Part 33 (1/2)

”Of course not.” Melford nodded. ”Just tell yourself that, and the rip in the fabric of reality will mend itself. Soon you'll even doubt you ever met me. Everything in your experience will tell you that I must have been a figment of your imagination, and reality will swallow up poor Melford into the oblivion of bills and TV commercials and a weekly paycheck.”

”I'll miss you,” I said, ”but I'm kind of looking forward to it, too.”

When I looked up I saw Desiree running toward us. Her scantily covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s swung wildly, and she was gesturing with her hands. I didn't know what it meant, but it looked significant.

She threw open the back door and jumped in. ”Drive fast,” she said to Melford.

He put the car into gear and slammed down on the gas. It was an old car and didn't respond exceptionally well, but it still responded, and we were off the farm and on the dirt road, heading toward the highway, before Melford even had a chance to ask.

”It's the lab,” she said. ”I rigged it to blow, but I'm not sure how much time we have. I figured it would be best to make sure we were away from the explosions and toxic fumes.”

There's no arguing with good logic, I thought. Still, her panic proved unnecessary, and we were a good three or four miles away before the thick cloud of black smoke rose behind us. We never heard the blast, just the long serenade of police sirens.

Chapter 37.

BY THE TIME WE GOT BACK to the motel, there were half a dozen or more county sheriff's cars parked outside, their lights flas.h.i.+ng silently against the black cloud we'd left behind us. All the guests stood outside their rooms, some fully dressed, some in bathrobes or pajamas or boxer shorts. A little girl in a pink nightgown clutched a stuffed giraffe in one hand and her distracted mother's sweats.h.i.+rt in the other. to the motel, there were half a dozen or more county sheriff's cars parked outside, their lights flas.h.i.+ng silently against the black cloud we'd left behind us. All the guests stood outside their rooms, some fully dressed, some in bathrobes or pajamas or boxer shorts. A little girl in a pink nightgown clutched a stuffed giraffe in one hand and her distracted mother's sweats.h.i.+rt in the other.

We got out of Melford's car just in time to see the cops leading the Gambler away. He was in handcuffs and bent over, doing what I would later hear called ”the perp walk.” Just behind him, a pair of cops were leading away Ronny Neil and Scott. Officer Toms was taking statements from some of the people from the Gambler's crew. Bobby stood by, looking stunned. Maybe before I'd learned about his little trick I'd have felt bad, even guilty, about ruining his career. I figured unemployment was the least he deserved.

”This is unexpected,” I said softly.

”To you, perhaps. Didn't you wonder why I showed up at the motel room to tell them you were my source? In part it was to get your enemies in trouble, sure. But there was more.”

”And what was that more?”

”I planted a few choice items from b.a.s.t.a.r.d's trailer in the room and then made an anonymous call. It won't take that much digging for them to connect the Gambler to the drug trade he had going with Jim Doe and the rest of them. It will all make perfect sense.”

I shook my head. ”The Gambler's a bad guy, don't get me wrong, but he didn't kill all those people. He's going to be charged with multiple murders.”

”Yeah,” Melford said. ”All he really did was use his encyclopedia salesmen to peddle speed to teenagers, many of whom are no doubt dead. Of those who live, virtually all will lead lives only a shadow of their former potential. Boy, how unjust his punishment will be.”

”But don't you think that . . .”

”That what? That I should take the blame myself so the Gambler can walk free? Forget it. I'm a post-Marxist vigilante, and I have a job to do. I make the world a better place. And that world will do very nicely without the Gambler on the streets.”

”Is the world better off without B. B. Gunn, too? He's dead, you know.”

”Yeah, I know. Either the Gambler or Doe killed him, so either way, justice is served.”

”Your justice.”

”Who is fit to judge all mankind if not me?” He went around to the back of the car and opened up the hatchback. He lifted up the carpeted floor and revealed a briefcase. ”That's yours. Not right now when there are cops everywhere, but before we part ways.”

”What is it?”

Melford laughed. ”Don't play dumb with me, boy. You know what it is. It's the forty thousand dollars they've been looking for. You take it and go to college. Who knows, you might even still be able to secure a place for the coming year.”

”Holy s.h.i.+t.” What else do you say at a time like that? ”Why do you want to give it to me?”

Melford shrugged and slammed shut the hatch. ”Because if I take money for what I do, I become corrupted. I can't ever think, not for a second, that I'm engaging in an action for the money or I'll lose my way. You've felt the tendrils of ideology, and I have to do all I can to resist them. I think I've set you on the right path over the past few days. You go off, get a good humanities education. Study literature and philosophy, get your fill of the social sciences, and try to do something useful with your life.”

”I'm supposed to refuse to take it,” I said. ”Call it dirty money, tell you I want no part of it.”

”I'll be very disappointed if you do that. Don't be another automaton, Lemuel, who embraces a false morality while ignoring the real evil all around you. Take the money and escape from Florida.”

I nodded. ”Okay. I will.”

Melford laughed. ”I think we're getting somewhere with you.”