The Fugitive Pigeon by Donald E. Westlake

Author:Donald E. Westlake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Media
Published: 2018-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Chloe said, “I been listening in the hall, Charlie. You told him your story, and he wouldn’t believe you. Now let’s go.”

I said, “We’ve got to be careful. Trask and Slade are downstairs.”

“Who?”

So she hadn’t been listening that long. “The two guys,” I explained, “that’ve been looking for me.”

Mr. Gross said, “Young lady, I was aware the younger generation had gone astray, but to be a willing accomplice in the cold-blooded murder of your own father is, it seems to me, carrying bohemianism too far.”

Chloe gave him a look of scorn. “Don’t be any more of a moron than you have to be,” she told him.

I said, “Wait a minute. She didn’t mean that, Mr. Gross.”

She frowned at me. “I didn’t?”

“When this all over,” I told her, “I’m going to want my job back in the bar. I’m not out to fight the organization.” I turned to Mr. Gross. “You’re making a mistake, Mr. Gross,” I said. “And I’m going to prove it to you. All I want is the job I had, and to be left alone.”

“If the facts weren’t so clear, the conclusions so inescapable,” he said, “I could almost believe you. You should have been an actor.”

I said, “Mr. Gross, if I came here to kill you, why don’t I do it right now? If that’s Miss Althea there, why doesn’t she kill you right now?”

“Because of Trask and Slade downstairs,” he said reasonably. “As you just told the Farmer’s daughter, their presence means you’ll have to be careful. You can’t risk the noise of a shot.”

Chloe was looking gimlet-eyed at Mr. Gross. “What did he mean by that crack?” she wanted to know.

We both looked at her. “What crack?” I said.

“That crack about the farmer’s daughter.” She stared daggers. “Just what did you mean by that, Fatso?”

Mr. Gross looked insulted, which on him meant his face got a greenish tinge again. I said, “It wasn’t a crack. He didn’t mean anything by it. I’ll explain it later.”

“He better watch his lip,” she said.

I said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Gross, but I’m going to have to tie you and gag you. So we can get away.”

Mr. Gross said, “Harvey, call for help. Luke, you too.”

Harvey opened his mouth and said, “HELP!”

Luke did, too.

Now, that wasn’t fair. Chloe and I were the ones with the guns, we were the desperate characters. According to the rules, Mr. Gross and Luke and Harvey should all have been very quiet and very obedient and very meek. Instead, Harvey and Luke were both saying, “HELP!” not quite in unison, and under the racket Mr. Gross was looking at us with the patient smile of an inevitably victorious Lucy about to play another game of checkers with Charlie Brown.

We had our choice. We could shoot everybody and run, or we could just run.

We just ran.

“This way!” I shouted, over the shouting of Harvey and Luke, who had leaned closer together in the style of barbershop quartets and who were practically making a theme song out of HELP.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.