"Are you going to let me talk to Kathi or aren't you?"
"I'd better, or I'm going to get bad fan mail."
"I keep forgetting we have an audience. They missed half the show."
"You keep saying that. Are you sure you killed seven?"
"So far."
"And that there were originally twelve?"
"I heard them say that and not for my benefit, either."
"What do you mean by that?"
"We've been playing cat-and-mouse up here since nine o'clock last night. If any of them live through this, we're going to have a reunion next year. Pizza and bowling. Put Kathi Logan on before your switchboard lights up, hambone."
"Boy, I'm glad I don't ride a black-and-white with you."
"Joe? It's Kathi. Can you hear me?"
"As if I were in the candy store around the corner. Want to go to the movies? How are you?"
"I'd love to go to the movies. I'm fine how are you? I have the television on and it looks like a war up there."
"Nah, just one dumb cop trying to quiet down the neighborhood."
"They're saying what you've done so far."
"You can say it."
"No, I can't."
"I understand. Listen, kid, this is what I was trained for. There's a young lady lying over there who called me a trained dog. These people have a habit of trying to deny your humanity. Do you care who's listening?"
"Besides me, no. I'm interested in who's talking."
"Trained I am; a dog I'm not, or any other animal. I'm a human being, just one, and they can't see that my presence here ought to teach them something."
"I agree with you, Joe, but I don't know if I'm as brave as you are."
He was looking for a way in through the roof. If the five survivors were monitoring him, let them think that he was having a chat with his girl. He could smell her perfume. He could feel her lips on his lips again. Thank God it was what fate had left him to believe in. "Okay, this is a personal call. Did you listen to your tape?"
"Yes."
"I was cut off by these people. They didn't know that I had stepped away from the party to call you. I got upstairs. I saw them kill a guy named Rivers. Anton Gruber shot him through the heart. I'm an eyewitness. I tried to flash an SOS, but they sent a guy after me. I sent him back with his neck broken. You might as well know who I am, kid. I've been operating on this corner for almost thirty-five years. The police want a record of this. Do you understand what I'm doing?"
"Yes."
"Can I really make this a personal call?" There was no way in through the roof. "I've been thinking of that place on the beach. It's going to be a while before I can walk, but that's all right."
"Why can't you walk?"
"I'll tell you that, too." The only way in that he knew was through the ventilator shaft, but then he would have no way of going up or down. Even if he could really move.
He was beginning to see that it was in his favor if he could convince Little Tony that he was totally disabled. He had to provide covering fire for the helicopters, if for no other reason than to make the gang think that he could still defend himself. What the hell time was it? Almost 5:30. They would start to see light in another fifty minutes.
He kept talking, almost as if reciting in class, counting the bodies out loud. He had decided to take stock of all his assets, including Hannah's empty automatic. He had a pair of kit bags. Skeezix's Czech assault rifle and almost three clips of ammunition. He had bath towels wrapped around his feet, if he needed them. What else? What was left of him?
It was still a long time until dawn, and at odd moments, because of his exhaustion he would sense the black globe, in which the darkness seemed to press up against his eyes. Pilots, sailors, and truckers knew about the globe.
He told Kathi that he didn't know who had signaled him that the police were on their way, but he wanted to think it was some actor in a Jacuzzi with a beautiful woman. She actually did the work, at his instruction. Kathi understood what he was doing. She said she knew the guy, and that he would be glad to lend them his tub. Leland was studying the crap he had.
"I appreciate this, Kathi. I really do."
"I want to see you when this is over. I want you to live."
He thought again of Billy Gibbs's advice. He wondered how much being four hundred feet above the pavement was going to bother him now, in his condition, "I want to live, too. Al, you on the line?"
"I was trying to maintain a discreet distance. What can I do for you besides get the champagne and caviar? Just don't ask me to wear a butler's uniform."
"Too bad, it was just getting interesting. Listen, I'm trying to set myself up for your suicide charge, and I want to get the sun behind me."
"It'll rise about ten degrees left of the highrises downtown. I love you, man. Do you understand? I'm with you."
"Thank you, Al. Billy Gibbs will tell you what kind of a partner I am. Kathi, are you still there?"
"Yes, Joe."
"Well, as a regular viewer, you know that the LAPD will be coming over the hill at sunrise, if not before." He was trying to figure out how much he could carry. No, he had to figure out what he needed. He had to make a plan. He had to assume that Tony was listening, looking for the way Leland was trying to set him up. Well, to hell with that shit; Billy Gibbs's advice remained the best. With the sun behind him, Leland stood a chance.
Billy knew that Leland meant to go on the offensive. That was right. That was goddamned right. He had become the climax of a horror flick only because of these animals. If God was good, he was going to be able to kill them all. This was not the first time he'd had that thought; now he wanted it more than ever.
"Anyway," he said to Kathi Logan, and, he thought, to anyone who happened to be listening, "What I'm going to do is get my back to the sun so these people will have to look into it to find me. We did it in World War II. From that position, I'll be able to cover both the door to the roof and the door out of the elevator tower. Since I saw you last, Kathi, I moved into Klaxon Towers here. I know it more intimately than I've known most people."
"Joe, I want you to live."
"You said that."
He had all the kit bag straps assembled. This time he was going to attach it to his shoulder harness at his end, while he was still wearing it. His legs were worthless. He had to go with what he had. A rat in a trap would chew his foot off if it would set him free.
He threw the harness onto the roof. It wasn't going to work. If he did not face that fact, he would die. He would die if he tried to stay on the roof. But he could not trust his weight to those clips again, especially if they had to take it suddenly, which was going to be the case. He had less than half an hour left.
"Al, are you still there?"
"Right here, Joe."
"Kathi, stay on the line. Al, I want to talk to Vince Crane."
"I'm sorry, you can't."
"Why the hell not?"
"He's not available, Joe. Stay loose, will you?"
It took Leland a moment to realize: "Crane was dead. Dwayne Robinson was in charge again, however briefly. He had devised the roof landing and if Leland happened to get killed in the process, it would be no skin off Robinson's ass. Leland pressed the "Talk" button. "Al, who is the officer presently commanding this operation? I want it on the record."
"Joe, you don't have to help us. You've done enough."
"Let's get the man's name on the record, Al."
"Captain Dwayne T. Robinson. Now, Joe, you've been under tremendous strain."
"Don't kid me. All this time you've been keeping it light, and Vince Crane is dead. Now tell me what the situation is down on the street."
He was moving toward the elevator tower again. His left leg was completely numb it was his back that was racked with pain now. If there were fire hoses up here, they might be in the same relative positions as the hoses down below.
"Are you going to tell me about the situation or aren't you?"
"Mr. Leland?" It was a new voice, very loud and clear.
"Who's talking?"