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Vic’s eyes were narrowed. The phone call had a weird, fishy smell to it, but there was nowhere to go with it except to agree. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I’ll go fetch him. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Win—”
Vic hung up on him and stood for a moment, arms folded, lips pursed, staring at the phone. A trucker, he thought. A trucker running the kid off the road. He wondered if that driver had been at the wheel of a tow-?truck.
He smiled slowly, believing his guess to be right. If the little punk had been run down by a tow-?truck, then that would be perfect. That was what the Man had been trying to orchestrate for a while now, but Vic hadn’t known the plan was in full swing already.
He nodded and chuckled. “That’s cool. ”
Then he remembered Lois waiting for him in the living room.
Definitely a hands-?on kind of night , he thought as he strolled out of the kitchen.
3
“Does the mayor want you to arrest him?” Mike asked as Missy took curve after curve.
“Who—our guest psycho? Two words best express it. Hell no!” Crow shook his head. “I’m just an errand boy, and that’s all. I’m gonna go out, close down the hayride, wait for your folks to pick you up, and then I’m done with it. ”
“But you’re a cop, aren’t you?”
“Kind of…well, not really. I’ve been reinstated just for tonight. Can’t have civilians doing official work. ”
“You used to be one, though?”
Crow said nothing, his eyes watching the road.
“Crow? Didn’t you used to be a cop?”
“Once upon a time, young Jedi. ”
“Why’d you quit?”
They drove on for almost half a mile before Crow answered that. He gave Mike a brief, searching look and then refocused on the road.
“Sometimes things don’t work out,” he said simply, then smiled. “Besides, if I was a cop, whom would you buy your comics from?”
“Probably Nick’s Comic Cave in Crestville. Or maybe at Waldenbooks in—”
“Mike…?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up when grown folks are talking. ”
Mike grinned. Outside the windows the black fields whipped by, beards of corn glowing with the cold moonlight. “Do you think the chief will catch him?”
Crow was about to suggest that Gus Bernhardt couldn’t catch the clap in a whorehouse, but thought better of it. He said, “I guess he might. He has a lot of help from Philly cops. By morning there’ll be more cops in town than tourists. ”
“Won’t the tourists be scared off anyway ’cause of what’s happening?”
Crow snorted. “Hardly. We’ll probably have a banner day, once this gets out. People love blood and guts as much as they do a good five-?alarm fire. Draws ’em like flies to sh…uh, garbage. ”
“You were going to say ‘like flies to shit. ’”
“Yes, but I didn’t, and you shouldn’t either. ”
“Jeez, Crow, I’m fourteen!”
