He pushed in through the door and stood for a moment. Looked left, looked right, and moved in to the lunch counter. Eno came around from the kitchen. The two of them talked quietly. Heads bent together. Then Kliner stood up again. Turned to the door. Stopped and looked left, looked right. Rested his gaze on Roscoe for a second. His face was lean and flat and hard. His mouth was a line carved into it. Then he moved his eyes onto me. I felt like I was being illuminated by a searchlight. His lips parted in a curious smile. He had amazing teeth. Long canines, canted inward, and flat square incisors. Yellow, like an old wolf. His lips closed again and he snapped his gaze away. Pulled the door and crunched over the gravel to his truck. Took off with the roar of a big motor and a spray of small stones.
I watched him go and turned to Roscoe.
`So tell me more about these Kliner people,’ I said.
She still looked edgy.
`Why?’ she said. `We’re fighting for our lives here and you want to talk about the Kliners?’
`I’m looking for information,’ I said. `Kliner’s name crops up everywhere. He looks like an interesting guy. His son is a piece of work. And I saw his wife. She looked unhappy. I’m wondering if all that’s got anything to do with anything.’
She shrugged and shook her head.
`I don’t see how,’ she said. `They’re newcomers, only been here five years. The family made a fortune in cotton processing, generations back, over in Mississippi. Invented some kind of a new chemical thing, some kind of a new formula. Chlorine or sodium something, I don’t know for sure. Made a huge fortune, but they ran into trouble with the EPA over there, you know, about five years ago, pollution or something. There were fish dying all the way down to New Orleans because of dumping into the river.’
`So what happened?’ I asked her.
`Kliner moved the whole plant,’ she said. `The company was his by then. He shut down the whole Mississippi operation and set it up again in Venezuela or somewhere. Then he tried to diversify. He turned up here in Georgia five years ago with this warehouse thing, consumer goods, electronics or something.’
`So they’re not local?’ I said.
`Never saw them before five years ago,’ she said. `Don’t know much about them. But I never heard anything bad. Kliner’s probably a tough guy, maybe even ruthless, but he’s OK as long as you’re not a fish, I guess.’
`So why is his wife so scared?’ I said. Roscoe made a face.
`She’s not scared,’ she said. `She’s sick. Maybe
she’s scared because she’s sick. She’s going to die, right? That’s not Kliner’s fault.’
The waitress arrived with the food. We ate in silence. The portions were huge. The fried stuff was great. The eggs were delicious. This guy Eno had a way with eggs. I washed it all down with pints of coffee. I had the waitress running back and forth with the refill jug.
`Pluribus means nothing at all to you?’ Roscoe asked. `You guys never knew anything about some Pluribus thing? When you were kids?’
I thought hard and shook my head.
`Is it Latin?’ she asked.
`It’s part of the United States’ motto, right?’ I said. `E Pluribus Unum. It means out of many, one. One nation built out of many former colonies.’
`So Pluribus means many?’ she said. `Did Joe know Latin?’
I shrugged.
`I’ve got no idea,’ I said. `Probably. He was a smart guy. He probably knew bits and pieces of Latin. I’m not sure.’
`OK,’ she said. `You got no other ideas at all why Joe was down here?’
`Money, maybe,’ I said. `That’s all I can think of. Joe worked for the Treasury Department, as far as I know. Hubble worked for a bank. Their only thing in common would be money. Maybe we’ll find out from Washington. If we don’t, we’re going to have to start from the beginning.’
`OK,’ she said. `You need anything?’
`I’ll need that arrest report from Florida,’ I said.
`For Sherman Stoller?’ she said. `That’s two years old.’