بخش 02 - فصل 18

18

Hodges hasn’t taken the bait because he understands the stakes: pot limit. If he writes the wrong message, he’ll never hear from Mr. Mercedes again. On the other hand, if he does what he’s sure Mr. Mercedes expects–coy and clumsy efforts to discover who the guy is–the conniving sonofabitch will run rings around him.

The question to be answered before he starts is simple: who is going to be the fish in this relationship, and who is going to be the fisherman? He has to write something, because the Blue Umbrella is all he has. He can call on none of his old police resources. The letters Mr. Mercedes wrote to Olivia Trelawney and Hodges

himself are worthless without a suspect. Besides, a letter is just a letter, while computer chat is . . . “A dialogue,” he says. Only he needs a lure. The tastiest lure imaginable. He can pretend he’s suicidal, it wouldn’t be hard, because until very recently he has been. He’s sure that meditations on the attractiveness of death would

keep Mr. Mercedes talking for awhile, but for how long before the guy realized he was being played? This is no hopped-up moke who believes the police really are going to give him a million dollars and a 747 that will fly him to El Salvador. Mr. Mercedes is a very intelligent person who happens to be crazy.

Hodges draws his legal pad onto his lap and turns to a fresh page. Halfway down he writes half a dozen words in large capitals: I HAVE TO WIND HIM UP. He puts a box around this, places the legal pad in the case file he has started, and closes the thickening folder. He sits a moment longer, looking at the

screensaver photo of his daughter, who is no longer five and no longer thinks he’s God. “Good night, Allie.” He turns off his computer and goes to bed. He doesn’t expect to sleep, but he does.