cwilleford.miamiblues-第31部分

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to　the　loading　zone；　Freddy　told　her　to　back　up　to　the　end　of　the　zone　so　she　couldn't　be　blocked　from　behind。　〃That　still　leaves　room　for　a　truck　to　park　in　front　of　you　in　case　somebody　needs　to　unload　something　for　that　ropa　store。〃
　　Next　to　the　Cuban　clothing　store　there　was　a　narrow　shop　with　a　stuffed　llama　in　the　window。　The　store　claimed　to　sell　genuine　Peruvian　imports；　but　the　floor　beneath　the　llama　was　layered　with　Timex　watches　and　zircon　rings　in　black　velvet　boxes。　On　the　corner　was　a　small　Cuban　cafeteria　with　a　Formica　counter　to　serve　customers　on　the　sidewalk。
　　Freddy　held　the　coin　case　in　his　lap。　He　took　out　his　。38　pistol；　checked　it；　and　then　put　the　pistol　back　in　his　right　coat　pocket。
　　〃You…you　aren't　going　to　shoot　Mr。　Wulgemuth；　are　you？〃　Susan　said；　licking　her　thin　lips。
　　〃Not　unless　I　have　to；〃　Freddy　said。　〃But　sometimes；〃　Freddy　shrugged；　〃they　make　you　do　it。〃　Freddy　smiled　like　a　butcher's　dog。　〃Like　the　time　I　broke　your　brother's　finger。　He　irritated　me；　and　I　had　to　break　it。〃
　　〃You　killed　Martin？〃
　　〃I　didn't　kill　anybody。　I　broke　his　fucking　finger；　that's　all。　And　if　you　force　me　into　it；　by　not　doing　exactly　what　I　tell　you；　I'll　break　your　skinny　neck。〃
　　Freddy　got　out　of　the　car　and　ordered　two　café　Cubanos　at　the　counter。　He　downed　his　quickly　and　took　the　other　one；　in　its　one…ounce　paper　cup；　back　to　the　car。　Susan　rolled　down　the　window；　and　he　handed　her　the　coffee。　Her　hand　trembled　so　much　she　spilled　most　of　the　coffee　on　her　jeans。　There　was　a　rim　of　white　around　her　lips。　Freddy　shook　his　head　impatiently。
　　〃D'you　want　another　cup？〃
　　Susan　shook　her　head。　Her　knuckles　holding　the　wheel　were　white。
　　〃All　right；　then。　Stay　awake；　keep　the　engine　running；　and　I　should　be　back　in　about　ten　minutes。〃　Carrying　the　coin　case　in　his　left　hand；　Freddy　walked　away　from　the　car。
　　
　　Hoke　was　stopped　by　the　red　light。　Susan；　in　the　TransAm；　had　made　it　across　just　in　time。　Hoke　watched　her　pull　into　the　yellow　loading　zone　on　Miami　Avenue　and　then　back　up　to　the　end　of　the　zone。　Except　for　the　spaces　in　front　of　her　TransAm；　there　were　no　other　vacant　spaces　on　the　street。　A　horn　honked　behind　him。　Hoke　rolled　down　the　window　and　waved　the　driver　around。　The　man　had　to　back　up　before　he　could　pull　forward　again　to　get　around　Hoke's　car。　He　cursed　Hoke　and　shook　his　fist　as　he　roared　by。
　　Hoke　watched　Mendez　get　out　of　the　car　and　buy　coffee　at　the　cafeteria。　He　took　a　cup　back　to　the　car。　Hoke　wondered　if　that　was　why　they　had　stopped…to　get　a　fucking　cup　of　Cuban　coffee？　Another　car　pulled　up　behind　Hoke　and　stopped。　The　light　was　green　again；　and　the　driver　leaned　on　her　horn。　Hoke　waved　her　around。
　　When　Hoke　looked　back　at　the　TransAm；　he　noticed　Mendez　turning　the　corner　onto　Flagler。　As　Mendez　disappeared　into　the　rain；　the　TransAm　pulled　away　from　the　curb；　with　its　tires　squealing　on　the　wet　street；　and　raced　down　Miami　Avenue。　Hoke　followed　the　TransAm；　thinking；　he's　going　to　buy　something　on　Flagler；　and　she's　going　to　circle　the　block　to　pick　him　up　so　he　won't　get　wet。　But　Hoke　had　guessed　wrong。　That's　why　a　man　needed　a　partner。　If　he　had　had　Bill　Henderson　with　him…or　even　Ellita　Sanchez…she　could　have　followed　Susan；　and　he　could　have　gone　after　Mendez　on　foot。
　　When　Hoke　realized　that　the　TransAm　had　got　into　the　lane　leading　to　the　I…95　overpass；　he　switched　lanes；　bluffed　his　way　into　the　outside　lane；　and　made　a　left　turn　at　First　Street。　He　drove　down　a　block；　made　another　left；　and　finally　got　back　on　Flagler。　The　cars　were　barely　moving　and　Hoke　was　caught　by　two　red　lights；　but　he　inched　along　Flagler；　watching　the　pedestrians　make　short　dashes　from　one　overhanging　awning　to　the　next。　There　was　a　crowd　of　South　Americans　with　shopping　bags　standing　in　the　arcade　that　catered　to　Venezuelans　and　Colombians。　Hoke　stopped　pletely　to　look　them　over。　Mendez；　in　his　light　suit；　would　stand　out　among　all　those　foreigners　in　funereal　black。　Hoke　took　out　his　pistol　and　laid　it　on　the　seat　beside　him。　He　looked　at　the　empty　bracket　from　which　his　radio　had　been　stolen；　and　swore。　Horns　honked　behind　him；　and　he　moved　forward　again。　His　only　chance　was　to　spot　Mendez　in　the　street；　and　that　seemed　damned　unlikely。　Deep　down；　way　down　there　in　the　pit　of　his　stomach；　he　hoped　he　wouldn't　find　him。
　　
　　Freddy's　hair　was　wet　and　the　shoulders　of　his　gray　silk　suitcoat　were　soaked　through　by　the　time　he　rounded　the　corner　to　Flagler　and　reached　the　window　of　Wulgemuth's　Coin　Exchange。　Freddy　pressed　the　buzzer　beside　the　window　and　smiled　when　he　saw　Wulgemuth's　alert　face　behind　the　glass。　The　coin　expert　was　in　his　early　fifties　but　looked　older　because　of　his　bald　head；　which　was　encircled　by　a　clipped　wreath　of　stubby　white　hair　above　his　ears。　His　bulbous　nose　and　his　sunken　cheeks　were　pitted　with　old　acne　scars。
　　〃I'm　a　police　officer；〃　Freddy　said　into　the　recessed　microphone。　〃Turn　the　window。〃
　　The　bulletproof　window　revolved。　Freddy　placed　the　cowhide　coin　case　in　the　drawer；　and　dropped　his　ID　card　and　badge；　still　in　its　leather　holder；　on　top　of　the　case。　The　window　revolved　and　Wulgemuth's　face　disappeared。
　　There　were　more　people　shopping　on　Flagler　than　Freddy　had　expected　to　see　on　such　a　miserable；　rainy　day；　but　most　of　them；　Freddy　supposed；　were　used　to　the　rain。　The　rain　was　warm；　and　in　places　the　sidewalk　steamed。　The　temperature；　despite　the　rain；　was　eighty…two　degrees；　as　Freddy　could　see　by　the　lighted　digital　clock　on　the　bank　tower　a　block　away。　The　time　was　10：04。　The　time　and　temperature　flashed　off；　and　were　replaced　by　an　aqueous　message　in　dotted　green　lights：
　　
　　THE　AMERICAN　WAY
　　IS　OUR　IRA
　　
　　The　message　puzzled　Freddy。　What　was　an　IRA？　He　heard　the　window　revolve。　The　badge　and　the　ID　were　in　the　drawer；　but　not　the　coin　case。　Wulgemuth's　face　was　in　the　window　again。　〃What's　your　business；　sergeant？〃
　　〃Police　business；〃　Freddy　said。　〃I've　been　trying　to　get　a　line　on　these　stolen　coins；　and　I've　got　some　other　things　to　ask　you　about。　Open　the　door。〃　Freddy　took　his　badge　out　of　the　drawer。
　　The　face　disappeared。　A　buzzer　on　the　door　lock　sounded；　and　Freddy　turned　the　knob　as　the　door　lock　was　released。　The　buzzing　stopped　as　he　stepped　inside。
　　〃Shut　the　door！〃　Wulgemuth　called　from　the　back　of　the　shop。
　　Freddy　closed　the　door　with　his　hip。　Wulgemuth　had　the　coin　case　open　on　the　counter　at　the　end　of　the　narrow　shop。
　　〃These　coins　were　stolen；　you　say？〃
　　〃Yeah。　I　brought　them　down　from　the　property　room。　We　picked　them　up　on　a　fencing　bust；　and　we　figured　if　we　could　get　a　line　on　the　owner　we　could　find　out　something　more　on　the　burglars。　Is　this　a　valuable　collection；　or　not？〃
　　Wulgemuth　shrugged。　〃What　you're　talking　about　here；　sergeant；　is　intrinsic　value。　That's　what　I　deal　in。　It's　worth　what　someone　wants　to　pay　for　it；　and　that's　probably　a　lot　more　than　its　face　value。　This　is　by　no　means　a　rare　collection；　even　though　a　cursory　look　shows　that　all　the　coins　are　in　pretty　fair　condition。〃
　　〃Did　you　ever　see　it　before？〃
　　〃As　a　collection；　no；　but　I've　seen　a　lot　like　it。　What　happened　to　your　eye；　anyway？〃
　　〃Car　accident。〃
　　〃You　oughta　sue　the　doctor　who　sewed　you　up。　You　could　make　a　bundle。〃
　　〃He　said　it　would　look　okay　once　it　scarred　over。〃
　　〃He　lied。　Anyway；　this　isn't　my　coin　case；　either。〃
　　Freddy　closed　the　lid　on　the　case；　and　snapped　the　two　hasp　locks　closed。　〃I'll　try　another　dealer。　Can　you　show　me　one　of　your　coin　cases？　I'd　like　to　see　how　different　yours　are　from　this　one。〃
　　〃I　don't　have　any　on　hand；　not　right　now。〃
　　〃Not　even　in　your　safe？〃
　　〃None　for　silver　dollars。〃
　　〃Who　else　sells　cowhide　cases　like　this　one；　then？〃
　　〃You're　on　the　wrong　track；　sergeant。　All　the　trade　magazines　advertise　cases　like　this。　You　can　order　coin　cases　by　mail；　from　cheap　canvas　jobs　to　custom…made　ostrich　with　your　initials　in　gold。〃
　　〃I　see。〃
　　〃How　e　a　Homicide　detective's　so　interested　in　tracing　stolen　property？　Is　there　a　murder　involved　in　this　collection？〃
　　〃That's　confidential；　Mr。　Wulgemuth。　I'm　also　checking　out　your　place　here　for　security。　We've　had　a　tip；　you　see；　and　we're　thinking　about　putting　a　stakeout　in　here。　Someone…we　don't　know　who…has　been　hitting　coin　dealers。〃
　　〃You're　telling　me！　D'you　know　how　many　times　I've　been　robbed？　Before　I　put　in　that　window；　I　was　hit　three　times　in　one　month！　But　I　don't　need　any　stakeouts　now。〃
　　〃Why　not？〃　Freddy　smiled；　and　reached　into　his　jacket　pocket　for　his　pistol。　His　fingers　closed　over　the　crosshatched　grip。
　　〃Because　of　Pedro。〃　Wulgemuth　turned　his　head。　〃Pedro！〃　The　door　in　the　back　opened　with　a　bang。　A　short；　wideshouldered；　dark…haired　man　came　through　the　doorway。　His　double…barreled　shotgun　was　pointed　at　Freddy's　chest。　His　dark；　serious　face　was　expressionless。
　　〃He's　been　watching　you　all　the　time　through　the　peephole　in　the　door。〃　Wulgemuth　laughed。　〃It's　okay；　Pedro。　This　is　Detective　Sergeant　Moseley。　He's　with　the　police　department。〃
　　Pedro　lowered　his　shotgun　and　turned　toward　the　back　door。　As　he　turned；　Freddy　pulled　out　his　。38　and　shot　him　in　the　back。　Pedro　fell；　face　down；　through　the　open　door　to　the　back　storeroom。　The　shotgun　clattered　on　the　terrazzo　floor　but　did　not　go　off。　Freddy　was　still　looking　down　at　Pedro；　deciding　whether　to　fire　another　shot；　when　Wulgemuth　with　a　sweeping　motion　brought　up　a　machete　from　beneath　the　counter。　In　a　wide　arc；　he　brought　it　down　on　Freddy's　left　hand；　which　was　resting　on　the　coin　case。　Freddy's　little　finger；　the　ring　finger；　and　the　middle　finger　were　lopped　off　cleanly　at　their　second　joints。　The　force　of　the　downward　swing　drove　the　blade　into　the　leather　of　the　case。　Freddy　shot　Wulgemuth　in　the　face。　The　bullet　made　a　round　hole　just　below　his　nose。　He　fell　back　with　a　gurgling　sound；　dead　before　his　bald　head　hit　the　terrazzo　floor。
　　For　a　long　moment；　Freddy　looked　without　prehension　at　the　exposed　and　bloody　bones　of　his　left　hand。　The　hand　was　numb　at　first；　and　then　he　felt　a　jolt　that　raced　back　and　forth　from　his　hand　to　his　elbow。　The　stumps　of　his　fingers　were　bleeding；　but　not　as　much　as　he