Garth, past the corduroy-suited twins, and out the door.
Outside, Garth nudged me, and I nudged him back; there was no sign of any limousines. Apparently, it had been assumed that we were through for the day when we'd gone into Rick's, and the twins had been left behind, on their own, just to make certain we were safely tucked into bed.
'Where to?' Garth asked.
'I've always considered my roof garden a wonderful place to entertain, no matter what the season.'
'Good idea. The alley and fire escape?'
'Let's do it.'
We walked to the intersection, but instead of crossing it to the next block and the front entrance to our brownstone, we turned right, quickening our pace slightly as we angled across the street. I cast a quick, furtive glance over my shoulder to make sure the tan and blue parkas were following us; they were, moving up the sidewalk in tandem, about twenty yards behind us. We slowed down to make sure the twins wouldn't miss our big move, then, halfway up the block, we ducked into the narrow alleyway that separated our brownstone from the one on the block behind us. Instantly, Garth pressed back against one wall, and I stepped back against the other.
The twin in the blue parka was the first to poke his head cautiously around the corner of the alley. Garth grabbed the fur-lined hood of his parka, rudely yanked him into the alley, and slammed him up against the brick wall. When the second twin appeared a split second later I treated him to a drop kick to the solar plexus, doubling him over. I grabbed the back of his parka, pulled him into the alley to join his brother.
My twin, the one in the tan parka, wasn't going to be able to breathe, much less speak, for a bit longer, so I turned my attention to the other one, who was staring wide-eyed into Garth's stony face.
'Yes, he does bite,' I said to the man, who then directed his attention down to me. He wriggled a bit, but Garth held him tightly up against the wall. 'Before he does, I have one question; answer it, and we'll all be on our way to see what Santa brings. Where did Nuvironment dump its hundred tons of rain forest soil?'
There was some gasping and wheezing from the twin at my feet. Slowly, both hands grasped to his stomach, he managed to get up. He took a few tentative deep breaths, looked at his brother, and nodded.
'Praise the Lord,' Garth's twin said.
'Praise the Lord,' my twin wheezed.
'Amen,' Garth said, and clipped his twin hard on the jaw. He crouched down to catch the slumping body of the unconscious man over his shoulder, then effortlessly straightened up, reached over his head, and pulled down the fire escape. 'Any criticism, Mongo?' he continued, looking at me.
'Well, maybe you're just a trifle impatient, brother,' I replied, studying the thoroughly shocked face of the twin in the tan parka. 'But then, so am I. No criticism.'
'You got your gun?'
'No.'
'Are you too old to break one of the guy's kneecaps if he tries to run away?'
'At the moment, he doesn't look like he wants to find out.'
'Good,' Garth said, and, with the twin in the blue parka still draped over his shoulder, began climbing up the fire escape. 'If he doesn't want to come up on his own, I'll be back down in a couple of minutes to get him.'
'So?' I said to my ashen-faced twin as his eyes followed the progress of his brother on my brother's shoulder as Garth climbed up into the night. It had begun to snow heavily, and they disappeared from sight as Garth passed the first floor. 'The price of declining this party invitation is to answer my question. If you do, Garth will bring your brother back down. Where's the dirt? Don't bother trying to lie, because we'll be taking the two of you with us to make sure the dirt's where you say it is.'
My twin didn't bother trying to lie; he didn't bother saying anything at all. His pinched features and dark brown eyes clearly reflecting alarm and concern for his brother, he suddenly stepped to the fire escape and began climbing up into the snowy darkness. I clambered up after him-again noting his springy step, and the easy manner in which he moved.
We arrived at the top, climbed over the brick parapet to find my brother standing over his twin, whom Garth had sat down right on top of the burlap covering one of my prize-winning rosebushes. When my twin rushed over, Garth grabbed him by the lapel of his parka, sat him down on top of a second rosebush. The twin in the blue parka had regained consciousness, although he still looked more than a bit groggy. He looked around him, saw his brother sitting beside him, reached out and took his hand. If he was about to praise the Lord again, he apparently thought better of it when he glanced up into Garth's face. Both men slumped forward on their rosebush perches, bowed their heads.
'That idiot Patton sent you two idiots to tail us,' Garth said to the men, his voice barely audible above the rising wind that whipped his wheat-colored hair about his head. 'Mongo and I should feel insulted, but we don't have time to go into that. We're looking for a little girl, and you're going to tell us where to find her. Your employers dumped a shipload of some special dirt somewhere around here. Where is it?'
The twins exchanged surprised looks, and that bothered me; they shouldn't have looked surprised. It could mean that something Garth had said-perhaps something about our assumptions-was wrong, and that would be bad news indeed.
'What's the matter?' I asked my twin, the one in the tan parka. 'Talk to us, for Christ's sake. Is it so hard for all of you people to believe that our only interest is the welfare of the child? Don't you care at
'We won't tell you anything,' my twin said. 'Praise the Lord.'
'Praise the Lord,' his brother said.
'Amen,' Garth said, and both men immediately flinched and put their hands over their faces.
But Garth didn't hit anybody. Instead, he grabbed the front of his twin's blue parka and yanked him up off the rosebush. He unceremoniously marched the man to the parapet, then, still maintaining a firm grip on the front of the man's parka, roughly sat him down on the brick.
My twin started to rise, and I kicked him in the left thigh-not hard enough to do any real damage, but with sufficient force to sit him back down again. 'You have to forgive my brother's impatience,' I said to the man as he furiously massaged his thigh. 'I know he's making a terrible first impression, but he's not really as mean-tempered as he seems. It's just that he gets very crazy about child molesters, and people who protect them. Right now, you and your brother fit into the second category.'
'Lies!' the man shouted at me. 'Lies! We know who you are! You two are the spawn of Satan! You won't trick us! You won't defeat Christ's legions in the final hour! The second seal has been opened, and you and your brother chose to ride with the red beast!'
'What does he have to say, Mongo?!' Garth shouted over the wind.
'He says we're the spawn of Satan!'
'Tell the prick he's got that right! This guy doesn't want to say anything at all! He must think he can fly! Ask your guy if he thinks his brother can fly!'
'Tell us where the dirt is, pal,' I said to the man sitting in front of me. 'That's all we want to know; we check it out, and then you and your brother can be on your way. Patton will never know that you told us, I promise you.'
'I don't know what you're talking about, spawn of Satan!' The fear and shock in the man's brown eyes had now turned to hate which was so clearly reflected in his twisted features that it startled me.
'Oh? Why were you following us?'
'You can't trick me! I won't tell you anything!'
'Then don't try to tell me you don't know what we're talking about, because you do. At least you know about the dirt. Maybe you don't know about the child, so I'll give you the story. Listen to me carefully: a lunatic by the name of William Kenecky is repeatedly raping and sodomizing a child by the name of Vicky Brown. You babble a lot of the same religious bullshit as Kenecky, but I don't think that either you or your brother molests kids. And you have absolutely no reason to protect Kenecky. We'll find Kenecky and the girl if you'll tell us where the dirt is being stored. You'll take us there, and then you'll see that what I'm saying is true.' I paused, sighed heavily. Suddenly I was filled with a great weariness, as if the man's blind zealotry and stupidity formed a great weight that was pulling at my heart, dragging me down. 'It's Christmas Eve, man,' I continued quietly. 'Imagine how you'd feel if she was your kid. Can't you give her a break?'
'Mongo?!' Garth shouted. 'What's happening over there?! Do I launch this guy or not?!'
