Ask the Parrot
occasionally secret grasp Donald E. Westlake is the writer of uproarious crime capers. occasionally he has a median streak-and its identify is Parker. From his noir vintage The guy with the Getaway Face to his contemporary novel Nobody Runs Forever, each time Westlake writes as Stark, he we could Parker run loose-a ruthless felony in a global of weak "straights."
On a sunny October afternoon a guy is working up a hill. he is not dressed for operating. less than him are barking police canines and ready up forward is a stranger-with a rifle, a existence packed with regrets, and a parrot at domestic who will mutely witness simply how a lot hassle the runner, Parker, can deliver into a regular life.
The rabbit hunter is Tom Lindahl, a small-town lonely center nursing a big-time grudge opposed to the racetrack that fired him. He is familiar with from the instant he sees Parker that he is met a qualified thief-and a guy with homicide in his blood. Rescuing Parker from the chase hounds, Lindahl invitations the fugitive into his secluded domestic. He plans to tear off his former organization and detailed a dangerous degree of revenge-if he can get Parker to help.
But Tom does not comprehend Parker and that the determined felony will do whatever to survive-no subject who has to die...
And out an analogous method, force the truck out, come again in, lock up, swap the alarm on, stroll round and up the steps and out. anything you need to see?” Parker pointed on the steel bins at the pallet. “They locked?” “No need.” “Open one.” “Sure.” The lids have been lengthy flat steel items, accordion-hinged to the lengthy facets of the bins. Lindahl went to at least one knee in entrance of the pallet and lifted open the 2 elements of the lid, which was once it seems that beautiful heavy. within, cashier drawer.
Let’s move placed these cash bins into your van.” “All right.” Parker placed the pistol in his jacket pocket ahead of they left. He needed to force back, simply because Lindahl used to be feeling the results of 4 hours’ sleep. The seven steel bins of their sheathe of black plastic stuffed the rear seat so excessive Parker may possibly purely use the surface mirrors. the 1st police blockade they got here to was once manned via an analogous bitter older trooper as the previous day. “I observed you before,” he acknowledged as Parker passed over his new.
within the ribs while he began to doze off in entrance of the goddam tv set. the place was once Suzanne? How some distance might she have long gone looking for gasoline and meals? There hadn’t been an twist of fate, had there? If in basic terms he’d been looking the window while she drove off, so now he’d have a few kind of inspiration the place she may be. At Brian Hopwood’s station? It was once after six, and he knew Brian was once lengthy closed by means of now, yet he attempted calling the gasoline station quantity, besides, simply in case, and, after all, it rang and.
remoted position like this, to grasp that little protecting machine was once there. He’d by no means truly fired the gun; he’d purely received it for the feel of protection it gave him, yet that feel of safety used to be real—it helped him to sleep soundly each night—and so the ritual used to be there, at bedtime, to appear in for only a moment on the gun. Like a puppy you’re announcing sturdy evening to. And final evening it was once long gone. That used to be a true stomach-churner of a second. He’d been half-seated at the mattress, commencing the drawer, and.
police officers on me, pass forward, yet I simply gotta get out of here.” The protect thought of him. “We’ll visit the office,” he made up our minds. “If that’s at the approach out,” Parker acknowledged, “fine.” “You lead the way.” “Sure. yet you’ll need to inform me which manner I’m leading.” The guard’s correct hand went from the revolver butt to the doorknob in the back of him. beginning the door, stepping to 1 aspect, he acknowledged, “Just exit and down the hall.” “Sure.” As Parker glided by him, the shield frowned on the door he used to be preserving. “Was.