chiaasen.stormyweather-第60部分

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　some　questions　。。。　？〃
　
　The　Tennesseeans　were　packed　and　gone　within　fifteen　minutes。　Neria　found　the　solitude　relaxing：　a　light　whisper　of　rain；　the　occasional　whine　of　a　mosquito。　She　thought　of　Tony；　wondered　whom　he'd　pissed　off　to　get　himself　killed…maybe　tough　young　Edith！　Neria　thought　of　the　professor；　too；　wondered　how　he　and　his　Earth　Mother　blow…job　artist　were　getting　along　with　no　wheels。
　
　She　also　thought　of　the　many　things　she　didn't　want　to　do；　such　as　move　back　into　the　gutted　husk　at　15600　Calusa。　Or　be　interviewed　by　a　homicide　detective。　Or　go　to　the　morgue　to　view　her　estranged　husband's　body。
　
　Money　was　the　immediate　problem。　Neria　wondered　if　careless　Tony　had　left　her　name　on　any　of　the　bank　accounts；　and　what　（if　anything）　remained　in　them。　The　most　valuable　item　at　the　house　was　his　car；　untouched　by　the　hurricane。　Neria　located　the　spare　key　in　the　garage；　but　the　engine　wouldn't　turn　over。
　
　〃Need　some　help？〃
　
　It　was　a　clean…shaven　young　man　in　a　Federal　Express　uniform。　He　had　an　envelope　for　Neria　Torres。　She　signed　for　it；　laid　it　on　the　front　seat　of　Tony's　Chevy。
　
　The　kid　said；　〃I　got　jumpers　in　the　truck。〃
　
　〃Would　you　mind？〃
　
　They　had　the　car　started　in　no　time。　Neria　idled　the　engine　and　waited　for　the　battery　to　recharge。　The　FedEx　kid　said　it　sounded　good。　Halfway　to　the　truck；　he　stopped　and　turned。
　
　〃Hey；　somebody　swiped　your　license　plate。〃
　
　〃Shit。〃　Neria　got　out　to　see　for　herself。　The　FedEx　driver　said　it　was　probably　a　looter。
　
　〃Everybody　around　here's　getting　ripped　off；〃　he　explained。
　
　〃I　didn't　even　notice。　Thanks。〃
　
　As　soon　as　he　left；　Neria　opened　the　FedEx　envelope。　Her　delirious　shriek　drew　nosy　Mr。　Varga　to　his　front　porch。　He　was　shirtless；　a　toothbrush　in　one　cheek。　In　fascination　he　watched　his　neighbor　practically　bound　up　the　sidewalk　into　her　house。
　
　The　envelope　contained　two　checks　made　out　to　Antonio　and　Neria　Torres。　The　checks　were　issued　by　the　Midwest　Life　and　Casualty　pany　of　Omaha；　Nebraska。　They　totaled　201；000。　The　stubs　said：　〃Hurricane　losses。〃
　
　Shortly　after　noon；　when　Detective　Brickhouse　arrived　at　15600　Calusa；　he　found　the　house　empty　again。　The　Chevrolet　was　gone；　as　was　the　widow　of　Antonio　Torres。　A　torn　Federal　Express　envelope　lay　on　the　driveway；　near　the　rusty　Oldsmobile。　Mr。　Varga；　the　neighbor；　informed　the　detective　that　Neria　Torres　sped　off　without　even　waving　good…bye。
　
　Brickhouse　was　backing　out　of　the　driveway　when　a　rental　car　pulled　up。　A　thin　blond　man　wearing　round　eyeglasses　got　out。　Brickhouse　noticed　the　man　had　tan　Hush　Puppies　and　was　carrying　a　box　of　Whitman　chocolates。　High…pitched　barking　could　be　heard　from　the　back　seat　of　the　visitor's　car。
　
　The　detective　called　the　man　over。　〃Are　you　looking　for　Mrs。　Torres？〃
　
　The　man　hesitated。　Brickhouse　identified　himself。　The　man　blinked　repeatedly；　as　if　his　glasses　were　smudged。
　
　He　said；　〃I　don't　know　anybody　named　Torres。　Guess　I've　got　the　wrong　address。〃　Speedily　he　returned　to　his　car。
　
　Brickhouse　leaned　out　the　window。　〃Hey；　who's　the　candy　for？〃
　
　〃My　mother！〃　Fred　Dove　replied；　over　the　barking。
　
　The　detective　watched　the　confused　young　man　drive　away；　and　wondered　why　he'd　lied。　Even　crackheads　know　how　to　find　their　own　mother's　house。　Brickhouse　briefly　considered　tailing　the　guy；　but　decided　it　would　be　a　waste　of　time。　Whoever　crucified　Tony　Torres　wasn't　wearing　Hush　Puppies。　Brickhouse　would　have　bet　his　pension　on　it。
　
　Augustine　parked　at　a　phone　booth　behind　a　gas　station。　The　governor　had　them　wait　while　he　made　a　call。　He　came　back　humming　a　Beatles　tune。
　
　〃Jim's　alive；〃　he　said。
　
　Edie　Marsh　leaned　forward。　〃Your　friend！　How　do　you　know？〃
　
　〃There's　a　number　where　we　leave　messages　for　each　other。〃
　
　Bonnie　asked　if　he　was　hurt　badly。
　
　〃Nope。　He　took　it　in　the　vest。〃
　
　Augustine　shook　a　fist　in　elation。　Everybody's　mood　perked　up；　even　Edie's。　Skink　told　Bonnie　she　could　call　her　mother；　but　make　it　fast。　It　went　like　this：
　
　〃Mom；　something's　happened。〃
　
　〃I　guessed　as　much。〃
　
　〃Between　Max　and　me。〃
　
　〃Oh　no。〃　Bonnie's　mother；　laboring　to　sound　properly　dismayed；　when　Bonnie　knew　how　she　truly　felt。
　
　〃What'd　he　do；　sweetie？〃
　
　〃Nothing；　Mom。　It's　all　me。〃
　
　〃Did　you　have　a　fight？〃　her　mother　asked。
　
　〃Listen；　I've　met　two　unusual　men。　I　believe　I've　fallen　in　love　with　one　of　them。〃
　
　〃On　your　honeymoon；　Bonnie？〃
　
　〃I'm　afraid　so。〃
　
　〃What　does　he　do？〃
　
　〃He's　not　certain；〃　Bonnie　said。
　
　〃These　men；　are　they　dangerous？〃
　
　〃Not　to　me。　Mom；　they're　totally　different　from　anyone　I've　ever　known。　It's　a　very　。。。　primitive　charisma。〃
　
　〃Let's　not　mention　that　last　part　to　your　father。〃
　
　Next　Bonnie　phoned　the　apartment　in　New　York。　When　she　got　back　to　the　Seville；　she　told　Skink　to　go　on　without　her。
　
　〃Max　left　a　message　on　the　machine。〃　She　didn't　look　at　Augustine　when　she　said　it。　Couldn't　look　at　him。
　
　Bonnie　repeated　her　husband's　message。　〃He　says　it's　over　if　I　don't　meet　with　him。〃
　
　〃It's　over　regardless；〃　Skink　said。
　
　〃Please。〃
　
　〃Call　back　and　leave　your　own　message。〃　The　governor　gave　her　the　details…the　place；　the　time；　who　would　be　there。
　
　After　Bonnie　finished　with　the　phone；　Skink　made　another　call　himself。　When　they　got　back　in　the　car；　Augustine　punched　the　accelerator　and　peeled　rubber。　Bonnie　put　her　hand　on　his　arm。　He　gave　a　tight；　rueful　smile。
　
　They　made　the　905　turnoff　in　the　nick　of　time。　Already　the　northbound　traffic　was　stacked　past　Lake　Surprise；　Skink　surmised　that　the　police　had　raised　the　Jewfish　Creek　drawbridge　for　their　roadblock。　He　predicted　they'd　set　up　another　one　at　Card　Sound；　as　soon　as　more　patrol　cars　arrived　from　the　mainland。
　
　Edie　Marsh　said；　〃So　where　are　we　going？〃
　
　〃Patience。〃
　
　The　two　of　them　sat　together　in　the　back　seat。　On　the　governor's　lap　was　a　Bill　Blass　suitcase；　removed　from　the　Cadillac's　trunk　to　make　space　for　the　blacked　out　Snapper。
　
　Skink　said；　〃Driver；　dome　light！　Por　favor。〃　Augustine　began　pushing　dashboard　buttons　until　the　ceiling　lights　came　on。　Skink　broke　the　locks　off　the　suitcase　and　opened　it。
　
　〃What　have　we　here！〃　he　said。
　
　The　troopers　waited　all　night　at　Jewfish　Creek。　As　Jim　Tile　predicted　the　black　Jeep　Cherokee　never　appeared；　nor　did　the　silver　Cadillac　stolen　from　a　customer　at　a　Key　Largo　convenience　store。　The　French　victim　had　dryly　described　the　armed　carjacker　as　〃a　poster　boy　for　TMJ。〃
　
　At　daybreak　the　cops　gave　up　the　roadblock　and　fanned　through　the　Upper　Keys。　It　would　take　three　days　to　locate　the　Seville；　abandoned　on　a　disused　smugglers'　trail　off　County　Road　905；　only　a　few　miles　from　the　exclusive　Ocean　Reef　Club。　The　police　would　wait　another　forty…eight　hours　before　announcing　the　discovery　of　the　vehicle。　They　omitted　mention　of　the　bullet　hole　in　its　dashboard；　as　they　didn't　wish　to　unduly　alarm　Ocean　Reef's　residents　and　guests；　which　included　some　of　the　most　socially　prominent；　politically　influential　and　chronically　impatient　taxpayers　in　the　eastern　United　States。　Many　were　already　in　a　cranky　mood；　due　to　the　inconvenient　damaging　of　their　vacation　homes　by　the　hurricane。　News　that　a　murderous　criminal　might　be　lurking　in　the　mangroves　would　touch　off　heated　high…level　muniques　with　Tallahassee　and　Washington；　D。C。　The　Ocean　Reef　crowd　didn't　mess　around。
　
　As　it　turned　out；　there　was　no　danger　whatsoever。
　
　Most　newly　married　men；　faced　with　unexpected　desertion；　would　have　been　manic　with　grief；　jealousy　and　anger。　Max　Lamb；　however；　was　blessed　by　a　hearty；　blinding　preoccupation　with　his　career。
　
　A　nettlesome　thought　kept　scrolling　across　his　mind；　and　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　his　runaway　wife。　It　was　something　the　nutty　kidnapper　had　told　him：　You　need　a　legacy。
　
　They'd　been　riding　in　the　back　of　a　U…Haul　truck；　discussing　unforgettable　advertising　slogans。　Max　hadn't　anything　zippy　to　brag　about　except　the　short…lived　Plum　Crunchies　ditty。　Since　the　failure　of　the　cereal　campaign；　the　sixth　floor　had　deployed　him　more　often　for　billboard　concepts　and　print　graphics；　and　not　as　much　on　the　verbally　creative　side。
　
　Which　stung；　because　Max　considered　himself　a　genuinely　glib　and　talented　wordsmith。　He　believed　it　was　well　within　his　reach　to　write　an　advertising　catchphrase　that　would　embed　itself　in　the　national　lexicon…one　of　those　classics　the　kidnapper　had　mentioned。　A　legacy；　if　you　will。
　
　Now　that　Bronco　cigarets　were　history；　Max　was　left　to　review　the　potential　of　his　other　accounts。　The　hypercarbonated　soda　served　on　the　plane　to　Miami　put　him　in　mind　of　Old　Faithful　Root　Beer。　Old　Faithful's　popularity　had　peaked　in　the　summer　of　1962；　and　since　then　its　share　of　the　global　soft…drink　market　had　fizzled　to　a　microscopic　sliver。　Rodale's　mission　was　to　revive　Old　Faithful　in　the　consciousness　of　the　consumer；　and　to　that　end　the　eccentric　Mormon　family　that　owned　the　pany　was　willing　to　spend　a　respectable　seven…figure　sum。
　
　Around　Rodale　&　Burns；　the　Old　Faithful　Root　Beer　account　was　regarded　as　a　lucrative　but　hopeless　loser。　Nobody　liked　the　stuff　because　one　sixteen…ounce　bottle　induced　thunderous　belching　that　often　lasted　for　days。　At　a　party；　Pete　Archibald　drunkenly　offered　a　joke　slogan：　〃The　root　beer　you'll　never　forget…because　it　won't　let　you！〃
　
　Lying　there　alone　in　Augustine's　house；　Max　Lamb　savored　the　prospect　of　single…handedly　resuscitating　Old　Faithful。　It　was　the　sort　of　coup　that　could　make　him　a　legend　on　Madison　Avenue。　For　inspiration　he　turned　on　the　Home　Shopping　Network。　Into　the　wee　hours　he　tinkered　determinedly　with　beverage…related　alliterations；　allusions；　puns；　verses　and　metaphors。　Bonnie　didn't　cross　his　mind。
　
　Eventually　Max　struck　on　a　winner；　something　that　sounded　like　good　silly　fun　to　kids；　and　at　the　same　time　titillating　to　teens　and　young　adults：　〃Old　Faithful　Root　Beer…Makes　You　Tingle　in　Places　You　Didn't　Know　You　Had　Places！〃
　
　Max　Lamb　was　so　excited　he　couldn't　sleep。　Once　more　he　tried　calling　the　apartment　in　New　York。　No