ch.doublewhammy-第24节

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　they　seen　him　on　TV？）；　but　took　some　satisfaction　when　other　patrons　booed　the　rough　manner　in　which　he　was　expelled。
　Afterward　he　had　a　few　more　drinks　and　went　looking　for　his　boss；　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb。　Drunk　was　the　only　condition　in　which　Dickie　Lockhart　could　have　made　this　decision；　as　a　rule　one　did　not　pop　in　on　Reverend　Weeb　unless　one　was　invited。
　Dickie　lurched　up　to　the　top…floor　suite　of　the　swank　hotel　on　Chartres　Street　and　pounded　on　the　door。　It　was　almost　midnight。
　〃Who　is　it？〃　a　female　voice　asked。
　〃DEA！〃　said　Dickie　Lockhart。　〃Open　the　fuck　up！〃
　The　door　opened　and　a　beautiful　long…haired　woman　stood　there；　at　least　she　seemed　beautiful　to　Dickie　Lockhart。　An　apparition；　really。　She　was　wearing　canvas　hip　waders　and　nothing　else。　Her　lovely　breasts　poked　out　in　a　friendly　way　from　under　the　suspenders。　For　a　moment　Dickie　almost　forgot　he　was　supposed　to　be　with　the　DEA。
　〃I　got　a　warrant　for　Charles　Weeb；〃　he　snarled。
　〃What's　with　the　fishing　pole？〃　the　naked　wader　asked。
　Dickie　Lockhart　had　been　carrying　a　nine…foot　boron　fly　rod　all　night　long。　He　couldn't　remember　why。　Somebody　in　a　bar　had　given　it　to　him；　another　damn　salesman；　probably。
　〃It's　not　a　fishing　rod；　so　shut　up！〃
　〃Yes；　it　is；〃　said　the　woman。
　〃It's　a　heroin　probe；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said。　〃Now　stand　back。〃　He　brushed　past　her　and　marched　into　the　living　room　of　the　suite；　but　the　reverend　was　not　there。　Dickie　headed　for　the　master　bedroom；　the　woman　clomping　after　him　in　the　heavy　waders。
　〃Have　you　got　a　warrant？〃　she　asked。
　Dickie　found　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb　lying　on　his　back　in　bed。　Another　young　woman　was　on　top　of　him；　bouncing　happily。　This　one　was　wearing　a　Saints　jersey；　number　12。
　From　behind　Dickie　Lockhart　the　bare…breasted　wader　announced：　〃Charlie；　there's　a　man　here　to　arrest　you。〃
　Weeb　looked　up　irritably；　fastened　his　angry　eyes　on　Dickie　Lockhart；　and　said：　〃Be　gone；　sinner！〃
　It　occurred　to　Dickie　that　maybe　it　wasn't　such　a　hot　idea　to　stop　by　unannounced。　He　went　back　to　the　living　room；　turned　on　the　television；　and　slumped　on　the　couch。　The　woman　in　the　waders　fixed　him　a　bourbon。　She　said　her　name　was　Ellen　O'Something　and　that　she　had　recently　been　promoted　to　executive　secretary　of　the　First　Pentecostal　Church　of　Exemptive　Redemption；　of　which　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb　was　founder　and　spiritual　masthead。　She　apologized　for　answering　the　door　half…naked；　said　the　waders　weren't　really　her　idea。　Dickie　Lockhart　said　he　understood；　thought　she　looked　darn　good　in　them。　He　told　her　to　watch　out　for　chafing；　though；　said　he　spoke　from　experience。
　〃Nice　fly　rod；〃　she　remarked。
　〃Not　for　bass；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said。　〃The　action's　too　fast　for　poppers。〃
　The　woman　nodded。　〃I　was　thinking　more　about　streamers；〃　she　said。　〃A　Muddler　Minnow；　for　instance。　Say　a　four　or　a　six。〃
　〃Sure；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said；　dumbstruck；　dizzy；　madly　in　love。　〃Sure；　with　the　boron　you　could　throw　a　size　four；　you　bet。　Do　you　fish？〃
　At　that　moment　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb　thundered　into　the　room　with　a　mauve　towel　wrapped　around　his　midsection。　The　apparition　excused　herself　and　clomped　off　to　a　bedroom。　Dickie　Lockhart's　heart　ached。　He　was　sure　he'd　never　see　her　again；　Charles　Weeb　would　make　sure　of　that。
　〃Son；　what　in　the　name　of　holy　fuck　is　the　matter　with　you？〃　the　clergyman　began。　〃What　demon　has　possessed　you；　what　poison　serpent；　what　diseased　fucking　germ　has　invaded　your　brain　and　robbed　you　of　all　mon　sense？　What　in　the　name　of　Our　Savior　Jesus　were　you　thinking　when　you　knocked　on　my　door　tonight？〃
　〃I'm　fairly　plastered；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said。
　〃Well；　so　you　are。　But　see　what　you've　done。　That　young　lady　in　there…〃
　〃The　quarterback？〃
　〃Hush！　That　young　lady　was　on　the　brink　of　a　profound　revelation　when　you　burst　in　and　interrupted　our　collective　concentration。　I　don't　appreciate　that；　Dickie；　and　neither　does　she。〃
　〃The　night's　young；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said。　〃You　can　try　again。〃
　The　Reverend　Weeb　glowered。　〃Why　did　you　e　here？〃
　Dickie　shrugged。　〃I　wanted　to　talk。〃
　〃About　what？〃　Weeb　hiked　up　the　towel　to　cover　the　pale　fatty　roll　of　shrimp…colored　belly。　〃What　was　so　all…fired　important　that　you　would　invade　my　personal　privacy　at　this　hour？〃
　〃The　show；〃　Dickie　said；　emboldened　by　Ellen's　bourbon。　〃I　just　don't　think　you　fully　appreciate　the　show。　I　think　you　take　me　for　granted；　Reverend　Weeb。〃
　〃Is　that　right？〃
　Dickie　Lockhart　stood　up。　It　wasn't　easy。　He　pointed　the　nine…foot　boron　fly　rod　directly　at　Reverend　Weeb's　midsection；　so　that　the　tip　tickled　the　gray　curly　hair。
　〃Catching　bass　is　not　easy；〃　Dickie　Lockhart　said；　his　own　anger　welling；　fueled　by　a　mental　image　of　his　beloved　Ellen　O'Something　bouncing　on　top　of　this　flabby　rich　pig。　〃Catching　bass　is　not　a　sure　thing。〃
　Weeb　said；　〃I　understand；　Dickie。〃　He　had　dealt　with　angry　drunks　before　and　knew　that　caution　was　the　best　strategy。　He　didn't　like　the　fishing　rod　poking　into　his　tummy；　but　realized　that　only　his　pride　was　in　danger。　〃Overall；　I　think　you　do　a　hell　of　a　job　with　Fish　Fever；　I　really　do。〃
　〃Then　why　do　you　treat　me　like　shit？〃
　〃Now；　I　pay　you　very　well；〃　Weeb　said。
　With　his　wrist　Dickie　Lockhart　started　whipping　the　rod　back　and　forth；　filling　the　room　with　sibilant　noise。　Weeb　had　a　hunch　it　would　hurt　like　hell　if　the　tip　thwacked　across　his　bare　flesh；　and　he　edged　back　a　step。
　〃I　heard；〃　said　Dickie　Lockhart；　〃that　you　been　talking　to　Ed　Spurling。〃
　〃Where　did　you　hear　that？〃　A　new　look　came　into　the　minister's　eyes；　a　look　of　nervousness。
　〃Some　boys　that　fish　with　Ed。　Said　Ed　told　'em　that　the　Outdoor　Christian　Network　wanted　to　buy　his　TV　show。〃
　Weeb　said；　〃Dickie；　that's　ridiculous。　We've　got　the　best　bass　show　in　all　America。　Yours。　We　don't　need　another。〃
　〃That's　what　I　said；　but　those　boys　that　fish　with　Ed　told　me　something　else。　They　said　Ed　was　bragging　that　you　promised　to　make　him　number　one　within　two　years。　Within　two　years；　they　said；　Fish　Fever　would　be　out　of　production。〃
　These　redneck　assholes；　Weeb　was　thinking；　what　a　grapevine　they　had。　It　was　too　bad　Ed　Spurling　couldn't　keep　his　damn　mouth　shut。
　〃Dickie；〃　Weeb　said；　〃somebody's　pulling　your　leg。　I　never　met　Spurling　in　my　life。　I　don't　blame　you　for　being　upset；　buddy；　but　I　swear　you've　got　nothing　to　worry　about。　Look；　of　all　the　pro　bass　anglers　in　the　world；　who　did　I　ask　to　do　the　promotion　footage　for　Lunker　Lakes？　Who？　You；　Dickie；　'cause　you're　the　best。　All　of　us　at　OCN　feel　the　same　way：　you're　our　number…one　man。〃
　Lockhart　lowered　the　fishing　rod。　His　eyes　were　muddy；　his　arms　like　lead。　If　he　didn't　pass　out　soon　he'd　need　another　bourbon。
　Soothingly　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb　said；　〃Don't　worry；　son；　none　of　what　you　heard　is　true。〃
　〃Sure　glad　to　hear　it；〃　Dickie　said；　〃because　there's　no　telling　what　would　happen　if　I　found　out　otherwise。　No　telling。　Remember　the　guy　from　the　zoning　board　down　in　Lauderdale；　the　one　you　told　me　to　take　fishing　that　time？　Man；　he　had　some　wild　stories　about　that　Lunker　Lagoon。〃
　〃Lunker　Lakes；〃　Weeb　said　tersely。
　〃He　says　he　got　himself　a　brand…new　swimming　pool；　thanks　to　you。　With　a　sauna　in　the　shallow　end！〃
　〃I　wouldn't　know。〃
　Dickie　broke　into　a　daffy　grin。　〃And　I'm　trying　to　imagine　what　your　faithful　flock　might　do　if　they　found　out　their　shepherd　was　double…boffing　a　couple　of　sweet　young　girls　from　the　church。　I'm　wondering　about　that；　Reverend　Weeb。〃
　〃I　get　the　point。〃
　〃Do　you　really？〃　Dickie　Lockhart　wielded　the　fly　rod　swordlike　and；　with　an　artful　flick；　popped　the　knot　on　Charlie　Weeb's　bath　towel；　which　dropped　to　his　ankles。
　〃Aw；　what　a　cute　little　thing；〃　Dickie　said　with　a　wink。　〃Cute　as　a　junebug。〃
　Weeb　flushed。　He　couldn't　believe　that　the　tables　had　turned　so　fast；　that　he　had　so　carelessly　misjudged　this　nasty　little　cracker　bastard。　〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　asked　Dickie　Lockhart。
　〃A　new　contract。　Five　years；　no　cancellation。　Plus　ten　percent　of　first…run　syndication　rights。　Don't　look　so　sad；　Reverend　Weeb。　I'll　make　it　easy　for　you：　you　don't　have　to　announce　it　until　after　I　win　the　tournament　this　week。　I'll　show　up　at　the　press　conference　with　the　trophy；　put　on　a　good　show。〃
　〃All　right；〃　Weeb　said；　cupping　his　hands　over　his　privates；　〃what　else？〃
　〃I　want　the　budget　doubled　to　two　thousand　per　show。〃
　〃Fifteen　hundred　tops。〃
　〃Fine；〃　Dickie　said；　〃I'm　not　a　greedy　man。〃
　〃Anything　more？〃　asked　Reverend　Weeb。
　〃Yeah；　go　get　Ellen　and　tell　her　I'm　giving　her　a　ride　home。〃
　
　Lake　Maurepas；　where　the　Cajun　Invitational　Bass　Classic　was　to　be　held；　was　a　bladder…shaped　miniature　of　the　immense　Lake　Pontchartrain。　Located　off　Interstate　55　northwest　of　New　Orleans；　the　marshy　and　bass…rich　Maurepas　was　connected　to　its　muddy　mother　at　Pass　Manchac；　a　few　miles　south　of　the　town　of　Hammond。　It　was　there　that　R。　J。　Decker　and　Skink　took　a　room　at　a　Quality　Court　motel。　At　the　Sportsman's　Hideout　Marina　they　rented　a　small　aluminum　johnboat　with　a　fifteen…horsepower　outboard；　and　told　the　lady　at　the　cash　register　they'd　be　going　out　at　dusk。　The　lady　looked　suspicious　until　Skink　introduced　himself　as　the　famous　explorer　Philippe　Cousteau；