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〃Evel Knievel himself。〃
The nurse brought the Diet Cokes； and wanted to chat for a moment。 She finally left。 〃Where was I？〃 Patrick asked。
〃I think you were about to torch it。〃
〃Right。 I listened for a moment。 The left rear wheel was spinning； and that was the only sound。 I couldn't see the highway； but I looked up in its direction and heard nothing。 Absolutely nothing。 It was a clean exit。 The nearest house was a mile away。 I was certain no one had heard the crash； but still I was in a hurry。 I stripped off the helmet and the pads and threw them in the Blazer； then I ran farther down the ravine to a spot where I had hidden the gasoline。〃
〃When？〃
〃Earlier in the day。 Very early。 At dawn。 I had four two…gallon plastic jugs of gas； and I quickly hauled them up to the Blazer。 It was dark as hell and I couldn't use a flashlight； but I had marked off a little path。 I placed three of the containers in the Blazer； stopped； listened。 Nothing from the highway。 Not a sound anywhere。 The adrenaline was pumping and my heart was in my throat。 The last container I splashed inside and out； then threw it in with the rest。 I backed off thirty feet or so； and lit a cigarette I had in my pocket。 I threw it； backed up even farther； and ducked behind a tree。 It landed on the Blazer； then the gas exploded。 Sounded like a bomb。 In an instant it was roaring from all the windows。 I climbed up the steepest side of the ravine and found a vantage point probably a hundred feet away。 I wanted to watch without getting caught。 The fire was howling； I had no idea it would make so much noise。 Some brush started to burn； and I thought maybe I had started a forest fire。 Luckily it had rained on Friday； a hard rain that soaked the trees and ground cover。〃 He took a drink of his soda。 〃I just realized I forgot to ask you about your family。 I'm sorry； Karl。 How's Iris？〃
〃Iris is fine。 We can talk about the family later。 Right now； I'd like to hear the story。〃
〃Sure。 Where was I？ I'm so scatterbrained。 It's all those drugs。〃
〃Watching the car burn。〃
〃Right。 So the fire gets really hot； then the gas tank explodes and it's another bomb。 I thought for a second I might get scorched。 Debris flies through the air； and rattles through the trees as it falls。 Finally； I hear something from the highway。 Voices。 People yelling。 I can't see anybody； but there's a motion。 A long time passes and the fire spreads around the car。 It's ing at me now； so I leave。 I can hear a siren ing。 I'm trying to find a creek I'd e across the day before a hundred yards or so through the woods。 I'm going to follow it。 And I'm looking for my dirt bike。〃
Karl hung on every word； absorbed every scene； made every step along the way with Patrick。 This escape route had been the subject of many fierce debates in the months after the disappearance； and no one had a clue。 〃A dirt bike？〃
〃Yeah。 An old one。 I bought it for five hundred dollars cash from a used car dealer in Hattiesburg several months earlier。 I played with it some in the woods。 Nobody knew I had it。〃
〃No title or registration？〃
〃Of course not。 I gotta tell you； Karl； as I ran through the woods； looking for the creek； still scared but in one piece； and I heard the fire and voices fade behind me and the siren getting louder； I knew I was running to freedom。 Patrick was dead； and he took with him a bad life。 He would get honored and buried properly； and everyone would say good…bye。 And before long people would start to forget about him。 But me； I was running wildly to a new life。 It was exhilarat…ing。〃
What about the poor guy burning in the car； Patrick？ While you were running joyously through the woods someone else was dying in your place。 Karl almost asked。 Patrick seemed oblivious to the fact that he had mitted murder。
〃Then suddenly； I'm lost。 The woods are dense； and somehow I stumble the wrong way。 I get a small flashlight； and I figure it's safe to use it。 I roam and backtrack until I can no longer hear the siren。 At one point； I sit down on a stump and make myself get a grip。 I'm in a panic。 Wouldn't this be great？ Survive the wreck only to die of starvation and exposure。 I start walking again； get lucky and find the creek。 Before long； I find the dirt bike。 I push it a hundred yards； up the side of a hill； to an old logging trail； and of course by now my two…hundred…and…thirty…pound lumbering fat ass is practically dead。 There's not a house within two miles； so I start the bike and follow the logging trail。 I've ridden the area several times on the bike； so I know it well。 I find a gravel road； and see the first house。 I've got the bike jerry…rigged with aluminum tubes that act to muffle the engine； so I'm not making much noise。 Before long； I'm on a paved road in Stone County。 I stay away from the main highway； and stick to the back roads。 A couple of hours later； I make it back to the cabin。〃
〃Why did you go back to the cabin？〃
〃I had to regroup。〃
〃Weren't you afraid of being seen by Pepper？〃
Patrick didn't flinch at the question。 Karl had timed it perfectly； and he watched for a reaction。 None。 Patrick studied his feet for a few seconds； then said； 〃Pepper was gone。〃
Twenty…four
TNDERHILL WAS BACK。 Fresh from eight hours of watching videos and reviewing notes in another room。 He walked in； gave a generic hello in the general direction of Stephano arid his lawyer； then got to work。 〃If we could pick up where you left off yesterday； Mr。 Stephano。〃
〃Where might that be？〃
〃Your invasion of Brazil。〃
〃Right。 Well； let's see。 It's a big country。 A hundred and sixty million people； more square miles than the lower forty…eight； and a history of being a marvelous place to hide； especially if you're on the run。 Nazis favored it for years。 We put together a dossier on Lanigan； had it translated into Portuguese。 We had a police artist work with some puter people to develop a series of color…enhanced renderings of what Lanigan looked like now。 We spent hours with the sailboat charter captain in Orange Beach； as well as with the bankers in Nassau； and together they helped us develop a series of detailed sketches of Lanigan。 We even met with the partners in the firm and went over the sketches。 They； in turn； showed them to the secretaries。 One of the partners； Mr。 Bogan； even took the best rendering to the widow Lanigan for her opinion。〃
〃Now that you've caught him； were your photos close？〃
〃Fairly close。 The chin and the nose threw us off a bit。〃
〃Please continue。〃
〃We hurried to Brazil； and found three of the best private investigative firms in the country。 One in Rio； one in Sao Paulo； and one in Recife； in the northeast。 We were paying top dollar； so we hired the very best。 We put them together as a team； and gathered them in Sao Paulo for a week。 We listened to them。 They developed the story that Patrick should be an American fugitive wanted for the kidnap and murder of the daughter of a wealthy family； a family now offering a reward for information about his whereabouts。 The murder of a child was； of course； designed to arouse more sympathy than stealing money from a bunch of lawyers。
〃We went straight to the language schools； flashing pictures of Lanigan and