ericlustbader.the ninja-第56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！


　Croaker　looked　at　him　for　a　moment。　Beyond；　he　could　hear　the　surf　hissing　as　it　sucked　at　the　beachfront。　The　sounds　of　laughter　were　bright　and　brittle　as　if　they　were　made　to　be　broken。
　'What　if；'　Croaker　said　slowly；　'that　message　wasn't　meant　for　Justine。'
　Nicholas　stared　at　Croaker。
　'What　do　you　mean？'
　'I　think　it's　time　we　faced　the　facts。　I　think　that　warning　was　meant　for　you。'
　Nicholas　gave　a　short；　sharp　laugh。　For　me？　Oh；　don't　be　idiotic。　There's　no　reason　…'
　'There　must　be；'　Croaker　said　earnestly。　'Look　at　the　pattern。　The　two　deaths　out　here。　Terry　and　Eileen。　Now　Vincent　in　the　city。　You're　the　central　point　to　all　the　deaths。'
　'I　didn't　know　the　second　man　out　here。'
　'No；　but　the　murder　happened　close　to　you。'
　'Lew；　they　happened　close　to　a　lot　of　people。'
　'But　only　to　one　who's　had　three　friends　murdered　subsequently。〃
　It　was　logical　of　course；　but；　Nicholas　knew；　logic　was　often　not　the　answer。
　He　shook　his　head。　'I　don't　think　I　can　buy　it。　As　I　said；　there's　no　reason。　'It's　a　smoke…screen。'
　'A　hell　of　a　smoke…screen！'　Croaker　snorted。
　'It　wouldn't　matter　to　him；　don't　you　see？　He　must　know　that　I'm　involved　through　Justine。　I'm　the　danger　to　him；　not　you；　or　Tomkin's　muscle。　He　knows　that。　No；　he's　after　Tom…kin；　plain　and　simple。　He's　just　trying　to　muddy　the　water。〃
　Croaker　held　up　a　hand。　'Okay；　okay。　It　was　just　a　theory。　But　I　gotta　tell　you；　I　hope　you're　right　because　I　cared　a　hell　of　a　lot　more　about　Vincent　Ito　than　I　do　about　Raphael　Tom…kin。'
　Nicholas　looked　at　him。　It　was　as　close　as　they　both　could　e　to　the　outward　recognition　of　their　friendship。　He　smiled。　〃Thanks。　That　means　a　lot　…　to　me。　I　know　it　would　to　Vincent；　too。'
　They　stood　up。　Croaker　had　kept　his　suit　jacket　on　despite　the…heat　of　the　day。　Now　he　was　sweating　profusely　and　he　shrugged　out　of　it。　His　thin　white　shirt　was　stained　with　sweat。　'　　'You　ready　to　go　back？'
　Nicholas　nodded。　'One　thing；　Lew。'　He　hesitated。
　'Shoot。'
　'You　may　not　want　to　tell　me。'
　〃Then　I　won't。　Okay？'
　Nicholas　smiled。　'Okay。'　They　began　to　walk　up　the　beach　towards　Croaker's　car。　'What　is　it　between　you　and　Tom…kin？'
　Croaker　opened　the　door；　slung　his　jacket　onto　the　back　seat。　He　got　in　behind　the　wheel。　He　had　parked　in　the　shade　but　the　interior　was　still　hot。　Nicholas　got　in　on　the　passenger's　side　and　Croaker　started　the　engine。
　'You're　right；'　he　said。　'I　might　not　want　to　tell　you。　And　a　few　days　ago；　I　wouldn't　have。'　He　made　a　broken　U…turn；　began　to　drive　up　Dune　Road　towards　the　bridge　across　the　canal。　'But　everything's　different　now　and　I　guess　I　figure　if　I　can't　trust　you；　there　ain't　nobody　to　trust；　and　I　can't　live　my　life　like　that。'
　They　rumbled　across　the　bridge；　heading　past　the　houses　and　the　small　bobbing　boats　with　their　stowed　outboard　motors；　towards　the　highway。
　'You　know　about　the　Didion　thing。'
　Nicholas　was　surprised。　'You　mean　the　murder　of　dial　model？　Sure；　but　only　what　was　spread　across　the　papers。　I　used　to　see　her　in　practically　every　magazine　I　picked　up。'
　'Yeah；'　Croaker　said　meditatively。　'Beautiful　lady。　Just　beautiful。　Like　they　invented　the　word　for　her。'
　'It　sounds　like　…'
　'Nah。　Not　what　you　think。'　They　swung　onto　the　highway　and　Croaker　picked　up　speed。　The　wind　was　still　hot　enough　to　keep　them　from　cooling　off。　'But　it　struck　me；　you　know；　that　this　girl's　a　person　just　like　everyone　else。　All　anyone　thinks　of　is　the　image；　you　know？　Her　face；　her　body　like　that；　the　facade。　No　one　would　stop　to　think　that　she　might　be　just　as　fucked　up　as　all　the　rest　of　us；　huh？　That　she　belched　after　a　good　meal；　dial　she　might　fart　once　in　a　while。　Human　things。'
　He　switched　lanes；　avoiding　a　blue　and　white　bus；　its　diesel　exhaust　asphyxiating。　He　jammed　his　horn　as　they　came　abreast；　then　they　were　shooting　away　westward。
　'Then　she　was　dead　and　everybody　was　making　a　stink。　She　was　a　celebrity　and　responsible　for　a　helluva　lot　of　bread；　not　to　mention　the　hold　she　had　on　a　multiple　million　fantasies。　But　nobody；　I　guarantee　you；　said：　There's　another　life　stupidly　wasted。　Well；　buddy；　dial's　what　I　thought　about　when　I　stood　there　in　the　middle　of　her　bedroom　and　looked　at　her　cool　body。　I　thought：　She's　a　human　being　and　I　want　to　know　who　did　this　to　her。'　He　shrugged。　'But；　hell；　I'd　do　the　same　for　any　two…bit　whore　who　got　knocked　over。　Done　it　mucho　times。　Doesn't　go　down　well　with　my　captain。　But；　shit；　I　never　cared　a　rat's　ass　about　that　fucker。　〃A　waste　of　the　taxpayer's　money；　Croaker；〃　he'd　say　to　me。　〃Find　something　more　valuable　to　do　with　your　time。〃　Jesus！'　He　hit　the　steering…wheel　with　his　fist。　'Can　you　beat　that？　Christ；　that　bastard's　always　got　one　finger　in　his　nose　and　the　other　up　his　ass！
　'Anyway；　this　case　turns　out　to　be　the　ballbuster　of　all　time。　I　mean；　there　isn't　one　goddamned　break。　All　I　get　is　mystery　and　for　that　I　can　go　to　the　movies。
　'From　what　I　。get　from　her　bedroom；　there　was　someone　else　there　that　night。　A　woman。　A　woman　who　had；　it　appeared；　been　intimate　with　Angela　Didion　and　who　might　conceivably　have　seen　the　murder　being　mitted。　Only　problem　is；　she's　disappeared　as　if　she'd　never　existed。
　'So　I'm　left　with　nada　and　the　papers　are　screaming　for　a　solution；　which　puts　the　missioner　to　screaming　at　Captain　Finnigan；　who　…　but　why　belabour　the　point；　right？　You　get　the　picture。'
　They　turned　off　before　the　multiple　exits　leading　to　Manhattan　and；　in　a　slow　curving　glide；　moved　onto　Queens　Boulevard。　The　westbound　traffic　was　only　moderate　and　they　made　good　time。
　'Two　or　three　uniforms　went　through　　the　building　doing　preliminary　checks　…　seeing　who　saw　what。　But　it　being　the　Actium　House；　they　were　told　to　step　softly　and　whisper　at　all　times。　The　result　they　e　back　with　is　nobody　knows　nothing。
　'Okay。　Fair　enough。　But　a　week　later；　with　everyone　scream…ing^for　blood　…　my　blood　…　I　decide　to　take　a　peek　myself。　To　give　you　the　Reader's　Digest　version　so　you　won't　fall　asleep　from　boredom　on　me；　it　turns　out　that　the　uniform　assigned　to　canvass　Angela　Didion's　floor　missed　one　tenant。　Turns　out　she　was　away　when　he　came　round　and　had　just　e　back。　A　little　careful　digging　turns　up　the　interesting　fact　that　she　left　the　morning　after　the　murder　…　early　…　…for　Palm　Springs。　She　stayed　for　seven　days　and　then　　　　returned。　She　was　an　older　woman。　In　her　late　fifties　but　looking　a　good　ten　years　older。　An　alcoholic。　I　interviewed　her　at　ten　in　the　morning　and　her　breath　stank　of　gin。　Her　hands　shook　and　she　couldn't　stop　herself　from　going　to　the　bottle　while　I　was　there。'
　He　turned　off　Queens　Boulevard　at　Yellowstone　Boulevard；　went　soudi。　They　were　in　Forest　Hills。
　'But　even　more　interesting　was　that　she　swore　she　saw　a　man　visit　Angela　Didion　…　the　same　man　…　over　the　past　six　months。　It　might　have　been　going　on　longer。　Six　months　is　when　she　became　aware　of　him。　Apparently　there　was　a　fight　there　one　night　and　from　then　on　she　kept　a　sharp　lookout　through　　her　door　peephole。　Nothing　better　to　do　with　her　time。'　He　pulled　up　in　front　of　a　medium…sized　one…storey　building
　with　a　white　brick　facade。　It　had　dark　green；　rather　ginger…bready　trim。　A　swinging　sign　on　the　lawn　at　the　front；　black　on　white；　read：　PARKSIDE　FUNERAL　HOME。　A　large　shade　elm　stood　on　the　other　side　of　the　lawn。　The　wooden　doors　stood　open。　As　they　sat　there；　several　people　walked　inside。　Nicholas　recognized　one　of　the　do　jo's　instructors。
　'She　gave　me　a　detailed　description　of　the　man；　Nick。　There's　no　doubt　he's　Raphael　Tomkin。'
　'So　Tomkin　was　having　an　affair　with　Angela　Didion。　It's　not　that　surprising；　two　high…powered　people　living　in　the　same　apartment　building。　Could　she　place　him　there　the　night　of　the　murder？'
　Croaker　looked　towards　the　elm。　It　rustled　slightly　in　a　warm　desultory　breeze。　'She's　afraid　of　flying；'　he　said　finally。　'She　took　a　chloral　hydrate　with　a　large　slug　of　gin　and　passed　out　at　6　p。m。　She　didn't　get　up　until　about　five　the　next　morning。'
　'When　she　left　for　Key　West。'
　'Yeah；　right。'　Croaker　turned　to　him。　'But　I　know　what　I　know。　I've　checked　and　rechecked　the　movements　of　all　her　known　intimates。　It　was　Tomkin；　all　right。'
　'You've　got　no　proof；　Lew；'　Nicholas　said。　'You've　got　nothing。'
　'Less　than　nothing；　buddy；'　Croaker　said　morosely。　He　got　out　of　the　car　and　Nicholas　followed　him　up　the　flagstone　path　to　the　funeral　home。
　Another　of　the　dojo's　instructors　stopped　Nicholas　on　the　steps；　said　several　words　to　him。　Nicholas　nodded。
　'Listen；'　Croaker　said；　pulling　Nicholas　close　to　him　and　lowering　his　voice；　'the　Didion　case　is　officially　closed。　Finis。　Kaput。　I　got　the　word　the　other　day　from　jellybelly　Finnigan。　This　came　right　from　the　top；　no　one　would　be　stupid　enough　to　grease　his　mick　palm。'
　'Are　you　saying　the　police　were　bought　off？〃
　'What　I'm　telling　you　is　that　if　I　had　any　lingering　doubts　as　to　Tomkin's　plicity　in　this；　they　went　bye…bye　with　that　order　to　shut　down。　Very　few　people　can　mand　that　kind　of　strict　hush。　He's　one　of　'em。'　His　voke　was　a　harsh　whisper　now；　sibilant；　ledial。　'But　now　I　got　a　lead。　One　of　my　contacts　came　through　with　a　make　on　the　other　woman　in　Angela
　Didion's　apartment　the　night　of　the　murder。　I'm　waiting　for　her　name　and　address。　When　they　e　dirough；　I'm　gonna　nail　that　sonovabitch's　hide　to　the　goddamned　wall。'
　The　service　was　brief　but　expressive；　half　in　English；　half　in　Japanese。　But　it　was；　basically；　an　American　ceremony；　which　they　had　both　　wanted。　Nicholas　had　been　asked　to　eulogize　both　Terry　and　Eileen　and　he　did　so。　He　spoke　in　Japanese。　There　was　music。　A　couple；　friends　of　Eileen's。　They　were　professionals　and　it　showed。　They　played　traditional　Japanese　music　on　f（oto　and　shauhachi。　And　there　were　the　traditional　flowers。
　Croaker　waited　until　they　had　walked　away　from　the　graveyard。　Behind　them；　the　workmen　were　beginning　to　fill　in　the　graves。　There　seemed　to　be　no　sound　as　the　brown　earth　filled　the　spaces。
　'Nick；'　he　said；　'what　do　the　names　Hideoshi；　Yodogimi　and　Mitsunari　mean　to　you？'
　^^Nicholas　stopped　and　turned　away　from　the　sun。　He　did　not　want　to　put　on　his　sun…glasses。　'They're　famous　names　out　of　Japanese　history。　Why？'
　Croaker　seemed　to　ignore　the　question。　'Could　they　be　people　who　are　alive　today？'
　Nicholas　shrugged。　'It's　possible；　I　suppose。　Sure。　They're　family　names。　But　those　threeare　linked　together　by　history。　The　chances　…'
　'I　see　what　you　mean。'
　Past'　them；　along　the　black　macadam　road；　a　car　door　slammed　and　a　motor　coughed　into　life；　the　sound　seeming　to　float　on　the　hot　air。　Plane　and　maple　trees　rustled　their　　　　　leaves　by　the　side　of　the　padi　they　were　on。　The　heat　was　mounting。
　'You'd　better　tell　me　what　this　is　all　about。'
　Croaker　reached　inside　his　coat　pocket。　He　handed　over　a　thin　folded　slip　of　what　looked　like　scratch　paper。　As　Nicholas　opened　it；　he　said；　'I　found　this　when　I　was　going　through　Terry's　effects　the　M。E。　gave　me。　It　was　in　his　pocket。　It　might　have　been　made　the　night　he　was　killed。'
　'So？'
　'So　there　was　a　man　…　a　Japanese　…　at　the　dojo　the　afternoon
　Terry　and　Ei　were　murdered。　Two　of　the　instructors　…　Karate　and　aikido　senseis　…
　'Sensei。'
　'All　right；　whatever。　They　said　this　man　w