Shark Infested Custard Read Online Free PDF Page B

men's room. He might suspect something."
          
    A few minutes later we met in the men's room. I lit a cigarette, and Eddie and Hank both shook their heads. I wasn't surprised. I hadn't expected to find any man in a yellow jump suit. In fact, I suspected that Hank had made up the story. And yet, it was wise to get all three of them involved. I had realized, from the beginning, that I would have to be the one who would have to get rid of the girl's body, but it would be better, later on, for these guys to think that they had done everything possible before the inevitable dumping of the kid in a canal.
           "Okay," I said. "To make sure, let's start over. Only this time, you start with the first row, Eddie, and you, Hank, start with the back It won't hurt anything to double-check"
           "If you really think it's necessary," Hank said.
           "We've got to wait around anyway," I said.
           They took off again. It wasn't necessary, but I wanted to keep them busy. They didn't have my patience. These guys had never sat up all night for three nights in a row at a stake-out in a liquor store. But I had. I went around to the back of the snack bar, where it was darkest, and kept my eye on the box-office entrance, some hundred yards away. Two more cars, both with their parking lights on, came in. The first car turned at the second row and squeezed into an empty slot. The second car, a convertible, drove all the way to the back, and parked about three spaces to the right of Hank's car. If you came to see the movie, it was a poor location, so far from the screen, and angled away from it. A man got out of the car, and started toward the snack bar.
           I caught up with Hank, and pointed the man out as he came slowly in our direction, picking his way because his eyes weren't used to the darkness. "I think we've got him, Hank," I said. "Go straight up to him and ask for a match, and I'll circle around in back of him."
           "What if he's got a gun?" Hank said.
           "I've got a gun, too. Hurry up."
           When Hank stopped the man, I was behind him about ten yards or so. He gave Hank a light from his cigarette lighter; then he heard me and turned around. I clicked the hammer back on my .38 as he turned.
           "Let's go back to your car, friend," I said.
           "A stick-up in the drive-in? You guys must be out of your fuckin' minds," he said.
           "Stand away from him, Hank," I said. "If he doesn't move in about one second, I'll shoot his balls off."
           "I'm moving, I'm moving," the man said. He put his arms above his head and waggled his fingers.
           "Put your arms down, you bastard," I said. "Cross you arms across your chest."
           When he reached his car, a dark blue Starfire, with the top down, I told him to get into the passenger side of the front seat. Eddie, breathing audibly through his mouth, joined us a moment later.
           "Okay, Hank," I said, "the same as with the girl. You drive on ahead, get Don, and have the fire door open for us. Eddie'll drive this car, and I'll watch the sonofabitch from the back seat. Okay, friend, put one hand on top of the dash, and pass over your car keys with the other."
           "No dice," he said. "If you guys want my dough, go ahead and take it, but I ain't leavin' the drive-in—"
           He sat erect in the seat with his arms crossed, looking straight ahead. He was wearing a yellow jump suit, and from the cool way he was taking things I knew that he was the right man. I slapped the barrel of the pistol across his nose. His nose broke, and blood spurted. He squealed, and grabbed for his nose with his right hand.
           "Cross your arms," I said.
           He quickly recrossed his arms, but he turned his head and eyes to glare at me. "Now," I said, "slowly—with one hand, pass over your car keys to the driver." He kept his right forearm across his