The Payback. Mike Lawson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘Yeah, he plays,’ Mahoney said as he pulled a can of beer from the cooler and popped the top.

      ‘Well since Andy can’t make it, why don’t you play the front nine with us?’ Hathaway said. ‘You ride with me and I’ll tell you what I need while we’re playing.’

      Meaning Hathaway didn’t want to delay his game talking to DeMarco about whatever this odd job was.

      ‘I’m not exactly dressed for it,’ DeMarco said, gesturing at his clothes. DeMarco was wearing a freshly dry-cleaned suit, a white shirt, and his favorite tie. ‘And I don’t have any clubs,’ he added, already knowing that the only excuse that would work was polio.

      ‘Aw, just take off your jacket,’ Mahoney said. ‘It’s fuckin’ golf, not football. And you can share Frank’s clubs. Let’s get goin’.’

      Shit. And he was wearing brand-new loafers and they’d cost him a hundred and fifty bucks on sale.

      ‘Yeah, sounds great,’ DeMarco said. He removed his tie, folded it carefully, and put it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He then took off his suit jacket and placed it neatly in the little basket on the golf cart. Immediately after he did so, Mahoney put the beer cooler in the basket, squashing down his jacket.

      At the first tee he was introduced to Senator Farris. Farris was six foot seven. He had no excess fat on his body and his arms still looked strong enough to rip a rebound out of an opponent’s hands. During his playing days he’d been the team enforcer, the guy they sent into the game to cripple the opposition’s star. Farris’s best shot had been an elbow to the ribs. He had short dark hair with a small bald spot on the top of his head, big ears, a beaky nose, and an expression on his face that seemed far too serious for someone about to play a friendly game of golf.

      Hathaway told Farris that Banks wouldn’t be coming and that DeMarco would be riding with him. ‘That’s good,’ Farris said, ‘because I want Mahoney with me so I can keep an eye on him.’

      ‘Who’s up?’ Mahoney said, ignoring Farris’s comment.

      ‘I mean it, Mahoney,’ Farris said. ‘We’re playing by the rules today. No mulligans, no gimme putts, and no, I repeat no, free kicks outta the rough.’

      ‘Aw,’ Mahoney said, ‘you’re just sore ’cause I kicked your ass last time.’

      ‘You didn’t kick my ass!’ Farris yelled, then immediately looked around to make sure no one had heard him. Lowering his voice he said, ‘You won by one friggin’ stroke and I still think you moved your ball on the tenth hole.’

      ‘Pure bullshit,’ Mahoney said. ‘Now get your skinny butt up there and tee off.’

      Jesus, DeMarco was thinking. And these guys actually run the damn country.

      Farris’s drive found the left side of the fairway two hundred and forty yards from the tee. Mahoney’s tee shot was slightly longer, also ending up on the left edge of the fairway. Hathaway, who didn’t have the bulk of the other two men, hit his shot a respectable two ten and it landed square in the middle of the fairway, as if the Titleist was a wire-guided missile.

      This wasn’t good.

      DeMarco took a couple of practice swings with the driver he’d selected from Hathaway’s bag. The grip on the club didn’t feel right; it was too small for his hand, or something. ‘Uh, you know, I haven’t played in a couple of months,’ DeMarco said.

      ‘Yeah, yeah, come on, come on, take your shot,’ Mahoney said.

      Mahoney was rushing the game and DeMarco suspected that this was a tactic to defeat Farris. Mahoney was never in a hurry. Ever. He did whatever he was doing at a pace that suited him. At his level, the next meeting didn’t start until he got there.

      DeMarco swung. He made good contact. It felt good. It sounded good. And the ball sliced so far to the right that it ended up on the adjacent fairway.

      ‘Christ, Joe,’ Mahoney said. ‘You play that way, we’ll be here all day.’

      As Hathaway drove the golf cart over to find DeMarco’s ball, he said, ‘It’s my nephew, my sister’s kid. He’s an engineer and he works at this navy shipyard. The thing is, he thinks some guys out there are committing fraud.’

      ‘What kind of fraud?’

      ‘I’m not too clear on that,’ Hathaway said. ‘Something to do with some kind of bogus study and the people doing it overcharging the government. Dave, my nephew, he tried to tell his bosses what was going on, but according to my sister, they blew him off. Which is why she called me, all pissed, demanding I do something. Where the hell’d your ball go, Joe? I know it’s in these trees somewhere.’

      DeMarco topped the ball on his next shot and it went about twenty yards. It was Hathaway’s midget-sized irons, that’s what the problem was. He hit a third shot and he was finally on the fairway – the right fairway.

      ‘So anyway,’ Hathaway said, when they were back in the cart, ‘I’d just like you to check the kid’s story out and tell me if he’s really onto something. John says you’ve done stuff like this before and I wouldn’t think this would be all that hard.’

      ‘I’ve been involved with whistle-blowers before but, well …’

      ‘Yes, Joe?’

      ‘Well, why don’t you just call up somebody who works for you and ask them to look into it?’

      Before Hathaway could respond there was a commotion across the fairway. Farris was yelling at Mahoney, pointing a long finger at something on the ground at Mahoney’s feet. Mahoney had probably claimed that his ball was on the concrete cart path and the rules allowed him to move it. Whether his ball had actually been on the cart path was most likely Farris’s issue.

      ‘Jesus,’ Hathaway said, shaking his head. ‘Those guys are so damn competitive they take the fun out of the game. And Mahoney, well, I think he does bend the rules a bit.’

      No shit, DeMarco thought.

      ‘You were asking why I didn’t have somebody in my chain of command investigate this thing,’ Hathaway said. ‘The problem is, I’m the Secretary of the Navy, Joe. If I told my people to look into it, even if I told them to be discreet, in two hours there’d be twenty NCIS agents running around that shipyard questioning every swinging dick who works there. I don’t want to cause that kind of ruckus based on a phone call from my sister. And, well, to tell you the truth, there’s something else.’ Hathaway turned and looked away for a moment as if telling the truth bothered him. ‘You see, both my sister and her kid – it must be genetic – they both tend to be a little, ah, dramatic.’

      Now this was starting to make sense. Hathaway didn’t trust his nephew and if he launched an official investigation based on a tip from a relative and the relative turned out to be wrong, Hathaway would be doubly embarrassed.

      ‘I see,’ DeMarco said.

      ‘So just check this out quietly. Okay?’ Hathaway said. ‘Go talk to my nephew and see what he says. Interview these guys he’s complaining about. If it turns out that there’s something to what he’s saying, I’ll have facts from СКАЧАТЬ