“I slipped the security man downstairs a hundred bucks to let me up,” said Hunter, smiling. “Told him I had a special gift for you, a surprise for your birthday.”
She glanced at him, uncertainly. “But… I… I don’t understand. It’s not my birthday.”
“Well, I brought you something anyway,” said Hunter. He took out the Browning and shot her right between the eyes.
The street was slicked down from the fire hoses blasting water at the club. Finn Delaney, Creed Steiger, Andre Cross, Lemuel Gulliver and Lucas Priest stood among the crowd being kept back behind the barricades as the firemen gathered up their equipment and the police officers took statements. With the weapons hidden underneath the coats they’d stolen from the cloakroom, they were careful to stay back out of the way. Reporters from the print and electronic media were milling about. There was some kind of story here. But no-one quite knew what to make of it. There was a good deal of confusion. The police detectives were not surprised to hear that there had been some sort of shootout inside the club before the fire broke out. They knew about Manelli and his Family business. What they were having a hard time reconciling were the statements of some of the eyewitnesses.
“I’m tellin’ you, Lieutenant—”
“Sergeant. Sergeant Lubinski.”
“Whatever. Look, I’m tellin’ you, man, I know it sounds crazy, but there were these little people… tiny little people—”
“You mean like dwarves?” said the detective, frowning.
“Midgets?”
“No, man, no, smaller, about like this …” The white haired lead singer of Flesh held his hands about six inches apart, one over the other.
“Like what?” said Lubinski.
“Yeah, like this, man, they were about six inches tall, and they were flyin’ around in these tiny, little rocket belts and shootin’ lasers, it was fuckin’ incredible—”
“Lasers?” said Sgt. Lubinski. “Tiny, little rocket belts?”
“Yeah, it was outrageous, man, there were, like, dozens of ‘em, no, more, and they were, like, having a war in there, like dogfights, you know? Swoopin’ around and blasting away at each other and—”
“Now wait a minute …”
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but—”
“Just hold on a second,” said Lubinski. “You’re with that group, Flesh, huh? Aren’t you guys the ones who went ape and burned down that club in Jersey a few months ago?”
“Hey, look, that wasn’t our fault, man!”
“Yeah, right. And what did you take before?”
“What did I take?”
“Yeah, what are you on?” Lubinski said. “Dust? PCP?”
“Oh, man! Come on, don’t give me this! Look, I’m straight, so help me, I swear to God! Look, ask anybody, there were these little people—”
“Seems like you guys in the band were the only ones who saw any little people, chum,” Lubinski said, wryly. “Everybody else saw some kinda laser light show that went out of control, and one of your own roadies told us that the club electrician said your wiring wasn’t up to code.”
“Look, you gotta believe me, man, it wasn’t us, I swear! I’m tellin’ you, there were these little people flyin’ around—”
“I know, I know, with rocket belts and lasers,” said Lubinski, rolling his eyes. “I think you’d better come along with me, ace. You got the right to remain silent…”
Delaney glanced at Lucas and smiled. “Somehow I don’t think they’re going to believe that fella, do you?”
Lucas shook his head. “No. Too bad. They were a good band, too. Sure brought down the house. “
Epilogue
“I simply can’t get over it,” said Forrester, staring at Lucas Priest and slowly shaking his head. “I just can’t believe you’re alive.”
“How do you think I feel, sitting here with people who saw me die and helped to bury me’?” said Lucas.