She Murdered Me with Science by David Boop

Author:David Boop [Boop, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction, noir, pulp, mystery, forensics, private investigators, scientists, mad scientists, MASER, Mayans, ninjas, hit men, femme fatales, interracial romance, the Fifties, Chicago, Dwight D Eisenhower, J. Edgar Hoover, Art Shay, James Watson, Trumple Park, The Green Mill, casinos, The Blues, boxing, Sidney Bechet, Rocky Graziano, nuclear weapons, assassinations, Joseph Stalin, spies, con artistes, The Technocrats, military combat, racial tensions, GO game, Hudson cars, Allen Dulles, Arthur William Radford, Bessie Smith, Margaret Johnson, MVD Russian secret police, Alexander Bogdanov, Fredrick Taylor
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2017-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The first thing I realized, as the synapses fired in the gray matter I called a brain, was that I couldn’t feel the left side of my body. I was semi-sure that was due to the concrete floor I had woken up on. There was no light, but I could hear the plink-plink of droplets forming a small puddle. I sat up and rubbed feeling into my numb extremities.

There was no light, so I felt my way to a metal wall. I rapped on it and heard an echo. Three walls connected to open space, the back against concrete. I was in some sort of storage locker. The door was predictably locked from the outside.

Sweet had gotten my clothes from Goodwill. On the offbeat chance, I checked the pockets and came up with a lighter. It looked as if it had gone through a wash, so I tested it to see if the torch would light. The gasper lit on the twelfth try. I extinguished it because I saw nothing I hadn’t already guessed before.

The dripping came from one of three pipes that ran perpendicular to my room. I touched one; it was hot. The second was cold, but the third was just right. The hot line was the one dripping a slow drip. There was rust around the joint, and it gave me an idea.

I was counting on the third line being the gas line. I’d have a chance to escape if the joint would give. I gathered water from the puddle and poured it on the junction. There wasn’t enough water to do the job I needed, but any extra help would be appreciated. I started pushing against the joint. The pipe was old, and I worried I would break it in two, which wouldn’t do me any good. I needed just a little crack.

I was still alive, which meant things had changed for the mysterious Mr. X. The fact that the Hero Twin hadn’t immediately avenged his brother led me to believe Mr. X had him on a tight leash, and if that was the case, Mr. X was someone to be afraid of.

Lights came on outside my container. There were the sounds of people filing into the area. I pressed my ear against the front wall. I could hear the buzz of a crowd. Then things quieted down. Footsteps approached. Whatever was going to happen to me was happening now. I worked the pipe quickly, applying all my strength to the joint. I felt it give some and placed my hawk-like nose near it. I smelled the telltale trickle of gas leaking out. However, it was too little, and it needed to pool more for my plan to work. I needed to stall. I scrunched down in the corner just as the door swung open.

The Twin that ankled in was different than the one I remembered from the train and from the library. He was smaller. His stance was off, less rigid. The angle of his body was smoother, and the outfit seemed a size too big on it.

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