cc.floodtide-第66部分

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vor　of　a　river　town　much　like　those　along　the　Missouri　and　Ohio　rivers；　with　the　majority　of　the　buildings　facing　water。
　
　A　procession　of　fishing　boats　passed。　The　sharp…prowed　boats；　with　high　freeboards　and　the　cabins　mounted　well　forward；　masts　and　net　booms　aft　on　the　stern；　were　heading　into　deep　water　in　the　Gulf。　The　boats　that　stayed　in　shallower　water　had　flat　bottoms　for　less　draft；　lower　freeboards；　rounded　bows　with　the　masts　forward　and　little　cabins　at　the　stern。　Both　types　trawled　for　shrimp。　Oyster　luggers　were　another　breed。　Since　they　mostly　worked　the　inland　waters　they　had　no　masts。　One　chugged　by　the　NUMA　jet　boat；　its　decks　barely　above　the　surface　and　heaped　with　a　small　mountain　of　unshucked　oyster　shells　piled　six　to　seven　feet　high。
　
　〃Where　do　you　want　to　be　dropped　off？〃　asked　Gunn；　who　sat　behind　the　wheel　of　the　propless　runabout。
　〃The　nearest　waterfront　saloon　would　be　a　good　place　to　meet　the　river　men；〃　said　Pitt。
　
　Giordino　pointed　toward　a　rambling　block　of　wooden　structures　stretching　along　a　dock。　A　neon　sign　over　one　building　read；　
　CHARLIE'S　FISH　DOCK；　SEAFOOD　AND　BOOZE。　
　〃Looks　like　our　kind　of　place。〃
　〃The　packing　house　next　door　must　be　where　fishermen　bring　their　catch；〃　Pitt　observed。　〃As　good　a　spot　as　any　to　ask　about　unusual　goings…on　upriver。〃
　Gunn　slowed　the　runabout　and　steered　her　between　a　small　fleet　of　trawlers　before　ing　to　a　stop　at　the　bottom　of　a　wooden　ladder。　〃Good　luck；〃　he　said；　smiling；　as　Pitt　and　Giordino　began　climbing　onto　the　dock。　〃Don't　forget　to　write。〃
　〃We'll　stay　in　touch；〃　Pitt　assured　him。
　Gunn　waved；　pushed　away　from　the　dock　and　turned　the　little　jet　boat　back　downriver　toward　the　Marine　Denizen。
　The　dock　reeked　of　fish；　the　authentic　aroma　made　even　more　pungent　by　the　nighttime　humidity。　Giordino　nodded　at　a　hill　of　shucked　oyster　shells　that　rose　almost　to　the　roof　of　the　waterfront　bar　and　cafe〃。　〃A　Dixie　beer　and　a　dozen　succulent
　Gulf　oysters　would　suit　me　just　fine　about　now；〃　he　said　in　happy　anticipation。
　〃I'll　bet　their　gumbo　is　world…class　too。〃
　Walking　through　the　doors　of　Charlie's　Fish　Dock　saloon　was　like　walking　back　in　time。　The　ancient　air…conditioning　had　long　ago　lost　the　war　against　human　sweat　and　tobacco　smoke。　The　wooden　floor　was　worn　smooth　from　the　tread　of　fisherman　boots　and　was　scarred　by　hundreds　of　cigarette　burns。　The　tables　that　had　been　cut　and　varnished　from　the　hatch　covers　of　old　boats　showed　their　share　of　cigarette　bums；　too。　The　tired　captain's　chairs　looked　patched　and　glued　after　years　of　bar　fights。　Covering　the　walls　were　rusty　metal　signs　advertising　everything　from　Aunt　Bea's　Ginger　Ale　to　Old　South　Whiskey　to　Goober's　Bait　Shack。　All　had　been　liberally　peppered　with　bullet　holes　at　one　time　or　another。　There　were　none　of　the　modern　promotional　beer　signs　that　proliferated　in　most　watering　holes　around　the　country。　The　shelves　behind　　the　bar；　which　held　nearly　a　hundred　different　brands　of　liquor；　some　distilled　locally；　looked　like　they　had　been　haphazardly　nailed　to　the　wall　during　the　Civil　War。　The　bar　came　from　the　deck　of　a　long…abandoned　fishing　boat　and　could　have　used　a　good　caulking　job。
　
　The　clientele　was　a　mixed　bag　of　fishermen；　local　boatyard　and　construction　workers；　and　oilmen　who　worked　the　offshore　rigs。　They　were　a　rugged　lot。　This　was　the　land　of　the　Cajuns；　and　several　conversed　in　French。　Two　big　dogs　snoozed　peacefully　under　an　empty　table。　At　least　thirty　men　filled　the　bar　with　no　women　to　be　seen；　not　even　a　barmaid。　All　drinks　were　served　by　the　bartender。　No　glasses　came　with　the　beer。　You　either　got　a　bottle　or　a　can。　Only　the　liquor　rated　a　cracked　and　chipped　glass。　A　waiter　who　looked　as　if　he　wrestled　on　Thursday　nights　at　the　local　arena　served　the　food。
　〃What　do　you　think？〃　Pitt　asked　Giordino。　〃Now　I　know　where　old　cockroaches　go　to　die。〃
　〃Just　remember　to　smile　and　say　'sir'　to　any　of　these　hulks　who　ask　you　the　time。〃
　〃This　would　be　the　last　place　I'd　start　a　fight；〃　Giordino　　agreed。
　〃Good　thing　we're　not　dressed　like　tourists　off　a　cruise　ship；〃　said　Pitt；　reexamining　the　soiled　and　patched　work　clothes　the　crew　of　the　Marine　Denizen　had　scrounged　together　for　them。　〃Though　I　doubt　it　makes　any　difference。　They　know　we　don't　belong　by　the　clean　smell。〃
　〃I　knew　it　was　a　mistake　to　bathe　last　month；〃　Giordino　said　wryly。
　Pitt　bowed　and　gestured　toward　an　empty　table。　〃Shall　we　dine？〃
　〃Yes；　let's；〃　Giordino　countered　with　a　bow　as　he　pulled　back　a　chair　and　sat　down。
　After　twenty　minutes　with　no　service；　Giordino　yawned　and　said；　〃It　would　appear　our　waiter　has　refined　the　professional　technique　of　pretending　not　to　notice　our　table。〃
　〃He　must　have　heard　you；〃　Pitt　said；　grinning。　〃Here　he　es。〃
　The　waiter　approached　them；　dressed　only　in　cutoff　jeans　and　wearing　a　T…shirt　with　a　longhorn　steer　skiing　down　a　hill　of　brown　that　said；　IF　GOD　MEANT　TEXANS　TO　SKI；　HE'D　HAVE　MADE　COWSHIT　WHITE。
　〃Can　I　get　you　something　from　the　kitchen？〃　he　asked　in　a　surprisingly　high…pitched　voice。
　〃How　about　a　dozen　oysters　and　a　Dixie　beer？〃　said　Giordino。
　〃You　got　it；〃　answered　the　waiter。　〃And　you？〃
　〃A　bowl　of　your　famous　gumbo。〃
　The　waiter　grunted。　〃I　didn't　know　it　was　famous；　but　it　is　good…tastin'。　Whatta　you　want　to　drink？〃
　〃Got　tequila　behind　the　bar？〃
　〃Sure；　we　get　a　lot　of　Central　American　fishermen　in　here。〃
　〃Tequila　on　the　rocks　with　a　lime。〃
　The　waiter　turned　and　began　walking　toward　the　kitchen；　but　not　before　he　looked　at　them　and　said；　〃I'll　be　back。〃
　〃I　hope　he　doesn't　think　he's　Arnold　Schwarzenegger　and　drives　a　car　through　the　wall；〃　Giordino　muttered。
　〃Relax；〃　said　Pitt。　〃Enjoy　the　local　color；　the　ambience；　the　smoke…filled　environment。〃
　〃I　might　as　well　take　advantage　of　the　stale　atmosphere　and　add　to　it；〃　said　Giordino；　lighting　up　one　of　his　exotic　cigars。
　
　Pitt　surveyed　the　room；　searching　for　an　appropriate　character　to　probe　for　information。　He　eliminated　a　group　of　oil　riggers　gathered　round　one　end　of　the　bar　and　who　were　playing　pool。　The　dockyard　workers　were　a　good　possibility；　but　they　did　not　look　like　they　took　kindly　to　strangers。　He　began　focusing　on　the　fishermen。　A　number　of　them　were　sitting　at　munity　tables　pulled　together　and　playing　poker。　An　older　man；　in　what　Pitt　guessed　was　his　mid…sixties；　straddled　a　chair　nearby　but　did　not　join　in。　He　played　the　role　of　a　loner；　but　　there　was　a　humorous　and　friendly　gleam　in　his　blue…green　eyes。　His　hair　was　gray　and　matched　a　mustache　that　fell　and　met　a　beard　around　the　chin。　He　watched　the　others　as　they　tossed　their　money　on　the　poker　table　as　though　he　was　a　psychologist　studying　behavioral　patterns　of　laboratory　mice。　　　　　　　　
　
　The　waiter　brought　the　drinks；　no　tray；　a　glass　in　one　hand　　　　　　and　a　bottle　in　the　other。　Pitt　looked　up　and　asked；　〃What　brand　of　tequila　did　the　bartender　have？〃
　〃I　think　it's　called　Pancho　Villa。〃
　〃If　I　know　my　tequilas；　Pancho　Villa　es　in　a　plastic　bottle。〃
　The　waiter　twisted　his　lips　as　if　trying　to　dredge　up　a　vision　seen　many　years　previously。　Then　his　face　lit　up。　〃Yeah；　you're　right。　It　does　e　in　a　plastic　bottle。　Great　medicine　for　what　ails　you。〃
　〃Nothing　ails　me　at　the　moment；〃　said　Pitt。
　Giordino　came　as　close　to　a　smirk　as　he　could　get。　〃How　much　residue　lies　on　the　bottom　of　the　bottle；　and　how　much　does　it　cost？〃
　〃I　bought　a　bottle　in　the　Sonoran　Desert　during　the　Inca　Gold　project　for　a　dollar　sixty…seven；〃　said　Pitt。
　〃Is　it　safe　to　drink？〃
　Pitt　held　his　glass　up　to　the　light　before　taking　a　healthy　swallow。　Then　he　jokingly　crossed　his　eyes　and　said；　〃Any　port　in　a　storm。〃
　
　The　waiter　returned　from　the　kitchen　with　Giordino's　oysters　along　with　Pitt's　gumbo。　They　decided　on　a　main　course　of　jambalaya　and　catfish。　The　Gulf　oysters　were　so　large　that　Giordino　had　to　cut　them　apart　as　he　would　a　steak。　Pitt's　bowl　of　gumbo　would　have　satisfied　a　hungry　lion。　After　stuffing　their　stomachs　with　a　heaping　platter　of　jambalaya；　then　ordering　another　Dixie　beer　and　Pancho　Villa　tequila；　they　sat　at　the　table　and　loosened　their　belts。
　
　All　during　dinner；　Pitt　had　rarely　taken　his　eyes　off　the　old　man　observing　the　poker　players。　〃Who's　the　old　fellow　over　there　straddling　the　chair？〃　he　asked　the　waiter。　〃I　know　him　but　can't　place　where　we　met。〃
　The　waiter　swiveled　his　eyes　around　the　bar；　stopping　them　on　the　old　man。　〃Oh；　him。　He　owns　a　fleet　of　fishing　boats。
　Mostly　trawls　for　crab　and　shrimp。　Owns　a　big　catfish　farm；　too。　Wouldn't　know　it　to　look　at　him；　but　he's　a　wealthy　man。〃
　〃Do　you　know　if　he　charters　boats？〃
　〃Dunno。　You'll　have　to　ask　him。〃
　Pitt　looked　at　Giordino。　〃Why　don't　you　work　the　bar　and　see　if　you　can　learn　where　Qin　Shang　Maritime's　towboats　dump　their　trash？〃
　〃And　you？〃
　〃I'll　ask　about　the　dredging　operations　upriver。〃
　Giordino　nodded　silently　and　rose　from　the　table。　Soon　he　was　laughing　amid　several　fishermen；　regaling　them　with　inflated　stories　of　his　fishing　days　off　California。　Pitt　moved　over　to　the　old　fisherman　and　stood　beside　him。
　〃Excuse　me；　sir；　but　I　wonder　if　I　might　have　a　word　with　you。〃
　The　gray…bearded　man's　blue…green　eyes　slowly　examined　Pitt　from　his　belt　buckle　to　his　black　curly　hair。　Then　he　nodded　slowly；　rose　from　his　chair　and　motioned　Pitt　to　a　booth　in　one　corner　of　the　bar。　After　he　settled　in　and　ordered　another　beer；　the　fisherman　said；　〃What　can　I　do　for　you　Mr。。。。〃
　〃Pitt。〃
　〃Mr。　Pitt。　You're　not　from　around　the　bayou　country。〃
　〃No；　I'm　with　the　National　Underwater　and　Marine　Agency　out　of　Washington。〃
　〃You　doing　marine　research？〃
　〃Not　this　trip；〃　said　Pitt。　〃My　colleagues　and　I　are　cooperating　with　the　Immigration　Service　in　trying　to　stop　the　illegal　smuggling　of　aliens。〃
　The　old　man　pulled　a　cigar　stub　from　the　pocket　of　an　old　windbreaker　and　lit　it。　〃How　can　I　help？〃
　〃I　would　like　to　charter　a　boat　to　investigate　an　excavation　upriver…〃
　〃The　canal　dug　by　Qin　Shang　Maritime　for　landfill　at　Sung…ari？〃　the　fisherman　interrupted　knowledgeably。
　〃The　same。〃
　〃Not　much　to　see；〃　said　the　fisherman。　〃Except　a　big　ditch　where　the　Mystic　Bayou　used　to　be。　Folks　call　it　the　Mystic　Canal　now。〃
　〃I　can't　b