[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

track as Jack floored the accelerator.
 Faster! cried Mary as the Gingerbreadman started to gain, his long strides
swiftly eating up the distance between them. He fired at them as he ran, a
slug the size of a king-size marble passing through the windshield between
them and vanishing through the rear seats with a scattering of velour and
kapok stuffing.
The Gingerbreadman cursed again and reloaded as he ran, the Allegro s
overrevving engine howling in protest. As he took aim for the third time, they
hit the logging track, and before Jack could even think about braking, they
had crossed the road and slammed straight into a large beech tree, the sudden
stop knocking the wind out of them both and entirely demolishing the rear of
the car. The trunk was pushed into the area where the rear seats had been, and
the two swing axles were twisted outward, causing the two rear wheels to bend
to an impossible angle. The rear window burst, and a steel ripple rode through
the roof, ultimately relieving the stress by popping out the front windshield
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and deforming the two front fenders. But both the seats held in the reverse
impact, and neither of them was hurt.
Jack and Mary were not the only ones to be caught unawares. The
Gingerbreadman, unused to running fast during his twenty-year incarceration,
had forgotten the rules governing the inertia of moving bodies. He attempted
to stop but skittered on the gravel track and ran straight into the car,
tripped on the front bumper, bounced off the roof and hit the tree with
sufficient impact to knock the heavy game rifle out of his hand and send it
tumbling end over end into the undergrowth.
The Gingerbreadman was only slightly stunned. He sat up on the forest floor
and rubbed the back of his neck.
 Wow! he murmured to himself, then chuckled, shook his head and looked
around to see what had become of the sporting rifle. At the same time, not
more than ten feet away on the other side of the tree, Jack and Mary
cautiously pushed open the twisted doors of the Allegro and looked around
warily to see what had become of the Gingerbreadman. They all quickly noticed
one another.
 Inspector Spratt! said the Gingerbreadman cordially.  We meet again! And
youstill not even attached to this inquiry. Briggs and Copperfieldwill have
something to say!
He got to his feet and started to look around for the Holland & Holland more
seriously, talking as he did so.  I do so wish you were on the hunt for me,
he said with a grin.  I really don t think that Copperfield chap is up to it.
Jack rolled out of the car and grabbed a stout branch, swung it above his
head and swiped the Gingerbreadman on the back of the head. The blow bounced
off his cakey body without effect. The Gingerbreadman turned to him, oblivious
to the impact.
 If he thinks a massive display of firepower will bring me down, he s badly
mistaken. This is the second time you ve found me, Jack. People will think you
have a hidden agenda.
 Why shoot the Bruins? demanded Jack, giving up on the branch and joining in
the hunt for the Holland & Holland. Mary was putting out a call to the station
to upgrade her backup toarmed backup.
 I needed a place to hole up, Jack, replied the Gingerbreadman in a deep,
doughlike voice, his cherry eyes flicking this way and that as he searched the
undergrowth for the gun.  You may not have noticed, but I m public enemy
number one at the moment.
 It hadn t escaped my attention, replied Jack,  but why here and now? And
blaming the attack on hunters. Since when were youever ashamed of taking the
credit for some utterly mindless display of violence?
 You ask a lot of questions for a very puny and insignificant human, don t
you? said the Gingerbreadman as he stopped the search for the gun and stared
at Jack with just the kind of look you wouldn t want from a psychopath.
 It s my job, replied Jack, sensing that if he didn t find the gun and gain
the high ground, he might be pushing up daisies quite soon.
 Who needs a gun anyway? asked the Gingerbreadman, catching Jack by the
wrist. He tried to pull away but was held fast in the big cookie s iron grip.
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The Gingerbreadman smiled cruelly as he placed his other hand on Jack s body,
meaning to pull his arm off, just as you might twist the leg off a roast
chicken on the dinner table. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]