scoonts.theminotaur-第95章
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〃Sure。〃 As Albright started the car; the mechanic raised the garage door and kicked the lifting blocks out of the way of the tires。
Albright backed out carefully and drove down the alley toward the area where customers' cars were parked。
Yep; another guy in a business suit hustling this way; and another going around the building toward the front entrance。 Albright turned left and drove by the agent walking toward the main showroom。 That agent looked at him with surprise。 As Albright paused at the street; he glanced in the rearview mirror。 The agent was talking on a hand…held radio and looking this way。
Albright fed gas and slipped the car into traffic。
They would be right behind him。 He jammed the accelerator down and shot across the next intersection just as the light turned red。
He went straight for three more blocks; then turned right for a block; then right again。
He entered the dealership lot from the back and coasted the car toward the service parking area; watching carefully for agents。 His trip around town had taken five minutes。 Yes; they all seemed to be gone。
He parked the car and walked back inside。
Joe Talley saw him ing。 〃Hey; Harlan; some guys were here looking for you。〃
〃'S'at right?〃
〃Yeah。 Didn't say; but they were cops。 Had those little radios and charged outta here like their tails were on fire。 Just a couple minutes ago。 Say; what've you done anyway? Robbed a bank?〃
〃Nah。〃 Albright quickly sorted through the rack of keys of cars that were awaiting service。 〃Forgot to put a quarter in the meter。〃 This one; a new Taurus。 In for its first oil change。
〃Sons of bitches came after me two years ago;〃 Talley said。 〃My ex swore out a warrant。〃
〃I sent her the fucking check last week;〃 Albright growled。 He walked back toward the parking area。 〃They e back; you tell 'em I went out to feed the meter;〃 he called。 〃See you after a while。〃
〃Yeah; sure; Harlan。〃 Talley laughed。
〃Do my time card too; will'ya; Joe?〃
〃You're covered。〃 Talley went back to annotating a service form。
Albright never returned to the dealership; of course。 Less than two hours later he abandoned the Taurus in a parking garage in downtown Washington and walked four blocks to a KGB safe house。
〃Just like that; cool as ice; he went back and traded cars?〃
〃Yessir。〃 Dreyfus tried to keep his eyes on Camacho's face。 It was difficult。
〃Two guys in two hours go through our fingers! What is this; Keystone Kops?〃 Camacho sighed heavily。 〃Well; what are we doing to round up these public enemies?〃
〃Warrants for them both。 Murder One for Judy and Accessory Before the Fact for Albright。 Stakeouts。 Briefings for the D。C。; federal; airport and suburban police…every pistol…packer within fifty miles of the Washington Monument。 Photos on the eleven o'clock news and in tomorrow's papers。 The cover story is drug。〃
〃We really needed Albright; Lloyd。〃
〃I know; sir。〃 Dreyfus was stunned。 Luis Camacho had never before called him by his first name in the five years they had known each other。
Camacho sat rubbing his forehead with the first two fingers of his left hand。
〃Drugs in the Pentagon is going to get a lot of press;〃 Dreyfus volunteered。 〃Already Ted Koppel wants the Director for Nightline。 Some nitwit on the Hill is promising a congressional investigation。 Everybody on the west side of the Potomac is probably going to have to pee in a bottle on Monday morning。〃
If Camacho heard; he gave no sign。 After a moment he said softly; 〃We'll never get him unless he es to us。〃
27
A Saturday in August is a terrible time to be in Washington。 The heat and humidity make any trip outdoors an endurance trek。 The summer haze diffuses the sunlight; but doesn't soften it。 Perspiration oozes from every square inch of hide and clothes bee sodden rags。
By eleven o'clock Saturday morning。 Smoke Judy felt as if he had lived on the street for six months。 He had managed only two hours' sleep the night before; most of it in fifteen…minute spurts。 The alley he now called home housed three other derelicts; all of whom were atose drunk by 9 P。M。 They had no trouble at all sleeping。
At 7 A。M。; or thereabouts…Judy had stowed his watch in his gym bag…his panions stirred themselves and collected their traps。 He followed them as they staggered the five blocks to a mission。 Two of them vomited along the way。 The little neon sign over the door proclaimed: 〃Jesus Saves。〃
Breakfast was scrambled eggs; toast and black coffee。 Judy carefully observed the men and four women; maybe five…he wasn't sure about one…who ate listlessly or not at all。 The alcoholics in the final stages of their disease drank coffee but didn't touch the food。 Almost everyone smoked cigarettes。 A man across from him offered him an unfiltered Pall Mall; which Smoke Judy accepted。 He hadn't smoked a cigarette since he was twenty…four; but when in Rome。。。
〃I see you been to the barber college;〃 his benefactor said as he blew out his match。
〃Yeah。〃
〃Go there myself from time to time。〃
Judy concentrated on smoking the cigarette until the man beside him lost interest in conversation。 Behind the screen of rising smoke he studied the people around him。 He was apparently the only one who showed any interest in his panions。 Most of them sat with vacant eyes; or stared at their plates; or the wall; or the smoke rising from their cigarettes。
By eight o'clock he was back on the street。 The humidity was bad and the heat was building。 Already the concrete sidewalks had bee griddles。 His panions wandered off in twos and threes; looking for shady spots to snooze; spots near areas of heavy pedestrian traffic that later in the day could be mined by panhandling for enough money to purchase the daily bottle。
Deciding the street was too dangerous for a man with only a day's growth of beard; Judy ambled back toward the alley where he had spent the night。 He concentrated on the derelict's shuffle; the head…down; stoop…shouldered; eyes…averted gait that characterized so many of the defeated wanderers…
His eye caught a headline in a newspaper rack。 The photo…that was him! He walked along; wondering。 Up ahead was a trash bin with a paper sticking out。 He snagged it and took it back to the alley。
Drugs。 Cocaine trafficking。 The photo of him in uniform was that service…record shot he had submitted last year。 The picture of Harlan Albright was a candid street shot; almost as if he had been unaware of the camera。 Still; it was a good likeness。 With his back to the Dumpster; sitting on the asphalt; Smoke Judy read the stories carefully。 Vice Admiral Henry was dead; according to the Post; killed by a drug dealer resisting arrest。 Well; was the Post ever wrong?
When he finished the story he threw the paper in the Dumpster。
Now he lay in the heat; his head on his blanket roll; watching an old dog search for edible garbage。 A slight breeze wafted down the alley; but it wasn't much。 The place was a sauna。 After the dog left; the only creatures vigorously stirring were the flies。
Jesus; who would have believed things could go so wrong so fast? The feds must have been monitoring access to that file; and the instant he opened it; jumped in the car to drive over and arrest him。 From mander in the U。S。 Navy to hunted fugitive killer all in one fifteen…minute period…that had to be a new record for the fastest fall in the history of the navy。
As he thought about it; Smoke Judy did not agonize over the split…second decisions he had made or torture himself with whatifs。 He had spent his adult life in a discipline posed of split…second decisions; and he had long ago learned to live with them。 You made the best choice you could on the information you had and never wasted time later regretting the choice。 He didn't now。
Still; as he looked back; he couldn't really pinpoint any specific decision that he could say had been the perfect choice to make when he made it。 So here he was; lying in an alley ten blocks northeast of the White House。 Hell must be like this。 dirty and hot; all the sinners baking slowly; desperate for a beer。 God; a cold beer would taste so good!
The money。 After that phone call from Homer T。 Wiggins; he had felt it unsafe to