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From beneath the lumber； the woman said： 〃Shit； Snapper。〃 The man shot her a glare； then looked away。
Tony Torres said： 〃I'm in the business of figuring people out quick。 That's what a good salesman does。 And if she's your sister； sport； then I'm twins with Mel Gibson。〃
The man with the crooked jaw shrugged。
〃Point is；〃 Tony said； 〃she ain't really hurt。 You ain't really her brother。 And whatever fucked…up plan you had for ripping me off is now officially terminated。〃
The man scowled bitterly。 〃Hey； it was her idea。〃
Tony ordered him to lift the wooden trusses off his partner。 When the woman got up； the salesman noticed she was both attractive and intelligent…looking。 He motioned with the shotgun。
〃Both of you e inside。 Hell； inside is pretty much outside； thanks to that goddamn storm。 But e in； anyhow； 'cause I'd love to hear your story。 I could use a laugh。〃
The woman smoothed the front of her dress。 〃We made a bad mistake。 Just let us go； OK？〃
Tony Torres smiled。 〃That's funny； darling。〃 He swung the Remington toward the house and pulled the trigger。 The blast tore a hole the size of a soccer ball in the garage door。
〃Hush；〃 said the drunken salesman； cupping a hand to one ear。 〃Hear that？ Dead fucking silence。 Shoot off a twelve…gauge and nobody cares。 Nobody es to see。 Nobody es to help。 Know why？ Because of the hurricane。 The whole place is a madhouse！〃
The man with the crooked jaw asked； more out of curiosity than concern： 〃What is it you want with us？〃
〃I haven't decided；〃 said Tony Torres。 〃Let's have a drinkypoo。〃
A week before the hurricane； Felix Mojack died of a viper bite to the ankle。 Ownership of his failing wildlife…import business passed to a nephew； Augustine。 On the rainy morning he learned of his uncle's death； Augustine was at home practicing his juggling。 He had all the windows open； and the Black Crowes playing on the stereo。 He was barefoot and wore only a pair of royal…blue gym shorts。 He stood in the living room； juggling in time to the music。 The objects that he juggled were human skulls； he was up to five at once。 The faster Augustine juggled； the happier he was。
On the kitchen table was an envelope from Paine Webber。 It contained a check for 21；344。55。 Augustine had no need for or interest in the money。 He was almost thirty…two years old； and his life was as simple and empty as one could be。 Sometimes he deposited the Paine Webber dividends； and sometimes he mailed them off to charities； renegade political candidates or former girlfriends。 Augustine sent not a penny to his father's defense lawyers； that was the old man's debt； and he could damn well settle it when he got out of prison。
Augustine's juggling was a private diversion。 The skulls were artifacts and medical specimens he'd acquired from friends。 When he had them up in the air… three； four； five skulls arcing fluidly from hand to hand… Augustine could feel the full rush of their faraway lives。 It was inexplicably and perhaps unwholesomely exhilarating。 Augustine didn't know their names； or how they'd lived or died； but from touching them he drew energy。
In his spare time Augustine read books and watched television and hiked what was left of the Florida wilderness。 Even before he became wealthy…when he worked on his father's fishing boat； and later in law school Augustine nursed an unspecific anger that he couldn't trace and wasn't sure he should。 It manifested itself in the occasional urge to burn something down or blow something up…a high…rise； a new interstate highway； that sort of thing。
Now that Augustine had both the time and the money； he found himself without direction for these radical sentiments； and with no trustworthy knowledge of heavy explosives。 Out of guilt； he donated large sums to respectable causes such as the Sierra Club and the Nature Conservancy。 His ambition to noble violence remained a harmless fantasy。 Meanwhile he bobbed through life's turbulence like driftwood。
The near…death experience that made Augustine so rich had given him zero insight into a grand purpose or cosmic destiny。 Augustine barely remembered the damn Beechcraft going down。 Certainly he saw no blinding white light at the end of a cool tunnel； heard no dead relatives calling to him from heaven。 All he recalled of the a that followed the accident was an agonizing and unquenchable thirst。
After recovering from his injuries； Augustine didn't return to the hamster…wheel routine of law school。 The insurance settlement financed a fortable aimlessness that many young men would have found appealing。 Yet Augustine was deeply unhappy。 One night； in a fit of depression； he violently purged his bookshelves of all genius talents who had died too young。 This included his treasured Jack London。
Typically； Augustine was waiting for a woman to e along and fix him。 So far； it hadn't happened。
One time a dancer whom Augustine was dating caught him juggling his skulls in the bedroom。 She thought it was a stunt designed to provoke a reaction。 She told him it wasn't funny； it was perverted。 Then she moved to New York。 A year or so later； for no particular reason； Augustine sent the woman one of his dividend checks from Paine Webber。 She used the money to buy a Toyota Supra and sent Augustine a snapshot of herself； smiling and waving in the driver's seat。 Augustine wondered who'd taken the picture and what he'd thought of the new car。
Augustine had no brothers and sisters； his mother was in Nevada and his father was in the slammer。 The closest relative was his uncle Felix Mojack； the wildlife importer。 As a boy； Augustine often visited his uncle's small cluttered farm out in the boondocks。 It was more fun than going to the zoo； because Felix let Augustine help with the animals。 In particular； Felix encouraged his nephew to familiarize himself with exotic snakes； as Felix himself was phobic （and； it turned out； fatally inpetent） when it came to handling reptiles。
After Augustine grew up； he saw less and less of his busy uncle。 Progress conspired against Felix； development swept westward； and zoning regulations forced him to move his operation repeatedly。 Nobody； it seemed； wished to build elementary schools or shopping malls within walking distance of caged jungle cats and wild cobras。 The last time Felix Mojack was forced to relocate his animals； Augustine gave him ten thousand dollars for the move。
At the time of Felix's death； the farm inventory listed one male African lion； three cougars； a gelded Cape buffalo； two Kodiak bears； ninety…seven parrots and macaws； eight Nile crocodiles； forty…two turtles； seven hundred assorted lizards； ninety…three snakes （venomous and nonvenomous） and eighty…eight rhesus monkeys。
The animals were kept on a nine…acre spread off Krome Avenue； not far from the federal prison。 The day after the funeral； Augustine drove out to the place alone。 He had a feeling that his uncle ran a loose operation； and a tour of the facility corroborated his suspicion。 The fencing was buckled and rusty； the cages needed new hinges； and the concrete reptile pits hadn't been drained and cleane