“SARS,” Otto said. “It’s the same story as with Judy Washington.”
“I’m sorry,” Otto said with his charming smile. “No questions at this time.”
“I know I’m the dummy of the bunch,” Otto said. “So pardon me for asking—but you have a CDC report. What you’re saying is the stuff you guys have been studying for the past few days, that turns out to be a known factor?”
Otto spun in the director’s chair, three full circles as he spoke. “So the more people that claim to have this disease, the more publicity it gets, then more people hear about it, and then more people think they have it.”
“Or get wind of grannies slicing up their kids, then playing all Scarface with the cops,” Otto said. “Psycho grandmamas would definitely upset Mister and Missus Average American.”
Agent Otto whipped himself in circles. He seemed to be trying to see how many spins he could get off of one push. “So the fibers have been around for a while, but only now are reaching this larval stage? Does that mean they’re evolving?”
“Margaret, may I say something?” Otto asked.
He spun once in his chair, then gripped the desk with both hands, smiling the whole time. “You seem to let people push you around. You ever notice that?”
“Because it seems to me you’re a lot stronger than you think. We’re dealing with some pretty crazy stuff here, am I right?”
“So if you’ve got something you feel we need to do, maybe you should stop being such a pussy.”
“I said, Margaret, stop being such a pussy.”
“So stop letting Murray tell you what to do.”
“So he’s the deputy director. Do you know what you are?”
Otto spun twice, then spoke. “You are the lead epidemiologist studying a new, unknown disease with horrific implications.”
“You are short-staffed, and you can’t get the experts you should have.”
“Margaret, he put you in charge of this. What will happen if you insist on talking to this Cheng guy? Do you think Murray is going to bring in someone else to replace you?”
“So,” Otto said as he gave one strong push. He started spinning, speaking one syllable on each revolution, almost as if he’d read her mind. “Use . . . what . . . you . . . have.”
---
“Yes, sir,” Otto said. He smiled at Margaret. It was a small smile, but she couldn’t miss it.
Otto cleared his throat. “Excuse me for interrupting, sir, but most people don’t get their news from papers anymore, they get it from the Internet. You can set up a web page and have it indexed so the major search engines will find it. The Net is anonymous, so a host might surf it for information on the growths. They can contact you right from the web page.”
---
“Margaret,” Otto whispered. She opened her eyes. Now he was on the other side of the desk. He pointed to her, then held his left palm down at waist level. His right hand whipped back and forth in front of his groin, like he was spanking an imaginary person bent over in front of him. Then he pointed at the phone. “Go on, girl, whip that ass.”
A longer pause. Otto had moved on from slapping the imaginary booty, and was now “riding the pony.” He looked ridiculous, a big grown man, CIA agent, in the black suit and the red tie, twirling in a circle with an expression of affected ecstasy on his face. Margaret couldn’t help but smile.
“Are you ready?” Otto asked. She nodded.
“Hello, sweetie,” Otto said. “Hello, sir.” She didn’t look afraid at all. Nor did she look happy or excited, just matter-of-fact. “Are you Missy Hester?” She nodded, her curly pigtails bouncing in time. Otto’s empty right hand came out of his jacket, slowly dropping to hang at his side. Margaret stepped to Otto’s right, so the girl could see her clearly. “Missy, we’re here to see your mother. Is she home?” “She’s sleeping. Would you like to come in and sit down in the living room?” She stood aside and gestured with her hand. A regular little hostess. “Thank you,” Otto said. He walked inside, head turning quickly as he seemed to scan every inch of the house.
“They’re just being built better,” Otto said. “No disrespect to either of you, but you think too much. Murray hit it right on the head. Sometimes the most obvious answer is just that, the answer.” “Occam’s razor does seem to apply,” Amos said. “What’s that?” Otto asked. Amos smiled. “Never mind. It just means you’re probably right.”
Otto laughed. “Oh, we’re holding it, Lone Ranger. Is there a problem?” “Not if you keep your hands where I can see ’em, mister.” Otto raised his hands to shoulder height, palms out. “You’ll get no trouble from me, Ranger. No trouble ’tall.”
“Be safe, Ranger,” Otto said.
Otto calmly walked between the girl and Margaret. “Yes, honey, we’re from the government. How did you know?”
“Get the girl out of here,” Otto said. His voice was quiet, calm, but totally commanding. “Do it now.”
“Margaret,” Otto hissed. “Get her out of here.”
---
“Come on, Doctor,” Clarence Otto said, his voice tinny in her Racal suit’s headphones. “Suck it up. Now isn’t the time for you to go weak on me.”
“That’s Nguyen?” Otto asked. “You’re sure?” Margaret handed him the photo. “Sonofabitch,” Otto said as he looked from the painting to the photo and back again. “Damn, Doctor, you’ve got sharp eyes. Okay, so if that’s Nguyen, who are the other people?”
“Is that Gary Leeland?” Otto said, pointing again to the canvas.
---
He flashed his wide, easy smile. “No problem, Doc. I think I made some Kinko’s employees happy. I’m guessing it’s not every day they get sworn to secrecy at midnight and use their large color printer for national security.”
Clarence pulled out a map and gave it a quick study. “About ten minutes, give or take,” he said. Margaret grabbed Clarence’s strong arm, her face electric with urgency. “What’s the victim’s condition? What are his symptoms?” “I don’t know that, ma’am. Dew is en route, backed up by two rapid response teams in full biosuits. I believe it’s an apartment complex.” Margaret let go of his arm and tried to compose herself. “Do you think we’ll get this one alive?” “I think so, ma’am,” Clarence said. “Dew should already be there. The victim filled out a computer form. Instructions on that say to stay put and wait for help. I can’t imagine anything going wrong at this point.”
---
“Otto here.” “Get the squads in position,” Dew whispered. “I’m in Building G. Do not—I repeat, do not—approach until I say so. I’ll stay on the line. If the connection is cut off, move in immediately, understand?” “Yes sir. Margaret and Amos are with me. They’re ready.”
---
“You obviously don’t think it’s natural,” Otto said. “So you agree with Murray? That it’s a weapon?”
Otto shook his head. “I just don’t follow.”
“Then it doesn’t need people,” Otto said. “Why wouldn’t we have seen this in animals?”
Otto leaned forward. “Are you talking space travel?”
“The perfect infantry,” Otto said. “An army that doesn’t need to be fed or trained. You just mass-produce them, ship them out and when they land they build themselves and gather intel from their local host.” Amos and Margaret stared at Otto.
“Two reasons,” Otto said. “The first is recon. Gather intel on the environment, the people, the opposition. Maybe that’s why it’s not in animals, because . . .” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish the thought.
Agent Clarence Otto beamed at her. He nodded slowly. That smile of his was almost enough to take her away from this insanity, and she found herself smiling back.
“Intel is the first reason,” Otto said. “The second is to use that intel to create a beachhead. Establish control of a defensible area so you safely receive reinforcements.”
Clarence studied a map resting on his knees. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Margo, this suit is annoying,” he said. “I’m taking it off.” “Clarence, give it a rest,” Margaret said. “I don’t want to go over this again.” “But there’s no purpose for this thing,” Clarence said. “Dew has been around dozens of corpses — he hasn’t contracted anything.” “Yet.” Amos smiled. “You look like a black Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It’s not a good look for you.” “And you look like a short KKK grand dragon who washed his whites with his darks,” Clarence said. He looked at Margaret again. “And what about Dawsey? You fixed him up, you didn’t start growing triangles. This suit is making me sweat, and sweaty is definitely not a good look for me.”
Amos laughed. “You serve up a softball about being all sweaty? I’m not even touching that one. Seriously, Otto, you have to make it a little harder to make fun of you two boinking whenever you think no one is looking.” “That suit will stop microbes,” Clarence said. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t offer much protection against a pistol- whipping.” Amos laughed again and held up his hands palms out: okay, okay, take it easy.
Clarence talked tough, intimidating gravel voice and all, but over the past three months he and Amos had become fast friends. Clarence Otto was just flat- out likable. Witty, helpful, respectful and with a major streak of deductive common sense, he often put a strategic perspective on Margaret and Amos’s scientific discoveries. As for Amos, his multidisciplinary expertise and sheer brilliance had helped the team stay one step ahead of the infection. More like a half step, maybe, but at least they were still ahead.
At some point in the past three months, both men had revealed a love for basketball. Otto, a former Division III point guard and a lifelong fan of the Boston Celtics, discovered that short, frail little Amos Braun had a wicked outside jumper. Well, calling it a “jumper” was a stretch — he came off the ground maybe three inches when he shot. Amos couldn’t play one-on-one to save his life. At a game of H-O- R-S- E, however, he could beat Otto six times out of ten. Amos was also a lifelong hoops fan, although he preferred the Detroit Pistons, giving the two men plenty to argue about in the many hours when there wasn’t a corpse on the autopsy table.
---
Otto sighed. “Yes sir.” “You made her this way,” Amos said. “I remember when Margaret was a total pushover. You’re the one that got her on the Gloria Steinem express, all women- libbed and everything.” “I know, I know,” Otto said. “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Keep her barefoot and in the kitchen.”
“Amos, my diminutive white friend,” Otto said, “you’re just mad that a fine- looking black man is getting all the action.” “Fine- looking until you put on that suit and get all sweaty,” Amos said. “Then you look like a half- chewed Tootsie Roll.”
Otto smiled and nodded, which meant he had a killer comeback, but his cell phone chirped before he could speak. There was only one person who would be calling. Clarence answered. “Otto here.” He listened. His smile faded into an expression that was all business. He pinched the cell phone between his shoulder and ear, then looked at the map. “We’ll be there in three minutes.” He hung up. “What’s the matter?” Margaret asked. “Baum and Milner are down,” Otto said. “A kid named Tad found them, said Dawsey was going to his house.”
---
“Tiny white man makes a good point,” Clarence said. “Dew, can your guys get the eunuch out of here?”
“Forget it, Margo,” Clarence said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“No way,” Clarence said. “He’s probably drunk again. Dew, is he drunk?” “If not, he’s on his way.” “See?” Clarence said. “That’s it, Margo, you’re not going in there.”
“He just killed three people,” Clarence said. “Someone please tell me I’m not hearing this bleeding- heart- liberal bullshit.”
“This is bullshit,” Clarence said. “I’m going to the back to get body bags,” Margaret said. “Amos, you come help me. Clarence, if you’re so worried about my safety, get in there and tell Perry to stay put. Feel free to threaten him, because that’s what you men do and it seems to work so well. But put on your hood and gloves before you go in!”
Amos unsuccessfully tried to choke back laughter. “Something funny?” Clarence asked. “Put on your hood and gloves,” Amos said. “If you weren’t so pissed already, I’d probably make fun of you.” “Now is not the time, Amos.”
“In the bedroom I’m in charge,” Otto said sullenly. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the only place I’m in charge.” “You’re whipped.” “I don’t see you backing her down.”
“Fuck you, midget. And help me with these gloves.” Amos held the gloves so Otto could slide his hands inside. Amos made sure the connecting rings snapped home, then ran sticky tape around them. “Hey,” Amos said. “Twenty bucks says Dawsey kills you.” “You’re on.” “I’ll take it out of your locker if he does,” Amos said. “Wouldn’t look right me rifling through the pockets of a corpse.” “What ever. If you win, I guess I won’t really be worried about appearances.”
“I’m off to make twenty bucks,” Clarence said. “Been nice knowing ya,” Amos said. “See you on the other side.”
---
“Hey, Clarence,” he said. “You look like a fat ninja.” “Thanks,” Otto said. “That means so much coming from a source of wisdom like you.”
Otto slowly looked around the room, surveying the damage. “Were you drunk when you killed these people?”
“I guess so,” Otto said. “Listen, man, you know you scare the crap out of me, right?”
“Margaret is coming in here,” Otto said. “Sure she is,” Perry said. “Look at all the new toys she has to play with. See this one?” He nudged the dead little boy with his foot. “I call him Slinky.” “Save me your psycho jokes,” Otto said. “Just understand that when she’s in this room, you make any sudden moves and I’ll put you down.” “Oh, come on, Clarence! A gun? Don’t be that guy! How about you and I settle this the old- fashioned way?” “Forget it.” “What’s the matter, Clarence? Massa Dew say you can’t play with the white kids?” Behind the helmet visor, he saw Clarence’s eyes narrow. “Go ahead, boy,” Perry said. “Take a swing. I won’t tell on you.”
“I’ll pass,” Otto said. “You can save all that macho bullshit. Only one way you and I are going to dance, and that’s if a bullet takes the lead.” “Oh, that’s horrible,” Perry said. “Did you write that shit yourself?” Perry thought he saw Otto smile, just a little bit, but then the stone face slipped back into place.
---
“I’m online, Margaret,” Clarence said, his voice in her earpiece. “I have the other bodies in the second trailer. Amos is checking out the baby, but he looks fine. Did you run the test prototype yet?”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’ll let Murray know immediately. He can rush the testers into production. Great job, Margaret. That finally gives us what we need.”
---
“Russkies?” Otto said. “Doesn’t that phrase show your age?”
Otto frowned, then smiled. “Say, little white man, don’t you owe me twenty bucks?”
Otto pocketed the twenty. “He bet that Dawsey would kill me last night.”
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” Otto said. “Or something like that. I won twenty bucks — what else matters?”
“Huh,” Otto said. “I never thought of that.”
“Maybe a half stack of mini- pancakes, you mean,” Otto said.
“Oh, Amos,” Otto said, smiling as if he’d just had the most helpful idea in the history of man. “Are you upset because you can’t see over the table? Should I ask the waitress for a child’s seat?”
“I bet he will,” Otto said. “Dew here can be very persuasive.” “Twenty bucks says Dawsey doesn’t even leave the room,” Amos said. Otto nodded. “You’re on.” Margaret shook her head. “Is there anything you two won’t bet on?” “I’m sure there’s something,” Otto said. “Twenty bucks says there isn’t,” Amos said. Margaret shook her head some more. Otto smiled at Dew. “Well, go on and bring him here so I can win another twenty.”
“Doc,” Clarence said, “Dew says you need to go to the office.” “I’m a little busy,” she said. “Tell him if he wants to see me, he can come to the trailer. Then I’ll get rid of him, and you can give me a nice shoulder rub.” Clarence shook his head. “Uh, no can do, Doc. You need to get to the office, and bring a first- aid kit. Seems Dew and Perry had it out.” “Oh, no. Do we need an ambulance?” “You’re going to have to see this for yourself,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said as they reached the room. “I’ll be right here with you.” He opened the door for her.
“Like I told you,” Clarence said, “I’ll be right here.”
“Are you crazy? He’s down, he’s not dead.” “I know.” “He could snap at any second, Margo,” Clarence said. “I’m staying right here.”
“Honey, I know you want to protect me, but he’s not going to hurt me.” “He’s a killer, Margaret,” Clarence whispered back. “You’re going to have to trust my judgment,” she said. “I’ve taken care of him for five weeks, and I’m telling you he’s not going to hurt me.” “Fine, then I’ll stay to watch and see how wrong I am.”
“Well, that’s not exactly how I’d think of it,” he said. “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed if there was another guy watching me get stitched up. A nondoctor guy, of course. Doctors aren’t embarrassing in a situation like this.” “Guy logic?” “Guy logic,” he said. “Listen, can’t we at least get Amos to take care of him?” She smiled at him. “If you can talk Amos Braun into being in a room alone with Perry Dawsey, I’ll give you twenty bucks.” “I’m not taking that bet.” “Clarence, I’m a professional. I love the fact that you want to protect me, but this conversation is over, okay? Stand out here if you’re worried. If he tries anything, I’ll scream for help.” “That only works if you can make a noise before he breaks your neck.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jessihoney) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
musetrash2012-06-05 01:36 am
no subject
---
“SARS,” Otto said. “It’s the same story as with Judy Washington.”
“I’m sorry,” Otto said with his charming smile. “No questions at this time.”
“I know I’m the dummy of the bunch,” Otto said. “So pardon me for asking—but you have a CDC report. What you’re saying is the stuff you guys have been studying for the past few days, that turns out to be a known factor?”
Otto spun in the director’s chair, three full circles as he spoke. “So the more people that claim to have this disease, the more publicity it gets, then more people hear about it, and then more people think they have it.”
“Or get wind of grannies slicing up their kids, then playing all Scarface with the cops,” Otto said. “Psycho grandmamas would definitely upset Mister and Missus Average American.”
Agent Otto whipped himself in circles. He seemed to be trying to see how many spins he could get off of one push. “So the fibers have been around for a while, but only now are reaching this larval stage? Does that mean they’re evolving?”
“Margaret, may I say something?” Otto asked.
He spun once in his chair, then gripped the desk with both hands, smiling the whole time. “You seem to let people push you around. You ever notice that?”
“Because it seems to me you’re a lot stronger than you think. We’re dealing with some pretty crazy stuff here, am I right?”
“So if you’ve got something you feel we need to do, maybe you should stop being such a pussy.”
“I said, Margaret, stop being such a pussy.”
“So stop letting Murray tell you what to do.”
“So he’s the deputy director. Do you know what you are?”
Otto spun twice, then spoke. “You are the lead epidemiologist studying a new, unknown disease with horrific implications.”
“You are short-staffed, and you can’t get the experts you should have.”
“Margaret, he put you in charge of this. What will happen if you insist on talking to this Cheng guy? Do you think Murray is going to bring in someone else to replace you?”
“So,” Otto said as he gave one strong push. He started spinning, speaking one syllable on each revolution, almost as if he’d read her mind. “Use . . . what . . . you . . . have.”
---
“Yes, sir,” Otto said. He smiled at Margaret. It was a small smile, but she couldn’t miss it.
Otto cleared his throat. “Excuse me for interrupting, sir, but most people don’t get their news from papers anymore, they get it from the Internet. You can set up a web page and have it indexed so the major search engines will find it. The Net is anonymous, so a host might surf it for information on the growths. They can contact you right from the web page.”
---
“Margaret,” Otto whispered. She opened her eyes. Now he was on the other side of the desk. He pointed to her, then held his left palm down at waist level. His right hand whipped back and forth in front of his groin, like he was spanking an imaginary person bent over in front of him. Then he pointed at the phone. “Go on, girl, whip that ass.”
A longer pause. Otto had moved on from slapping the imaginary booty, and was now “riding the pony.” He looked ridiculous, a big grown man, CIA agent, in the black suit and the red tie, twirling in a circle with an expression of affected ecstasy on his face. Margaret couldn’t help but smile.
“Are you ready?” Otto asked. She nodded.
“Hello, sweetie,” Otto said.
“Hello, sir.” She didn’t look afraid at all. Nor did she look happy or excited, just matter-of-fact.
“Are you Missy Hester?”
She nodded, her curly pigtails bouncing in time. Otto’s empty right hand came out of his jacket, slowly dropping to hang at his side. Margaret stepped to Otto’s right, so the girl could see her clearly.
“Missy, we’re here to see your mother. Is she home?”
“She’s sleeping. Would you like to come in and sit down in the living room?” She stood aside and gestured with her hand. A regular little hostess.
“Thank you,” Otto said. He walked inside, head turning quickly as he seemed to scan every inch of the house.
“They’re just being built better,” Otto said. “No disrespect to either of you, but you think too much. Murray hit it right on the head. Sometimes the most obvious answer is just that, the answer.”
“Occam’s razor does seem to apply,” Amos said.
“What’s that?” Otto asked.
Amos smiled. “Never mind. It just means you’re probably right.”
Otto laughed. “Oh, we’re holding it, Lone Ranger. Is there a problem?”
“Not if you keep your hands where I can see ’em, mister.”
Otto raised his hands to shoulder height, palms out. “You’ll get no trouble from me, Ranger. No trouble ’tall.”
“Be safe, Ranger,” Otto said.
Otto calmly walked between the girl and Margaret. “Yes, honey, we’re from the government. How did you know?”
“Get the girl out of here,” Otto said. His voice was quiet, calm, but totally commanding. “Do it now.”
“Margaret,” Otto hissed. “Get her out of here.”
---
“Come on, Doctor,” Clarence Otto said, his voice tinny in her Racal suit’s headphones. “Suck it up. Now isn’t the time for you to go weak on me.”
“That’s Nguyen?” Otto asked. “You’re sure?”
Margaret handed him the photo.
“Sonofabitch,” Otto said as he looked from the painting to the photo and back again. “Damn, Doctor, you’ve got sharp eyes. Okay, so if that’s Nguyen, who are the other people?”
“Is that Gary Leeland?” Otto said, pointing again to the canvas.
---
He flashed his wide, easy smile. “No problem, Doc. I think I made some Kinko’s employees happy. I’m guessing it’s not every day they get sworn to secrecy at midnight and use their large color printer for national security.”
Clarence pulled out a map and gave it a quick study. “About ten minutes, give or take,” he said.
Margaret grabbed Clarence’s strong arm, her face electric with urgency. “What’s the victim’s condition? What are his symptoms?”
“I don’t know that, ma’am. Dew is en route, backed up by two rapid response teams in full biosuits. I believe it’s an apartment complex.”
Margaret let go of his arm and tried to compose herself. “Do you think we’ll get this one alive?”
“I think so, ma’am,” Clarence said. “Dew should already be there. The victim filled out a computer form. Instructions on that say to stay put and wait for help. I can’t imagine anything going wrong at this point.”
---
“Otto here.”
“Get the squads in position,” Dew whispered. “I’m in Building G. Do not—I repeat, do not—approach until I say so. I’ll stay on the line. If the connection is cut off, move in immediately, understand?”
“Yes sir. Margaret and Amos are with me. They’re ready.”
---
“You obviously don’t think it’s natural,” Otto said. “So you agree with Murray? That it’s a weapon?”
Otto shook his head. “I just don’t follow.”
“Then it doesn’t need people,” Otto said. “Why wouldn’t we have seen this in animals?”
Otto leaned forward. “Are you talking space travel?”
“The perfect infantry,” Otto said. “An army that doesn’t need to be fed or trained. You just mass-produce them, ship them out and when they land they build themselves and gather intel from their local host.”
Amos and Margaret stared at Otto.
“Two reasons,” Otto said. “The first is recon. Gather intel on the environment, the people, the opposition. Maybe that’s why it’s not in animals, because . . .” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish the thought.
Agent Clarence Otto beamed at her. He nodded slowly. That smile of his was almost enough to take her away from this insanity, and she found herself smiling back.
“Intel is the first reason,” Otto said. “The second is to use that intel to create a beachhead. Establish control of a defensible area so you safely receive reinforcements.”
no subject
---
Clarence studied a map resting on his knees. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on, Margo, this suit is annoying,” he said. “I’m taking it off.”
“Clarence, give it a rest,” Margaret said. “I don’t want to go over this again.”
“But there’s no purpose for this thing,” Clarence said. “Dew has been around dozens of corpses — he hasn’t contracted anything.”
“Yet.”
Amos smiled. “You look like a black Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It’s not a good look for you.”
“And you look like a short KKK grand dragon who washed his whites with his darks,” Clarence said. He looked at Margaret again. “And what about Dawsey? You fixed him up, you didn’t start growing triangles. This suit is making me sweat, and sweaty is definitely not a good look for me.”
Amos laughed. “You serve up a softball about being all sweaty? I’m not even touching that one. Seriously, Otto, you have to make it a little harder to make fun of you two boinking whenever you think no one is looking.”
“That suit will stop microbes,” Clarence said. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t offer much protection against a pistol- whipping.”
Amos laughed again and held up his hands palms out: okay, okay, take it easy.
Clarence talked tough, intimidating gravel voice and all, but over the past three months he and Amos had become fast friends. Clarence Otto was just flat- out likable. Witty, helpful, respectful and with a major streak of deductive common sense, he often put a strategic perspective on Margaret and Amos’s scientific discoveries. As for Amos, his multidisciplinary expertise and sheer brilliance had helped the team stay one step ahead of the infection.
More like a half step, maybe, but at least they were still ahead.
At some point in the past three months, both men had revealed a love for basketball. Otto, a former Division III point guard and a lifelong fan of the Boston Celtics, discovered that short, frail little Amos Braun had a wicked outside jumper.
Well, calling it a “jumper” was a stretch — he came off the ground maybe three inches when he shot. Amos couldn’t play one-on-one to save his life. At a game of H-O- R-S- E, however, he could beat Otto six times out of ten. Amos was also a lifelong hoops fan, although he preferred the Detroit Pistons, giving the two men plenty to argue about in the many hours when there wasn’t a corpse on the autopsy table.
---
Otto sighed. “Yes sir.”
“You made her this way,” Amos said. “I remember when Margaret was a total pushover. You’re the one that got her on the Gloria Steinem express, all women- libbed and everything.”
“I know, I know,” Otto said. “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Keep her barefoot and in the kitchen.”
“Amos, my diminutive white friend,” Otto said, “you’re just mad that a fine- looking black man is getting all the action.”
“Fine- looking until you put on that suit and get all sweaty,” Amos said. “Then you look like a half- chewed Tootsie Roll.”
Otto smiled and nodded, which meant he had a killer comeback, but his cell phone chirped before he could speak. There was only one person who would be calling. Clarence answered.
“Otto here.” He listened. His smile faded into an expression that was all business. He pinched the cell phone between his shoulder and ear, then looked at the map.
“We’ll be there in three minutes.” He hung up.
“What’s the matter?” Margaret asked.
“Baum and Milner are down,” Otto said. “A kid named Tad found them, said Dawsey was going to his house.”
---
“Tiny white man makes a good point,” Clarence said. “Dew, can your guys get the eunuch out of here?”
“Forget it, Margo,” Clarence said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“No way,” Clarence said. “He’s probably drunk again. Dew, is he drunk?”
“If not, he’s on his way.”
“See?” Clarence said. “That’s it, Margo, you’re not going in there.”
“He just killed three people,” Clarence said. “Someone please tell me I’m not hearing this bleeding- heart- liberal bullshit.”
“This is bullshit,” Clarence said.
“I’m going to the back to get body bags,” Margaret said. “Amos, you come help me. Clarence, if you’re so worried about my safety, get in there and tell Perry to stay put. Feel free to threaten him, because that’s what you men do and it seems to work so well. But put on your hood and gloves before you go in!”
Amos unsuccessfully tried to choke back laughter.
“Something funny?” Clarence asked.
“Put on your hood and gloves,” Amos said. “If you weren’t so pissed already, I’d probably make fun of you.”
“Now is not the time, Amos.”
“In the bedroom I’m in charge,” Otto said sullenly. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the only place I’m in charge.”
“You’re whipped.”
“I don’t see you backing her down.”
“Fuck you, midget. And help me with these gloves.”
Amos held the gloves so Otto could slide his hands inside. Amos made sure the connecting rings snapped home, then ran sticky tape around them.
“Hey,” Amos said. “Twenty bucks says Dawsey kills you.”
“You’re on.”
“I’ll take it out of your locker if he does,” Amos said. “Wouldn’t look right me rifling through the pockets of a corpse.”
“What ever. If you win, I guess I won’t really be worried about appearances.”
“I’m off to make twenty bucks,” Clarence said.
“Been nice knowing ya,” Amos said. “See you on the other side.”
---
“Hey, Clarence,” he said. “You look like a fat ninja.”
“Thanks,” Otto said. “That means so much coming from a source of wisdom like you.”
Otto slowly looked around the room, surveying the damage. “Were you drunk when you killed these people?”
“I guess so,” Otto said. “Listen, man, you know you scare the crap out of me, right?”
“Margaret is coming in here,” Otto said.
“Sure she is,” Perry said. “Look at all the new toys she has to play with. See this one?” He nudged the dead little boy with his foot. “I call him Slinky.”
“Save me your psycho jokes,” Otto said. “Just understand that when she’s in this room, you make any sudden moves and I’ll put you down.”
“Oh, come on, Clarence! A gun? Don’t be that guy! How about you and I settle this the old- fashioned way?”
“Forget it.”
“What’s the matter, Clarence? Massa Dew say you can’t play with the white kids?”
Behind the helmet visor, he saw Clarence’s eyes narrow.
“Go ahead, boy,” Perry said. “Take a swing. I won’t tell on you.”
“I’ll pass,” Otto said. “You can save all that macho bullshit. Only one way you and I are going to dance, and that’s if a bullet takes the lead.”
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Perry said. “Did you write that shit yourself?”
Perry thought he saw Otto smile, just a little bit, but then the stone face slipped back into place.
---
“I’m online, Margaret,” Clarence said, his voice in her earpiece. “I have the other bodies in the second trailer. Amos is checking out the baby, but he looks fine. Did you run the test prototype yet?”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’ll let Murray know immediately. He can rush the testers into production. Great job, Margaret. That finally gives us what we need.”
---
“Russkies?” Otto said. “Doesn’t that phrase show your age?”
Otto frowned, then smiled. “Say, little white man, don’t you owe me twenty bucks?”
Otto pocketed the twenty. “He bet that Dawsey would kill me last night.”
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” Otto said. “Or something like that. I won twenty bucks — what else matters?”
“Huh,” Otto said. “I never thought of that.”
“Maybe a half stack of mini- pancakes, you mean,” Otto said.
“Oh, Amos,” Otto said, smiling as if he’d just had the most helpful idea in the history of man. “Are you upset because you can’t see over the table? Should I ask the waitress for a child’s seat?”
“I bet he will,” Otto said. “Dew here can be very persuasive.”
“Twenty bucks says Dawsey doesn’t even leave the room,” Amos said.
Otto nodded. “You’re on.”
Margaret shook her head. “Is there anything you two won’t bet on?”
“I’m sure there’s something,” Otto said.
“Twenty bucks says there isn’t,” Amos said.
Margaret shook her head some more.
Otto smiled at Dew. “Well, go on and bring him here so I can win another twenty.”
“Doc,” Clarence said, “Dew says you need to go to the office.”
“I’m a little busy,” she said. “Tell him if he wants to see me, he can come to the trailer. Then I’ll get rid of him, and you can give me a nice shoulder rub.”
Clarence shook his head. “Uh, no can do, Doc. You need to get to the office, and bring a first- aid kit. Seems Dew and Perry had it out.”
“Oh, no. Do we need an ambulance?”
“You’re going to have to see this for yourself,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said as they reached the room. “I’ll be right here with you.” He opened the door for her.
“Like I told you,” Clarence said, “I’ll be right here.”
“Are you crazy? He’s down, he’s not dead.”
“I know.”
“He could snap at any second, Margo,” Clarence said. “I’m staying right here.”
“Honey, I know you want to protect me, but he’s not going to hurt me.”
“He’s a killer, Margaret,” Clarence whispered back.
“You’re going to have to trust my judgment,” she said. “I’ve taken care of him for five weeks, and I’m telling you he’s not going to hurt me.”
“Fine, then I’ll stay to watch and see how wrong I am.”
“Well, that’s not exactly how I’d think of it,” he said. “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed if there was another guy watching me get stitched up. A nondoctor guy, of course. Doctors aren’t embarrassing in a situation like this.”
“Guy logic?”
“Guy logic,” he said. “Listen, can’t we at least get Amos to take care of him?”
She smiled at him. “If you can talk Amos Braun into being in a room alone with Perry Dawsey, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“I’m not taking that bet.”
“Clarence, I’m a professional. I love the fact that you want to protect me, but this conversation is over, okay? Stand out here if you’re worried. If he tries anything, I’ll scream for help.”
“That only works if you can make a noise before he breaks your neck.”