They both were muffled, but Persival spoke in slower cadence. ” three more here… Ireland… woman thirty… late January…”
” about another vehicle?”
‘later. Maybe at the same time.”
Mumble “…”
~ tentative approval… liked the basic idea. Oil tankers too… longer delay… arrive tomorrow… description of McGraw… take a personal look… coming up from… go back with him… you in charge.”
And that was all I could get out of the half hour. The rest was all fragmentary, blurred, distorted. I played those parts over and over, trying to get another word or two. Somebody was coming on New Year’s Day to take a look at their Mr. McGraw. As a card-carrying pessimist, I could expect nothing good from that. With such a big, careful, patient, rich organization, they would have sent somebody to check out the expired Florida driver’s license with my face thereon. Probably sent the license itself. Maybe their Mr. Toomey or Mr. Kline took a look at the license. I had been too tricky. Always keep things simple as possible.
It meant I would have to choose one of my sorry options sooner than I had expected. The most attractive one was to take off in the snowstorm while they thought me drunk. Get to a phone somehow.
The Green Ripper
Call the number memorized at the request of Max and Jake. Hope they would believe me. Hope they would move fast enough.
I dressed warm. Poncho on last. I moved to the door, and just as I got there, it opened and Stella came in out of the snow and ran right into me.
“Hey, where are you going?”
Ie? I’m going back to the party.”
‘~hat party’s over.” She grinned. “And now we’ve got our own private one. You know, there isn’t supposed to be this much snow here this time of year, staying on the ground.” She gave me a push. “Back to the sack, lover. I got taken off the gate detail, and Nena has some company, so I’ve got to stay. Here, let me help you get that off, Brother Tommy. Honey, are you too drunk to make it? We’ll find out. Don’t worry about it. I got lots of ways to help you. Sit down, sweetie. 111 get your shoes off. There. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
When I saw the first faint pallor of dawn at the window, I made my move. She was asleep on the inside, face to the wall. I had to believe she had been told to stay close to me until tomorrow’s visitor could check me out. I got up as quietly as I could and began dressing. Sudderdy she rolled over and sat up and said, “Hey? Where you going?”
I held my finger to my lips and shushed her.
Vhat’s going on?” she whispered.
I leaned close as if to whisper in her ear. When she lifted her chin, I popped her on the corner of the jaw with a right that traveled about six inches. In my tension and apprehension, I had hit her harder than was necessary. It bounced her head off the wall behind her and she sprawled face down into the pillow, motionless. I ripped her heavy twill shirt into Strips, tied her up securely, poked a wad of shirt material into her mouth, and used the last strip to hold it there, with the knot at the back of her neck.
It was a very still morning, the first day without wind since I had arrived. Welcome to the New Year. The temperature was up, the snow beginning to melt. It made for bad footing. I knew I couldn’t risk going too fast. Too many chop blocks in the old days had stretched the knee tendons almost to the point of surgery. I could land on something under the snow that would shift or turn, and from then on I could be caught by a reasonably spry turtle.
My plan was to get down the road as fast as Icould, cut off at the last bend, and come up behind the lean-to. I was fifteen yards from the beginning of the road when there was a yell behind me. I ned and saw Barry back near the kitchen building, alone and unarmed. So I began to move a lot faster, hoping for the best. I had made a slippery hundred yards down the hill when I heard three spaced shots behind me and a long screeching blast