THE GLORY BUS 9 страница

Norman thought: Gun!

That was when he brought both feet stomping down on the brake. The car screamed. Slid sideways. The driver in pursuit wrestled with his vehicle’s wheel to stop from slamming into the back of Norman’s car.

Norman watched as the police car roared past. The driver swung out to avoid Norman’s vehicle that was still skidding sideways along the pavement.

Norman watched.

As the police car flipped out. Turning over into the culvert in a flurry of sparks and exhaust smoke. He even heard its engine scream as the vehicle became a ball of flame that raced along the water channel. The cruiser eventually slid to a stop, a burning ruin. Containing one dead police officer.

Norman’s car came to a halt. Its engine idled. The sudden near-silence made Norman dizzy.

‘Hey, man. ’ Duke was impressed. ‘You’re a cop-killing machine. I never knew you had it in you. ’

Boots leaned forward, and put her arms around Norman from behind and kissed his cheek. A wet kiss that felt cold as reptile spit against his burning skin. ‘Norman. You’re my hero. ’

For a moment Norman watched the burning police cruiser send balls of oily black smoke into the night sky.

Then he said, ‘We’ve got to go where they’ll never find us. ’

Light on the gas pedal now, Norman drove away from the burning police car.

Chapter Eighteen

Norman moaned.

Moaned as he drove.

Moaned as his sore eyes stared at what was revealed by the car’s lights. Passing trees, road signs, roadkill, diners, gas stations, a lonesome truck hauling timber at two in the morning.

‘Ohhh. . . what have I done? Jesus, what have I done? ’

‘You’ve done two cops, that’s what you’ve done, ’ Duke told him as he combed back his Elvis quiff.

‘Did you see how the first guy’s head burst – pop! – on the windshield? ’ Boots sounded excited rather than appalled.

I’m in a car with two crazies, Norman thought. Two crazed killers. Gotta get out.

But.

I’m a crazed killer too. I just killed a pair of cops. But I’m pro Cop! I’m pro Law and Order.

‘Oh my God, ’ he groaned. ‘What have I done? ’

‘I can drive, old buddy. ’ Duke sounded concerned. ‘You need to relax. ’

‘Yeah, ’ Boots cooed. ‘Come and rest up in the back here with me. ’

‘No. I’ve gotta get away from here. The cops will be looking for us. ’

‘Yeah, ’ Boots breathed. ‘You cracked one like a nut, then toasted the other. ’

‘Wicked. ’ Duke nodded.

‘Oh. . . oh. . . ’ Boots suddenly pounded Norman’s shoulder. She was breathless. She was on a high over the violence. ‘Norman. Pull over. Pull over! ’

‘What? ’

‘Pull over just here. Oh. . . ’

‘What’s wrong? ’

‘Nothing. ’

‘But we’ve gotta get away from here. Cops will be crawling over the roads. They’ll shoot to kill. ’

‘Ain’t that always the way? ’ Duke observed.

‘But please, Norman. You’ve got to pull over. I’ve gotta do something, otherwise my panties will go pop. ’

‘You need to pee? ’

‘No. ’

‘The other thing? ’

‘No. ’

Norman’s mind swum as streetlights flicked past the car. What’s gotten into Boots? Crazy woman. Crazy pig-woman. With bulging thighs and heaving breasts. Christ, I think I’m going to faint. . .

‘Norman, pull over. Please. ’

Duke said, ‘Aren’t you going to oblige the lady? ’

Norman hardly knew what he was doing anymore. Guilt rolled over him in tidal waves. He could only think of the officers he’d killed. Their families? Oh Christ, their families. . .

The moment he stopped the car Boots almost threw herself out of the vehicle. The road was deserted. Here was countryside. No houses.

Maybe she needs to puke?

Wish I could puke. Get all this guilt out of me. . .

Duke said, ‘Best kill the lights until she’s done. ’

Done what?

Norman turned as Boots dragged the driver’s door open.

What on earth is she doing?

Norman stared at her as she stood panting. Her breasts jiggling as she inhaled mightily. ‘Boots? ’ he asked.

‘Duke? ’

‘Boots? ’

‘Duke. You watch or not. I don’t care. ’

‘What ya planning, girl? ’

Boots gasped like she’d run a marathon. ‘Sweet Mary. I’ve never been so turned on. Watching Norman kill those cops and all. I got fire in my veins. ’

Norman watched her in a daze. What was that woman on?

‘Norman. You’ve gotta let me do this for you. You’ve gotta. I’ll die if you don’t. ’

‘Boots? ’

She pounced as though she was ravenous and couldn’t stop herself. Hands fumbling like crazy, she unbuckled Norman’s belt, unzippered him. Then her hot hands gripped his penis and tugged it like she was strangling a snake.

‘Not now, ’ Norman protested. ‘Jesus. The cops will be. . . ah. . . ah! ’

To his horror, despite the wholesale bloody mania of the last few hours, despite the craziness of Boots doing this at such a god-awful inappropriate time he felt himself stiffen beneath her stubby fingers as she worked at him.

‘Oh, Norman, ’ Duke said, appreciatively. ‘Reckon your birthday just came early. ’

‘Duke, ’ Boots panted. ‘Be a gentleman. Shut yer eyes. ’

‘What? And miss the show? No way. ’

‘Suit yourself. ’ Then she went to work on Norman.

Norman drove. The night starless. The surrounding countryside just a blackness.

Empty.

Something strange happened to him inside. He could feel it working up through his stomach into his chest. Then it shot out from his mouth; he clenched his fists around the buckled steering wheel.

‘Norman? ’ Duke looked at him from the passenger seat.

‘You okay? ’ Boots asked from the back seat. She sounded anxious.

The noise coming out from his mouth was getting louder. . . LOUDER. . .

The noise was terrible. Electrifying. Some part of him recoiled in horror.

Then he knew what it was. He was whooping. A real cowboy yodel. Sheer exhilaration.

Exultation.

‘Ya – hoo! ’ he hollered. ‘We did it! We really did it! ’

‘Yeah. ’ Duke sounded puzzled. ‘We did it, Norm. ’

Norman whooped again and it turned into a laugh he’d never laughed before. A full-blooded manly laugh. A laugh that belonged to football stars, lumberjacks, burly Marines, pro-wrestlers. . . you name it. Macho, macho, macho.

‘I am a MAN! ’

Boots and Duke must have been staring at him, wondering if he’d lost his mind.

‘I’M A MAN! ’

‘Never doubted it, ’ Duke said.

‘Tonight. For the first time: I’ve fucked a woman. I’ve killed two men. ’ Norman whooped again through the open driver’s window. He felt stronger than Superman. Cooler than James Dean. Meaner than Satan. Cuter than Johnny Depp. ‘I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD! ’

He floored the gas pedal. The car roared into the night. And toward whatever waited tomorrow.

Chapter Nineteen

Pamela woke the next morning feeling full of life. The clock radio told her it was 10: 34.

Slept late.

But then, sleep heals.

Not only had her feet quit hurting, she felt renewed emotionally. She knew that her husband was dead; she was a widow at twenty-three, but she no longer believed that she’d go

insane with grief. She wasn’t immune to that grief, but this was the time to start dealing with it.

Mosby’s trailer looked good in the bright Californian sunlight pouring through the windows. Clean, comfortably furnished, it radiated a homely charm. She went to the closet. Instead of old-man clothes (surely Mosby was the old man pictured with the marlin), there were T-shirts in bright colors – a red, a blue, a green, a lemon. Also, there were clean pairs of shorts neatly folded on the shelf. New underwear, too.

Lauren or Nicki must have put them there. . . Nicki! Pamela suddenly remembered last night when Nicki had massaged the oil into her feet. She remembered the woman’s slick fingers soothing her damaged skin. Then she’d fallen asleep.

And woken to see Nicki rubbing her naked breasts against Pamela’s feet.

What do I say when I see Nicki? How do I look her in the eye?

Say nothing.

You dreamed it.

Had to have done.

Face it. You were exhausted. You’d nearly been killed. Jim had been murdered by the psycho Rodney. You were mixed up. You couldn’t differentiate between dreams and reality. Face it, girl, in those circumstances who could?

Quickly, she showered, using a fruit shampoo that smelled wonderfully of strawberries. Then she dressed in a lemon T-shirt and white shorts. Whoever had thoughtfully provided the clothes had also left pairs of sandals in the bottom of the closet. They were different sizes but at last she chose some delicate brown leather sandals that had criss-cross strapwork across her feet. These fitted just perfectly.

It’s like Goldilocks and the three bears, Pamela thought. Now all I need to find are three bowls of porridge – one too salty, one too sweet, and one just right. She spent some time in front of a mirror, running a brush through her hair. A solid silver one, hallmarked, and with the initials CJ elegantly etched into the back. The brush felt so good that she lavished more strokes on herself than she would normally. The light coming through the window made her hair shine like gold.

I shouldn’t look this good.

Shouldn’t feel this good.

Not with Jim lying zippered in a body bag in a morgue. If there was a body after the fire. If it wasn’t reduced to—

Before the tsunami of tears came Pamela left the trailer at a run.

Immediately, she saw Hank.

He hailed her and lifted his richly stained hat. ‘Mornin’, ma’am. I figure you might be rushing to see my Dillinger Death Car, but I’ve bin told to point you in yonder direction. ’ He nodded toward the cafe. ‘They’ve a nice plate of vittles waiting for ya. ’

She blinked back the tears and smiled. ‘Thank you. And good morning to you. But I don’t know if I’m hungry. ’

‘Good eating, my young lovely. ’

‘I never bother with much. Just toast and juice. ’

‘Haw! Breakfast’s most important meal of the day. ’ He rubbed his whiskery old-timer jaw. The red nose quivered like it had a life of its own. ‘Then lunch, dinner and supper come a close second. ’

‘I might rest up in the trailer for a while. ’

‘You got the Mosby place. Mighty fine trailer. ’

‘I like it. ’

‘He always took pride in the thing. He brought the sofa all the way from Tucson. ’

‘I slept on it last night. ’

‘Work of art it is. ’

‘Don’t let me keep you from your work. ’

‘Nothing that’ll spoil for keepin’. ’ Hank settled the hat back on his head again. ‘Don’t forget that breakfast. ’

‘I’m not hungry. ’

‘If it’s not food you’re after, then there’s good company. ’

Pamela looked across at the cafe. A couple of trucks had been parked outside. She thought about Lauren and Nicki. She smiled.

‘Yes, company would be fine right now. Thanks. ’

‘Don’t mention it. ’

As she started to walk through the hot desert sun to the cafe Hank called after her. ‘Now, don’t you go forgettin’ the tour. See all of Pits with yours truly. There’s plenty more to the place that meets the eye. ’

Pamela walked into the cafe. Straight away the aromas of bacon and coffee hit her.

Oh boy, that does smell good. She realized she did have an appetite after all. The booths were empty but three guys in denim sat at the counter tucking into plates piled high with food. These had to be the truckers that belonged to the two vehicles outside. Well, two drivers plus mate. They were too busy eating for talking.

For a moment Pamela stood by a table, wondering if she’d blush when she saw Nicki. Instead Lauren breezed from the back. She wore a gypsy-style white blouse with embroidered lapels. To that she’d added a flowing skirt in cool cotton covered with a flower pattern. Definitely the fashion spirit of ’69. Lauren smiled warmly when she saw Pamela.

‘Good morning, Pamela. Sleep well? ’

‘Incredibly well. You must have something in this desert air. ’

‘Well, whatever it is, it’s free. ’

‘Is Nicki here? ’

‘Sure. She’s out back. Shall I call her for you? ’

‘Oh no, don’t bother her if she’s busy. ’

‘Right, first things first. What can I get you to eat? ’

‘Normally, for me it’s toast and—’

‘Not on my watch, buster. ’ Lauren smiled. ‘Grab a table. Let me surprise you. ’

‘Thank you. ’

‘Coffee? ’

‘That’d be lovely. ’

‘I’ll bring orange juice and water, too. You soon get a thirst in Pits. ’

‘Lauren? ’

‘Yes? ’

‘I have to tell the police what happened. About Rodney. And what he did to Jim. ’

‘Course you must, honey. ’

‘There’s a telephone I can use? ’

‘Not in Pits, I’m afraid. We lost the cable in a rock fall a couple of months ago. ’

‘The phone company hasn’t repaired it? ’

‘Low priority. We don’t make enough calls to make it profitable. ’

‘But what happens when you need to make a call? ’

Lauren paused as if the question surprised her. ‘Really, I don’t know. I guess none of us need to call anyone in the outside world. Funny, I just never thought about it. ’

‘The police must drop in here from time to time. ’

‘Oh, yes. We recharge them on coffee and doughnuts. ’ Lauren looked at Pamela seriously. ‘But I know you need to report what happened to you. There’s a town a couple of hours’ drive from here. You can telephone from there. Now, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get that breakfast. ’

Pamela sat at the same table she’d sat at the day before. The one with the green Formica top. Through a window she could see Sharpe using a broom to sweep the dust from the side of the bus. He wore shades and despite the heat he looked as cool and as relaxed as the moment she’d met him. Just seconds after he’d shot Rodney.

The guy must have ice cream in his veins. I’d melt in that heat out there.

Lauren brought the coffee and ice-cold juice. The juice was heaven to Pamela’s dry throat. On a hot day like this God lives in a cold drink, she thought. She watched the truckers finish up, pay their check and then amble out to their waiting vehicles.

I could hitch a ride with them, she thought. But then, what would they expect in return for transport out of here? A ride for a ride, as the old saying goes.

No, I feel at peace here. Pits is restful.

Pits is a place where I don’t have to confront the burnt ruin of my home. Or meet Jim’s grieving family. Or attend the funeral. Or start all over in a tiny apartment where I’d sit alone at night after a day’s teaching in some bad neighborhood where the next kid you scold for chewing gum in class could pull a blade on you.

‘Hi there, sweet pea. ’

Pamela looked up. ‘Hi. ’ It was Nicki, with her Nordic blonde hair gleaming in the morning light. The hair was neatly braided. Once more she wore the knit pullover shirt and the bright red shorts. Over those she wore the blue apron with its pockets for the order pad. Her beautifully curved figure was the image of health and vitality.

Nicki engaged her in small talk. Pamela didn’t blush. The memory of seeing Nicki rub her full breasts against Pamela’s bare feet did have a dreamlike quality to it now. In the brilliance of a Mojave Desert morning such a thing seemed absurd.

Impossible.

Yeah – just a dream.

With no customers to serve, Nicki slid into one of the seats opposite. She chatted about the massage oils she hoped to sell to the diner’s customers. ‘It’s important that Pits grows. We’ve got the beginnings of a real community here. It needs to start trading with the outside world. Then as Sharpe brings in more people we’ll have a school one day. It would be lovely to hear children’s voices again. ’

‘Sharpe’s going to do that? ’

‘Sure. ’

‘But what makes people want to move to Pits? ’

Nicki smiled. ‘Look around you. There’s space. It’s clean. There’s no crime. ’

‘But. . . ’ Pamela gave a little shrug, not wanting to dis Nicki’s town. ‘But it’s kinda light on facilities, movie theaters, stores and the like. ’

‘True. But once you get used to it you love it. ’

‘And Sharpe just goes out and picks up people to come live here? ’

‘Not just like that. He saves people. Men and women who don’t have a future in the outside world. ’

Pamela took another swallow of juice. ‘I do have a future. A career. ’

Nicki smiled again. But this time the expression seemed disappointed, as if she was sad at the idea of Pamela leaving so soon. ‘That’s down to you, of course. You’ve got to make your own mind up about the future. ’

Lauren appeared at that moment with a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and steak, plus fried potatoes.

‘Wow. ’ Pamela’s mouth watered.

‘Figured you could use the protein. ’

‘Figure I’ll need to be moved round on a wheel after all this. It’s a feast! ’

‘Enjoy. ’

When Pamela had finished Lauren went back to the counter, then returned with a folded newspaper. ‘I thought I’d let you finish up before I showed you this. ’

& n

bsp; Lauren sat down beside Nicki, opposite Pamela. She unfolded the newspaper and laid it flat on the table.

The moment Pamela saw the photograph on the front page her eyes blurred with tears. It showed a row of houses with a gap between a pair of them. She recognized the street. In the gap was a charred frame.

Gently, Lauren said, ‘This isn’t pretty but you might want to read it. ’

‘No. ’

‘It might help clarify your plans for the future. ’

‘No. Please. . . ’

Lauren leaned forward and rested her hand on Pamela’s forearm.

‘There’s something you should know, Pamela. ’

Pamela used a napkin to dab her eyes. ‘I know all there is to know. That bastard Rodney murdered my husband and burned my home. ’

‘There is more. You don’t have to read it now but it might be best if—’

‘Okay. ’ Pamela took a deep breath. ‘Get it over with. ’

‘We’re here for you, Pamela, ’ Nicki said softly. ‘We’re going to help you any way we can. ’

Pamela looked at the newspaper but her teary eyes blurred her vision so that the newsprint became black streaks.

‘It’s no good. I can’t read it. My eyes are. . . uh. . . ’ She sniffed. ‘You’d think I wouldn’t have a tear left in me. ’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll give you the gist, ’ Lauren said. ‘It says the firefighters found two skeletons in the debris. One male. One female. ’

‘Female? ’

‘Yes. Pamela, they believe the remains are yours. ’

Pamela made a hiccup sound. Partway between a laugh and a cry. ‘So in the eyes of the world I don’t even exist anymore. ’ She took a deep breath. ‘Of course. It must have been Rodney. He killed another woman and brought her into the house before he kidnapped me. That way. . . ’ She found her voice breaking. ‘Th-that way, no one would come looking for me, because. . . because the police would think husband and wife died together. ’

Pamela looked from Lauren to Nicki. Both regarded her with deep sympathy. They were willing her to be strong.

‘S’easy, ’ Pamela said. ‘I go to the police. Once they see me they’ll know I’m alive and. . . and—’

‘It’s not as simple as that. ’ Lauren chose her words carefully. ‘You see, Jim’s wife flew in from New York. ’

‘No. You’re mistaken. I’m his wife. . . widow. ’

Lauren shook her head. ‘Jim was already married. ’

‘Impossible. I married him. We honeymooned in Maui. ’

Lauren reached out to squeeze Pamela’s hand. ‘It looks as if Jim had married before. Only he. . . ’

‘Neglected to mention it. ’ Pamela’s voice hardened. She sat up straight. Stared out of the window. The rocky hills rose into the sky. Now they looked like teeth ready to chew a piece out of it. ‘And never divorced. So it was a bigamous wedding. ’ She shook her head. ‘My God. The day before yesterday I was a wife. Yesterday I was a widow. ’ A bitter laugh escaped her lips. ‘Today, I’m neither. ’

Chapter Twenty

Norman woke up and thought: My God. The nightmare I’ve just had. Sex with a piglike woman called Boots. Murder. Me, slaying two cops. A bad, BAD dream. . .

He opened his eyes. ‘Oh, shit! ’

A large face framed by short bleached hair looked down at him. Hell of a lot of makeup, too. He was lying in the back seat of his car with his head on her lap.

Heart pounding, he sat up.

Looked round.

Duke driving.

Boots smiling at him.

‘You slept like a baby, ’ she was saying.

Duke glanced back. ‘Sweet dreams, big feller? ’

‘Oh God. . . oh my God. ’ Norman shuffled his butt across the seat away from Boots, trying to cower in the corner with his hand over his mouth.

Repeating: ‘Oh my God. Oh my God. . . ’

Should’ve stayed asleep.

‘Oh my God, ’ he said for the zillionth time. ‘I thought I’d dreamed it all. ’

Boots looked hurt. ‘You thought you only dreamed making out with me? ’

‘Some wet dream, huh, Norm? ’ Duke drove one-handed, the other arm straight out across the back of the passenger seat.

‘Oh, you mean you thought you dreamed all the other stuff? Zapping those cops. That soooo turned me on. ’

‘Yeah, you were awesome, man. ’ Duke gave the horn a couple of toots to celebrate his appreciation.

‘You shouldn’t do that, Duke, ’ Norman warned. ‘Draws attention to us. ’

‘You mean cops? Shit, Norm, everything’s dandy. ’

‘Yeah. ’ Boots waved her hands to point out of every window at once. ‘No one about. ’

Blinking against the bright sun, Norman looked out. The road ran through wooded hills. There were no buildings he could see.

‘Bear-shit country, ’ Duke observed.

‘I like cartoon bears. Don’t think I’d like to meet the real thing. ’

‘No bear would dare tangle with you, Bootsy-girl. ’ Duke laughed.

Boots laughed along, then: ‘Anyone hungry? ’

‘We’ve got soda and some leftovers from the beach picnic. ’ Duke sounded matter-of-fact.

Matter-of-fact like Jesus H. Christ we never killed four people yesterday. Norman was stunned.

Couldn’t speak.

Kept thinking what his father would say.

‘Mr. Wiscoff. Your son, Norman, is a cop-killer. He’ll get fifty thousand volts for the crime. ’ Norman could hear the lawyer’s words right now. What’s worse? The murders? Or the shame that I’ll bring on my family?

He didn’t know.

What was it that Oliver Hardy said when his and Stan’s plans went awry and they were up Shit Creek sans paddle? ‘Oh, Gabriel, blow your horn. ’

Ollie was inviting the archangel to bring the world to an end so he wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of whatever mess the twosome had gotten into.

‘Oh, Gabriel, blow your horn. ’

‘What you say back there, bud? ’

Norman sighed. ‘Nothing. ’

‘Sure am hungry. ’ Boots said. ‘Anyone else hungry? ’

‘I just told you, girl, we’ve got leftovers. ’

‘I don’t want no picnic leftovers. I want real food. On a plate. With steam coming off of it. ’

Norman sat up straight. ‘If you think you can pull up at a diner, think again. The police will be looking for this car. ’

‘The man’s right, ’ Duke said. ‘A red Jeep Cherokee with cop brain stuck to the windshield. Dead giveaway. ’ Then he said something that appalled Norman. ‘We’re going to ditch the car. ’

‘Ditch it? ’ Norman gasped. ‘It’s my dad’s car. He’ll be livid. ’

‘Livid? Maybe the fact his loving son’s a cop-slayer will take his mind off losing the car. ’

‘Besides. ’ Boots patted her hair in place. ‘If it’s your daddy’s car then you won’t have had the sweat of paying for it. ’

‘We can’t just leave it. ’

‘Dead straight, Norm. Don’t want to walk everywhere, do we? ’

‘Not me, ’ Boots said. ‘Makes the skin on my heels hard. ’

Norman glanced down at her thick sunburned thighs. Those feet had to ship some heavy-duty meat for a living.

‘So, this is the plan. ’ Duke glanced back. ‘We find another car. Dump this one where the cops don’t find it in a hurry. Then—’

‘Then get some chow, ’ Boots stressed.

‘Get some chow, ’ Duke agreed.

‘I’m never gonna eat ever again, ’ Norman announced with feeling.

‘Then we drive due south. ’

‘South? ’ Norman would have preferred to exit to another galaxy. Cops had a long reach.

‘South, ’ Duke repeated. ‘Get out into wilderness country where we can lay low. ’

Norman glanced back through the window at the receding road. At any second he expected to see police cruisers appear with their lights flashing.

r /> ‘Don’t sweat it, ’ Duke said. ‘We’re three hundred miles from the motel. You know the one? ’

‘Yeah, I know the one. ’

‘The one where Norman stopped being a virgin. ’

Boots smirked. ‘Maybe they’ll put up a plaque one day. Norman popped his cherry here. ’

‘Or rename the motel, ’ Duke speculated. ‘Norman’s First Hump. . . or how about this? The Cockwell Inn. ’

Duke and Boots laughed.

Norman groaned, ‘Oh my God. ’

Then Duke nodded at a dirt track that led from the road. ‘This is where we pick up our brand new conveyance. ’

Norman began to understand the implications of the plan. ‘Jesus. We’re going to steal one? ’

‘No, ’ Duke snorted. ‘We’re going to stop the car. Get out. Get down on our knees, then pray to the Almighty that He should deliver a hot BMW straight from Heaven. ’

Boots and Duke laughed again while Norman’s heart sank into the dark pit of his stomach.

The house. Two stories. Shingle roof. Barn. Workshop. Despite the heat of the sun-filled day blue smoke rose from the chimney.

‘They gotta car, ’ Boots whispered as Duke stopped the Jeep in the shade of a tree.

‘Check out the pickup truck. ’ Duke pointed to where the Ford pickup was partly hidden by the barn. ‘That’s gonna have more poke than the old rice-boiler. ’

Though it was close on a hundred yards away Norman could make out that the car parked outside the front door of the house was an aged Datsun.

‘What ya gonna do, Duke? ’ Boots asked.

‘I’m going backwards, that’s what I’m gonna do, Bootsy-girl. ’

‘Careful, ’ Norman said. ‘There’s a lake behind us. ’

‘Perfect. Once we have the pickup, Norman, you roll the car into the lake. ’

‘Into the lake? My dad’s car? ’

‘Yeah. Gonna be no use to us now. ’

‘More use to the cops, ’ Boots added. ‘Fingerprints and stuff. ’

Norman took a deep breath. ‘Okay, let’s do it. ’

Duke switched off the motor and turned round, a surprised expression beneath his Elvis quiff.

‘Aren’t you forgettin’ something, Norman? ’

‘Forgetting what? ’

‘Forgettin’ to say shit like “Are you sure about this? Aren’t we breaking the law? Won’t we get into trouble? What if we get found out? What if we get our asses busted? ”

‘That’s what you say normally, Norm. ’ Boots snickered. ‘Hey, did you hear what I said? Normally, Norm? That’s kinda—’

‘We heard. ’ Duke opened the door, then said to Norman, ‘That guilt thing ain’t eating you no more. ’

Boots leaned sideways on the back seat to squeeze Norman’s knee. ‘He’s becoming one of us. ’

They approached the house under cover of the bushes at the side. About a hundred wind chimes from the porch roof, eaves, house walls and tree branches. Under the hot sun there wasn’t much wind, but there was enough.

The chimes turned.

Tinkled.

Chinked.

Sang.

A robot chorus of tinny voices.

I’m going through with this. Norman told himself. And I don’t feel bad. I’m not wanting to retch with guilt.

That’s because you’ve done worse than steal a car.

Cop-killer.

‘Oh, Poppa, ’ he breathed. ‘If you could see me now. ’

Duke had led the way through the bushes to the house. Now he held his finger to his lips. ‘You two stay put. Come forward to the porch when I whistle. ’

Norman whispered, ‘You going to hot-wire the truck? ’

‘I figured using an ignition key would make life easier. ’

‘Where you gonna find the key? ’

‘Where do you think? ’

‘Leave him to it, ’ Boots whispered. ‘Duke knows what he’s doin’. ’

Duke winked. ‘Duke sure does, baby. ’

With that he stood up. Then, in plain view, not skulking, not looking shifty, he strolled up to the house, giving the Datsun just the barest sidelong glance.

‘Norman? ’

‘Huh. ’

‘Kind of sexy here under the bushes. ’

‘Don’t start that now, Boots. ’

‘Normy, Normy, Normy. ’

‘Quit touching. ’

‘Betcha I can get you hard. ’

‘Not now. ’

Norman tried to watch Duke’s progress. Especially as Duke was walking with the knife gripped in his hand so that it stayed behind the back of his thigh, where it wouldn’t be seen from the house.

‘Norman. . . ’

‘What? ’ He turned to Boots who tried to look coy, one of her thick fingers resting against her fleshy lips. Even in the dappling of shadow and sunlight under the bushes she looked broad. A heavy blend of muscle and fat. Her bare arms were thick and were colored a patchy red with sunburn from yesterday, while her elbows had scabbed from carpet burn.

Must be from when we made love yesterday.

Made love?

Sheesh. We screwed her plain and simple.

But there was something about her smile and her take-me-I’m-yours eye contact that sent a shivery tingle up his spine.

‘Remember what I did for you in the car yesterday, Norman? ’

‘Uh-huh. ’

‘Wanna do it again? ’

⇐ Предыдущая 5 6 7 8 91011 12 13 14 Следующая ⇒