‘Yes, sir, that’s me.’
Parker put both hands under the table, gesturing that his hands were touching the underside, then again pointed at her side of the table.
‘May we come in?’
‘Sure. Could I ask’
‘Are you moving in or out, sir?’
At last she reached under her table, and her eyes widened.
‘Moving in. Slowly, slowly.’
‘I suppose that would explain it.’
Parker patted the air with palms down: Don’t move it yet.
‘Explain what?’
‘You are aware of the robbery last night.’
‘Robbery? No, what robbery?’
‘Mr Roderick, a massive jewel theft and fire took place last night just up the road from here, and you don’t knowabout it?’
‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t have a TV here, I don’t even have a radio. I stayed home and read last night. I didn’t’
‘You don’t have a phone, either.’
‘No, I don’t it isn’t in yet.’
‘We’re phoning residents, asking if anyone saw anything, but you don’t have a phone.’
‘No, not yet.’
‘You haven’t applied for a phone.’
‘No, I haven’t got a’
‘There’s a Dumpster out here, but you have no contractor. No one’s doing work on the property.’
‘Officer, I live mostly in Texas. There’ve been business problems there recently. I’ve been delayed in’
‘How many of you are staying here, Mr Roderick?’
‘At the moment, just me. My family’s still’
A different cop voice said, ‘Someone else came into the living room, went back out again. I saw it through the window.’
‘That was me,’ Melander said, still sounding affable, while Carlson and Ross were getting more and more edgy, hands flexing on the shotguns. ‘I had my coffee cup in my hand, went back to’
‘It wasn’t you,’ the second cop voice said. ‘It was somebody shorter.’
The first cop, sounding tougher, less polite, said, ‘Mr Roderick, how many of you are in the house right now?’
‘Just me, I’m telling’
‘Mr Roderick, I’m afraid I’m going to have to search the house.’
‘I don’t see why. I’m just a guy from Texas trying to fix up this’
‘And we’ll have to begin with a search of your person, sir.’
‘Me? Search me?’
‘Sir, if you’ll lean against the wall, arms spread
‘
It was now. Parker snapped his fingers to get Lesley’s attention, and gestured she should toss him the gun. Carlson heard the snap, saw the gesture, saw the Sentinel come up from under the table in Lesley’s two hands, a piece of clear tape still curling away from it, and he swung the shotgun around to shoot at Lesley, trigger going click as he squeezed.
Lesley flinched and screamedand fired the Sentinel, the flat crackof it bouncing in the room, the bullet missing Carlson, beelining somewhere into the living room, where the cops and Melander were.
Parker was on his feet, turning in a quick circle to his left, away from the doorway, reaching for the chairback behind him with his left hand. The pains in his torso drove knives into him, shot arcs of lightning across his vision, popped the sweat beads onto his forehead, but he kept turning, picking up the chair at the end of his left arm, swinging it in a loop that intersected with Ross, who had already fired his shotgun uselessly twice at Parker’s head. The chair knocked him off balance to his right, into the doorway.
There was already shooting out there. Melander had probably drawn his automatic when he saw the situation going to hell, and had gone down pulling a trigger that just wouldn’t deliver.
Ross reeled into the doorway space to the living room, clutching the shotgun, and was brought up short by a sudden squadron of bullets that knocked him backward, knocked the shotgun from his hands, knocked him to the ground.
Lesley had emptied the Sentinel, two-handed, into Carlson, who sprawled in a seated position on the floor
