Part 49 (1/2)

”How? With what?”

When Carrie told him, Skink frowned. ”I guess I'd better get going.”

She said, ”Can you zip me up? There's a little hook at the top.”

Skink set down the gas cans and fastened the back of her gown. He wondered what had happened to the Indian theme.

”When do you go on?” he asked.

”Half an hour.”

”The dress is lovely,” he said, stepping back. ”Half an hour it is.”

”Thanks. Wish me luck.”

”You'll do fine.”

Carrie turned from the mirror. ”Should I wait for Joe?”

”Of course,” said Skink, ”but not too long.”

When they got to the security office, Pedro Luz ordered Joe Winder to remove the racc.o.o.n costume and hang it neatly in the uniform closet. Then Pedro Luz dragged Winder into the storage room, clubbed him to the floor and beat him seven or eight times with the crutcha”Joe Winder lost count. Every time Pedro Luz struck a blow, he emitted a queer high-pitched peep that sounded like a baby sparrow. When he finally stopped to rest, he was panting heavily and his face shone with damp splotches. Spying from a fetal position on the floor, Joe Winder watched Pedro Luz swallow two handfuls of small orange tablets. Winder a.s.sumed these were not muscle relaxants.

”I can kill you with my bare hands,” Pedro Luz said informatively.

Winder sat up, hugging his own chest to prevent pieces of broken ribs from snapping off like dead twigs. He couldn't figure out why Pedro Luz kept a full-length mirror in the storage room.

”It's raining outside,” Pedro Luz said.

”That's what we're waiting for?”

”Yeah. Soon as it stops, I'll take you out and kill you.”

Pedro Luz stripped off his s.h.i.+rt and began to work out with a pair of heavy dumbbells; he couldn't take his eyes off his own glorious biceps. The syncopation of Pedro's breathing and pumping put Joe Winder to sleep. When he awoke much later, still on the floor, he saw that Pedro Luz had put on a fresh uniform. The security man rose unsteadily and reached for the crutch; his hands trembled and his eyelids were mottled and puffy.

”The parade starts soon,” he said. ”Everyone in the park goes to watcha”that's when you're gonna break into the ticket office to rip off the cashboxes.”

”And you're going to catch me in the act, and shoot me.”

”Yeah,” Pedro Luz wheezed, ”in the back.”

”Pretty sloppy. The cops'll have plenty of questions.”

”I'm still thinking it through.” His head lolled and he shut his eyes. Joe Winder sprang for the door and regretted it instantly. Pedro Luz was on him like a mad bear; he grabbed Winder at the base of the neck and hurled him backward into the stock shelves.

”And that was one-handed,” Pedro Luz bragged. ”How much do you weigh?”

Winder answered, with a groan, ”One seventy-five.”

The security man beamed. ”Light as a feather. No problem.”

”I'd like to speak with your boss one more time.”

”No way.” Pedro Luz hoisted Winder from a tangle of intravenous tubes and set him down in a bare corner. He said, ”Remember, I still got that gun you were carryinga”I figure that's my throwdown. The story is, I had to shoot you because of the gun.”

Winder nodded. ”I'm a.s.suming there'll be no witnesses.”

”Course not. They'll all be at the parade.”

”What about the rain, Pedro? What if the parade's washed out?”

”It's August, a.s.shole. The rain don't last long.” Pedro Luz hammered the heel of his hand against the side of his skull, as if trying to knock a wasp out of his ear. ”G.o.d, it's loud in here.”

”I don't mean to nag,” Joe Winder said, ”but you ought to lay off the steroids.”

”Don't start with me!” Pedro Luz cracked the door and poked his head out. ”See, it's stopped already. Just a drizzle.” He gripped Joe Winder by the shoulder. ”Let's go, smarta.s.s.”

But Winder could barely walk for the pain. Outside, under a low muddy sky, the tourists rushed excitedly toward Kingsbury Lane, where a band had begun to play. Pedro Luz marched Winder against the flow of yammering, gummy-faced children and their anxious, umbrella-wielding parents. The ticket office was on the other side of the park, a long hike, and Joe Winder had planned to use the time to devise a plan for escape. Instead his thoughts meandered inanely; he noticed, for example, what a high percentage of the Amazing Kingdom's tourists were clinically overweight. Was this a valid cross-section of American society? Or did fat people travel to Florida more frequently than thin people? Three times Winder slowed to ponder the riddle, and three times Pedro Luz thwacked the back of his legs with the dreaded crutch. No one stopped to interfere; most likely they a.s.sumed that Winder was a purse s.n.a.t.c.her or some other troublemaker being rousted by Security.

Eventually the crowds thinned and the light rain stopped. The two men were alone, crossing the walkway that spanned the dolphin tank. The swim-along attraction had closed early because the trainers were needed at the parade, in case the lion got testy. Joe Winder heard a burst of applause across the amus.e.m.e.nt parka”fireworks blossoming over Kingsbury Lane. The pageant had begun!

Winder thought of Carrie Lanier, and hoped she had the good sense not to come looking for him. He felt Pedro Luz's crutch jab him between the shoulder blades. ”Hold it,” the security man commanded.

A h.o.a.ry figure appeared at the end of the walkway ahead of them. It was a tall man carrying two red containers.

”Now what?” said Pedro Luz.

Joe Winder's heart sank. Skink didn't see them. He went down two nights of stairs and stacked the gas cans on the back of a Cushman motor cart. He ran back up the steps, disappeared through an unmarked door near the Rare Animal Pavilion and quickly emerged with two more cans of gasoline.

”The Catacombs,” Pedro Luz said, mainly to himself.

Joe Winder heard him unsnap the holster. He turned and told Pedro Luz not to do anything crazy.

”Shut up, smarta.s.s.”

As they watched Skink load the second pair of cans onto the Cushman, Winder realized his own mistake: he had tried too hard to be reasonable and civilized and possibly even clever. Such efforts were wasted on men such as Francis X. Kingsbury. Skink had the right idea.

Pedro Luz aimed his.45 and shouted, ”Freeze right there!” Skink stopped at the top of the steps. Pedro Luz ordered him to raise his hands, but Skink acted as if he didn't hear.

”Don't I know you?” Skink said, coming closer.

Pedro Luz found it difficult to look directly at the bearded stranger because one of the man's eyeb.a.l.l.s seemed dislodged from the socket. As Skink approached, he gave no indication of recognizing Joe Winder.

”h.e.l.lo, gentlemen,” he said. Casually he bent to examine the taped stump of Pedro Luz's leg. ”Son, you're dropping more parts than a Ford Pinto.”

Fl.u.s.tered, Pedro Luz fell back on standard harda.s.s-cop colloquy: ”Lemme see some ID.”