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87th Precinct - The Frumious Bandersnatch Part 1

87th Precinct - The Frumious Bandersnatch - BestLightNovel.com

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McBain, Ed.

87th Precinct.

The Frumious Banders.n.a.t.c.h.

The city in these pages is imaginary.

The people, the places are all fict.i.tious.



Only the police routine is based on established investigatory technique.

1.

SHE CAME CRUISINGdownriver like the city personified, all bright lights and big bad music, banners and flags flying from bowsprits and railings, a hundred and sixty-three feet of sleek power and elegant design. It was costing Barney Loomis $6,000 to charter the yacht and its staff of twenty. The additional cost of catering food and drink for a hundred and twelve music industry movers and shakers was close to $12,000. Add the cost of the ten-piece orchestra, and a 15% service charge, and the 8.25% city tax, and Loomis figured the launch ofBanders.n.a.t.c.h would cost Bison Records something like twenty-five grand overall. But it would be worth ten times that amount if the CD jumped to the top of the charts.

The boat, or the s.h.i.+p, or the vessel, or whatever the people at Celebrity Yacht Cruises had called it when Loomis was negotiating for the bash, had picked up the a.s.sorted glittery guests at Pier 27 West, just off the new marina complex in the renovated Overlook Zone of the city. The boat, or the s.h.i.+pa"

Loomis liked to think of it as a launch.

aWeall charter alaunch for the launch!a head told Tamar, and shead clapped her hands in excitementa"well, h.e.l.l, she was still only twenty, she reacted like a teenager more often than not.

The officiallaunch, then, of the new alb.u.m had started at sixP.M. with c.o.c.ktails on the bridge deck of thelaunch a"heloved that puna"where bistro tables were festooned with roses that picked up the red of the mask the beast was wearing on the alb.u.m cover, and where the mahogany-topped bar seemed haphazardly strewn with giveaway CDs and tapes. The covers on each version of the alb.u.m showed Tamar as skimpily dressed as she was in the video that had aired simultaneously last night on MTV, VH1, BET, and WU2. Wearing a shredded white tunic that seemed to have been torn forcefully from her legs, she struggled in the clutches of a muscular black dancer wearing an oversized red mask that made him look like some sort of fire-breathing mythical beasta"the Banders.n.a.t.c.h of the t.i.tle songa"who brought her close to his gaping jaws, while she tried to fend him off, creamy white b.r.e.a.s.t.s tumbling virtually free of her equally tattered top.

aLike inKing Kong, a Loomis had told her.

aLike in Kingwho? a shead asked, never having seen either of the moviesa"well, shewas only twenty.

A mahogany stairway swept the a.s.sembled guests down to the main deck salon where the pa.s.sed hors daoeuvres included raw oysters (even though this was already the fourth day of May, which was not an aRa month when oysters were supposed to be safe, according to the aOysters aRa in Seasona legend), and chanterelle-and-lobster risotto cakes with white truffle crme frache and chives, and salmon tartare on scallion potato chips. For dinner, there was first a mesclun salad with walnuts, Stilton, and cranberries, and then a choice of either grilled tarragon chicken or seared mustard salmon, both served with steamed asparagus. For dessert, the chef had prepared chocolate pt with vanilla bean sauce and raspberries. Merlot and Chardonnay were served with the meal. A champagne toast was planned for later this evening, after Tamar sang the t.i.tle song of the new alb.u.m.

Barney Loomis was a big man, and he didnat get that way by accident. His plate was heaping full, and he demolished his dinner with obvious gusto now, listening to the chatter all around him, alert to every signal beamed from this influential crowd. For a record company mogula"he tended to think of himself as a mogula"he was dressed somewhat conservatively, wearing a mocha colored cashmere sports coat over slacks a shade darker, a beige sports s.h.i.+rt open at the throat, a gold necklace showing. His hair was black and worn in a sort of s.h.a.ggy-dog style, his eyes brown. He fancied a spade beard the same color as his hair but strewn with a few white whiskers that gave it a distinguished professorial look, he thought.

As the launch cruised up the River Dix, pa.s.sing under the bridges that connected Isola with Calmas Point and Majesta, gliding past Cavanaugh Island and the exclusive Cavanaugh Club, and coming back inbound on the deep water range to head downtown again on the River Harb, a disc jockey began spinning songs from Tamar Valparaisoas debut alb.u.m, and the talk was of nothing butBanders.n.a.t.c.h and the spectacular television video that would cause the single to leap onto the chartsa"Loomis hoped, he hoped. The stars and the moon were bright overhead.

The music swelled.

Several brave souls ventured out onto the dance floor.

TONIGHT WAS OLLIEaS,first date with Patricia Gomez.

Man, she looked like a million bucks.

He had first admired her feminine pulchritude in uniform, the blue tailor-mades showing off her perky figure to great advantage, ah yes. But in uniform, she wore highly polished flat black rubber-soled shoes. And in uniform, her long black hair was pulled up and tucked under her cap, and she wore no lipstick or eye shadow, and she carried a nine-millimeter Glock on her right hip.

But tonighta On this balmy, breezy, first Sat.u.r.day night in Maya Patricia Gomez was wearing a tight-fitting red dress cut high on the thigh and low on the neck. And tonight, Patricia Gomez was wearing her raven hair falling to the shoulders, punctuated by dimesized sized circles of red earrings on either side of her beautiful face. And tonight, Patricia Gomez was wearing glossy red lipstick as bright as the dress, and midnight-blue eye shadow that made her look slinky and s.e.xy and Spanish, like some seorita coming down a long wrought-iron staircase in a movie with banditos and good guys. And tonight, Patricia Gomez was barelegged in strappy red satin sandals that made her seem even taller than her five-feet-seven, which Ollie had already informed her was a perfect height for a woman.

Best of all, Patricia Gomez was in his arms, and they were dancing.

Detective/First Grade Oliver Wendell Weeks was a d.a.m.n fine dancer, if he said so himself.

The place he had chosen for their inaugural outing was a spot called Billy Barnacles, which was perched on the edge of the River Harb, on the cityas Upper North Side. The place served great sea fooda"he had asked her two nights ago if she liked sea fooda"and it had the advantage of a live band and a parquet dance floor under the stars and directly on the riveras edge. The band called itself The River Ratsa Ollie wondered what their name was when they were playing someplace less proximate, ah yes, to the river, but theyad been playing here forever, and in fact Arnie Cooper, the leader, was Billy Cooperas brother, whoowned Billy Barnacles, but that was another story.

The band played all kinds of music, all of it danceable. Dixieland from the twenties, swing from the thirties and forties, doo-wop from the fifties, rock from the sixties all the way to the present, even a rap song or two to satisfy the handful of Negro customers who wandered in from Diamondback further uptown. Ollie did not mind dancing on the same floor as apeople of color,a as they sometimes preferred calling themselves, so long as they behaved themselves. The trouble with most Negroesa"and Ollie preferred calling them this because he knew the outmoded label p.i.s.sed them offa"was that they seldom knew how to behave themselves. He considered this a crying shame, which was why he tried to take as many of them off the street as he possibly could.

But this was a Sat.u.r.day night, and not a time to be ruminating about the difficulties of the job in a city as large and as diversified, ah yes, as this one. He considered it a comment upon his social apt.i.tude that he had never once discussed police work all through dinner, and was not now discussing it as he and Patricia glided nimbly across the floor to a spirited version of aWhen the Saints Go Marching In,a another of the tunes in The River Ratsa repertoire.

To watch Ollie prance around the dance floor was tantamount to watching the hippos inFantasia performing to aDance of the Hours,a except that Ollie wasnat wearing a tutu. He was wearing instead a dark blue tropical-weight suit he had purchased at L&G, which was short for Lewis and Gregory, two brothersa"literally and figurativelya"whose shop Ollie frequented on Chase Street in the Eight-Eight Precinct, where both he and Patricia worked. Ollie suspected that half the clothing at L&G had fallen off the back of a truck, which meant it had been stolen. But aDonat Ask, Donat Tella was a very good policy to follow when you were looking for designer-label garments at discount prices. The suit made Ollie look a lot thinner than he actually was, which meant he looked like an armored weapons carrier instead of a tank, not to mix metaphors with hippos, oh no, malittle chickadees. Ollie was also wearing a white s.h.i.+rt and a red tie, which made him look patriotic in the blue suit, and which also picked up Patriciaas dominant color scheme, the tie, that is.

For a fat mana Ollie knew that there were some people in this city who called him aFat Ollie,a but never to his face, which he considered a measure of respect. Besides, he would break their heads. He himself never thought of himself as being afat,a per se. Large, yes. Big, yes.

For a big large man, then, especially one who was gamboling about the dance floor the way he was, Ollie sweated very little. He figured this had something to do with glands. Everything in life had something to do with glands.

He twirled and whirled Patricia.

The number was reaching a climax.

Ollie pulled Patricia in as close as his belly would allow.

aA HIT VIDEOis all about s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g,a Todd Jefferson was telling Loomis. aThe guys out there want to whack they castles on Britneyas bellyb.u.t.ton, the teenybopper girls want to wrap they little b.o.o.bs around Usheras d.i.c.k. Itas as simple as that.a Loomis tended to agree with him, but he wished he was talking about Tamar Valparaiso instead of Britney Spears. As for Usher, he didnat give a ratas a.s.s about himor his d.i.c.k.

aHit videos are all about guys and girls in they underwears,a Jefferson said. aWhite guys like to see leggy black girls in they sheer panties. Black dudes like to see t.i.tty white girls in they skimpy bras. All this black-white s.h.i.+t really grabs aem.a Todd Jefferson was a black man himself, with a black wife, but he was purported to have a white mistress. Loomis figured he knew whereof he spoke.

aTake J. Lo,a Jefferson said. aShe worked both sides of the street. In the movies, she was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g white guys, in real life she was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g ole P. Diddy. Your little girl could take a few lessons from her.a Loomis knew he was talking about Tamar.

Little girl.

34-C cup.

Some little girl.

aHer being Hispanic and all.a Loomis knew this was only half-correct. Tamaras father was Mexican, hence the soulful brown eyes, but her mother was of Russian descent, hence the blond hair with a little help from Miss Clairol. Her South-of-the-Border heritage pretty much guaranteed the loyalty of the Hispanic market. It was the crossover crowd they were going for withBanders.n.a.t.c.h. Bring in all those little Anglos who belonged heart and soul to Britney. If they failed to do thata aNot too many singers can do what J. Lo did, you know,a Jefferson said. aOnly other artists done it before her was Boyz II Men.a Loomis didnat know what the h.e.l.l he was talking about. Did he mean s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g white men in movies? s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a black man in real life?

aThree number-one hits in the Billboard Hot 100 for five weeks or more,a Jefferson said, nodding. aJ. Lo did it with aAinat It Funny.a Sheas the lady your little girl has to beat, man.a aWeare hoping for a number-one single with the t.i.tle song ons.n.a.t.c.h, a Loomis said.

aBy the way,a Jefferson asked, ais that related to her p.u.s.s.y in some way? The t.i.tle of the alb.u.m?a aNo,a Loomis said. aWhat makes you thinka?a aCause it sounds somewhat p.o.r.nographic, you know? Banders.n.a.t.c.h? Sounds like the girl has a whole rock group going down on her p.u.s.s.y.Band, you know?s.n.a.t.c.h, you know? Banders.n.a.t.c.h. You know whut Iam saying?a aNo, itas not intended that way.a aThatas not necessarilybad, mind you,a Jefferson said. aThat kind of a.s.sociation. It relates back to what I was saying before. About videos being all about s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g. Does your little girl screw somebody on this video?a It dismayed Loomis to learn that Jefferson hadnat evenlooked at the f.u.c.king thing yet. CEO of WU2, the fourth-largest video TV station in the country, he hadnat evenglanced at the new video.

aYes,a Loomis said, ashe screws the frumious Banders.n.a.t.c.h.a aUh-huh,a Jefferson said.

aThis big black dude wearing a monster mask,a Loomis said.

aIs that what Banders.n.a.t.c.h means? Big black dude? CauseIam a big black dude, man, and n.o.body ever called me no Banders.n.a.t.c.h before. Nor anyother kind of s.n.a.t.c.h.a aNo, it has nothing to do with being black.a aThen whatdoes it have to do with?a Jefferson asked. aCause I have to tell you, man, the word aBanders.n.a.t.c.ha is bewildering to me.a aActually, itas a word Lewis Carroll invented.a aWhoas that? Bisonas Artistic Director?a Bison was the name of Loomisa label. His Artistic Director was a man named Carl Galloway, whom Loomis had hired away from Universal/Motown, where head been Manager of Artist-Development. Jefferson should have known that. CEO of WU2, Loomis thought again, doesnat know Lewis Carroll was an English writer and not Bisonas f.u.c.kinArtistic Director. s.h.i.+t, man!

aLewis Carroll wroteAlice in Wonderland, a Loomis said.

aAh. Nice. I liked that movie,a Jefferson said. aDisney, right?a aNot the movie,a Loomis said. aThe book. The one that had aThe Jabberwocka in it.a Jefferson looked at him blankly.

Loomis began quoting.

aBeware the Jabberwock, my son!

aThe jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

aBeware the Jubjub bird, and shun aThe frumious Banders.n.a.t.c.h!a aFrumious, huh?a Jefferson said. aStillsounds p.o.r.nographic to me.a aTHERE IS SOMETHINGtotally obscene about chocolate,a Patricia was telling him.

She was dipping into the double chocolate souffl she had ordered. Ollie was on his second wedge of strawberry short cake. The band was playing a tune Patricia recognized from Christina Aguileraas first alb.u.m. It was called aWhen You Put Your Hands On Me,a and it was all about this girl who gets all oozy when this guy touches her. It was a very hot song that sounded as if Christina had written it herself from her own personal experience, but she probably hadnat. There was a timea"before Patricia joined the forcea"when she wished she could be a rock singer like Christina Aguilera. Every young Hispanic girl in the city wished she could be a rock singer like either Jennifer Lopez or Christina Aguilera. There was only one trouble; Patricia had a lousy voice. Even her mother said she had a lousy voice.

aMy sister went to Australia last year on one of these tours,a Patricia said. aAndaI forget which town it wasaa aYou have a sister?a Ollie said.

aI havetwo sisters, actually. And a brother, too. My older sister went to Australia with her husband, and I think it was Adelaide whereaa aIs that your sisteras name?a aNo, thatas the name of the town. At least, Ithink that was the name of the town. Where she had this great chocolate dessert. They have this shop sells chocolate desserts there, you know? And itas called aThe Chocolate s.l.u.t.a Isnat that a terrific name?a aGreat,a Ollie said. aThe Chocolate s.l.u.t. Perfect. Whatis your sisteras name?a aThe one who went to Australia?a aWell, yes. Well, both of them, actually.a aSheas called Isabella. The other one, my youngeraa aComeon, a Ollie said, and almost dropped a piece of cake off his fork.

aWhat?a Patricia asked, puzzled.

aThatasmy sisteras name!a aGet out of here!a aI mean it. Well, not Isabell-a,but itas Isabelle. Yes.a aHow about that?a Patricia said, grinning.

aWhatas the other oneas name?a aWhy? Do you have two sisters, too?a aNo, just the one. But Iam curious.a aEnriqueta. It means aHenrietta.a a aDo you know what Patricia means?a aWellaPatricia, I guess. I think itas the same in Spanish as in English.a aIknow what it means,a Ollie said, and grinned knowingly.

aHow do you know whata?a aI looked it up.a aGet out!a aIt means aone of n.o.ble descent.a Itas from the Latin.a aNo kidding?a aThatas what the book said.a aGee,a Patricia said.

aI think it suits you,a Ollie said. aWould you care for another souffl?a IF THE THREEpeople on the boat had been hired by Central Casting, theyad have been labeled The Hunk, The Pretty One, and The Nerd.

The Hunk was driving the boat.

His name was Avery Hanes.

Tall and somber looking, with curly black hair and dark brown eyes, he was muscularly builta"not because head ever done time but simply because he worked out regularly. Like the other two, Avery was wearing black jeans, a black sweats.h.i.+rt, and black running shoes. Later tonight, he would put on one of the masks. But for now he was enjoying the mild May breezes that blew in off the stern of the boat, riffling his hair, touching his face like a kiss. Avery had once worked for the telephone company and then had sold electronics at The Wiz. Then head got the job at Lorelei Records on St. Johnas Av. The gig tonight was sort of related.

The Pretty One was Averyas girlfriend.

Some five-feet-six-inches tall, twenty-four years old, redheaded and green-eyed and freckled and lithe and lean and wearing for the job tonight the same black jeans and Reeboks and black sweats.h.i.+rt without a bra. Her name was Kellie Morgan, and she was here because this had to look like a nice little boating party cruising up the river and not some people intent on mischief. She was here because a pretty face in the crowd had a way of stilling the most dire fears. She was here because her boyfriend Avery had told her this would be a piece of cake that would be over and done with by Tuesday night at this time, and there was nothing to worry about because it was all planned to the minute and no one would get hurt and theread be a quarter of a million bucks for the three of them to split when all was said and done.

The Nerd had straggly blond hair and intense blue eyes and contact lenses over those eyes. He looked like a man who might be an accountant for a small private firm, while actually he was an excon whoad been paroled only five and a bit more months ago after having done time for 1st Degree Robbery, a Cla.s.s-B felony punishable by a prison term not to exceed twenty-five years. That didnat mean Calvin Robert Wilkins wasnat smart; it merely meant head been caught. He wasnat as smart as Avery, but then again he didnat have to be. Head got along just fine until the bad break that night of the bank heist when he got a flat tire during the getaway. Head tried to ride out the flat, but the tire fell all to pieces and shreds, and suddenly he was riding on the rim with sparks flying and the fuzz gaining, and before you knew it his luck ran out completely and there he was upstate, wearing a number. Head been paroled from Miramar shortly before Thanksgiving. Until just before Christmas, head been working as a dishwasher in a deli on Carpenter Avenue. Then head found the job at Lorelei Records, which was where head met Avery.

The boat they were on was a Rinker 27-footer powered with a 320-hp Bravo Two that could juice up to almost forty-three miles per at top speed. There was an aft cabin with an oversized mattress, and the dinette seating in the lounge could convert to a double berth, but they didnat expect to be sleeping on the boat.

If everything went as planned tonight, by this time Tuesday, theyad all be sleeping in their own little beddie-byes.

If everything went as planned.

TOM WHITTAKERwas program director for radio station WHAM. He was telling Harry Di Fidelioa"Bisonas Vice President of Radio Marketinga"that the question his station recently had to ask themselves was whether they should skew their targets younger or still go for the mother/daughter double play.

aIt wasnat an easy decision to make,a Whittaker said. aWith all these new uptempo releases, we all at once had a responsive audience for teen-based pop and hip-hop acts.a aSo which way are you going?a Di Fidelio asked.

aWell, weall continue to beam primarily to our twenty-five to thirty-four base. But what weave done over the past few months is expand our focus to the eighteen to twenty-four demographic. Weare trying to get away from that image of a thirty-something station. We want our listeners to think of us as dynamic and youthful instead.a aThat makes sense,a Di Fidelio said, and then got down to what Bison was paying him for. aWe think Tamar will have a broad base among the thirty-somethings aswell as the younger group. Her appeal is what you might call universal.a aOh, hey, sheas terrific,a Whittaker said, gobbling down his second helping of chocolate pt with vanilla bean sauce and raspberries. aWhat Iam trying to say, though, Barryamay I call you Barry?a aHarry. Actually, itas Harry.a aHarry, right, what Iam trying to say, Harry, is that it was merely a matter of re-examining our goals. A lot of Top 40 stations try too hard to pitch their product to both the kiddies and their parents, and the result is ma.s.s confusion. At Radio 180, weaugmented our focus rather than radically change it, and we actually improved our ratings with demos who wanted to feel younger or who just wanted to listen with their kids.a a aBanders.n.a.t.c.ha should appeal to both,a Di Fidelio said.

aOh, hey, sheas terrific. I feel sure sheall get hundreds of plays on our station.a If much of what Whittaker was saying sounded like total horses.h.i.+t, thatas because much of itwas total horses.h.i.+t. Whittaker knew, and Di Fidelio knew, anda"with the exception of the crew and the caterers and the black dancer whoad be playing the role of the Banders.n.a.t.c.h when Tamar performed the song later tonighta"everyone on this s...o...b..at vessel knew that most Top 40 and rock radio stations today got paid by the record manufacturers, and in some instances by the performing artists themselves, to play their songs on the air.

Moreover, this practice of Pay-for-Play, as it was called, was entirely legal provided the station mentioned on air that payment had been made. Usually, the deejay merely said, aThis record was brought to you by Bison Records.a Whittaker knew, and Di Fidelio knew that the music industry was a twelve-billion-dollar-a-year business. They further knew that only three broadcasters controlled more than half of the top hundred radio markets in the U.S. There were 10,000a"count aem, Maudea"10,000 commercial radio stations in the land, and record companies depended on about 1,000 of the largest ones to create hits and sell records. Each of those thousand stations added approximately three new songs to its playlist every week.

Enter the independent record promoter.

Hired by the record company, the indie got paid each time there was an aadda to the playlist of a Top 40 or rock station. Average price for an add was a thousand bucks, but the fee could go as high as five or ten thousand depending on the number of listeners a station had. All in all, the indies earned about three million bucks a week for their services.

That was a lot of fried corn husks, honey.

Whittaker knew, and Di Fidelio knew, and everyone connected with either Bison Records or WHAMa"aRadio 180 on your dial!aa"that a record promoter named Arturo Garcia, who worked for the indie firm of Instant Prompt, Inc., had made a deal with WHAM that guaranteed the station $300,000 in annual promotional payments provided its list of clients regularly made the stationas playlist. Morever, in certain special circ.u.mstancesa Consider, for example, the case of Tamar Valparaisoas debut alb.u.m,Banders.n.a.t.c.h. What with Carrollas original rhyming (which would certainly sound like hip-hop doggerel to many teenagers), and what with Tamaras poundingly simple five-note melody (that would most certainly sound s.e.xually-driven to many teenagers), the t.i.tle-song single seemed poised, please dear G.o.d, to do what Alicia KeysaSongs in A Minor had done in its first week, more than 235,000 copies for a debut alb.u.m, #1 on both the Billboard Top 200 Alb.u.m Chart and the R&B Alb.u.m Chart, please dear G.o.d, let it happen!

But just in case G.o.d wasnat listening, and just in case all that legal payola didnat do the trick, IPI (ever mindful of its guiding slogan, aThe Tin Is in the Spina) was paying WHAMa"and each of forty other top stations around the countrya"a $5,000 bonus for fifty plays in the first week of aBanders.n.a.t.c.hasa release. That came to a hundred bucks a spin, and that was a whole lot of tin, man.

To put it mildly, much was riding on the success of that alb.u.m.

Meanwhile, in the main stateroom of theRiver Princess, Tamar Valparaiso was getting into her scanty costume.

EVER SINCE9/11, and especially since the FBI began issuing vague warnings of terrorist attacks. .h.i.ther and yon but nowhere in particular, the Police Department had been on high alert for any possible threats to the cityas bridges. There were 143 men and 4 women in the Harbor Patrol Unit, which operated a munic.i.p.al navy of twenty vessels, ranging in size from twenty to fifty-two feet. The workhorse of the HPU was the new 36-foot launch, which could travel up to thirty-eight miles an houra"more than twice the speed of the older vessels in the fleet. The Police Department had recently purchased four of these boats at a cost of $370,000 per. To the relief of taxpayers everywhere in the city, the boats were expected to last twenty years.

Not too long ago, Sergeant Andrew McIntosh would have been wearing the same orange life vest over his blue uniform, but there wouldnat have been a Ruger Mini-14 semiautomatic rifle lying across the dash. You broke those out only when you were going on a drug raid. Those and the twelve-gauge shotguns. Nowadays, with lunatics running loose all over the world, the heavy weapons werede rigueur for the course, as they said in old Glasgow, Scotland, from which fine city McIntoshas grandmother had migrated.

McIntosh was fifty-two years old, and head been driving boats for the HPU for twenty-two years now, before which head operated a charter fis.h.i.+ng boat in Calmas Point. Back then, watching the police boats pulling into the marina, head wondered what the h.e.l.l he was doing ferrying drunken fishermen all over the Sound. He finally asked himself Why not give it a shot? Took the Police Department exam the very next week, asked for a.s.signment to the Harbor Patrol the minute he got out of the Academy.

Back then, the Police Department was still calling itself the Isola PD, even though precincts were located in all five sections of the city. Eventually, Calmas Point, Majesta, Riverhead, and Bethtown rose up in protest, demanding equal rights or some such. The department, figuring it would cover all the bases and not cause any more riots than were absolutely necessary, began calling itself aMunic.i.p.al PD,a and then aMetro PD,a and then aMPDa for short. Some of the older hands, howevera"McIntosh includeda"felt they had changed the name only because the acronym aIPDa for Isola Police Department was being translated by the ordinary citizenry to mean aI Peed,a a not entirely flattering descriptive image for stalwarts of the law rus.h.i.+ng to the rescue.

There was nothing suspicious about the twenty-seven footer moving slowly toward the Hamilton Bridge, except that she was cruising along with just her running lights on. No lights in the cabin or anywhere else on the boat. Well, that wasnattoo unusual, McIntosh supposed, but even so, in these difficult times he didnat want to be blamed later on if some crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.d ran a boat full of explosives into one of the bridgeas pylons. So he hit a switch on the dash, and a red light began blinking and rotating on the prow of the launch, and he signaled to Officer Betty Knowles to throw a light onto the smaller boat ahead.

Aboard the Rinker, Avery Hanes whispered, aLet me handle this.a Well, h.e.l.l, he was the smart one.

aWHY DO Ihave to be black?a Jonah was asking her.

Tamar didnat know what to answer the poor man.

Because the good Lord intended you to be that way?

She hated deep philosophical questions.

Like when a reporter fromBillboard magazine asked her what she thought of Mick Jagger, and shead had to admit she didnat know who Mick Jagger was. When the reporter explained that he was a seminal rock singer, she didnat mention that she didnat know what aseminala meant. Instead, she told them she didnat consider herself a rock singer, and besides she was very young. So, of course they asked what kind of singer she considered herself to be, and shead had to admit she thought of her kind of music as mainstream pop. But a question like Jonahas absolutely floored her. Shead never suspected till this very moment that he was so deep.

What she was hoping was that n.o.body would be disappointed because she and Jonah wouldnat be duplicating all the bells and whistles on the video, but of course how could they do that on a little boat in the middle of the river? Tonight, shead be lip-synching, which was okay because everyone in the crowd was very hip, she guessed, and surely n.o.body expected her to reallyperform the entire video, did they? s.h.i.+t, it had cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to shoot the thing with all the special effects and everything, so how could anyone expect aduplication of all that on this d.i.n.ky little boat here, even though Barney kept calling it a alaunch.a She certainly hoped n.o.body had such wild expectations in mind, which was a good t.i.tle for a song and maybe for her next alb.u.m, aWild Expectations.a She certainly hoped they would appreciate her just lip-synching while she dry-humped Jonah.

Jonah was as gay as a bowl of daisies.

This was okay because he only came across that way when you were talking to him. Lisping and all, and sort of limp-wristed, a total caricature of a f.a.g.

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