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第107章

scoonts.theminotaur-第107章

小说: scoonts.theminotaur 字数: 每页4000字

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 〃Been waiting long?〃
 〃Five minutes。〃 Toad walked around the front of Jake's car and climbed in。 In spite of the sun and seventy…five…degree temperature; he was wearing a windbreaker。
 〃How's Rita?〃
 〃Doing okay。〃
 Jake got the car in motion。
 〃Where're we going?〃
 〃I told you on the phone。 To see the Minotaur。〃
 〃Yessir。 But where is that?〃
 〃You'll see。〃
 Toad lapsed into silence。 He sat with his hands in his lap and stared straight ahead at the road。 On the radio the preacher expounded on how Bible prophecy had predicted the popularity of rock music。
 Passing through Middleburg Toad said; 〃I think we ought to kill him。〃
 Jake held out his right hand; palm up。 Toad just looked at it。
 〃Let me have it。〃
 〃What?〃
 〃Your gun。 The one you have under that jacket。〃
 Toad reached under the left side of his jacket and extracted a pistol from his belt; which he laid in the captain's hand。 It was a navy…issue nine…millimeter automatic; well oiled but worn。 Jake pushed the button and the clip fell out in his hand。 This he pocketed。 Holding the gun with his right hand; he worked the slide with his left。 A shiny cartridge flipped out and went over his shoulder into the backseat。 The gun he slipped under the driver's seat。
 〃Who is he?〃
 〃You'll see。〃
 〃Why are we going if we aren't going to kill him?〃
 〃You've been watching too many Clint Eastwood movies。 And you ask too many questions。〃
 〃So why did you call me?〃
 〃I didn't want to go alone。 I wanted a witness。 The witness had to be someone who is basically incorruptible; someone beyond his reach。〃
 〃I'm not beyond anyone's reach。〃
 〃Oh; I think you are; Tarkington。 Not physical reach。 I'm talking about moral reach。 None of his weapons will get to you。〃
 〃You make me sound retarded。 How do you know this guy we're going to see is the Minotaur?〃
 〃I wrote him three letters。 Notes。 Then this morning I called him and said I was dropping by to chat。〃
 〃Just friendly as fucking shit。〃 Toad thought about it Jake waited for him to ask how Jake learned the Minotaur's identity; but the lieutenant had other things on his mind。 〃If it weren't for this turd; Camacho would have arrested Judy months ago and Rita wouldn't have got whacked up。 Camacho would still be alive。〃 He reached for the radio and snapped it off。 〃Goddamnit; Captain; this man is guilty。〃
 〃You don't know anything; Toad。 You don't know who; you don't know why。 Since Rita did get hurt; since that little mess in Camacho's basement; I thought you had a right to know。 That's why I called you。 So you're going to find out this afternoon。〃
 〃Do you know?〃
 〃Why; you mean?〃
 Toad nodded。
 Jake thought about it。 〃I've made some guesses。 But they're only that。 Guesses are three for a quarter。 Facts I don't have。 Camacho; though; he knew。〃
 〃And he's dead。〃
 〃Yes。〃 Jake turned the radio back on。
 〃Are we going to turn him in; call the cops?〃
 〃You ask too many questions。〃
 In a moment Toad said; 〃Why do you listen to this crap?〃 He gestured toward the radio。
 〃It's refreshing to hear a man who knows precisely where he stands。 Even if I don't share his perch。〃
 The leaves of the trees alongside the road had the deep green hues of late summer。 Cattle and horses grazing; an occasional female rider on a groomed horse in the manicured meadows; glimpses of huge two… or three…story mansions set back well away from the public road at the end of long drives; this countryside was fat。 The contrast between this rich and verdant world of moneyed indolence and the baked; potholed streets of Washington jarred Jake Grafton。 He could feel his confidence in his assessment of the situation ebbing away as the car took them farther and farther from the Pentagon and the navy。
 Five miles north of Middleburg he began to watch the left side of the road。 He found the tree and mailbox he had heard about。 The box merely had a number; no name。 He turned into the hard…packed gravel drive and drove along it。 Huge old trees lined the north side of the road; a row that ended in a small grove around a large brick house almost covered with ivy。
 Jake Grafton parked right in front。
 〃Ring the bell;〃 he muttered at Toad; who gave several tugs on a pull。 The sound of chimes or something was just audible through the door。
 Tarkington's eyes darted around。
 The door opened。
 〃Did you get lost?〃 Royce Caplinger asked; and stood aside to let the two men enter。
 〃Little longer drive than I figured; Mr。 Secretary。〃
 Toad gaped。
 〃Close your mouth; son。 People'll think you're a politician;〃 Caplinger muttered and led the way down the hall。 They passed through a dining room furnished with massive antique tables and chairs and accented with pewter tankards and plates; and on through a kitchen with brick walls and a huge fireplace with an iron kettle hanging in it。 A refrigerator; sink; and conventional stove sat against the far wall; on the other side of a work island。
 〃Nice place you have here;〃 Jake Grafton said。
 〃Rustic as hell。 I like it。 Makes me feel like Thomas Jefferson。〃
 〃He's real dead;〃 Toad said。
 〃Yeah。 Sometimes I feel that way too; out here without the traffic and airplane noise and five million people all scurrying。。。〃 They were in the study now; a corner room with high windows and ceilings。 The walls were covered with books。 Newspapers scattered on the carpet; some kind of a red…and…blue Oriental thing。
 Caplinger waved his hand toward chairs and sank into a large stuffed chair with visibly cracked leather。
 He stared at them。 Toad avoided his gaze and looked at the books and the bric…a…brac tucked between them。 By Toad's chair was a pipe stand。 In it was a corncob pipe; blackened from many fires。
 〃I wasn't sure; but I thought it might be you; Captain;〃 Caplinger said。 〃Didn't recognize your voice on the phone this morning。〃
 Jake Grafton rubbed his face with his hands and crossed his legs。
 〃We were just driving through the neighborhood; Royce;〃 Toad said; 〃and thought we'd drop by and ask why you turned traitor and gave all those secrets to the Russians。 Why did you?〃
 Jake caught Toad's eye。 He moved his head ever…so…slightly from side to side。
 Jake addressed Caplinger。 〃Mr。 Secretary; we have a problem。 We know you're the Minotaur and we have some ideas; probably erroneous; about the events of the last few months。 Four or five people have died violently。 Mr。 Tarkington's wife; Rita Moravia; is a navy test pilot who was seriously injured; almost killed; because various law enforcement agencies failed to properly investigate and make arrests on information they had had for some time。 To make a long story short; we came here to ask if you would like to discuss this matter with us before we go to the authorities and the press。 Do you?〃
 〃Are you going to the press?〃
 〃That depends。〃
 〃You notice I didn't ask about the authorities。 That doesn't worry me; but for reasons…well。〃
 Caplinger slapped his knees and stood suddenly。 Toad started。 〃Relax; son。 I only eat lieutenants at the office。 e on; let's make some coffee。〃 He led the way into the kitchen。
 He filled a pot with water。 The pot went on the stove; after he lit the gas jet with a match。 He put a paper filter in a drip pot and ladled three spoonfuls of coffee in。 〃You two are entitled to an explanation。 Not legally; but morally。 I'm sorry about your wife; Lieutenant。 So was Luis Camacho。 We had too much at stake to move prematurely。〃 He shrugged。 〃Life is plicated。〃
 Caplinger pulled a stool from under the counter and perched on it。
 〃Three years ago; no; four; a KGB colonel defected to the United States。 It wasn't in the papers; so I won't tell you his name。 He thought he was brimming with useful information that we would be delighted to have in return for a ton of money and a new life in the West。 The money he got and the new identity he got。 But the information wasn't worth much。 He did; however; have one piece of information that he didn't think much of but we found most interesting。〃
 Caplinger checked the water on the stove。
 〃It seems that one day about three years before he defected he paid a visit to the Aquarium; the Moscow headquarters of the GRU; which is Soviet military i

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