js&cs.thebridge-第53章
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r…scooper dude。〃
Kirk recoiled; a little stung。
〃You want a real story?〃 the girl offered。 〃Check this out。〃
The kid held something up for Kirk to see; and he suddenly found himself eye…to…eye with the most reprehensible magazine cover he'd ever seen。 He lost a couple of seconds to utter shock。
And then; all at once; he began to laugh。
〃Wait a minute。〃 Staring; incredulous。 〃That's Werner Blake porking that baby!〃
〃Yep。〃 The punk nodded。 〃That's my dad。〃
And suddenly; Kirk heard the voice of his savior。
〃Did you say dad?〃
〃Duhhh 。。。 〃 the kid said; mocking him。
〃Wow。〃 Feeling his circuits click back into life。 The fire was in his veins; not his digestive system。 Back where it belonged。
〃Wow;〃 he reiterated: voice droll and knowing; in the lower register。 The kind of voice that assumes an immediate insider's grasp of the situation。 〃You two must be very close 。。。 〃
The kid and the girl simultaneously burst out laughing; as if he'd triggered some extremely inside joke。 That they weren't laughing with him; entirely; was not a major problem。 They could cop any attitude they wanted。 Kirk's mind had kicked into overdrive; and the grail was suddenly in his sights。
〃What would you say;〃 he asked; very carefully; 〃if I told you that I was gonna nail his fucking ass to the floorboards; over a chemical spill in Hellam Township?〃
〃What chemical spill?〃 they wanted to know; their interest suddenly piqued。
〃Tell you what;〃 he bargained。 〃You talk to me; I'll talk to you。 But it has to be right now; okay? Before they can cover it up pletely。〃
The punkoids gave it about fifteen seconds of serious contemplation…should we trust this geek or not?…before seizing on the moment。 Voting in favor of total destruction。
And telling him everything he needed to know。
Blake was home。 On the phone。 All day。 Blake was acting severely stressed。 Yes; it seemed that a coverup might well be in the works up at Casa Blake。 Beyond that; the inside scope on the day…to…day of Werner Blake was every bit as corrupt as Kirk could ever have dared to dream。
Chances like this came only once in a lifetime。
The Kirk that jumped back in his car five minutes later was like a man reborn。 His doubts were abolished。 His dick was hard。 And Jesus; like Laura; could kiss his rosy red ass。
Kirk Bogarde was back。
And his moment of truth was at hand。
Thirty…Nine
By two twenty…four Laura was on her second pack of Newport Lights and counting。 Her mouth felt like the inside of an ashtray; the rest of her just felt like shit。
She couldn't reach Kirk。 Kirk was inmunicado。 Kirk had fallen off the map; been swallowed by Black Bridge。 Kirk was fucking history the minute she next laid eyes upon him。
In the meantime that left Laura at the nerve center of an information…gathering apparatus that couldn't pin anything down; instead she was stuck in a basement with no windows and no real clue as to what was going on outside; playing a game of blind poker with a telephone and a set of scanners。
The phone rang again。
Laura groaned。 She'd been on the phone all afternoon; fielding calls from every wacko in the tri…county area or trying to get some real information。
Trying to get through; period。
Laura called Hellam Police。 No one answered。 She called Paradise City Police; but they knew very little about Hellam Township。 She tried the State Police; tried a dozen times to get through to the EPA and PEMA。
All for nada。
The phone rang again。 Laura took a deep breath; and picked it up。
〃WPAL NEWS 。。。 〃
〃Laura!〃 A deeply resonant voice came over the line。 〃What the hell's going on down there; babe?〃
Oh God; she recoiled。 〃Dougie;〃 she said。
Dougie Trumble was the lantern…jawed anchor from Channel 23; the local ABC affiliate。 He was a total pig; and Laura detested him。 She turned the tables in an eyeblink。 〃Damn; Dougie; I was hoping you could tell me 。。。 〃 she said; all innocent intent。
〃I; uh; heard there was a big spill; and 。。。 〃 he said; instantly retreating。 〃You mean; you don't know?〃
She was playing the same game。 Something for nothing。 Try to peek at the other player's cards。 Don't tip your hand。 Dougie was sniffing around; buddy…buddying and fishing for information; the public's need to know and yadda yadda yadda。
〃Sorry; Dougie; can't help you;〃 she said; blowing him off。
It was a tactical decision; Neither of the other networks carried the AFC games; and hence both had six o'clock broadcasts。 Either one could blow them out of the water。
But Dougie was forty…eight miles away; in Harrisburg; and while CBS kept a bureau office in town; it was closed on Sunday。 Neither one had anyone in the area; and Black Bridge was nothing if not extremely local。
If she could play this one close and tight; she still had a scoop。 The public's need to know didn't even enter into it。
This was business。
Laura hung up; cutting the game short。 She just wasn't in the mood。 She felt increasingly sealed away from a world that was getting stranger by the second。
And she was scared。
Because Roger and Toby are out there; aren't they? her conscience reminded her。 Roger took Toby to Philly to see his first football game; and you didn't go because of your stupid job; and you hugged Toby and didn't kiss Roger; and now they're there and you're here and you have a decision to make 。。。
〃Stop;〃 she told herself; massaging her temples。 She shuddered at the thought of her family out there somewhere; the lifelines that could be cut in an instant。 The familiar pastoral space between Paradise and Philly seemed suddenly alien; foreboding 。。。
〃Stop it。〃 This was stupid。 They were at a football game; for god's sake。 There was nothing she could do about it at the moment; there was no way on earth to page someone in a stadium packed with eighty thousand people。 The only thing left to do was to keep the lid on here。
And make up her mind。
To break or not to break 。。。
Not so simple; she realized。 She just didn't know enough yet。 And ugly words kept floating up in her mind; words like hysteria and mass panic。 Laura glanced at the phone; every line was lit up like a goddamned Christmas tree。 Crank calls multiplying with every passing minute。
And Laura was stuck; understaffed; uninformed; with little more than a very bad feeling to steer by。
〃Fuck this;〃 she muttered; checking her Rolodex for Tom Huntington's home number。 Laura knew that the station manager and news director were sometime drinking buddies; in that good ol' boy way that men exhibited whenever they shared power。
Laura added it all up: it was deep into the NFL season and the games were getting semicritical in determining who would go to the playoffs。 Tom and Chris were both Eagles fans。 Chris had just gotten a forty…inch Mitsubishi monitor in his family room。
If her instincts were on target she'd find them together; maybe kill two birds with one stone。 They could be apprised。 She would be covered。
Either way; her butt wasn't the only one that was going to swing in the breeze。
Laura reached for the phone; cradling the receiver in the crook of her neck as she punched one of the line buttons。
〃Hello!〃 said the caller: a male voice; anxious and strident。 〃Hello; dammit! Can anybody tell me 。。。 〃
Click。 Laura cut him off。 〃Sorry;〃 she said to dead air。 〃Nobody can tell you shit。〃
She dialed Tom's number; sat back; and waited。 Miraculously; the call went through the first time。 It glitched; buzzed; as it patched through; some kind of interference in the signal; groundwater in the underground cable or something。
The phone began to ring。
Laura sighed and felt the tiniest bit better。 The simple act of getting a line through was a small victory。
In the face of what was ing; that was practically the only kind left。
The call couldn't have e at a worse time; as far as Chris Crowley was concerned。 Week 10 of the season; with the Giants and the Eagles vying for first place in the AFC east。 The game was tied up 10…10 with six minutes left in the first half; Helen was out of t