Big Trouble (22 page)

“There's a gate,” he said to Snake.

“I know there's a gate,” said Snake. “Back up to it, and it'll open.”

Gingerly, Eddie put the cruiser in reverse and pressed the gas pedal. The engine revved. The cruiser shuddered, but did not move.

“It ain't movin',” said Eddie.

Snake looked over the front seat. “You got the fuckin' brake on, asshole,” he said, pointing to a lever labeled BRAKE by Eddie's left knee.

Eddie, still revving the engine, pulled the lever. The tires squealed and the cruiser rocketed backward, smashing through the gate. As it roared into Garbanzo Street, Eddie frantically smashed his right foot onto the brake and turned the wheel; the cruiser spun in a tight, tire-smoking circle and then stopped, rocking twice on its shock absorbers.

“Jesus,” said Eddie.

Suddenly he was aware of a figure on the sidewalk next to the destroyed driveway gate. It was a guy in shorts, yelling at him.

“Get the
fuck
outta here,” said Snake. “Now.”

Eddie jammed the cruiser into drive and stomped the gas pedal. The cruiser fishtailed forward, just missing a taxi, then straightened out and shot away into the night.

“I
got rights,” said Crime Fighter Jack Pendick, for perhaps the fortieth time since he had been taken into police custody.

“Indeed you do, Mr. Pendick,” said Detective Harvey Baker. “You have rights up the wazoo. And I'm sure you're going to exercise every single one. But first you're going to go with these officers, who are going to take you to a nice room where you can lie down and see if you can get your blood alcohol content down below that 300 percent mark, OK?”

“Do I get my gun back?” asked Pendick.

“Of course you do!” said Baker. “Just as soon as we run a couple of tests and a giant, talking marshmallow is elected president.”

“OK,” said Pendick, satisfied. “Because I got rights.”

As Pendick was being led away, Baker called the radio room, for the third time, to find out if officers Ramirez and Kramitz had reported back. They had not. This bothered Baker. He thought about sending another cruiser out to check on them. But then he decided—he wasn't sure why—that he'd take a ride out to the Herk house himself.

AS soon as she was sure that the bad man was gone, Nina came out of her bedroom. She had peeked out before, when she had heard shouting; that was when she saw the bad man at the end of the hall, by the foyer. He was wearing some kind of stocking on his head, covering his face, flattening his features, so that he looked like a snake. He was holding a gun and shouting at somebody. He did not see her. She quietly closed and locked her door. After that she heard screaming and a gunshot, and she had been very scared. She wanted to call the police, but there was no telephone in her room. So she just waited, sitting on her bed, pressing her face into her hands, until the door slammed and she no longer heard the bad man talking.

When she came out, she ran down the hall, toward the sound of Mrs. Anna's crying. Rounding the partition to the living room, she stopped and put her hand over her mouth. Mrs. Anna was lying on her back with her hands under her. Her blouse was undone and her bra was pushed up; her eyes were wild like a crazy woman's. Next to her was the lady policeman who had been there the other night; she was struggling with something behind her back. Next to her was Miss Jenny's young friend Matt, whose nose was bleeding, and who was also struggling with something behind his back. By the entertainment unit, which Nina dusted once a week, the big policeman from the other night was yanking at something and cursing. On the other side of the entertainment unit, Mr. Herk was doing the same thing.

Nina ran to Anna. “Mrs. Anna!” she said, pulling down Anna's bra.

“Nina, they took Jenny,” said Anna. “They
took
her.”

“Nina,” said Monica, turning sideways and holding out her bound hands. “Untie me.
Desatame
.”

Nina picked at the knots on Monica's wrists and had them loose in a few seconds. Nina then untied Anna, while Monica untied Matt.

“I need a car,” said Monica.

“My dad's car is outside,” said Matt, digging in his pocket and pulling out the keys. “It's the Kia.”

“Thanks,” said Monica, grabbing the keys.

“What're you doin', Monica?” asked Walter, from the entertainment unit.

“I'm going after the creep before he gets too far,” said Monica.

“How do you know where he's going?” asked Walter.

“He said he had a plane to catch,” said Monica. “I think he's going to MIA.”

“Get me loose from this first,” said Walter, yanking his cuffed arm.

“Walter,” said Monica, “I don't have the handcuff keys, and I don't have time to take those shelves apart. Get yourself loose and call the station and tell them to get somebody out to the airport.”

“You can't leave me stuck here!” said Walter. “How'm I gonna . . .”

“Walter,” said Monica, heading for the door, “I gotta go
now
.”

“SHIT,” said Walter, yanking violently on the entertainment unit, sending the photo of Jenny and Anna clattering to the floor.
“SHIT!”

Anna caught Monica in the foyer. “I'm going with you,” she said.

“You stay here,” said Monica, opening the door.

Anna grabbed Monica's arm with both hands, gripping it hard. “That's
my daughter
,” she said, “and
I am going with you
.”

Monica could see that if she wanted to leave this woman behind, she'd have to fight her.

“OK,” she said, opening the door.

“I'm going, too,” said Matt, entering the foyer.

Monica looked back at him.

“It's my dad's car,” he pointed out.

“Jesus,” said Monica, heading out the door, with Anna and Matt behind her.

ON the patio, Roger the dog pawed at the sliding-glass door and barked a couple of times. Sometimes when he did this, people came and let him in and gave him food. But this time, nobody was coming. Roger could hear noises in there. He pawed at the door a couple more times. Nothing. Roger sighed and went back over to resume growling at the Enemy Toad.

ELIOT, after yelling at the police car that had missed him, only because he had jumped, by maybe three-eighths of an inch, stood on the sidewalk for a few seconds, bending over, hands on knees, trying to calm down. He was definitely going to file a complaint with the police department. This
maniac
comes out of the driveway
backward,
for God's sake! Knocking down the gate!

Eliot took a couple of deep breaths, collecting himself, then stepped over the smashed gate and started walking quickly up the driveway. He had almost reached the front door when it burst open and he was almost knocked over by a lady police officer, whom he recognized, after a second, as the one he'd met here the other night. She looked very agitated. She grabbed Eliot by the front of his T-shirt.

“Which way did they go?” she said.

“The police?” said Eliot. “Those idiots damn near . . .”

“Those aren't police,” said Monica. “Those are robbers.”

“What?”
said Eliot. Then he saw Anna, looking even more agitated than Monica, and Matt, who had blood on his face and shirt.

“Matt!” he said. “Are you OK?”

“They got Jenny!” said Matt. “We gotta go after her!”

“They got
Jenny?
” said Eliot. “What are they . . .”

“WHICH WAY DID THEY GO?” shouted Monica, shaking Eliot's T-shirt.

“That way,” said Eliot, “straight down Garbanzo. We can follow them in my . . .”

Monica, Matt, and Anna were already running for the Kia. Eliot caught up just in time to jump into the backseat with Anna. He was closing the door when somebody pulled it back open. It was Nina.

“Nina!” said Anna. “You shouldn't . . .”

“You have to stay here,” said Monica, starting the car.
“¡Quedate!”

“No,” said Nina, cramming in next to Eliot and slamming the door. She wasn't staying in this crazy house, especially not with Mr. Herk.

“Jesus,” said Monica, mostly to herself, as she swung the Kia out of the driveway.

“NOW what?” Snake asked Jenny. The police cruiser was headed north on Le Jeune Road.

“Just keep straight,” said Jenny, her voice dull.

“Good girlie,” said Snake. He stroked the back of her neck. She tried to pull away. He jerked her back close against him. His stink was strong in the closed car.

In the front seat, Eddie was gripping the wheel the way a drowning man grips a life preserver. His driving was erratic, but this was not unusual in Miami, a place where most motorists obeyed the traffic laws and customs of their individual countries of origin. Plus, Eddie was driving a police car, so even if he ran a red light—which he had already done, twice—nobody honked.

“Snake,” he said, “there's gonna be a lotta people at the airport, and cops.”

“So?” said Snake. He was not afraid of cops. He left cops handcuffed to entertainment units.

“So,” said Eddie, trying to keep his voice calm, “we're inna cop car here, and case you forgot, we ain't no fuckin' cops. I'm thinkin', let's just pull over somewhere, leave the car, leave the girl, leave the guy in the trunk, take the money, and get the fuck outta here.”

Snake sighed. “That's a loser talkin', Eddie,” he said. “Don't you see what we done? We
beat
the bar assholes, we
beat
the cops, we
beat
the drug kingpin. We're
winnin'
, Eddie. And we're gonna
keep
winnin'.” Snake could not believe he had wasted so much of his life hassling people for change. For fucking
dimes
. He was never going back to that. He was moving ahead, to the bright future that beckoned through the windshield, beyond the tightly clenched hands of his soon-to-be-ex-henchman.