Big Trouble (21 page)

When Eddie was done, Snake checked the wrists one at a time. The knots were ugly, but the cords were tight. Satisfied, he went over to Arthur and said, “Where's the money?”

“What money?” said Arthur.

With his good leg, Snake kneed Arthur hard in the balls. Arthur howled and bent over, his cuffed arm yanking the heavy entertainment unit, which would have toppled over, had not Walter, at the other end, managed to get it back upright.

“Where's the fuckin' money?” said Snake, cocking his leg again.

“In my pocket,” gasped Arthur, weeping from the pain in his groin. “It's in my pocket! Don't kick me again!”

“Take it outta your pocket,” said Snake.

Sniffling, Arthur reached his non-handcuffed hand awkwardly across his body and into his right pants pocket. He pulled out a fat wad consisting of $4,500 in $20 bills, the rest of the $5,000 Arthur had stolen from the Penultimate bribe money. He handed the wad to Snake, who had never seen, let alone held, this much money in his entire life. Snake was more convinced than ever that drug kingpin was the ultimate profession, a line of work where a man would be walking around with this kind of cash in his damn
pocket
.

“You got any more?” Snake asked, cocking his leg again. He didn't think there was, but he liked making the kingpin cringe. These kingpins, you kicked them in the balls, they weren't so tough.

“NO!” said Arthur, sobbing now. “Please, just take the money, take the suitcase, take the girl, just leave me alone.”

At the words
take the girl
, Anna lunged forward, struggling, despite her bound hands, to get to her feet, to get at Arthur.

“You
bastard!
” she screamed. “How
could
you?”

Snake stepped over and, with elaborate casualness, shoved Anna with his foot, forcing her down on her back. Matt struggled forward, as if to protect her; Snake kicked the boy in his already-bloody face and he fell back, groaning. Monica started up also, but Snake stopped her with a look, then pointed the gun at Walter, who was tensing as if to lunge with the entertainment unit.

“Go ahead, muscle boy,” Snake said. “Try it.”

Jenny crawled over and knelt by her mother. Turning away from Walter, Snake grabbed the girl by her hair, and she screamed as he yanked her back.

Holding the sobbing girl by the hair, he said to Anna, “Don't worry, momma. I'll take good care a her.”

“Please,” said Anna. “Please leave her. You can take me. I'll do whatever you want. Please.”

Snake thought about that for a moment.

“Will you let me see your titties?” he asked.

“Oh God,” said Jenny, shuddering.

Anna looked Snake in the eyes. “Yes,” she said.

“Eddie,” said Snake. “Open up this lady's shirt.”

“Jesus, Snake,” said Eddie, “I don't . . .”

“
Do it
,” said Snake.

Eddie bent over Anna and fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. He tried to tell her, with his eyes, that he was sorry, but she didn't look at him; she was staring straight at Snake. Eddie got the buttons undone and opened the blouse, revealing a lacy white bra.

“Push it up,” said Snake, licking his lips.

Gingerly, Eddie pushed up the bra, revealing Anna's full, smooth breasts.

“Oh God
,
”
whispered Jenny, at Snake's feet. She shut her eyes, wishing this moment away.
“Oh God
.
”

“Shut up,” said Snake, yanking her hair, but not taking his eyes off Anna's breasts. He was getting a hard-on. To Anna, he said, “You let me suck 'em?”

“Oh Jesus,” said Monica. “You sick creep, you . . .”

“Yes,” interrupted Anna, still looking Snake right in the eyes. “Yes. Let her go, and you can suck them.”

Snake pretended to think about it, this offer from this desperate, bare-breasted woman in front of him. This was as good as it got.

“Nah,” he said, giving Jenny's hair another tug, pulling her sobbing face toward his crotch. “I think this girlie's titties might be even nicer.”

“NO!” screamed Anna, her eyes burning into Snake's now. She fought for calm. “If you hurt her,” she said, “I swear to God I'll kill you.”

“Sure you will,” said Snake. “You can kill me with those big titties a yours.” He licked the air with his tongue. Then he pulled the sobbing Jenny to her feet and turned to Walter.

“Muscle boy,” he said, “who got the keys to the police car?”

Walter, insane with the frustration of being unable to strangle this scumbag, clenched his jaw and glared at Snake, trying to kill him with rage.

Snake pointed the gun right at Walter's face and said, slowly, “Tell me right now who got the keys.”

Walter breathed in and out twice through his nose. Finally, through his teeth, spacing the words out, he said, “They're in the car, scumbag.”

On hearing “scumbag,” Snake pulled the trigger. He intended to shoot Walter—he'd been aiming right at him—but when he pulled the trigger, he jerked the gun, and the bullet went through the wall several inches from Walter's head. Snake was surprised: He had figured himself for a natural marksman, after the effortless way he'd taken out Jerry Springer. But he felt better when he saw the big man cringing, obviously terrified. Snake decided to act as though it had been a warning shot.

“Next one's in your ugly face,
scumbag,
” he said. He pointed the gun at Puggy, who had been squatting on the floor, totally still, hoping to be forgotten.

“Pick up the suitcase,” he said.

Sighing, Puggy stood and picked up the suitcase.

Snake grabbed Jenny by the arm, and said to Eddie, “Let's go. We gotta plane to catch.”

Eddie thought,
what
plane? But he didn't dare ask. He really didn't want to go with the new, batshit Snake. On the other hand, he figured he couldn't stay there with the cops, either. So he reluctantly followed Snake, who was pulling Jenny, and herding Puggy, toward the foyer.

Snake had considered simply shooting everybody in the living room, but he was concerned—you had to plan ahead, in this line of work—about using up bullets he might need in the Bahamas to establish kingpinship. Also he had heard somewhere that you could get in extra trouble if you killed a cop. The way he figured it, the prisoners were no threat: The men were handcuffed, and the women and kid were tied up. Snake had a big wad of cash money and a suitcase that—he was absolutely sure, now—contained a large amount of valuable drugs. He had three guns. He had a scared, fine-looking young thing to enjoy later on, when he had some time. He was on top of the world, is what he was. And to think: Just that morning, he'd basically been a lowlife.

As Snake opened the front door, Anna called after him, her voice now raw and desperate. “
Please,
” she said. “Oh God,
please
don't take her.”

“Hey, don't worry, momma,” Snake called back. “I'll show her a
good
time.”

He closed the door, and for a second or two, the only sound in the house was Anna's anguished wail.

“DID you hear a shot?” asked Leonard.

“Sounded like a pistol,” said Henry. “In the house.”

They were standing under Puggy's tree. Henry was catching his breath; he had spent the last ten minutes struggling his way up to Puggy's platform—where he found his rifle, still loaded, wrapped in a sheet of plastic—and then painstakingly climbing back down.

“You think our boy got whacked?” said Leonard. “The Panty-Hose Gang beat us to the punch?”

“Could be,” said Henry, moving toward the house. “Or, could be somebody whacked them.”

“Or,” said Leonard, following, “maybe somebody finally shot the dog.”

SNAKE told Puggy to put the suitcase in the trunk of the police cruiser. He made Puggy climb in with it, then he slammed the lid. He put Jenny in the backseat and got in with her.

“You drive,” he told Eddie.

“I ain't never drove no police car,” said Eddie. In fact, it had been fifteen years since he had driven any car, and that one had been stolen, and he ended up driving it into a canal.

“It's just a fuckin' car,” said Snake, who was also very rusty in the automotive department, which was why he had made Eddie the driver. “Drive it.”

“Where to?” said Eddie.

“Airport,” said Snake.

“Which way is that?” said Eddie.

“I bet this little girlie knows,” said Snake, putting his hand on the back of Jenny's neck and squeezing hard. “Don'tcha, little girlie?”

Jenny, whimpering from the pain, nodded.

Snake gave her neck another hard squeeze.

“She's a good little girlie,” he said.

“YOU said Garbanzo, right?” said the taxi driver.

“Yes,” said Eliot. “Garbanzo. It's the next right.”

The driver slowed down to process that information.

“This next right here?” he asked.

“Yes,
turn right here,
” said Eliot, gripping the seat to keep from screaming.

The driver came to a complete stop at the intersection and peered up at the street sign, studying it as though it were a new constellation in the night sky. Finally, he said: “Garbanzo.”

“Jesus
Christ,
” said Eliot. Yanking open the cab door, he tossed a twenty-dollar bill, which was the smallest he had, onto the front seat and got out. He slammed the door and set off running toward the Herk house.

The taxi driver looked down at the twenty, then at Eliot's receding figure.

“What's the big hurry?” he said.

EDDIE turned the ignition key, and the big police-cruiser V-8 rumbled to life. On the radio, staticky voices were talking in numbers, which made Eddie nervous. He turned around and looked through the back window.