I detain you with plastic handcuffs!”
Gesturing in the direction of the policeman, the confused Fern
just scoffed and smiled.
“What’s
this
guy’s problem?” he said.
“Listen up,” the first officer yelled a few minutes later to the room of
kneeling, handcuffed Ferns, “Which one of you is Dr. Futterman?”
Harvey raised his hand.
“Your Buick, eh?” the policeman said with some sympathy.
“I’m not proud.”
“You shouldn’t be. Especially since I just radioed into
headquarters and they told me that it’s a stolen car. Your name is on
the report as the probable suspect. If you’re going to break the law,
friend, you might as well break it well. Couldn’t you find a nicer
vehicle to rip off? For instance, a shopping cart.”
“Stolen? It’s
my
car!” Harvey protested.
“Oh yeah? Well, that’s not who it’s registered under.”
“Who—?” Harvey wondered weakly.
“Let’s see—” the officer said, consulting his notepad, “A Mr. Cain
Montgomery. Ever heard of him?”
“Hey!” protested Victoria, “He’s not saying anything until he
talks to his lawyer, so go shampoo your moustache and get off his
back!”
Victoria needn’t have spoken up, though, as Harvey wouldn’t
have answered any more of the officer’s questions anyway. He was
too busy weeping.
CHAPTER 23
Yeshua and the others were watching the monitor in the backstage
waiting room and munching on popcorn when Gareth came in
looking furious. Actually, Gareth always put on an angry face when
he conducted business, his rationale being that if you allowed people
to think you actually had a heart, they might lunge forward and jab
their dessert forks into it. On the other hand, if people thought you
breathed fire and shat railroad spikes, they would be more likely to
give you a wide berth. This accounted for the fact that so many big
businessmen and political dictators made such an effort to portray
themselves as perpetual nightmares on wheels, when in fact they
H O L Y S H I T !
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