chiaasen.stormyweather-第14部分

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　〃You　up　for　this？〃　he　asked。
　
　〃If　you　go　with　me。〃
　
　It　was　a　long　walk　to　the　autopsy　room；　where　the　temperature　seemed　to　drop　fifteen　degrees。　Bonnie　Lamb　took　Augustine's　hand　as　they　moved　among　the　self…draining　steel　tables；　where　a　half…dozen　bodies　were　laid　out　in　varying　stages　of　dissection。　The　room　gave　off　a　cloying　odor；　the　sickly…sweet　mingling　of　chemicals　and　dead　flesh。　Augustine　felt　Bonnie's　palm　go　cold。　He　asked　her　if　she　was　going　to　faint。
　
　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃It's　just　。。。　God；　I　thought　they'd　all　be　covered　with　sheets。〃
　
　〃Only　in　the　movies。〃
　
　The　first　John　Doe　had　lank　hair　and　sparse；　uneven　sideburns。　He　was　the　same　race　and　age；　but　otherwise　bore　no　resemblance　to　Max　Lamb。　The　dead　man's　eyes　were　greenish　blue；　Max's　were　brown。　Still；　Bonnie　stared。
　
　〃How　did　he　die？〃
　
　Augustine　asked：　〃Is　it　Max？〃
　
　She　shook　her　head　sharply。　〃But　tell　me　how　he　died。〃
　
　With　a　Bic　pen；　the　young　medical　examiner　pointed　to　a　dime…sized　hole　beneath　the　dead　man's　left　armpit。　〃Gunshot　wound；〃　he　said。
　
　Augustine　and　Bonnie　Lamb　followed　the　doctor　to　another　table。　Here　the　cause　of　death　was　no　mystery。　The　second　John　Doe　had　been　in　a　terrible　accident。　He　was　scalped　and　his　face　pulverized　beyond　recognition。　A　black　track　of　autopsy　stitches　ran　from　his　breast　to　his　pelvis。
　
　Bonnie　stammered；　〃I　don't　know；　I　can't　tell…〃
　
　〃Look　at　his　hands；〃　the　medical　examiner　said。
　
　〃No　wedding　ring；〃　Augustine　observed。
　
　〃Please。　I　want　her　to　look；〃　the　medical　examiner　said。　〃We　remove　the　jewelry　for　safekeeping。〃
　
　Bonnie　dazedly　circled　the　table。　The　bluish　pallor　of　the　dead　man's　skin　made　it　difficult　to　determine　his　natural　plexion。　He　was　built　like　Max…narrow　shoulders；　bony　chest；　with　a　veined　roll　of　baby　fat　at　the　midsection。　The　arms　and　legs　were　lean　and　finely　haired；　like　Max's。。。。
　
　〃Ma'am；　what　about　the　hands？〃
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　forced　herself　to　look；　and　was　glad　she　did。　The　hands　were　not　her　husband's；　the　fingernails　were　grubby　and　gnawed。　Max　believed　religiously　in　manicures　and　buffing。
　
　〃No；　it's　not　him。〃　She　spoke　very　softly；　as　if　trying　not　to　awaken　the　man　with　no　face。
　
　The　doctor　wanted　to　know　if　her　husband　had　any　birthmarks。　Bonnie　said　she　hadn't　noticed；　and　felt　guilty…as　if　she　hadn't　spent　enough　time　examining　the　details　of　Max's　trunk　and　extremities。　Couldn't　most　lovers　map　their　partner's　most　intimate　blemishes？
　
　〃I　remember　a　mole；〃　she　said　in　a　helpful　tone；　〃on　one　of　his　elbows。〃
　
　〃Which　elbow？〃　asked　the　medical　examiner。
　
　〃I　don't　recall。〃
　
　〃Like　it　matters；〃　said　Augustine；　restlessly。　〃Check　both　his　arms；　OK？〃
　
　The　doctor　checked。　The　dead　man's　elbows　had　no　moles。　Bonnie　turned　away　from　the　body　and　laid　her　head　against　Augustine's　chest。
　
　〃He　was　driving　a　stolen　motorcycle；〃　the　doctor　explained；　〃with　a　stolen　microwave　strapped　to　the　back。〃
　
　Augustine　sighed　irritably。　〃A　hurricane　looter。〃
　
　〃Right。　Smacked　a　lumber　truck　doing　eighty。〃
　
　〃Now　he　tells　us；〃　said　Bonnie　Lamb。
　
　The　wash　of　relief　didn't　hit　her　until　she　was　back　in　Augustine's　pickup　truck。　It　wasn't　Max　at　the　morgue；　because　Max　is　still　alive。　This　is　good。　This　is　cause　to　be　thankful。　Then　Bonnie　began　to　tremble；　imagining　her　husband　gutted　like　a　fish　on　a　shiny　steel　tray。
　
　When　they　returned　to　the　neighborhood　where　Max　Lamb　had　vanished；　they　found　the　rental　car　on　its　rims。　The　hood　stood　open　and　the　radiator　was　gone。　Augustine's　note　on　the　windshield　wiper　was　untouched…a　testament；　he　remarked；　to　the　low　literacy　rate　among　car　burglars。　He　offered　to　call　a　wrecker。
　
　〃Later；〃　Bonnie　said；　tersely。
　
　〃That's　what　I　meant。　Later。〃　He　locked　the　truck　and　set　the　alarm。
　
　They　walked　the　streets　for　nearly　two　hours；　Augustine　with　the　。38　Special　wedged　in　his　belt。　He　thought　Max　Lamb's　abductor　might　have　holed　up；　so　they　checked　every　abandoned　house　in　the　subdivision。　Walking　from　one　block　to　the　next；　Bonnie　struck　up　conversations　with　people　who　were　patching　their　battered　homes。　She　hoped　one　of　them　would　remember　seeing　Max　on　the　morning　after　the　hurricane。　Several　residents　offered　colorful　accounts　of　monkey　sightings；　but　Bonnie　spoke　with　no　one　who　recalled　the　kidnapping　of　a　tourist。
　
　Augustine　drove　her　to　the　Metro　police　checkpoint；　where　she　contacted　a　towing　service　and　the　rental…car　agency　in　Orlando。　Then　she　made　a　call　to　the　apartment　in　New　York　to　get　her　messages。　After　listening　for　a　minute；　she　pressed　the　pound　button　on　the　telephone　and　handed　the　receiver　to　Augustine。
　
　〃Unbelievable；〃　she　said。
　
　It　was　Max　Lamb's　voice　on　the　line。　The　static　was　so　heavy　he　could　have　been　calling　from　Tibet：　〃Bonnie；　darling；　everything's　OK。　I　don't　believe　my　life's　in　danger；　but　I　can't　say　when　I'll　be　free。　It's　too　hairy　to　explain　over　the　phone…uh；　hang　on；　he　wants　me　to　read　something。　Ready？　Here　goes：　〃'I　have　nothing　to　do　with　the　creaking　machinery　of　humanity…I　belong　to　the　earth！　I　say　that　lying　on　my　pillow　and　I　can　feel　the　horns　sprouting　from　my　temples。'〃
　
　After　a　scratchy　pause：　〃Bonnie；　honey；　it　sounds　worse　than　it　is。　Please　don't　tell　my　folks　a　thing…I　don't　want　Dad　all　worked　up　for　no　reason。　And　please　call　Pete　and；　uh；　ask　him　to　put　me　down　for　sick　leave；　just　in　case　this　situation　drags　out。　And　tell　him　to　stall　the　sixth　floor　on　the　Bronco　meeting　next　week。　Don't　forget；　OK？　Tell　him　under　no　circumstances　should　Bill　Knapp　be　brought　in。　It's　still　my　account。。。。〃
　
　Max　Lamb's　voice　dissolved　into　fuzzy　pops　and　echoes。　Augustine　hung　up。　He　walked　Bonnie　back　to　the　pickup。
　
　She　got　in　and　said；　〃This　is　making　me　crazy。〃
　
　〃We'll　call　again　from　my　house　and　get　it　on　tape。〃
　
　〃Oh；　I'm　sure　it'll　jolt　the　FBI　into　action。　Especially　the　poetry。〃
　
　〃Actually　I　think　it's　from　a　book。〃
　
　〃What　does　it　mean？〃　she　asked。
　
　Augustine　reached　across　her　lap　and　placed　the　。38　Special　in　the　glove　partment。　〃It　means；〃　he　said；　〃your　husband　probably　isn't　as　safe　as　he　thinks。〃
　
　By　and　large；　the　Highway　Patrol　troopers　based　in　northern　Florida　were　not　overjoyed　to　learn　of　their　temporary　reassignment　to　southern　Florida。　Many　would　have　preferred　Beirut　or　Somalia。　The　exception　was　Jim　Tile。　A　trip　to　Miami　meant　precious　time　with　Brenda　Rourke；　although　working　double　shifts　in　the　hurricane　zone　left　them　scarcely　enough　energy　to　collapse　in　each　other's　arms。
　
　Jim　Tile　hadn't　counted　on　an　intrusion　by　the　governor；　but　it　wasn't　totally　surprising。　The　man　worshipped　hurricanes。　Ignoring　his　presence　would　have　been　selfish　and　irresponsible；　the　trooper　didn't　take　the　friendship　that　lightly；　nor　Skink's　capacity　for　outstandingly　rash　behavior。　Jim　Tile　had　no　choice　but　to　try　to　stay　close。
　
　In　the　age　of　political　correctness；　a　large　black　man　in　a　crisply　pressed　police　uniform　could　move　at　will　through　the　corridors　of　white…cracker　bureaucracy　and　never　once　be　questioned。　Jim　Tile　took　full　advantage　in　the　days　following　the　big　storm。　He　mingled　authoritatively　with　Dade　County　deputies；　Homestead　police；　firelighters；　Red　Cross　volunteers；　National　Guardsmen；　the　Army　mand　and　antsy　emissaries　of　the　Federal　Emergency　Management　Agency。　Between　patrol　shifts；　Jim　Tile　helped　himself　to　coffee　and　A…forms；　911　logs；　puter　printouts　and　handwritten　incident　reports…　he　scanned　for　nothing　in　particular；　just　a　sign。
　
　As　it　happened；　though；　madness　flowed　rampant　in　the　storm's　wake。　Jim　Tile　leafed　through　the　paperwork；　and　thought：　My　Lord；　people　are　cracking　up　all　over　town。
　
　The　machinery　of　rebuilding　doubled　as　novel　weapons　for　domestic　violence。　Thousands　of　hurricane　victims　had　stampeded　to　purchase　chain　saws　for　clearing　debris；　and　now　the　dangerous　power　tools　were　being　employed　to　vent　rage。　A　gentleman　with　a　Black　8c　Decker　attempted　to　truncate　a　stubborn　insurance　adjuster　in　Homestead。　An　old　woman　in　Florida　City　used　a　lightweight　Sears　to　silence　a　neighbor's　garrulous　pet　cockatoo。　And　in　Sweetwater；　two　teen…aged　gang　members　successfully　detached　each　other's　arms　（one　left；　one　right）　in　a　brief　but　spectacular　duel　of　stolen　Homelites。
　
　If　chain　saws　ruled　the　day；　firearms　ruled　the　night。　Fearful　of　looters；　vigilant　home　owners　unloaded　high…caliber　semiautomatics　at　every　rustle；　scrape　and　scuff　in　the　darkness。　Preliminary　casualties　included　seven　cats；　thirteen　stray　dogs；　two　opossums　and　a　garbage　truck；　but　no　actual　thieves。　Residents　of　one　rural　neighborhood　wildly　fired　dozens　of　rounds　to　repel　what　they　described　as　a　troop　of　marauding　monkeys…　an　episode　that　Jim　Tile　dismissed　as　mass　hallucination。　He　resolved　to　limit　his　investigative　activities　to　daytime　hours；　whenever　possible。
　
　Nearly　all　the　missing　persons　reported　to　authorities　were　locals　who　had　fled　the　storm　and　lost　contact　with　concerned　relatives　up　North。　Most　turned　up　safe　at　shelters　or　in　the　homes　of　neighbors。　But　one　case　caught　Jim　Tile's　attention：　a　man　named　Max　Lamb。
　
　According　to　the　information　filed　by　his　wife；　the　Lambs　drove　to　Miami　on　the　morning　after　the　hurricane　struck。　Mrs。　Lamb　told　police　that　her　husband　wanted　to　see　the　storm　damage。　The　trooper　wasn't　surprised…the　streets　were　clogged　with　out…of…towners　who　treated　the　hurricane　zone　as　a　tourist　attraction。
　
　Mr。　Max　Lamb　had　left　his　rental　car；　in　pursuit　of　video。　It　seemed　improbable　to　Jim　Tile　that　anybody　from　Manhattan　could　get　lost　on　foot　in　the　flat　simple　grid　of　a　Florida　subdivision。　The　trooper's　suspicions　were　heightened　by　another　incident；　lost　deep　in　the　stack　of　files。
　
　A　seventy…four…year…old　woman　had　called　to　say　she　had　witnessed　a　possible　assault。　It　was　summarized　in　two　short　paragraphs；　taken　over　the　telephone　by　a　dispatcher：
　
　〃Caller　reports　suspicious　subject　running　along　10700　block　of　Quail　Roost　Drive；　carrying　another　subject　over　his　shoulder。　Subject　One　is　described　as　w/m；　height　and　weight　unknown。