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.""I don't mean restless like that.We've talked about moving on, but we neverdo.You get kind of hooked.Boats and water and working outside mostly.""But now he's packed his gear and moved on.""I can't believe he'd just go without a word.But maybe he would.Maybe hewould.He'd have pay coming.I don't know why he'd leave without picking uphis pay.Maybe he figures on sending for it.Or maybe he didn't leave.Maybehe moved into the cottage.""Want to check that out for me?""For myself too.Sure."As I walked slowly back to the office, alone, I could guess at what wouldconvince Jason Breen it was time to pack and leave.If he had been under theopen awning windows, crouched a couple of feet from the bed, he would haveheard a conversation about Cal's murder.A little bonus for the restlessvoyeur of the marina.A little lead time on the blue bike.I wondered if hehad sheathed his guitar in rain-proof plastic.I briefed Cindy and we waited for Oliver.He came back panting for breath,overheated."Not there," he said."Betty hasn't.gone to work yet.She said.she hasn't.seen Jason."After Oliver left Cindy said, "You don't suppose Jason.could havePage 84 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmllistened?""Could be.He'd know you were going to talk to Scorf.""But does a person.flee on a bicycle?""A person flees on what they have at hand, if they are anxious to flee.""It makes me feel.sort of rotten to think anybody could have beenlistening.""Ollie says Jason did a lot of prowling.""But he seemed so nice!""We like the people who like us.""I suppose.Rats.Phone call? Sure.Here's the book."I phoned the offices of Frederick Van Harn, Attorney-at-Law, in the KaufmanBuilding.A soft-voiced girl answered by speaking the number I had justdialed."May I speak to Mr.Van Harn, please?""Who is calling?""A certain Mr.McGee, my dear.""Is it a business call or a personal call?""Let's say business.""He won't be in the office today.""Out of town?""No, sir.He won't be in today.""Where can I get in touch with him?""You could phone here tomorrow, Mr.McGee.""What if I said personal instead, of business?""You already picked one, sir.""Is he out at the ranch? What's the number there, please?""Sorry, sir.That is an unlisted number.You can reach him here tomorrowmorning."I thanked her and hung up.I wondered vaguely if Freddy was stupid enough tobe making another run to Jamaica and decided he wasn't.I asked Cindy if shecould aim me toward the Van Harn ranch.She was blank on that, but she knewthe road to take to get to Jane Schermer country, out amongst the grapefruits,and Meyer had told me they were adjacent.I threw jacket and tie into the back seat of the bright little oven, openedall windows, and headed a little bit south and then turned west on CentralAvenue.At first it was a six-lane avenue fringed with motels, the Colonel'schicken, steak houses, gift shops, dress shops, savings and loans, and smalloffice buildings.After a few blocks of this, I was in used-car countryspeckled with tired old shopping centers and convenience stores.After a mileor so of that, the road became divided and I went through a long expanse ofdecaying residential.The pseudo-Moorish and old frame houses had once beenimpressive-and expensive.They were cut up into apartments and rooming houses.The yards were rank andlittered, and the palms in the medial strip looked sickly.The road became twolane, and I went through an area of huge new shopping centers and smalldreary-looking developments where, on the flat-lands, the developers hadpeeled off every tree and had big bonfires before putting in the boxy littlehouses.As these dwindled I saw For Sale signs on raw acreage, and at aboutnine miles from where I had made my turn, I came to the first ranchlands, withsome Brahman, some Black Angus, some Charolais.Windmills flapped near thewater holes.Salt blocks were set out in little open sheds.Where there weretrees, the cattle had eaten the bottoms of the boughs off in a straight line,so that at a distance it had something of the look of African landscape.There was more contour to the land on the right of the road, and more of thatwas used for geometric groves, laid out with a painful precision.I saw somespray trucks working in the groves, tall booms hissing white into the trees,agitating the leaves and the young fruit.Big trucks used the narrow road and used it fast.Their windy wake snapped atmy little rental.The landscape was beginning to turn a rich and gloriousgreen with the heavy rains.Kingfishers sat on high wires, lookingPage 85 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmloptimistically down into the drainage ditches [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.""I don't mean restless like that.We've talked about moving on, but we neverdo.You get kind of hooked.Boats and water and working outside mostly.""But now he's packed his gear and moved on.""I can't believe he'd just go without a word.But maybe he would.Maybe hewould.He'd have pay coming.I don't know why he'd leave without picking uphis pay.Maybe he figures on sending for it.Or maybe he didn't leave.Maybehe moved into the cottage.""Want to check that out for me?""For myself too.Sure."As I walked slowly back to the office, alone, I could guess at what wouldconvince Jason Breen it was time to pack and leave.If he had been under theopen awning windows, crouched a couple of feet from the bed, he would haveheard a conversation about Cal's murder.A little bonus for the restlessvoyeur of the marina.A little lead time on the blue bike.I wondered if hehad sheathed his guitar in rain-proof plastic.I briefed Cindy and we waited for Oliver.He came back panting for breath,overheated."Not there," he said."Betty hasn't.gone to work yet.She said.she hasn't.seen Jason."After Oliver left Cindy said, "You don't suppose Jason.could havePage 84 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmllistened?""Could be.He'd know you were going to talk to Scorf.""But does a person.flee on a bicycle?""A person flees on what they have at hand, if they are anxious to flee.""It makes me feel.sort of rotten to think anybody could have beenlistening.""Ollie says Jason did a lot of prowling.""But he seemed so nice!""We like the people who like us.""I suppose.Rats.Phone call? Sure.Here's the book."I phoned the offices of Frederick Van Harn, Attorney-at-Law, in the KaufmanBuilding.A soft-voiced girl answered by speaking the number I had justdialed."May I speak to Mr.Van Harn, please?""Who is calling?""A certain Mr.McGee, my dear.""Is it a business call or a personal call?""Let's say business.""He won't be in the office today.""Out of town?""No, sir.He won't be in today.""Where can I get in touch with him?""You could phone here tomorrow, Mr.McGee.""What if I said personal instead, of business?""You already picked one, sir.""Is he out at the ranch? What's the number there, please?""Sorry, sir.That is an unlisted number.You can reach him here tomorrowmorning."I thanked her and hung up.I wondered vaguely if Freddy was stupid enough tobe making another run to Jamaica and decided he wasn't.I asked Cindy if shecould aim me toward the Van Harn ranch.She was blank on that, but she knewthe road to take to get to Jane Schermer country, out amongst the grapefruits,and Meyer had told me they were adjacent.I threw jacket and tie into the back seat of the bright little oven, openedall windows, and headed a little bit south and then turned west on CentralAvenue.At first it was a six-lane avenue fringed with motels, the Colonel'schicken, steak houses, gift shops, dress shops, savings and loans, and smalloffice buildings.After a few blocks of this, I was in used-car countryspeckled with tired old shopping centers and convenience stores.After a mileor so of that, the road became divided and I went through a long expanse ofdecaying residential.The pseudo-Moorish and old frame houses had once beenimpressive-and expensive.They were cut up into apartments and rooming houses.The yards were rank andlittered, and the palms in the medial strip looked sickly.The road became twolane, and I went through an area of huge new shopping centers and smalldreary-looking developments where, on the flat-lands, the developers hadpeeled off every tree and had big bonfires before putting in the boxy littlehouses.As these dwindled I saw For Sale signs on raw acreage, and at aboutnine miles from where I had made my turn, I came to the first ranchlands, withsome Brahman, some Black Angus, some Charolais.Windmills flapped near thewater holes.Salt blocks were set out in little open sheds.Where there weretrees, the cattle had eaten the bottoms of the boughs off in a straight line,so that at a distance it had something of the look of African landscape.There was more contour to the land on the right of the road, and more of thatwas used for geometric groves, laid out with a painful precision.I saw somespray trucks working in the groves, tall booms hissing white into the trees,agitating the leaves and the young fruit.Big trucks used the narrow road and used it fast.Their windy wake snapped atmy little rental.The landscape was beginning to turn a rich and gloriousgreen with the heavy rains.Kingfishers sat on high wires, lookingPage 85 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmloptimistically down into the drainage ditches [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]