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Authors: Gary K. Wolf
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promise.”
Chapter •14•
The elevator in my office building worked so seldom that the ‘toon door-man, a strapping gorilla, made a nice chunk of change carrying people to the upper floors on his back. Today I lucked out. The elevator appeared and whisked me to the twelfth floor in less than a week, which probably set a building speed record.
My three hundred bucks a month bought me a waiting room where a secretary would sit, if I could ever afford to hire one, my office proper, and a small John. The place normally rented for two fifty, but I got charged an extra half-yard because of the view. Open the window, look up, and you see the sky. Look down, and you see the street. Look straight out, and you see the brickwork of the building next door. Great place. Shabby and overpriced, but it suited me better than one of those chrome-and-glass stakes that builders keep pounding into the heart of what used to be a picturesque city.
I noticed something wacky as soon as I took out my keys to open the outer door. The lock was badly scratched, sure sign of an amateur thief. The pros go in and out without leaving a trace, but amateurs always botch it. I slammed open the door and entered the waiting room the way I learned in the Corps, low and fast. I kicked the door shut on my way past, but there was nobody hiding behind it. It didn’t take me long to search the waiting room, since it contained only two folding chairs and a card table with some hardly thumbed magazines on it. Anybody small enough to hide behind any of that stuff didn’t really worry me.
I checked the door connecting this room with my office proper. It, too, bore signs of having been picked. I had a wall safe in my office, and in that I kept my gun. Just my luck to walk in on a burglar and get shot with my own piece.
I took a few deep breaths, opened the door, and went in Marine style again, except this time I added a forward somersault, which might not have been the greatest idea in the world. You have to practice those things a lot or they leave you dizzy, which is just how I wound up when I came out of it. I grabbed the edge of my desk for support and tried to look alert. Nobody shot me, so I figured the burglar had already skedaddled.
But I was wrong. When the room straightened out, I found him, sitting behind my desk, brazen as you please. One thing for sure. I’d have no trouble picking this clown out of a lineup. He wore a long purple coat, a fireman’s hat, and a T-shirt that said, “Kiss me, I’m fuzzy.” If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn it was …
“I’m sorry I had to break in on you like this, Mister Valiant, I mean picking your lock and all, but I really didn’t know where else to go, or who else to turn to.”
“Roger? Roger Rabbit?” I went around to his side of the desk, opened the bottom drawer, took out the office bottle, and swigged down a healthy glug. I stared at the rabbit until he got the message and shagged his tail out of my chair. I brushed a few stray pieces of hair off the seat and sat down. “Start explaining,” I said, “and it better be good.”
He went to the window and took in the fifty-dollar view. “I know what you think,” he said. “You think I’m really Roger. But I’m not. I’m his doppelganger, his mentally created duplicate.”
“Yeah, I know about that stuff,” I said, remembering Jessica Rabbit falling to pieces around me.
“Well, Roger conjured me up last night about eleven,” the rabbit went on. “He had a photo session this morning, and he needed a pair of red suspenders to wear at it. He gave me a fifty-dollar bill, and told me to go out and buy him some.”
“He sent you out in the middle of the night to find him a pair of red suspenders?”
“Yes. He … I mean, we … I mean, I can be very impulsive at times. Anyway, I left and started hitting those variety stores you see around, the ones that stay open late at night. I must have gone to twenty of them and couldn’t
Chapter •14•
The elevator in my office building worked so seldom that the ‘toon door-man, a strapping gorilla, made a nice chunk of change carrying people to the upper floors on his back. Today I lucked out. The elevator appeared and whisked me to the twelfth floor in less than a week, which probably set a building speed record.
My three hundred bucks a month bought me a waiting room where a secretary would sit, if I could ever afford to hire one, my office proper, and a small John. The place normally rented for two fifty, but I got charged an extra half-yard because of the view. Open the window, look up, and you see the sky. Look down, and you see the street. Look straight out, and you see the brickwork of the building next door. Great place. Shabby and overpriced, but it suited me better than one of those chrome-and-glass stakes that builders keep pounding into the heart of what used to be a picturesque city.
I noticed something wacky as soon as I took out my keys to open the outer door. The lock was badly scratched, sure sign of an amateur thief. The pros go in and out without leaving a trace, but amateurs always botch it. I slammed open the door and entered the waiting room the way I learned in the Corps, low and fast. I kicked the door shut on my way past, but there was nobody hiding behind it. It didn’t take me long to search the waiting room, since it contained only two folding chairs and a card table with some hardly thumbed magazines on it. Anybody small enough to hide behind any of that stuff didn’t really worry me.
I checked the door connecting this room with my office proper. It, too, bore signs of having been picked. I had a wall safe in my office, and in that I kept my gun. Just my luck to walk in on a burglar and get shot with my own piece.
I took a few deep breaths, opened the door, and went in Marine style again, except this time I added a forward somersault, which might not have been the greatest idea in the world. You have to practice those things a lot or they leave you dizzy, which is just how I wound up when I came out of it. I grabbed the edge of my desk for support and tried to look alert. Nobody shot me, so I figured the burglar had already skedaddled.
But I was wrong. When the room straightened out, I found him, sitting behind my desk, brazen as you please. One thing for sure. I’d have no trouble picking this clown out of a lineup. He wore a long purple coat, a fireman’s hat, and a T-shirt that said, “Kiss me, I’m fuzzy.” If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn it was …
“I’m sorry I had to break in on you like this, Mister Valiant, I mean picking your lock and all, but I really didn’t know where else to go, or who else to turn to.”
“Roger? Roger Rabbit?” I went around to his side of the desk, opened the bottom drawer, took out the office bottle, and swigged down a healthy glug. I stared at the rabbit until he got the message and shagged his tail out of my chair. I brushed a few stray pieces of hair off the seat and sat down. “Start explaining,” I said, “and it better be good.”
He went to the window and took in the fifty-dollar view. “I know what you think,” he said. “You think I’m really Roger. But I’m not. I’m his doppelganger, his mentally created duplicate.”
“Yeah, I know about that stuff,” I said, remembering Jessica Rabbit falling to pieces around me.
“Well, Roger conjured me up last night about eleven,” the rabbit went on. “He had a photo session this morning, and he needed a pair of red suspenders to wear at it. He gave me a fifty-dollar bill, and told me to go out and buy him some.”
“He sent you out in the middle of the night to find him a pair of red suspenders?”
“Yes. He … I mean, we … I mean, I can be very impulsive at times. Anyway, I left and started hitting those variety stores you see around, the ones that stay open late at night. I must have gone to twenty of them and couldn’t
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