chiaasen.stormyweather-第72章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　fields　in　which　Michel　sorely　lacked　experience　was　that　of　girding　single…family　structures　to　withstand　the　force　of　tropical　cyclones。　His　new　employer　assured　him　there　was　nothing　to　it；　and　FedExed　him　a　copy　of　the　South　Florida　Building　Code；　which　weighed　several　pounds。　Christophe　Michel　skimmed　it　on　the　flight　from　Orly　to　Miami。
　
　He　got　along　fine　at　Zenith；　once　he　understood　that　cost　containment　was　higher　on　the　list　of　corporate　priorities　than　ensuring　structural　integrity。　To　justify　its　preposterously　inflated　prices；　the　pany　had　hyped　Gables…on…the…Bay　as　〃South　Florida's　first　hurricane…proof　munity。〃　Much　in　the　same　way；　Michel　later　reflected；　that　the　Titanic　was　promoted　as　unsinkable。
　
　All　week　the　news　from　Dade　County　worsened。　The　newspaper　hired　its　own　construction　engineers　to　inspect　the　storm　rubble；　uncovering　so　many　design　flaws　that　an　unabridged　listing　was　possible　only　in　the　tiniest　of　agate　type。　One　of　the　engineers　sarcastically　remarked　that　Gables…on…the…Bay　should　have　been　called　Gables…w…the…Bay…a　quote　so　colorful　that　it　merited　enlargement；　in　boldface；　on　the　front　page。
　
　With　home　owners　picketing　Zenith　headquarters　and　demanding　a　grand　jury；　Christophe　Michel　prudently　planned　his　departure　from　the　United　States。　He　closed　his　bank　accounts；　shuttered　the　condo　in　Key　West；　packed　the　Seville　and　set　out　for　the　mainland。
　
　The　rain　did　nothing　for　his　fragile　confidence　in　American　traffic。　Every　bend　and　rise　in　the　overseas　highway　was　a　trial　of　reflexes　and　posure。　Michel　finished　his　last　cigaret　while　crossing　the　Bahia　Honda　Bridge；　and　by　Islamorada　had　gnawed　his　forty…dollar　manicure　to　slaw。　At　the　first　break　in　the　weather；　he　stopped　at　a　Circle　K　for　a　carton　of　Broncos；　an　American　brand　to　which　he　unaccountably　had　bee　devoted。
　
　When　he　returned　to　the　Seville；　four　strangers　emerged　from　the　shadows。　One　of　them　put　a　gun　to　his　belly。
　
　〃Give　us　your　goddamn　car；〃　the　man　said。　〃Certainly。〃
　
　〃Don't　stare　at　me　like　that！〃
　
　〃Sorry。〃　The　engineer's　trained　eye　calculated　the　skew　of　the　man's　jawbone　at　thirty…five　degrees　off　center。
　
　〃I　got　one　bullet　left！〃
　
　〃I　believe　you；〃　said　Christophe　Michel。　The　disfigured　gunman　told　him　to　go　back　in　the　store　and　count　backward　from　one　hundred；　slowly。　Michel　asked；　〃May　I　keep　my　suitcase？〃
　
　〃Fuck；　no！〃
　
　〃I　understand。〃
　
　He　was　counting　aloud　as　he　walked　for　the　second　time　into　the　Circle　K。　The　clerk　at　the　register　asked　if　something　was　wrong。　Michel；　fumbling　to　light　a　Bronco；　nodded　explicitly。
　
　〃My　life　savings　just　drove　away；〃　he　said。　〃May　I　borrow　the　telephone？〃
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　expected　Skink　to　erupt　in　homicidal　fury　upon　seeing　his　best　friend　shot　down。　He　didn't。　Bonnie　worried　about　the　listless　sag　to　his　shoulders；　the　near　feebleness　of　his　movements。　He　wore　the　numb；　unfocused　glaze　of　the　heavily　sedated。　Bonnie　was　sorry　to　see　the　governor's　high　spirits　extinguished。
　
　Meanwhile　Snapper　ranted　and　swore　because　the　Seville　had　no　CD　player；　only　a　tape　deck；　and　here　he'd　gone　to　all　the　goddamn　trouble　of　removing　his　pact　discs　from　the　Jeep　before　they'd　ditched　it　behind　the　convenience　store。
　
　Bonnie　squeezed　Skink's　arm　and　asked　if　he　was　all　right。　He　shifted　his　feet；　and　something　rattled　metallically　on　the　floorboard。　He　picked　it　up　and　asked；　〃What's　this？〃
　
　It　was　a　red　pronged　instrument；　with　a　black　plastic　grip　and　a　chrome　key　lock。
　
　Snapper　looked　over　his　shoulder　and　sniggered。　〃The　Club！〃
　
　〃The　what？〃
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　said；　〃You　know。　That　thing　they　advertise　all　the　time　on　TV。〃
　
　〃I　watch　no　television；〃　Skink　said。
　
　Snapper　hooted。　〃The　Club；　for　Chrissakes。　The　Club！　See；　you　lock　it　across't　here〃…he　patted　the　steering　wheel…〃so　your　car　don't　get　stolen。〃
　
　〃Really？〃
　
　〃Yeah。　Lotta　good　it　did　that　dickhead　back　at　the　Circle　K。〃　Snapper's　laughter　had　a　ring　of　triumph。
　
　Edie　Marsh　was　struggling　to　collect　herself　after　the　shooting。　Even　in　the　darkness；　Bonnie　could　see　fresh　tears　shining　in　her　eyelashes。
　
　〃I　had　this　boyfriend；〃　Edie　sniffled；　〃he　put　one　of　those　on　his　new　Firebird。　They　got　it　anyway。　Right　out　of　the　driveway；　broad　daylight。　What　they　did；　they　iced　the　lock　and　cracked　it　with　a　hammer。〃
　
　Snapper　said；　〃No　shit？　Froze　it？〃
　
　〃Yeah。〃　Edie　couldn't　e　to　terms　with　what　had　happened　at　the　Paradise　Palms；　the　wrongness　and　maddening　stupidity　of　it。　They'd　never　get　away　now。　Never。　Killing　a　cop！　How　had　a　harmless　insurance　scam　e　so　unhinged？
　
　Skink　was　impressed　with　the　ingenious　simplicity　of　The　Club。　He　took　special　interest　in　the　notched　slide　mechanism；　which　allowed　the　pronged　ends　to　be　fitted　snugly　into　almost　any　large　aperture。
　
　〃See；　that　way　you　can't　turn　the　wheel；〃　Snapper　was　explaining；　still　enjoying　the　irony；　〃so　nobody　can　drive　off　with　your　fancy　new　Cadillac　Seville。　'Less　they　put　a　fuckin'　gun　in　your　ribs。　Ha！　Accept　no　imitations！〃
　
　Skink　set　the　device　down。
　
　〃Accept　no　imitations！〃　Snapper　crowed　again；　waving　the　。357。
　
　The　governor's　gaze　turned　out　the　window；　drifting　again。　Teasingly；　Bonnie　said：　〃I　can't　believe　you've　never　seen　one　of　those。〃
　
　This　time　the　smile　was　sad。　〃I　lead　a　sheltered　life。〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　wondered　if　Snapper　could　have　picked　a　dumber　location　to　shoot　a　cop…a　county　of　slender；　connected　islands；　with　only　one　way　out。　She　kept　checking　for　blue　police　lights　behind　them。
　
　Snapper　told　her　to　knock　it　off；　she　was　making　everyone　a　nervous　wreck。　〃Another　half　hour　we're　home　free；〃　he　said；　〃back　on　the　mainland。　Then　we　find　another　car。〃
　
　〃One　with　a　CD　player；　I　bet。〃
　
　〃Damn　right。〃
　
　The　Seville　got　boxed　in　behind　a　slow　beer　truck。　They　wound　up　stopped　at　the　traffic　light　in　Key　Largo。　Again　Edie　snuck　a　peek　behind　them。　Snapper　heard　a　gasp。
　
　〃What！〃　He　spun　his　head。　〃Is　it　cops？〃
　
　〃No。　The　Jeep！〃
　
　〃You're　crazy；　that　ain't　possible…〃
　
　〃Right　behind　us；〃　Edie　said。
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　began　to　turn　around；　but　Skink　held　her　shoulder。　The　light　turned　green。　Snapper　floored　the　Seville；　zipped　smartly　between　the　beer　truck　and　a　meandering　Toyota。　He　said：　〃You　crazy　twat；　there's　only　about　a　million　goddamn　black　Jeeps　on　the　road。〃
　
　〃Yeah？〃　Edie　said。　〃With　bullet　holes　in　the　roof？〃　She　could　see　a　bud　of　mushroomed　steel　above　the　passenger　side。
　
　〃Jesus。〃　Snapper　used　the　barrel　of　the　。357　to　adjust　the　rearview　mirror。　〃Jesus；　you　sure？〃
　
　The　Cherokee　was　still　on　their　bumper。　Bonnie　noticed　the　governor　wore　a　faint　smile。　Edie　picked　up　on　it；　too。　She　said；　〃What's　going　on？　Who's　that　behind　us？〃
　
　Skink　shrugged。　Snapper　said：　〃How　'bout　this？　I　don't　care　who's　back　there；　because　he's　already　one　dead　cocksucker。　That's　'zackly　how　many　shots　I　got　left。〃
　
　In　what　seemed　to　Bonnie　as　a　single　fluid　motion；　the　governor　reached　across　the　seat；　wrenched　the　。357　from　Snapper's　hand　and　fired　it　point…blank　into　the　Cadillac's　dashboard。
　
　Then　he　dropped　it　on　Snapper's　lap　and　said：　〃Now　you've　got　jackshit。〃
　
　Snapper　labored　not　to　pile　the　car　into　a　utility　pole。　Edie　Marsh's　ears　rang　from　the　gun　blast；　although　she　wasn't　surprised　by　what　had　happened。　It　had　only　been　a　matter　of　time。　The　smiler　had　been　humoring　them。
　
　One　thought　reverberated　in　Bonnie　Lamb's　head：　What　now？　What　in　the　world　will　he　do　next？
　
　Snapper；　straining　not　to　appear　frightened；　hollering　at　Skink　over　his　shoulder：　〃Try　anything；　anything；　I　fuckin'　swear　we're　all　going　off　a　bridge。　You　unner…stand？　We'll　all　be　dead。〃
　
　〃Eyes　on　the　road；　chief。〃
　
　〃Don't　touch　me；　goddammit！〃
　
　Skink　placed　his　chin　next　to　the　headrest；　inches　from　Snapper's　right　ear。　He　said；　〃That　cop　you　shot；　he　was　a　friend　of　mine。〃
　
　Edie　Marsh's　chin　dropped。　〃Tell　me　it　wasn't　'Jim。'〃
　
　〃It　was。〃
　
　〃Naturally。〃　She　sighed　disconsolately。
　
　〃So　what？〃　Snapper　said。　His　shoulders　bunched。　〃Like　I'm　supposed　to　know。　Fucking　co