Read Online O'Farrell's Law by Brian Freemantle - Free Book Online

stood up to the comparison very well, O’Farrell judged, proudly. Maybe just a little thicker around the hips but still pert-breasted, as firm as her daughter. Stomach was as flat, too: she worked out at the clinic, he knew, practicing the fitness exercises with which she treated others. Certainly as clear-skinned and practically as facially unlined as Ellen, and only he knew that Jill needed a hairdresser’s help now to keep her hair matchingly blond. Very beautiful; very beautiful indeed. He felt a positive jump of emotion, a stomach churn: he loved her so much.
    â€œWhat are the police doing about it?” Jill persisted, setting out the cups.
    â€œThe best they can.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” O’Farrell came in.
    Ellen gave her father a sad smile, wishing he had not asked. “Just that,” she conceded lamely. “One of the drug officers talked at the meeting. Said it was easy enough to pick off the street pushers—which they do, of course—but that they’re replaced the following day. It’s like a pyramid, he said: if they get lucky, they might catch the guy from whom the street dealer gets his supplies, but rarely the one above him. And hardly ever the real organizers, the guys who are making millions … billions.”
    â€œYou know what I think!” Jill said with sudden vehemence. “I think they ought to kill the bastards! Make it a capital offense and execute them; no appeal, no excuse, nothing. Dead!”
    â€œThey do in some parts of the world, apparently,” said the younger woman.
    O’Farrell supposed it was easy for Jill to feel as she did. He said, “Is there anything we can do?”
    Ellen smiled at him again, gratefully this time. “Nothing, in a practical sense. Just knowing you’re around always helps.”
    â€œWe’re always around,” O’Farrell said sincerely.
    Ellen said she still hadn’t done any grocery shopping, but Billy protested he didn’t want to do something as boring as that, so the two women went off in the rented car, with Jill driving, and O’Farrell used Ellen’s car, another Toyota, to take Billy to the theme park nearer into town. He chose Lake Shore Drive because it was a more attractive route than remaining inland, and at the traffic light at its commencement he had to snatch up the emergency brake as well as pump the footbrake to get it to stop. He gasped, frightened, only inches from the car in front. When the lights changed, he set off carefully, taking the inside lane and testing the footbrake again when he was clear enough of following traffic. The only way to stop satisfactorily was to start pumping a long way from where he wanted to halt. He pulled over into a bus stop and got out, able without lifting the hood to hear the whine and shuddering unevenness of the engine.
    Back in the car he said to the boy, “Things don’t seem too good with the car.”
    â€œMom says she’s going to get it fixed,” said Billy.
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œSoon.”
    O’Farrell drove very slowly, ignoring the horn blasts of protest, and found a service station just at the beginning of the high-rise area. The manager insisted the work would be impossible to do at such short notice, and O’Farrell said it was an emergency and that he guessed it would involve overtime working on the weekend, and after thirty minutes of persuasion the man agreed to take it in. It took another thirty minutes for them to check through the work necessary, the manager clearly impressed with O’Farrell’s knowledge of engines.
    â€œFour hundred is only an estimate, you understand?” the mechanic warned.
    â€œWhatever,” said O’Farrell. It gave them carte blanche to rip him off, but so what? The only consideration was getting the vehicle roadworthy over the weekend.
    They took a cab to the theme park and O’Farrell indulged Billy on whatever ride he