The one-eyed man was mumbling: “Too much juice, too much…” He wore a cheap plastic shower cap on his head. Max would have assumed he was a street person, except for the teeth; the kidnapper displayed outstanding orthodontics.
He seemed unaware that his captive was observing him. Deliberately the man extended both legs to brace himself, inhaled twice deeply, then pushed a red burton on the remote-control cylinder. Instantly his body began to jerk like an enormous broken puppet. Max Lamb watched helplessly as the stranger writhed through the leaves toward the fire. His boots were in the flames when the fit finally ended. Then the man rose with a startling swiftness, stomping his huge feet until the soles cooled.
One hand went to his neck. “By God, that’s better.”
Max Lamb concluded it was a nightmare, and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, much later, he saw that the campfire was freshly stoked. The one-eyed kidnapper crouched nearby; now his neck was bare. He was feeding Oreo cookies to the larcenous monkey, which appeared to be regaining its health. Max was more certain than ever that what he’d witnessed earlier was a dream. He felt ready to assert himself.
“Where’s my camera?” he demanded.
The kidnapper stood up, laughing through his wild beard. “Perfect,” he said. “‘Where’s my camera?’ That’s just perfect.”
In a hazardously patronizing tone, Max Lamb said: “Let me go, pardner. You don’t really want to go to jail, do you?”
“Ha,” the stranger said. He reached for the shiny black cylinder.
A bolt of fire passed through Max Lamb’s neck. He
shuddered violently and gulped for breath. His tongue tasted of hot copper. Crimson spears of light punctured the night. Max warbled in fear.
“Shock collar,” the kidnapper explained, unnecessarily. “The TriTronics 200. Three levels of stimulation. Range of one mile. Rechargeable nickel-cadmium batteries. Three-year warranty.”
Max felt it now, stiff leather against the soft skin of his throat.
“State of the art,” said the stranger. “You a bird hunter?”
Max mouthed the word “no.”
“Well, trust me. Field trainers swear by these gizmos. Dogs get the message real quick, even Labs.” The stranger twirled the remote control like a baton. “Me, I couldn’t put one of these on an animal. Fact, I couldn’t even try it on you without testing it myself. That’s what a big old softy I am.”
The kidnapper scratched the crown of the monkey’s head. The monkey hopped back and bared its tiny teeth, which were flecked black with Oreo crumbs. The kidnapper laughed.
Max Lamb, quavering: “Keep it away from me!”
“Not an animal person, huh?”
“What is it you want?”
The stranger turned toward the fire.
Max said, “Is it money? Just take whatever I’ve got.”
“Jesus, you’re thick.” The stranger pushed the red button, and Max Lamb thrashed briefly against his ropes. The monkey skittered away, out of the firelight.
Max looked up to see the psycho, taping him with the video camera! “Say cheese,” the stranger said, aiming the Handycam with his good eye.
Max Lamb reddened. He felt spindly and pale in his underwear.
The man said, “I might send this up to Rodale and Burns. What d’you think-for the office Christmas bash? ‘How I Spent My Florida Vacation,’ starring Max Leo Lamb.”
Max sagged. Rodale and Burns was the Madison Avenue advertising agency where he worked. The lunatic had been through his billfold.
“They call me Skink,” the kidnapper said. He turned off the Handycam and carefully capped the lens. “But I prefer ‘captain.'”
“Captain what?”
“Obviously you were impressed by the hurricane.” The stranger packed the video camera in a canvas sleeve. “Myself, I was disappointed. I was hoping for something more … well, biblical.”
Max Lamb said, as respectfully as possible: “It looked pretty bad to me.”
“You hungry?” The kidnapper brought a burlap sack to the tree where his prisoner was tied.
“Oh God,” said Max Lamb, staring inside the bag. “You can’t be serious.”
FOUR
Filling the BarcaLounger like a stuffed tuna, Tony Torres encouraged Edie Marsh and Snapper to reveal the details of their aborted scam. Facing a loaded shotgun, they complied.
Snapper gestured sourly toward Edie, who said: “Simple. I fake a fall in your driveway. My ‘brother’ here threatens to sue. You freak out and offer us money.”