Holy Terror by Graham Masterton Read Free Book Online Page B

you, too!’
    The officers reluctantly did what they were told. Conor recognized some of them – Kosherick, Caploe, Farbar and Murray. They used to think that he was some kind of god. Now they were looking at him all pouchy-mouthed as if they were summoning up enough saliva to spit on him.
    Conor turned to the Angel Gabriel. ‘Let’s go! And make it quick!’
    The Angel Gabriel dragged Doris onto her feet. He said to Darrell, ‘You too, lardass. And the boxes, for Christ’s sake! Don’t leave the boxes behind!’
    Conor waited until the Angel Gabriel and Doris and Darrell were assembled all around him. Then he started to edge his way toward the doors. He heldSergeant Wexler so close that he could smell his Gillette deodorant.
    They pushed their way through the swing doors and emerged into the heat and the glare of Fifth Avenue. The street had been cordoned off for two blocks in both directions, and there were squad cars and ambulances and TV trucks everywhere. Bright lights shone in their eyes and cables snaked across the sidewalk.
    â€˜Hold your fire!’ shouted Sergeant Wexler. ‘Everything’s OK! Everything’s under control!’
    â€˜
Drop your weapons
!’ bellowed a distorted voice through a loud-hailer. Conor recognized it immediately, and thought: it just
had
to be, didn’t it? Lieutenant Drew Slyman, suspected of being one of the three leading hit men of the Forty-Ninth Street Golf Club – the ‘umpires’, they called themselves. Lieutenant Slyman had been implicated in seven Golf Club executions, but Conor had never been able to gather enough evidence to bring him to court.
    â€˜
Drop your weapons
!’ Lieutenant Slyman repeated. ‘
Hit the sidewalk! Now
!’
    Darrell whimpered in fright, but Conor said, ‘Ignore them. Just keep going.’
    The Brinks-Mat truck was still parked at the curb, as well as a white Camaro. Conor could see that the police had deflated the Camaro’s tires, presumably thinking that it was the getaway vehicle, but they hadn’t disabled the security truck.
    â€˜
This is your last warning
!’ said Lieutenant Slyman. But Conor kept on shuffling across the sidewalk until he reached the truck. The Angel Gabriel backed up to it, too, and let go of Doris for long enough to openthe side door. Doris looked wide-eyed at Conor as if she were thinking of making a run for it, but Conor frowned at her and shook his head and mouthed, ‘
Don’t
.’
    Puffing and sweating, Darrell loaded the safety deposit boxes into the truck. Then the Angel Gabriel opened the cab door and told him to get in.
    â€˜Me? What for?’ Darrell protested.
    â€˜You’re driving, that’s what for.’
    â€˜But I can’t!’
    â€˜Ray was going to drive. But Ray just bought the farm. Now,
you’re
driving. Got it?’
    Darrell climbed up into the cab and sat round-shouldered and miserable behind the wheel. Before the Angel Gabriel climbed in, he took two or three steps forward and yelled out, ‘Listen up! If I see one police vehicle following us – if I see one vehicle that I even
think
is a police vehicle – if I see a police motorcycle or a helicopter – if I see a goddamned
horse
– the woman gets it in the head!’
    He waited to make sure that his warning had sunk in. Then he climbed up into the cab, pulling Doris after him, hiking up her skirt to show her stocking top and dropping one of her shoes.
    â€˜If you hurt those people …’ Conor cautioned him.
    â€˜You’re a civilized man, Chief O’Neil,’ said the Angel Gabriel, and actually grinned. ‘No wonder you had to quit the police department.’ Just before he slid the door shut, Conor heard him say to Darrell, ‘Cut across to Eighth Avenue. Then head uptown.
Move
!’
    Darrell started the engine. Several police officersstood up from behind their cars and took aim with their