by P. N. Elrod
They were wise to that one. Blair and another man outflanked me, the latter drawing his gun and ordering me to stop. I doubled back, making a feint for a side door on the other end. The photographer left his camera and tried to tackle me. I caught him before we both went off balance and swung him around sharply. He lost his footing and stumbled, blocking Blair’s rush for a few precious seconds. I took the opening only to face two more men drawing their guns.
Cutting between them was not the best option, but the only one left. I was moving too fast to stop, anyway. A gun went off, probably by accident. I felt nothing and remained solid. Someone cursed and caught my arm again. I punched an elbow in his direction and got free. Blair shouted something, but I lost it as I gained the narrow opening between two long lines of crates. I was suddenly free of the uncomfortable pressure of the water below us.
At the far end and coming up quickly was one of the guys from the front office. Halfway along, he paused to pull out his gun and level it. Behind me, Blair and the others paused as well, abruptly aware that they were in each other’s line of fire.
The crates stacked on either side were about four feet square, graduating to smaller ones on top like giant building blocks. I latched onto a narrow edge and heaved upward with desperation-inspired agility. Blair and his men suddenly closed in. One of them just missed grabbing my foot as I lurched up to the next tier. Blair ordered someone to run around to the other side of the stack to head me off.
I wasn’t quite sure how, but I made it to the top of the wooden mountain about twenty-five dizzy feet up. A little belatedly, I remembered my fear of heights as I teetered on my uncertain perch. Blair yelled, telling me to come back before I got hurt. He stopped a man from following; evidently they were all cops except for Chaven and Kyler.
They were standing well back from the activity. Kyler had me in full view, still wearing a look of expectation on his normally blank face. He’d set me up good, and now I knew why.
Blair’s voice cut through my disgust with the situation, reminding me that I had to keep moving. Fine, except that I was now limited to two directions, unless you wanted to count a sudden drop as a third. Cops were now on both sides of the stack, ready to nail what was left if that happened.
Fortunately, the boxes up here were small enough to be useful, as I discovered when I tipped one over and sent it crashing. The men scattered hastily as the thing tumbled down. Metal parts, shards of wood, and excelsior hit the floor like a bomb. Another gun went off—I couldn’t tell from which side—and I ducked in reflex. Before he could get a second shot, I dropped two more boxes, one left, the other right, and then plastered myself flat. With everyone rushing to get out of the way I figured they’d be too busy to notice my disappearance. I also hoped that the angle and height of the intervening crates would help block Kyler’s view of the stunt.
Two more random shots went off before Blair called for a stop, followed by a long, confused pause as they tried to locate me. I held my place, and figuratively held my breath, waiting them out. Confusion gave way to frustration, and a man was boosted up on the stacks for a look around. I flowed well away from any chance contact and let them get on with the search. After a time I eased my way down to the floor and tried to make sense of their shouts and rushing around.
“Where the hell is he?” was the most frequently repeated phrase. No one had an answer to it, either. Blair sent men to cover all the exits and to check the street. The rest circled and recircled the place. After several minutes of futile combing they began to realize they’d been skunked.
Blair shouted a question at Kyler. Between the distorting echoes and the natural muffling caused by my unnatural state I could hardly make it out, and neither could Kyler.
“What?” he called back.
I zeroed in on Blair’s voice. “I said, did he get past you?” He was striding toward Kyler. I froze onto him and held tight, letting him carry me along. With his unknowing help I was able to move out over the water again. Despite the heavy leather coat, he began to shiver.
“We didn’t see anything,” Kyler answered. I hoped that he was telling the truth.
“If you’re trying a double cross, you may regret it.”
“Lieutenant, I was only doing my civic duty. As you can see, we got the bracelet back for you and I understand that it is a crucial piece of evidence in the case you are working on. This lunatic has killed twice, one of them a close friend and associate of mine. I have told you before how much I want to bring this man to justice; I think my cooperation tonight in informing your department of this meeting proves my sincerity.”
“And were you able to identify him, then?”
Kyler let the pause drag out and I moaned inwardly.
“Were you?”
“I regret to say that I did not recognize the man,” was his bland reply.
Now, what the hell was he up to?
“You’re certain of that?”
“Yes, Lieutenant. He was wrapped up in that muffler, but I am positive that if I’d had any previous contact with him, I would have remembered it. I have a very good head for names and faces, you know.”
Blair had nothing to say to that and called for a report from his men. The answers were all negative. He walked off to join them. I hung back to eavesdrop on Kyler.
“Where do you think he went?” Chaven asked him in a low voice.
“Who knows? He might still be here.”
“This is crazy, Vaughn.”
“But you saw what happened.”
“I saw a guy go up who hasn’t come down yet. What’s with him? How does he do it?”
“I’m working that out. Are the boys in place?”
“Probably. Tinny was on his way just as the cops arrived for us. His girl’s practically—”
“Shut up,” said Kyler, not raising his voice, but still managing to express urgency.
As Escott sometimes said, bloody hell. I whipped away from them and threaded between the stacks and occasional cop, feeling my way toward the front. It was like blind man’s bluff, except the goal was to avoid running into people.
I found the office almost by accident when I picked up half of a phone conversation. Blair was calling for reinforcements and giving out a description of me for the prowl cars in the area. He got the height and weight right and had noticed the clothes in detail, right down to the brown-and-blue stripe pattern on the muffler. Thank God he hadn’t gotten a look at my face.
I slipped through the front door and bore left, moving fast over the flat plain of the street, using the curb as a guide. Whenever it curved sharply, it meant a corner, and I’d have to strike out for the other side and hope to hold a straight line. A car roared toward the warehouse; the buffet of wind from its passage threw me briefly off course.
A partial re-forming gave me fresh bearings and some much-needed orientation. I hadn’t come as far as I thought and I was running out of time. Escott wouldn’t wait forever and sooner or later a patrolman might pull up to ask him awkward questions. I dropped out of reality and sped along more recklessly than before, practically flying over the pavement.
The next time I went solid, I was within yards of his corner. Escott stood in a doorway covering the street and saw me melt out of nowhere.
“We’re up shit creek,” I said, slowing only a little. “Get the car in gear. We have to get to the Top Hat right away.”
“Good lord, they’re after Miss Smythe?” He darted around to the driver’s side and threw himself in. I wrenched open the passenger door and chafed at the pause needed to start the motor.
“Something I heard from Chaven. Dammit, I thought she’d be safe from all this.”
“No doubt Kyler has some excellent sources of information and an instinct for finding an opponent’s vulnerable points,” he said as he shifted and hit the gas.
“Hurry, but be careful. The cops are looking for me now.” I tore off the cap and telltale muffler and dropped them behind the seat.
“Wha
t’s happened?”
While he negotiated a route out of the district, I filled him in on things. “I guess you could say he kept his word; he didn’t come after me, he only had to step aside and let Blair do the work.”
“And yet he did not give you away to him.”
“I think that whole fiasco was a test to see what I’d do when cornered. In one move he’s gotten himself off the suspect list for the murders, shifted it onto someone else, and learned that much more about what I can do. He’s probably figured there’s no way to get a direct hold on me, so he’ll try to get to Bobbi instead.”
“Which indicates that he must want something of you.”
“He wants me out of the way. Anybody who can do what I do is too dangerous to have loose. I’d just like to know what he meant about ’working that out.’ “
“Perhaps he’s researching the folklore section of the local library.”
“Oh, great.” I had a nightmare vision of Chicago’s underworld searching for me, armed with crosses and draped in garlands of fresh garlic. It was just as well those items only worked at the movies. On the other hand, a hammer and stake were also part of the vampire hunter’s traditional arsenal, and I knew from experience just how terribly effective those were.
“What about the photograph?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not even sure I’ll show up on the plate, but first things first.”
“Absolutely,” he murmured, concentrating on his driving. He beat through a couple of stop signals while I kept an eye out for patrol cars. The street traffic was mercifully light at this hour, but it still seemed to take a long time to get there.
It was the middle of the week, but the Top Hat Club had a good crowd if we could tell anything by the number of cars in the parking lot. Neon lights spelled out the name of the club against the clear sky and a glowing red top hat danced endlessly from side to side below them. Both caused confusing reflections on the windows of the cars, making it difficult to tell if any were occupied.
“I’ll go check things inside,” said Escott as he found a place to park. I started to object, but was interrupted. “They won’t let you past the door dressed like that,” he pointed out.
He was right and my regular clothes were inconveniently packed away in a bag in the car’s trunk. We’d both prepared for the necessity of having to drop out of sight in case things went wrong.
“Besides, you could alarm the ones we’re after if they should see you. Since they know what you look like, your sudden appearance could lead to an unfortunate incident.”
“I’ll do more than just alarm them,” I growled, but saw the sense of things. I described Tinny as best I could. Escott took it in, then slipped out to go to the club. I got out on my side to make a more thorough search of the parking lot.
All I found were some courting couples in different cars who were generating enough personal heat to ignore the low outside temperature. They also ignored me, but then I was going out of my way to be quiet. I’d retrieved the cap and muffler from the back of the car and had wrapped up again. They linked me to the search Blair was conducting, but that was a few miles away, and I felt safe enough using them here. Nevertheless, I was quick to duck out of sight when a police car cruised past on its rounds.
A street ran behind the club and was where I usually parked while waiting to pick up Bobbi when she was through for the night. The manager and a few other employees also parked there, so I was familiar with their cars. The Olds on the end close to the back entrance was new to the spot, though, and there were two men sitting inside.
Maybe it was the jackpot, but I’d have to be sure first. There was no percentage in committing mayhem against innocent citizens. I assumed a casual walk and paused in front of it. The light was bad for them, but I gave them a chance to notice me and made a point of returning the favor.
The one on the driver’s side turned on the headlights. The harsh glare was probably meant to discourage me; understandable, since I was more or less dressed like a suspicious character. I shaded my eyes against it and moved out of the way. The lights cut and they laughed a little. I nodded back in a friendly way and slapped my pockets for a battered pack of cigarettes, pulling one out.
“Gotta match?” I called so they could hear me through the windows.
Neither of them answered. I walked up to tap the driver’s door and repeated my question. His hat was pulled low, so I couldn’t see much above his hard jaw line. He rolled the window down and told me to scram. “Kyler sent me,” I whispered.
He and his partner exchanged looks. “Who?” he asked.
“You heard me. He said to say the deal’s off and to get out of here.”
“I don’t get it. You trying to make trouble?”
“Just trying to keep you out of it. Let the cops nail you if you want, it’s no skin off my nose, but I wouldn’t want the boss to think I didn’t know how to listen to orders.”
The driver frowned deeply and I wondered if he’d recognized me despite the muffler. By now I was fairly sure he was one of the mugs who had invaded the house. I was ready for a hostile response; instead, he leaned forward to start the car.
“What about Tinny and Chick?” he asked.
“They’re leaving with me. It’s safer.”
He nodded once, shifted the gears, and pulled out of his slot. As soon as he turned into the main street, he hit the gas and didn’t stop for as long as he was in earshot.
I gaped after them and indulged in a laugh of my own. This was almost too easy.
Escott would have the front of the club covered by now, but he might not have been able to invade the backstage area. I trotted up the steps to the rear door and slipped inside. A tall curtain blocked the audience’s view of the utilitarian walls, but when the stage lights were on it was filmy enough to see through. I had a fine backseat for the floor show.
The band had just started up a bright and brassy fanfare, which brought on an abrupt burst of applause. I got a filtered view of Bobbi making her entrance for a novelty number. She was dressed like a feminized version of Frank Buck in white satin jodhpurs, matching bush shirt, patent leather riding boots, and a sequin-trimmed pith helmet. The explanation for the costume came when she launched into her rendition of “The Animal in Me.” She charmed her way through the first chorus, skipped to one side of the stage, and pretended to hunt around for jungle dangers. As she returned, a line of tap dancers wearing tinsel grass skirts and strategic coconut shells followed.
They scattered across the stage to the delighted hoots from the audi ence and hammered out the number. A few bars later, the girls screamed and drew back in mock terror as a guy in a gorilla suit strutted out of the wings. He wore a white tie and collar and carried a walking stick. Bobhi sang more lyrics to the gorilla, then joined him in a little soft-shoe, hamming things up like crazy. The gorilla dropped to one knee to present her with a bouquet of fake flowers that magically appeared in his paw. Bobbi pantomimed a show of flattery, but decided to turn him down. The go rilla roared to his feet, grabbed Bobbi, and threw her over his shoulder. She gave out with another chorus from there as he carried her around the stage.
Just as it looked like the gorilla would run off with her, a second gorilla appeared in their way. This one wore an apron and carried a comically large rolling pin, which she used to threaten her “husband.” He hastily put Bobbi down, mimed unconvincing innocence, and got bashed on the head for his trouble. While he was still reeling, his “wife” grabbed his ear and marched him offstage. Bobbi shrugged elaborately, then she and the dancers went into another chorus. She eventually made her own exit on a papier-mâché elephant pulled by an unseen member of the tech nical crew.
Even from my spot the show looked slick and full of fun. The applause didn’t die down until she came back for a short reprise, sung from the back of the elephant. She made a final bow and rode away, waving and blowing kisses.
I couldn’t hold still after that and worked my way around to her, a
rriving in time to watch her climb off the elephant by way of a ladder built into its upstage framework. The satin pants suited her admirably, especially from where I stood.
She was flushed and grinning, surrounded by the other girls for a brief moment until she caught a glimpse of me and stopped. I suddenly remembered to unwrap the muffler and her smile returned like a burst of light when recognition came. She threw her arms around me in a bear hug and I lifted her off the floor in delighted relief. All the pressures of the last few nights, all the fears, major and minor, dropped away from my overloaded brain at this expression of her honest, uninhibited joy.
For what seemed like a long time I’d been wandering blind and lost in one of the darker corners of my mind. I held on to her, feeling the warmth of her spirit and body soaking into my own. Maybe we both felt it, since neither of us was in much of a hurry to let go of the other. I kissed the top of her silky blond head, working my way down to her lips. When she finally came up for air my mood had undergone a considerable shift. My upper canines had started to bud.
She noticed right away. “Do I always have this effect on you?”
That raised a smile out of me, albeit a closemouthed one. “I’ve missed you, baby.” I caressed the soft skin of her neck. Now was hardly the time or place for that sort of thing, but soon, perhaps.
A couple of girls whooped and whistled at this unintentional show until the stage manager told them to clear off.
“You too, Bobbi,” he said. “Get your boyfriend outta the way or it’s both our hides.”
Bobbi’s boss was not sympathetic to visiting friends, no matter what the circumstances. I put her down again and she took my hand, leading the way to her dressing room.
“Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why so early, and what’s with the getup?” she asked.
“Charles and I are working late and there’s been some trouble.”
“It’s that bracelet thing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“You ever hear of Vaughn Kyler?”