ch.doublewhammy-第37部分

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　Weeb　continued：　〃As　you　know；　for　some　time　Eddie's　been　the　host　of　his　own　popular　bass　show　on　a　peting　network。　We　are　most　pleased　to　have　stolen　him　away；　since　it　means…as　of　yesterday…an　additional　seventy…four　independent　cable　stations　switching　to　the　Outdoor　Christian　Network　for　the　uping　fishing　season。〃　Charlie　Weeb　allowed　himself　a　brief　dramatic　pause。　〃And　let　me　say　that　although　all　of　us　will　miss　Dickie　Lockhart　and　his　special　brand　of　outdoor　entertainment；　I'm　certain　that　his　fans　will　find　Eddie　Spurling　just　as　exciting；　just　as　informative；　and　just　as　much　fun　to　fish　with　every　week。　All　of　us　here　in　the　OCN　family　couldn't　be　more　pleased！〃
　Eddie　stepped　forward　and　tipped　an　invisible　cap。　He　was　looking　pretty　pleased　himself；　and　for　good　reason。　January　had　been　a　fabulous　month。　Without　winning　a　single　bass　tournament　he　had　doubled　both　his　salary　and　his　national　TV　exposure；　and　had　also　landed　the　lucrative　six…figure　endorsement　contract　for　Happy　Gland　Fish　Scent　products。　The　Happy　Gland　package　（entailing　print；　TV；　billboard；　and　radio　mercials）　was　the　envy　of　the　professional　bass…fishing　circuit；　a　prize　held　exclusively　for　the　past　five　years　by　Dickie　Lockhart。　With　Lockhart's　sudden　death；　the　Happy　Gland　people　needed　a　new　star。　The　choice　was　an　obvious　one；　the　ad　agency　didn't　even　bother　to　hold　auditions。　Henceforth　every　bottle　of　Bass　Bolero；　Mackerel　Musk；　and　Catfish　Cum　would　bear　the　grinning　likeness　of　Fast　Eddie　Spurling。
　〃Any　questions？〃　asked　Charlie　Weeb。
　The　reporters　just　looked　at　one　another。　Each　of　them　was　thinking　he　would　go　back　to　the　newsroom　and　kill　the　editor　who　sent　him　on　this　assignment。
　Weeb　said；　〃I've　saved　the　best　for　last。　Girls；　bring　out　the　visuals。〃
　Two　young　women　in　opalescent　bathing　suits　entered　the　skybox　carrying　an　immense　gold…plated　trophy。　The　trophy　easily　stood　five　feet　off　the　ground。　On　the　corners　of　the　base　of　the　trophy　were　toy…size　figures　of　anglers　holding　fishing　rods；　bent　in　varying　degrees　of　mythic　struggle。　At　the　crown　of　the　trophy　was　an　authentic　largemouth　bass　in　a　full　body　mount。　As　bass　went；　it　was　no　hawg；　but　poised　on　the　trophy　it　did　look　impressive。
　〃Well；　there！〃　said　the　Reverend　Weeb。
　〃What　did　you　win　it　for？〃　one　of　the　reporters　asked　Eddie　Spurling。
　〃I　didn't　win　it；〃　Fast　Eddie　said；　〃not　yet。〃
　〃Gentlemen；　read　what　it　says　on　the　trophy；　look　closely；〃　said　Charlie　Weeb。　〃This　is　probably　the　biggest　trophy　most　of　you　ever　saw；　including　Eddie　here；　who's　won　some　pretty　big　ones。〃
　〃None　this　big；〃　Eddie　Spurling　said　admiringly。
　〃Damn　right；〃　Weeb　said。　'That's　because　it's　the　biggest　trophy　ever。　And　it's　the　biggest　trophy　ever　because　it　goes　to　the　winner　of　the　biggest　fishing　tournament　ever。　Three　weeks　from　today；　gentlemen；　on　the　edge　of　the　legendary　Florida　Everglades；　fifty　of　the　best　bass　anglers　in　the　world　will　pete　for　a　first　prize　of　two　hundred　and　fifty　thousand　dollars。〃
　〃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