I’m smarter.”
Squealing train wheels drowned the giant’s response. He swept the pipe at Donovan’s head. Donovan feinted and leapt back to the empty tracks. The pipe struck the third rail. The giant screamed as the electricity shot up his nervous system. Every sinew crackled, bending even his might. Roast pork smoked the air. His feet shuffled and his hair began to smolder. Donovan covered his head with his arms. The train rattled and groaned. Its headlights blinked as the power level fluctuated but the momentum was not to be denied. The giant just managed to release the pipe as the front of the train smashed into him.
Or did it?
As Donovan watched, incredulously, the train picked up speed. In a few moments it had disappeared into the night, leaving only the faintest echo of the staccato laugh:
Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha…
EIGHT
FALLOUT
A fter the aquarium, working the bar at Polaris was a surreal experience.
Donovan stayed on autopilot throughout the next night. Mindlessly he poured cocktails while navigating memories of the horror he’d seen, the anger it had inspired at the perpetrator, and the semi-guilty thrill of his actions in response to both. What he’d seen, what he’d done, stirred something within him that made both school and bartending unbearably boring and unutterably reassuring. Reality is flexible.
He wasn’t closing that night, so it was a pleasant surprise to see Joann enter as his shift was ending.
“I have had a bad day and I wish to get drunk,” she said. “Would you care to join me?”
Images of Katz being torn apart on the other side of the shark tank glass filled his mind’s eye. “Absolutely.”
***
The night was warm with a breeze chasing humidity from the narrow streets of Greenwich Village. Donovan parked on Seventh Avenue South, and they went into Sushi Samba. The bright tropical colors of the rooftop bar, the greens and oranges and reds, lightened the room but not the mood. They grabbed the last two seats at the end of the bar and settled in with a round of cocktails; Chopin martini, up, for her, a concoction with strawberry vodka called a nina fresa for him. He sipped it. Good thing I’m secure enough in my masculinity to order paper umbrella drinks . “I’m assuming the mayor’s press conference went the way you expected this afternoon?”
“Did you get to see any of it?”
“We had the news on at the bar at one point, but no sound.”
“It was quite a show.” She took a long swallow. “As expected, he singled out Raphael by name as one of the main causes why the Dinkins case was going nowhere. His poll numbers have been slipping, and Raphael is a probable opponent next election. Raphael had no choice but to pull me this afternoon and give it to Jesse.”
“He gave no credence to what happened at the aquarium?”
“Privately, yes. When we talked, I got the impression he would have been willing to give me more slack. But publicly…” She raised her glass. “Here’s to the mayor being the recipient of a nice, long taser shock.”
“Ow.” He rested a hand on her leg. “I’m sorry, Jo.”
“The thing is,” she said, putting her hand on his and holding it in place, “I’m sure that was Charming Man who tasered me. He sort of looked like the partial picture we have of him, but it’s more than that. His voice, the way he approached me, his manner—I know it was him. I know it.”
“That’s a pretty big ‘sort of’.”
She nodded and sipped more vodka.
“But if it’s true, it means Charming Man and Mister X are the same person, and the Dinkins Shelter case is part of the zodiac murders case.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do anything about it now.”
“You can’t do a little investigating on your own? I’ll help you. I’ve done pretty well with Sergeant Fullam so far.”
She regarded him with a worldly smile. “It doesn’t work like that. I appreciate the sentiment, but I have to follow orders. Raphael will find another high
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