ch.doublewhammy-第16部分

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　〃Pretty　dull　stuff；　Rage。〃　Sometimes　she　called　him　Rage　instead　of　R。　J。　It　was　a　pet　name　that　had　something　to　do　with　his　temper。　Decker　didn't　mind　it；　ing　from　Catherine。
　〃I've　got　a　good　one　cooking；〃　he　said。
　〃Yeah？　Like　what？〃
　She　looked　great　in　the　warm　red　light。　Catherine　was　a　knockout。　Was；　is；　always　will　be。　An　expensive　knockout。
　〃I'm　investigating　a　professional　fisherman；〃　Decker　said；　〃for　cheating　in　tournaments。　Allegedly。〃
　〃e　on；　Rage。〃
　〃I'm　serious。〃
　Catherine　folded　her　arms　and　gave　him　a　motherly　look。　〃Why　don't　you　ask　the　paper　for　your　old　job　back？〃
　〃Because　the　paper　won't　pay　me　a　hundred　large　to　go　fishing。〃
　Catherine　said；　〃Wow。〃
　She　smelled　wonderful。　She　knew　Decker　liked　a　certain　perfume　so　she　always　wore　it　for　him…what　was　the　name？　He　couldn't　remember。　Something　fashionably　neurotic。　pulsion；　that　was　it。　A　scent　that　probably　wouldn't　appeal　to　Dr。　James；　at　least　Decker　hoped　not。　He　wondered　if　Catherine　was　still　on　the　same　four…ounce　bottle　he'd　bought　for　her　birthday　three　years　ago。
　Decker　tweezered　another　black…and…white　of　the　goldbrick　fireman　out　of　the　fixer　and　rinsed　it　down。
　〃No　pictures　of　fish？〃　Catherine　asked。
　〃Not　yet。〃
　〃Somebody　is　really　gonna　pay　you　a　hundred　thousand？〃
　〃Well；　at　least　fifty。　That's　if　I　get　what　he　wants。〃
　She　said；　〃What　are　you　going　to　do　with　all　that　money？〃
　〃Try　to　buy　you　back。〃
　Catherine's　laugh　died　in　her　throat。　She　looked　hurt。　〃That's　not　really　funny；　R。J。〃
　〃I　guess　not。〃
　〃You　didn't　mean　it；　did　you？〃
　〃No；　I　didn't　mean　it。〃
　〃You've　got　a　nasty　streak。〃
　〃I　was　beaten　as　a　child；〃　Decker　said。
　〃Can　we　get　out　of　here？　I'm　getting　high　on　your　darn　chemicals。〃
　
　Decker　took　her　to　a　barbecue　joint　on　South　Dixie　Highway。　Catherine　ordered　half　a　chicken　and　iced　tea；　he　had　beer　and　ribs。　They　talked　about　a　thousand　little　things；　and　Decker　thought　about　how　much　fun　it　was　to　be　with　her；　still。　It　wasn't　a　sad　feeling；　just　wistful；　he　knew　it　would　go　away。　The　best　feelings　always　did。
　〃Have　you　thought　about　New　York？〃　Catherine　asked。
　The　free…lance　speech。　Decker　knew　it　by　heart。
　〃Look　at　Foley。　He　had　a　cover　shot　on　Sports　Illustrated　last　summer；〃　she　said。
　Foley　was　another　photographer　who'd　quit　the　newspaper　and　gone　free…lance。
　〃Hale　Irwin；〃　Decker　said　derisively。
　〃What？〃
　〃That　was　Foley's　big　picture。　A　golfer。　A　fucking　golfer；　Catherine。　That's　not　what　I　want　to　do；　follow　a　bunch　of　Izod　shirts　around　a　hot　golf　course　all　day　for　one　stupid　picture。〃
　Catherine　said；　〃It　was　just　an　example；　Rage。　Foley's　had　plenty　of　business　since　he　moved　to　New　York。　And　not　just　golfers；　so　don't　give　me　that　pissed…off　look。〃
　〃He's　a　good　shooter。〃
　〃But　you're　better；　by　a　mile。〃　She　reached　across　the　table　and　pinched　his　arm　gently。　〃Hey；　it　doesn't　have　to　be　heavy…duty。　No　Salvadors；　no　murders；　no　dead　girls　in　Cadillacs。　Just　stick　to　the　soft　stuff；　Rage；　you've　earned　it。〃
　Decker　guessed　it　was　about　time　for　the　all…that…wasted…talent　routine。
　Catherine　came　through。　〃I　just　hate　to　see　you　wasting　all　your　talent；〃　she　said。　〃Snooping　around　like　a　thief；　taking　pictures　of　。。。　〃
　〃Guys　who　cheat　insurance　panies。〃
　〃Yeah。〃
　Decker　said；　〃Maybe　you're　right。〃
　〃Will　you　think　about　New　York？〃
　〃Take　some　of　these　ribs；　I　can't　eat　'em　all。〃
　〃No；　thanks；　I'm　fall。〃
　〃So　tell　me　about　the　quack。〃
　〃Stop　it；〃　Catherine　said。　〃James's　patients　are　wild　about　him。　He's　very　generous　with　his　time。〃
　〃And　the　spine…cracking　business　is　good。〃
　〃Good；　but　it　could　be　better；〃　Catherine　said。　〃James　is　talking　about　moving。〃
　Decker　grinned。　〃Let　me　guess　where。〃
　Catherine　reddened。　〃His　brother's　got　a　practice　on　Long　Island。　It's　going　gangbusters；　James　says。〃
　〃No　shit？〃
　〃Don't　look　so　cocky；　R。J。　This　has　nothing　to　do　with　you。〃
　〃So　you　wouldn't　e　see　me；〃　Decker　said。　〃I　mean；　if　I　were　to　move　to　New　York　and　you　somehow　wound　up　on　Long　Island；　you　wouldn't　drop　by　and　chat？〃
　Catherine　wiped　her　hands　on　a　napkin。　〃Jesus；　I　don't　know。〃　Her　voice　was　different　now；　the　airy　confidence　gone。　〃I　don't　know　what　I've　done；　R。J。　Sometimes　I　wonder。　James　is　special　and　I　realize　how　lucky　I　am；　but　still　。。。　The　man　irons　his　socks；　did　I　tell　you　that？〃
　Decker　nodded。　〃You　called　me　from　your　honeymoon　to　tell　me　that。〃　From　Honolulu　she'd　called。
　〃Yeah；　well。〃
　〃That's　okay；〃　Decker　said。　〃I　didn't　mind。〃　It　was　better　than　losing　her　pletely。　He　would　miss　her　if　the　sock…ironing　chiropractor　whisked　her　away　to　New　York。
　〃You　know　the　hell　of　it？〃　Catherine　said。　〃My　back's　still　killing　me。〃
　
　Decker's　telephone　was　ringing　when　he　returned　to　the　trailer。　The　man　on　the　other　end　didn't　need　to　identify　himself。
　〃Hello；　Miami。〃
　〃Hey；　captain。〃　Decker　was　surprised。　Skink　would　do　anything　to　avoid　the　phone。
　〃The　Armadillo　is　dead；〃　said　Skink。
　Decker　figured　Skink　was　talking　about　his　supper。
　〃You　listening？〃　Skink　said。
　〃The　armadillo。〃
　〃Yeah；　your　little　pal　from　the　newspaper。〃
　〃Ott？〃
　〃Officially　he's　only　missing。　Unofficially　he's　dead。　You　better　get　up　here。　It's　time　to　go　to　work。〃
　Decker　sat　down　at　the　kitchen　counter。　〃Start　at　the　beginning；〃　he　said。　Gruffly　Skink　summarized　the　facts　of　the　disappearance；　closing　with　a　neutral　explanation　of　Ott　Pickney's　alter　ego；　Davey　Dillo。
　〃They　say　he　was　very　convincing；〃　Skink　said；　by　way　of　condolence。
　Decker　had　a　hell　of　a　hard　time　imagining　Ott　in　an　armadillo　costume　on　a　skateboard。　He　had　a　harder　time　imagining　Ott　dead。
　〃Maybe　they　just　took　him　somewhere　to　put　a　scare　in　him；〃　he　speculated。
　〃No　way；〃　Skink　said。　〃I'll　see　you　soon。　Oh　yeah…when　you　get　to　Harney；　don't　check　in　at　the　motel。　It's　not　safe。　You'd　better　stay　out　here　with　me。〃
　〃I'd　rather　not；〃　Decker　said。
　〃Aw；　it'll　be　loads　of　fun；〃　Skink　said　with　a　grunt。　〃We　can　roast　weenies　and　marshmallows。〃
　
　Decker　drove　all　night。　He　shot　straight　up　Interstate　95　and　got　off　at　Route　222；　just　west　of　Wabasso。　Another　ninety　minutes　and　he　was　in　Harney　County。　By　the　time　he　got　to　Skink's　place　on　the　lake；　it　was　four…thirty　in　the　morning。　Already　one　or　two　bass　boats　were　out　on　the　water；　Decker　could　hear　the　big　engines　chewing　up　the　darkness。
　At　the　sound　of　Decker's　car　Skink　clumped　onto　the　porch。　He　was　fully　dressed…boots；　sunglasses；　the　orange　weathersuit。　Decker　wondered　if　he　slept　in　uniform。
　〃That's　some　driving；〃　Skink　said。　〃Get　your　gear　and　e　on　inside。〃
　Decker　carried　his　duffel　into　the　shack。　It　was　the　first　time　he　had　ventured　beyond　the　porch；　and　he　wasn't　sure　what　to　expect。　Pelts；　maybe。　Wallpaper　made　from　rabbit　pelts。
　As　he　pushed　past　the　screen　door；　Decker　was　amazed　by　what　he　saw：　books。　Every　wall　had　raw　pine　shelves　to　the　ceiling；　and　every　shelf　was　lined　with　books。　The　east　wall　was　for　classic　fiction：　Poe；　Hemingway；　Dostoyevsky；　Mark　Twain；　Jack　London；　Faulkner；　Fitzgerald；　even　Boris　Pasternak。　The　west　wall　was　for　political　biographies：　Churchill；　Sandburg's　Lincoln；　Hitler；　Huey　Long；　Ei…senhower；　Joseph　McCarthy；　John　F。　Kennedy；　even　Robert　Caro's　Lyndon　Johnson；　though　it　looked　like　a　book…club　edition。　The　south　wall　was　exclusively　for　reference　books：　the　Britannica；　Current　Biography；　the　Florida　Statutes；　even　the　Reader's　Guide　to　Periodic　Literature。　This　was　the　wall　of　the　shack　that　leaned　so　precipitously；　and　now　Decker　knew　why：　it　held　the　heaviest　books。
　The　shelves　of　the　north　wall　were　divided　into　two　sections。　The　top　was　philosophy　and　the　humanities。　The　bottom　half　was　for　children's　books。　The　Hardy　Boys；　Tom　Swift；　Dr。　Seuss。　Charlotte's　Web　and　the　Brothers　Grimm。
　〃What're　you　staring　at？〃　Skink　demanded。
　〃These　are　great　books；〃　Decker　said。
　〃No　shit。〃
　In　the　middle　of　the　floor　there　was　a　bare　mattress　and　army　blanket；　but　no　pillow。　The　Remington　was　propped　in　a　corner。　The　Coleman　lantern　hung　from　a　slat　in　the　ceiling；　it　offered　only　a　fuzzy　white　light　that　would　flare　or　dim　as　the　mantle　burned　down。　Decker　thought　Skink　must　do　his　reading　in　the　daytime；　or　else　he'd　go　blind。
　Another　car　pulled　up　outside　the　shack。　Decker　glanced　at　Skink。　He　looked　as　if　he　were　expecting　somebody。　He　pushed　open　the　screen　door　and　a　cop　walked　in；　a　state　trooper。　Stiff　cowboy…style　hat；　pressed　gray　uniform　（long　sleeves　of　course）。　On　one　shoulder　was　a　patch　shaped　like　a　Florida　orange。　The　cop　was　almost　as　big　as　Skink。　He　was　younger；　though…a　wedge　of　muscle　from　the　waist　up。
　Decker　noticed　that　this　state　trooper　was　different　from　most。
　Most　were　big；　young；　lean；　and　white。　This　trooper　was　black。　Decker　could　not　imagine　a　more　miserable　place　than　Harney　County　to　be　a　black　cop。
　〃This　is　Jim　Tile；〃　Skink　said。　〃Jim；　this　is　the　guy　I　told　you　about。〃
　〃Miami；〃　Tile　said；　and　shook　Decker's　hand。　Skink　dragged　a　rocker　and　a　folding　chair　in　from　the　porch。　Tile　took　off　his　hat　and　sat　down　in　the　rocker；　Decker　took　the　chair　and　Skink　sat　on　the　bare　pine　floor。
　Decker　said；　〃What　happened　to　Ott？〃
　〃H