ericlustbader.the ninja-第45部分

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g　air　before　she　went　under　again。
　Nicholas　filled　her　thoughts　and；　despite　what　she　had　told　Doc　Deerforth；　she　considered　going　into　the　city。　She　hadn't　heard　from　him。　Surely　that　meant　he　was　busy。　God；　she　didn't　want　that　any　more。　But　she　wanted　him；　couldn't　help　it。　She　continued　to　stroke　outwards；　ing　up　just　long　enough　to　catch　sweet　air。　When　she　was　far　enough　out；　she　turned　to　her　right　to　parallel　the　shore。
　She　found　herself　thinking　of　the　long　black　and　gold　lacquered　sheath　hung　on　his　wall。　In　her　thoughts；　she　went　across　the　room　and；　on　tiptoes；　reached　up　slowly；　freeing　it　from　its　hook。　It　was　heavy；　satiny；　perfectly　balanced。　She　put　her　left　fist　around　the　end　of　the　sheath；　her　right　around　the　long　hilt　of　the　katana。　Nicholas's　katana。　Inch　by　inch；　as　she　exerted　slow　pressure；　she　saw　the　gleaming　steel　appear　before　her　wide…open　eyes　extending　in　a　crescent　horizon。　It　was　a　silver　dazzle；　blinding　her；　an　enormous　erection　that　continued　to　grow　under　her　ministrations。　Breath　caught　in　her　throat。　Her　heart　pounded。　The　pumping　blood　sang　in　her　ears。　And　the　cool　wash　of　the　sea　was　like　a　caress　over　her　swimming　body。　'Her　nipples　erected　and　she　felt　an　excitement　stir　between　her　legs。　Still　kicking；　she　put　one　hand　down；　cupped　her　mound。　She　moaned。　Bubbles　flew　like　birds　thrown　across　the　sky。
　She　felt　a　wash　of　cold　water　spiralling　up　her　legs　against　her　working　thighs。　It　was　so　much　like　the　stroking　hand　of　a　lover　that；　startled；　her　eyes　flew　open。　The　current　enpassed　her　aching　loins；　now　snaked　up　her　torso。　She　rolled　over。　It　was　then　that　she　felt　the　pull。　At　first　it　was　only　the　tiniest　of　tugs　but　abruptly；　as　the　tide　and　her　swimming　took　her　along；　it　wrenched　at　her。
　Her　impulse　was　to　gasp　but　she　clamped　her　teeth　shut　in　time。　The　undertow　was　pulling　her　inexorably　out　to　sea。　She　tumbled　in　its　grasp；　not　end　over　end　but　around；　as　if　she　was　a　cylinder。　Dizzied；　she　struck　out　blindly　for　the　shore。　She　was　an　excellent　swimmer　and　her　breath　capacity　was　good。　Still；　her　first　priority　was　to　gain　the　surface。
　Whirling；　she　struck　out　upwards　but　made　little　headway。　The　grip　upon　her　was　as　real　as　if　a　sea　serpent　had　appeared　from　some　unseen　abyss　and　had　wrapped　its　slippery　coils　about　her。
　She　broke　the　surface；　gasping　and　coughing。　But　in　doing　so　she　had　lost　ground　to　the　sea。　She　tried　to　lift　her　head；　shake　her　eyes　clear　of　the　stinging　salt　water　so　that　she　could　get　an　accurate　fix　on　the　shoreline。　She　was　jerked　under。
　She　began　to　panic。　Her　stomach　heaved　and　she　shivered；　not　even　swimming　now　but　merely　struggling　futilely。　Why　hadn't　she　screamed　when　she　was　in　the　air？　She　tried　to　rise　again　but　the　fierce　grip　would　not　let　her。　She　sank。　And　in　sinking；　found　her　way　home。　Near　the　murky　bottom　the　stillness　was　absolute。　She　wondered　at　this　for　a　moment；　her　mind　still　trembling　in　fear　until　she　realized　that　the　tug　of　the　current　was　gone。　She　reached　out　blindly；　encountered　rock。　She　pulled；　keeping　herself　at　this　level；　and　began　to　make　her　way　in　to　shore。
　Her　lungs　turned　to　fire　and　once　her　left　thigh　seemed　seized　in　a　cramp。　She　let　it　fall　loose　for　a　moment；　relaxing　her　muscles；　and　it　subsided。　She　went　on　scuttling　over　the　bottom　like　an　enormous　crab。　She　desperately　wanted　to　shoot　upwards　to　the　surface　but　her　terror　of　the　undertow　was　absolute。　She　pushed　on。　Her　eyes　felt　as　if　they　were　popping　out　of　their　sockets　and　an　unquiet　wind　blew　in　her　ears；　roaring。
　At　last　she　felt　the　warmth　of　the　shallower　water　and；　simultaneously；　the　gentle　push　of　the　tide　onto　the　rising　sand。
　She　sprang　upwards；　uncoiling　her　body　fully；　breaching　the　surface；　sounding　like　a　whale。　She　gasped　and　snorted；　her　insides　turning　to　jelly。　She　felt　the　sand　against　her　soles　and；　as　she　came　out　of　the　water；　she　found　her　legs　would　not　support　her。　She　fell　to　her　knees　and　a　wave　inundated　her。　She　fell　over。
　She　heard　the　sound　of　raised　voices　as　she　vomited　seawater　into　the　surf。　Then　strong　hands　had　her　under　her　armpits。　Her　head　hung　down　on　her　chest　and　she　coughed。
　'Are　you　all　right？'
　She　tried　to　nod；　only　vomited　again；　heaving　wretchedly。　She　felt　the　dry　sand　against　her　back。　She　was　aware　of　her　whole　body　gasping。　She　felt　as　if　she　would　never　get　enough　air　inside　her。　Her　lungs　worked　like　a　bellows　and　the　sound　was　so　harsh　and　rasping　to　her　ears　that　she　might　have　been　an　asthmatic。　There　was　a　folded　towel　behind　her　head；　elevating　her　face。　A　pins…and…needles　tingling　broke　out　along　her　cheeks　and　lips。　She　tried　to　raise　her　arms　but　they　felt　as　if　they　belonged　to　another　person。　There　was　no　strength　left　within　her。
　'Take　it　easy；'　someone　said　above　her。　'Take　it　easy。〃
　She　closed　her　eyes；　feeling　as　she　did　so　a　kind　of　kinetic　vertigo　as　one　does　after　stepping　off　a　violent　ride　at　an　amusement　park。　In　her　mind；　she　still　spun　in　the　grip　of　the　undertow。　Gradually　this　faded　and；　as　it　did　so；　her　breathing　began　to　return　to　normal。
　'Okay　now？'
　She　nodded；　not　daring　to　speak。
　'Live　around　here？'　It　was　a　feminine　voice。
　She　nodded。
　'We've　called　for　a　doctor。'
　Tm　all　right；'　she　said。　Her　voice　sounded　strange　to　her。
　'He'll　be　here　in　a　minute。'
　She　nodded；　closing　her　eyes　again。　She　thought　of　Gelda　and　the　time　at　the　seashore　when　they　were　both　in　the　water。　Perhaps　Gelda　was　nine；　she　was　six。　They　were　playing　and；　as　a　joke；　she　had　poked　Gelda　in　the　ribs。　Her　sister　had　turned　to　her；　a　look　of　fury　on　her　face；　and；　reaching　up　her　arms；　had　clamped　her　hands　onto　the　top　of　Justine's　head。　Down　Justine　had　gone；　under　the　water。　At　first　it　was　all　right。　But　then　she　wanted　to　get　up；　to　breathe。　Gelda　held　her　down。　She　struggled；　but　still　Gelda　would　not　relent。　In　her　mind；　she　pleaded　with　her　sister；　then　she　reviled　her。　When　at　last　Gelda　had　let　her　up；　she　was　hysterical。　She　ran　from　the　water；　crying；　right　into　her　mother's　arms。　She　had　never　told　anyone　what　Gelda　had　done　to　her　but　for　a　week　she　would　not　look　at；　let　alone　talk　to；　her　sister。　Gelda's　only　response　had　been　to　gloat　silently。
　Justine　opened　her　eyes　to　find　Doc　Deerforth　bending　over　her；　talking　to　her。　She　reached　up　and；　shuddering；　cried　against　his　chest。
　When　Lieutenant　Croaker　left　Nicholas　outside　the　dojo；　he　called　in　through　the　car　radio　to　see　about　messages。　McCabe　wanted　him　to　call　back；　that　was　no　doubt　about　the　Tanaka…Okura　thing；　Vegas　had　dropped　in　to　talk；　and　Finnigan　wanted　a　progress　report。
　He　was　rolling　cross…town　and　the　traffic　was　fierce。　'If　you　can　still　catch　Vegas；　tell　him　I'll　be　back　around　four…thirty；　okay？'　He　did　not　want　to　speak　to　the　D。A。　yet　and　as　for　Finnigan　…　fuck　him！
　No　other　calls。　Croaker　tried　to　clear　his　mind　of　the　anticipation。　But　oh；　how　he　wanted　that　call　to　e　in。　'That's　it；'　he　said。　'Patch　me　through　to　Vincent　Ito　at　the　M。E。's；　will　you？'　The　heat　sat　in　wavy　lines　along　the　street。　He　wiped　at　his　sweating　forehead。　When　Vincent　came　on　the　line；　Croaker　arranged　a　dinner。　Vincent　suggested　Michita　and　gave　Croaker　the　address。
　Croaker　went　through　Central　Park　at　the　Seventy…second　Street　Transverse　and；　moments　later；　he　had　pulled　up　outside　the　three…storey　brownstone　that　housed　Terry　Tanaka's　dojo。　There　he　interviewed　all　the　instructors。　He　called　for　a　police　artist　to　draw　a　posite　of　the　strange　Japanese　who　had　visited　the　dojo　on　the　afternoon　of　the　double　murder。　None　of　the　people　he　interviewed　had　seen　the　man　before　or　since。　None　knew　where　he　had　e　from。　The　aikido　sensei　recalled　his　name　as　Hideoshi；　but　that　meant　absolutely　nothing　to　Croaker。　Still；　it　was　conceivable　that　the　man　was　the　killer　or　was；　at　least；　tied　up　with　him　in　some　way。
　It　was　well　after　four　by　the　time　he　was　finished。　There　had　been　no　prints　at　Terry's　save　for　the　two　victims'；　but。。。　but　he　called　for　a　print　team　to　dust　the　dojo　anyway。　It　was　not　good　practice　to　overlook　any　possibility；　however　remote。　Who　knows；　he　thought；　we　may　be　lucky　and　pull　something。　Then　he　asked　for　a　detective　sergeant　to　canvass　the　block　to　see　if　any　neighbour　had　seen　the　man。
　In　the　office　he　checked　in　with　Irene；　threw　the　two　polythene　bags　of　clothes　and　personal　effects　of　Terry　and　Eileen　into　a　corner。
　He　checked　for　calls。　Nothing。
　He　was　about　to　open　the　bundles　for　tagging　when　his　doorway　was　darkened　by　Vegas。　He　was　an　enormous　man　with　a　full　beard　and　eyes　like　points　of　lightning。　His　skin　was　so　black　it　took　on　blue　highlights　in　the　fluorescent　lighting　of　the　station　house。
　'Hey；'　Croaker　said；　turning　his　head。
　'What　it　is。'　Vegas's　voice　was　like　the　rumble　of　distant　thunder。
　'Heard　you　wanted　to　see　me。'　；
　'Yowsah。'
　'Take　a　seat。'
　Vegas　sat　down　with　a　grunt。　He　wore　faded　jeans；　Texas　cowboy　boots　and　a　grey　and　black　cowboy　shirt　with　pearl　snaps。　'I　gots　to　get　outa　there；'　he　said。　He　meant　Narco。　'I　am　being　driven　up　the　fuckin'　wall。〃
　'Sallyson？'　He　was　the　Captain。
　'You　mean　Captain　Ahab。'　Vegas　snorted。　'The　fuckin'　bastard's　ready　for　the　funny　farm。'