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bright beach towel slung nonchalantly over one shoulder。 Nicholas thought of Justine； wondered where she'd gone。
'Yeah； we're old friends； the sand and I。'
The woman was close enough for them to see how beautiful she was。 Her long hair had been streaked by the sun。 She ran past them to meet her lover。
Croaker squinted up at the sun for a moment。 'I threw Alison out of the house last night。'
Nicholas looked at him silently。
Croaker gave him a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes。 'Well； it wasn't really like that。 I think she wanted to go； too。 Getting restless。 Yeah。 We both were。' He stuffed his big hands in his trouser pockets。 'It was bloodless。 Relatively。 She'll get over it。 These things' … his shoulders lifted and fell … 'you know； they pass and …'
They both stopped at once as if on cue。 The sea rolled up near them。 Over the slight hump of sand lay a dark straggle of sea grape。
Croaker looked down at his shoes； half sunk in the sand。 When he looked up； he said； 'Nick； Vincent's dead。 They found him last night。' He didn't say where。 'His neck had been broken。〃
Nicholas took a deep breath and sat down in the sand。 He wrapped his arms round his legs； stared out to sea。
'Nick。。。'
He felt numb； as if his brain had been anaesthetized。 He recalled Doc Deerforth talking about pain。 This seemed more than enough。 This was the day of Terry's and Ei's funeral。
'Jesus；' he said。 'Jesus。'
Croaker crouched down next to him。 'Nick；' he said gently； 'there was no other way to tell you。 There was the phone but I couldn't do that。'
Nicholas nodded。 Through the numbness； he understood。 Croaker had recognized the debt he owed him。 He appreciated the fact that the Lieutenant had e all the way out here when he only had to have someone pick up a phone and dial。 He remembered that the two had had dinner last night and wondered if this was； in part； Vincent's legacy。 If so； it was a fitting one。
'Nick；' Croaker said。 He hesitated。
Nicholas's gaze swung round。 'What's going on？ You have to tell me。' 'I don't know。 What do you mean？ I … look； Tomkin's involved。 Up to his armpits。 He received a ninja warning about a week ago。 It fits in。 I've seen it。 It's authentic。 He has a lot of business deals with a number of high…powered Japanese firms。 No one's very buddy…buddy in business； least of all them。 He crossed them in some way。 Anyhow； it's a mortal offence he's mitted。 There's no doubt they've sent one over to kill him。'
'It's been tried before。 Tomkin's a grown…up bastard …now。 He doesn't need your help。'
Nicholas shook his head。 'That's where you're wrong。 Without me； he's a dead man。'
'But it makes no sense； don't you see？ The two deaths out here； the three in the city。 None have any link with Tomkin。'
'They must have；' Nicholas said； stubbornly。 'Look； he's even made an attempt to frighten Justine。' He told Croaker about the furred thing thrown through the kitchen window。
Croaker looked at him for a moment。 Beyond； he could hear the surf hissing as it sucked at the beachfront。 The sounds of laughter were bright and brittle as if they were made to be broken。
'What if；' Croaker said slowly； 'that message wasn't meant for Justine。'
Nicholas stared at Croaker。
'What do you mean？'
'I think it's time we faced the facts。 I think that warning was meant for you。'
Nicholas gave a short； sharp laugh。 For me？ Oh； don't be idiotic。 There's no reason …'
'There must be；' Croaker said earnestly。 'Look at the pattern。 The two deaths out here。 Terry and Eileen。 Now Vincent in the city。 You're the central point to all the deaths。'
'I didn't know the second man out here。'
'No； but the murder happened close to you。'
'Lew； they happened close to a lot of people。'
'But only to one who's had three friends murdered subsequently。〃
It was logical of course； but； Nicholas knew； logic was often not the answer。
He shook his head。 'I don't think I can buy it。 As I said； there's no reason。 'It's a smoke…screen。'
'A hell of a smoke…screen！' Croaker snorted。
'It wouldn't matter to him； don't you see？ He must know that I'm involved through Justine。 I'm the danger to him； not you； or Tomkin's muscle。 He knows that。 No； he's after Tom…kin； plain and simple。 He's just trying to muddy the water。〃
Croaker held up a hand。 'Okay； okay。 It was just a theory。 But I gotta tell you； I hope you're right because I cared a hell of a lot more about Vincent Ito than I do about Raphael Tom…kin。'
Nicholas looked at him。 It was as close as they both could e to the outward recognition of their friendship。 He smiled。 〃Thanks。 That means a lot … to me。 I know it would to Vincent； too。'
They stood up。 Croaker had kept his suit jacket on despite the…heat of the day。 Now he was sweating profusely and he shrugged out of it。 His thin white shirt was stained with sweat。 ' 'You ready to go back？'
Nicholas nodded。 'One thing； Lew。' He hesitated。
'Shoot。'
'You may not want to tell me。'
〃Then I won't。 Okay？'
Nicholas smiled。 'Okay。' They began to walk up the beach towards Croaker's car。 'What is it between you and Tom…kin？'
Croaker opened the door； slung his jacket onto the back seat。 He got in behind the wheel。 He had parked in the shade but the interior was still hot。 Nicholas got in on the passenger's side and Croaker started the engine。
'You're right；' he said。 'I might not want to tell you。 And a few days ago； I wouldn't have。' He made a broken U…turn； began to drive up Dune Road towards the bridge across the canal。 'But everything's different now and I guess I figure if I can't trust you； there ain't nobody to trust； and I can't live my life like that。'
They rumbled across the bridge； heading past the houses and the small bobbing boats with their stowed outboard motors； towards the highway。
'You know about the Didion thing。'
Nicholas was surprised。 'You mean the murder of dial model？ Sure； but only what was spread across the papers。 I used to see her in practically every magazine I picked up。'
'Yeah；' Croaker said meditatively。 'Beautiful lady。 Just beautiful。 Like they invented the word for her。'
'It sounds like …'
'Nah。 Not what you think。' They swung onto the highway and Croaker picked up speed。 The wind was still hot enough to keep them from cooling off。 'But it struck me； you know； that this girl's a person just like everyone else。 All anyone thinks of is the image； you know？ Her face； her body like that； the facade。 No one would stop to think that she might be just as fucked up as all the rest of us； huh？ That she belched after a good meal； dial she might fart once in a while。 Human things。'
He switched lanes； avoiding a blue and white bus； its diesel exhaust asphyxiating。 He jammed his horn as they came abreast； then they were shooting away westward。
'Then she was dead and everybody was making a stink。 She was a celebrity and responsible for a helluva lot of bread； not to mention the hold she had on a multiple million fantasies。 But nobody； I guarantee you； said： There's another life stupidly wasted。 Well； buddy； dial's what I thought about when I stood there in the middle of her bedroom and looked at her cool body。 I thought： She's a hum