cwilleford.miamiblues-第36部分

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　　〃You　ever　been　to　Riviera　Beach；　Ellita？〃
　　〃Never。　I've　been　to　Palm　Beach；　but　not　to　Riviera。〃
　　〃Palm　Beach　is　right　across　the　inlet　from　Singer　Island；　and　Singer's　a　part　of　the　Riviera　Beach　municipality；　with　the　best　beach　in　Florida。　So；　if　you　went　as　far　as　the　northern　end　of　Palm　Beach；　you　were　looking　across　at　Singer。　I　grew　up　in　Riviera　Beach；　but　I　didn't　know　it　was　actually　called　Riviera　until　I　was　almost　twenty　years　old。　We　always　called　it　Rivera。　Rivera…that's　what　everybody　called　it。　Funny；　isn't　it？〃
　　〃I've　noticed　that　a　lot　of　Miamians　call　Miami　Mi…am…ah。　I　guess　it's　what　you　grow　up　with。〃
　　〃In　Riviera；　that's　how　we　can　tell　the　natives　from　the　tourists。　Most　of　us　still　say　Rivera。〃
　　When　they　got　to　the　7…Eleven；　Sanchez　asked　the　manager　to　fix　her　a　grape　Slurpee。　Hoke　and　Henderson　went　to　the　freezer。　Henderson　got　a　Bud；　and　Hoke　reached　deep　into　the　box　to　get　a　cold　Coors。　Each　paid　for　his　own　drink；　and　then　they　went　outside　to　drink　them。　A　few　blocks　away；　in　the　nascent　morning　light；　they　could　see　the　vultures　circling　above　the　county　courthouse　tower；　preparing　to　fly　to　the　city　dump　for　their　breakfast　feeding。
　　〃That　yellow　Nova；〃　Sanchez　said；　pointing　to　the　dusty　car　parked　by　the　Dempsey　Dumpster；　〃has　been　there　for　three　days。　I　remember　seeing　it。〃
　　〃Probably　the　manager's　car；〃　Henderson　said。　〃There's　no　one　else　around　here。〃
　　Sanchez　walked　down　to　the　car。　〃It's　got　Michigan　plates。〃
　　Henderson　cracked　open　the　glass　door　to　the　store。　The　manager　had　〃The　Star〃　open　on　the　counter　and　was　reading　it。　He　looked　up。　〃You　from　Michigan？〃　Henderson　said。
　　〃What？〃
　　〃Are　you　from　Michigan？〃
　　〃Michigan？〃　The　manager　shook　his　head。　〃Ponce。　In　Puerto　Rico。〃
　　〃That　your　car？　The　yellow　Nova？〃
　　The　Puerto　Rican　shook　his　head。　〃My　wife's　got　my　car。　She　drives　me　to　work；　and　picks　me　up。　That　car's　been　parked　there　for　three　days。〃
　　〃You　guys　better　e　down　here　a　minute！〃　Sanchez　raised　her　voice。　She　threw　her　waxed　cup；　still　half　full；　into　the　dumpster。　Hoke　and　Henderson　joined　her　at　the　back　of　the　Nova。　〃D'you　smell　anything　funny？〃
　　Henderson　bent　over　and　sniffed　at　the　trunk。　He　smiled　broadly　at　Hoke。　〃Take　a　sniff；　Hoke。　Be　my　guest。〃
　　Hoke　took　a　deep　sniff　at　the　trunk　lid；　where　it　joined　the　body。　The　odor　was　unmistakable；　it　was　the　familiar　odor　of　urine；　feces；　death。　Hoke　raised　his　head；　returning　Henderson's　knowing　metal…studded　smile　with　a　wry　grin。
　　〃You　two　stay　here；〃　Hoke　said。　〃I'll　walk　back　to　the　station　and　send　down　a　squad　car…〃
　　〃No　you　won't；〃　Henderson　said。　〃Go　home；　Hoke！　Just　get　in　your　car　and　go　home。　We'll　take　care　of　the　body。　You're　on　sick　leave　and　off　duty。　Remember？〃
　　〃He's　right；　Hoke；〃　Sanchez　said。　〃It'll　be　at　least　another　hour　before　we　can　run　a　make　and　get　a　warrant　to　open　the　trunk。　Go　on　home。　Please。〃
　　〃But　I'd　like　to　see…〃
　　〃Beat　it！〃　Henderson　said；　pushing　Hoke's　shoulder。
　　〃All　right。　But　call　me　tomorrow；　Sanchez。　There're　a　few　things…〃
　　〃I'll　call　you；〃　Sanchez　said。　〃But　right　now　you'd　better　get　going。〃
　　〃You　call　me；　too；　Bill。〃
　　〃I　will；　I　will。　Good…bye；　Hoke。〃
　　Hoke　returned　to　the　police　station　parking　lot　and　got　into　his　car。　As　he　drove　out　of　the　lot　he　could　see　Ellita　Sanchez　leaning　back　against　the　trunk　of　the　yellow　Nova。　Henderson　was　probably　still　in　the　store；　using　the　manager's　phone。
　　Hoke　drove　down　to　Biscayne　Boulevard　and　turned　north；　hugging　the　right　lane　so　he　could　make　the　cut…off　at　the　MacArthur　Causeway　for　Miami　Beach。　Feeling　slightly　guilty　about　leaving　Henderson　and　Sanchez　stuck　at　the　7…Eleven；　he　pulled　down　the　visor　against　the　morning　sun　rising　above　South　Beach　and　headed　for　the　Eldorado　Hotel；　where　Old　Man　Zuckerman　was　waiting　for　him　in　the　lobby　with　a　fresh；　neatly　folded　paper　napkin。







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