Blindly, John stuck out one leg behind Lester and pushed as hard as he could. Lester uttered a surprised yell and went over, but he shot both hands out as he toppled, snagged them in john's bloodspattered shirt, and pulled the Deputy over on top of him. They began to roll across the floor, butting and punching.
Both were far too busy to see Sheila Brigham dart out of the dispatcher's cubicle and into Alan's office. She snatched the shotgun off the wall, cocked it, and ran back into the bullpen area, which was now a shambles. Lester was sitting on top ofjohn, industriously banging his head against the floor.
Sheila knew how to use the gun she had been target shooting since she was eight years old. Now she socked the buttplate against her shoulder and screamed: "Get away from him, John!
Give me a clearfield!"
Lester turned at the sound of her voice, his eyes glaring. He bared his teeth at Sheila like an angry bull gorilla, then went back to banging John's head on the floor.
16
As Alan approached the Municipal Building, he saw the first unqualifiedly good thing of the day: Norris Ridgewick's VW approaching from the other direction. Norris was in plain clothes, but Alan cared not at all about that. He could use him this afternoon.
Oh boy, how he could use him.
Then that went to hell, too.
A large red car-a Cadillac, license plate KEETON I-suddenly shot out of the narrow alley which gave access to the Municipal Building's parking lot. Alan watched, gape-mouthed, as Buster drove his Cadillac into the side of Norris's Beetle. The Caddy wasn't going fast, but it was roughly four times the size of Norris's car.
There was a crunch of crimping metal and the VW toppled over onto the passenger side with a hollow bang and a tinkle of glass.
Alan slammed on the brakes and got out of his cruiser.
Buster was getting out of his Cadillac.
Norris was struggling out through the window of his Volkswagen with a dazed expression on his face.
Buster began to stalk toward Norris, his hands closing into fists.
A frozen grin was rising on his fat round face.
Alan took one look at that grin and began to run.
17
The first shot Hugh fired shattered a bottle of Wild Turkey on the backbar. The second shattered the glass over a framed document which hung on the wall just above Henry's head and left a round black hole in the liquor license beneath. The third tore off Henry Beaufort's right cheek in a pink cloud of blood and vaporized flesh.
Henry shrieked, grabbed the box with the sawed-off shotgun inside, and dropped behind the bar. He knew Hugh had shot him, but he didn't know if it was bad or not. He was only aware that the right side of his face was suddenly as hot as a furnace, and that blood, warm, wet, and sticky, was pouring down the side of his neck.
"Let's talk about cars, Henry," Hugh was saying as he approached the bar. "Even better than that, let's talk about my foxtail-what do you say?"
Henry opened the box. It was lined with red velvet. He stuck his jittery, unstable hands in and pulled out the sawed-off Winchester. He started to break it, then realized there was no time.
He would just have to hope it was loaded.
He gathered his legs under him, getting ready to spring up and give Hugh what he sincerely hoped would be a big surprise.
18
Sheila realized John wasn't going to get out from under the crazy man, who she now believed was Lester Platt or Pratt... the gym teacher at the high school, anyway. She didn't think John could get out from under. Lester had stopped banging John's head against the floor and had closed his big hands around John's throat instead.
Sheila reversed the gun, locked her hands on the barrel, and cocked it back over her shoulder like Ted Williams. Then she brought it around in a hard, smooth swing.
Lester turned his head at the last moment, just in time to catch the gun's steel-edged walnut stock between his eyes. There was a nasty crunch as the gunstock smashed a hole into Lester's skull and turned his forebrain to jelly. It sounded as if someone had stepped very hard on a full box of popcorn. Lester Pratt was dead before he hit the floor.
Sheila Brigham looked at him and began to scream.
19
"Did you think I wouldn't know who it was?" Buster Keeton was grunting as he dragged Norris-who was dazed but unhurt-the rest of the way out of the VW's driver's-side window. "Did you think I wouldn't know, with your name right at the bottom of every goddam sheet of paper you taped up? Did you? Did you?"
He cocked one fist back to strike Norris, and Alan Pangborn slipped a handcuff around it just as neatly as you please.
"Huh!" Buster exclaimed, and wheeled ponderously around.
Inside the Municipal Building, someone started to scream.
Alan glanced in that direction, then used the cuff on the other end of the chain to pull Buster over to the open door of his own Cadillac. Buster flailed at him as he did so. Alan took several punches harmlessly on his shoulder, and snapped the free cuff around the doorhandle of the car.
He turned around and Norris was there. He had time to register the fact that Norris looked just terrible, and to dismiss it as a consequence of being rammed amidships by the Head Selectman.
"Come on," he said to Norris. "We've got trouble."