Chapter Twenty
1:00 a.m.
The limo was running low on gas and Jennifer could see that Brennan was running low on patience. An hour had passed and they had seen no sign of anyone who might be Demise carrying the books. They had seen plenty of suspicious and strange an( downright weird sights, but nothing that was of any use to them.
“We might as well forget it,” Brennan said. He checked his watch. “I want to get some equipment that’s at my apartment. Then we can plan our next move.”
As they headed toward )okertown the streets became even more crowded with late-night revelers.
“It’ll be quicker if we abandon the limo,” Brennan decided. “Besides, it’s just too conspicuous. We’ll have Egrets all over us in a minute if we try to take it through Jokertown.”
They pulled over and Jennifer reached for the keys to turn off the engine, but stopped with her hand resting on the keys, listening to the radio.
“What’s wrong?” Brennan asked. “Shhhh.”
“.. beat the Stars 4-2 today at Ebbets Field, Seaver winning his fourteenth. But the events of the game took a back seat to the bizarre story that nearly the entire Dodger team had seen a ghost in the locker room before the game. According to the normally stolid, one might even say unimaginative, Thurman Munson, the ghost wished them good luck before vanishing through the clubhouse wall. Descriptions of this specter state it was a female in her twenties, tall, with long blond hair, and very good looking. It-or she-wore a black string bikini. Well, if you’re going to be haunted—”
Jennifer turned off the engine, killing the radio, and got out of the car. Brennan looked at Jennifer critically, then frowned.
“What’s the matter?”
“We’ve really got to get you out of that bikini now. Talk about conspicuous.” He looked at her closely and she would have blushed had she thought he wasn’t being analytical. “Well, I’ll get something. I wish you wouldn’t lose your clothes so often. Although…”
He seemed to think better of finishing the sentence, and turned and walked off, shaking his head.
They’d been tailing her for several minutes, since she left Fortunato’s place in a cab. Spector was sitting in the back seat with the Astronomer. The old man’s eyes were closed and he was completely silent. Imp and Insulin were sitting in the middle seat. Imp had his arm around her. They were probably sleeping together. Imp had made a joke about the baseball uniform, but the Astronomer had stepped in before Spector could kill him.
The girl wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She was pretty enough and carried herself well, but wasn’t dressed like a highpriced whore. She had on faded blue jeans and a red-and white University of Houston sweatshirt. Her hair was short, dark blond, and tightly curled. She’d bounced down the stairs with a smile on her face when the cab showed up. Saved them the trouble of going inside. It would be simple enough to grab her wherever she got dropped off.
Spector looked at the Astronomer. The old man was breathing noisily and his hands trembled. When he opened his eyes again, Spector would try his power. There wouldn’t be a better opportunity. Spector stared at the Astronomer’s eyelids and waited.
The Astronomer opened his eyes. There was still power there, too much for him to challenge. Spector turned away. “I wonder where the hell she’s going?” he asked.
“The Jokertown clinic.” The Astronomer laughed wheezily. “That’s right, Demise. The place you were, born, so to speak.”
“I’m not going in there,” Spector said, shaking his head. “Yes, you are, Demise. You really have no choice.” The Astronomer closed his eyes again. “No choice at all.”
Spector clenched his teeth. The, old bastard was right. “You’re sure she’s going to the clinic.”
“That’s what she told the cab driver, Demise. There will he two other women. I want them all. Imp and Insulin will go inside with you.” The Astronomer paused. “Just to back you up.”
They rode in silence until the cab pulled up in front of the Jokertown clinic. The limo pulled past the cab and parked in front of a fire hydrant. The girl got out of the cab.
“Go get them.” The Astronomer jerked his thumb in the direction of the clinic entrance.
Spector opened the door and stepped out of the limo. He walked slowly toward the brightly lit entrance. His guts were ice. He’d spent the worst days of his life in the clinic, most of them screaming. He’d had to kill an orderly to escape, and someone might recognize him and remember. Two women were coming down the stairs to meet the girl from the cab. One had dark hair and was wearing a black sequined dress. The other, also a brunette, had on a low-cut electric-blue lame dress slit up to mid-thigh.
“What happened?” asked the girl in the sweatshirt.
“It’s Croyd,” said the brunette. “We think he went into a coma or something. One minute he was fine, the next he’s passed out and we can’t wake him up.”
“Bet you tried everything you could think of, though.” The girl in the sweatshirt smiled. Spector wondered what her expression would be if she knew what was in store.
He heard car doors close behind him. Imp and Insulin were moving in. Spector couldn’t make a break for it with Insulin around.
Spector heard muffled screams from inside. Glass from the entranceway shattered outward. A security guard bounced bleeding down the steps. Spector ran forward.
“Get the fuck out of my way, jerk-offs. Get away, or I’ll feed you your own assholes.” The speaker was one of the biggest, ugliest jokers Spector had ever seen. The thing’s face was badly bruised. He raised a clublike hand, tearing the white hospital gown that only partially covered his oversized body. The joker saw the girls and smiled. They backed away from him toward the cab which was pulling away, tires screaming…
“Come to Poppa, little pussies.”
Spector moved in as the joker grabbed the woman in the lame dress. She tried to knee him in the balls, but couldn’t hit high enough. Spector looked at the dark-haired woman and squinted. It was the same girl who’d been in the subway station with the pimp. She looked even better dressed up. Spector took a step toward her.
“Who the fuck are you?” The joker had slung the other woman over his shoulder and leapt down the stairs at him. “One of the boys of September?”
Spector saw the punch coining and ducked; the blow grazed his left cheek and spun him to the ground. He rolled out of the charging joker’s path. There was no way to lock eyes while he was moving so quickly. He turned at a scream behind him. Imp was dragging the dark blonde toward the limo. Insulin faced the giant and smiled.
The joker went to one knee. “Goddamn, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He dropped the woman and slumped over. The brunette pulled herself out from under him, tearing her dress. Insulin grabbed her by the elbow and pointed her down the street.
Spector sat up, thought about running, and looked at the limo. The Astronomer was staring at him. No chance to get away. There wouldn’t be, ever. He went for the dark-haired girl, putting his arm around her. She didn’t look scared, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel she wasn’t all there.
“Me again,” Spector said. “Looks like your visit is going to , be kind of short.” She didn’t react. “Tonight nobody’s getting out alive.” Still no reply.
He kicked the fallen joker in the face with his good foot as he walked past.