Jaws by Peter Benchley Read Free Book Online Page B

a beer or two before dinner. Ellen was in the kitchen, still dressed in the pink
    uniform of a hospital volunteer. Her hands were immersed in chopped meat, kneading it into a meat loaf.
    "Hello," she said, turning her head so Brody could plant a kiss on her cheek.
    "What was the crisis?"
    "You were at the hospital. You didn't hear?"
    "No. Today was bathe-the-old-ladies day. I never got off the Ferguson wing."
    "A girl got killed off Old Mill."
    "By what?"
    "A shark." Brody reached into the refrigerator and found a beer. Ellen stopped kneading meat and looked at him. "A shark! I've never heard of that around here. You see one once in a while, but they never do anything."
    "Yeah, I know. It's a first for me, too."
    "So what are you going to do?"
    "Nothing."
    "Really? Is that sensible? I mean, isn't there anything you can do?"
    "Sure, there are some things I could do. Technically. But there's nothing I can actually do. What you and I think doesn't carry much weight around here. The powersthat-be are worried that it won't look nice if we get all excited just because one stranger
    file:///C|/My Documents/Mike's Shit/utilities/books/pdf format/Benchley, Peter - Jaws.txt (18 of 131) [1/18/2001 2:02:21 AM]
    file:///C|/My Documents/Mike's Shit/utilities/books/pdf format/Benchley, Peter - Jaws.txt got killed by a fish. They're willing to take the chance that it was just a freak accident that
    won't happen again. Or, rather, they're willing to let me take the chance, since it's my responsibility."
    "What do you mean, the powers-that-be?"
    "Larry Vaughn, for one."
    "Oh. I didn't realize you had talked to Larry."
    "He came to see me as soon as he heard I planned to dose the beaches. He wasn't what you'd call subtle about telling me he didn't want the beaches closed. He said he'd have my job if I did dose them."
    "I can't believe that, Martin. Larry isn't like that."
    "I didn't think so, either. Hey, by the way, what do you know about his partners?"
    "In the business? I didn't think there were any. I thought Penrose was his middle name, or something like that. Anyway, I thought he owned the whole thing."
    "So did I. But apparently not."
    "Well, it makes me feel better to know you talked to Larry before you made any decision. He tends to take a wider, more over-all view of things than most people. He probably does know what's best."
    Brody felt the blood rise in his neck. He said simply, "Crap." Then he tore the metal tab off his beer can, flipped it into the garbage can, and walked into the living room
    to turn on the evening news.
    From the kitchen Ellen called, "I forgot to tell you: you had a call a little while
    ago."
    "Who from?"
    "He didn't say. He just said to tell you you're doing a terrific lob. It was nice of
    him to call, don't you think?"

Chapter 4
    For the next few days the weather remained clear and unusually calm. The wind came softly, steadily from the southwest, a gentle breeze that rippled the surface of the sea but
    made no whitecaps. There was a crispness to the air only at night, and after days of constant sun, the earth and sand had warmed.
    Sunday was the twentieth of June. Public schools still had a week or more to run before breaking for the summer, but the private schools in New York had already released their charges. Families who owned summer homes in Amity had been coming out for weekends since the beginning of May. Summer tenants whose leases ran from June 15 to September 15 had unpacked and, familiar now with where linen closets were, which cabinets contained good china and which the everyday stuff, and which beds were softer than others, were already beginning to feel at home. By noon, the beach in front of Scotch and Old Mill roads was speckled with people. Husbands lay semi-comatose on beach towels, trying to gain strength from the sun before an afternoon of tennis and the trip back to New York on the Long Island Rail Road's Cannonball. Wives leaned against aluminum backrests, reading Helen MacInnes and