She turned, started down the alley to a grime-colored building. The Prof watched her walk, shifted back to his cornerboy's voice. "Ain't no fake in that shake, brothers."
She looked back once over her shoulder, waved once, and she was gone.
159
I UNLOCKED the purple car. The inside of the door was covered with a thick slab of clear plastic right up to the windowsill. I dropped into the thinly padded bucket seat, turned the key. The engine crackled into life. I moved the pistol-grip shift lever into Drive and the beast lurched, straining against the brake.
The Lincoln pulled away. I followed.
The car was an old Plymouth Barracuda, a 1970s pony car. The hood went on forever, the trunk was tiny, the back seat just a padded shelf. The roof was lined with the same clear plastic, held up with cotter pins. I nursed the gas gingerly, getting the feel. The windshield was streaky, hard to see through.
At a light on Broadway, a maroon Mustang with a ground-scraper nose sloping down from gigantic rear tires pulled alongside. Revved its engine in the universal challenge. I ignored him. His passenger shouted across: "Is that a real one, man?"
A real what? The light flashed green and the Mustang peeled out. I stomped the gas experimentally and the 'Cuda catapulted forward with a roar, closing the distance in a heartbeat. I backed off quickly, hearing the exhausts pop and bubble. Quickly turned into a side street.
160
INSIDE VIRGIL'S garage, overhead lights on. I walked around the 'Cuda. Saw what had brought out the challenge from the Mustang. On the car's rear deck lid, chrome letters: Hemi.
"Why'd the Mole send me such a rocket ship?" I asked the Prof. "Man said you packing mucho weight, you got to haul the freight." He took me through the car, showing me how it worked. "See how this stuff is hinged against the hood? You just pull the pins and the panels slide right down."
"What is this stuff? Lexan?"
"The Mole said it was like that, only better. Only thing, you can't roll down the windows, they're too thick. Windshield's same stuff. So's the back window."
"It's beautiful, Prof. You know what I need it for?"
"The Mole said it was a shark cage. It ain't what you know, it's what you show."
"I never expected to see you out here."
"What was I gonna do with the ride, Clyde? Ship it UPS? The Mole paid the toll."
"I was going to fly back, bring it over myself."
"No beef, chief. It was a nice day, I felt like a drive."
"Thanks, Prof."
"Way I figure it, schoolboy, you and this hillbilly here, you ain't got a clue between you. What's the plan, man?"
161
DARKNESS SURROUNDED the house, island of light in the living room. I told the Prof everything. Almost everything.
"It could play the way you say, 'home. You park that tank in the spot, the cops stake out the terrain, Virgil covers your back. The freak smokes the car, the cops move in, you take off. Virgil makes sure nobody cheats, right?"
"That's it."
"Where you gonna get the passenger, go parking with you?"
"One of those sex shops. They got them all over the place. Get one of those life-size blow-up dolls. He'll never know the difference."
The Prof lit a smoke, face a mask. "What if he don't show, bro'?"
"He will."
"Who told you?"
I looked in his eyes, not hiding it anymore. "Wesley."
"Yeah, I knew it would be true. The monster's in the ground, but he's still around."
"It's like he talked to me."
"Yeah, you goin' spiritual on me, brother? Talking to spooks? That's okay, if you can pay."
"There never was a better man-hunter, Prof. You know it as well as I do."
"You sayin' he taught you how to do it?"
"Yeah. Some of it."
"Wesley knows. This guy has to die."
"That's not mine. We're going to smoke him out, clear Lloyd once and for all. Then I'm gone."
The Prof looked around the room. Nodded.
"When that evil little baby-killer got on the train, he didn't know it stopped at Dodge City."
162
I DROPPED HIM off where we'd picked up the 'Cuda.
"You got enough cash?"
"I'm going back on the ground, ride the 'Hound. No problem."
"Prof…"
"It's cool, fool. Don't get sloppy on me now."
"Okay."
I took his hand, surprised as always by the power in the little man's grip.
His handsome face was calm, troubadour's voice a separate, living thing in the Indiana night. "Wesley may have showed you some things, schoolboy. But I was your teacher. Wesley, he knew death. Up close and personal. Me, I know life. Stay right on the line, you'll be fine."
163
"YOU LIKE THE blonde or the redhead?" I asked Blossom. The sex shop had a plentiful supply. Black, white, Oriental. Matching pubic hair, "removable for washing," the dandruffy clerk told me. "All three holes, too." The two faces were identically blank.
"I don't like either of them."
"Yeah, okay. I know what you don't like. What I need is some clothes of yours, okay? They need to be dressed when I first pull into the spot."
"It won't work."
"Why not? You think he's gonna get that close a look?"
"Let's see."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's try it. Look for yourself."
"It'll work, don't worry."
"You can't be sure."
"Burke, we won't get another chance. I'll leave it up to you. Just take a look first. Please."
"Get a suitcase," I told her as I pulled the plug on the inflatable dolls.
164
VIRGIL AND LLOYD weren't home. "They went out somewhere," Rebecca told us. "Have some coffee with me— they said they'd be back in an hour or so."
Virginia marched into the kitchen, pulling her brother by one hand. "Mommy, can we get Junior a sailor suit? I saw one on TV before. He'd look so cute in it when he goes back to school."
"Junior, you want a sailor suit?" Rebecca asked him, eyes dancing with joy at her children.
"No!"
"I guess that settles it, Virginia. Your brother's getting old enough to know his own mind."
"He's just stubborn."
"Like his daddy."
"Daddy's not stubborn."
"No, Daddy's perfect, huh?"
"Well, he is."
"How come you're not practicing your piano, sweetheart?" Blossom asked the child.
"She don't hardly touch that thing unless her daddy's around to hear her." Rebecca laughed.
"Mommy!" Virginia gave her a look I didn't think women learned until they were grown.
I went into the living room. Watched a Monster Truck competition on TV. Virginia sat down at the kitchen table with Blossom and her mother, sipped her mostly-milk coffee with them. I lit a cigarette, drifting. Junior came inside, sat down in his father's chair, watched the trucks with me.
165
IT WAS ALMOST ten o'clock when I heard the door. The kids were in bed. Virginia came into the living room in her flannel nightgown, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Virgil picked her up, gave her a kiss, carried her back to bed.
"Got something to show you, brother. Outside."
The 'Cuda was in the garage, lights on. A neat round hole in the driver's door.
"Lloyd and me, we took it up to a spot I know. Off in the woods. I threw down on it from maybe fifty yards. Real close. Put one round into the door, one into the driver's window. From the thirty-ought-six. The bullets never got inside. That thing's a bank vault."