jg.thefirm-第26部分

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hey　break　for　a　couple　of　hours　and　mentioned　a　caf6　downtown　Mitch　could　try。
　　Instead　of　a　cafe；　Mitch　found　the　Georgetown　Library　four　blocks　from　the　bank。　On　the　second　floor　he　was　directed　to　the　periodicals；　where　he　found　a　shelf　full　of　old　editions　of　The　Daily　Caymanian。　He　dug　back　six　months　and　pulled　the　one　dated　June　27。　He　laid　it　on　a　small　table　by　a　window　overlooking　the　street。　He　glanced　out　the　window；　then　looked　closer。　There　was　a　man　he　had　seen　only　moments　earlier　on　the　street　by　the　bank。　He　was　behind　the　wheel　of　a　battered　yellow　Chevette　parked　in　a　narrow　drive　across　from　the　library。　He　was　a　stocky；　darkhaired；　foreign…looking　type　with　a　gaudy　green…and…orange　shirt　and　cheap　touristy　sunglasses。
　　The　same　Chevette　with　the　same　driver　had　been　parked　in　front　of　the　gift　shop　next　to　the　bank；　and　now；　moments　later；　it　was　parked　four　blocks　away。　A　native　on　a　bicycle　stopped　next　to　him　and　took　a　cigarette。　The　man　in　the　car　pointed　at　the　library。　The　native　left　his　bicycle　and　walked　quickly　across　the　street。
　　Mitch　folded　the　newspaper　and　stuck　it　in　his　coat。　He　walked　past　the　rows　of　shelves；　found　a　National　Geographic　and　sat　down　at　a　table。　He　studied　the　magazine　and　listened　carefully　as　the　native　climbed　the　stairs；　noticed　him；　walked　behind　him；　seemed　to　pause　as　if　to　catch　a　glimpse　of　what　he　was　reading；　then　disappeared　down　the　stairs。　Mitch　waited　for　a　moment；　then　returned　to　the　window。　The　native　was　taking　another　cigarette　and　talking　to　the　man　in　the　Chevette。　He　lit　the　cigarette　and　rode　away。
　　Mitch　spread　the　newspaper　on　the　table　and　scanned　the　headline　story　of　the　two　American　lawyers　and　their　dive　guide　who　had　been　killed　in　a　mysterious　accident　the　day　before。　He　made　mental　notes　and　returned　the　paper。
　　The　Chevette　was　still　watching。　He　walked　in　front　of　it；　made　the　block　and　headed　in　the　direction　of　the　bank。　The　shopping　district　was　squeezed　tightly　between　the　bank　buildings　and　Hogsty　Bay。　The　streets　were　narrow　and　crowded　with　tourists　on　foot；　tourists　on　scooters；　tourists　in　rented　pacts。　He　removed　his　coat　and　ducked　into　a　T…shirt　shop　with　a　pub　upstairs。　HeNclimbed　the　stairs；　ordered　a　Coke；　and　sat　on　the　balcony。
　　Within　minutes　the　native　with　the　bicycle　was　at　the　bar；　drinking　a　Red　Stripe　and　watching　from　behind　a　handprinted　menu。
　　Mitch　sipped　on　the　Coke　and　scanned　the　congestion　below。　No　sign　of　the　Chevette；　but　he　knew　it　was　close　by。　He　saw　another　man　stare　at　him　from　the　street；　then　disappear。　Then　a　woman。　Was　he　paranoid？　Then　the　Chevette　turned　the　corner　two　blocks　away　and　moved　slowly　beneath　him。
　　He　went　to　the　T…shirt　store　and　bought　a　pair　of　sunglasses。　He　walked　for　a　block；　then　darted　into　an　alley。　He　ran　through　the　dark　shade　to　the　next　street；　then　into　a　gift　shop。　He　left　through　the　back　door；　into　an　alley。　He　saw　a　large　clothing　store　for　tourists　and　entered　through　a　side　door。　He　watched　the　street　closely　and　saw　nothing。　The　racks　were　full　of　shorts　and　shirts　of　all　colors…　clothes　the　natives　would　not　buy　but　the　Americans　loved。　He　stayed　conservative…white　shorts　with　a　red　knit　pullover。　He　found　a　pair　of　straw　sandals　that　sort　of　matched　the　hat　he　liked。　The　clerk　giggled　and　showed　him　to　a　dressing　room。　He　checked　the　street　again。　Nothing。　The　clothes　fit；　and　he　asked　her　if　he　could　leave　his　suit　and　shoes　in　the　back　for　a　couple　of　hours。　〃No　problem；　mon；〃　she　said。　He　paid　in　cash；　slipped　her　a　ten　and　asked　her　to　call　a　cab。　She　said　he　was　very　handsome。
　　He　watched　the　street　nervously　until　the　cab　arrived。　He　darted　across　the　sidewalk；　into　the　back　seat。　〃Abanks　Dive　Lodge；〃　he　said。
　　〃That's　a　long　way；　mon。〃
　　Mitch　threw　a　twenty　over　the　seat。　〃Get　moving。　Watch　your　mirror。　If　someone　is　following；　let　me　know。〃
　　He　grabbed　the　money。　〃Okay；　mon。〃
　　Mitch　sat　low　under　his　new　hat　in　the　back　seat　as　his　driver　worked　his　way　down　Shedden　Road；　out　of　the　shopping　district；　around　Hogsty　Bay；　and　headed　east；　past　Red　Bay；　out　of　the　city　of　Georgetown　and　onto　the　road　to　Bodden　Town。
　　〃Who　are　you　running　from；　mon？〃
　　Mitch　smiled　and　rolled　down　his　window。　〃The　Internal　Revenue　Service。〃　He　thought　that　was　cute；　but　the　driver　seemed　confused。　There　were　no　taxes　and　no　tax　collectors　in　the　islands；　he　remembered。　The　driver　continued　in　silence。
　　According　to　the　paper；　the　dive　guide　was　Philip　Abanks；　son　of　Barry　Abanks；　the　owner　of　the　dive　lodge。　He　was　nineteen　when　he　was　killed。　The　three　had　drowned　when　an　explosion　of　some　sort　hit　their　boat。　A　very　mysterious　explosion。　The　bodies　had　been　found　in　eighty　feet　of　water　in　full　scuba　gear。　There　were　no　witnesses　to　the　explosion　and　no　explanations　as　to　why　it　occurred　two　miles　offshore　in　an　area　not　known　for　diving。　The　article　said　there　were　many　unanswered　questions。
　　Sodden　Town　was　a　small　village　twenty　minutes　from　Georgetown。　The　dive　lodge　was　south　of　town　on　an　isolated　stretch　of　beach。
　　〃Did　anyone　follow　us？〃　Mitch　asked。
　　The　driver　shook　his　head。
　　〃Good　job。　Here's　forty　bucks。〃　Mitch　looked　at　his　watch。　〃It's　almost　one。　Can　you　be　here　at　exactly　two…thirty？〃
　　〃No　problem；　mon。〃
　　The　road　ended　at　the　edge　of　the　beach　and　became　a　white…rock　parking　area　shaded　by　dozens　of　royal　palms。　The　front　building　of　the　lodge　was　a　large；　two…story　home　with　a　tin　roof　and　an　outer　stairway　leading　to　the　center　of　the　second　floor。　The　Grand　House；　it　was　called。　It　was　painted　a　light　blue　with　neat　white　trim；　and　it　was　partially　hidden　by　bay　vines　and　spider　lilies。　The　hand…wrought　fretwork　was　painted　pink。　The　solid　wooden　shutters　were　olive。　It　was　the　office　and　eating　room　of　Abanks　Dive　Lodge。　To　its　right　the　palm　trees　thinned　and　a　small　driveway　curved　around　the　Grand　House　and　sloped　downward　to　a　large　open　area　of　white　rock。　On　each　side　was　a　group　of　a　dozen　or　so　thatched…roof　huts　where　divers　roomed。　A　maze　of　wooden　sidewalks　ran　from　the　huts　to　the　central　point　of　the　lodge；　the　open…air　bar　next　to　the　water。
　　Mitch　headed　for　the　bar　to　the　familiar　sounds　of　reggae　and　laughter。　It　was　similar　to　Rumheads；　but　without　the　crowd。　After　a　few　minutes；　the　bartender；　Henry；　delivered　a　Red　Stripe　to　Mitch。
　　〃Where's　Barry　Abanks？〃　Mitch　asked。
　　He　nodded　to　the　ocean　and　returned　to　the　bar。　Half　a　mile　out；　a　boat　cut　slowly　through　the　still　water　and　made　its　way　toward　the　lodge。　Mitch　ate　a　cheeseburger　and　watched　the　dominoes。
　　The　boat　docked　at　a　pier　between　the　bar　a'nd　a　larger　hut　with　the　words　DIVE　SHOP　hand…painted　over　a　window。　The　divers　jumped　from　the　boat　with　their　equipment　bags　and；　without　exception；　headed　for　the　bar。　A　short；　wiry　man　stood　next　to　the　boat　and　barked　orders　at　the　deckhands；　who　were　unloading　empty　scuba　tanks　onto　the　pier。　He　wore　a　white　baseball　cap　and　not　much　else。　A　tiny　black　pouch　covered　his　crotch　and　most　of　his　rear　end。　From　the　looks　of　his　brown　leathery　skin　he　hadn't　worn　much　in　the　past　fifty　years。　He　checked　in　at　the　dive　shop；　yelled　at　the　dive　captains　and　deckhands　and　made　his　way　to　the　bar。　He　ignored　the　crowd　and　went　to　the　freezer；　where　he　picked　up　a　Heineken；　removed　the　top　and　took　a　long　drink。
　　The　bartender　said　something　to　Abanks　and　nodded　toward　Mitch。　He　opened　another　Heineken　and　walked　to　Mitch's　table。
　　He　did　not　smile。　〃Are　you　looking　for　me？〃　It　was　almost　a　sneer。
　　〃Are　you　Mr。　Abanks？〃
　　〃That's　me。　What　do　you　want？〃
　　〃I'd　like　to　talk　to　you　for　a　few　minutes。〃
　　He　gulped　his　beer　and　gazed　at　the　ocean。　〃I'm　too　busy。　I　have　a　dive　boat　leaving　in　forty　minutes。〃
　　〃My　name　is　Mitch　McDeere。　I'm　a　lawyer　from　Memphis。〃
　　Abanks　glared　at　him　with　tiny　brown　eyes。　Mitch　had　his　attention。　〃So？〃
　　〃So；　the　two　men　who　died　with　your　son　were　friends　of　mine。　It　won't　take　but　a　few　minutes。〃
　　Abanks　sat　on　a　stool　and　rested　on　his　elbows。　〃That's　not　one　of　my　favorite　subjects。〃
　　〃I　know。　I'm　sorry。〃
　　〃The　police　instructed　me　not　to　talk　to　anyone。〃
　　〃It's　confidential。　I　swear。〃
　　Abanks　squinted　and　stared　at　the　brilliant　blue　water。　His　face　and　arms　bore　the　scars　of　a　life　at　sea；　a　life　spent　sixty　feet　down　guiding　novices　through　and　around　coral　reefs　and　wrecked　ships。
　　〃What　do　you　want　to　know？〃　he　asked　softly。
　　〃Can　we　talk　somewhere　else？〃
　　〃Sure。　Let's　take　a　walk。〃　He　yelled　at　Henry　and　spoke　to　a　table　of　divers　as　he　left。　They　walked　on　the　beach。
　　〃I'd　like　to　talk　about　the　accident；〃　Mitch　said。
　　〃You　can　ask。　I　may　not　answer。〃
　　〃What　caused　the　explosion？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。　Perhaps　an　air　pressor。　Perhaps　some　fuel。　We　are　not　certain。　The　boat　was　badly　damaged　and　most　of　the　clues　went　up　in　flames。〃
　　〃Was　it　your　boat？〃
　　〃Yes。　One　of　my　small　ones。　A　thirty…footer。　Your　friends　had　chartered　it　for　the　morning。〃
　　〃Where　were　the　bodies　found？〃
　　〃In　eighty　feet　of　water。　There　was　nothing　suspicious　about　the　bodies；　except　that　there　were　no　burns　or　other　injuries　that　would　indicate　they　had　been　in　the　explosion。　So　I　guess　that　makes　the　bodies　very　suspicious。〃
　　〃The　autopsies　said　they　drowned。〃
　　〃Yes；　they　drowned。　But　your　friends　were　in　full　scuba　gear；　which　was　later　examined　by　one　of　my　divemasters。　It　worked　perfectly。　They　were　good　divers。〃
　　〃What　about　your　son？〃
　　〃He　was　not　in　full　gear。　But　he　could　swim　like　a　fish。〃
　　〃Where　was　the　explosion？〃
　　〃They　had　been　scheduled　to　dive　along　a　series　of　reef　formations　at　Roger's　Wreck　Point。　Are　you　familiar　with　the　island？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃It's　around　the　East　Bay　on　Northeastern　Point。　Your　friends　had　never　dived　there；　and　my　son　suggested　they　try　it。　We　knew　your　friends　well。　They　were　experienced　divers　and　took　it　seriously。　They　always　wanted　a　boat　by　themselves　and　didn't　mind　paying　for　it。　And　they　always　wanted　Philip　as　their　dive　captain。　We　don't　know　if　they　made　any　dives　on　the　Point。　The　boat　was　found　burning　two　miles　at　sea；　far　from　any　of　our　dive　sites。〃
　　〃Could