js&cs.thebridge-第47节

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　　〃God　damn　it！〃　he　raged；　frustration　and　fear　going　off　in　his　guts　like　a　napalm　rain　as　his　fist　went　WHAM　against　the　phone　booth's　safety　glass；　WHAM　until　it　bowed；　WHAM　WHAM　WHAM　in　two…fisted　rapid　succession　。。。
　　〃'Scuse　me；〃　said　the　voice；　and　before　he　could　turn；　there　was　somebody　else　in　the　booth　with　him：　pushing　in　behind　him；　pressing　him　face…first　against　the　wall。
　　〃HEY！〃　he　yelled；　but　it　was　too　late。　The　punk　was　already　reaching　for　him；　reaching　past　him　to　the　phone。　He　had　a　flat　colored　object　in　his　hand；　and　when　it　hit　the　phone's　coin　box；　it　adhered　to　its　surface；　proudly　flashing　its　circle　and　slash。
　　NO　FUTURE；　it　said。
　　〃Thanks；〃　the　kid　muttered；　sliding　back　out　with　the　same　casual　indifference　he'd　displayed　sliding　in。
　　Any　other　time；　Kirk　would　have　just　been　pissed。　But　the　fire　still　strafed　his　gut；　and　now　it　flooded　up　his　throat　as　well。　〃Hey！〃　he　hollered；　stepping　out　after　him。　〃What　the　fuck　is　the　matter　with　you？〃
　　The　kid　kept　walking；　heading　for　the　car。　His　jacket　bore　the　same　insignia　as　the　sticker。
　　〃HEY！！〃　He　could　feel　his　blood　pressure　rising；　the　first　throbbing　bloodrush　in　his　temples。
　　〃What！〃　The　tall　kid　stopped；　then　turned　around；　wearing　a　pained　what…now　expression。　〃Don't　blow　a　hose；　okay？　I　said　excuse　me。〃
　　Behind　him；　a　car　horn　tootled。　For　the　first　time；　Kirk　noticed　the　diseased　VW　parked　beside　the　ACTION…9　mobile。　There　was　an　odd；　very　interesting…looking　punky　girl　in　the　driver's　seat；　but　that　didn't　change　the　fact　that　she　was　sitting　in　the　ugliest　car　he'd　ever　seen　in　his　life。　She　looked　at　him　and　started　to　nod。
　　〃You're　Kirk　Bogarde；〃　the　girl　said；　smiling。
　　Kirk　froze。　All　his　professional　flags　went　up。　Do　I　know　them？　he　silently　asked　himself；　suddenly　imagining　tomorrow's　top　story　today：　EX…REPORTER　SUFFERS　MAJOR　MINIT　MARKET　BREAKDOWN。　Film　at　eleven　。。。
　　〃Oh；　yeah！〃　The　tall　kid　snapped　his　fingers；　rolled　his　eyes　and　tapped　his　forehead。　〃You're　that　dork　from　Channel　9。　The　pooper…scooper　dude。〃
　　Kirk　recoiled；　a　little　stung。
　　〃You　want　a　real　story？〃　the　girl　offered。　〃Check　this　out。〃
　　The　kid　held　something　up　for　Kirk　to　see；　and　he　suddenly　found　himself　eye…to…eye　with　the　most　reprehensible　magazine　cover　he'd　ever　seen。　He　lost　a　couple　of　seconds　to　utter　shock。
　　And　then；　all　at　once；　he　began　to　laugh。
　　〃Wait　a　minute。〃　Staring；　incredulous。　〃That's　Werner　Blake　porking　that　baby！〃
　　〃Yep。〃　The　punk　nodded。　〃That's　my　dad。〃
　　And　suddenly；　Kirk　heard　the　voice　of　his　savior。
　　〃Did　you　say　dad？〃
　　〃Duhhh　。。。　〃　the　kid　said；　mocking　him。
　　〃Wow。〃　Feeling　his　circuits　click　back　into　life。　The　fire　was　in　his　veins；　not　his　digestive　system。　Back　where　it　belonged。
　　〃Wow；〃　he　reiterated：　voice　droll　and　knowing；　in　the　lower　register。　The　kind　of　voice　that　assumes　an　immediate　insider's　grasp　of　the　situation。　〃You　two　must　be　very　close　。。。　〃
　　The　kid　and　the　girl　simultaneously　burst　out　laughing；　as　if　he'd　triggered　some　extremely　inside　joke。　That　they　weren't　laughing　with　him；　entirely；　was　not　a　major　problem。　They　could　cop　any　attitude　they　wanted。　Kirk's　mind　had　kicked　into　overdrive；　and　the　grail　was　suddenly　in　his　sights。
　　〃What　would　you　say；〃　he　asked；　very　carefully；　〃if　I　told　you　that　I　was　gonna　nail　his　fucking　ass　to　the　floorboards；　over　a　chemical　spill　in　Hellam　Township？〃
　　〃What　chemical　spill？〃　they　wanted　to　know；　their　interest　suddenly　piqued。
　　〃Tell　you　what；〃　he　bargained。　〃You　talk　to　me；　I'll　talk　to　you。　But　it　has　to　be　right　now；　okay？　Before　they　can　cover　it　up　pletely。〃
　　The　punkoids　gave　it　about　fifteen　seconds　of　serious　contemplation…should　we　trust　this　geek　or　not？…before　seizing　on　the　moment。　Voting　in　favor　of　total　destruction。
　　And　telling　him　everything　he　needed　to　know。
　　Blake　was　home。　On　the　phone。　All　day。　Blake　was　acting　severely　stressed。　Yes；　it　seemed　that　a　coverup　might　well　be　in　the　works　up　at　Casa　Blake。　Beyond　that；　the　inside　scope　on　the　day…to…day　of　Werner　Blake　was　every　bit　as　corrupt　as　Kirk　could　ever　have　dared　to　dream。
　　Chances　like　this　came　only　once　in　a　lifetime。
　　The　Kirk　that　jumped　back　in　his　car　five　minutes　later　was　like　a　man　reborn。　His　doubts　were　abolished。　His　dick　was　hard。　And　Jesus；　like　Laura；　could　kiss　his　rosy　red　ass。
　　Kirk　Bogarde　was　back。
　　And　his　moment　of　truth　was　at　hand。
　　
　　
　　　Thirty…Nine
　　　
　　By　two　twenty…four　Laura　was　on　her　second　pack　of　Newport　Lights　and　counting。　Her　mouth　felt　like　the　inside　of　an　ashtray；　the　rest　of　her　just　felt　like　shit。
　　She　couldn't　reach　Kirk。　Kirk　was　inmunicado。　Kirk　had　fallen　off　the　map；　been　swallowed　by　Black　Bridge。　Kirk　was　fucking　history　the　minute　she　next　laid　eyes　upon　him。
　　In　the　meantime　that　left　Laura　at　the　nerve　center　of　an　information…gathering　apparatus　that　couldn't　pin　anything　down；　instead　she　was　stuck　in　a　basement　with　no　windows　and　no　real　clue　as　to　what　was　going　on　outside；　playing　a　game　of　blind　poker　with　a　telephone　and　a　set　of　scanners。
　　The　phone　rang　again。
　　Laura　groaned。　She'd　been　on　the　phone　all　afternoon；　fielding　calls　from　every　wacko　in　the　tri…county　area　or　trying　to　get　some　real　information。
　　Trying　to　get　through；　period。
　　Laura　called　Hellam　Police。　No　one　answered。　She　called　Paradise　City　Police；　but　they　knew　very　little　about　Hellam　Township。　She　tried　the　State　Police；　tried　a　dozen　times　to　get　through　to　the　EPA　and　PEMA。
　　All　for　nada。
　　The　phone　rang　again。　Laura　took　a　deep　breath；　and　picked　it　up。
　　〃WPAL　NEWS　。。。　〃
　　〃Laura！〃　A　deeply　resonant　voice　came　over　the　line。　〃What　the　hell's　going　on　down　there；　babe？〃
　　Oh　God；　she　recoiled。　〃Dougie；〃　she　said。
　　Dougie　Trumble　was　the　lantern…jawed　anchor　from　Channel　23；　the　local　ABC　affiliate。　He　was　a　total　pig；　and　Laura　detested　him。　She　turned　the　tables　in　an　eyeblink。　〃Damn；　Dougie；　I　was　hoping　you　could　tell　me　。。。　〃　she　said；　all　innocent　intent。
　　〃I；　uh；　heard　there　was　a　big　spill；　and　。。。　〃　he　said；　instantly　retreating。　〃You　mean；　you　don't　know？〃
　　She　was　playing　the　same　game。　Something　for　nothing。　Try　to　peek　at　the　other　player's　cards。　Don't　tip　your　hand。　Dougie　was　sniffing　around；　buddy…buddying　and　fishing　for　information；　the　public's　need　to　know　and　yadda　yadda　yadda。
　　〃Sorry；　Dougie；　can't　help　you；〃　she　said；　blowing　him　off。
　　It　was　a　tactical　decision；　Neither　of　the　other　networks　carried　the　AFC　games；　and　hence　both　had　six　o'clock　broadcasts。　Either　one　could　blow　them　out　of　the　water。
　　But　Dougie　was　forty…eight　miles　away；　in　Harrisburg；　and　while　CBS　kept　a　bureau　office　in　town；　it　was　closed　on　Sunday。　Neither　one　had　anyone　in　the　area；　and　Black　Bridge　was　nothing　if　not　extremely　local。
　　If　she　could　play　this　one　close　and　tight；　she　still　had　a　scoop。　The　public's　need　to　know　didn't　even　enter　into　it。
　　This　was　business。
　　Laura　hung　up；　cutting　the　game　short。　She　just　wasn't　in　the　mood。　She　felt　increasingly　sealed　away　from　a　world　that　was　getting　stranger　by　the　second。
　　And　she　was　scared。
　　Because　Roger　and　Toby　are　out　there；　aren't　they？　her　conscience　reminded　her。　Roger　took　Toby　to　Philly　to　see　his　first　football　game；　and　you　didn't　go　because　of　your　stupid　job；　and　you　hugged　Toby　and　didn't　kiss　Roger；　and　now　they're　there　and　you're　here　and　you　have　a　decision　to　make　。。。
　　〃Stop；〃　she　told　herself；　massaging　her　temples。　She　shuddered　at　the　thought　of　her　family　out　there　somewhere；　the　lifelines　that　could　be　cut　in　an　instant。　The　familiar　pastoral　space　between　Paradise　and　Philly　seemed　suddenly　alien；　foreboding　。。。
　　〃Stop　it。〃　This　was　stupid。　They　were　at　a　football　game；　for　god's　sake。　There　was　nothing　she　could　do　about　it　at　the　moment；　there　was　no　way　on　earth　to　page　someone　in　a　stadium　packed　with　eighty　thousand　people。　The　only　thing　left　to　do　was　to　keep　the　lid　on　here。
　　And　make　up　her　mind。
　　To　break　or　not　to　break　。。。
　　Not　so　simple；　she　realized。　She　just　didn't　know　enough　yet。　And　ugly　words　kept　floating　up　in　her　mind；　words　like　hysteria　and　mass　panic。　Laura　glanced　at　the　phone；　every　line　was　lit　up　like　a　goddamned　Christmas　tree。　Crank　calls　multiplying　with　every　passing　minute。
　　And　Laura　was　stuck；　understaffed；　uninformed；　with　little　more　than　a　very　bad　feeling　to　steer　by。
　　〃Fuck　this；〃　she　muttered；　checking　her　Rolodex　for　Tom　Huntington's　home　number。　Laura　knew　that　the　station　manager　and　news　director　were　sometime　drinking　buddies；　in　that　good　ol'　boy　way　that　men　exhibited　whenever　they　shared　power。
　　Laura　added　it　all　up：　it　was　deep　into　the　NFL　season　and　the　games　were　getting　semicritical　in　determining　who　would　go　to　the　playoffs。　Tom　and　Chris　were　both　Eagles　fans。　Chris　had　just　gotten　a　forty…inch　Mitsubishi　monitor　in　his　family　room。
　　If　her　instincts　were　on　target　she'd　find　them　together；　maybe　kill　two　birds　with　one　stone。　They　could　be　apprised。　She　would　be　covered。
　　Either　way；　her　butt　wasn't　the　only　one　that　was　going　to　swing　in　the　b