Capture the Saint by Barer Burl

Author:Barer, Burl [Barer, Burl]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: mystery
Publisher: The Saint Club
Published: 2009-11-27T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

How Duvall Became Illuminated, and Milo was Unforgiving.

The beast tightly twisted her hair, and she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

The Saint heard a car door slam to his right, and his peripheral vision glimpsed another bulky skinhead lean against a late model fender. A scurry of small footsteps on blacktop indicated Alisdare, breathless and agitated, was coming down the drive. By now, Simon reasoned, Salvadore had either found the shotgun or reloaded the .45.

"Tell you what, Snookums," offered Simon generously, "I'll make you a trade -- your life for the lady. Either that or I shoot all three of you and be done with it. Personally, I would opt for the latter, but multiple bodies are so hard to explain to the authorities now days, and what with the rising costs of iron clad alibis..."

"Enough!" It was Alisdare, dripping with perspiration and leveling a re-loaded shotgun. "What's going on here?"

The little man's piggy eyes bounced back and forth between the captive Viola and the armed Saint.

"This young lady is obviously taking her gorilla out for an airing," answered Simon, squinting dramatically down the sight of the .38, "apparently unaware of the bounty on exceptionally ugly gorillas."

Alisdare stared at Viola, studied her face, and understood the unsavory implications of her disarray.

"What the hell have you done to this woman?"

"Nothin', honest," objected Snookums, " I didn't do nothin' like it looks. She's that Berkman dame, the one with the street kids, we found her hangin' around the edge of the property. It’s just that she fought like a tiger when we grabbed her."

Alisdare turned to the two overweight back-ups.They each nodded uncomfortable confirmation.

"Put away the knife, stupid," Alisdare ordered and the giant reluctantly complied.

The sweat-drenched oligarch pointed the shotgun directly at Simon's head and cocked the hammers. Simon's finger increased tension on the .38's trigger.

"We can stand here like this all night if you like," murmured Simon. He glanced down the long barrel of Alisdare's weapon into the eye's of drug-fueled madness and delusions of grandeur.

"I could call the Sheriff and report those boys of yours as intruders and vandals, you know," insisted Salvadore, prodding the twin barrels at the Saint's face. "I could have them arrested and prosecuted for trespassing. I'm a respected businessman around here. People trust me."

As Alisdare believed himself to be absolutely inerrant, Simon felt it best under the circumstances not to contradict him.

"Of course people trust you. Who can blame them? You can also trust me to fire every last round in this 38 before you figure out how to take the safety off that shotgun."

Alisdare's eyes immediately locked on the stock, searching for the safety release. His attention thus diverted, Simon's left hand soared suddenly from his hip and snatched the weapon from Salvadore's pudgy hands.

"Thank you," said the Saint graciously, and he deftly allowed two shotgun shells to drop in the dirt before handing the empty weapon back to his astonished would-be captor. "We all feel much safer now."

Vi, delighted at the sudden turn of events, dashed to his side.

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