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ad docilely accepted the butchery of the Christmas column； he couldn't believe that Wiley had suppressed what must have been a colossal homicidal rage。
Was Skip that far gone？
In the meantime； the Nights of December had fallen quiet and dropped off the front page； much to the relief of the men in the orange blazers。 Scores of suspects had been rounded up； including a few men who might have vaguely resembled Jesus Bernal or Daniel 〃Viceroy〃 Wilson； all were released or charged with unrelated crimes。 There was also talk of a summit with Seminole tribal elders to seek assistance in locating Tommy Tigertail； but the Seminoles refused to go near the police station and the cops refused to enter the reservation； so the meeting never materialized。
The morning edition of the Sun had carried four stories about the uping Orange Bowl festivities （including a color photograph of twenty newly arrived Shriners； jovially polishing their Harleys）； but in the whole newspaper there was only one item about Las Noches de Diciembre。 It was a short feature story and a cartoon； beneath a headline that said： Tennis Buff Boffs Bomb Suspect。
It was only now； rereading it in print； that Cab Mulcahy realized how trenchantly the presentation of Ricky Bloodworth's article…the tone； the headline； the slapstick cartoon…struck at the very manhood of the Nights of December。 It worried Mulcahy。 Coupled with Wiley's ominous silence； it worried him profoundly。
He looked out at the newsroom just in time to see a lean figure running toward the office； weaving through the desks and video…display terminals。 It was Brian Keyes。
〃He called！〃 Keyes said breathlessly。 〃Twenty minutes ago。 The bastard left a message on my beeper。〃
'What did he say？〃
〃He said he's gonna phone here； your office。 Wants to talk to both of us。〃
〃It's about damn time；〃 Mulcahy said； feeling a little better about the prospects。 He took off his black dinner jacket and hung it over a chair。
As they waited for the phone to ring； Mulcahy busied himself by brewing a fresh pot of coffee。 His hands shook slightly as he poured it。 Keyes scooped a handful of peppermint candies from a jar on the secretary's desk and ate them mechanically； one by one。
〃What are we going to say？〃 Mulcahy asked。 〃When he calls； what the hell are we supposed to say？〃
〃We've got to convince him it's all over；〃 Keyes said。 〃Tell him we know the whole plan。 Tell him if he tries anything at the parade； Las Noches are as good as dead。 Tell him it'll make Bonnie and Clyde look like Sunday at the beach。〃
Mulcahy nodded neutrally。 Might work； might not。 With Skip； who the hell could ever tell？
〃I think we ought to concede some minor points；〃 Mulcahy suggested。 〃He'll never give up if he thinks it's been a total loss。〃
〃You're right；〃 Keyes said。 〃Congratulate him on all the ink they got。 The newsmagazines； the Post； USA Today。 Tell him the Nights of December made their point。 They got everybody's attention。〃
'Which is true。〃
〃Of course it's true。〃
〃But is it enough for Skip？〃
Keyes and Mulcahy looked at each other with the same answer。
〃What are we going to do；〃 Keyes asked； 〃when he tells us to go beat our meat？〃
Mulcahy stroked his chin。 〃We could talk to Jenna。〃
〃Forget it；〃 Keyes said sharply。 〃Lost cause。〃
〃Then it's over。 Bloodbath or not； we go to the cops。〃
〃Yup。〃 Keyes glanced at the telephone。
〃Imagine the headlines； Cab。〃
〃God help us。〃
The phone rang。 Once。 Twice。 Mulcahy swallowed hard and answered on the third ring。
〃I see；〃 he said after a few seconds。
Keyes excitedly pointed to the speaker box。 Mulcahy shook his head unhappily。 Then he hung up。 His face was like gray crepe。
〃That wasn't him；〃 Mulcahy said。 〃It wasn't Wiley。〃
〃Then who was it？〃
〃Sergeant Garcia；〃 he said gravely。 〃Apparently the Nights of December just blew up the one and only Richard L。 Bloodworth。〃
The bomb that exploded in Ricky Bloodworth's lap was powerful by Little Havana standards； but not utterly devastating。 To build it； Jesus Bernal had hollowed a round Styrofoam lobster float and packed the core with generous but unmeasured amounts of Semtex…H； C…4； and old gunpowder。 Then he ran a fuse through the middle and plugged the ends with gasoline…soaked Jockey shorts and two Army blasting caps。 Next Bernal had meticulously embedded into the Styrofoam ball hundreds of two…penny nails （the sharp ends facing out）； as well as assorted slivers of rusty cola cans and soup tins。 It was not a bomb designed to wipe out embassies or armored limousines； this was； in the terrorist vernacular； an antipersonnel device。 Bernal had packed the bristling lobster buoy into an empty one…gallon paint drum and threaded the fuse through a hole in the lid。 The fuse became part of the magnificent bow that adorned the deadly brown box…an inspired touch of which the Cuban was especially proud。
Yet； as always； Jesus Bernal had a problem with quality control。 He had envisioned a weapon that would fire shrapnel in all directions at an equal force； leaving no square centimeter of human flesh unpunctured。 The paint can； Bernal had determined； would itself disintegrate into jagged fragments and bee part of the lethal payload。
Fortunately for Ricky Bloodworth； that is not what happened。 Fortunately； Jesus Bernal had failed to seal properly the bottom of the paint can； which blew off at the instant of explosion and gave the bomb something it was never supposed to have： rocket thrust。
In what the Metro…Dade Bomb Squad calculated was no more than two…thousandths of a second； Jesus Bernal's prize package blasted off from Ricky Bloodworth's lap on a nineteen…degree trajectory； passed cleanly through three plywood toilet stalls； and detonated in the men's urinal。 The rest room was gutted。
An hour later； when Cab Mulcahy and Brian Keyes arrived； men in white lab coats were balanced on stepladders； scraping what appeared to be chunks of pink bubble gum off the charred rest…room ceiling。
〃Mr。 Bloodworth's fingertips；〃 Al Garcia explained。 〃We've found seven out of ten； so far。〃
〃How is he？〃 Mulcahy asked。
〃He's got a nosebleed like Victoria Falls；〃 the detective said； 〃but he'll make it。〃
Luckily； the police station was only five minutes from Flagler Memorial Hospital。 Ricky Bloodworth had arrived in the emergency room semiconscious and suffering from hand injuries； lacerations and second…degree burns over his face and groin。
〃The tip of his cock got fried…don't ask me how；〃 Garcia said。 〃He's also deaf； but the doctor says that might be temporary。〃
Mulcahy stepped gingerly through the smoky chamber； his shoes crunching on a carpet of broken mirror； splintered wood； and powdered tile。 Pretzeled by the blast； naked water pipes sprouted from the walls and floor； dripping milky fluid。
Brian Keyes knelt next to the bomb…squad guys as they picked through the ceramic ruins of the urinal。 〃Look at all these damn nails；〃 Keyes said。
〃Two hundred seven；〃 said one of the bomb experts； 〃and still counting。〃
Keyes looked up and saw Mulcahy with his black tie loosened and French sleeves rolled up。 He had a notebook out； and was descending on Al Garcia。 Keyes had t