"01 - Malice In Maggody" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hess Joan)

Jim Bob made a noise in his throat. "Listen to this, Larry Joe. It says that the EPA office in Dallas has finally agreed to Starley City's application, and they're going to let them sign the construction contract with that firm up in Kansas City. They're sending a contract approval fellow up today to finalize the deal, and they're hoping to break ground real quick."

"Shit."

"You got it--or you're going to, right soon." Jim Bob paused to read in silence, his lips quivering over the longer words. "It talks about the public meetings and the petitions and protests we sent, but it says that the EPA office has evaluated the so-called community input and environmental impact reports and decided to approve the application anyways. In a year or so those chickenshits in Starley City will be dumping their suspended solids in Boone Creek. I'll have over a hundred acres of frontage on a sewage ditch, and that old catfish will belly up before I can catch him." Hobert took back the newspaper and tucked it under his arm. His face, somewhat mottled at best, turned a deeper red. "That's right on the button, Mr. Mayor. I got nearly that many acres myself, and I don't like shit any better than you. Now, exactly what do you aim to do about it?"

"I put in another call to Senator Fiff, but he's still on his fact-finding mission to Las Vegas. Be back Tuesday, according to some snippety secretary with the charm of a pig getting castrated. if he can't stop this, I don't think we have a grasshopper's chance in a hen house. Next time this year we'll be flycasting for turds."

Kevin came back into the store, followed by a slender man in a three-piece suit. The man handed Kevin a ten-нdollar bill, nodded to the three men watching him, and disappeared down one of the aisles. With a youthful thirst for knowledge, Kevin headed for the storeroom.

Jim Bob inclined his head in the man's direction. "He's got a car from the state pool, Ho. You know what I think?"

"You think he's from the Dallas EPA office? One of those engineer fellows who's been coming up here all year to take water samples?" Hobert Middleton was nobody's fool. He reminded people all the time, if they thought otherwise.

"It says in the paper that Starley City is expecting someone today to approve the contract at some damn fool ceremony at the city hall. I think that's him. State car, polyester suit, slick expression. Bet you a case of Bud that's the man what's going to deliver the shit to Boone Creek. We got to think of a way to stop him from okaying the construction contract until Fiff gets hisself back from Las Vegas and throws a monkey wrench in this mess."

"You honestly think Fiff can do some good?" Hobert asked.

"I don't know, but it's our best goddamn shot. Once everything is signed and tied up in pretty pink ribbon, we can whine as loud as we want, but nobody'll listen." Jim Bob poked a finger into Larry Joe's concave chest, which was conveniently at eye level. "Keep that government man here till I get back. I'm going to go fetch Roy Stiver so we can have a quorum for a special meeting of the town council."

"A special meeting?" Hobert raised two busby silver eyebrows. "I don't have time to stand around, Jim Bob. I got a fellow bringing in a load of new models and I need to be there to make sure the merchandise ain't dirty or damaged. I got a reputation for selling the cleanest cars in the county, you know--"

"Back in a minute." Jim Bob hurried out the door and cut across the driveway toward a row of buildings.

The man thought to carry the desecration of Boone Creek in his briefcase found a path out of the aisles. Blinking in the fluorescent glare, he cleared his throat and said, "The young man who pumped my gas said I could heat a burrito in the microwave. Would either of you know exactly how to operate it?"

Larry Joe and Hobert nodded.



Raz Buchanon stomped into the police department, his watery, red-rimmed eyes snapping and his whiskey chin several inches ahead of his nose. An aroma of sourness swept in on his heels. "Perkins stole my dawg, Arly! He plumb took it right out of my pen, and I want to know what in blazes you plan to do about it!"

I put down the block of wood I was whittling into a semblance of a duck. "Now, Raz, you need to calm down. How do you know Perkins took your dog? Maybe the dog jumped the fence and went looking for a bitch in heat."

"That dawg is a bitch--and that son of a bitch took her." Raz glanced around for a can to spit in. He settled for a dusty corner and sent out a glistening amber stream.

I will admit I winced. Having been the chief of police for more than eight months, I should have grown accustomed to such things. Some things may take years. "Do you have any proof to back your accusation, Raz? I can't just arrest Mr. Perkins and send him to the penitentiary on your say-so."

"You can, too. Perkins is a low-down lying thief; everybody in the county knows it but you, Arly Hanks. He done it so that he can run the dawg during deer season and pretend it's one of his from the last litter. I know for a fact he ain't had a decent dawg in two years." One cheek puffed out ominously, then receded. "Ain't had a deer, neither," he added with a cackle. He looped a misshapen thumb through the strap of his overalls and waited for me to join in the general merriment.

"I have to have proof."

"The hell you do! Jest ask Jim Bob if Perkins ain't a dawg thief. I'm guessing you'll take the word of the mayor." Would you take the word of the mayor of Maggody, Arkansas, population seven hundred fifty-five?

"You can sign a complaint if you want to, Raz, and I'll send Paulie out to Perkins's place to investigate. But I can't file charges unless the dog is discovered on his property." I took out a form and pushed it across my desk.

Raz wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he stared at the complaint form. "Iz that paper for dawg thieves?"

"That's right," I replied with a sober expression. "I have a different one for each species of stolen animal. This one is for dogs. If the animal were a cat, I'd use the green form." It was, of course, nonsense, but Raz couldn't read a word of it. I had to do something to amuse myнyself during the eight-hour shift.