Repulse Monkey: 2
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Stated First Edition. A near fine copy in a fine dust jacket. Soiling to the edges of the book's upper page block. Review copy with publisher's folded, 8 1/2" x 11" letter laid in. Rubbing along the upper edges of the letter.
was sharply focused; an offer of a trade, a deal, backed up by a threat. ICE CREAM SUNDAE(Y) SHE IS NOTHING, DESSERT, VANILLA CREAM PIE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS TO LOSE A SON? DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING (SOMEONE) PRECIOUS YOU ARE AFRAID TO LOSE? I GIVE THE ORDERS. SERVE UP THE DESSERT BY SUNDAY! SERVE IT UP, THE PRETTY POISON, THE SCUM. NO MORE TROUBLE NOW. SUZANNE BY SUNDAY. OR ELSE!! Alex rerolled the note, taking care not to disturb the front side of the paper. He found his keys, unlocked
looked as if he or she had a nice home to go to, and under the fluorescent lighting showed off skin that was, conventionally speaking, white. As Alex and Suzanne stood by the edge, a security guard under an old-fashioned Smokey the Bear hat ambled by. He had a policeman’s swaggering gait, the one that came with the knowledge you wore a uniform, a badge, and something on your hip. On his was a walkie-talkie. Alex stayed put until the guard passed. He thought that, in sending him off to find
coats and blankets, some wore street clothes, and a few seemed to be wearing nothing at all. Everyone had stopped for shoes or slippers or boots, except perhaps for some children being carried by adults. It was hard to tell about the children’s feet, because the grown-ups had wrapped their coats protectively around the children’s legs. An excited babble rose as the guests milled and stamped their feet, waiting for flames to leap out of the roof or for someone to tell them they could go back
flight of stairs, then besides what happened to her shoulder, there ought to be bruises on her arms or her ribs. He hadn’t been looking for bruises when he took her sweater off. Of course, it sometimes took a day to get black and blue. Suzanne read the thought without much trouble. She said, “I’ve got a hell of a bump on the back of my head.” There was no need to answer. Alex reached out his right hand and felt her thick hair, still damp from the snow. It reminded him of when Meredith had
thoroughly for hidden microphones and wires. It was invasive, but it was professional, like Dr. Wagner’s laying-on of hands. Alex was glad he had nothing to hide. Then both men sat down on either side of the kitchen table and Paul Jakes took a last swallow of his beer. He set the bottle down on the dark synthetic surface flecked with silver, and put his hands over first his own deep eyes, then his long but not fleshy ears, then the wide mouth above his bony jaw. See no evil, hear no evil, speak