chiaasen.stormyweather-第20部分

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Both　of　them　wore　loopy　champagne　smiles。
　
　〃His　sister　Maria；〃　Edie　blurted；　sensing　the　game　was　about　to　end。
　
　〃She's　in　a　wedding　gown；〃　Fred　Dove　remarked；　with　no　trace　of　sarcasm。　〃And　Mister　Torres　is　wearing　a　black　tuxedo　and　tails。〃
　
　Edie　said；　〃He　was　the　best　man。〃
　
　〃Really？　His　hand　is　on　her　bottom。〃
　
　〃They're　very　close；〃　said　Edie；　〃for　a　brother　and　sister。〃　The　words　trailed　off　in　defeat。
　
　Fred　Dove's　shoulders　stiffened；　and　his　tone　chilled。　〃Do　you　happen　to　have　some　identification？　A　driver's　license　would　be　good。　Anything　with　a　current　photograph。〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　said　nothing。　She　feared　pounding　one　felony　with　another。
　
　〃Let　me　guess；〃　said　the　insurance　man。　〃All　your　personal　papers　were　lost　in　the　hurricane。〃
　
　Edie　bowed　her　head；　thinking：　This　can't　be　happening　again。　One　of　these　days　I've　got　to　catch　a　break。　She　said；　〃Shit。〃
　
　〃Pardon？〃
　
　〃I　said　'shit。'　Meaning；　I　give　up。〃　Edie　couldn't　believe　it…a　fucking　wedding　picture！　Tony　and　the　unfaithful　witch　he　planned　to　rip　off　for　half　the　hurricane　money。　Too　bad　Snapper　bolted；　she　thought；　because　this　was　ten　times　better　than　Sally　Jessy。
　
　〃Who　are　you？〃　Fred　Dove　was　stern　and　official。
　
　〃Look；　what　happens　now？〃
　
　〃I'll　tell　you　exactly　what　happens…〃
　
　At　that　moment；　the　electric　generator　ran　out　of　gasoline；　dying　with　a　feeble　series　of　burps。　The　light…bulb　went　dim　and　the　television　went　black。　The　house　at　15600　Calusa　became　suddenly　as　quiet　as　a　chapel。　The　only　sound　was　a　faint　jingle　from　the　backyard；　where　the　two　dachshunds　squirmed　to　pull　free　of　their　leashes。
　
　In　the　darkness；　Fred　Dove　reached　for　his　flashlight。　Edie　Marsh　intercepted　his　wrist　and　held　on　to　it。　She　decided　there　was　nothing　to　lose　by　trying。
　
　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　the　insurance　man　asked。
　
　Edie　brought　his　hand　to　her　mouth。　〃What's　it　worth　to　you？〃
　
　Fred　Dove　stood　as　still　as　a　statue。
　
　〃e　on；〃　Edie　said；　her　tongue　brushing　his　knuckles；　〃what's　it　worth？〃
　
　The　insurance　man；　in　a　shaky　whisper：　〃What's　what　worth…not　calling　the　police？　Is　that　what　you　mean？〃
　
　Edie　was　smiling。　Fred　Dove　could　tell　by　the　feel　of　her　lips　and　teeth　against　his　hand。
　
　〃What's　this　house　insured　for？〃　she　asked。
　
　〃Why？〃
　
　〃One　twenty？　One　thirty？〃
　
　〃One　forty…one；〃　said　Fred　Dove；　thinking：　Her　breath　is　so　unbelievably　soft。
　
　Edie　switched　to　her　sex…kitten　voice；　the　one　that　had　failed　to　galvanize　the　young　Palm　Beach　Kennedy。　〃One　forty…one？　You　sure；　Mister　Dove？〃
　
　〃The　structure；　yes。　Because　of　the　swimming　pool。〃
　
　〃Of　course。〃　She　pressed　closer；　wishing　she　weren't　wearing　a　bra　but　suspecting　it　didn't　much　matter。　Poor　Freddie's　brakes　were　already　smoking。　She　feathered　her　eyelashes　against　his　neck　and　felt　him　bury　his　face　in　her　hair。
　
　The　insurance　man　labored　to　speak。　〃What　is　it　you　want？〃
　
　〃A　partner；〃　Edie　Marsh　replied；　sealing　the　agreement　with　a　long　blind　kiss。
　
　Sergeant　Cain　Darby　took　his　weekends　with　the　National　Guard　as　seriously　as　he　took　his　regular　job　as　a　maximum…security…prison　guard。　Although　he　would　have　preferred　to　remain　in　Starke　with　the　armed　robbers　and　serial　killers；　duty　called　Cain　Darby　to　South　Florida　on　the　day　after　the　hurricane　struck。
　
　manding　Darby's　National　Guard　unit　was　the　night　manager　of　a　Days　Inn；　who　sternly　instructed　the　troops　not　to　fire　their　weapons　unless　fired　upon　themselves。　From　what　Cain　Darby　knew　of　Miami；　this　scenario　seemed　not　entirely　improbable。　Nonetheless；　he　understood　that　a　Guardsman's　chief　mission　was　to　maintain　order　in　the　streets；　assist　needy　civilians　and　prevent　looting。
　
　The　unit's　first　afternoon　was　spent　erecting　tents　for　the　homeless　and　unloading　heavy　drums　of　fresh　drinking　water　from　the　back　of　a　Red　Cross　trailer。　After　supper；　Cain　Darby　was　posted　to　a　curfew　checkpoint　on　Quail　Roost　Drive；　not　far　from　the　Florida　Turnpike。　Darby　and　another　Guardsman；　the　foreman　of　a　paper　mill；　took　turns　stopping　the　cars　and　trucks。　Most　drivers　had　good　excuses　for　being　on　the　road　after　curfew…some　were　searching　for　missing　relatives；　others　were　on　their　way　to　a　hospital；　and　still　others　were　simply　lost　in　a　place　they　no　longer　recognized。　If　questions　arose　about　a　driver's　alibi；　the　paper…mill　foreman　deferred　judgment　to　Sergeant　Darby；　due　to　his　law…enforcement　experience。　mon　violators　were　TV　crews；　sightseers；　and　teenagers　who　had　e　to　steal。　These　cars　Cain　Darby　interdicted　and　sent　away；　to　the　Turnpike　ramp。
　
　At　midnight　the　paper…mill　foreman　returned　to　camp；　leaving　Sergeant　Darby　alone　at　the　barricade。　He　dozed　for　what　must　have　been　two　hours；　until　he　was　startled　awake　by　loud　snorting。　Blearily　he　saw　the　shape　of　a　large　bear　no　more　than　thirty　yards　away；　at　the　edge　of　a　pine　glade。　Or　maybe　it　was　just　a　freak　shadow；　for　it　looked　nothing　like　the　chubby　black　bears　that　Cain　Darby　routinely　poached　from　the　Ocala　National　Forest。　The　thing　that　he　now　thought　he　was　seeing　stood　seven　feet　at　the　shoulders。
　
　Cain　Darby　closed　his　eyes　tightly　to　clear　the　sleep。　Then　he　opened　them　again；　very　slowly。　The　huge　shape　was　still　there；　a　motionless　phantasm。　mon　sense　told　him　he　was　mistaken…they　don't　grow　thousand…pound　bears　in　Florida！　But　that's　sure　what　it　looked　like。。。。
　
　So　he　raised　his　rifle。
　
　Then；　from　the　corner　of　his　eye；　he　spotted　headlights　barreling　down　Quail　Roost　Drive。　He　turned　to　see。　Somebody　was　driving　toward　the　roadblock　like　a　bat　out　of　hell。　Judging　by　the　rising　chorus　of　sirens；　half　the　Metro　police　force　was　on　the　chase。
　
　When　Cain　Darby　spun　back　toward　the　bear；　or　the　shape　that　looked　like　a　bear；　it　was　gone。　He　lowered　the　gun　and　directed　his　attention　to　the　maniac　in　the　oning　truck。　Cain　Darby　struck　an　erect　military　pose　in　front　of　the　candy…striped　barricades…spine　straight；　legs　apart；　the　rifle　held　at　a　ready　angle　across　the　chest。
　
　A　half　mile　behind　the　truck　was　a　stream　of　flashing　blue　and　red　lights。　The　fugitive　driver　seemed　undaunted。　As　the　headlights　drew　closer；　Sergeant　Darby　hurriedly　weighed　his　options。　The　asshole　wasn't　going　to　stop；　that　much　was　clear。　By　now　the　man　had　（unless　he　was　blind；　drunk　or　both）　seen　the　soldier　standing　in　his　path。
　
　Yet　the　vehicle　was　not　decelerating。　If　anything；　it　was　gaining　speed。　Cain　Darby　cursed　as　he　dashed　out　of　the　way。　If　there　was　one　thing　he　found　intolerable；　it　was　disrespect　for　a　uniform；　whether　it　belonged　to　the　Department　of　Corrections　or　the　National　Guard。
　
　So　he　indignantly　cranked　off　a　few　rounds　as　the　idiot　driver　smashed　through　the　barricade。
　
　No　one　was　more　stunned　than　Cain　Darby　to　see　the　speeding　truck　overshoot　the　Turnpike　ramp　and　plunge　full　speed　into　a　drainage　canal；　no　one　except　the　driver；　Gil　Peck。　The　sound　of　gunfire　had　destroyed　his　ragged　reflexes；　particularly　his　ability　to　locate　the　brake　pedal。　He　couldn't　believe　some　peckerwood　Guardsman　was　shooting　at　him。
　
　What　did　not　surprise　Gil　Peck；　considering　his　heavy　cargo　of　stolen　bricks；　was　how　swiftly　the　flatbed　sunk　in　the　warm　brown　water。　He　squeezed　through　the　window；　swam　to　shore　and　began　weeping　at　his　own　foul　luck。　All　his　hurricane　booty　was　lost；　except　for　the　package　of　hash；　which　bobbed　to　the　surface　at　the　precise　moment　the　first　police　car　arrived。
　
　Yet　the　drugs　weren't　the　most　serious　of　Gil　Peck's　legal　concerns。　As　he　was　being　handcuffed；　he　declared：　〃I　didn't　kill　him！〃
　
　〃Kill　who？〃　the　officer　asked。
　
　〃The　guy；　you　know。　The　guy　at　the　trailer　park。〃　Gil　Peck　assumed　that's　why　the　cops　were　chasing　him…they'd　found　the　body'of　the　crucified　man。
　
　But　they　hadn't。　Gil　Peck's　nausea　worsened。　He　should've　kept　his　damn　mouth　shut。　Now　it　was　too　late。　Pink　and　blue　bikini　panties　began　to　float　up；　like　pale　jellyfish；　from　the　bed　of　the　sunken　truck。
　
　The　officer　said：　〃What　guy　at　what　trailer　park？〃
　
　Gil　Peck　told　him　about　the　dead　man　impaled　in　the　TV　dish。　As　other　policemen　arrived；　Gil　Peck　repeated　the　story；　and　also　his　impassioned　denials　of　guilt。　One　of　the　officers　asked　Gil　Peck　if　he　would　take　them　to　the　body；　and　he　agreed。
　
　After　the　paramedics　checked　him　for　broken　bones；　the　thief　was　toweled　off　and　deposited　in　the　back…seat　cage　of　a　Highway　Patrol　car。　The　trooper　at　the　wheel　was　a　large　black　man　in　a　Stetson。　On　the　way　to　the　trailer　court；　Gil　Peck　delivered　yet　another　excited　monologue　about　his　innocence。
　
　〃If　you　didn't　do　it；〃　the　trooper　cut　in；　〃why'd　you　run？〃
　
　〃Scared；　man。〃　Gil　Peck　shivered。　〃You　should　see。〃
　
　〃Oh；　I　can't　wait；〃　the　trooper　said。
　
　〃You　a　Christian；　sir？〃
　
　It　was　amazing；　thought　the　trooper；　how　quickly　the　handcuffs　induced　spiritual　devoutness。　〃Anyone　read　you　your　rights？〃　he　asked　the　truck　driver。
　
　Gil　Peck　thrust　his　face　to　the　mesh　of　the　cage。　〃If　you're　a　Christian；　you　gotta　believe　what　I'm　sayin'。　It　wasn't　me　that　crucified　the　poor　fucker。〃
　
　But　Jim　T