Read Online Reversible Error by Robert K. Tanenbaum - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert K. Tanenbaum
Ads: Link
answered the other. "Music. Earth, Wind, and Fire, I think. And a banging sound. And a kind of squealing. Maybe he's beating a dog to death with a stereo."
Jeffers placed his massive head against the door and listened. He smiled. "I think what you hearing there is Tecumseh on the job."
Maus raised his brows and pressed his ear more tightly to the door. "You think so? Making a lot of noise, ain't he?"
"You think that 'cause you unfamiliar with the sexual habits of my people. Being naturally more attune to the physical propensities of life, we get more juice out of the berry, so to speak, in the way of hump. Therefore the noises of ecstasy which we hearin now."
"Yeah, you keep telling me that, but I got to take your word for it, since I notice you haven't fixed me up with any of your sisters yet."
Jeffers laughed softly. "You not ready for that, boy. I got to bring you along slow, got to pace you."
Maus said, "1 appreciate that, Mack, I do, and meanwhile I'm working hard to overcome my objection to miscegenation. Meanwhile, what the fuck are we doing here? I'm getting horny listening to this shit."
"My plan, little man, is to wait until Tecumseh have pop his rocks and then we gonna swoop him up while he lie in the sweet afterglow. Besides, he ain't gonna be getting none of that for a long time where he goin. It's my act of Christian charity for the month."
They waited in the hall until the sounds stopped. Then Jeffers pounded mightily on the door and shouted, "Open up! Police!" He pressed his ear to the door again.
"Are they coming?" asked Maus.
"So to speak? No, I hear escapin noise. I think he's goin out the window."
"You going to take the door down?"
"Don't be funny, son. This a steel door. I go through a door like this, they better have my momma's ass on fire on the other side. No, we just gonna go downstairs again. Tecumseh ain't goin nowhere."
And indeed, when they arrived back on the street, they found Tecumseh Booth facedown on the ground, dressed only in a pair of slacks, with his hands cuffed behind him. Art Dugman had picked him up easily as he dropped from the fire escape.
Jeffers stooped and jerked Booth to his feet with a single yank on the handcuff chain. Booth yelped sharply and said, "Hey, what the fuck you want with me? I ain done nothin!"
Jeffers popped the rear door of the Plymouth open and threw the prisoner in. He got in himself and Dugman went around to the other side. Maus drove the car south toward the Twenty-eighth Precinct.
Booth sat between them calmly with his hands cuffed behind his back, waiting. He had learned, from a lifetime of arrests, the wisdom of the sages, that silence was the ideal state of being. He had also learned that cops made mistakes, and that in some mysterious way these mistakes had the power to cancel guilt, so that you could walk away from a crime that the cops and kids on the street and old ladies knew you had done, and they couldn't do shit to you. This had happened to him a number of times. The main thing was to shut up.
Booth became aware that the two cops on either side of him were staring at him. He looked straight ahead. After a while the older one said, "Turn off here."
The driver swung left, heading toward the blackness of Colonial Park. He stopped the car in the dark of a big tree.
The older cop said, "Look at his head. It's the perfect shape."
"Don't start that again!" the big cop said nervously.
"I'm telling you, it'll work this time," said the older detective. Booth felt the older cop's body shift, and looked to see why. He had drawn out his pistol.
The driver turned around in the front seat. "Damn it, not in the damn car! The last time it took me three hours to clean all the blood and crap off of the upholstery. You want to play games, do it outside!"
Booth felt a cold touch at his right ear. His head jerked away by reflex, only to be stopped by a similar but harder pressure on the other ear. The big cop said, "Boss, I sure hope you know what
Jeffers placed his massive head against the door and listened. He smiled. "I think what you hearing there is Tecumseh on the job."
Maus raised his brows and pressed his ear more tightly to the door. "You think so? Making a lot of noise, ain't he?"
"You think that 'cause you unfamiliar with the sexual habits of my people. Being naturally more attune to the physical propensities of life, we get more juice out of the berry, so to speak, in the way of hump. Therefore the noises of ecstasy which we hearin now."
"Yeah, you keep telling me that, but I got to take your word for it, since I notice you haven't fixed me up with any of your sisters yet."
Jeffers laughed softly. "You not ready for that, boy. I got to bring you along slow, got to pace you."
Maus said, "1 appreciate that, Mack, I do, and meanwhile I'm working hard to overcome my objection to miscegenation. Meanwhile, what the fuck are we doing here? I'm getting horny listening to this shit."
"My plan, little man, is to wait until Tecumseh have pop his rocks and then we gonna swoop him up while he lie in the sweet afterglow. Besides, he ain't gonna be getting none of that for a long time where he goin. It's my act of Christian charity for the month."
They waited in the hall until the sounds stopped. Then Jeffers pounded mightily on the door and shouted, "Open up! Police!" He pressed his ear to the door again.
"Are they coming?" asked Maus.
"So to speak? No, I hear escapin noise. I think he's goin out the window."
"You going to take the door down?"
"Don't be funny, son. This a steel door. I go through a door like this, they better have my momma's ass on fire on the other side. No, we just gonna go downstairs again. Tecumseh ain't goin nowhere."
And indeed, when they arrived back on the street, they found Tecumseh Booth facedown on the ground, dressed only in a pair of slacks, with his hands cuffed behind him. Art Dugman had picked him up easily as he dropped from the fire escape.
Jeffers stooped and jerked Booth to his feet with a single yank on the handcuff chain. Booth yelped sharply and said, "Hey, what the fuck you want with me? I ain done nothin!"
Jeffers popped the rear door of the Plymouth open and threw the prisoner in. He got in himself and Dugman went around to the other side. Maus drove the car south toward the Twenty-eighth Precinct.
Booth sat between them calmly with his hands cuffed behind his back, waiting. He had learned, from a lifetime of arrests, the wisdom of the sages, that silence was the ideal state of being. He had also learned that cops made mistakes, and that in some mysterious way these mistakes had the power to cancel guilt, so that you could walk away from a crime that the cops and kids on the street and old ladies knew you had done, and they couldn't do shit to you. This had happened to him a number of times. The main thing was to shut up.
Booth became aware that the two cops on either side of him were staring at him. He looked straight ahead. After a while the older one said, "Turn off here."
The driver swung left, heading toward the blackness of Colonial Park. He stopped the car in the dark of a big tree.
The older cop said, "Look at his head. It's the perfect shape."
"Don't start that again!" the big cop said nervously.
"I'm telling you, it'll work this time," said the older detective. Booth felt the older cop's body shift, and looked to see why. He had drawn out his pistol.
The driver turned around in the front seat. "Damn it, not in the damn car! The last time it took me three hours to clean all the blood and crap off of the upholstery. You want to play games, do it outside!"
Booth felt a cold touch at his right ear. His head jerked away by reflex, only to be stopped by a similar but harder pressure on the other ear. The big cop said, "Boss, I sure hope you know what
Similar Books
