Read Online Chase: Roman by Dean Koontz - Free Book Online Page A

Wallace said. ‘All this stuff about fornication and sin and passing judgments.’
        ‘Maybe,’ Chase said. ‘But I wouldn't look for him at tent meetings. I think it's more of a moral excuse to kill than a genuine belief.’
        ‘Maybe,’ Wallace said. ‘Then again, we get his sort every once in a while, more regularly than any other brand of madman.’
        Five minutes later, as Wallace and Chase sat in silence, Tuppinger finished his work. He explained his listening and recording equipment to Chase and further explained the tracery network the telephone company had in use to seek Judge when he called.
        ‘Well,’ Wallace said, ‘tonight I intend to go home when I'm supposed to.’ Just the thought of eight hours’ sleep brought his lids down further and increased the red tint in his eyes.
        ‘One thing,’ Chase said.
        ‘What's that?’
        ‘If this leads to something - do you have to tell the press about my part in it?’
        ‘Why?’ Wallace asked.
        ‘It's just that I'm tired of being a celebrity, of having people bother me all hours of the day and night.’
        ‘It has to come out at the trial, if we nab him,’ Wallace said.
        ‘But not before?’
        ‘I guess not.’
        ‘Id appreciate it,’ Chase said. ‘In any case, I'll have to appear at the trial, won't I?’
        ‘Probably.’
        ‘So, if the press didn't have to know until then, it would cut down on the news coverage by half.’
        ‘You're really modest, aren't you?’ Wallace asked. Before Chase could respond to that, the detective smiled, clapped him on the shoulder and left.
        ‘Would you like a drink?’ Chase asked Tuppinger.
        ‘Not on duty.’
        ‘Mind if I-?’
        ‘No. Go ahead.’
        Chase noticed that Tuppinger watched him with interest as he got new ice cubes and poured himself a large dose of whisky. It wasn't as large as usual. He supposed he'd have to restrain his thirst a bit with the policeman around.
        When Chase sat on the bed, Tuppinger said, ‘I read all about your exploits over there.’
        ‘Oh?’
        ‘Really something,’ Tuppinger said.
        ‘Not really.’
        ‘Oh, yes, really,’ Tuppinger insisted. He was sitting in the easy chair, which he had moved close to his equipment. ‘It had to be hard over there, worse than anybody at home could ever know.’
        Chase nodded.
        ‘I'd imagine the medals don't mean that much. I mean, considering how much you had to go through to earn them, they must seem kind of insignificant.’
        Chase looked up from his drink, surprised at the insight. ‘You're right,’ he said. They don't mean anything.’
        Tuppinger said, ‘And it must be hard to come back from a place like that and settle into a normal life. Memories couldn't fade that quickly.’
        Chase started to respond, then saw that Tuppinger was looking meaningfully at the glass of whisky in his hand. He closed his mouth, bit off his response. Then, hating Tuppinger as badly as he hated Judge, he lifted the drink and took a very large swallow of it.
        He said, ‘I'll have another, I think. You sure you don't want one?’
        ‘Positive,’ Tuppinger said.
        When Chase returned to the bed with another glassful, Tuppinger cautioned him against answering the phone without first waiting for the tape to be started. Then he went into the bathroom, where he remained almost ten minutes.
        When he came back, Chase asked, ‘How late do we have to stay up?’
        ‘Has he ever called this late - except that first night?’
        ‘No,’ Chase said.
        ‘Then I'll turn in now,’ Tuppinger said, flopping in the easy chair. ‘See you in the morning.’
        
        In the morning the whispers of the dead men woke Chase, but they turned out to be nothing more than the sound of water running in the bathroom sink. Tuppinger had risen first and was shaving.