dk.watchers-第84部分

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s　or　his　grandmother　in　order　to　get　at　him。　Any　hit　man　who　did　such　a　thing　would　probably　wind　up　dead　himself；　wasted　by　the　very　people　who　had　hired　him。　Vince　hoped　to　convince　Frank　Dicenziano　that　Velazquez　was　a　special　case…no　other　target　had　ever　eluded　Vince　for　a　month…and　that　what　had　happened　in　Oakland　on　Christmas　Day　was　regrettable　but　unavoidable。
　Just　in　case　Dicenziano…and　by　extension；　the　don…was　too　furious　to　listen　to　reason；　Vince　went　prepared　with　more　than　a　gun。　He　knew　that；　if　they　wanted　him　dead；　they　would　crowd　him　and　take　the　gun　away　from　him　before　he　could　use　it；　as　soon　as　he　walked　into　the　restaurant　and　before　he　knew　the　score。　So　he　wired　himself　with　plastic　explosives　and　was　prepared　to　detonate　them；　wiping　out　the　entire　restaurant；　if　they　tried　to　fit　him　for　a　coffin。
　Vince　was　not　sure　if　he　would　survive　the　explosion。　He　had　absorbed　the　life　energies　of　so　many　people　recently　that　he　thought　he　must　be　getting　close　to　the　immortality　he　had　been　seeking…or　was　already　there…but　he　could　not　know　how　strong　he　was　until　he　put　himself　to　the　test。　If　his　choice　was　standing　at　the　heart　of　an　explosion　。　。　。　or　letting　a　couple　of　Wiseguys　pump　a　hundred　rounds　into　him　and　encase　him　in　concrete　for　a　dunk　in　the　bay　。　。　。　he　decided　the　former　was　more　appealing　and；　perhaps；　offered　him　a　marginally　better　chance　of　survival。
　To　his　surprise；　Dicenziano…who　resembled　a　squirrel　with　meatballs　in　his　cheeks…was　delighted　with　how　the　Velazquez　contract　had　been　fulfilled。　He　said　the　don　had　the　highest　praise　for　Vince。　No　one　searched　Vince　when　he　entered　the　restaurant。　At　a　corner　booth；　as　the　first　men　in　the　room；　he　and　Frank　were　served　a　special　lunch　of　dishes　not　on　the　menu。　They　drank　three…hundred…dollar　Cabernet　Sauvignon；　a　gift　from　Mario　Tetragna。
　When　Vince　cautiously　raised　the　issue　of　the　dead　wife　and　grandmother；　Dicenziano　said；　〃Listen；　my　friend；　we　knew　this　was　going　to　be　a　hard　hit；　a　demanding　job；　and　that　rules　might　have　to　be　broken。　Besides；　these　people　were　not　our　kind　of　people。　They　were　just　a　bunch　of　wetback　spics。　They　don't　belong　in　this　business。　If　they　try　to　force　their　way　into　it；　they　can't　expect　us　to　play　by　the　rules。〃
　Relieved；　Vince　went　to　the　men's　room　halfway　through　lunch　and　disconnected　the　detonator。　He　didn't　want　to　set　the　Plastique　off　accidentally　now　that　the　crisis　was　past。
　At　the　end　of　lunch；　Frank　gave　Vince　the　list。　Nine　names。　〃These　people…　who　are　not　all　Family　people；　by　the　way…pay　the　don　for　the　right　to　operate　their　ID　businesses　in　his　territory。　Back　in　November；　in　anticipation　of　your　success　with　Velazquez；　I　spoke　to　these　nine；　and　they'll　remember　that　the　don　wants　them　to　cooperate　with　you　in　any　way　they　can。〃
　Vince　set　out　the　same　afternoon；　looking　for　someone　who　would　remember　Travis　Cornell。
　Initially；　he　was　frustrated。　Two　of　the　first　four　people　on　the　list　could　not　be　reached。　They　had　closed　up　shop　and　gone　away　for　the　holidays。　To　Vince；　it　seemed　wrong　that　the　criminal　underworld　would　take　off　for　Christmas　and　New　Year's　as　if　they　were　schoolteachers。
　But　the　fifth　man；　Anson　Van　Dyne；　was　at　work　in　the　basement　beneath　his　topless　club；　Hot　Tips；　and　at　five…thirty；　December　26；　Vince　found　what　he　was　after。　Van　Dyne　looked　at　the　photograph　of　Travis　Cornell；　which　Vince　had　obtained　from　the　back…issue　files　of　the　Santa　Barbara　newspaper。　〃Yeah；　I　remember　him。　He's　not　one　you　forget。　Not　a　foreigner　looking　to　bee　an　instant　American　like　half　my　customers。　And　not　the　usual　sad…assed　loser　who　needs　to　change　his　name　and　hide　his　face。　He's　not　a　big　guy；　and　he　doesn't　e　on　tough　or　anything；　but　you　get　the　feeling　he　could　mop　up　the　floor　with　anyone　who　crossed　him。　Very　self…contained。　Very　watchful。　I　couldn't　forget　him。〃
　〃What　you　couldn't　forget；〃　said　one　of　the　two　bearded　boy　wonders　at　the　puters；　〃is　that　gorgeous　quiff　he　was　with。〃
　〃For　her；　even　a　dead　man　could　get　it　up；〃　the　other　one　said。
　The　first　said；　〃Yeah；　even　a　dead　man。　Cake　and　pie。〃
　Vince　was　both　offended　and　confused　by　their　contributions　to　the　conversation；　so　he　ignored　them。　To　Van　Dyne；　he　said；　〃Is　there　any　chance　you'd　remember　the　new　names　you　gave　them？〃
　〃Sure。　We　got　it　on　file；〃　Van　Dyne　said。
　Vince　could　not　believe　what　he　had　heard。　〃I　thought　people　in　your　line
　of　work　didn't　keep　records？　Safer　for　you　and　essential　for　your　clients。〃
　Van　Dyne　shrugged。　〃Fuck　the　clients。　Maybe　one　day　the　feds　or　the　locals　hit　us；　put　us　out　of　business。　Maybe　I　find　myself　needing　a　steady　flow　of　cash　for　lawyers'　fees。　What　better　than　to　have　a　list　of　a　couple　of　thousand　bozos　living　under　phony　names；　bozos　who'd　be　willing　to　be　squeezed　a　little　rather　than　have　to　start　all　over　again　with　new　lives。〃
　〃Blackmail；〃　Vince　said。
　〃An　ugly　word；〃　Van　Dyne　said。　〃But　apt；　I'm　afraid。　Anyway；　all　we　care　about　is　that　we　are　safe；　that　there　aren't　any　records　here　to　incriminate　us。　We　don't　keep　the　data　in　this　dump。　Soon　as　we　provide　someone　with　a　new　ID；　we　transmit　the　record　of　it　over　a　safe　phone　line　from　the　puter　here　to　a　puter　we　keep　elsewhere。　The　way　that　puter　is　programmed；　the　data　can't　be　pulled　out　of　it　from　here；　it's　a　one…way　road；　so　if　we　are　busted；　the　police　hackers　can't　reach　our　records　from　these　machines。　Hell；　they　won't　even　know　the　records　exist。〃
　This　new　high…tech　criminal　world　made　Vince　woozy。　Even　the　don；　a　man　of　infinite　criminal　cleverness；　had　thought　these　people　kept　no　records　and　had　not　realized　how　puters　had　made　it　safe　to　do　so。　Vince　thought　about　what　Van　Dyne　had　told　him；　getting　it　all　sorted　out　in　his　mind。　He　said；　〃So　can　you　take　me　to　this　other　puter　and　look　up　Cornell's　new
　ID？〃
　〃For　a　friend　of　Don　Tetragna's；〃　Van　Dyne　said；　〃I'll　do　just　about　anything　but　slit　my　own　throat。　e　with　me。〃
　　
　　
　Van　Dyne　drove　Vince　to　a　busy　Chinese　restaurant　in　Chinatown。　The　place　must　have　seated　a　hundred　and　fifty；　and　every　table　was　occupied；　mostly　by　Anglos　rather　than　Asians。　Although　the　joint　was　enormous　and　was　decorated　with　paper　lanterns；　dragon　murals；　imitation　rosewood　screens；　and　strings　of　brass　wind　chimes　in　the　shapes　of　Chinese　ideograms；　it　reminded　Vince　of　the　kitschy　Italian　trattoria　in　which　he　had　murdered　the　cockroach　Pantangela　and　the　two　federal　marshals　last　August。　All　ethnic　art　and　decor…from　Chinese　to　Italian　to　Polish　to　Irish…were；　when　boiled　down　to　their　essence；　perfectly　alike。
　The　owner　was　a　Chinese　man　in　his　thirties；　who　was　introduced　to　Vince　simply　as　Yuan。　With　bottles　of　Tsingtao　provided　by　Yuan；　Van　Dyne　and　Vince　went　into　the　owner's　basement　office；　where　two　puters　stood　on　two　desks；　one　out　in　the　main　work　area　and　the　other　shoved　into　a　corner。　The　one　in　the　corner　was　switched　on；　though　nobody　was　working　at　it。
　〃This　is　my　puter；〃　Van　Dyne　said。　〃No　one　here　ever　works　with　it。　They　never　even　touch　it；　except　to　open　the　phone　line　to　put　the　modem　in　operation　every　morning　and　to　close　it　at　night。　My　puters　at　Hot　Tips　are　linked　to　this　one。〃
　〃You　trust　Yuan？〃
　〃I　got　him　the　loan　that　started　this　business。　He　owes　me　his　good　fortune。
　And　it's　pretty　much　a　clean　loan；　nothing　that　can　be　linked　to　me　in　any　way；　or　to　Don　Tetragna；　so　Yuan　remains　an　upstanding　citizen　who's　of　no　interest　to　the　cops。　All　he　does　for　me　in　return　is　let　me　keep　the　puter　here。〃
　Sitting　in　front　of　the　terminal；　Van　Dyne　began　to　use　the　keyboard。　In　two　minutes　he　had　Travis　Cornell's　new　name：　Samuel　Spencer　Hyatt。
　〃And　here；〃　Van　Dyne　said　as　new　data　flickered　up。　〃This　is　the　woman　who　was　with　him。　Her　real　name　was　Nora　Louise　Devon　of　Santa　Barbara。　Now；　she's　Nora　Jean　Aimes。〃
　〃Okay；〃　Vince　said。　〃Now　wipe　them　off　your　records。〃
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　〃Erase　them。　Take　them　out　of　the　puter。　They're　not　yours　any　more。　They're　mine。　Nobody　else's。　Just　mine。〃
　　
　　
　A　short　while　later；　they　were　back　at　Hot　Tips；　which　was　a　decadent　place　that　revolted　Vince。
　In　the　basement；　Van　Dyne　gave　the　names　Hyatt　and　Aimes　to　the　bearded　boy　wonders　who　seemed　to　live　down　there　around　the　clock；　like　a　couple　of　trolls。
　First；　the　trolls　broke　into　the　Department　of　Motor　Vehicle　puters。　They　wanted　to　see　whether；　in　the　three　months　since　acquiring　new　identities；　Hyatt　and　Aimes　had　settled　down　somewhere　and　filed　a　change　of　address　with　the　state。
　〃Bingo；〃　one　of　them　said。
　An　address　appeared　on　the　screen；　and　the　bearded　operator　ordered　a　printout。
　Anson　Van　Dyne　tore　the　paper　off　the　printer　and　handed　it　to　Vince。　Travis　Cornell　and　Nora　Devon…now　Hyatt　and　Aimes…were　living　at　a　rural　address　on　Pacific　Coast　Highway　south　of　the　town　of　Carmel。
　　　
　5
　On　Wednesday；　December　29；　Nora　drove　into　Carmel　alone　for　an　appointment　with　Dr。　Weingold。
　The　sky　was　overcast；　so　dark　that　the　white　seagulls；　swooping　against　the　backdrop　of　clouds；　were　by　contrast　almost　as　bright　as　incandescent　lights。　The　weather　had　been　much　the　same　since　the　day　after　Christmas；　but　the　promised　rain　never　came。
　Today；　however；　it　came　in　torrents　just　as　she　pulled　the　pickup　into　one　of　the　spaces　in　the　small　parking　lot　behind　Dr。　Weingold's　office。　She　was　wearing　a　nylon　jacket　with　a　hood；　just　in　case；　and　she　pulled　the　hood
　over　her　head　before　dashing　from　the　truck　into　the　one…story　brick　building。　Dr。　Weingold　gave　her　the　usual　thorough　examination　and　pronounced
　her　fit　as　a　fiddle；　which　would　have　amused　Einstein。
　〃I've　never　seen　a　woman　at　the　three…month　mark　in　better　shape；〃　the　doctor　said。
　〃I　want　this　to　be　a　very　healthy　baby；　a　perfect　baby。〃
　〃And　so　it　shall　be。〃
　The　doctor　believed　that　her　name　was　Aimes　and　her　husband's　name　was　Hyatt；　but　he　never　once　indicated　disapproval　of　her　marital　status。　The　situation　embarrassed　Nora；　but　she　supposed　that　the　modern　world；　into　which　she　had　fluttered　from　the　cocoon　of　the　Devon　house；　was　liberal…minded　about　these　things。
　Dr。　Weingold　suggested；　as　he　had　done　before；　that　she　consider　a　t