p&c.brimstone-第28节

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　〃Firmer　measures　might　be　in　order。〃　
　D'Agosta　wondered　what　Pendergast's　idea　of　〃firmer〃　was。　
　Pendergast　slowed　the　Rolls　and；　turning　to　a　custom…built　cherrywood　bay　beside　the　driver's　seat；　tapped　on　the　keys　of　the　laptop　set　within　it。　They　were　approaching　the　chain…link　gate　leading　into　the　marina's　general　parking　area；　but　the　man　in　the　guardhouse　had　seen　the　Rolls　approaching　and　was　already　opening　the　gate。　Pendergast　stopped　the　car　just　inside　the　lot；　where　they　had　a　good　view　of　the　Upper　Bay。　On　the　screen　of　the　laptop；　the　image　of　a　magnificent　yacht　had　appeared。　
　It　didn't　take　long　to　locate　the　real　thing　among　the　forest　of　masts　and　spars　riding　at　anchor　just　beyond　the　lot。　
　D'Agosta　whistled。　〃That's　some　boat。〃　
　〃Indeed。　A　2003　Feadship　motor　yacht　with　a　de　Voogt　custom…designed　hull。　Fifty…two　meters　in　length；　with　a　displacement　of　seven　hundred　and　forty　metric　tons。　Twin　Caterpillar　2；500…horsepower　diesels；　cruising　speed　thirty　knots。　It's　got　enormous　range　and　it's　extremely　fortable。〃　
　〃How　much？〃　
　〃Bullard　paid　forty…eight　million　for　it。〃　
　〃Jesus。　What　does　he　need　a　boat　like　that　for？〃　
　〃Perhaps　he　doesn't　care　for　flying。　Or　perhaps　he　likes　to　operate　away　from　prying　ears　and　eyes。　A　boat　like　that　makes　keeping　to　international　waters　easy　indeed。〃　
　〃Funny；　in　the　last　interview　with　Bullard；　I　had　the　impression　that　he　was　anxious　not　to　be　detained　in　the　country。　That　maybe　he　was　planning　an　international　trip。〃　
　Pendergast　looked　at　him　sharply。　〃Indeed？〃　He　eased　the　car　toward　the　second　layer　of　security：　the　gate　into　VIP　parking；　manned　by　a　pugnacious　little　redheaded　security　guard　with　a　jutting　chin。　D'Agosta　immediately　knew　the　type。　He　was　the　kind　who　made　it　a　point　not　to　be　impressed　by　anyone　or　anything：　not　even　a　'59　Rolls…Royce　Silver　Wraith。　
　〃Yeah？〃　
　Pendergast　hung　his　shield　out　the　window。　〃We're　here　to　see　Mr。　Locke　Bullard。〃　
　The　man　looked　at　the　badge；　looked　back　at　Pendergast。　His　face　was　creased　with　suspicion。　〃And　him？〃　
　D'Agosta　passed　his　own　badge　to　the　man。　
　〃What's　it　about？〃　
　〃Police　business。〃　
　〃I　gotta　call。〃　
　The　man　took　the　shields　back　into　his　cubicle；　got　on　the　horn；　spoke　for　a　few　minutes；　came　back　with　the　badges　and　a　cordless　phone。　
　〃He　wants　to　talk　to　somebody　named　D'Agosta。〃　
　〃That's　me。〃　
　The　man　handed　him　the　phone。　
　〃D'Agosta　here。〃　
　Bullard's　deep　voice　filled　the　wire。　〃I　figured　you'd　be　back。〃　
　At　the　sound　of　the　voice；　D'Agosta　immediately　felt　himself　bristle。　This　was　the　man　who　had　tried　to　humiliate　him　at　the　Athletic　Club；　who；　just　perhaps；　had　very　nearly　gotten　him　shot。　Nevertheless；　he　tried　hard　to　check　his　temper。　〃We　can　either　do　this　nicely；〃　he　said　as　evenly　as　possible；　〃or　it　can　get　unpleasant。　Up　to　you；　Bullard。〃　
　A　burst　of　laughter　sounded　at　the　other　end。　〃You　tried　that　same　stale　line　on　me　back　at　the　club。　Let　me　tell　you　something。　Since　we　had　that　pleasant　little　chat；　I've　had　my　people　check　into　you。　And　now　I　know　all　about　you。　I　got　every　sordid　detail　of　your　existence。　For　example；　I　know　all　about　that　wife　of　yours　in　Canada；　the　one　who's　been　playing　hide　the　salami　behind　your　back　these　past　six　months。　The　guy's　name　is　Chester　Dominic；　and　he　sells　Winnebagos　out　of　Edgewater…and　hey；　maybe　she's　doing　him　right　now。　Think　aboutthat　；　huh？〃　
　D'Agosta's　hand　tightened　around　the　phone。　
　〃I　also　got　the　sales　figures　on　your　novels。　Last　one　sold　6；215　copies。　Hardcoverand　paperback。　And　that's　counting　all　the　copies　your　mother　bought。　Watch　your　back；　Stephen　King！〃　More　harsh　laughter。　〃Then　I　got　your　personnel　files　from　your　stint　with　the　NYPD；　including　your　disciplinary　records。　Interesting　reading。　And　I　got　your　medical　and　psychiatric　records；　too；　even　the　ones　from　Canada。　Too　bad　about　those　hard…on　problems。　Maybe　that's　why　your　wife's　spreading　her　charms　for　old　Chet。　And　depression；　gee；　that's　tough。　Did　you　take　your　Zoloft　this　morning？　Amazing　what　you　can　find　out　when　you　own　an　HMO；　isn't　it？　Reading　all　this　over；　a　couple　of　phrases　e　to　mind。　Phrases　like　broken…down。　Washed…up。　Loser。〃　
　A　thin　curtain　of　red　seemed　to　drop　before　D'Agosta's　eyes。　〃You've　just　made　the　mistake　of　your　life；　Bullard。〃　
　More　laughter　and　the　line　went　dead。　
　D'Agosta　handed　the　phone　back　to　the　attendant。　His　face　was　on　fire。　The　son　of　a　bitch。　The　son　of　abitch　。　It　was　illegal…wasn't　it？　Digging　up　that　kind　of　personal　information。　Bullard　had　been　speaking　loudly；　and　D'Agosta　wondered　if　his　voice　had　carried　as　far　as　Pendergast。　He　swallowed；　fought　hard　to　master　his　rising　rage。　
　〃You're　blocking　the　gate；〃　said　the　man　in　the　booth。　Then；　as　an　afterthought；　he　added；　〃Sir。〃　
　〃We'll　drive　around　the　block；〃　Pendergast　told　the　attendant；　〃and　give　Mr。　Bullard　time　to　change　his　mind。〃　
　〃He's　not　going　to　change　his　mind。〃　
　Pendergast　gave　the　attendant　a　long；　sympathetic　look。　〃You'll　know　when　to　step　aside；　I　hope？　For　your　own　sake；　of　course。〃　
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　
　Without　waiting　for　an　answer；　Pendergast　put　the　Rolls　in　reverse　and　hit　the　gas；　leaving　a　satisfying　patch　of　rubber。　He　turned　around　in　the　parking　lot；　then　nosed　out　onto　State　Street。　He　glanced　over　at　D'Agosta。　〃Are　you　all　right；　Vincent？〃　
　〃I'm　fine；〃　D'Agosta　said　through　gritted　teeth。　
　Pendergast　turned　right　and　began　circling　the　block。　〃Mr。　Bullard；　it　seems；　needs　a　firmer　hand。〃　
　〃Yeah。〃　
　Pendergast　reached　down　with　one　hand　and　punched　in　a　number　on　the　in…dash　cell　phone。　
　A　ring　sounded　over　the　speaker；　then　the　phone　was　answered　by　a　familiar　voice。　〃Captain　Hayward。〃　
　〃Captain？　It's　Pendergast。　We're　going　to　need　that　subpoena　and　warrant　I　called　you　about　this　morning。〃　
　〃On　what　grounds？〃　
　〃Refusal　to　cooperate。　Imminent　flight　risk。〃　
　〃e　on。　Bullard's　not　some　Colombian　drug　dealer　or　Middle　Eastern　terrorist。　He's　a　leading　American　industrialist。〃　
　〃Yes；　with　overseas　accounts　and　overseas　factories；　who　happens　to　be　on　his　yacht；　fueled　to　its　maximum　capacity　and　fully　stocked　for　a　transatlantic　voyage。　He　can　reach　Canada；　Mexico；　South　America；　or　Europe　on　one　tank…take　your　pick。〃　
　There　was　a　sigh。　〃He's　an　American。　He's　got　a　passport。　He's　free　to　leave。〃　
　〃He's　an　uncooperative　witness。　He　won't　answer　questions。〃　
　〃A　lot　of　people　won't　answer　questions。〃　
　〃Both　Grove　and　Cutforth　called　him　just　before　they　were　murdered。　There's　a　connection；　and　we　need　to　find　it。〃　
　Another　irritated　sigh。　〃This　is　just　the　kind　of　irregular　operation　that　looks　bad　in　court。〃　
　〃He　threatened　Sergeant　D'Agosta。〃　
　〃He　did？〃　Her　voice　sounded　a　little　sharper。　
　〃An　implied　blackmail　threat　over　personal　information　he　collected　through　Northern　HealthAtlantic　Management；　the　HMO　he　owns。〃　
　So　he　did　hear；　D'Agosta　thought。　
　〃That　right？〃　There　was　a　pause。　〃All　right；　then；　go　ahead。　The　papers　are　all　ready　and　just　need　to　be　signed。〃　
　〃Excellent。〃　Pendergast　gave　a　fax　number。　
　〃Agent　Pendergast？〃　
　〃Yes？〃　
　〃Don't　make　a　hash　of　this。　I　care　about　my　career。〃　
　〃I　care　about　it；　too。〃　
　The　fax　peeled　out　of　the　tiny　impact　printer　just　as　they　rounded　Pearl　Street　and　headed　back　toward　the　yacht　harbor。　Driving　slowly　through　the　outer　lot；　Pendergast　tore　it　from　the　printer　and　handed　it　to　the　VIP　attendant。　
　〃You　again？〃　the　man　said　as　he　took　the　fax。　
　Pendergast　smiled；　put　his　fingers　to　his　lips。　〃Not　a　word　to　Bullard。〃　
　The　man　read　the　fax；　handed　it　back。　There　was　something　in　his　face　that；　perhaps；　didn't　look　entirely　displeased　at　the　turn　of　events。　
　〃Time　to　step　aside；〃　said　Pendergast　quietly。　
　〃Yes；　sir。〃　
　They　parked　in　the　VIP　lot；　and　Pendergast　opened　the　trunk。　He　gestured　to　D'Agosta。　〃For　you。〃　
　D'Agosta　peered　in。　A　federal…issue　battering　ram　lay　inside；　black　and　ugly　and　about　three　feet　long；　the　kind　DEA　agents　used　in　drug　busts。　
　〃You　got　to　be　kidding。〃　
　〃Firmness；　my　dear　Vincent；〃　said　Pendergast；　smiling　faintly。　
　D'Agosta　grabbed　the　ram　by　its　two　handles　and　hefted　it　out。　They　headed　down　the　walkway　to　the　central　dock。　Ahead　and　to　one　side；　tethered　in　its　own　private　slip；　the　yacht　loomed　bigger　than　life：　white　with　three　enclosed　decks；　dozens　of　smoked　windows；　and　a　conning　tower　bristling　with　electronics。　The　name　Stormcloud　was　stenciled　on　the　stern。　
　〃What　about　crew？〃　D'Agosta　asked。　
　〃My　information　is　that　Bullard's　alone。〃　
　The　private　slip　had　its　own　dock　behind　a　locked　gate。　Pendergast　knelt　before　it；　raising　his　hands　to　the　lock。　It　looked　to　D'Agosta　as　if　the　FBI　agent　was　just　testing　the　lock　to　see　if　it　might　be　ajar。　Perhaps　it　was；　because　the　gate　swung　open　obediently　in　his　hands。　
　〃We　need　to　bebrisk　；〃　said　Pendergast　as　he　rose。　
　D'Agosta　humped　himself　forward；　lugging　the　ram。　Despite　renewed　sessions　in　the　gym　since　the　gunfight　in　the　park；　he　was　still　out　of　shape；　the　ram　weighed　at　least　forty　pounds；　and　his　bruised　limbs　protested　with　each　thudding　step。　The　gangplank　of　theStormcloud　was　up；　but　in　t