Behind him, you dickhead? He’s on top of a tower. How can you get behind him?
“Stay here,” he said to Karen. “Please, for once just do what I ask without a discussion and stay here. Please.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just for a walk up the water slide. Now promise.”
“You think the killer’s up there?” Karen asked.
“Karen, we don’t have time.”
“We can shout and warn them!”
“They wouldn’t understand and he’d start shooting,” Neal said. “Think on the bright side: It’s probably just my paranoia.”
Neal started running for the base of the water slide. Then he heard the voice-that voice-booming across the PA system.
“Joey! Joey Beans! It’s Stumpy the Clown!”
Overtime peeked up from his hiding place.
This is different, he thought as he watched Joey freeze in place. Harold pulled his pistol. But that damn Candy Landis just kept walking. She didn’t look surprised at all.
“We have some unfinished business, Joey!”
“Where are you, you rat bastard?” Joey yelled.
Overtime saw Candy Landis walk to within about five feet of Joey. He should have shot then, but it was just so damn interesting.
“Hey, Joey! Carmine Bascaglia heard this tape last night. It goes something like…”
This is a nightmare, Joey thought. I’m going to wake up any second beside some luscious broad and laugh and-
“You didn’t leave us with any choice,” Candy Landis was saying. “We tried to tell you nicely, but you just wouldn’t listen.”
The PA system played a scratchy leader for a few seconds and then boomed: “BLESS ME, FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED, IT HAS BEEN ONE DAY
SINCE MY LAST CONFESSION.”
Joey turned white.
“It sounds good,” Joe Graham said to John Culver, who was operating the system.
“A little more treble, perhaps,” Culver suggested. He tweaked a dial. “Primo system. Very tasty.”
“Keep playing it,” Graham said. Then he went out to enjoy the look on Joey Beans’s face.
Neal reached the first pool and was pleased to see that the water was running.
Of course. God would never let you climb a dry water slide. That would be too easy.
He grabbed the sides of the slide and started to pull himself
I’m wrong, he thought. There’s no one up here. They wouldn’t dare take another shot at Polly, not now, not when Bascaglia called them off.
He slipped and landed on his face as he heard:
“You tapped a man’s confessional?” Joey croaked. “You came between a man and his God? What kind of people are you!”
“DEA,” Chuck answered.
“Baptists,” Candy said.
THERE WERE FIVE FORNICATIONS… OKAY, THREE… TWENTY-EIGHT IMPURE
THOUGHTS… AND I THINK AN EXTORTION. MAYBE IT’s BLACKMAIL. HARD TO
“You had it coming, Joey,” Polly said.
“You should talk, you whore,” answered Joey.
“For God’s sake, Joey,” Harold moaned. “Did you think this was a priest or dear fucking Abby?”
“Shut up.”
Graham arrived on the scene.
“Carmine heard this last night, Joey,” he said. “But I told him we wanted to surprise you. I figure you got maybe a three-hour start if you get going now. Unless Carmine’s already talked to Harold here.”
Joey looked wildly around.
“Harold, shoot somebody,” he said.
Harold’s eye was sending telegrams.
“Sorry, boss,” he said.
“Leave now, Mr. Foglio,” Candy said. “There has been more than enough dying.”
Foglio straightened himself up and looked her dead in the eye. “You’ll get yours, you bitch.”
Any second now.
The high-banked curves were tough because he kept slipping and getting water in his mouth. Neal found he could dig one foot into the curved side and push while he pulled himself up with his hands. It was taking time, though, and he was running out of time.
Karen tried to stay on the terrace. She really did. But she saw her friends down there, people she loved: Candy Landis, the flawed but somehow lovable-and pregnant-Polly Paget, and Joe Graham.
Dear, dear Joe Graham.
She ran down the stairs and started across the terrace, waving her arms and yelling.
NOW THERE WAS ONE MURDER MAYBE I HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH, BUT IT
Excuse me, Overtime thought. I think we’ve all heard about enough.
He leaned out of the starting chamber and raised the rifle. He caught some movement from the corner of his eye and shifted the scope.
Oh, this is too good, he thought. There she is, running like a deer across a meadow. And no baseball bat. No dog.
Decisions, decisions.
Problem: So many targets, so little time.
Analysis: If you shoot her first, you’ll spook the money targets.
Consideration: Always shoot for the money. When they start dropping, she’ll freeze and you can drop her where she stands.
Decision: Get to work. Shoot for the money first, then protection, then pleasure.
Just in, just out. Professional.
Of course, there are two money targets.
“I ain’t going down alone, Hathaway,” Joey said pointedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hathaway asked.
“It’s all on the tape, Mr. Hathaway,” Chuck said as he pulled his revolver and pointed it at Hathaway’s chest, “but we do thank you for coming today.”
“You set me up,” Hathaway accused Candy.
Graham saw his eyes glance up at the water slide.
I MEAN, CARMINE’S WHACKED MORE GUYS THAN CARTER HAS PILLS…
Neal was winded by the time he hit the last long slope to the top. He had to lie on his stomach and pull himself up, and his hands kept slipping.
And he heard Karen yelling. Then his hands slipped and he slid backward.
“Get down!” Karen yelled.
“What’s she saying?” asked Candy.
“Bye-bye,” Joey Beans answered.
Overtime centered the crosshairs on Foglio’s square forehead. He had worked out his priorities: Make Carmine happy first, then Peter, then take Polly out, then the bitch from Nevada, then maybe the one-armed dwarf who’d set him up, the gray-haired cop…
As they say, Idle hands are the devil’s playground.
He started to apply that gentle persuasion to the trigger.
Or… do Candy first, which will make Joey think he’s safe, then whack the bitch from Nevada, then the one-armed dwarf, then…
Neal grabbed onto the side and caught himself. He threw one foot out and managed to get straight and start pulling up again. Water streamed into his face. He had his mouth clamped shut, but the water was coming into his nose and he started to choke.
He craned his neck and saw Overtime’s back and the rifle come up to his cheek.