dividually briefed him on the importance of the Guadalajara mission。 Success； Max knew； would guarantee a long and lucrative career at the agency。 A home run； is how one of the honchos had put it。 Turning the old man around would be a grand…slam homer in the bottom of the ninth。 Clyde Nottage was one crusty old prick。
A cab took Max Lamb to the Aragon Clinic； a two…story stucco building； freshly painted and lushly landscaped； in a residential sub…division of the city。 The lobby of the clinic showed evidence of recent remodeling； which unfortunately had not included central air。 Max loosened his necktie and took a seat。 On a glass table was a stack of informational pamphlets printed in Spanish。 Curious； Max picked one up。 On the first page was a drawing of a male sheep with an arrow pointing between its hind legs。
Max returned the pamphlet to the table。 He wanted a smoke； but a sign on the wall said 〃No Fumar。〃 A drop of sweat rolled down his jawline。 Max dabbed it away with a handkerchief。
A man wearing a white medical coat came out； a pale…eyed American in his mid…sixties。 He introduced himself as Dr Caulk； Mr。 Nottage's physician。
〃When may I see him？〃 Max Lamb asked。
〃In a few minutes。 He's finishing his treatment。〃
〃How's he doing？〃
〃Better； by and large；〃 said Dr Caulk； enigmatically。
The chat turned to the clinic； and cancer。 The doctor asked Max Lamb if he was a smoker。
〃Just started。〃
〃Started？〃 The doctor looked incredulous。
〃Long story；〃 Max said。
〃Mister Nottage smokes four packs a day。〃
〃I'd heard six。〃
〃Oh； we've got him down to four；〃 said the doctor。 He gave the impression it was a contest of wills。
Max Lamb inquired about the unusual nature of the tumor treatments。 Dr Caulk took full credit。
〃We're really onto something；〃 he told Max。 〃So far； the results have been quite astounding。〃
〃What made you think to try 。。。 you know…〃
〃Sheep semen？〃 Dr Caulk gave a wise smile。 〃Actually it's quite an interesting story。〃
As Max Lamb listened； he wondered if the deepening consternation showed on his face。 The Caulk therapy was based entirely upon the casual observation that male sheep have a low incidence of lung cancer。
〃paredto。。。 ？〃
The doctor slyly wagged a finger at Max。 〃Now you sound just like the PDA。〃 He folded his hands and leaned forward。 〃I suppose you're curious about how we collect the semen。〃
〃Not in the slightest；〃 said Max； forcefully。
A mountainous nurse appeared at the doctor's shoulder。 She said Mr。 Nottage's afternoon treatment was pleted。 Dr Caulk took Max to the old man's room。
Outside the door； the doctor dropped his voice。 〃I'll leave you two alone。 Lately he's been a bit cranky with me。〃
Max Lamb had met Clyde Nottage Jr only once before； on a golf course in Raleiglj。 The robust； fiery； blue…eyed curmudgeon that he remembered bore no resemblance to the gaunt； gray…skinned invalid in the hospital bed。
Until Clyde Nottage opened his mouth： 〃The hell you staring at； boy？〃
Max pulled a chair to the side of the bed。 He sat down and positioned the briefcase on his lap。
〃Gimme cigaret；〃 Nottage muttered。
As Max inserted a Bronco in the old man's bloodless lips； he said； 〃Sir； did the doctor tell you I was ing？ How are you feeling？〃
Nottage ignored him。 He plucked the cigaret from his mouth and eyed it ruefully。 〃What they say is true； all true。 About these goddamn things causing cancer。 I know it's a fact。 So do you。 So does the goddamn guv'ment。〃
Max Lamb was uneasy。 〃It's a choice people make；〃 he said。
Nottage laughed； a tubercular snuffle。 With a shaky hand he returned the cigaret to his mouth。 Max lit it for him。
The old man said； 〃They got you trained good。 Look at me； boy…you heard about the sheep jizz？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃I got a tumor the size of a Cuban mango in my chest； and I'm down to sheep jizz。 My last earthly hope。〃
〃The doctor said…〃
〃Oh； fuck him。〃 Nottage paused to suck defiantly on the Bronco。 〃You're here about the ads； right？ Rodale sent you to change my mind。〃
〃Sir； the NIH report was news…bad news； to be sure。 But they were only doing their jobs； the newspapers and magazines。 They had to print the story； it was all over television…〃
Clyde Nottage laughed until his nose ran。 He wiped it with a hairless withered forearm。 〃Christ； you missed the point。 They all did。〃
The old man's jocular tone gave Max a false burst of hope。
〃I yanked those damn ads；〃 Nottage went on； 〃because I was pissed。 That much is true。 But I wasn't mad they published the cancer report。〃
〃Then why？〃
An inch of dead ash fell from the old man's cigaret onto the sheets。 He tried to blow it away； but the exertion of laughing had sapped him； his lungs moaned under the strain。 After regaining his breath； he said： 〃The real reason I was pissed； they're fuckin' hypocrites。 They tell the whole world we peddle poison； put it on the front page。 Yet they're delighted to take our money and advertise that very saame poison。 Greedy cocksuckin hypocrites； and you may quote me to the boys in New York。〃
Max Lamb realized the conversation had taken a perilous turn。 He said； 〃It's just business； sir。〃
〃Well； it's a business I'm gettin' out of。 Right now。 Before I leave this sorry world。〃
Max waited for a punch line that didn't e。 He felt a quaking in his bowels。
Clyde Nottage deposited the smoldering Bronco butt in a plastic cup of orange juice。 〃As of this morning； Durham Gas Meat & Tobacco is Durham Gas Meat。〃
〃Please；〃 Max Lamb blurted。 〃Wait on this； please。 You're not feeling well enough to make such an important decision。〃
〃I'm dying； yoir fucking idiot。 Three times a day some nurse looks like Pancho Villa shoots sheep cum into my belly。 Damn right I don't feel well。 Gimme Kleenex。〃
Max handed him a box of tissues from the bed tray。 Nottage snatched one and hacked fiercely into it。
〃Mister Nottage； I urge you not to do anything right now。〃
〃Hell； it's already done。 Made the call this morning。〃 Nottage spit again。 He opened the tissue and examined the contents with a clinical eye。 〃Last time I checked； I still had fifty…one percent of the pany stock。 You wasted a perfectly good airplane ticket； boy。 The decision's made。〃
Max Lamb； queasy with despair； began to protest。 Nottage hunched forward； cupped his palms to his face and broke into a volcanic spasm of coughing。
Max jumped away from the bed。 〃Shall I get Dr Caulk？〃
The old man gazed into his hands and said； 〃Oh shit。〃
Max edged closer。 〃Are you all right？〃
〃Considering I'm holding a piece of my own goddamn lung。〃
〃God！〃 Max turned away。
〃Who knows；〃 the old man mused； 〃it might be worth something someday。 Put it in the Smithsonian； like Dillinger's dick。〃
He drew back his frail right arm and lobbed the rancid chunk of tissue at the wall； where it hung like a gob of salsa。
Max Lamb bolted from the room。 Moments later； Clyde Nottage Jr put his head on the pillow and died with a merry wheeze。 The expression on his face was purely triumphant。
Dennis Reedy possessed an inner radar for potential trouble。 His legendary instincts had saved Midwest Casualty many millions of dollars over the years； so his services as a claims supervisor were prized at the home office in Omaha。 Reedy was an obvious choice to lead the Hurricane Crisis Team： South Florida was the insurance…scam capital of the nation； and Reedy knew the territory inside and out。
His radar went on full alert at 15600 Calusa Drive。 The injury to the man's jaw was old； and healed。 But there was another prospective problem。
〃Mister Torres；〃 Reedy said； 〃how'd you hurt that leg？〃
Annoyed； the man looked up from the BarcaLounger。 〃It was the storm；〃 he said。
Reedy turned stiffly to Fred Dove。 〃You didn't mention this。〃
〃They're not filing a claim on the injury。〃
Reedy suppressed the urge to guffaw in young Fred Dove's face。 Antonio Torres was a textbook profile of a nuisance claimant。 He was disfigured； morose and unsociable…precisely the sort of malcontent who'd have no qualms about defrauding an insurance pany。 The notion might not have occurred to Torres yet； but it would。
Dennis Reedy asked him how the accident had happened。 Mr。 Torres shot a look at Mrs。 Torres； standing next to Fred Dove。 Reedy detected nervous animosity in the husband's expression。
Mr。 Torres began to speak； but his wife cut in to answer： 〃Tony got hit by a roof beam。〃
〃Oh？〃
〃While he was walking the dogs。 Down the end of the street。〃
Fred Dove smiled inwardly with relief。 Boy； she was good。 And quick！
Reedy said； 〃So the accident didn't happen here on the property？〃
〃No；〃 replied Edie Marsh； 〃but I wish it did。 Then we'd know who to sue。〃
They all chuckled； except Snapper。 He stared contemptuously at the emblem of a growling badger； stitched to the breast of Dennis Reedy's corporate blazer。
〃I hope you don't mind my asking about the accid