　bayou　country。〃
　〃No；　I'm　with　the　National　Underwater　and　Marine　Agency　out　of　Washington。〃
　〃You　doing　marine　research？〃
　〃Not　this　trip；〃　said　Pitt。　〃My　colleagues　and　I　are　cooperating　with　the　Immigration　Service　in　trying　to　stop　the　illegal　smuggling　of　aliens。〃
　The　old　man　pulled　a　cigar　stub　from　the　pocket　of　an　old　windbreaker　and　lit　it。　〃How　can　I　help？〃
　〃I　would　like　to　charter　a　boat　to　investigate　an　excavation　upriver…〃
　〃The　canal　dug　by　Qin　Shang　Maritime　for　landfill　at　Sung…ari？〃　the　fisherman　interrupted　knowledgeably。
　〃The　same。〃
　〃Not　much　to　see；〃　said　the　fisherman。　〃Except　a　big　ditch　where　the　Mystic　Bayou　used　to　be。　Folks　call　it　the　Mystic　Canal　now。〃
　〃I　can't　believe　it　took　that　much　fill　to　build　the　port；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃What　muck　dredged　from　the　canal　that　wasn't　used　for　landfill　was　barged　out　to　sea　and　dumped　out　in　the　Gulf；〃　answered　the　fisherman。
　〃Is　there　a　nearby　munity？〃　asked　Pitt。
　〃Used　to　be　a　town　called　Calzas　that　sat　at　the　end　of　the　bayou　a　short　ways　off　the　Mississippi　River。　But　it's　gone。〃
　〃Calzas　no　longer　exists？〃　asked　Pitt。
　〃The　Chinese　spread　the　word　that　they　was　doing　the　townspeople　a　service　by　providing　them　with　boating　access　to　the　Atchafalaya。　The　truth　is；　they　bought　out　the　landowners。　Paid　them　three　times　what　the　property　was　worth。　What's　left　standing　is　a　ghost　town。　The　rest　was　bulldozed　into　the　marsh。〃
　Pitt　was　confused。　〃Then　what　was　the　purpose　of　excavating　a　dead…end　canal　when　they　could　have　just　as　easily　dug　fill　anywhere　in　the　Atchafalaya　Valley？〃
　
　〃Everybody　up　and　down　the　river　is　curious　about　that；　too；〃　said　the　fisherman。　〃The　problem　is　that　friends　of　mine　who　have　fished　that　bayou　for　thirty　years　are　no　longer　wele。　The　Chinese　have　run　a　chain　across　their　new　canal　and　no　longer　give　access　to　fishermen。　Nor　hunters　either。〃
　
　〃Do　they　use　the　canal　for　barge　traffic？〃
　
　The　fisherman　shook　his　head。　〃If　you're　thinking　they　smuggle　illegal　aliens　up　the　canal；　you　can　forget　it。　The　only　towboats　and　barges　that　e　upriver　out　of　Sungari　turn　northwest　up　Bayou　Teche　and　stop　at　a　landing　beside　an　old　abandoned　sugar　mill　about　ten　miles　from　Morgan　City。　Qin　Shang　Maritime　bought　it　when　they　was　building　Sungari。　A　rail　yard　that　used　to　run　alongside　the　mill　was　restored　by　the　Chinese。〃
　
　〃Where　does　it　connect？〃
　〃To　the　main　Southern　Pacific　line。〃
　
　The　muddy　waters　were　beginning　to　clear。　Pitt　didn't　say　anything　for　several　moments　as　he　sat　there；　staring　off　into　space。　The　wake　he　had　observed　behind　the　Sung　Lien　Star　showed　an　unusual；　yet　defined　roll　beneath　the　churned　surface　that　was　not　normal　for　the　basic　hull　design　of　a　cargo　ship。　It　seemed　to　him　the　hull　either　displaced　more　water　than　was　consistent　with　the　ship's　design；　or　carried　a　second；　outer　hull。　In　his　mind　he　began　to　visualize　a　separate　vessel；　perhaps　a　submarine；　attached　to　the　keel　of　the　container　ship。　Finally　he　asked；　〃Is　there　a　name　for　the　landing？〃
　
　〃Used　to　be　called　Bartholomeaux　after　the　man　who　built　the　mill　back　in　nineteen…oh…nine。〃
　〃In　order　to　get　close　enough　to　check　out　Bartholomeaux　without　raising　suspicion；　I'll　need　to　charter　some　type　of　fishing　boat。〃
　The　old　fisherman　stared　across　the　table　at　Pitt　and　then　he　gave　a　little　shrug　and　smiled。　〃I　can　do　better　than　that。　What　you　fellows　need　is　a　shantyboat。〃
　〃A　shantyboat？〃
　〃Some　call　them　campboats。　People　use　them　to　wander　up　and　down　the　waterways；　mooring　in　the　bayous　beside　towns　or　farms　before　moving　on　again。　Often　they're　left　moored　in　the　same　location　and　used　as　vacation　cabins。　Not　many　people　live　full…time　on　them　anymore。〃
　〃A　shantyboat　must　be　like　a　houseboat；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃Except　a　houseboat　doesn't　usually　travel　about　under　its　own　power；〃　said　the　gray…bearded　fisherman。　〃But　I　have　a　boat　that's　livable　and　has　a　good　engine　tucked　away　inside　the　hull。　It's　yours　if　you　think　it's　suitable。　And　since　you　intend　to　use　it　for　the　good　of　the　country；　you　can　have　it　at　no　charge。　Just　so　long　as　you　bring　it　back　as　good　as　you　found　it。〃
　〃I　think　the　man　has　made　us　an　offer　we　can't　refuse；〃　said　Giordino；　who　had　wandered　over　from　the　bar　and　was　eavesdropping　on　the　conversation。
　〃Thank　you；〃　Pitt　said　sincerely。　〃We　accept。〃
　〃You'll　find　the　shantyboat　about　a　mile　up　the　Atchafalaya　tied　at　a　dock　on　the　left　bank　called　Wheeler's　Landing。　Nearby　is　a　small　boatyard　and　a　grocery　store　run　by　an　old　friend　and　neighbor；　Doug　Wheeler。　You　can　buy　your　provisions　from　him。　I'll　see　that　the　fuel　tank　is　filled。　If　anybody　questions　you；　just　say　you're　friends　of　the　Bayou　Kid。　That's　what　some　people　call　me　aroun