jg.thepelicanbrief-第7部分

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ed？〃　
　　
　　Voyles　spoke　quickly　and　to　the　point。　He　described　the　scene　at　Rosenberg's　home　when　the　bodies　were　found。　At　1　A。M。　each　night；　Sergeant　Ferguson　routinely　checked　in　with　the　agents　sitting　in　the　street。　When　he　didn't　show；　they　investigated。　The　killings　were　very　clean　and　professional。　He　described　what　he　knew　about　Jensen。　Broken　neck。　Strangulation。　Found　by　another　character　in　the　balcony。　No　one　saw　anything；　evidently。　Voyles　was　not　as　gruff　and　blunt　as　usual。　It　was　a　dark　day　for　the　Bureau；　and　he　could　feel　the　heat　ing。　But　he'd　survived　five　Presidents；　and　he　could　certainly　outmaneuver　this　idiot。
　　
　　〃The　two　are　obviously　related；〃　the　President　said；　staring　at　Voyles。
　　
　　〃Maybe。　Certainly　looks　that　way；　but〃
　　
　　e　on；　Director。　In　two　hundred　and　twenty　years；　we've　assassinated　four　Presidents；　two　or　three　candidates；　a　handful　of　civil　rights　leaders；　couple　of　governors；　but　never　a　Supreme　Court　Justice。　And　now；　in　one　night；　within　two　hours；　two　are　assassinated。　And　you're　not　convinced　they're　related？〃
　　
　　〃I　didn't　say　that。　There　must　be　a　link　somewhere。　It's　just　that　the　methods　were　so　different。　And　so　professional。　You　must　remember；　we've　had　thousands　of　threats　against　the　Court。〃
　　
　　〃Fine。　Then　who　are　your　suspects？〃　
　　
　　No　one　cross…examined　F。　Denton　Voyles。　He　glared　at　the　President。　〃It's　too　early　for　suspects。　We're　still　gathering　evidence。〃
　　
　　〃How'd　the　killer　get　into　Rosenberg's　place？〃
　　
　　〃No　one　knows。　We　didn't　watch　him　go　in；　you　understand？　Evidently；　he　was　there　for　some　time；　hiding　in　a　closet　or　an　attic；　maybe。　Again；　we　weren't　invited。　Rosenberg　refused　to　allow　us　into　his　home。　Ferguson　routinely　inspected　the　place　each　afternoon　when　the　Justice　arrived　from　work。　It's　still　too　early；　but　we've　found　no　evidence　of　the　murderer。　None；　except　three　bodies。　We'll　have　ballistics　and　autopsies　by　late　this　afternoon。〃
　　
　　〃I　want　to　see　them　here　as　soon　as　you　have　them。〃
　　
　　〃Yes；　Mr。　President。〃
　　
　　〃I　also　want　a　short　list　of　suspects　by　5　P。M。　today。　Is　that　clear？〃
　　
　　〃Certainly；　Mr。　President。〃
　　
　　〃And　I　would　like　a　report　on　your　security　and　where　it　broke　down。〃
　　
　　〃You're　assuming　it　broke　down。〃
　　
　　〃We　have　two　dead　judges；　both　of　whom　were　being　protected　by　the　FBI。　I　think　the　American　people　deserve　to　know　what　went　wrong；　Director。　Yes；　it　broke　down。〃
　　
　　〃Do　I　report　to　you；　or　the　American　people？〃
　　
　　〃You　report　to　me。〃
　　
　　〃And　then　you　call　a　press　conference　and　report　to　the　American　people；　right？〃
　　
　　〃Are　you　afraid　of　the　scrutiny；　Director？〃
　　
　　〃Not　one　bit。　Rosenberg　and　Jensen　are　dead　because　they　refused　to　cooperate　with　us。　They　were　very　much　aware　of　the　danger；　yet　they　couldn't　be　bothered。　The　other　seven　are　cooperating；　and　they're　still　alive。〃
　　
　　〃For　the　moment。　We'd　better　check。　They're　dropping　like　flies。〃　The　President　smiled　at　Coal；　who　snickered　and　almost　sneered　at　Voyles。　Coal　decided　it　was　time　to　speak。　〃Director；　did　you　know　Jensen　was　hanging　around　such　places？〃
　　
　　〃He　was　a　grown　man　with　a　lifetime　appointment。　If　he　chose　to　dance　naked　on　tables　we　couldn't　stop　him。〃
　　
　　〃Yes　sir；〃　Coal　said　politely。　〃But　you　didn't　answer　my　question。〃　
　　
　　Voyles　breathed　deeply　and　looked　away。　〃Yes。　We　suspected　he　was　a　homosexual；　and　we　knew　he　liked　certain　movie　houses。　We　have　neither　the　authority　nor　the　desire；　Mr。　Coal；　to　divulge　such　information。〃
　　
　　〃I　want　those　reports　by　this　afternoon；〃　the　President　said。　Voyles　was　watching　a　window；　listening　but　not　responding。　The　President　looked　at　Robert　Gminski；　director　of　the　CIA。　〃Bob；　I　want　a　straight　answer。〃　
　　
　　Gminski　tightened　and　frowned。　〃Yes　sir。　What　is　it？〃
　　
　　〃I　want　to　know　if　these　killings　are　in　any　way　linked　to　any　agency；　operation；　group；　whatever；　of　the　United　States　Government。〃
　　
　　〃e　on！　Are　you　serious；　Mr。　President！　That's　absurd。〃　Gminski　appeared　to　be　shocked；　but　the　President；　Coal；　even　Voyles；　knew　anything　was　possible　these　days　at　the　CIA。
　　
　　〃Dead　serious；　Bob。〃
　　
　　〃I'm　serious　too。　And　I　assure　you　we　had　nothing　to　do　with　it。　I'm　shocked　you　would　even　think　it。　Ridiculous！〃
　　
　　〃Check　it　out；　Bob。　I　want　to　be　damned　certain。　Rosenberg　did　not　believe　in　national　security。　He　made　thousands　of　enemies　in　intelligence。　Just　check　it　out；　okay。〃
　　
　　〃Okay；　okay。〃
　　
　　〃And　I　want　a　report　by　five　today。〃
　　
　　〃Sure。　Okay。　But　it's　a　waste　of　time。〃　
　　
　　〃Fletcher　Coal　moved　to　the　desk　next　to　the　President。I　suggest　we　meet　here　at　five　this　afternoon；　gentlemen。　Is　that　agreeable？〃　
　　
　　They　both　nodded　and　stood。　Coal　escorted　them　to　the　door　without　a　word。　He　closed　it。
　　
　　〃You　handled　it　real　well；〃　he　said　to　the　President。Voyles　knows　he's　vulnerable。　I　smell　blood。　We'll　go　to　work　on　him　with　the　press。〃
　　
　　〃Rosenberg　is　dead；〃　the　President　repeated　to　himself。　〃I　just　can't　believe　it。〃
　　
　　〃I've　got　an　idea　for　television。〃　Coal　was　pacing　again；　very　much　in　charge。We　need　to　cash　in　on　the　shock　of　it　all。　You　need　to　appear　tired；　as　if　you　were　up　all　night　handling　the　crisis。　Right？　The　entire　nation　will　be　watching；　waiting　for　you　to　give　details　and　to　reassure。　I　think　you　should　wear　something　warm　and　forting。　A　coat　and　tie　at　7　A。M。　may　seem　a　bit　rehearsed。　Let's　relax　a　little。〃　
　　
　　The　President　was　listening　intently。　〃A　bathrobe？〃
　　
　　〃Not　quite。　But　how　about　a　cardigan　and　slacks？　No　tie。　White　button…down。　Sort　of　the　grandfather　image。〃
　　
　　〃You　want　me　to　address　the　nation　in　this　hour　of　crisis　in　a　sweater？〃
　　
　　〃Yes。　I　like　it。　A　brown　cardigan　with　a　white　shirt。〃
　　
　　〃I　don't　know。〃
　　
　　〃The　image　is　good。　Look；　Chief；　the　election　is　a　year　from　next　month。　This　is　our　first　crisis　in　ninety　days；　and　what　a　wonderful　crisis　it　is。　The　people　need　to　see　you　in　something　different；　especially　at　seven　in　the　morning。　You　need　to　look　casual；　down…home；　but　in　control。　It'll　be　worth　five；　maybe　ten　points　in　the　ratings。　Trust　me；　Chief。〃
　　
　　〃I　don't　like　sweaters。〃
　　
　　〃Just　trust　me。〃
　　
　　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　DARBY　SHAW　awoke　in　the　early　darkness　with　a　touch　of　a　hangover。　After　fifteen　months　of　law　school；　her　mind　refused　to　rest　for　more　than　six　hours。　She　was　often　up　before　daybreak；　and　for　this　reason　she　did　not　sleep　well　with　Callahan。　The　sex　was　great；　but　sleep　was　often　a　tug…of…war　with　pillows　and　sheets　pulled　back　and　forth。　
　　
　　She　watched　the　ceiling　and　listened　to　him　snore　occasionally　in　his　Scotch…induced　a。　The　sheets　were　wrapped　like　ropes　around　his　knees。　She　had　no　cover；　but　she　was　not　cold。　October　in　New　Orleans　is　still　muggy　and　warm。　The　heavy　air　rose　from　Dauphine　Street　below；　across　the　small　balcony　outside　the　bedroom　and　through　the　open　french　doors。　It　brought　with　it　the　first　stream　of　morning　light。　She　stood　in　the　doors　and　covered　herself　with　his　terry…cloth　robe。　The　sun　was　rising；　but　Dauphine　was　dark。　Daybreaks　went　unnoticed　in　the　French　Quarter。　Her　mouth　was　dry。　
　　
　　Downstairs　in　the　kitchen；　Darby　brewed　a　pot　of　thick　French　Market　chicory。　The　blue　numbers　on　the　microwave　said　it　was　now　ten　minutes　before　six。　For　a　light　drinker；　life　with　Callahan　was　a　constant　struggle。　Her　limit　was　three　glasses　of　wine。　She　had　neither　a　law　license　nor　a　job；　and　she　could　not　afford　to　get　drunk　every　night　and　sleep　late。　And　she　weighed　a　hundred　and　twelve　pounds　and　was　determined　to　keep　it　there。　He　had　no　limit。　
　　
　　She　drank　three　glasses　of　ice　water；　then　poured　a　tall　mug　full　of　chicory。　She　flipped　on　lights　as　she　climbed　the　stairs；　and　eased　back　into　the　bed。　She　flicked　the　remote　controls；　and　suddenly；　there　was　the　President　sitting　behind　his　desk　looking　somehow　rather　odd　in　a　brown　cardigan　with　no　tie。　It　was　an　NBC　News　special　report。
　　
　　〃Thomas！〃　She　slapped　him　on　his　shoulder。　No　movement。　〃Thomas！　Wake　up！〃　She　pressed　a　button　and　the　volume　roared。　The　President　said　good　morning。
　　
　　〃Thomas！〃　She　leaned　toward　the　television。　Callahan　kicked　at　the　sheets　and　sat　up；　rubbing　his　eyes　and　trying　to　focus。　She　handed　him　the　coffee。　
　　
　　The　President　had　tragic　news。　His　eyes　were　tired　and　he　looked　sad；　but　the　rich　baritone　exuded　confidence。　He　had　notes　but　didn't　use　them。　He　looked　deep　into　the　camera；　and　explained　to　the　American　people　the　shocking　events　of　last　night。
　　
　　〃What　the　hell；〃　Callahan　mumbled。　After　announcing　the　deaths；　the　President　launched　into　a　flowery　obituary　for　Abraham　Rosenberg。　A　towering　legend；　he　called　him。　It　was　a　strain；　but　the　President　kept　a　straight　face　while　lauding　the　distinguished　career　of　one　of　the　most　hated　men　in　America。　
　　
　　Callahan　gaped　at　the　television。　Darby　stared　at　it。　〃That's　very　touching；〃　she　said。　She　was　frozen　on　the　end　of　the　bed。　He　had　been　briefed　by　the　FBI　and　CIA；　he　explained；　and　they　were　assuming　the　killings　were　related。　He　had　ordered　an　immediate；　thorough　investigation；　and　those　responsible　would　be　brought　to　justice。　
　　
　　Callahan　sat　upright　and　covered　himself　with　the　sheets。　He　blinked　his　eyes　and　bed　his　wild　hair　with　his　fingers。　〃Rosenberg？　Murdered？〃　he　mumbled；　glaring　at　the　screen。　His　foggy　head　had　cleared　immediately；　and　the　pain　was　there　but　he　couldn't　feel　it。
　　
　　〃Check　out　the　sweater；〃　Darby　said；　sipping　the　coffee；　staring　at　the　orange　face　with　heavy　makeup　and　the　brilliant　silver　hair　plastered　carefully　in　place。　He　was　a　wonderfully　handsome　man　with　a　soothing　voice；　thus　he　had　succeeded　greatly　in　politics。　The　wrinkles　in　his　forehead　squeezed　to　gether；　and　he　was　even　sadder　now　as　he　talked　of　his　close　friend　Justice　Glenn　Jensen。
　　
　　〃The　Montrose　Theatre；　at　midnight；〃　Callahan　repeated。
　　
　　〃Where　is　it？〃　she　asked。　Callahan　had　finis