Part 13 (1/2)
”I don't know. Some weird fat guy, he kept yelling 'Freeze' and shooting at us.”
”Who was with you?”
”My friends Matt and Jenny.”
A synapse fired in Monica's brain. Andrew, Matt, and Jenny. She couldn't quite remember where she'd heard those names, but she knew she had.
”What were you doing back there?”
”Matt was gonna kill Jenny,” said Andrew.
”He was gonna what?”
”With a squirt gun,” said Andrew. ”It's just a game.”
”Oh Jesus,” said Monica, remembering now who Andrew, Matt, and Jenny were. ”Are you talking about that, whaddyacallit, Killer?”
”Yeah!” said Andrew. ”That's it! Killer!”
Monica sighed, wondering why these kids couldn't settle for the innocent diversions of her youth, such as drinking beer and groping each other.
A backup police cruiser arrived, siren yelping. Monica took Walter aside and said, ”Let's leave the kid with these officers and check behind the five-and-dime, see if there's a shooter back there.”
Walter snorted again. ”You believe this punk?” he asked.
”I just wanna look, OK?” said Monica.
”OK,” said Walter, ”but all you're gonna find back there is ... ”
”POLICE! HELP POLICE!”
The hoa.r.s.e shout came from the thick figure of Jack Pend.i.c.k, Crime Fighter, stumbling out of the alley. Seeing the police cruiser, he lurched toward it.
”POLICE!” he shouted. ”POLICE!” He kept shouting it as he approached, until he was shouting it directly into Monica's face, thus giving her a strong whiff of rum fumes.
”POLICE!” he shouted, yet again.
”That's correct,” said Monica, putting her hand on his chest and gently pus.h.i.+ng him back a step, which nearly caused him to fall down. ”We are the police. And who might you be?”
”They were gonna shoot her!” said Pend.i.c.k.
”Who was?” asked Monica.
”Perpetrators!” explained Pend.i.c.k. ”They took her back there with a gun and ... Hey! That's one a them!”
Pend.i.c.k was squinting at Andrew.
”That's one a the perpetrators!” he said.
”It was a squirt gun, dork,” said Andrew.
”And so you ... what's your name, please?” said Monica.
”Jack Pend.i.c.k,” he said.
”So, Mr. Pend.i.c.k,” said Monica, ”you saw these people with the gun, and then what?”
”I tailed 'em,” said Pend.i.c.k, proudly. ”I was gonna be in lawn forcement.”
”Good for you,” said Monica. ”Did you have a gun with you?”
”I got a gun,” said Pend.i.c.k. ”Need it for my line a work.”
”And that is?” asked Monica.
”Sungla.s.ses,” said Pend.i.c.k.
”Sungla.s.ses?” asked Monica.
”I got fired,” explained Pend.i.c.k.
”I see,” said Monica, rubbing her temple. ”And where is your gun now?”
”I lost it back there,” said Pend.i.c.k, gesturing toward the alley and almost falling down as a result.
Monica got the .38 out of the cruiser and showed it to him.
”Is this your gun?” she asked.
Pend.i.c.k squinted at it.
” 'At's it!” he said. ”Can I have it back? I need it for my line a work.”
”Not right now,” said Monica. ”So, so you followed the perpetrators into the alley, and then what?”
”He was gonna shoot her!” said Pend.i.c.k. ”The perpetrooter! He was pointin' his gun at her!”
”His squirt gun,” said Andrew.
”An' so I, I yelled, 'FREEZE!' ” said Pend.i.c.k.
”And then what?” asked Monica.
”And then ... ” Pend.i.c.k paused. For the first time, in his small, alcohol-drenched brain, he began to sense that perhaps he should be careful about what he said.
”And then what?” asked Monica.
”I don't remember,” Pend.i.c.k said.