The Distance Beacons (The Last P.I. Series, Book 2) by Bowker Richard

Author:Bowker, Richard [Bowker, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2012-11-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Riding a bicycle at night is not something I recommend. I had a little flashlight with some precious batteries, but it couldn't do much to dispel the darkness. Still, I didn't have time to walk—and walking is not much safer.

The streets were entirely empty now; everyone was indoors, trying to stay out of the way of the Feds. I was reminded of the awful time of the Frenzy, when to go out after dark was to risk death—or worse—at the hands of mobs whose every inhibition disappeared when the sun went down. Perhaps this fear was not quite as bad—the Feds weren't crazy, after all—but it was bad enough. I was careful to duck out of the way the few times I heard a car approach. I had no desire to get hauled back to the Nashua Street Jail to explain why I was out on the streets.

Bobby Gallagher's warehouse in South Boston was locked up tight. I pounded on the metal door. "It's Walter," I called. "Lemme in."

Eventually the door swung open and Doctor J peered out. "Gee, Wally," he said. "Whatcha doin' here?"

I brought my bicycle inside. Brutus started barking at me. "I've got a business proposition for your boss. And Mickey. Are they in?"

"Of course they're in. Where else would they be?"

"Are you crazy, Wally?" Bobby called down from the top of the stairs.

I went up the stairs to him while Brutus went wild with indignation. "I need to talk to you and Mickey," I said.

"Couldn't it wait till morning? This ain't the night to be cruising through the city."

"I understand. But no, it can't wait."

"Geez. Must be important. Step into my office."

Bobby's office was a tasteful blend of used office furniture and orange shag carpeting and fake-wood paneling and water-stained acoustic ceiling tiles. I sat on a gray metal folding chair and waited while Bobby collected Mickey from somewhere in the warren of rooms on the second floor. Doctor J also came upstairs, and in a couple of minutes the meeting was ready to convene.

"You don't look so hot, Walter," Mickey noted.

"Things haven't been going well," I said. And I summarized for them my run-ins with TSAR and the Feds.

"Hey, Wally, this private eye shit has gotta stop," Bobby said when I had finished. "You're safer gettin' into shootouts with O'Malley's gang."

"You're probably right. But I've got this case now, and I'd like to solve it."

Bobby shrugged. "All right. So where do we fit in?"

"Well, I've got this theory." I took a breath as I considered my meager evidence. "See, there were a couple of things about what happened on the plaza today that I sort of half-noticed. They finally came back to me after I'd gone over it in my mind a hundred times or so, and I think maybe they're important. First of all, there was the car. It was awfully loud—it didn't have a muffler. Remember when we were stopped on Route 2 that night, Mickey, and a car passed us?"

Mickey nodded.

"This car sounded a lot like the car that night.

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