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People were swarming after us now that the gunplay was obviously done with. Bra
“—Lord, did you see that—”
“—Shooting a man just because he caused an accident—”
“—Cops—”
“—Woman in the Olds isn’t even hurt—”
Bra
Duke was in a semi-conscious daze. His jaw hung loose and his eyes were blank. He was bleeding badly.
There was the sound of a siren, evidently headed for the smash-up from nearby, probably from the Charles Street station. The run had started my head throbbing again where Duke had skulled me a few hours before.
“Turner, get back up to the corner and grab the first team that shows up,” Bra
Turner went off. I shut the door after him. Mrs. People’s Chairman was still gaping. “My window. What happened? Is he—?”
“Law,” Bra
“Wet — Oh, yes, right away.” She stood there another minute, staring at the widening stain of blood soaking into the upholstery along Duke’s shoulder. Her eyes went hopelessly toward the smashed window. I supposed you couldn’t blame her for being somewhat concerned. Finally she went off.
Bra
“Damn it,” Bra
“He’ll live.”
“I caught him in the thigh. You saw that.”
“Sure.”
“I thought the silly son of a bitch would just go down.”
“It was just a freak.”
“These punk kids. These damned punk kids.”
There was another siren. We were standing in the middle of enough lamps to illuminate Mi
Turner got back. Two uniformed cops were with him. “Second car’s there now,” he reported. “There was a woman driving the Olds. Got banged up a little but she looks okay. We called for two wagons just in case.”
“You tell them to get the first one down here?”
“Yes.”
Bra
“Right,” Turner said.
Bra
I started to follow him. “That’s the one who shot him,” a thin-faced busybody was saying after Bra
“What’d it do, make you stain your bloomers, Mac?” Turner snarled behind me. “Go the hell home and change, huh?”
I walked up. Bra
There wasn’t much damage. The right rear fender of the Olds was crushed back like the lecherous grin of a toothless old man, and the wheel was badly out of line. Duke’s front fender was crumpled also, but then he’d wanted to smash it against my head anyhow. There were three neat punctures in the metal just below his back window from Turner’s shooting. I didn’t see the woman who’d been driving the Olds.
Flowers Say It Better had backed off into Perry. A lanky young Negro unfolded himself from the curb near it, tossed away a smoke and came over to me.
“Can you take my name and tag and let me cruise out of here?” he wanted to know. I’ve got a mess of orchids in there for a party who’s going to be right upset if he gets buried without them.”
I nodded toward Bra
“Don’t you gotta always?” he said wearily. He sauntered over that way.
I went over and leaned against Bra
I dragged on a Camel, watching a Village fag come by. Not just another amateur, this one was a classic, a prototype. He was wearing purple pants about four sizes too small, desert boots with tiny bells on the ends of the laces, a tailored blouse. He had a single gold earring in his left ear, none in the right. He was leading an expensive Siamese cat on a pink ribbon that matched his blouse. The cat had the same tiny bells on its collar. I supposed the cat was that way, too.
Bra
I gave him one. He was looking across at the antique shop and his face was flushed slightly. Two young boys in dungarees were staring at him.
“There’s blood on your shirt, mister.”
Bra
“You all cleared?”
“That son of a bitch,” he said. “That crummy punk. I should have put one into the middle of his spinal column, trying to cut us down that way. And instead I feel my guts flop over when I see him go through that window. Twenty-three years on this job and I still… Damn it, Fa
I gave him a folder, ignoring all that. “Listen,” I told him, “I haven’t eaten since about Mother’s Day. You want to sit with a cup of coffee while I grab a bite before we run through the apartment?”
“Hell, what time is it?”
“Twenty to ten.”
“And it was three-thirty when she got knifed.”
“Close enough.”
“Six hours and ten minutes. And what have we got?” He handed me back the matches. I’ll tell you what we’ve got. We haven’t got a pot.”
“Let’s eat, huh?”
“What the hell,” Bra
We walked down Seventh. After about two blocks we found a place that looked all right. It was grand. They had imitation Aztec carvings on the orange-and-green-striped walls and they gave us underdone eggs and yesterday’s coffee. We might have stayed all day, but a sign over the register said that occupancy by more than thirty-eight people was dangerous and unlawful and we would have hated for them to get into trouble on our account. Thirty-seven other customers might have dropped in at any moment.