Of course. God would never let you climb a dry water slide. That would be too easy.
He grabbed the sides of the slide and started to pull himself
I’m wrong, he thought. There’s no one up here. They wouldn’t dare take another shot at Polly, not now, not when Bascaglia called them off.
He slipped and landed on his face as he heard: I HAVE COMMITTED ONE ATTEMPTED MURDER… TWICE… MAY BE PLANNING ANOTHER… IS PLANNING A MORTAL OR VENIAL SIN? THE HELL AM I ASKING? YOU DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH…
“You tapped a man’s confessional?” Joey croaked. “You came between a man and his God? What kind of people are you!”
“DEA,” Chuck answered.
“Baptists,” Candy said.
THERE WERE FIVE FORNICATIONS… OKAY, THREE… TWENTY-EIGHT IMPURE THOUGHTS… AND I THINK AN EXTORTION. MAYBE IT’s BLACKMAIL. HARD TO SAY…
“You had it coming, Joey,” Polly said.
“You should talk, you whore,” answered Joey.
THEN, OF COURSE, THERE WAS THE DAY’S PROTECTION MONEY, BUT THAT SKINFLINT CARMINE GETS A BIG PIECE OF THAT…
“For God’s sake, Joey,” Harold moaned. “Did you think this was a priest or dear fucking Abby?”
“Shut up.”
Graham arrived on the scene.
“Carmine heard this last night, Joey,” he said. “But I told him we wanted to surprise you. I figure you got maybe a three-hour start if you get going now. Unless Carmine’s already talked to Harold here.”
Joey looked wildly around.
“Harold, shoot somebody,” he said.
Harold’s eye was sending telegrams.
“Sorry, boss,” he said.
“Leave now, Mr. Foglio,” Candy said. “There has been more than enough dying.”
Foglio straightened himself up and looked her dead in the eye. “You’ll get yours, you bitch.”
Any second now.
The high-banked curves were tough because he kept slipping and getting water in his mouth. Neal found he could dig one foot into the curved side and push while he pulled himself up with his hands. It was taking time, though, and he was running out of time.
Karen tried to stay on the terrace. She really did. But she saw her friends down there, people she loved: Candy Landis, the flawed but somehow lovable-and pregnant-Polly Paget, and Joe Graham.
Dear, dear Joe Graham.
She ran down the stairs and started across the terrace, waving her arms and yelling.
NOW THERE WAS ONE MURDER MAYBE I HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH, BUT IT WAS REALLY THAT MUTT OVERTIME.
Excuse me, Overtime thought. I think we’ve all heard about enough.
He leaned out of the starting chamber and raised the rifle. He caught some movement from the corner of his eye and shifted the scope.
Oh, this is too good, he thought. There she is, running like a deer across a meadow. And no baseball bat. No dog.
Decisions, decisions.
Problem: So many targets, so little time.
Analysis: If you shoot her first, you’ll spook the money targets.
Consideration: Always shoot for the money. When they start dropping, she’ll freeze and you can drop her where she stands.
Decision: Get to work. Shoot for the money first, then protection, then pleasure.
Just in, just out. Professional.
Of course, there are two money targets.
ONE JERK-OFF, TWO PETTY THEFTS, ONE ASSAULT… I PRAYED FOR CARMINE TO DIE. IS THAT A SIN?
“I ain’t going down alone, Hathaway,” Joey said pointedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hathaway asked.
“It’s all on the tape, Mr. Hathaway,” Chuck said as he pulled his revolver and pointed it at Hathaway’s chest, “but we do thank you for coming today.”
“You set me up,” Hathaway accused Candy.
Graham saw his eyes glance up at the water slide.
I MEAN, CARMINE’S WHACKED MORE GUYS THAN CARTER HAS PILLS…
Neal was winded by the time he hit the last long slope to the top. He had to lie on his stomach and pull himself up, and his hands kept slipping.
And he heard Karen yelling. Then his hands slipped and he slid backward.
“Get down!” Karen yelled.
“What’s she saying?” asked Candy.
“Bye-bye,” Joey Beans answered.
OKAY, ONTO VULGAITIES…
Overtime centered the crosshairs on Foglio’s square forehead. He had worked out his priorities: Make Carmine happy first, then Peter, then take Polly out, then the bitch from Nevada, then maybe the one-armed dwarf who’d set him up, the gray-haired cop…
As they say, Idle hands are the devil’s playground.
He started to apply that gentle persuasion to the trigger.
Or… do Candy first, which will make Joey think he’s safe, then whack the bitch from Nevada, then the one- armed dwarf, then…
Neal grabbed onto the side and caught himself. He threw one foot out and managed to get straight and start pulling up again. Water streamed into his face. He had his mouth clamped shut, but the water was coming into his nose and he started to choke.
He craned his neck and saw Overtime’s back and the rifle come up to his cheek.
The killer was just out of reach.
Neal opened his mouth to scream.
No… do the bitch first before she spooks everyone, then Joey, then Candy, then…
One thing at a time.
He was drawing the lead on Karen when he heard a drowning voice yell, “NOOOO!”
He squeezed the trigger just as the hand grabbed his arm.
Chuck heard the crack of the rifle, knocked Candy down, and lay on top of her.
TWELVE F- WORDS, TWENTY OR THIRTY SHITS…
Karen felt the rush of wind over her head and dived for cover.
Joe Graham crawled toward her.
Polly stood in the middle of the plaza, asking, “What the hell is this?”
TOO MANY GODDAMNS, FOR WHICH I’M SORRY, OKAY?
Hathaway ran.
Harold looked at Joey and said, “Get outta here, Joey.”
“The hell difference it makes?” Joey asked. “If Carmine wants me
…”
“A day at a time, huh?” Harold said. “Go on… before I don’t have an excuse not to whack you.”
Another rifle shot went off.
THAT’S ABOUT IT, FATHER, TAKE IT EASY ON THE ACTS OF CONTRITION, HUH?
“You’re okay, Harold,” Joey said.
“Long life, boss.”
