Текст книги "Death Trick "

Автор книги: Richard Stevenson

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Truckman drove away first, as he had the last time; then the chief; then the plainclothesman, the asshole in the wind-breaker who'd frisked me and spoken disrespectfully during the raid at the Rat's Nest.

As the plainclothesman pulled his Trans-Am onto Western, two unmarked vans that had been parked nearby came to life and pulled into his path, blocking him. The man in the windbreaker jumped from his car cursing and sputtering, and we could make out the look of befuddlement on his face when the back doors of the vans were flung open and seven extremely large men in white jackets poured out and surrounded him. One of the big beefy fellows waved a document in the cop's face, and then they carried him off. He fought, but the straitjacket fit nicely. Within three minutes they were gone, and Timmy and I fell laughing raucously into the pile of tires.

Epilogue

Eddie Storrs was locked up again, this time forever. Stuart and Jane Blount fled back to Saratoga. Chris Porterfield returned to Albany; Timmy and I had a nice Sunday brunch with her and Margarita Mayes, and they sold us a February vacation trip to Key West. Billy Blount moved in with Huey Brownlee, at least temporarily. Mark Deslonde—who had gone back to his apartment that Friday night to pick up some belongings and gotten distracted by his mirror—moved in with Phil permanently. And I moved in with Timmy.

Late on the first night in my new home, I said to Timmy,

"One thing. When you and Blount were in that cubicle at the tubs that day—what did you two do all that time?"

"Oh, fucked and whatnot. Blount was worried about his sexuality. He said he needed reassurance. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just wondering."

Some Jesuit. This wasn't going to get easier.