ch.nativetongue-第63节

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　The　white　light　revealed　a　shocking　scene。　Someone　had　entered　Pedro's　sanctuary　and　destroyed　the　delicate　web　of　sustenance。　Sewing　shears　had　snipped　the　intravenous　tubes　into　worthless　inch…long　segments；　which　littered　the　floor　like　plastic　rice。　The　same　person　had　sliced　open　every　one　of　Pedro's　unused　IV　bags；　the　wheelchair　rested；　literally；　in　a　pond　of　liquid　dextrose。
　But　by　far　the　worst　thing　to　greet　Pedro　Luz　was　the　desolate　sight　of　brown　pill　bottles；　perhaps　a　half…dozen；　open　and　empty　on　the　floor。　Whoever　he　was；　the　sonofabitch　had　flushed　Pedro's　anabolic　steroids　down　the　John。　The　ceramic　pestle　with　which　he　had　so　lovingly　powdered　his　Winstrols　lay　shattered　beneath　the　toilet　tank。
　And；　on　the　wall；　a　message　in　coral　lipstick。　Pedro　Luz　groaned　and　backed　the　wheelchair　so　he　could　read　it　easier。　A　wild　rage　heaved　through　his　chest　and　he　began　to　snatch　items　from　the　storage　shelves　and　hurl　them　against　the　cinder　block：　nightsticks；　gas　masks；　flashlights；　handcuffs；　cans　of　Mace；　pistol　grips；　boxes　of　bullets。
　Only　when　there　was　nothing　left　to　throw　did　Pedro　Luz　stop　to　read　the　words　on　the　wall　again。　Written　in　a　loopy　flamboyant　script；　the　message　said：
　
　Good　morning；　Dipshit！
　Just　wanted　you　to　know　I'm　not　dead。
　Have　a　nice　day；　and　don't　forget　your　Wheaties！
　
　It　was　signed；　〃Yours　truly；　J。　Winder。〃
　Pedro　Luz　emitted　a　feral　cry　and　aimed　himself　toward　the　executive　gym；　where　he　spent　the　next　two　hours　alone　on　the　bench　press；　purging　the　demons　and　praying　for　his　testicles　to　grow　back。
　
　THIRTY
　Somehow　Charles　Chelsea　summoned　the　creative　energy　necessary　for　fabrication：
　
　Golf　legend　Jake　Harp　was　accidentally　shot　Thursday　during　groundbreaking　ceremonies　for　the　new　Falcon　Trace　Golf　and　Country　Club　Resort　on　North　Key　Largo。
　The　incident　occurred　as　Mr。　Harp　was　preparing　to　hit　a　ball　off　what　will　be　the　first　tee　of　the　6；970…yard　championship　golf　course；　which　Mr。　Harp　designed　himself。　The　golfer　apparently　was　struck　by　a　stray　bullet　from　an　unidentified　boater；　who　may　have　been　shooting　at　nearby　sea　gulls。
　Mr。　Harp　was　listed　in　serious　but　stable　condition　after　undergoing　surgery　at　South　Miami　Hospital。
　〃This　is　a　tragedy　for　the　entire　golfing　world；　professionals　and　amateurs　alike；〃　said　Francis　X。　Kingsbury；　the　developer　of　Falcon　Trace；　and　a　close　personal　friend　of　Mr。　Harp。
　〃We're　all　praying　for　Jake　to　pull　through；〃　added　Kingsbury；　who　is　also　the　founder　and　chairman　of　the　Amazing　Kingdom　of　Thrills；　the　popular　family　theme　park　adjacent　to　the　sprawling　Falcon　Trace　project。
　By　mid…afternoon　Thursday；　police　had　not　yet　arrested　any　suspects　in　the　shooting。　Charles　Chelsea；　vice　president　of　publicity　for　Falcon　Trace　Ltd。；　disputed　accounts　by　some　reporters　on　the　scene　who　claimed　that　Mr。　Harp　was　the　victim　of　a　deliberate　sniper　attack。
　〃There's　no　reason　to　believe　that　this　terrible　event　was　anything　but　a　freak　accident；〃　Chelsea　said。
　
　Kingsbury　approved　the　press　release　with　a　disgusted　flick　of　his　hand。　He　drained　a　third　martini　and　asked　Chelsea　if　he　had　ever　before　witnessed　a　man　being　shot。
　〃Not　that　I　can　recall；　sir。〃
　〃Close　up；　I　mean；〃　Kingsbury　said。　〃Dead　bodies　are　one　thing…car　wrecks；　heart　attacks…I'm　not　counting　those。　What　I　mean　is；　bang！〃
　Chelsea　said；　〃It　happened　so　damn　fast。〃
　〃Well；　you　know　who　they　were　aiming　at？　Moi；　that's　who。　How　about　that！〃　Kingsbury　pursed　his　lips　and　drummed　his　knuckles。
　〃You？〃　Chelsea　said。　〃Who　would　try　to　kill　you？〃　He　instantly　thought　of　Joe　Winder。
　But　Kingsbury　smiled　drunkenly　and　began　to　hum　the　theme　from　The　Godfather。
　Chelsea　said；　〃There's　something　you're　not　telling　me。〃
　〃Of　course　there's　something　I'm　not　telling　you。　There's　tons　of　shit　I'm　not　telling　you。　What；　I　look　like　a　total　moron？〃
　Watching　Francis　Kingsbury　pour　another　martini；　Chelsea　felt　like　seizing　the　bottle　and　guzzling　himself　into　a　Tanqueray　a。　The　time　had　e　to　look　for　another　job；　the　fun　had　leaked　out　of　this　one。　A　malevolent　force；　unseen　and　uncontrollable；　had　perverted　Chelsea's　role　from　cheery　town　crier　to　conniving　propagandist。　Reflecting　on　the　past　weeks；　he　realized　he　should've　quit　on　the　day　the　blue…tongued　voles　were　stolen；　the　day　innocence　was　lost。
　We　are　all　no　longer　children；　Chelsea　thought　sadly。　We　are　potential　co…defendants。
　〃No　offense；〃　Kingsbury　was　saying；　〃but　you're　just　a　flack。　I　only　tell　you　what　I've　absolutely　got　to　tell　you。　Which　is　precious　damned　little。〃
　〃That's　the　way　it　should　be；〃　Chelsea　said　lifelessly。
　〃Right！　Loose　dicks　sink　ships。　Or　whatever。〃　Kingsbury　slurped　at　the　gin　like　a　thirsty　mutt。　〃Anyhow；　don't　worry　about　me。　I'm　taking…well；　let's　just　say；　the　necessary　precautions。　You　can　be　goddamn　sure。〃
　〃That's　wise　of　you。〃
　〃Meanwhile；　sharpen　your　pencil。　I　ordered　us　more　animals。〃　Kingsbury　wistfully　studied　his　drink。　〃Who's　the　guy　in　the　Bible；　the　one　with　the　ark。　Was　it　Moses？〃
　〃Noah；〃　Chelsea　said。　Boy；　was　the　old　man　smashed。
　〃Yeah；　Noah；　that's　who　I　feel　like。　Me　and　these　fucking　critters。　Anyhow；　we're　back　in　the　endangered…species　business；　saving　the　animals。　There　oughta　be　some　publicity　when　they　get　here。　You　see　to　it。〃
　The　woman　named　Rachel　Lark　had　phoned　all　the　way　from　New　Zealand。　She　said　she'd　done　her　best　on　such　short　notice；　and　said　Kingsbury　would　be　pleased　when　he　saw　the　new　attractions　for　the　Rare　Animal　Pavilion。　I　hope　so；　he'd　told　her；　because　we　could　damn　sure　use　some　good　news。
　Fearing　the　worst；　Charles　Chelsea　said；　〃What　kind　of　animals　are　we　talking　about？〃
　〃Cute　is　what　I　ordered。　Thirty…seven　hundred　dollars'　worth　of　cute。〃　Kingsbury　snorted。　〃Could　be　anything。　The　point　is；　we've　got　to　rebound；　Charlie。　We　got　a　fucking　void　to　fill。〃
　〃Right。〃
　〃Speaking　of　which；　we　also　need　another　golfer。　In　case　Jake　croaks；　God　forbid。〃
　Chelsea　recoiled　at　the　cold…bloodedness　of　the　assignment。　〃It　won't　look　good；　sir；　not　with　what　happened　this　morning。　It's　best　if　we　stick　by　Jake。〃
　〃Sympathy's　all　fine　and　dandy；　Charlie；　but　we　got　more　than　golf　at　stake　here。　We　got　waterfront　to　sell。　We　got　patio　homes。　We　got　club　memberships。　Can　Jake　Harp…don't　get　me　wrong…but　in　his　present　situation　can　Jake　do　promotional　appearances？　TV　mercials？　Celebrity　programs？　We　don't　even　know　if　Jake　can　still　breathe；　much　less　swing　a　fucking　five…iron。〃
　For　once　Francis　Kingsbury　expressed　himself　in　nearly　cogent　syntax。　It　must　be　excellent　gin；　Chelsea　thought。
　〃I　want　you　to　call　Nicklaus；〃　Kingsbury　went　on。　〃Tell　him　money　is　no　problem。〃
　〃Jack　Nicklaus；〃　the　publicity　man　repeated　numbly。
　〃No；　Irving　Nicklaus。　Who　the　hell　do　you　think！　And　if　you　can't　get　the　Bear；　try　Palmer。　And　if　you　can't　get　Annie；　you　try　Trevino。　And　if　you　can't　get　the　Mex；　try　the　Shark。　And　so　on。　The　bigger　the　better；　but　make　it　quick。〃
　Knowing　it　would　do　no　good；　Chelsea　reminded　Kingsbury　that　he　had　tried　to　recruit　the　top　golfing　names　when　he　was　first　planning　Falcon　Trace；　and　that　they'd　all　said　no。　Only　Jake　Harp　had　the　stomach　to　work　for　him。
　〃I　don't　care　what　they　said　before；〃　Kingsbury　growled；　〃you　call　'em　again。　Money　is　no　problem；　all　right？〃
　〃Again；　I'd　just　like　to　caution　you　about　how　this　might　appear　to　people…〃
　〃I　need　a　hotshot　golfer；　Charlie。　The　hell　do　you　guys　call　it…a　media　personality？〃　Kingsbury　raised　one　plump　fist　and　let　it　fall　heavily　on　the　desk。　〃I　can't　sell　a　golf　resort　when　my　star　golfer's　on　a　goddamn　respirator。　Don't　you　understand？　Don't　you　know　a　goddamn　thing　about　Florida　real　estate？〃
　
　They　rode　to　the　airport　in　edgy　silence。　Danny　Pogue　was　waiting　for　Lou　to　say　something。　Like　it　was　all　their　fault。　Like　the　people　in　Queens　wanted　their　money　back。
　Earlier　Bud　Schwartz　had　pulled　his　partner　aside　and　said；　look；　they　want　the　dough；　we　give　it　back。　This　is　the　mob；　he　said；　and　we're　not　playing　games　with　the　mob。　But　it's　damned　important；　Bud　Schwartz　had　said；　that　Lou　and　his　Mafia　people　know　that　we　didn't　tip　off　Kingsbury。　How　the　hell　he　found　out　about　the　hit；　it　don't　matter。　It　wasn't　us　and　we　gotta　make　that　clear；　okay？　Danny　Pogue　agreed　wholeheartedly。　Like　Bud　Schwartz；　he　didn't　want　to　go　through　the　rest　of　life　having　somebody　else　start　his　car　every　morning。　Or　peeking　around　corners；　watching　out　for　inconspicuous　fat　guys　like　Lou。
　So　when　they　got　to　the　Delta　Airlines　terminal；
　Danny　Pogue　shook　Lou's　hand　and　said　he　was　very　sorry　about　what　had　happened。　〃Honest　to　God；　we　didn't　tell　nobody。〃
　〃That's　the　truth；〃　said　Bud　Schwartz。
　Lou　shrugged。　〃Probably　a　wire。　Don't　sweat　it。〃
　〃Thanks；〃　said　Danny　Pogue；　flushed　with　relief。　He　pumped　Lou's　pudgy　arm　vigorously。　〃Thanks　for…well；　just　thanks　is　all。〃
　Lou　nodded。　His　nose　and　cheeks　were　splashed　pink　with　raw　sunburn。　He　wore　the　same　herringbone　coat　and　striped　shirt　that　he　had　when　he'd　gotten　off　the　airplane。　There　was　still　no　sign　of　the　gun；　but　the　burglars　knew　he　was　carrying　it　somewhere　on　his　corpulent　profile。