jg.thepelicanbrief-第46部分

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he's　a　madman。〃
　　
　　〃He　is　a　madman。〃
　　
　　〃Yes；　he　is。　And　right　now　he's　like　a　wounded　dog　backed　in　a　corner。　You　must　convince　him　to　throw　in　the　towel；　and　haul　ass。　I　think　he'll　listen　to　you。　And　I　think　we'll　find　out　from　him　if　it's　true。〃
　　
　　〃So　how　do　I　find　him？〃
　　
　　〃I've　got　a　man　working　on　that。　I'll　pull　some　strings；　and　make　a　contact。　Be　ready　to　go　on　Sunday。〃　
　　
　　Barr　smiled　to　the　window。　He　would　like　to　meet　Mattiece。　
　　
　　The　traffic　slowed。　Coal　slowly　sipped　his　water。　〃Anything　on　Grantham？〃
　　
　　〃Not　really。　We're　listening　and　watching；　but　nothing　exciting。　He　talks　to　his　mother　and　a　couple　of　gals；　but　nothing　worth　reporting。　He　works　a　lot。　He　left　town　Wednesday　and　returned　Thursday。〃
　　
　　〃Where　did　he　go？〃
　　
　　〃New　York。　Probably　working　on　some　story。〃　
　　
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　　CLEVE　WAS　SUPPOSED　to　be　at　the　corner　of　Rhode　Island　and　Sixth　at　exactly　10　P。M。；　but　he　wasn't。　Gray　was　supposed　to　race　down　Rhode　Island　until　Cleve　caught　him；　so　that　if　anyone　was　indeed　following　him　they　would　think　he　was　simply　a　dangerous　driver。　He　raced　down　Rhode　Island；　through　Sixth　at　fifty　miles　per　hour；　and　watched　for　blue　lights。　There　were　none。　He　looped　around；　and　fifteen　minutes　later　barreled　down　Rhode　Island　again。　There！　He　saw　blue　lights　and　pulled　to　the　curb。　
　　
　　It　was　not　Cleve。　It　was　a　white　cop　who　was　very　agitated。　He　jerked　Gray's　license；　examined　it；　and　asked　if　he'd　been　drinking。　No　sir；　he　said。　The　cop　wrote　the　ticket；　and　proudly　handed　it　to　Gray；　who　sat　behind　the　wheel　staring　at　the　ticket　until　he　heard　voices　ing　from　the　rear　bumper。　
　　
　　Another　cop　was　on　the　scene；　and　they　were　arguing。　It　was　Cleve；　and　he　wanted　the　white　cop　to　forget　the　ticket；　but　the　white　cop　explained　it　had　already　been　written　and　besides　the　idiot　was　doing　fifty…six　miles　an　hour　through　the　intersection。　He's　a　friend；　Cleve　said。　Then　teach　him　how　to　drive　before　he　kills　somebody；　the　white　cop　said　as　he　got　in　his　patrol　car　and　drove　away。　
　　
　　Cleve　was　snickering　as　he　looked　in　Gray's　window。　〃Sorry　about　that；〃　he　said　with　a　smile。
　　
　　〃It's　all　your　fault。〃
　　
　　〃Slow　it　down　next　time。〃　
　　
　　Gray　threw　the　ticket　on　the　floorboard。　〃Let's　talk　quick。　You　said　Sarge　said　the　boys　in　the　West　Wing　are　talking　about　me。　Right？〃
　　
　　〃Right。〃
　　
　　〃Okay；　I　need　to　know　from　Sarge　if　they're　talking　about　any　other　reporters；　especially　from　the　New　York　Times。　I　need　to　know　if　they　think　anybody　else　is　hot　on　the　story。〃
　　
　　〃Is　that　all？〃
　　
　　〃Yes。　I　need　it　quick。〃
　　
　　〃Slow　it　down；〃　Cleve　said　loudly　and　walked　to　his　car。　
　　
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　　DARBY　PAID　for　the　room　for　the　next　seven　days；　in　part　because　she　wanted　a　familiar　place　to　return　to　if　necessary；　and　in　part　because　she　wanted　to　leave　some　new　clothes　she　had　purchased。　It　was　sinful；　this　running　and　leaving　everything　behind。　The　clothes　were　nothing　fancy；　sort　of　upscale　safari　law　school；　but　they　cost　even　more　in　New　York；　and　it　would　be　nice　to　keep　them。　She　would　not　take　risks　over　clothes；　but　she　liked　the　room　and　she　liked　the　city　and　she　wanted　the　clothes。　
　　
　　It　was　time　to　run　again；　and　she　would　travel　light。　She　carried　a　small　canvas　bag　when　she　darted　from　the　St。　Moritz　into　a　waiting　cab。　It　was　almost　11　P。M。；　Friday；　and　Central　Park　South　was　busy。　Across　the　street；　a　line　of　horses　and　carriages　waited　for　customers　and　brief　excursions　through　the　park。　
　　
　　The　cab　took　ten　minutes　to　get　to　Seventy…second　and　Broadway；　which　was　the　wrong　direction；　but　this　entire　journey　should　be　hard　to　follow。　She　walked　thirty　feet；　and　disappeared　into　the　subway。　She　had　studied　a　map　and　a　book　of　the　system；　and　she　hoped　it　would　be　easy。　The　subway　was　not　appealing　because　she'd　never　used　it　and　she'd　heard　the　stories。　But　this　was　the　Broadway　line；　the　most　monly　used　train　in　Manhattan；　and　it　was　rumored　to　be　safe；　at　times。　And　things　weren't　so　swell　above　the　ground。　The　subway　could　hardly　be　worse。　
　　
　　She　waited　in　the　correct　spot　with　a　group　of　drunk　but　well…dressed　teenagers；　and　the　train　arrived　in　a　couple　of　minutes。　It　wasn't　crowded；　and　she　took　a　seat　near　the　center　doors。　Stare　at　the　floor　and　hold　the　bag；　she　kept　telling　herself。　She　looked　at　the　floor；　but　from　behind　the　dark　shades；　she　studied　the　people。　It　was　her　lucky　night。　No　street　punks　with　knives。　No　beggars。　No　perverts；　at　least　none　she　could　spot。　But　for　a　novice；　it　was　nerve…racking　anyway。　
　　
　　The　drunk　kids　exited　at　Times　Square；　and　she　got　off　quickly　at　the　next　stop。　She　had　never　seen　Penn　Station；　but　this　was　not　the　time　to　sightsee。　Maybe　one　day　she　could　return　and　spend　a　month　and　admire　the　city　without　watching　for　Stump　and　Thin　Man　and　who　knows　who　else　who　was　out　there。　But　not　now。　
　　
　　She　had　five　minutes；　and　found　her　train　as　it　was　boarding。　Again；　she　sat　in　the　rear　and　watched　every　passenger。　There　were　no　familiar　faces。　Surely；　please；　surely；　they　had　not　stuck　to　her　on　this　jagged　escape。　Once　again；　her　mistake　had　been　credit　cards。　She　had　bought　four　tickets　at　O'Hare　with　American　Express；　and　somehow　they　knew　she　was　in　New　York。　She　was　certain　Stump　had　not　seen　her；　but　he　was　in　the　city；　and　of　course　he　had　friends。　There　could　be　twenty　of　them。　But　then；　she　was　not　certain　of　anything。　
　　
　　The　train　left　six　minutes　late。　It　was　half　empty。　She　pulled　a　paperback　from　the　bag　and　pretended　to　read　it。　
　　
　　Fifteen　minutes　later；　they　stopped　in　Newark；　and　she　got　off。　She　was　a　lucky　girl。　There　were　cabs　lined　up　outside　the　station；　and　ten　minutes　later　she　was　at　the　airport。　
　　
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　　IT　WAS　SATURDAY　MORNING；　and　the　Queen　was　in　Florida　taking　money　from　the　rich；　and　it　was　clear　and　cool　outside。　He　wanted　to　sleep　late；　then　play　golf　whenever　he　woke　up。　But　it　was　seven；　and　he　was　sitting　at　his　desk　wearing　a　tie；　listening　to　Fletcher　Coal　suggest　what　they　ought　to　do　about　this　and　about　that。　Richard　Horton；　the　Attorney　General；　had　talked　to　Coal；　and　now　Coal　was　alarmed。　
　　
　　Someone　opened　the　door　and　Horton　entered　alone。　They　shook　hands　and　Horton　sat　across　the　desk。　Coal　stood　nearby；　and　this　really　irritated　the　President。　
　　
　　Horton　was　dull　but　sincere。　He　was　not　dumb　or　slow；　he　just　thought　carefully　about　everything　before　he　acted。　He　thought　about　each　word　before　he　said　it。　He　was　loyal　to　the　President；　and　could　be　trusted　for　sound　judgment。
　　
　　〃We　are　seriously　considering　a　formal　grand　jury　investigation　into　the　deaths　of　Rosenberg　and　Jensen；〃　he　announced　gravely。In　light　of　what's　happened　in　New　Orleans；　we　think　this　should　be　pursued　immediately。〃
　　
　　〃The　FBI　is　investigating；〃　the　President　said。　〃They've　got　three　hundred　agents　on　the　case。　Why　should　we　get　involved？〃
　　
　　〃Are　they　investigating　the　pelican　brief？〃　Horton　asked。　He　knew　the　answer。　He　knew　Voyles　was　in　New　Orleans　at　this　moment　with　hundreds　of　agents。　He　knew　they　had　talked　to　hundreds　of　people；　collected　a　pile　of　useless　evidence。　He　knew　the　President　had　asked　Voyles　to　back　off；　and　he　knew　Voyles　was　not　telling　the　President　everything。　
　　
　　Horton　had　never　mentioned　the　pelican　brief　to　the　President；　and　the　fact　that　he　even　knew　about　the　damned　thing　was　exasperating。　How　many　more　knew　about　it？　Probably　thousands。
　　
　　〃They　are　pursuing　all　leads；〃　Coal　said。　〃They　gave　us　a　copy　of　it　almost　two　weeks　ago；　so　we　assume　they're　pursuing　it。〃　
　　
　　Exactly　what　Horton　expected　out　of　Coal。　〃I　feel　strongly　that　the　Administration　should　investigate　this　matter　at　once。〃　He　spoke　as　though　this　was　all　memorized；　and　this　irritated　the　President。
　　
　　〃Why？〃　asked　the　President。
　　
　　〃What　if　the　brief　is　on　target？　If　we　do　nothing；　and　the　truth　eventually　surfaces；　the　damage　will　be　irreparable。〃
　　
　　〃Do　you　honestly　believe　there's　any　truth　to　it？〃　the　President　asked。
　　
　　〃It's　awfully　suspicious。　The　first　two　men　who　saw　it　are　dead；　and　the　person　who　wrote　it　has　disappeared。　It　is　perfectly　logical；　if　one　is　so　inclined　to　kill　Supreme　Court　Justices。　There　are　no　other　pelling　suspects。　From　what　I　hear；　the　FBI　is　baffled。　Yes；　it　needs　to　be　pursued。〃　
　　
　　Horton's　investigations　leaked　worse　than　the　White　House　basement；　and　Coal　was　terrified　of　this　clown　impaneling　a　grand　jury　and　calling　witnesses。　Horton　was　an　honorable　man；　but　the　Justice　Department　was　filled　with　lawyers　who　talked　too　much。
　　
　　〃Don't　you　think　it's　a　bit　premature？〃　Coal　asked。
　　
　　〃I　don't　think　so。〃
　　
　　〃Have　you　seen　the　papers　this　morning？〃　Coal　asked。　
　　
　　Horton　had　glanced　at　the　front　page　of　the　Post；　and　read　the　sports　section。　It　was　Saturday；　after　all。　He　had　heard　that　Coal　read　eight　newspapers　before　dawn；　so　he　didn't　like　this　question。
　　
　　〃I've　read　a　couple　of　them；〃　he　said。
　　
　　〃I've　looked　at　several；〃　Coal　said　modestly。And　there's　not　a　word　anywhere　about　those　two　dead　lawyers　or　the　girl　or　Mattiece　or　anything　related　to　the　brief。　If　you　start　a　formal　investigation　at　this　point；　it'll　be　front…page　news　for　a　month。〃
　　
　　〃Do　you　think　it　will　simply　go　away？〃　Horton　asked　Coal。
　　
　　〃It　might。　For　obvious　reasons；　we　hope　so。〃
　　
　　〃I　think　you're　optimistic；　Mr。　Coal。　We　don't　normally　sit　back　and　wait　for　the　press　to　do　our　investigating。〃　
　　
　　Coal　grinned　and　almost　laughed　at　this　one。　He　smiled　at　the　President；　who　shot　him　a　quick　look；　and　Horton　started　a　slow　burn。
　　
　　〃What's　wrong　with　waiting　a　week？〃　asked　the　President。
　　
　　〃Nothing；〃　shot　Coal。　
　　
　　Just　that　quick　the　decision　was　made　to　wait　a　week；　and　Horton　knew　it。　〃Things　could　blow　up　in　a　week；〃　he　said　without　conviction。
　　
　　〃Wait　a　week；〃　the　President　ordered。　〃We'll　meet　here　next　Friday；　and　go　from　there。　I'm　not　saying　no；　Richard；　just　wait　s