scoonts.theminotaur-第13部分

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　The　interior　of　the　courthouse　was　massive　and　calm。　The　ceilings　were　at　least　fifteen　high。　Even　the　interior　walls　were　thick；　substantial；　built　to　last。　He　examined　the　signs　on　the　wooden　doors　and　settled　on　the　circuit　clerk's　office。　Inside　he　asked；　〃Where　do　I　find　the　prosecuting　attorney？〃
　〃Across　the　street　on　the　left　end　of　the　block。　He　has　an　office　above　the　liquor　store。　Cookman's　his　name。〃　The　lady　smiled。
　〃And　the　state　police？〃
　〃Out　of　the　courthouse；　turn　right　and　go　three　blocks；　then　another　right　and　down　about　a　half　mile。　The　barracks　is　a　nice　little　brick　building。　You　can't　miss　it。〃
　Standing　in　front　of　the　courthouse　beside　the　statue　of　a　World　War　I　doughboy；　Jake　decided　to　walk　to　the　state　police　barracks　first。　The　first　three　blocks　were　along　the　main　drag；　by　stores　and　empty　display　windows。　The　decay　of　the　American　Main　Street　had　reached　this　little　munity　too。　When　he　turned　right　he　left　the　mercial　district　and　found　himself　in　a　quiet　residential　area。　As　he　passed　modest　houses　with　trees　in　the　lawns　and　pickups　and　motorcycles　in　the　drive；　he　could　hear　dogs　barking　and　occasionally　a　snatch　of　talk　show　from　an　open　door。
　The　police　barracks　had　American　and　West　Virginia　flags　flying　on　large　poles　in　front；　beside　an　empty　parking　area　festooned　with　signs　and　plastic　barriers　for　driving　tests。　Inside　there　wasn't　a　cop　in　sight。　The　girl　behind　the　desk　looked　like　she　was　barely　out　of　high　school。
　〃Hi；　I'd　like　to　get　a　copy　of　an　accident　report　from　a　couple　months　ago。〃
　〃Did　it　happen　in　the　city　or　out　in　the　county？〃
　〃Outside　the　city。〃
　〃You've　e　to　the　right　place。〃　She　smiled。　〃I　need　the　names　of　the　parties　involved；　or　at　least　one　of　them。〃
　〃Harold　Strong。〃
　〃Just　a　moment。〃　She　selected　a　drawer　in　a　large　file　cabinet　and　began　looking。　〃All　we　have　are　copies；　of　course。　The　originals　go　to　DMV　in　Charleston。　We're　not　even　required　to　keep　copies　but　we　do　because　the　lawyers　and　insurance　adjusters　always　want　to　see　them。　Are　you　a　lawyer？〃
　〃Uh；　no。　I　was　a　friend　of　Captain　Strong's。〃
　〃Here　it　is。〃　She　looked　at　it　as　she　walked　toward　the　counter。　〃He　was　in　the　navy；　wasn't　he。〃
　Her　ment　was　a　statement；　not　a　question；　but　he　responded　anyway。　〃Yes；　he　was。〃
　She　laid　the　report　on　the　counter　in　front　of　him。　〃That's　our　office　copy　and　our　copy　machine　is　out　of　order。　There's　one　up　in　the　county　clerk's　office；　where　they　keep　the　deeds　and　all？〃　He　nodded。　〃But　you　need　to　leave　your　driver's　license　with　me。〃　She　smiled　apologetically。　〃So　many　people　forget　to　bring　our　copy　back。〃
　He　dug　out　his　wallet　and　extracted　his　license。　She　didn't　even　look　at　it。　〃Thanks。　I'll　be　back　in　a　bit。〃
　Very　nicely　done；　he　thought　as　he　walked　the　half　mile　back　toward　the　main　street。　No　doubt　before　he　got　out　of　Romney　he　would　be　talking　to　a　state　trooper。　He　looked　at　the　name　on　the　report。　Trooper　Keadle。
　There　was　an　unpadded　bench　in　the　corridor　outside　the　county　clerk's　office　and　he　settled　there。　The　report　consisted　of　three　pages。　The　first　was　a　form　with　blanks　to　be　filled　in　and　a　diagram　where　the　investigating　officer　drew　little　cars　and　arrows　to　show　what　he　believed　happened。　The　next　two　pages　were　merely　handwritten　ments　of　the　investigating　office。　Keadle　had　a　neat　hand…he　obviously　hadn't　ruined　his　penmanship　with　years　of　furious　note…taking。
　The　report　was　straightforward；　devoid　of　bureaucratese。　Jake　read　it　a　second　time　slowly；　studying　the　words。　According　to　Admiral　Henry　the　prosecuting　attorney　had　had　a　hand　in　this　report；　which　〃would　not　preclude　a　homicide　prosecution。〃　That　could　only　mean　that　none　of　the　critical　facts　were　omitted。　A　half…smart　defense　lawyer　would　raise　holy　hell　if　the　prosecutor　asked　the　trooper　to　testify　about　facts　that　he　had　〃forgotten〃　to　put　in　the　official　report。
　What　was　in　the　report？　Marks　on　the　highway　where　it　appeared　tires　may　have　broken　their　regular　grip　with　the　pavement　and　spun　under　power。　No　skid　marks：　wet　pavement　prevented　that　Deep　trenches　in　the　gravel；　some　of　which　went　all　the　way　to　the　edge；　presumably　from　skidding　tires。　Marks　in　the　earth　where　the　Corolla　went　over　the　edge。　Wooden　guardrails　had　been　chain…sawed　several　days　before　the　accident；　presumably　by　vandals　or　parties　unknown；　see　previous　report　of　sheriff's　deputy。　Fire　in　Corolla　passenger　partment　very　intense；　body　burned　beyond　recognition　and　identified　with　help　of　FBI　forensic　lab。　No　mention　of　why　or　when　the　FBI　was　notified。　Dents　and　scrape　marks　all　over　the　vehicle。　Finally；　Corolla　still　structurally　intact　but　gutted　by　fire。
　No　mention　of　the　Corolla's　fuel　tank。　But　the　trooper　could　certainly　testify　that　the　fuel　tank；　like　the　car's　frame；　was　intact。　No　speculation　on　or　estimate　of　how　fast　the　Corolla　would　have　had　to　be　going　up　that　mountain　to　slide　all　the　way　across　the　overlook　area。　Did　he　explain　that　the　Corolla　was　ascending　the　grade？　Yes；　on　page　one。
　No　speculation　about　the　cause　of　this　single…car　accident　and　no　speculation　anywhere　that　another　vehicle　might　be　involved。
　He　took　the　report　into　the　office　beside　him　and　had　it　copied。　They　charged　him　thirty　cents。　He　was　tempted　to　use　the　car　to　return　the　original　report　but　decided　the　exercise　would　be　good　for　him。　As　he　approached　the　police　building；　a　trooper　was　parking　his　car　in　a　reserved　spot。
　〃Thanks；〃　he　told　the　girl　at　the　desk。　She　handed　him　his　driver's　license；　which　had　been　lying　on　the　counter　beside　the　police　radio　microphone。
　The　door　behind　Jake　opened。　〃Hi；　Susie。〃　Jake　turned。　The　trooper　was　clad　in　a　green　uniform　and　wore　a　short　green　nylon　jacket。　He　was　somewhere　between　thirty　and　thirty…five　years　of　age；　with　a　tanned；　clean…shaven　face　and　short　military　haircut。　He　stood　several　inches　taller　than　Jake　and　was　built　heavier。　On　the　left　breast　of　his　coat　was　a　silver　name　tag：　Keadle。　〃Hello；〃　he　said；　addressing　the　greeting　to　Jake。
　〃Hi。〃
　〃This　is　Mr。　Jacob　L。　Grafton　of　Arlington；　Virginia；〃　the　girl　said。　〃He　was　a　friend　of　Captain　Strong's。〃
　〃Izzatso？〃　The　trooper's　eyes　swept　him　again；　more　carefully。　〃Why　don'tcha　step　into　this　other　room　here　for　a　minute。　Susie；　how　about　getting　us　both　coffee。　White　or　black？〃　he　said　to　Jake。
　〃Black。〃
　〃Black　it　is；〃　he　said；　and　led　the　way　behind　the　counter　and　through　a　door　into　an　adjoining　office。　His　big　revolver　swung　freely　below　his　jacket　in　a　brown　holster　that　hung　halfway　down　his　right　leg。
　〃Captain　Strong　had　a　little　cabin　a　few　miles　east　of　here　for　weekends　and　all；〃　the　trooper　said。　〃I　knew　him　to　speak　to。　Helluva　nice　guy。　Too　bad　about　that　wreck。〃
　Jake　nodded　and　sank　onto　an　old　sofa　with　the　stuffing　ing　through　the　cracks　in　the　vinyl。
　〃You　in　the　navy　too？〃　the　trooper　asked。
　Jake　took　out　his　wallet　and　extracted　his　green　ID　card。　He　passed　it　across。　The　trooper　looked　it　over；　both　sides；　then　handed　it　back。　〃Why'd　you　e　up　here；　Captain　Grafton？〃
　〃Were　you　ever　in　the　service？〃
　〃Marines；　four　years。　Why？〃
　〃Just　curious。〃
　The　door　opened　and　Susie　came　in　with　coffee　in　Styrofoam　cups。　Both　men　thanked　her　and　she　pulled　the　door　shut　on　her　way　out。
　〃Let's　try　it　again。　Why'd　you　e　up　here；　Captain　Grafton？〃
　〃To　get　a　copy　of　this　report。〃
　Keadle　thought　about　that　for　a　bit；　then　said；　〃Well；　you　got　one。　What　do　you　think　of　it？〃
　〃It　was　a　strange　accident。〃
　〃How　so？〃
　〃Car　going　up　a　steep；　curvy　road　on　a　rainy　evening　goes　skidding　off　the　pavement　and　across　a　fifty…foot…wide　gravel　turnout。　Right　over　the　edge。　Then　there's　a　furious　fire　in　the　passenger　partment。〃
　〃What's　strange　about　that？〃
　〃He　must　have　been　flying　low　that　night。　Or　else　somebody　pushed　him　over　the　edge。　And　an　interior　fire…I　thought　that　stuff　only　happened　in　movies。　Wrecked　cars　rarely　explode　or　catch　fire。〃
　〃You　don't　say。　If　it　wasn't　an　accident；　who　wanted　Captain　Strong　dead？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　I　dropped　in　to　see　if　you　did。〃
　〃I'm　just　a　rural　peace　officer；　not　some　big…city　detective。　This　county　don't　have　much　real　crime。　Seems　that　most　of　the　scumbags　just　do　their　thing　over　in　Washington。　I'm　not…〃
　〃Let's　cut　the　bullshit。　Why　aren't　you　investigating　an　apparent　homicide？〃
　〃Who　says　I'm　not？　I'm　sitting　here　chinning　with　you；　ain't　I？〃
　Jake　sipped　on　his　coffee。　Finally　he　said；　〃Well；　you　got　any　more　questions？〃
　〃Gimme　your　address　and　phone　number。〃　Keadle　picked　up　a　pad　of　paper　and　a　pen　from　the　desk。　〃If　I　think　of　any　I'll　give　you　a　call。〃
　Jake　told　him　the　number。　〃Susie　already　gave　you　my　address　from　my　driver's　license。〃　He　stood　and　drained　his　coffee。　〃Thanks　for　the　coffee。　I　hope　you　catch　him。〃
　Keadle　looked　at　him　with　pursed　lips。
　Jake　opened　the　door　and　walked　out。　He　nodded　at　Susie　as　he　went　by。
　The　red　flag　was　up　on　the　Main　Street　parking　meter　but　no　ticket　yet。　It　was　almost　noon。　Perhaps　be　should　stop　and　see　if　the　prosecutor　was　in　his　office。　But　what　good　would　that　do？
　There　was　no　way　he　could　make　it　back　to　the　office　before　everyone　left　for　the　day。　Perhaps　a　hamburger。　He　fed　the　meter　another　quarter　and　walked　down　Main　Street　toward　a　cafe　that　he　had　noticed　near　the　courthouse。　Before　he　got　there　Trooper　Keadle　went　by　in　a　state　police　cruiser。
　When　he　finished　his　lunch　Jake　drove　east　on　the　road　back　to　Washington。　Somewhere　off　one　of　these　side　roads；　between　here　and　the　accident　site；　Harold　Strong　had　had　a　cabin。　He　wished　he　had　thought　of　finding　the　cabin　and　stopping　by　before　he　went　to　town。
　Who　are　you　kidding；　Jake？　What　would　you　look　for？　A　long　golden　hair　on　the　bedspread？　Perhaps　a　sterling　silver　cigarette　case　bearing　Mata　Hari's　initials？　You're　no　murder　investigator。　Keadle　has　undoubtedly　been　through　that　cabin　with　a　fine…tooth　b。　If　there　were　clues　he　has　them。
　Thoroughly　disgruntled；　Jake　drove　at　forty　miles　an　hour　along　the　two…lane　highway　toward　Virginia。　He　didn't　want　to　see　Trooper　Keadle　in　the　rearview　mirror　with　his　red　light　flashing。　Not　too　likely；　of　course。　The　odds　were　that　Keadle　was　sitting　in