A Small Matter Read Online Free PDF Page B

beach.”
    “South? But I thought we were taking you to
see the Virgin Mary lady.”
    “C’mon, Mulroney,” she said. “The tumor’s
probably already spread. It’s past time to be working on the cure.
I’ve decided not to fight it. I want to enjoy what little time I
have left. That’s why you’re turning south. We’re going to spend
the day in Santa Monica.”
    “Santa Monica?” he said. “What for?”
    “What do you think? Santa Monica is the New
Beverly Hills. We’re going to spend my million dollars.”
    “On what?”
    “On Dalk.”
    “Explain, please.”
    “Dalk may be the master of the armed felon
building search,” she said, “but he’s a fool when it comes to
money. I have no intention of leaving him a million in cash. The
vultures would pick him clean in a year. And this is The City of
Angels. Before I die, I’m going to be his guardian angel and buy
Dalk a piece of heaven right here on earth.”

    Chapter 6

    “You got anything to drink?” Vickie said. “I
need something to settle my stomach.”
    “There’s a short dog of Schnapps in the glove
box,” Mulroney replied.
    They were moving slowly through the
Mulholland tunnel, located in the heart of the pass which provided
north-south access from the Valley to West Los Angeles and regions
south. The morning commuter traffic poured like a slow-falling
steel waterfall from the tunnel mouth down the side of the Santa
Monica National Park System, the world’s largest urban national
park, and the only park in the world with a mission to preserve the
city’s “air shed”, that is, to act as a natural filter for the
smoggy secretions which passed for air among the citizens.
    Vickie popped open the glove box. Alongside a
large-bore revolver, she found a pint bottle of Peppermint Schnapps
and something else--a prescription vial of tiny white nitro
pills.
    “What’s this?” she said.
    “You weren’t supposed to see those,” he said.
“Pass the Schnapps.” He took a sip and passed it back.
    “What’s wrong with you?” she said.
    “My heart,” he said. “It’s a big, nasty mess
from all those doughnuts and coffee. I can’t walk ten feet without
a pain. The ghouls want to open my chest, but I won’t let them. To
tell you the truth, I think my surgical risk is in the same
category as Ron Goldman’s impromptu surgery at the black-gloved
hands of Dr. O.J.”
    “My, we’re a pair,” she said. “We’re both
dodging the doctor’s silver bullet. I hope you don’t croak before
our wedding.”
    “Just for the record,” he said, “if God calls
for me in the next few days, tell Him I’m out.”
    “I want to buy the dress today,” she said,
“but I’m concerned about the fit. For some reason, the last few
days, my stomach’s starting to swell--Oh! Ooooooh!”
    At that very instant, the back pain, which
for weeks had reserved itself to a somewhat constant level of
burning pain, decided to escape its boundaries and expand
throughout her upper abdomen, as though an electric eagle were
raking a white hot talon through her guts.
    “Oh! Help me!” Vickie screamed.
    Mulroney swerved over to a stop. “It’s okay,”
he said. “Try to breathe. Just try to breathe.”
    An unearthly shriek from deep inside her
sought to shake the pain loose, but it dug in deeper, pushing her
limbs into an awkward dance of senseless writhing.
    “Mulroney!” she shrieked.
    The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun,
retreating to its base camp fire in her lower back. But it’s probe
to further regions of her body had proved successful, thoroughly
dehumanizing and demoralizing her, leaving in its wake the chill of
death blanketed over her still-twitching limbs.
    Mulroney whipped out his phone. “I’m calling
for help,” he said.
    “No,” she whispered.
    “You need help,” he said.
    “No, Mulroney. Don’t call anybody. I’m not
going back to the hospital. Take me into the mountains. Take me
back to the canyons. I want to see the waterfalls