believe his luck.
'Candy Ann Adams tells me you've been to see her where she works,' Nudger said.
Gantner studied him, sized him up, seemed to turn slightly hostile. 'So what? You got a claim on that?'
'Curtis Colt does.'
Gantner laughed. It was an ugly laugh that revealed silver fillings toward the back of his perfectly even white teeth. 'Colt ain't got a claim on anything except his reservation in the hot seat Saturday. A woman like Candy Ann has gotta go on living. I'm just the guy to help her do that.'
'She came to you for help.'
'And I'd like to help her. My way.'
'I think you should know Curtis has a brother,' Nudger said. 'He's fond of Candy Ann, and he's mentally slow and simple, maybe dangerous when it comes to Curtis' woman.'
'Am I supposed to be scared?'
'You're supposed to be warned.'
'What if Candy Ann wants me to come around?' Gantner said, smiling lewdly. 'After all, she's the one who approached me. Maybe she ain't ready to be a nun and has her personal needs.'
'You'd be smart to stay away from her,' Nudger said.
Gantner laughed again. He glanced out through the wide window at the tanned female flesh around the pool. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'Candy Ann ain't all that ripe yet, and there's plenty of good hunting in this part of the woods. The brother can have her.'
'You don't say that as if you mean it,' Nudger told him.
Gantner motioned with a beefy arm and hand. 'Look out there at the pool and you'll see why I mean what I say.'
Nudger didn't look outside. He knew he was wasting his time, but he said anyway, 'Think about Curtis Colt, and if anything new occurs to you, give me a call.'
'Sure, you can count on it,' Gantner said, telling Nudger what he wanted to hear but laying on the irony. Mocking bastard.
Nudger went to the door and paused. 'Don't wear yourself out on your vacation,' he said.
'Why not? That's what vacations are for.'
'Are you going to travel anywhere? Disney World? The Truman Library?'
Gantner shook his head slowly, his thin lips almost smiling. 'Nope, I'm gonna stay around town.' His eyes darted in the direction of a loud splash and then back. 'Do my special kind of relaxing right here.'
'Good. Maybe we can talk again if something comes up about Curtis Colt.'
'That ain't at all likely,' Gantner said. 'It's a shame they don't televise executions. You think they will someday?'
'Someday soon, probably,' Nudger said, and opened the door, catching the sharp scent of chlorine from the pool. He went out into the bright, hot afternoon.
As he walked back to his car he saw that the blond stewardess had refastened her bikini strap and rolled onto her back. She was wearing oversized dark sunglasses and a bored expression. Nudger doubted she'd ever been inside Gantner's apartment. Nudger drove to his office, thinking that Candy Ann was right about how the nearer the execution date loomed, the harder the witnesses would cling to their stories. They needed to be right about what they'd seen, or they themselves would be guilty of taking the life of an innocent man. Even in the face of the compelling new evidence Nudger hoped for, it might be impossible to get the witnesses to change their stories, to admit that they might have been mistaken as they mimicked their god and dictated premature death.
Not only was Gantner not going to reconsider what he'd seen the night of the murder, he was unmistakably enjoying Curtis Colt's predicament. There were undertones to Gant- ner's enjoyment that bothered Nudger; the expression on the construction worker's face when he talked about Colt's execution was reminiscent of the faces of children from Nudger's past as they bent studiously to watch a colony of ants slowly devour a writhing caterpillar. What they seemed to enjoy most about the caterpillar's struggle was that there was no doubt about the outcome, probably not even in the caterpillar.
Maybe that was something Colt understood. Though he'd been on the other side of the city from the holdup and murder, that didn't seem to make much difference to him. He had no doubt of the outcome of his life. Like most career criminals, Colt had a soured and cynical view of society. That he hadn't committed this particular crime wouldn't seem to make much difference, not if the cards were marked against him from the day he was born. Sooner or later he had to play a hand and lose everything. The game, his life, was fixed. He was sitting in his cell, certain now, as he had been from the beginning, that he was doomed to be society's victim. Now he was stubbornly refusing to plead, to beg. He wanted to withhold from his antagonists the one thing they were never able to take from him: his dignity.
Nudger called Iris Langeneckert and she refused to talk with him again. She said she had nothing to add, and that she was still certain of her story. Then she told Nudger she would pray for Curtis Colt's soul. Nudger believed her; she was one witness who wasn't taking the consequences of her testimony lightly.
Edna Fine agreed to see Nudger. He drove to her apartment building and parked across the street on Gravois, just down the block from the liquor store that had been the scene of the murder.
It was early evening now and had cooled down to the low eighties. In the west Nudger could see bursts of illumination flashing along the horizon. Chain lightning, it was called, an electrical disturbance that had nothing to do with rain and wasn't accompanied by thunder. It was often visible in the dry, warm evenings of long midwestern heat waves.
Nudger was crossing the street toward Edna Fine's apartment when he saw the blue Toyota pickup. It pulled away from the curb down the block, heading toward him.
Then it braked, made a slow U-turn, and drove away in the opposite direction, west toward the lightning. It hadn't gotten near enough for Nudger to get a clear view of the driver.
When Edna Fine answered his knock she was wearing a dark bathrobe that seemed oddly judicial. Or maybe that was just Nudger's warped perspective. Her hair was mussed and she was holding a long tortoiseshell comb. There were several strands of hair caught in the comb.
'I'm getting dressed to go out,' she explained. 'An appointment I forgot about. I'm rather in a hurry, Mr. Nudger.'
'I won't keep you,' Nudger said. 'Did Randy Gantner just leave here?'
'Who?' She puckered her old-maid lips in puzzlement.
'Gantner. He's another of the witnesses in the Curtis Colt trial.'
She nodded sternly. 'Yes, now I remember the name. No, he hasn't been here. Not ever.'
'All right,' Nudger said, flashing the old sweet smile. 'Can I have five minutes of your time?'
'Of course. Five minutes. I can give you that. But I must warn you, Mr. Nudger, I haven't thought of anything new, and I really can't change my story about the night of the murder. Not in good conscience.'
And she didn't change her story. Even Edna Fine seemed to be clinging to her version of the facts for comfort as Saturday drew nearer.
Nudger left her with her cats in her lilac-scented apartment and sat for a while across the street in the parked Volkswagen. He was reasonably sure it was Gantner's truck that he'd seen make the U-turn and drive away. But what was Gantner doing here? He had no reason to watch Edna Fine's apartment. And he hadn't gone inside. Or had he? Maybe for some reason Edna Fine was lying about not seeing Gantner. Or maybe Gantner had come to talk with her and hadn't had a chance before Nudger drove up and parked across the street from her apartment.
Another possibility gnawed. The prospect of some sort of collusion among the witnesses. Another development, however vague, that pointed to Colt's innocence.
Nudger clenched his fists in frustration. His stomach rumbled. Sometimes it seemed that he was the only one in his world who didn't realize what was going on. No one would tell him because they had other interests, other directions. He was the only one swimming against the current, stroking desperately to reach a destination nobody else cared about. Sometimes, most of the time, his life was lonely.
He started the car. Then he swallowed his frustration and not a little bit of pride and drove toward Claudia's. Some things he had to share, or they might eventually destroy him. He could share them with Claudia.
Their relationship might be frayed right now, but it would hold. She'd understand. When Nudger needed to
