Hot Wheels - Arden William - Страница 16

“Jupe!” It was Ty. “Two guys just quit the car wash. They shoved rags in Pete’s hand, told him to start drying and shining!”

“What about Tiburon and the Piranhas?”

“Not here yet. I’ll stay and watch for them. How’d you do?”

“I didn’t,” Jupiter said gloomily. He told Ty about Max the gunman.

Ty snorted at the other end. “I don’t believe him. That guy just wants some money in his hand. Pick me up, we’ll both go back.”

“You mean he wants a bribe?”

“Sure, guys like that always expect a little ‘tip’ to give you a space. The guy who greases their palm the most gets the best spot. I’ll be right there.”

Jupe jumped back into his new Honda and drove quickly to the Taco Bell next to the car wash. Ty came out.

“Shouldn’t you stay and watch?” Jupe asked.

“Nothing’s happening, and this won’t take long.”

“All right, but you drive,” Jupiter said. “I’ll hide in back. When you leave, I’ll stay behind. Let’s go.”

Ty drove off with Jupiter on the floor in back and Jupe’s money in his pocket. He’d gone five blocks when he swore.

“It’s the cops again. A blue Aries this time, but I can spot them anywhere.” Jupiter heard him laugh. Then he began to talk to the police car. “Okay, boys, if that’s the way you want it. Hang on, Jupe.”

The car seemed to shoot off like a rocket. Jupiter clung to the bottom of the backseat. Ty drove like a cannonball. The car made screeching turns that flung Jupiter like a sack around on the floor of the hatch-back. But he wasn’t worried about himself.

“My car!” Jupiter wailed. “You’ll wreck it!”

Ty laughed. “Nah. It’s a tough little baby!”

Bruised and battered, Jupe listened to the little car creak and groan in violent turns and wild speed-ups. It bounced and rattled over bone-jarring bumps and ruts as if Ty were driving over plowed fields and railroad ties. Then it slowed down and stopped bouncing.

Ty laughed again. “Lost ’em. You okay?”

“I think so.” Jupiter groaned. “Is the car okay?”

“Perfect.” Ty chuckled. “We’re almost at the garage. Stay way down.”

Jupiter lay rigid as the car came to a stop. Ty honked.

Max the gunman came out again. “Yeah?”

“Need parking for a week,” Ty said.

“No openings.”

“You look like a guy knows how to be treated right. What’s the week in advance?”

There was a silence. Then, “Fifty bucks.”

“Hey, that’s only half what I figured. Let’s say a hundred. Got it right here. Cash.”

There was a silence, then Max spoke.

“I guess we can squeeze you in.”

The doors opened, and the Honda drove into the dim garage. It parked in a row toward the back.

“Okay, you’re in,” Ty said.

Jupiter groaned. “That hundred was all we had in the treasury.”

“It was the only way, Jupe. I’ll hitch back to the car wash and see what I can do to help Pete. Be back for you around five.”

Then Jupiter was alone in the gloom of the silent garage.

13

The Big Payoff!

At the car wash, Pete dried and polished each car as it emerged from the automatic wash. He and the other hand finishers carried rags and bottles of window cleaner. They worked in teams.

As Pete worked, his eyes were constantly alert for any signs of Joe Torres or Tiburon and the Piranhas. The afternoon passed. He saw nothing but dripping cars rolling out of the automatic wash line — and Ty sipping Cokes and eating burritos at the Taco Bell next door.

Pete went on working.

Ty went on waiting.

*

In the gloom of the parking garage, Jupiter raised himself up to look out the window. The parked cars stood silently under the dim lights.

He became aware of the sounds of mechanics working on the second floor. He could even hear faint sounds coming from the third floor — air compressors humming and hammering to supply the power to paint the cars.

He strained to listen for other sounds. The orange Cadillac had vanished somewhere inside this building. And Joe Torres and the gunman had come from somewhere in the black Buick.

But where?

*

At four o’clock, Ty looked at his watch. Nothing had happened at the car wash. All he’d seen was a steady stream of cars that Pete and his fellow hand finishers swarmed over like ants on a log full of honey.

There had been no sign of Tiburon and the Piranhas or their girlfriends. Joe Torres had not appeared. It was almost time to go and pick up the Honda and Jupiter.

Soon they would all have to quit for the day.

*

Twice Jupiter had to duck down as Max the gunman passed on his patrol of the floor. Jupe’s watch read four thirty when he slipped out of the little Honda. He crept through the dimness of the garage interior toward the automobile elevator.

He listened intently as he moved, in case Max returned. He had seen no one else. No cars had driven in, stolen or otherwise.

Now he circled the entire floor to see if there was anything he and Pete had somehow overlooked the first time. He even opened the half-glass doors of the offices. All were being used as storerooms, or were unfurnished and abandoned.

He ended his search at the car elevator with its slatted wooden gates. The platform was down on the ground floor. The wide shaft above was as dimly lit as the floor itself. Two rectangles of light showed where it opened onto each upper floor.

The footsteps caught him by surprise!

Max the gunman was walking down the ramp.

*

Tiburon and the Piranhas arrived at the car wash in their lowriders. They looked like a western outlaw gang riding into their hideout after a raid. It was five o’clock, closing time at the car wash. Pete was being paid as Tiburon strode into the owner’s office.

“Thanks, sir,” Pete said loud enough for anyone to hear. “I sure need the money. My dad’s out of work, so if you hear of anyone who needs a good mechanic, I’d appreciate knowing about it.”

“Sure, Crenshaw,” the owner said. “You do a good job. I’ll keep my ears open for you.”

“I’m a really good mechanic,” Pete emphasized. “I’ll do anything to make some money.”

When he saw that Tiburon was looking at him, Pete left. He didn’t want to lay it on too thick and make the bandleader suspicious. Outside, he walked two blocks to his Fiero.

As he passed the Taco Bell he saw that Ty had gone.

*

Jupiter held his breath as the footsteps of Max the gunman came steadily closer. There had been no time to get back to his Honda, and barely enough time to dive beside the first car facing the elevator.

Now Max walked along the clear lane between the elevator and the first row of cars. All he had to do was glance left and down and he couldn’t miss Jupiter. In a matter of seconds he would look straight down the aisle where Jupiter crouched.

The leader of the Investigators lay flat on the dirty, greasy, oil-splattered concrete floor and rolled under the car. He watched Max’s legs walk past only a few feet from his head. The gunman paused, as if he were looking along the now empty aisle.

Jupiter breathed slowly and wiped the sweat and oil off his brow. It seemed like Max would never move on. His legs were so close that Jupiter could have touched them.

Then the small outside door opened, letting in a long shaft of late-afternoon sunlight.

“Yeah?” Max challenged instantly.

Ty’s voice loudly answered, “Hi. Just came to get my car.”

“Let’s see your ticket.”

“Right here,” Ty called out.

The legs disappeared. Jupiter waited a long minute, then rolled out on the other side of the car and peered over it. The gunman walked toward the front door, where Ty stood in the shaft of sunlight.

Jupiter stood and waved, then dropped low again to work his way through the silent rows to his car. He hoped Ty had seen him and would hold the gunman long enough for Jupe to reach the Honda.