"Oh Jesus," said Monica. "You sick creep, you ... "

"Yes," interrupted Anna, still looking Snake right in the eyes. "Yes. Let her go, and you can suck them."

Snake pretended to think about it, this offer from this desperate, bare-breasted woman in front of him. This was as good as it got.

"Nah," he said, giving Jenny's hair another tug, pulling her sobbing face toward his crotch. "I think this girlie's t.i.tties might be even nicer."

"NO!" screamed Anna, her eyes burning into Snake's now. She fought for calm. "If you hurt her," she said, "I swear to G.o.d I'll kill you."

"Sure you will," said Snake. "You can kill me with those big t.i.tties a yours." He licked the air with his tongue. Then he pulled the sobbing Jenny to her feet and turned to Walter.

"Muscle boy," he said, "who got the keys to the police car?"

Walter, insane with the frustration of being unable to strangle this sc.u.mbag, clenched his jaw and glared at Snake, trying to kill him with rage.

Snake pointed the gun right at Walter's face and said, slowly, 'Tell me right now who got the keys."

Walter breathed in and out twice through his nose. Finally, through his teeth, s.p.a.cing the words out, he said, "They're in the car, sc.u.mbag."

On hearing "sc.u.mbag," Snake pulled the trigger. He intended to shoot Walter-he'd been aiming right at him-but when he pulled the trigger, he jerked the gun, and the bullet went through the wall several inches from Walter's head. Snake was surprised: He had figured himself for a natural marksman, after the effortless way he'd taken out Jerry Springer. But he felt better when he saw the big man cringing, obviously terrified. Snake decided to act as though it had been a warning shot.

"Next one's in your ugly face, sc.u.mbag," he said. He pointed the gun at Puggy, who had been squatting on the floor, totally still, hoping to be forgotten.

"Pick up the suitcase," he said.

Sighing, Puggy stood and picked up the suitcase.

Snake grabbed Jenny by the arm, and said to Eddie, "L^t's go. We gotta plane to catch."

Eddie thought, what plane? But he didn't dare ask. He really didn't want to go with the new, bats.h.i.t Snake. On the other hand, he figured he couldn't stay there with the cops, either. So he reluctantly followed Snake, who was pulling Jenny, and herding Puggy, toward the foyer.

Snake had considered simply shooting everybody in the living room, but he was concerned-you had to plan ahead, in this line of work-about using up bullets he might need in the Bahamas to establish kingpinship. Also he had heard somewhere that you could get in extra trouble if you killed a cop. The way he figured it, the prisoners were no threat: The men were handcuffed, and the women and kid were tied up. Snake had a big wad of cash money and a suitcase that-he was absolutely sure, now-contained a large amount of valuable drugs. He had three guns. He had a scared, fine-looking young thing to enjoy later on, when he had some tune. He was on top of the world, is what he was. And to think: Just that morning, he'd basically been a lowlife.

As Snake opened the front door, Anna called after him, her voice now raw and desperate. "Please," she said. "Oh G.o.d, please don't take her."

"Hey, don't worry, momma," Snake called back. "I'll show her a good time."

He closed the door, and for a second or two, the only sound in the house was Anna's anguished wail.

"Did you hear a shot?" asked Leonard.

"Sounded like a pistol," said Henry. "In the house."

They were standing under Puggy's tree. Henry was catching his breath; he had spent the last ten minutes struggling his way up to Puggy's platform-where he found his rifle, still loaded, wrapped in a sheet of plastic-and then painstakingly climbing back down.

"You think our boy got whacked?" said Leonard. "The Panty Hose Gang beat us to the punch?"

"Could be," said Henry, moving toward the house. "Or, could be somebody whacked them."

"Or," said Leonard, following, "maybe somebody finally shot the dog."

Snake told Puggy to put the suitcase in the trunk of the police cruiser. He made Puggy climb in with it, then he slammed the lid. He put Jenny in the backseat and got in with her.

"You drive," he told Eddie.

"I ain't never drove no police car," said Eddie. In fact, it had been fifteen years since he had driven any car, and that one had been stolen, and he ended up driving it into a ca.n.a.l.

"It's just a f.u.c.kin' car," said Snake, who was also very rusty in the automotive department, which was why he had made Eddie the driver. "Drive it."

"Where to?" said Eddie.

"Airport," said Snake.

"Which way is that?" said Eddie.

"I bet this little girlie knows," said Snake, putting his hand on the back of Jenny's neck and squeezing hard. "Don'tcha, little girlie?"

Jenny, whimpering from the pain, nodded.

Snake gave her neck another hard squeeze.

"She's a good little girlie," he said.

"You said Garbanzo, right?" said the taxi driver.

"Yes," said Eliot. "Garbanzo. It's the next right."

The driver slowed down to process that information.

"This next right here?" he asked.

"Yes, turn right here," said Eliot, gripping the seat to keep from screaming.

The driver came to a complete stop at the intersection and peered up at the street sign, studying it as though it were a new constellation in the night sky. Finally, he said: "Garbanzo."

"Jesus Christ," said Eliot. Yanking open the cab door, he tossed a twenty-dollar bill, which was the smallest he had, onto the front seat and got out. He slammed the door and set off running toward the Herk house.

The taxi driver looked down at the twenty, then at Eliot's receding figure.

"What's the big hurry?" he said.

Eddie turned the ignition key, and the big police-cruiser V-8 rumbled to life. On the radio, staticky voices were talking in numbers, which made Eddie nervous. He turned around and looked through the back window.

"There's a gate," he said to Snake.

"I know there's a gate," said Snake. "Back up to it, and it'll open."

Gingerly, Eddie put the cruiser in reverse and pressed the gas pedal. The engine revved. The cruiser shuddered, but did not move.

"It ain't movin'," said Eddie.

Snake looked over the front seat. "You got the f.u.c.kin' brake on, a.s.shole," he said, pointing to a lever labeled BRAKE by Eddie's left knee.

Eddie, still revving the engine, pulled the lever. The tires squealed and the cruiser rocketed backward, smashing through the gate. As it roared into Garbanzo Street, Eddie frantically smashed his right foot onto the brake and turned the wheel; the cruiser spun in a tight, tire-smoking circle and then stopped, rocking twice on its shock absorbers.

"Jesus," said Eddie.

Suddenly he was aware of a figure on the sidewalk next to the destroyed driveway gate. It was a guy in shorts, yelling at him.

"Get the f.u.c.k outta here," said Snake. "Now."

Eddie jammed the cruiser into drive and stomped the gas pedal. The cruiser fishtailed forward, just missing a taxi, then straightened out and shot away into the night.

CHAPTER nine

"I got rights," said Crime Fighter Jack Pend.i.c.k, for perhaps the fortieth time since he had been taken into police custody.

"Indeed you do, Mr. Pend.i.c.k," said Detective Harvey Baker. "You have rights up the wazoo. And I'm sure you're going to exercise every single one. But first you're going to go with these officers, who are going to take you to a nice room where you can lie down and see if you can get your blood alcohol content down below that 300 percent mark, OK?"

"Do I get my gun back?" asked Pend.i.c.k.

"Of course you do!" said Baker. "Just as soon as we run a couple of tests and a giant, talking marsh-mallow is elected president."

"OK," said Pend.i.c.k, satisfied. "Because I got rights."

As Pend.i.c.k was being led away, Baker called the radio room, for the third time, to find out if officers Ramirez and Kramitz had reported back. They had not. This bothered Baker. He thought about sending another cruiser out to check on them. But then he decided-he wasn't sure why-that he'd take a ride out to the Herk house himself.

As soon as she was sure that the bad man was gone, Nina came out of her bedroom. She had peeked out before, when she had heard shouting; mat was when she saw the bad man at the end of the hall, by the foyer. He was wearing some kind of stocking on his head, covering his face, flattening his features, so that he looked like a snake. He was holding a gun and shouting at somebody. He did not see her. She quietly closed and locked her door. After that she heard screaming and a gunshot, and she had been very scared. She wanted to call the police, but there was no telephone in her room. So she just waited, sitting on her bed, pressing her face into her hands, until the door slammed and she no longer heard the bad man talking. When she came out, she ran down the hall, toward the sound of Mrs. Anna's crying. Hounding the part.i.tion to the living room, she stopped and put her hand over her mouth. Mrs. Anna was lying on her back with her hands under her. Her blouse was undone and her bra was pushed up; her eyes were wild like a crazy woman's. Next to her was the lady policeman who had been there the other night; she was struggling with something behind her back. Next to her was Miss Jenny's young friend Matt, whose nose was bleeding, and who was also struggling with something behind his back. By the entertainment unit, which Nina dusted once a week, the big policeman from the other night was yanking at something and cursing. On the other side of the entertainment unit, Mr. Herk was doing the same thing.

Nina ran to Anna. "Mrs. Anna!" she said, pulling down Anna's bra.

"Nina, they took Jenny," said Anna. "They took her."

"Nina," said Monica, turning sideways and holding out her bound hands. "Untie me. Desatame."

Nina picked at the knots on Monica's wrists and had them loose in a few seconds. Nina then untied Anna, while Monica untied Matt.

"I need a car," said Monica.

"My dad's car is outside," said Matt, digging in his pocket and pulling out the keys. "It's the Kia."

"Thanks," said Monica, grabbing the keys.

"What're you doin', Monica?" asked Walter, from the entertainment unit.

"I'm going after the creep before he gets too far," said Monica.

"How do you know where he's going?" asked Walter.

"He said he had a plane to catch," said Monica. "I think he's going to MIA."

"Get me loose from this first," said Walter, yanking his cuffed arm.

"Walter," said Monica, "I don't have the handcuff keys, and I don't have time to take those shelves apart. Get yourself loose and call the station and tell them to get somebody out to the airport."

"You can't leave me stuck here!" said Walter. "How'm I gonna ... "

"Walter," said Monica, heading for the door, "I gotta go now."

"s.h.i.t," said Walter, yanking violently on the entertainment unit, sending the photo of Jenny and Anna clattering to the floor. "s.h.i.t!"

Anna caught Monica in the foyer. "I'm going with you," she said.

"You stay here," said Monica, opening the door.

Anna grabbed Monica's arm with both hands, gripping it hard. "That's my daughter," she said, "and I am going with you."