enters this room, Felix Babineau disappears and Dr Z takes his place. Not today. Dr Z is just another version of Brady, after all – a projection – and today Brady is too busy to project.
His memories of trying to blow up the Mingo Auditorium during the ’Round Here concert are still jumbled, but one thing has been clear since he woke up: the face of the last person he saw before the lights went out. It was Barbara Robinson, the sister of Hodges’s nigger lawnboy. She was sitting almost directly across the aisle from Brady. Now she’s here, swimming with the fish they share on their two screens. Brady got Scapelli, the sadistic cunt who twisted his nipple. Now he will take care of the Robinson bitch. Her death will hurt her big brother, but that’s not the most important thing. It will put a dagger in the old detective’s heart. That’s the most important thing.
The most delicious thing.
He comforts her, tells her she’s not a horrible person. It helps to get her moving. Something is coming down MLK, he can’t be sure what it is because a down-deep part of her is still fighting him, but it’s big. Big enough to do the job.
‘Brady, listen to me. Z-Boy called.’ Z-Boy’s actual name is Brooks, but Brady refuses to call him that anymore. ‘He’s been watching, as you instructed. That cop … ex-cop, whatever he is—’
‘Shut up.’ Not raising his head, his hair tumbled across his brow. In the strong sunlight he looks closer to twenty than thirty.
Babineau, who is used to being heard and who still has not entirely grasped his new subordinate status, pays no attention. ‘Hodges was on Hilltop Court yesterday, first at the Ellerton house and then snooping around the one across the street where—’
‘I said shut up!’
‘Brooks saw him get on a Number 5 bus, which means he’s probably coming here! And if he’s coming here, he knows!’
Brady looks at him for just a moment, his eyes blazing, then returns his attention to the screen. If he slips now, allows this educated idiot to divert his concentration—
But he won’t allow it. He wants to hurt Hodges, he wants to hurt the nigger lawnboy, he owes them, and this is the way to do it. Nor is it just a matter of revenge. She’s the first test subject who was at the concert, and she’s not like the others, who were easier to control. But he is controlling her, all he needs is ten more seconds, and now he sees what’s coming for her. It’s a truck. A big black one.
Hey, honey, Brady Hartsfield thinks. Your ride is here.
8
Barbara stands on the curb, watching the truck approach, timing it, but just as she flexes her knees, hands grab her from behind.
‘Hey, girl, what’s up?’
She struggles, but the grip on her shoulders is strong and the truck passes by in a blare of Ghostface Killah. She whirls around, pulling free, and faces a skinny boy about her own age, wearing a Todhunter High letter jacket. He’s tall, maybe six and a half feet, so she has to look up. He has a tight cap of brown curls and a goatee. Around his neck is a thin gold chain. He’s smiling. His eyes are green and full of fun.
‘You good-lookin, that’s a fact as well as a compliment, but not from around here, correct? Not dressed like that, and hey, didn’t your mom ever tell you not to jaywalk the block?’
‘Leave me alone!’ She’s not scared; she’s furious.
He laughs. ‘And tough! I like a tough girl. Want a slice and a Coke?’
‘I don’t want anything from you!’
Her friend has left, probably disgusted with her. It’s not my fault, she thinks. It’s this boy’s fault. This lout.
Lout! A blackish word if ever there was one. She feels her face heat up and drops her gaze to the fish on the Zappit screen. They will comfort her, they always do. To think she almost threw the game console away after that man gave it to her! Before she found the fish! The fish always take her away, and sometimes they bring her friend. But she only gets a momentary look before the console vanishes. Poof! Gone! The lout has got it in his long-fingered hands and is staring down at the screen, fascinated.
‘Whoa, this is old-school!’
‘It’s mine!’ Barbara shouts. ‘Give it back!’
Across the street a woman laughs and yells in a whiskey voice, ‘Tell im, sister! Bring down that