ch.doublewhammy-第34部分

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rybody　in　the　office　had　agreed　that　technically　it　wasn't　a　homicide；　more　likely　petty　larceny。　What　could　a　crumbly　old　skull　be　worth　on　the　street？　they　had　asked。　Fifteen；　twenty　bucks；　tops。　Unfortunately；　it　developed　that　one　of　the　rudely　mutilated　cadavers　belonged　to　the　uncle　of　a　Miami　city　missioner；　so　the　case　had　hastily　been　elevated　to　a　priority　status　and　all　detectives　were　admonished　to　keep　their　sick　senses　of　humor　to　themselves。
　About　noon　Garcia　had　to　drop　the　head　case　when　a　real　murder　happened。　A　Bahamian　crack　freak　had　carved　up　his　male　roommate；　skinned　him　out　like　a　mackerel；　and　tried　to　sell　the　fillets　to　a　wholesale　seafood　market　on　Bird　Road。　It　was　one　of　those　cases　so　bent　as　to　be　threatened　by　the　sheer　weight　of　law…enforcement　bureaucracy…the　crime　scene　had　been　crawling　not　just　with　policemen；　but　with　deputy　coroners；　assistant　prosecutors；　immigration　officers；　even　an　inspector　from　the　USDA。　By　the　time　the　mess　was　cleaned　up；　Garcia's　bum　shoulder　was　throbbing　angrily。　Pure；　hundred…percent　stress。
　He　had　spotted　the　express　packet　from　New　Orleans　when　he　got　back　to　the　office。　A　perfectly　shitty　ending　to　a　shitty　day。　Now　R。　J。　Decker　had　made　like　a　rabbit　and　Garcia　was　stuck　in　a　crackerbox　trailer　park　trying　to　decide　if　he　should　leave　these　moron　patrolmen　to　wait　with　the　warrant。　He　was　reasonably　sure　that；　left　unsupervised；　they　would　gladly　shoot　Decker　or　at　least　beat　the　hell　out　of　him；　just　to　make　up　for　all　the　aggravation。
　〃Screw　it；〃　Garcia　said　finally；　〃let's　go　get　some　coffee　and　try　again　later。〃
　
　〃He'll　be　back；〃　Decker　said　when　he　heard　the　police　cars　pull　away。
　Skink　had　let　go　of　his　neck。　They　were　still　in　the　darkroom；　where　Skink's　fluorescent　rainsuit　shone　almost　white　in　the　wash　of　the　red　bulb。　Skink　appeared　more　haggard　and　rumpled　than　Decker　remembered；　twigs　and　small　pieces　of　leaf　hung　like　confetti　in　his　long　gray　braid。　His　hair　stuck　out　in　clumps　from　under　the　shower　cap。
　〃Where　have　you　been？〃　Decker　asked。　His　neck　was　torturing　him；　like　someone　had　pounded　a　railroad　spike　into　the　crown　of　his　spine。
　〃The　girl；〃　Skink　said。　〃I　should　have　known。〃
　〃Lanie？〃
　〃I　got　back　to　the　room　and　there　she　is；　half…undressed。　She　said　you'd　invited　her　to　fly　up…〃
　〃No　way。〃
　〃I　figured；〃　Skink　said。　〃That's　why　I　tied　her　up；　so　you　could　decide　for　yourself　what　to　do。　You　cut　her　loose；　I　presume。〃
　〃Yeah。〃
　〃And　screwed　her　too？〃
　Decker　frowned。
　〃Just　what　I　thought；〃　Skink　said。　〃We've　got　to　get　the　hell　out　of　here。〃
　〃Listen；　captain；　that　cop　is　a　friend　of　mine。〃
　〃Which　one？〃　With　one　blackened　finger　Skink　scratched　absently　at　a　brambly　eyebrow。
　〃The　Cuban　detective。　Garcia's　his　name。〃
　〃So？〃
　〃So　he's　a　good　man；〃　Decker　said。　〃He'll　try　to　get　us　a　break。〃
　〃Us？〃
　〃Yeah；　with　the　New　Orleans　people。　Al　could　make　it　as　painless　as　possible。〃
　Skink　studied　Decker's　face　and　said；　〃Hell；　I　guess　I　squeezed　too　tight。〃
　
　They　went　to　a　Denny's　on　Biscayne　Boulevard；　where　Skink　fit　right　in　with　the　clientele。　He　ordered　six　raw　eggs　and　a　string　of　pork　sausages。　Decker's　neck　had　stiffened　up；　and　he　had　the　worst　headache　of　his　life。
　〃You　could　have　just　tapped　me　on　the　shoulder；〃　he　plained。
　〃No　time　to　be　polite；〃　Skink　said；　without　a　trace　of　apology。　〃I　did　it　for　your　own　good。〃
　〃How'd　you　get　in；　anyway？〃
　〃Slim…jimmed　the　back　door。　Two　minutes　later　and　your　bosom　buddy　Garcia　would　have　had　you　in　bracelets。　Eat　something；　all　right？　We　got　a　long　damn　ride。〃
　Decker　had　no　intention　of　taking　a　long　damn　ride　with　Skink；　and　no　intention　of　getting　picked　up　as　an　accessory　to　murder。　He　had　decided　not　to　turn　Skink　in　to　the　police；　but　the　man　would　have　to　make　his　own　escape；　the　partnership　was　over。
　Skink　said；　〃Your　neighbors'll　raise　hell　about　the　dead　dogs。〃
　〃Oh？〃
　〃Couldn't　be　helped；〃　Skink　said；　slurping　a　drip　of　yolk　from　his　mustache。　〃Self…defense。〃
　〃You　killed　the　pit　bulldogs？〃
　〃Not　all　of　them。　Just　the　ones　that　were　chasing　me。〃
　Before　Decker　could　ask；　Skink　said；　〃With　a　knife。　No　one　saw　a　thing。〃
　〃God。〃　Decker's　brainpan　felt　like　the　bells　of　Notre　Dame。　He　noticed　that　his　fingers　twitched　when　he　tried　to　butter　a　biscuit。　It　dawned　on　him　that　he　was　not　a　well　person；　that　he　needed　to　go　to　a　doctor。
　But　before　he　abandoned　Skink　he　wanted　to　ask　about　Dickie　Lockhart。　He　wanted　to　hear　Skink's　version；　in　case　it　never　came　out。
　〃When　you　left　the　motel　in　Hammond；〃　Decker　began；　〃where'd　you　go？〃
　〃Back　to　the　lake。　Borrowed　a　boat　and　found　Dickie's　fish　traps。〃
　〃You're　kidding。〃
　Skink　beamed。　A　brown　clot　of　sausage　was　stuck　between　his　two　front　teeth。　'The　boat　I　took　was　Ozzie　Rundell's；〃　he　said。　〃Dumb　fucker　left　the　keys　in　the　switch　and　a　map　in　the　console。〃
　〃A　depth　chart　of　Lake　Maurepas；〃　Decker　guessed；　〃with　the　trap　sites　marked。〃
　〃Marked　real　clear；　too；〃　Skink　said；　〃in　crayon；　just　for　Ozzie。〃
　It　made　sense。　While　Dickie　Lockhart　was　celebrating　his　victory；　the　Rundells　would　sneak　out　on　the　lake　to　clean　up　the　evidence。　Dickie　was　so　cheap　he　probably　used　the　same　traps　over　and　over。
　〃Those　fish　he　won　with　were　Florida　bass；〃　Skink　was　saying。　〃Probably　trucked　in　from　Lake　Jackson　or　maybe　the　Rodman。　That　mudhole　Maurepas　never　saw　bass　that　pretty；　you　can　bet　your　ass…〃
　〃What'd　you　do　after　you　found　the　traps？〃　Decker　cut　in。
　Skink　set　down　his　fork。　〃I　pulled　the　plug　on　Ozzie's　boat　and　swam　to　shore。〃
　〃Then？〃
　〃Then　I　stuck　out　my　thumb；　and　here　I　am。〃
　Two　cops　came　in；　walking　the　cowboy　walk；　and　took　a　booth。　Cops　ate　at　Denny's　all　the　time；　but　still　they　made　Decker　nervous。　They　kept　glancing　over　at　Skink…hard　glances…and　Decker　could　tell　they　were　dreaming　up　an　excuse　for　a　hassle　and　ID　check。　He　laid　a　ten　on　the　table　and　headed　for　the　car；　Skink　shuffled　behind；　shoving　a　couple　of　biscuits　into　the　pockets　of　his　rainsuit。　No　sooner　were　they　back　on　the　boulevard　than　Decker　spotted　another　patrol　car　in　the　rearview。　The　patrol　car　was　following　closely；　and　Decker　could　only　assume　that　Al　Garcia　had　put　out　the　word。　When　the　blue　lights　came　on；　Decker　dutifully　pulled　over。
　〃Hell；〃　Skink　said。
　Decker　waited　until　both　cops　were　out　of　the　car；　then　he　punched　the　accelerator　and　took　off。
　Skink　said；　〃Sometimes　I　like　your　style。〃
　Decker　guessed　he　had　a　three…minute　lead。　〃I'm　going　to　turn　on　Thirty…sixth　Street；〃　he　said；　〃and　when　I　hit　the　brakes；　you　bail　out。〃
　〃Why？〃　Skink　asked　calmly。
　Decker　was　pushing　the　old　Plymouth　beyond　its　natural　limits　of　speed　and　maneuverability。　It　was　one　of　those　nights　on　the　boulevard…every　other　car　was　either　a　Cadillac　or　a　junker；　and　nobody　was　going　over　thirty。　Decker　was　leaving　most　of　his　tread　on　the　asphalt；　and　running　every　stoplight。　The　rearview　was　clear；　but　he　knew　it　wouldn't　take　long　for　the　cops　to　radio　for　backup。
　〃You　might　want　to　try　another　road；〃　Skink　suggested。
　〃You're　a　big　help；〃　Decker　said；　watching　a　bus　loom　ahead。　He　took　a　right　on　Thirty…fifth　Street　and　braked　the　car　so　hard　he　could　smell　burnt　metal。　〃Get　going；〃　he　said　to　Skink。
　〃Are　you　crazy？〃
　〃Get　out！〃
　〃You　get　out；〃　Skink　said。　〃You're　the　dumb　shit　they're　after。〃
　Impatiently　Decker　jammed　the　gearshift　into　park。　〃Look；　all　they　got　me　for　is　agg　assault　and；　after　this；　a　misdemeanor　resisting。　Meanwhile　you're　looking　at　murder…one　if　they　put　it　all　together。〃
　With　a　plastic　crunch　Skink　turned　in　his　seat。　〃What　the　hell　are　you　talking　about？〃
　〃I'm　talking　about　Dickie　Lockhart。〃
　Skink　cackled。　〃You　think　I　killed　him？〃
　〃It　crossed　my　mind；　yeah。〃
　Skink　laughed　some　more；　and　punched　the　dashboard。　He　thought　the　whole　thing　was　hilarious。　He　was　hooting　and　howling　and　kicking　his　feet；　and　all　Decker　wanted　to　do　was　push　him　out　of　the　car　and　get　going。
　〃You　really　don't　know　what　happened；　do　you？〃　Skink　asked；　after　settling　down。
　Decker　killed　the　headlights　and　shrank　down　in　the　driver's　seat。　He　was　a　nervous　wreck；　couldn't　take　his　eyes　off　the　mirrors。　〃What　don't　I　know？〃　he　said　to　Skink。
　〃What　the　goddamn　warrant　says；　you　don't　even　know。　Jim　Tile　got　a　copy；　airmail。　He　read　it　to　me　first　thing　this　morning　and　you　should　hear　what　it　says；　Miami。　Says　you　murdered　Dickie　Lockhart。〃
　〃Me？〃
　〃That's　what　it　says。〃
　Decker　heard　the　first　siren　and　went　cold。
　Skink　said；　〃You　got　set　up；　buddy；　set　up　so　good　it's　almost　a　thing　of　beauty。　The　girl　was　bait。〃
　〃Go　on；〃　Decker　said　thickly。　He　was　trying　to　remember　Lanie's　story；　trying　to　remember　some　of　the　holes。
　〃Don't　even　think　about　turning　yourself　in；〃　Skink　said。　〃Garcia　may　be　your　pal　but　he's　no　magician。　Now　please　let's　get　the　hell　out　of　here　while　we　still　can。　I'll　tell　you　the　rest　as　we　go。〃
　
　They　ditched　the　Plymouth　back　at　the　trailer　park　and　took　a　bus　to　the　airport；　where　Decker　rented　a　white　Thunderbird　from　Avis。　Skink　did　not　approve；　he　said　they　needed　a　four…by…four　truck；　something　on　the　order　of　a　Bronco；　but　the　Avis　people　only　had　c