Excerpt fromThe Whistlerby John Grisham
Chapter 1
The satellite radio was playing soft jazz, a compromise.
Soft, so Hugos deep and lengthy nap would not be disturbed.
Soft, because Lacy didnt care much for jazz either.
It was another give-and-take of sorts, one of many that had sustained their teamwork over the years.
He slept and she drove and both were content.
With budget cuts, though, those disappeared.
And so he slept.
Lacy enjoyed the quiet.
She handled most of her cases alone, as did her colleagues.
Deeper cuts had decimated the office, and the BJC was down to its last six investigators.
Lacy was forever grateful that almost all judges were honest, hardworking people committed to justice and equality.
Otherwise, she would have left long ago.
The small number of bad apples kept her busy fifty hours a week.
She gently touched the signal switch and slowed on the exit ramp.
Time for you to roll to your right and snore at the window.
You always snore, at least according to your wife.
Well, in my defense, I was walking the floor at three this morning with her latest child.
I think its a girl.
The lovely and ever-pregnant Verna kept few secrets when it came to her husband.
It was her calling to keep his ego in check and it was no small task.
He vowed to make a comeback.
His mother said no.
He graduated with honors and went to law school.
His glory days were fading fast, but he would always carry some of the swagger possessed by all-Americans.
He couldnt help it.
Twenty minutes, huh?
Sure, or not.
He rolled to his right, closed his eyes, and said, I want a new partner.
Thats an idea, but the problem is nobody else will have you.
And one with a bigger car.
It gets fifty miles a gallon.
He grunted again, grew still, then twitched, jerked, mumbled, and sat straight up.
He rubbed his eyes and said, What are we listening to?
I offered to drive, as I recall.
Yes, with one eye open.
It meant so much.
She cries a lot.
Usually, and I say this from vast experience, when a newborn cries its for a reason.
Food, water, diaper, mommawhatever.
She squawks for the hell of it.
You dont know what youre missing.
If youll recall, Ive actually walked the floors with Pippin on two occasions.
Yes, and God bless you.
Can you come over tonight?
You guys thought about birth control?
We are beginning to have that conversation.
And now that were on the subject, hows your sex life?
They were going east toward the Atlantic Ocean.
St. Augustine was eight miles ahead.
Lacy finally turned off the radio when Hugo asked, And youve been here before?
Yes, a few years back.
Then boyfriend and I spent a week on the beach in a friends condo.
A lot of sex?
Here we go again.
Is your mind always in the gutter?
Well, come to think of it, the answer has to be yes.
Cant really go back and catch up, you know?
So things are fairly ramped up in my corner; not sure she feels the same way.
Three rug rats and a newborn do serious damage to that intimacy thing.
She glanced at him and smiled.
In her nine years with the Board, she and Hugo had worked a dozen cases together.
Lacy worked with Hugo, but she gossiped and shopped with Verna.
As they entered its outskirts, the traffic slowed and tour buses stopped.
To the right and in the distance, an old cathedral towered above the town.
Lacy remembered it all very well.
The week with the old boyfriend had been a disaster, but she had fond memories of St. Augustine.
One of many disasters.
And who is this mysterious deep throat we are supposed to meet?
Hugo asked, rubbing his eyes once again, now determined to stay awake.
Dont know yet, but his code name is Randy.
But Ive talked to him three times on the phone and he sounds, uh, rather earnest.
When was the last time you talked to a complaining party who didnt sound, uh, rather earnest?
Stick with me, okay?
Michael said go, and were here.
Michael was the director, their boss.
No clue as to the alleged unethical conduct?
Randy said it was big.
Gee, never heard that before.
They turned onto King Street and poked along with the downtown traffic.
Lacy parked on a side street and they joined the tourists.
They found a coffee shop and killed half an hour flipping through glossy real estate brochures.
At noon, as instructed, they walked into Lucas Grill and got a table for three.
They ordered iced tea and waited.
Thirty minutes passed with no sign of Randy, so they ordered sandwiches.
Fries on the side for Hugo, fruit for Lacy.
Eating as slowly as possible, they kept an eye on the door and waited.
As lawyers, they valued their time.
As investigators, they had learned patience.
The two roles were often in conflict.
At 2:00 p.m., they gave up and returned to the car, as smothering as a sauna.
As Lacy turned the key, her cell phone rattled.
She grabbed it and said, Yes.
A male voice said, I asked you to come alone.
I suppose you have the right to ask.
We were supposed to meet at noon, for lunch.
Tell your buddy to get lost and well talk.
Look, Randy, Im not a cop and I dont do cloak-and-dagger very well.
She canceled the call and mumbled, Fair enough.
The marina was busy with pleasure craft and a few fishing boats coming and going.
A long pontoon was unloading a gaggle of noisy tourists.
A restaurant with a patio at the waters edge was still doing a brisk business.
Crews on charter boats were spraying decks and sprucing things up for tomorrows charters.
Lacy walked along the central pier, looking for the face of a man shed never met.
She returned the nod and kept walking.
He was about sixty, with too much gray hair flowing from under a Panama hat.
His eyes were covered by aviator shades.
With a smile he stepped forward and said, You must be Lacy Stoltz.
She took his hand and said, Yes, and you are?
A pleasure to meet you.
We were supposed to meet at noon.
Had a bit of boat trouble.
He nodded down the pier to a large powerboat moored at the end of the dock.
It wasnt the longest boat in the harbor at that moment, but it was close.
Can we talk there?
Its much more private.
Crawling onto a boat with a complete stranger struck her as a bad idea and she hesitated.
Before she could answer, Mix asked, Whos the black guy?
He was looking in the direction of King Street.
Lacy turned and saw Hugo casually following a pack of tourists nearing the marina.
Hes my colleague, she said.
Sort of a bodyguard?
I dont need a bodyguard, Mr.
Were not armed, but my friend there could pitch you into the water in about two seconds.
Lets hope that wont be necessary.
I come in peace.
Thats good to hear.
Ill get on the boat only if it stays where it is.
If the engines start, then our meeting is over.
He stepped on board and offered a hand to help her.
On the deck, under a canvas awning, there was a small wooden table with four folding chairs.
He waved at it and said, Welcome aboard.
Lacy took quick stock of her surroundings.
Without sitting, she said, Are we alone?
Well, not entirely.
I have a friend who enjoys boating with me.
Would you like to meet her?
Only if shes important to your story.
Mix was looking at the marina, where Hugo was leaning on a rail.
Hugo waved, as if to say, Im watching everything.
Mix waved back and said, Can I ask you something?
Sure, Lacy said.
We work together on some cases, maybe this one.
How do you know his name?
I happen to own a computer.
Checked out the website.
BJC really should update it.
His name vaguely rings a bell.
He had a brief career as a football player at Florida State.
Im a Gator fan myself.
Lacy refused to respond to this.
Mix said, So hell know everything?
Ill get us something to drink.
