"I said, QUIET!"
" 'Fraid you might learn somethin'?" Tuck spit ferociously. Didn't none of them understand? He felt like jumping up on his chair and shouting, "Dumb shits! Don't tell me. I'm the one lived it!" Instead, he noticed Ford at the far edge of the crowd, and called out, "Marion! Hey, Marion! Now you see what I'm up against?" before he suddenly felt so woozy that he had to quick sit down. Otherwise, he'd've collapsed right there in the grass.
Marion?
Londecker heard the crazy old cracker yell the name once, twice, before he picked out the man Gatrell was calling to: big blond-haired man with wire glasses, standing off by himself. Dressed more like a fishing guide than a scientist, but how many people named Marion could there be?
"I'll adjourn this meeting right now and leave the record as it stands! Order!"
Holding his anger in check, hoping the television cameras and the reporters recorded how professionally he was behaving despite all the noise. Londecker took a nervous glance toward the van. Margaret Faillo was still inside it, staying cool, but Connie Dirosa was right there beside him, neutral, showing no emotion, watching to see whether he could regain control of the meeting.
He had to do something, and do it quick.
That goddamn old man! I'll turn his house into a staff bungalow, and I'll spend the holidays there myself!
Londecker rapped the table three more times, then stood. "Mr. Gatrell has made a very good point. I'm saying-I agree with him."
There, that got their attention.
Londecker waited, then said it again. "I agree! I think we've heard enough from the proponents." He fixed an expression on his face that he imagined to be a kindly smile, allowing the silence around him to build. "We're all hot. Maybe a little irritable. And some of the testimony about why this land should be protected has been repetitive-though very compelling, I think."
"You can kiss my butt on the county square, Londecker!"
Tucker Gatrell yelling from his chair.
Londecker forced himself to laugh along with the others, a dry little chuckle, before he replied, "I'm not sure I'll have the energy, Mr. Gatrell, the way these mosquitoes are draining me."
Which got an even bigger laugh.
Londecker caught Connie Dirosa's eyes,- felt new confidence when she nodded her approval.
That quick, Londecker was back in control. He decided to continue the exchange with the old man,- let people see just how kind and fair he could be. "How about this, Mr. Gatrell? How about we allow one more speaker. With a time limit-say ten minutes, tops. Then we take a short break, and the rest of the afternoon is yours. All the time you want."
Couldn't help but take pleasure in the way the old man fidgeted in his seat.
I've got you now, you bastard.
In front of Connie was a blank notepad. Londecker picked it up and pretended to read it. "Is there a Marion Ford here? A Dr. Marion Ford?"
Which won him another nod of approval from the chunky little Cuban. She mouthed the word smart as she patted his leg under the table-well, he'd give her a chance to do that and more after the hearing.
Still pretending to read, Londecker said, "I have a note here that says Dr. Ford would like to speak. Dr. Ford? Ah!" He waited until the big man made his way through the crowd before adding, "I don't think we've ever met before, have we?"
The man had a soft baritone voice, not shy, but talked in a way that forced people to listen. "I'm certain we haven't."
"Are you with one of the groups here? Political-action groups such as the Save Our Everglades-" "No. I'm here independently."
"Would you mind reading your credentials into the record?" Then Londecker sat back to listen, wondering mildly why any American would take a masters at the University of San Marcos in Lima and a doctorate at the University of Durban in South Africa. Mostly, though, Londecker tried to ferret out the connection between Gatrell and a marine biologist- Marion! Now you see what I'm up against! -and hit upon a scenario. Gatrell had sold property to a land trust, and the land trust had probably hired its own environmental census team; would probably try to work out its own deal with the state. Donate X number of acres of property to the park in return for permits to build on abutting property. Property on a park boundary would double, maybe quadruple in value. That was it! It wouldn't be the first time a developer helped the state ramrod through a park project. Gatrell was being duped!
Londecker said, "You have ten minutes, Dr. Ford." Then, as the man began to speak, Londecker jotted a note to Connie Dirosa: "I don't want Margaret to miss this!"
"My name is Marion Ford, and I'd like to read into the record a report from Tampa Environmental Laboratories Incorporated…"
NINETEEN
Connie Dirosa gave it some time. Sat there patiently while Alex Londecker, the sneaky little brownnoser, nudged her, tapping repeatedly at the note he had scribbled. Folded her hands calmly on the table and listened to the man, Dr. Ford, speak in a scholarly monotone: "… water samples were taken from property owned, or formerly owned, by Mr. Tucker Gatrell-the legal description's in the report, which I'll leave with the panel."
Tried not to smile when Londecker, in his pompous, official way, interrupted. "These water samples-the water tested, I mean. Are you indicating that it is the same water Mr. Gatrell is selling as a sort of magic elixir?" Only to have the old man's attorney leap to his feet, calling, "I object to that, Mr. Londecker. The phrase 'magic elixir' is not only prejudicial; it is wildly inaccurate."
Heard Londecker backpedaclass="underline" "I would remind Judge Flowers that this is a public hearing, not a court hearing. But because the state wants to be absolutely fair, I'll ask Mrs. Ibach to strike my remark from the record."
The man, Dr. Ford, stood quietly until the two were finished before continuing. "Even so, it's the same water. Samples were taken from the artesian well, and also from a sump-pump site near the barn"-Ford pointed, and people craned their necks to see, still listening to him-"in a procedure that is noted in the report, which, as I said, I will leave with you."
"Tampa Labs is state-accredited," Londecker said helpfully. "We've used them ourselves. I certainly don't question their procedures."
Dirosa decided to wait and make sure that the man was actually going to read from the report.
"The analyses indicate that the water is normal in terms of mineral content-that is, normal in terms of water found in the Floridan aquifer. It is significantly supersaturated with calcite, dolomite, and contains, as well, other chemicals, such as potassium and magnesium, all of which are necessary to normal human biological functioning. In fact, as electrolytes used by the brain, such trace minerals are essential."
Londecker said, "Huh-?" as Gatrell also stood and yelled, "See how healthy it is? And only ten bucks a bottle!"
Dirosa wondered, What's this guy trying to pull?
But then Ford said, "Of particular interest, though, are the results of EPA test two fifty-four, EPA test two fifty-five and EPA test six twenty-four. Tests for specific contaminants," and Dirosa began to relax again.
"The results show that the water sampled drastically and dangerously exceeds state and federal standards of five parts per billion when tested for benzene, toluene, dieldrin. A variety of pesticides, herbicides, and petroleum contaminants exceeded twenty parts per billion…"
As the man actually began to read the test results, Connie Dirosa gave Londecker a sharp nudge of her own, then left the table. She walked slowly, taking her time, heading toward the state van.
Margaret Faillo was inside, using her briefcase as a table, doing office work, when Dirosa tapped on the window. Fallio folded her bifocals, stepped out, and closed the door behind her so the other secretary, Mrs. Cullum, could not hear.