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seemed more concerned for his wife and took her aside now, whispering to her. One of the
deputies walked off and then started to jog. The other three moved toward the porch, though
didn t get too close, talking again, looking at the alligator.
Gary Hammond stood by himself in his neat navy-blue suit.
This morning a few minutes before seven Gary s boss, Colonel McKenna, had called him at
home and said,  You re not doing anything, are you? Gary s current assignment had him
reviewing cold cases, homicides over a year old and still open. No, not something pressing,
which McKenna knew. He told Gary about the alligator report and how to get to the judge s
house, out Southern Boulevard about a mile this side of the Stockade, turn left.  It might be
the gator wandered in, McKenna said,  a canal runs by his property. Or some idiot brought it
as a joke. Or then again it wasn t meant to be funny. You understand? So look around good.
 What do I do about the alligator?
 Call Game and Fish if you have to. What I m concerned with is finding out how it got there.
So now, the next step& He could call Game and Freshwater Fish, wait around for somebody
to come out and kill the alligator. That was a fact, they weren t going to dress its wounds.
Gary watched a green-and-white creeping toward them from the far end of the house, coming
past sabal palms, dipping over the uneven ground in low gear. The judge seemed to have a
tropical garden out here, orchids hanging from trees& He was taking his wife by the arm
toward the squad car. The three deputies were looking that way now.
They could spend half the day waiting for a Game man to get here. Then stand around some
more, watching. Gary thought about taking his suit coat off. No, he d leave it on, he was
comfortable in it. He drew the Beretta holstered on his right hip.
Walking past the deputies Gary racked the slide to put a nine-millimeter load in the chamber.
They turned as one at the familiar sound it made. Gary kept going, his eyes holding on the
gator as he opened the screen door, closed it quietly, walked up to stand over the gator and
stare at its head. You could crouch low and shoot it through an eye or into its ear to find its
tiny brain. Or you could stand close and aim at a spot directly behind the animal s skull, drive
the bullet straight down to cut its spine. He had seen Game men and contract nuisance hunters
kill this way. A shame even when it had to be done. Poachers hit them with an ax or a sledge
looking at forty-seven dollars a foot for the hide to make belts and shoes for snappy dressers.
Someone, Gary believed, had brought this gator. It did not know where the hell it was or want
to be here lying on a cement floor. There were nicks in its hide, a mark on its skull, a dent, it
looked like, where someone had given it a good lick. He aimed the Beretta at the spot behind
the skull, the muzzle a foot away, and fired one shot. The gator flattened and lay still.
The deputies waited for him to come out to the yard before they filed in, each one giving him
a look before approaching the gator to poke it with a toe.
" " "
 I think it was brought here, Gary said, standing with his back to the kitchen sink.  It could
be malicious mischief we re looking at, criminal negligence, or it could be more serious.
The judge had come into the kitchen dressed for business in a gray suit and maroon tie. He
said,  Wait, got a glass from one cupboard, a bottle of Jim Beam from another, and poured
himself a good one, eight o clock in the morning. He went to the refrigerator for ice, then
moved Gary out of the way to add a splash of water. Now he took a couple of deep pulls on
his highball, raised the glass and said,  Ahhh, that s better. It s been quite a day. An alligator
walks into my house and my wife walks out. She says,  That s it, I m leaving. 
 I could see she was scared, Gary said.  But she ll get over it. I mean, you don t think she ll
actually move out, do you?
 That s what she says.
Gary watched the judge sip his drink. He didn t seem too upset.
 This is the second time it s happened to her. She isn t going for three, I know.
 You had one here before?
 No, it was up at Weeki Wachee, years ago. My wife was a mermaid at the time I met her. An
alligator swam into her act one day and she hasn t been the same since. The judge paused to
take a drink.  It did something to her, I don t know what. See, then another one comes along,
the poor woman can t handle it. I said,  Well, hon, it s up to you. At least she can go
someplace there aren t any alligators. Maybe in time& I don t know, people do have phobias.
Some are scared to death of cats. A cat walks in the room, they re petrified.
There was something here Gary didn t understand. He said,  Yeah, but everybody s afraid of
alligators. You d better be. I mean it s normal.
The judge had turned and was gazing out the window, at deputies appearing out of the trees,
poking through his plants.
 What re they looking for?
Gary edged up behind the judge to look over his shoulder. He said,  I think the alligator was
brought here. Then had to step back when the judge turned to face him.
 Why?
 Well, I did notice driving in, there s a canal over on the other side of your property where it
might ve come from& 
The judge said,  I don t see there s any question about it. That canal hooks into a network of
canals. One or the other will take you right up to Okeechobee. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]