Read Online The Animal Hour by Andrew Klavan - Free Book Online Page B

unsteadily. Clutching that purse closed as hard as she could. As if the mouth of it might tear itself open. As if the gun might jump out of it. As if the gun might just jump right into her hand.
    Why don’t you shoot him?
    She started walking. Down the path, toward the hedges and the plots of grass. Toward the fountain spraying up at the far end near the street. Away. She heard her flats clap-clapping on the asphalt. She felt her knees wobble, as if she were on high heels. She took three steps. Four. Five. And then …
    â€œYou won’t forget now.”
    She pulled up short. It was the beggar’s screaking whisper behind her.
    â€œEight o’clock. You won’t forget.”
    Slowly, Nancy turned around. He was still standing there beside the bench, under the bough of the tree. His hand was still out. His knotted yellow-white hair fell around his jowls. He smiled wildly, his eyes bright.
    Nancy stared at him. She swallowed hard.
    â€œThat’s the Animal Hour,” he cackled. “You have to be there. That’s when he’s going to die.”
    Staring, clutching her purse, Nancy shook her head. “Leave me alone.” She couldn’t believe the sound of her own voice. The deep, hollow, throaty sound. As if she were dead with fear. “Leave me alone.”
    The beggar just stood, just smiled, his hand still out, his eyes still on her. Behind him, the other beggars sat, huddled into themselves, paying no attention. The gray-black shapes of them pocked the green benches on either side of the path. The path led away, under the sycamores, toward City Hall. She could see the cops there, both of them, beneath the trees. Both were at the bottom of the Hall steps now. They were standing together, chatting, their hands on their guns.
    Call to them. Why don’t you just …
    shoot him?
    Call to them?
    â€œCome on, Miss. Come on,” said the beggar. His voice seemed to crackle with laughter. His eyes were mocking her.
    â€œLeave me alone,” Nancy said, louder now. “I said leave me … leave me alone right now or I’ll call the police!” Just then, on Broadway, a truck roared. It gunned past with a long explosion of black exhaust into the trees. The noise blew her words away. Even she couldn’t hear them.
    All the same, the beggar seemed to get the idea. When she mentioned the police, the shape of his grin changed. It cork-screwed up on one side, down on the other. It became a sneer. He dropped his outstretched hand. Waved it at her; a crimped claw. “Ah!” he said, disgusted. And he turned his back. He started to walk away.
    You’re sure you can’t stay now? Nancy thought. In her relief, she had closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath. Next time, don’t be such a stranger. When she looked again, the beggar had shuffled even farther down the path. The bent shape of his dusty black coat was slowly pushing away from her. The scrape of his footsteps in the leaves was growing softer.
    All right. All right , she thought. Another breath. Steady as she goes. All right now. Everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be absolutely … going to be … She looked down. Her fingertips were white with the effort of holding her purse shut. She could feel droplets of sweat running down her palm. She gave a sickly smile. Well, maybe not absolutely fine , she thought. Something was going on, that was for sure. There was some kind of glitch in the old brainworks. This fever she had. This flu. Causing some kind of hallucinations or something. That’s all. That’s all it was. No need to go all hypochondriacal about it or anything. Just because a few funny things start happening, just because you see, hear a few strange things doesn’t mean you’re …
    Nuts. Going nuts.
    â€¦ totally certifiable or anything.
    Right. She licked her lips. Her lips felt stiff and bloodless. Her stomach felt delicate and weak. She