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Billy Summers(178)

Author:Stephen King

There was silence for maybe thirty seconds. I was getting that hinky feeling again. ‘Come on,’ I said, taking her arm. ‘Fuck this shit, we’re taillights.’

But then the gate started to roll open on little rubber wheels. The voice from the intercom said, ‘It’s eight-tenths of a mile, Mr Byrne. I will have your money.’

Alice got in on her side and I got in on mine. She was shaking.

I rolled up the window before telling her, just above a whisper, that I was sorry about that.

‘I don’t care if they saw my underpants, I just thought they were going to make me open my purse and he’d see the gun on his damn camera.’

‘You’re a kid,’ I said. I looked in the rearview and saw the gate trundling closed behind us. ‘I don’t think the idea that you were carrying ever crossed his mind.’

‘Then I thought he wouldn’t let us in at all. I thought that man would say “You’re no sixteen-year-old, get out of here and stop wasting our time.”’

Now there were old-fashioned lamps lining both sides of the road. Ahead I could see the lights of the house the old man had named Eos, after the rosy-fingered goddess of the dawn.

‘You better give me the gun,’ I said.

She shook her head. ‘I want it. You’ve still got the spray.’

There was no time to argue about it. The house – the manor – was in sight. It was a rambling stone structure on at least two acres of lawn. A rich man’s playpen for sure, but with a grace none of the places Nick liked could match. There was a turnaround in front. I pulled up at stone steps leading to a circular entry. Alice reached for the doorhandle.

‘Don’t. Let me come around and open it for you, like a real gent.’

I went around the hood of the Mitsubishi, opened the door, and took her hand. It was very cold. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pressed together.

I murmured in her ear as I helped her out. ‘Walk behind me and stop at the foot of those steps. This is going to happen fast.’

‘I’m pretty scared.’

‘Don’t be afraid to show it. He’ll probably like that.’

We walked to the steps. There were four. She stopped at the bottom. The outside light came on and I could see her shadow jump long, hands still clasping her purse. Holding it in front of her as if it could shield her from what was going to happen in the next three hundred seconds or so. The big front door opened, casting an oblong of inside light around me. The man standing there was tall and well-built. With the light behind him I couldn’t judge his age or even make out his face, but I could see the holster on his hip. A small holster for a small gun.

‘What’s she doing down there?’ Petersen said. ‘Tell her to come up.’

‘Money first,’ I said. And over my shoulder, ‘Stay put, girl.’

Petersen reached into his front pocket – the one on the other side from the holster, which was undoubtedly lined with plastic for a fast, smooth draw should it be needed – and drew out a wad of bills. He handed it to me and said, ‘You don’t sound like a mick.’

I laughed and started to thumb through the bills. They were all hundreds. ‘Man, after forty years in Queens I hope not. Where’s the big man?’

‘None of your business. Send the girl up, park over there by the garage, and stay in the car.’

‘Yeah, sure, but now you made me lose my fuckin count.’

I started again. Behind me, Alice said, ‘Billy? I’m getting cold.’

Petersen stiffened slightly. ‘Billy? Why does she call you Billy?’

I laughed. ‘Ah, man, she does that all the time. It’s her boyfriend’s name.’ I gave him a grin. ‘He don’t know she’s here, get it?’

Petersen said nothing. He didn’t look convinced. His hand crept down toward the quick-draw holster.

‘This is good, man, pot’s right,’ I said.

I shoved the money into the pocket of the bomber jacket and brought out the aerosol. Maybe he saw it and maybe he didn’t, but he started to draw the little gun anyway. I made a fist with my free hand and brought it down on his, like a kid playing rock breaks scissors. Then I sprayed him. A white cloud of droplets hit him in the face. It was small, but the result was satisfactory. He rocked back and forth twice, then dropped. The gun fell on the stoop and went off with a report like a small firecracker. They are not supposed to do that, so he must have messed with it somehow. I felt the bullet go past my ankle and turned to make sure it hadn’t hit Alice.