ch.nativetongue-第42节

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　〃This　is　important；　Bud。　It's　evidence。〃
　In　the　hall　he　passed　Danny　Pogue　carrying　a　teapot　on　a　silver　tray。　〃You　believe　this　shit？〃　Bud　Schwartz　said。　He　held　up　the　doily。
　〃What　now？〃
　〃She　wants　me　to　pickle　the　goddamn　thing！〃
　Danny　Pogue　made　a　squeamish　face。　〃What　for？〃　When　he　returned　to　the　living　room；　Molly　was　rocking　tranquilly　in　the　chair。　He　poured　the　tea　and　said；　〃You　must　be　feeling　better。〃
　〃Better　than　I　look。〃　She　drank　carefully；　watching　Danny　Pogue　over　the　rim　of　the　cup。　In　a　tender　voice　she　said：　〃You　don't　know　what　this　means　to　me；　the　fact　that　you　stayed　to　help。〃
　〃It　wasn't　just　me。　It　was　Bud；　too。〃
　〃He's　not　a　bad　person；〃　Molly　McNamara　allowed。　〃I　suspect　he's　a　man　of　principle；　deep　down。〃
　Danny　Pogue　had　never　thought　of　his　partner　as　a　man　of　principle；　but　maybe　Molly　had　spotted　something。　While　Bud　was　an　incorrigible　thief；　he　played　by　a　strict　set　of　rules。　No　guns；　no　violence；　no　hard　drugs…Danny　Pogue　supposed　that　these　could　be　called　principles。　He　hoped　that　Molly　recognized　that　he；　too；　had　his　limits…moral　borders　he　would　not　cross。　Later　on；　when　she　was　asleep；　he　would　make　a　list。
　He　said；　〃So　what　are　you　gonna　do　now？　Stay　at　it？〃
　〃To　tell　the　truth；　I'm　not　certain。〃　She　put　down　the　teacup　and　dabbed　her　swollen　lips　with　a　napkin。　〃I've　had　some　experts　go　over　Kingsbury's　files。　Lawyers；　accountants；　people　sympathetic　to　the　cause。　They　made　up　a　cash…flow　chart；　ran　the　numbers　up　and　down　and　sideways。　They　say　it's　all　very　interesting；　these　foreign　panies；　but　it　would　probably　take　months　for　the　IRS　and　Customs　to　sort　it　out；　another　year　for　an　indictment。　We　simply　don't　have　that　kind　of　time。〃
　〃Shoot；〃　said　Danny　Pogue。　He　hadn't　said　〃shoot〃　since　the　third　grade；　but　he'd　been　trying　to　clean　up　his　language　in　Molly's　presence。
　〃I'm　a　little　discouraged；〃　she　went　on。　〃I　guess　I'd　gotten　my　hopes　up　prematurely。〃
　Danny　Pogue　felt　so　lousy　that　he　almost　told　her　about　the　other　files；　about　the　blackmail　scam　that　he　and　Bud　Schwartz　were　running　on　the　great　Francis　X。　Kingsbury。
　He　said；　〃There's　nothing　we　can　do？　Just　let　him　go　ahead　and　murder　off　them　butterflies　and　snails？〃　Molly　had　given　him　a　magazine　clipping　about　the　rare　tropical　snails　of　Key　Largo。
　She　said；　〃I　didn't　say　we're　giving　up…〃
　〃Because　we　should　talk　to　Bud。　He〃ll　think　a　something。〃
　〃Every　day　we　lose　precious　time；〃　Molly　said。　〃Every　day　they're　that　much　closer　to　pouring　the　concrete。〃
　Danny　Pogue　nodded。　〃Let's　talk　to　Bud。　Bud's　sharp　as　a　tack　about　stuff　like　this…〃
　Molly　stopped　rocking　and　raised　a　hand。　〃I　heard　something；　didn't　you？〃
　From　the　kitchen　came　muffled　percussions　of　a　struggle…men　grunting；　something　heavy　hitting　a　wall；　a　jar　breaking。
　Danny　Pogue　was　shaking　when　he　stood　up。　The　bum　foot　made　him　think　twice　about　running。
　〃Hand　me　the　purse；〃　Molly　said。　〃I'll　need　my　gun。〃
　But　Danny　Pogue　was　frozen　to　the　pine　floor。　His　eyelids　fluttered　and　his　arms　stiffened　at　his　side。　All　he　could　think　was：　Somebody's　killing　Bud！
　〃Danny；　did　you　hear　me？　Get　me　my　purse！〃
　A　block　of　orange　appeared　in　the　hallway。　It　was　a　tall　man　in　a　bright　rainsuit　and　a　moldy…looking　shower　cap。　He　had　a　damp　silvery　beard　and　black　wraparound　sunglasses　and　something　red　fastened　to　his　neck。　The　man　carried　Bud　Schwartz　in　a　casual　way；　one　arm　around　the　midsection。　Bud　Schwartz　was　limp；　gasping；　flushed　in　the　face。
　Danny　Pogue's　tongue　was　as　dry　as　plaster　when　the　stranger　stepped　out　of　the　shadow。
　〃Oh；　it's　you；〃　Molly　McNamara　said。　〃Now　be　careful；　don't　hurt　that　young　man。〃
　The　stranger　dropped　Bud　Schwartz　butt…first　on　the　pine　and　said；　〃I　caught　him　putting　somebody's　fingertip　in　a　Mason　jar。〃
　〃I'm　the　one　who　told　him　to；〃　said　Molly。　〃Now；　Governor；　you　just　settle　down。〃
　〃What　happened　to　you？〃　the　stranger　demanded。　〃Who　did　this　to　you；　Miss　McNamara？〃
　He　took　off　the　sunglasses　and　glared　accusingly　at　Danny　Pogue；　who　emitted　a　pitiful　hissing　noise　as　he　shook　his　head。　Bud　Schwartz；　struggling　to　his　feet；　said：　〃It　wasn't　us；　it　was　some　damn　Cuban。〃
　〃Tell　me　a　name；〃　said　the　stranger。
　〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Molly　McNamara；　〃but　I　got　a　good　bite　out　of　him。〃
　〃The　finger；〃　Bud　Schwartz　explained；　still　gathering　his　breath。
　The　stranger　knelt　beside　the　rocking　chair　and　gently　examined　the　raw…looking　cuts　and　bruises　on　Molly's　face。　〃This　is。。。intolerable。〃　He　was　whispering　to　himself　and　no　one　else。　〃This　is　barbarism。〃
　Molly　touched　the　visitor's　arm　and　said；　〃I'll　be　all　right。　Really。〃
　Bud　Schwartz　and　Danny　Pogue　had　seen　men　like　this　only　in　prison；　and　not　many。　Wild　was　the　only　way　to　describe　the　face。。。wild　and　driven　and　fearless；　but　not　necessarily　insane。　It　would　be　foolish；　perhaps　even　fatal；　to　assume　the　guy　was　spaced。
　He　turned　to　Bud　Schwartz　and　said；　〃How　about　giving　me　that　Cuban's　nub。〃
　〃I　dropped　it　on　the　floor。〃　Bud　Schwartz　thought：　Christ；　he's　not　going　to　make　me　go　pick　it　up；　is　he？
　Danny　Pogue　said；　〃No　sweat；　I'll　find　it。〃
　〃No；〃　said　the　man　in　the　orange　rainsuit。　〃I'll　grab　it　on　the　way　out。〃　He　squeezed　Molly's　hands　and　stood　up。　〃Will　you　be　all　right？〃
　〃Yes；　they're　taking　good　care　of　me。〃
　The　stranger　nodded　at　Bud　Schwartz；　who　couldn't　help　but　notice　that　one　of　the　man's　eyes　was　slipping　out　of　the　socket。　The　man　calmly　reinserted　it。
　〃I　didn't　mean　to　hurt　you；〃　he　said　to　Bud　Schwartz。　〃Well；　actually；　I　did　mean　to　hurt　you。〃
　Molly　explained：　〃He　didn't　know　you　fellows　were　my　guests；　that's　all。〃
　〃I'll　be　in　touch；〃　said　the　stranger。　He　kissed　Molly　on　the　cheek　and　said　he　would　check　on　her　in　a　day　or　two。　Then　he　was　gone。
　Bud　Schwartz　waited　until　he　heard　the　door　slam。　Then　he　said：　〃What　the　hell　was　that？〃
　〃A　friend；〃　Molly　replied。　They　had　known　each　other　a　long　time。　She　had　worked　as　a　volunteer　in　his　gubernatorial　campaign；　whipping　up　both　the　senior…citizen　vote　and　the　environmental　coalitions。　Later；　when　he　quit　office　and　vanished；　Molly　was　one　of　the　few　who　knew　what　happened；　and　one　of　the　few　who　understood。　Over　the　years　he　had　kept　in　touch　in　his　own　peculiar　way…sometimes　a　spectral　glimpse；　sometimes　a　sensational　entrance；　jarring　cameos　that　were　as　hair…raising　as　they　were　poignant。
　〃Guy's　big；〃　said　Danny　Pogue。　〃Geez；　he　looks　like…did　he　do　time？　What's　his　story？〃
　〃We　don't　want　to　know；〃　Bud　Schwartz　said。　〃Am　I　right？〃
　〃You're　absolutely　right；〃　said　Molly　McNamara。
　
　Shortly　before　midnight　on　July　23；　Jim　Tile　received　a　radio　call　that　an　unknown　individual　was　shooting　at　automobiles　on　Card　Sound　Road。　The　trooper　told　the　dispatcher　he　was　en　route；　and　that　he'd　notify　the　Monroe　County　Sheriff's　Office　if　he　needed　back…ups…which　he　knew　he　wouldn't。
　The　cars　were　lined　up　on　the　shoulder　of　the　road　a　half…mile　east　of　the　big　bridge。　Jim　Tile　took　inventory　from　the　stickers　on　the　bumpers：　two　Alamos；　a　Hertz；　a　National　and　an　Avis。　The　rental　firms　had　started　putting　bumper　plates　on　all　their　automobiles；　which　served　not　only　as　advertisement　but　as　a　warning　to　local　drivers　that　a　disoriented　tourist　was　nearby。　On　this　night；　though；　the　bright　stickers　had　betrayed　their　unsuspecting　drivers。　Each　of　the　vehicles　bore　a　single　。45…caliber　bullet　hole　in　the　left…front　fender　panel。
　Jim　Tile　knew　exactly　what　had　happened。　He　took　brief　statements　from　the　motorists；　who　seemed　agitated　by　the　suggestion　that　anyone　would　fire　at　them　simply　because　they　were　tourists。　Jim　Tile　assured　them　that　this　sort　of　thing　didn't　happen　every　day。　Then　he　called　Homestead　for　tow　trucks　to　get　the　three　rental　cars　whose　engine　blocks　had　been　mortally　wounded　by　the　sniper　in　the　mangroves。
　One　of　the　drivers；　a　French…Canadian　textile　executive；　used　a　cellular　phone　to　call　the　Alamo　desk　at　Miami　International　Airport　and　explain　the　situation。　Soon　new　cars　were　on　the　way。
　It　took　Jim　Tile　several　hours　to　clear　the　scene。　A　pair　of　Monroe　County　deputies　stopped　by　and　helped　search　for　shell　casings　until　the　mosquitoes　drove　them　away。　After　the　officers　had　fled；　and　after　the　tourists　had　motored　north　in　a　wary　caravan　of　Thunderbirds；　Skylarks　and　Zephyrs；　Jim　Tile　got　in　his　patrol　car　and　mashed　on　the　horn　with　both　fists。　Then　he　rolled　up　the　windows；　turned　up　the　air　conditioner　and　waited　for　his　sad　old　friend　to　e　out　of　the　swamp。
　〃I'm　sorry。〃　Skink　offered　the　trooper　a　stick　of　EDTIAR　insect　repellent。
　〃You　promised　to　behave；〃　said　Jim　Tile。　〃Now　you've　put　me　in　a　tough　position。〃
　〃Had　to　blow　off　some　steam；〃　Skink　said。　〃Anyway；　I　didn't　hurt　anybody。〃　He　took　off　his　sunglasses　and　tinkered　unabashedly　with　the　fake　eyeball。　〃Haven't　you　ever　had　days　like　this？　Days　where　you　just　had　to　go　out　and　shoot　the　shit　out　of　something；　didn't　matter　what？〃
　Jim　Tile　sighed。　〃Rental　cars？〃
　〃Why　the　hell　not。〃
　The　tension　dissolved　into　weary　silence。　The　men　had　talked　of　such　things　before。　When　Clinton　Tyree　was　the　governor　of　Florida；　Jim　Tile　had　been　his　chief　bodyguard…an　unusually　prestigiou