pzb.drawingblood-第44节

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Pumpkin　Center；　Climax　。　。　。　Deep　Gap；　Blowing　Rock；　Bat　Cave　。　。　。　Silk　Hope；　Fuquay…Varina　。　。　。　Missing　Mile？
　　Eddy　looked　back　at　the　newspaper　article。　Even　if　I　should　miss　everything　by　a　mile；　no；　cherie。　Missing　Mile；　N。C。
　　That　had　to　be　where　he　was。
　　But　why？　The　first　message　had　implied　he　was　going　on　to　New　York。　Why　had　he　decided　to　stay　in　the　South；　in　a　town　so　small　it　must　be　hard　to　hide　there？　And　why　was　he　so　sure　of　it　that　he　had　sent　her　a　message　spelling　out　its　name？
　　Eddy　had　a　sudden　flash　of　paranoia。　He's　met　someone。　For　an　instant　she　was　sure　of　it；　she　knew　it　was　true。　He's　met　someone　and　decided　to　stay　with　them；　three　days　after　telling　me　good…bye　forever。
　　But　that　was　silly。　There　was　no　way　she　could　know　that。　And　it　didn't　seem　very　likely　anyway。
　　Still　。　。　。　Missing　Mile；　North　Carolina？
　　She　sighed。　At　least　now　she　knew　where　he　was；　or　thought　she　did。　Probably　tomorrow's　paper　would　have　an　article　telling　her　he　was　happily　holed　up　in　the　East　Village。　For　now；　she　would　do　what　she　could。
　　Eddy　took　an　egg　out　of　the　carton　she'd　bought　and　inscribed　AGENT　COVER　on　it　in　large　block　letters。　Then　she　went　down　to　the　street；　took　careful　aim；　and　sent　the　egg　hurtling　toward　the　roof　of　her　building。
　　She　smiled　as　she　heard　a　faint　wet　splat　far　overhead；　and　imagined　the　egg　frying　on　the　hot　rooftop　just　as　Cover's　brain　must　be　sizzling　with　anger　that　Zach　had　eluded　him。
　　This　is　your　brain　on　voodoo；　she　thought。　Any　questions？
　　
　　In　his　cheerless　office　on　Poydras　Street；　Absalom　Cover　appeared　to　be　sitting　in　his　shirtsleeves　paging　through　an　old　Weekly　World　News；　but　in　truth　he　was　concentrating　on　the　Bosch　case。　Cover　knew　the　kid's　file　by　heart；　and　now　he　had　the　myriad　outpourings　of　Stefan　〃Phoetus〃　Duplessis　to　obsess　over　as　well。
　　Unfortunately；　though　Duplessis　had　proved　an　extremely　tender　nut　to　crack；　his　concrete　knowledge　about　Bosch　didn't　go　far　beyond　a　grudging　admiration　for　all　the　terrible　things　he　had　done。　There　was　a　Hacker　Code　of　Ethics；　Duplessis　explained；　consisting　of　four　sacred　laws：　Delete　nothing。　Move　nothing。　Change　nothing。　Learn　everything。
　　Zach　Bosch　blew　the　first　three　laws　to　hell　every　time　he　turned　his　puter　on。　Few　others　in　his　electronic　circle　knew　the　extent　of　Bosch's　crimes；　he　was　careful；　and　didn't　brag　as　pulsively　as　most　hackers。　He　had　entrusted　Stefan　Duplessis　with　some　of　this　information　because　Duplessis　was　a　better　hardware　techie；　and　could　tell　him…in　purely　theoretical　terms；　of　course；　probably　including　diagrams　of　the　theoretical　modifications…how　to　manipulate　his　system　to　even　greater　heights　of　deviousness。　（And　also；　Cover　suspected；　because　Duplessis　wasn't　above　a　little　bending　of　the　Hacker　Laws　himself。）　Some　of　the　exploits　he　credited　Bosch　with　were　so　extreme　that　the　other　agents　refused　to　believe　them。
　　Agent　Cover　believed。　He　was　beginning　to　understand　the　hacker　mindset。　It　required　nerves　of　steel　and　could　generate　feats　of　flamboyant　genius；　but　it　was　flawed。　It　was　megalomaniacal。　Eventually　it　would　slip　up　on　its　own　sheer　daring；　and　give　itself　away。
　　As　if　to　make　that　very　point；　Duplessis　had　also　told　them　about　the　article　Bosch　had　supposedly　planted　in　the　Times…Picayune。　〃Goddess　Seen　in　Bowl　of　Gumbo。〃　It　beat　anything　in　the　Weekly　World　News；　that　was　for　sure。　This　headline；　for　instance：　CLAM　OF　CATASTROPHE；　bannering　a　story　about　a　giant　shellfish　that　ate　deep…sea　divers；　or　some　such　shit。　What　sort　of　oxygen…deprived　mind　came　up　with　these　things？
　　Cover　closed　the　tabloid　wearily；　leaned　back　in　his　chair；　and　tugged　the　knot　of　his　tie　loose。　At　least　Bosch　had　some　imagination；　if　he　had　really　planted　that　story　in　the　Picayune。
　　The　other　hacker　swore　he　had；　though　the　reasons　he　gave　for　believing　so　were　flimsy　at　best。　He　just　〃knew〃　Bosch；　Duplessis　claimed；　this　was　just　his　〃style。〃　And　he　swore　up　and　down　that　the　girl　living　in　Bosch's　apartment；　Edwina　Sung；　had　nothing　to　do　with　any　of　it。　Agent　Cover　wondered。　Duplessis　had　obviously　known　Sung　at　least　long　enough　to　develop　a　sweaty…palmed；　hopeless　crush　on　her。
　　As　of　this　afternoon；　Sung's　records　revealed　a　bank　balance　of　just　over　three　thousand　dollars；　not　an　unreasonable　figure　for　a　young　Asian…American　who　could　afford　to　live　in　the　French　Quarter。　Most　likely　her　parents　were　in　some　lucrative　business　and　supported　her。　She　had　no　outstanding　credit　card　balances；　owed　no　taxes；　had　no　police　record；　her　employment　history　was　spotty。　Probably　she　was　just　another　scrap　of　bohemian　flotsam；　adrift　on　the　warm　alcoholic　seas　of　New　Orleans　subculture。
　　But　Zach　Bosch　meant　something　to　her。　That　much　had　been　plain　during　today's　raid。　They　might　be　acplices；　lovers；　or　even　blood　relations…in　an　old　school　ID　photo　they'd　found　overlooked　in　his　desk；　Bosch　appeared　extremely　young；　defiant；　and　faintly　Asian。　But　whatever　they　were；　Cover　thought　the　girl　cared　enough　about　Bosch　to　keep　track　of　his　movements　if　she　could。　Maybe　she　even　knew　where　he　was　now。　She　ought　to　be　questioned　again。
　　For　that　matter；　her　bank　records　should　be　examined　more　closely。　A　routine　balance　check　wasn't　good　enough　when　a　hacker　might　be　involved。　They　ought　to　get　records　of　all　her　transactions　for　the　past　month；　and　see　whether　she　had　made　any　large　deposits　or　withdrawals　in　the　last　couple　of　days。
　　Frank　Norton；　the　stocky　gray…haired　agent　who　had　the　next　cheerless　office　over；　came　in　and　dropped　a　greasy　brown　paper　bag　on　his　desk。　〃Here's　that　sandwich　you　wanted。〃
　　〃Tuna？〃
　　〃No。　Egg　salad。　It　was　all　the　cafeteria　had　left。　Don't　you　ever　go　home？〃
　　〃Sure。　I　stopped　by　a　couple　days　ago。　Thanks；　Spider。〃　Norton　had　had　the　nickname　since　his　days　with　the　DBA；　when　he'd　managed　to　get　bitten　by　a　tarantula　during　a　drug　raid　on　the　docks。　He　claimed　someone　had　thrown　it　on　him。　The　drug　runners　swore　the　huge　hairy　spiders　lived　inside　bunches　of　bananas；　every　fool　knew　that；　and　Norton　shouldn't　have　stuck　his　hand　in　those　bananas　even　if　there　were　five…pound　bags　of　cocaine　hidden　in　them。
　　Alone　again；　Cover　unwrapped　his　sandwich。　The　sulfurous　odor　of　boiled　eggs　in　mayonnaise　floated　up　to　him。　He　hated　egg　salad。　Eating　the　putrid　mush　anywhere　was　bad　enough；　eating　it　in　New　Orleans；　where　you　could　get　some　of　the　best　food　in　the　world；　was　almost　unbearable。　But　his　hands　were　shaking。　He　was　half…starved。
　　He　took　a　bite　of　the　sandwich；　and　a　generous　glob　of　egg　salad　oozed　out　from　between　the　slices　of　stale　brown　bread；　hung　precariously　for　a　moment；　then　fell。　It　left　a　long　curdy　streak　down　Agent　Cover's　tie　and　shirtfront。　When　he　tried　to　scoop　it　up；　half　of　it　plopped　onto　his　pants。
　　〃Shit；　shit；　shit。〃　He　crumpled　the　paper　bag　furiously；　hurled　it　in　the　direction　of　the　trash　can；　missed。　These　fancy　suits　he　had　to　wear　were　damned　expensive；　and　Cover　had　no　idea　whether　mayonnaise　would　stain　the　pants。　His　wife　would　know。　Maybe　he　should　go　home　for　a　while；　get　a　decent　meal。　He　could　deal　with　little　Ms。　Sung　tomorrow。
　　Fucking　eggs。　He　hated　them　anyway。
　　
　　　
　　　Chapter　Fifteen
　　
　　Let's　get　some　sheets；〃　said　Trevor。　〃That　mattress　is　pretty　dirty。〃
　　〃How　about　a　fan？〃
　　〃Yeah；　and　a　coffeepot。〃
　　Zach　smirked。　〃Gee；　I　feel　so　domestic。〃
　　〃Well；　if　you　don't　want　to　。　。　。〃　Trevor　looked　sidelong　at　Zach；　then　stared　at　the　floor　in　embarrassment。
　　〃Hey；　hey；　joking。　I've　never　set　up　housekeeping　with　anyone　before；　is　all。〃
　　〃It　makes　you　nervous？〃　A　small　line　appeared　between　Trevor's　brows　as　he　frowned。　It　seemed　to　cost　him　an　effort　to　understand　moods　and　motivations　that　would　have　been　immediately　obvious　to　most。　Zach　guessed　Trevor　was　probably　the　most　weirdly　socialized　person　he　had　ever　met。
　　〃It　makes　me　hyper。〃
　　〃Want　some　Excedrin？〃
　　That　was　Zach's　favorite　thing　about　weirdly　socialized　people：　anything　that　popped　into　their　heads　usually　made　it　out　of　their　mouths。　〃No　thanks；　I'm　fine；〃　he　said；　and　they　caught　each　other's　eye　and　started　laughing。
　　In　the　giddy　rush　that　followed　waking　and　more　fucking；　they　had　put　their　clothes　on　and　driven　downtown　with　the　idea　of　getting　something　to　eat。　Instead　they　had　wound　up　in　Potter's　Store；　wandering　the　dim；　dust…scented　aisles；　browsing　through　the　shelves　crammed　full　of　junk　and　plunder。
　　Zach　watched　Trevor's　hands　plunge　into　a　bin　of　fifty…cent　clothing；　sorting　out　only　the　black　items　and　quickly　discarding　them；　finally　selecting　a　single　plain　T…shirt。　Zach　thought　of　grasping　those　hands；　of　turning　them　over　and　kissing　the　palms。
　　But　Potter's　Store　was　full　of　old　rednecks；　mostly　the　reformed　drunks　from　the　Salvation　Army　who　ran　the　place。　Zach　supposed　they　were　used　to　trendy　kids　thrift…shopping；　but　he　had　no　desire　to　attract　extra　attention。　Hell；　these　people　weren't　just　Christians；　they　were　probably　Republicans。　If　the　right　kind　of　G…man　flashed　a　badge　at　them；　they'd　not　only　tell　him　anything　he　wanted　to　hear；　they'd　lick　his　assh