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around。
〃How's business？〃 Garcia asked。
〃Not great； Al。〃
〃Takes time。 You only been at it…what…two years。 And there's plenty of petition in this town。〃
No fooling； Keyes thought。 He had arrived in Miami in 1979 from a small newspaper in suburban Baltimore。 There was nothing original about why he'd left for Florida…a better job； no snow； plenty of sunshine。 On his first day at the Miami Sun； Keyes had been assigned the desk next to Skip Wiley…the newsroom equivalent of Parris Island。 Keyes covered cops for a while； then courts； then local politics。 His reporting had been solid； his writing workmanlike but undistinguished。 The editors never questioned his ability； only his stomach。
There were two stories monly told about Brian Keyes at the Miami Sun。 The first happened a year after his arrival； when a fully loaded 727 fireballed down in Florida Bay。 Keyes had rented an outboard and sped to the scene； and he'd filed a superb story； full of gripping detail。 But they'd damn near had to hospitalize him afterward： for six months Keyes kept hallucinating that burned arms and legs were reaching out from under his bedroom furniture。
The second anecdote was the most well…known。 Even Al Garcia knew about Callie Davenport。 She was a four…year…old girl who'd been kidnapped from nursery school by a deranged sprinkler repairman。 The lunatic had thrown her into a truck； driven out to the Glades； and murdered her。 After some deer hunters found the body； Cab Mulcahy； the managing editor； had told Brian Keyes to go interview Callie Davenport's grief…stricken parents。 Keyes had written a real heart…breaker； too； just like the old man wanted。 But that same night he'd marched into Mulcahy's office and quit。 When Keyes rushed out of the newsroom； everyone could see he'd been crying。 〃That young man；〃 Skip Wiley had said； watching him go； 〃is too easily horrified to be a great journalist。〃
Besides Keyes himself； Skip Wiley was the only person in the world who knew the real reason for the tears。 But he wasn't telling。
A few months later Keyes got his private investigator's license； and his newspaper friends were amused。 They wondered how the hell he was going to hold together； working for a bunch of sleazoid lawyers and bail bondsmen。 Brian Keyes wondered too； and wound up avoiding the rough cases。 The cases that really paid。
〃Still doing divorces？〃 Al Garcia asked。
〃Here and there。〃 Keyes hated to admit it； but that's what covered the rent： he'd gotten damn good at staking out nooner motels with his three…hundred…millimeter Nikon。 That was another reason for Al Garcia's affability。 Last year he had hired Brian Keyes to get the goods on his new son…in…law。 Garcia despised the kid； and was on the verge of outright murdering him when he called Keyes for help。 Keyes had done a hell of a job； too。 Tracked the little stud to a VD clinic in Homestead。 Garcia's daughter wasn't thrilled by the news； but Al was。 The divorce went through in four weeks； a new Dade County record。
Now； Brian Keyes had a friend for life。
Garcia poured the coffee。 〃So you got a biggie； Brian。〃
〃Tell me about it。〃
〃It's a touchy one。 Can't say much； especially now that you're lined up with the other side。〃
〃Did you work the Harper case？〃
〃Hell； everybody up here worked that case。〃
Keyes tried to sip the coffee and nearly boiled his upper lip。
〃Hey；〃 Garcia said； 〃that piece…of…shit rag newspaper you used to work for finally printed something intelligent this morning。 You see it？〃
〃My paper was in a puddle。〃
〃Ha！ You should have read it anyway。 Wiley； the asshole that writes that column。 I hate that guy normally…I really can't stand him。 But today he did okay。〃
Keyes didn't want to talk about Skip Wiley。
〃He wrote about this case；〃 Garcia went on。 〃About that little scuzzball we arrested。〃
〃I'll be sure to get a copy；〃 Keyes said。
〃I mean； it wasn't a hundred percent right； there was a few things he screwed up； but overall he did an okay job。 I clipped it out and taped it on the refrigerator。 I want my boy to read it when he gets home from school。 Let him see what his old man does for a living。〃
〃I'm sure he'll get a charge out of it； Al。 Tell me about Ernesto Cabal。〃
〃Dirtbag burglar。〃
〃Was he on your list of suspects？〃
Garcia said； 〃What do you mean？〃
〃I mean； you've got thirty detectives working on this murder； right？ You must have had a list of suspects。〃
〃Not on this one。〃
〃So what we're talking about is blind luck。 Some Beach cop nails the guy for running a traffic light and bingo； there's Mr。 Sparky Harper's missing automobile。〃
〃Luck was only part of it；〃 Garcia said sourly。
Keyes said； 〃You caught Cabal in the victim's car； but what else？〃
〃What else do we need？〃
〃A witness or two might be nice。〃
〃Patience； Brian。 We're working on it。〃
〃And a motive？〃
Garcia held up his hands。 〃Robbery； of course。〃
〃e on； Al； this wasn't a knife in the ribs。 It was the ritual murder of a prominent citizen。 How did Harper get into those silly clothes？ Who smeared suntan oil all over him？ Who stuffed a goddamn toy alligator down his throat？ Who sawed his legs off？ Are you telling me that some two…bit auto burglar concocted this whole thing？〃
〃People do crazy things for a new Oldsmobile。〃
〃You're hopeless；〃 Keyes said。
〃Don't tell me you believe Cabal's story？ Brian； you got to get this liberal…crusader shit out of your system。 I thought two years away from that newspaper would cure you。〃
〃You've got to admit； it's a very weird case。 You guys checked out the car； right？〃
〃It was clean； except for Cabal's prints。〃
Keyes took out a legal pad and started jotting notes。 〃What about the suitcase？〃
〃No prints。 Its model number matches a batch sent to Jordan Marsh about a year ago； but we can't be sure。 Could've just as easily e from Macy's。〃
Keyes said； 〃Any sign of the missing legs？〃
〃Nope。〃
〃Did you trace that terrific Hawaiian wardrobe？〃
〃Ugh…ugh。〃 Garcia made a zipper motion across his lips。
〃Oh； you got something； uh？ A store； perhaps。 Maybe even a salesman who remembers something odd about this particular customer…〃
〃Brian； back off。 This is a very touchy case。 If the chief even suspected I was talking to you； I'd be shaking out parking meters for the rest of my life。 I think we'd better call it quits for today。〃
Keyes put the legal pad back in his briefcase。 〃I'm sorry； Al。 I appreciate what you're doing。〃 Keyes was telling the truth。 Garcia didn't owe him a damn thing。
〃Normally I wouldn't mind； Brian； it's just that this one is Hal's case。 He's the lead detective。 Went out to the scene and all。 I don't want to screw it up for him。〃
〃I understand。 What's he got you doing？〃
Garcia rolled his eyes。 〃Checking out dead…enders。 Take a look at this。〃 He slid a sheet of paper across the desk。
It was a typed letter。 Keyes scanned it quickly。 He started to read it again； when Garcia snatched it away。
〃Crazy； huh？ It came in today's mail。〃
Keyes asked for a Xerox copy。
〃No way； Brian。 The PD's office would cream over something like this。 And it's crap； take my word for it。 It's going right into the old circular file as soon as