chiaasen.stormyweather-第37章

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　It　was　too　good　to　be　true！　Thank　you；　mighty　Change！　Avila　was　awestruck　and　humbled。
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃That　Snapper　calls　all　the　time；　ever　since　he　got　out　of　Sumter。　She's　put　her　meathooks　in　that　boy。　By　the　way；　her　tattoo…it's　not　a　balloon；　it's　a　lollipop。〃　Jasmine　laughed。　〃But　you　were　on　the　money　about　which　tit。〃
　
　〃So　where's　Snapper？〃
　
　〃Sugar；　how　should　I　know？　He's　Daphne's　trick。〃
　
　〃You　mean　Bridget。〃
　
　Jasmine　bowed。　〃Touche；〃　she　said；　good…naturedly。
　
　Avila　produced　another　hundred…dollar　bill。　He　put　it　flat　on　the　bar；　beneath　the　Perrier　bottle。　〃Is　he　at　a　motel？〃　he　asked。
　
　〃A　house；　I　think。〃
　
　〃Where？〃
　
　〃I　gotta　ask　her；〃　Jasmine　said。
　
　〃You　need　a　quarter　for　the　phone？〃
　
　〃She's　working　tonight。　Give　me　your　number。〃
　
　Avila　wrote　it　in　the　margin　of　the　damp　C…note。　Jasmine　put　it　in　her　purse。
　
　〃I'm　hungry；〃　she　said。
　
　〃I'm　not。〃
　
　〃What's　the　matter？〃　She　gave　his　knee　a　squeeze。　〃Oh；　I　know。　I　know　why　you're　pissed。〃
　
　〃You　don't　know　a　damn　thing。〃
　
　〃Yes　I　do。　You're　mad　'cause　of　what　I　said　about　the　way　you　are　in　bed。〃
　
　Avila　shot　to　his　feet　and　called　for　the　check。　Jasmine　tugged　him　back　to　the　barstool。　Pressing　her　chest　against　his　arm；　she　whispered；　〃Hey；　it's　all　right。　I　thought　it　was　cute。〃
　
　〃I　don't　squeak；〃　Avila　said　coldly。
　
　〃You're　right；〃　said　Jasmine。　〃You're　absolutely　right。　e　on；　honey；　couldn't　you　go　for　a　steak？〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　and　Snapper　had　gotten　into　a　nasty　argument　over　the　call　girl。　Edie　had　said　it　was　no　time　for　screwing…they　needed　to　practice　their　husband…and…wife　routine　for　when　Fred　Dove's　boss　showed　up。　Snapper　had　told　her　to　lighten　up　or　shut　her　trap。　Watching　the　panel　of　saucy　prostitutes　on　Oprah　had　made　him　think　about　licking　the　former　Daphne's　lollipop。
　
　She　was　delighted　to　hear　from　him；　the　escort　service　business　being　slow　as　molasses　after　the　hurricane。　She　caught　a　taxi　to　the　Torres　house；　but　got　there　late　because　the　driver　got　lost　in　the　pitch　darkness　and　traffic　confusion。
　
　There　was　no　door　on　which　to　knock；　so　Bridget　strolled　in　unannounced。　Edie　Marsh　and　Snapper　were　glaring　at　each　other　by　candlelight　in　the　living　room。
　
　〃Hello　again；〃　Bridget　said　to　Edie；　who　nodded　testily。
　
　Bridget　scampered　to　the　BarcaLounger　and　sprawled　across　Snapper's　lap。　She　scissored　her　chubby　legs　in　the　air　and　smooched　his　neck　（the　disaligned　jaws　made　mouth…kissing　problematic）。
　
　Snapper　said；　〃You're　sittin'　on　my　gun。〃
　
　Bridget　wriggled　girlishly　as　he　extricated　the　pistol。　She　said；　〃Baby；　what　happened　to　your　leg？〃
　
　〃Ask　Little　Miss　Psychobitch。〃
　
　Bridget　stared　at　Edie　Marsh。　〃He　hit　me；〃　Edie　said；　remorselessly；　〃so　I　hit　him　back。〃
　
　〃With　a　fucking　crowbar。〃
　
　〃Ouch；〃　said　the　hooker。
　
　Snapper　told　Edie　to　go　walk　the　damn　dogs　for　a　couple　hours。
　
　Bridget　said；　〃You　got　dogs？　Where？〃　She　sat　up　excitedly。　〃I　love　dogs。〃
　
　〃Just　take　off　your　clothes；〃　Snapper　said。　〃Where's　the　Stoli？〃
　
　〃All　the　liquor　stores　were　boarded　up。〃
　
　〃Mother　of　Christ！〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　said；　〃Look；　Bridget；　nothing　personal　against　you。　But　we've　got　a　very　important　meeting　tomorrow　morning…〃
　
　〃Wait；　now；〃　Snapper　cut　in。　〃You're　sayin'　there's　no　vodka？　Did　I　hear　right？〃
　
　〃Baby；　the　storm；　remember？　Everything's　shut　down。〃
　
　〃Bullshit。　You　didn't　even　try。〃
　
　〃Chill　out；〃　said　Bridget。　〃We　don't　need　booze　for　a　party。〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　tried　once　more：　〃All　I'm　asking　is　that　you're　gone　in　the　morning；　OK？　There's　a　man　ing　to　the　house；　he　won't　understand。〃
　
　〃No　problem；　hon。〃
　
　〃Nothing　personal。〃
　
　Bridget　laughed。　〃It's　not　like　I　had　my　heart　set　on　staying　over　in　this　dump。〃
　
　Edie　said；　〃You　should　see　the　bathrooms。　There's　mosquitoes　this　big　hatching　in　the　toilets！〃
　
　Bridget　made　a　face　and　pressed　her　knees　together。　Snapper　said：　〃Edie；　I'm　countin'　to　ten。　Get　your　lazy　ass　in　gear。〃
　
　Donald　and　Maria　began　yipping　in　the　backyard。
　
　〃Are　those　your　puppies？〃　Bridget　sprang　from　Snapper's　lap　and　hurried　to　what　once　had　been　French　doors。　〃They　sound　adorable…what　kind？〃　She　peered　expectantly　into　the　night。
　
　Snapper　gimped　to　her　side。　〃Fertilizer　hounds；〃　he　said。
　
　〃Fertilizer　hounds？〃
　
　〃When　I　get　done　with　'em；　yeah。　That's　the　only　goddamn　thing　they'll　be　good　for。〃　He　raised　the　pistol　and　fired　twice　at　the　infernal　yowling。　Bridget　let　out　a　cry　and　covered　her　ears。　Edie　Marsh　came　up　from　behind　and　kicked　Snapper　in　the　crook　of　his　bum　right　leg。　He　went　down　with　a　surprised　grunt。
　
　Outside；　the　volume　of　doggy　racket　increased　by　many　decibels。　Donald　and　Maria　were　hysterical　with　fear。　Edie　Marsh　hurried　outside　to　untangle　the　leashes　before　they　garroted　each　other。　Bridget　knelt　at　Snapper's　side　and　scolded　him　for　being　such　a　meanie。
　
　The　way　Levon　Stichler　figured　it；　he　had　nothing　to　lose。　Tfhe　hurricane　had　taken　everything；　including　the　urn　containing　the　ashes　of　his　recently　departed　wife。　The　life　in　which　he　had　invested　most　of　his　military　pension　had　been　reduced　to　broken　glass　and　razor　tinsel。　Hours　of　painstaking　salvage　had　yielded　not　enough　dry　belongings　to　fill　a　tackle　box。　Levon　Stichler's　neighbors　at　the　trailer　court　were　in　the　same　abject　fix。　Within　twenty…four　hours；　his　shock　and　despair　had　distilled　into　high…octane　anger。　Someone　must　pay！　Levon　Stichler　thundered。　And　logically　that　someone　should　be　the　smirking　sonofabitch　who'd　sold　them　those　mobile　homes；　the　glib　fat　thief　who'd　promised　them　that　the　structures　were　government　certified　and　hurricane…proof。
　
　Levon　Stichler　had　spotted　Tony　Torres　at　the　trailer　court　on　the　morning　after　the　hurricane；　but　the　mangy　prick　had　fled　like　a　coyote。　Levon　Stichler　had　fumed　for　a　few　days；　gathering　what　valuables　he　could　find　among　the　trailer's　debris　until　county　workers　showed　up　to　bulldoze　the　remains。　The　old　man　considered　returning　to　Saint　Paul；　where　his　only　daughter　lived；　but　the　thought　of　long　frigid　winters…and　sharing　space　with　six　hyperactive　grandchildren…was　more　than　he　could　face。
　
　There　would　be　no　northward　migration。　Levon　Stichler　considered　his　life　to　be　officially　ruined；　and　considered　one　man　to　be　morally　responsible　for　the　tragedy。　He　would　know　no　peace　until　Tony　Torres　was　dead。　Killing　the　salesman　might　even　make　Levon　Stichler　a　hero；　at　least　in　the　eyes　of　his　trailer…court　neighbors…that's　what　the　old　man　convinced　himself；　He　envisioned　public　sympathy　and　national　headlines；　possibly　a　visit　from　Connie　Chung。　And　prison　wouldn't　be　such　an　awful　place；　a　damn　sight　safer　than　a　double…wide　trailer。　Haw！　Levon　Stichler　told　no　one　of　his　mission。　The　hurricane　hadn't　actually　driven　him　insane；　but　that's　what　he　intended　to　plead　at　the　trial。　The　Alzheimer's　defense　was　another　promising　option。　But　first　he　had　to　devise　a　convincingly　eccentric　murder。
　
　As　soon　as　he　settled　on　a　plan；　Levon　Stichler　called　PreFab　Luxury　Homes。　The　phone　rang　over　and　over；　causing　the　old　man　to　wonder　if　the　storm　had　put　the　trailer…home　pany　out　of　business。　In　fact；　PreFab　Luxury　was　enjoying　a　banner　week；　thanks　to　a　massive　requisition　from　the　Federal　Emergency　Management　Agency。　Uncle　Sam；　it　seemed；　was　generously　providing　trailers　to　homeless　storm　victims。　Many　of　the　miserably　displaced　souls　who'd　been　living　in　PreFab　Luxury　trailers　when　the　hurricane　wiped　them　out　would　be　living　in　a　PreFab　Luxury　product　once　again。　Neither　the　pany　nor　the　federal　government　thought　it　necessary　to　inform　tenants　of　the　irony。
　
　Eventually　a　receptionist　answered　the　telephone；　and　made　a　point　of　mentioning　how　busy　they　all　were。　Levon　Stichler　asked　to　speak　to　Mr。　Torres。　The　woman　said　that　Tony　apparently　was　taking　some　personal　leave　after　the　storm　and　that　nobody　knew　when　he'd　return　to　the　office。　Levon　Stichler　gathered　that　he　wasn't　the　first　dissatisfied　customer　to　make　inquiries。
　
　The　receptionist　politely　declined　to　divulge　the　salesman's　home　number。
　
　From　his　sodden　telephone　directory；　Levon　Stichler　carefully　removed　the　page　listing　the　names　and　addresses　of　all　the　Antonio　Torreses　in　Greater　Miami。　Then　he　got　in　the　car；　filled　up　the　tank　and　began　the　hunt。
　
　On　the　first　day；　Levon　Stichler　eliminated　from　the　list　three　auto　mechanics；　a　scuba　instructor；　a　thoracic　surgeon；　a　palmist；　two　lawyers　and　a　university　professor。　All　were　named　Antonio　Torres；　but　none　was　the　scoundrel　whom　Levon　Stichler　sought。　He　was　exhausted；　but　resolute。
　
　On　the　second　day；　Levon　Stichler　continued　to　winnow　the　roster　of　candidates：　a　stockbroker；　a　nurseryman；　a　shrimper；　a　police　officer；　two　electricians；　an　optometrist　and　a　greenskeeper。　Another　Tony　Torres；　unkempt　and　clearly　impaired；　tried　to　sell　him　a　bag　of　bootleg　Dilaudids；　still　another　threatened　to　decapitate　him　with　a　hoe。
　
　The　third　day　of　the　manhunt　brought　Levon　Stichler　to　the　Turtle　Meadow　subdivision　and　15600　Calusa　Drive。　By　then　he'd　seen　enough　hurricane　destruction　to　be　utterly　unmoved　by　the　sight　of　another　gutted；　roofless　home。　At　least　it　still　had　walls；　which　was　more　than　Levon　Stichler　could　say　for　his　own。
　
　A　pretty　Anglo　woman　met　him　at　the　open　front　doorway。　She　wore　baggy　jeans　and　a　long　lavender　T…shirt。　Levon　Stichler　noticed　she　was　barefoot　and　（unless　his　seventy…one…year…old　eyeballs　were　mistaken）　she　was　not　wearing　a　bra。　Her　toenails　were　the　shade　of　red　hibiscus。
　
　He　said；　〃Is　this　the　Torres　residence？〃
　
　The　woman　said　yes。
　
　〃Antonio　Torres？　The　salesman？〃
　
　〃That's　right。〃　The　woman　held　out　a　hand。　〃I'm　Mrs。　Torres。　e　on　in；　we've　been　expecting　you。〃
　
　Levon　Stichler　jerked　and　said；　〃What？〃
　
　He　followed　the　barefoot　braless　woman　into　the　house。　She　led　him　to　the　kitchen；　which　was　a　shambles。
　
　〃Where's　your　husband？〃
　
　〃In　the　bedroom。　Is　Mister　Dove　on　the　way？〃
　
　〃I　don't　know；〃　answered　Levon　Stichler；　thinking：　Who　the　hell　is　Mr。　Dove？
　
　〃Listen；　Mrs。　Torres…〃
　
　〃Please。　It's　Neria。〃　The　woman　excused　herself　to　tend　the　generator；　which　was　in　the　garage。　When　she　returned　to　the　kitchen；　she　turned　on　the　electric　coffeemaker　and　made　three　cups。
　
　Levon　Stichler　thanked　her；　stiffly；　and　took　a　sip。　The　wife　would　be　a　problem；　he　needed　to　have　Tony　Torres　alone。
　
　The　barefoot　woman　stirred　two　spoonfuls　of　sugar　into　her　coffee。　〃Is　this　your　first　stop　of　the　day？〃
　
　〃Sure　is；〃　said　Levon　Stichler；　hopelessly　puzzled。　Having　never　before　murdered　anybody；　he　was　full　of　the　jitters。　He　glanced　at　his　wristwatch　so　often　that　the　woman　couldn't　help　but　notice。
　
　She　said；　〃Tony's　in　the　shower。　He'll　be　out　very　soon。〃
　
　〃That's　OK。〃
　
　〃Is　the　coffee　all　right？　Sorry　there's　no　cream。〃
　
　Levon　Stichler　said；　〃It's　fine。〃
　
　She　seemed　like　a　nice　enough　person。　What　was　she　doing　with　a　crooked　slob　like　Torres？
　
　He　heard　muffled　noises　from　another　room；　two　voices：　a　man's