ch.doublewhammy-第34章

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　〃Christ；〃　said　one　of　the　reporters。　Finally　something　to　scribble。
　〃The　richest　tournament　ever；〃　Charlie　Weeb　said；　glowing。　〃The　Dickie　Lockhart　Memorial　Bass　Blasters　Classic。〃
　Ed　Spurling　said；　〃At　Lunker　Lakes。〃
　〃Oh　yes；〃　said　the　Reverend　Weeb；　〃how　could　I　forget？〃
　
　Al　Garcia　was　dog…tired。　He'd　been　up　since　six；　and　even　after　four　cups　of　coffee　his　tongue　felt　like　mossy　Styrofoam。　His　bum　left　shoulder　was　screaming　for　Percodans　but　Garcia　stuck　with　plain　aspirin；　four　at　a　pop。　It　was　one　of　those　days　when　he　wondered　why　he　hadn't　just　retired　on　full　disability　and　moved　quietly　to　Ocala；　one　of　those　days　when　everything　and　everybody　in　Miami　annoyed　the　shit　out　of　him。　The　lady　at　the　toll　booth；　for　instance；　when　she'd　snatched　the　dollar　bill　out　of　his　hand…a　frigging　buck；　just　for　the　matchless　pleasure　of　driving　the　Rickenbacker　out　to　Key　Biscayne。　And　the　doorman　at　the　Mayan　high…rise　condo。　Let's　see　some　identification；　please。　How　about　a　sergeant's　badge；　asshole？　The　thing　was；　the　doorman…dressed　in　a　charcoal　monkey　suit　that　must　have　cost　four　bills…the　doorman　used　to　work　for　fucking　Somoza。　Used　to　pulverize　peasant　skulls　on　behalf　of　the　Nicaraguan　National　Guard。　Garcia　knew　this；　and　still　he　had　to　stand　there；　dig　around　for　his　shield　and　a　driver's　license；　before　the　goon　would　let　him　inside。
　To　top　it　off；　the　rich　guy　he's　supposed　to　interview　es　to　the　door　wearing　one　of　those　faggy　thong　bathing　suits　（candy…apple　red）　that　make　it　look　like　you've　got　a　python　between　your　legs。
　〃e　on　in；　Sergeant；〃　said　Dennis　Gault。　〃Tell　me　the　news。〃　
　〃What　news？〃　Garcia　looked　the　place　over　before　he　sat　down。
　Nice　apartment。　Thick；　fluffy　carpet…no　rug…burn　romances　for　this　stud。　Swell　view　of　the　Atlantic；　too。　Got　to　cost　a　million…three　easy；　Garcia　thought。　You　can't　buy　a　toilet　on　the　island　for　under　two…fifty。
　Gault　said；　〃About　Decker…didn't　you　catch　him？〃
　〃Not　yet。〃
　〃Grapefruit　juice？　O。J。？〃
　〃Coffee　if　you　got　it；〃　Garcia　said。　〃You　must　be　headed　down　to　the　beach。〃
　〃No；〃　Gault　said；　〃the　sauna。〃　After　he　poured　Garcia's　coffee；　he　said；　〃I　thought　that's　why　you　called…Decker；　I　mean。　I　figured　you　boys　would've　found　him　by　now。〃
　〃You　boys。　Fine；　be　that　way；　Garcia　thought。　〃We　almost　had　him　last　night；　but　he　got　away。〃
　〃Got　away？〃　Dennis　Gault　asked。
　〃As　in；　eluded　us；〃　Garcia　said。　〃Stole　a　boat　and　took　off　across　the　bay。　By　the　time　we　got　a　chopper　up；　it　was　too　late。〃
　〃Sounds　like　you　boys　fucked　up。〃
　〃We　prefer　to　think　of　it　as　a　missed　opportunity。〃　Garcia　smiled。　〃Very　good　coffee。　Colombian？〃
　〃Yeah；〃　Dennis　Gault　said。　He　dumped　a　squirt　of　vodka　into　his　grapefruit　juice。
　〃The　reason　I'm　here；〃　Garcia　said；　〃is　I　need　you　to　tell　me　everything　about　what　happened　with　Decker。〃
　Gault　sat　down；　tugged　irritably　at　his　cherry　swimtrunks。　Garcia　figured　they　must　be　riding　clear　up　the　crack　of　his　buttocks。
　〃Hell；　I　flew　to　New　Orleans　and　gave　a　full　statement；〃　Gault　said。　〃How　many　times　do　I　have　to　go　over　it？〃
　Garcia　said；　〃I've　read　your　statement；　Mr。　Gault。　It's　fine　as　far　as　it　goes。　But；　see；　working　the　Miami　angle；　I　need　a　few　more　details。〃
　〃Such　as？〃
　〃Such　as　how　did　Decker　choose　you？〃　Garcia　was　admiring　the　empty　coffee　cup。　It　looked　like　real　china。
　Gault　said；　〃My　feelings　about　Dickie　Lockhart　were　no　secret；　Sergeant。　I'm　sure　Decker　talked　to　some　fishermen；　heard　the　stories。　Once　he　took　those　photographs；　I　was　the　logical　choice　for　a　buyer…he　knew　I　hated　Dickie；　knew　I　wanted　to　see　him　discredited。　Plus　he　knew　I　was　a　man　of　means。　He　knew　I　could　afford　his　price；　no　matter　how　ludicrous。〃
　Man　of　means。　Garcia　was　in　hog　heaven。　〃He　told　you　all　this；　Decker　did？〃
　〃No；　I　don't　recall　that　he　did。　You　asked　how　he　picked　me　and　I'm　telling　you　it　wasn't　too　damn　difficult。〃
　Garcia　said；　〃How　did　he　first　contact　you？〃
　〃He　called。〃
　〃Your　secretary　just　patched　him　right　through？〃
　〃Of　course　not；〃　Gault　said。　〃He　left　a　message。　Left　about　seventeen　messages　before　finally　I　got　fed　up　and　picked　up　the　phone。〃
　〃That's　good；〃　Garcia　said。　From　the　inside　of　his　tan　suit　coat　he　produced　a　small　notebook　and　wrote　something　down。　〃Seventeen　messages…your　secretary's　bound　to　remember　the　name；　don't　you　think？　She　probably　wrote　his　number　in　a　desk　calendar　somewhere。　Even　a　scrap　of　paper　would　be　a　help。〃
　〃I　don't　know；〃　Gault　said。　〃That　was　weeks　ago。　She　probably　tossed　it　by　now。〃
　Al　Garcia　left　his　notebook　open　on　his　lap　while　Gault　repeated　his　story　that　R。　J。　Decker　had　demanded　one　hundred　thousand　dollars　for　the　photographs　of　Dickie　Lockhart　cheating。
　〃I　told　him　he　was　nuts；〃　Gault　said。　〃I　told　him　to　take　a　flying　fuck。〃
　〃But　you　saw　the　pictures。〃
　〃Yeah；　and　it　was　Dickie；　all　right；　pulling　fish　cages　in　a　lake　somewhere。　Illegal　as　hell。〃
　Garcia　said；　〃So　why　didn't　you　buy　them？〃
　〃For　the　obvious　reasons；　that's　why。〃　Gault　pretended　to　be　insulted。
　〃Too　much　money；〃　Garcia　said。　〃That's　the　most　obvious　one。〃
　〃Forget　the　money。　It　would　have　been　wrong。〃
　〃Wrong？〃
　〃Don't　look　at　me　like　that；〃　Gault　said。　〃You're　looking　at　me　like　I　was　a　mon　criminal。〃
　Maybe　worse；　Garcia　thought。　He　had　already　decided　that　Dennis　Gault　was　a　liar。　The　question　was；　how　far　did　it　go？
　〃The　note；〃　the　detective　said。　〃Asking　for　a　hundred　grand…〃
　〃I　gave　it　to　the　cops　in　New　Orleans。〃
　〃Yes；　I　know。　But　I　was　wondering　what　Decker　meant…remember　he　used　the　word　'fee'。　Like　it　was　a　real　case。　He　said；　'The　fee　is　now　a　hundred　grand；'　something　like　that。〃
　Gault　said；　〃Hell；　I　knew　exactly　what　he　meant。〃
　〃Sure；　but　I　was　thinking…why　he　didn't　use　the　word　'price'？　I　mean；　he　was　talking　about　the　price　of　the　photographs；　wasn't　he？　It　just　seemed　like　a　funny　choice　of　words。〃
　〃Not　to　me；〃　Gault　said。
　〃When　did　he　give　you　the　note？〃
　〃Same　day　he　showed　me　the　pictures。　January　7；　I　guess　it　was。〃　Gault　got　up　and　went　to　the　bathroom。　When　he　came　back　he　was　wearing　a　monogrammed　terrycloth　robe　over　the　skimpy　red　thong。　It　had　gotten　chillier　in　the　apartment。
　〃After　I　told　Decker　to　get　lost；　he　went　right　to　Lockhart　for　all　the　marbles。　It　was　pure　blackmail：　Pay　me　or　I　give　the　pictures　to　my　pals　at　the　newspaper。　Naturally　Dickie　paid…the　poor　schmuck　had　no　choice。〃
　Garcia　said；　〃How　do　you　know　all　this？〃
　Gault　laughed　caustically　and　slapped　his　hands　on　his　knees。　〃From　R。　J。　Decker！〃　he　said。　〃Decker　told　my　sister　Elaine。　Turns　out　he　was　banging　her…I'm　sure　New　Orleans　must've　filled　you　in。　Anyway；　Decker　told　Elaine　he　squeezed　thirty　grand　out　of　Dickie　before　Dickie　cut　him　off。　At　the　tournament　Decker　went　to　see　him　about　it；　and　you　know　the　rest。〃
　〃Decker　doesn't　sound　too　bright。〃
　〃Then　why　haven't　you　caught　him？〃
　〃What　I　meant；〃　Garcia　said　evenly；　〃is　that　it　wasn't　too　bright　for　him　to　blab　all　this　shit　to　your　sister。〃
　Dennis　Gault　shrugged　and　stood　up。　〃You　know　how　it　is…in　the　sack　you'll　say　anything。　Besides；　you　never　met　Elaine。　Talking　is　her　second…favorite　thing。〃　Gault　flashed　Garcia　a　sly；　frat…house　sort　of　look。　Garcia　thought　this　showed　real　class；　a　millionaire　pimping　his　own　sister。　With　each　passing　minute　the　homicide　detective　was　growing　to　doubt　Mr。　Gault's　character。
　He　said；　〃Maybe　Decker　was　just　bragging。〃
　〃Bragging；　passing　the　time；　waiting　for　his　dick　to　get　hard　again；　I　don't　know。　Whatever　the　reason；　he　told　Elaine。〃　Gault　took　Garcia's　coffee　cup。　〃What　about　Decker's　partner；　this　Skink　maniac？〃
　〃We　don't　even　know　his　real　name；〃　Garcia　said。
　〃He's　a　nut　case；　I've　met　him。　Tell　your　boys　to　be　damn　careful。〃
　〃You　bet；〃　Garcia　said；　rising。　〃Thanks　for　the　coffee。　You've　been　most　helpful。〃
　Gault　twirled　the　sash　of　his　robe　as　he　walked　the　detective　to　the　door。　〃As　you　can　tell；　I　had　no　love　for　Dickie　Lockhart。　If　anything　else　had　happened　to　him…a　plane　crash；　prostate　cancer；　AIDS…you　wouldn't　have　heard　a　peep　out　of　me。　Hell；　I　would've　thrown　a　party。　But　murder…not　even　a　cheating　motherfucker　like　Dickie　deserved　to　be　murdered　in　cold　blood。　That's　why　I　went　to　the　police。〃
　〃Sort　of　a　civic　duty；〃　Garcia　said。
　〃Exactly。〃　Before　Gault　said　good…bye；　something　occurred　to　him：　It　would　be　best　to　end　the　interview　on　a　light　and　friendly　note。　He　said　to　Garcia；　〃You're　from　Cuba；　right？〃
　〃A　long　time　ago。〃
　〃There's　some　hellacious　fishing　down　there；　south　of　Havana。　Castro　himself　is　a　nut　for　largemouth　bass；　did　you　know　that？〃
　〃I　read　something　about　it。〃
　Gault　said；　〃For　years　I've　been　trying　to　pull　some　strings　and　wrangle　an　invitation；　but　it's　damn　tough　in　my　position。　I'm　in　the　sugar　business；　as　you　know。　The　Bearded　One　doesn't　send　us　many　valentines。〃
　〃Well；　you're　the　petition；〃　Garcia　said。
　〃Still；　I'm　dying　to　try　for　a　Cuban　bass。　I've　heard　stories　of　sixteen…；　eighteen…pound　hawgs。　What's　the　name　of　that　famous　lake？〃
　Garcia　said；　〃I　forget。〃
　〃Did　you　do　much　fishing；〃　Gault　asked；　〃when　you　lived　there？〃
　〃I　was　just　a　small　boy；〃　Garcia　said。　〃My　great…uncle　did　some　fishing；　though。〃
　〃Is　that　right？〃
　〃He　was　a　mullet　man。〃
　〃Oh。〃
　〃He　sold　marlin　baits　to　Hemingway。〃
　〃No　shit！〃　Dennis　Gault　said。　Now　he　was　impressed。　〃I　saw　a　movie　about　Hemingway　once；〃　he　said。　〃Starred　that　Patton　guy。〃
　
　Back　at　police　headquarters；　Al　Garcia　sat　down　at　his　desk　and　slipped　a　cassette　into　a　portable　tape　recorder。　The　date　of　January　7　had　been　written　in　pencil　on　the　label　of　the　cassette。　It　was　one　of　three　used　in　R。　J。　Decker's　answering　machine。　Garcia　had　picked　them　up　at　the　trailer　after　he　got　the　search　warrant。
　He　closed　the　door　to　his　office；　and　turned　the　volume　on　the　tape　machine　up　to　number　ten　on　the　dial。　Then　he　lit　a　cigarette　and　pressed　the　Play　button。
　There　were　a　few　seconds　of　scratchy　blank　tape；　followed　by　the　sound　of　a　phone　ringing。　The　fourth　ring　was　interrupted　by　a　metallic　click　and　the　sound　of　R。　J。　Decker's　voice：　〃I'm　not　home　now。　Please　leave　a　message　at　the　tone。〃
　The　first　caller　was　a　woman：　〃Rage；　it's　me。　James　is　on　another　trip　and　I'm　in　the　mood　for　pasta。　How　about　Rita's　at　nine？〃
　In　his　notebook　Garcia　wrote：　Ex…wife。
　The　second　caller　was　also　a　woman：　〃R。J。；　it's　Barbara。　I'm　sorry　about　canceling　the　other　night。　How　about　a　drink　later　to　make　up　for　it？〃
　Garcia　wrote：　Some　girl。
　The　third　caller　was　a　man：　〃Mr。　Decker；　you　probably　don't　know　me　but　I　know　of　you。　I　need　a　private　investigator；　and　you　e　highly　remended。　Call　me　as　soon　as　possible…I　guarantee　it'll　be　worth　your　time。　The　number　is　555…3400。　The　name　is　Dennis　Gault。〃
　In　his　notebook　Al　Garcia　wrote：　Bad　guy。
　
　For　several　days　Decker　and　Skink　stayed　inside　the　hotel　room；　waiting　for　things　to　cool　off。　Decker　had　done　what　he　could　over　the　phone；　and　was　eager　to　get　on　the　road。　For　his　part；　Skink　had　shrunk　into　a　silent　and　lethargic　melancholy；　and　exhibited　no　desire　to　do　anything　or　go　anywhere。
　Finally；　the　afternoon　Catherine　arrived；　Skink　briefly　came　to　life。　He　went　outside　and　stood　on