Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Триллер, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Gator A-GO-GO: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Gator A-GO-GO»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

That's right: Serge and Coleman do spring break!
It's been a long time coming, but they're at the party now – and you'll never look at a Frisbee the same way again.
One spring break location obviously isn't enough for Serge, so he must hit them all, traveling through various historic locales, spewing nuggets of history at anyone who won't run away and dispensing his own signature brand of Sunshine State justice.
Along the way he and his sidekick, Coleman, attract a growing following of the nation's top college students… and a mysterious gang that leaves a trail of young bodies in their wake.
Are the kids safer under Serge's protection? Or does being with him put them in more peril? The classroom and the pot brownies never prepared them for this.
Which raises more questions: Who's the guy studying satellite photos? Where did the protected witness go? When did Coleman get all those trophies? Why are the Feds hot on everyone's trail? How did the burnt corpse end up by the pool? What's the best way to keep beer cool on the beach?
Then there are the coke smugglers gone legit and a pair of the most dangerously sexy bartenders to ever mix a rum runner. Throw in some dirty dancing contests, illicit drugs, rockin' tunes, screamin' sports cars, bungee rides, pawned class rings, and church breakfasts, and you've got a potent concoction that keeps the hotel's concierge up all night stopping people from falling off the balconies.
Want even more? Serge says, "You got it!"
After years of quiet, a legendary Miami kingpin from the anything-goes eighties is suddenly back in the news… along with one of the state's most psychotic homicidal monsters, every bit as criminally insane as Serge – except without the morals.
The mysteries continue to mount: How did Coleman end up with even more disciples than Serge? Can kids successfully climb fences while carrying pizzas? Will Serge survive the carnage, armed with a GPS and a kiddie pool?
All will soon be answered – and of course every last moment is caught on tape as Serge creates his most excellent documentary ever, the making of Gator A-Go-Go.
Pack the cooler, load the car, and head to where the water is warm for a spring vacation you won't soon forget – no matter how much you might try!

Gator A-GO-GO — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Gator A-GO-GO», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

MIAMI

Transcontinental flights continued thundering over a bar next to Okeechobee Boulevard.

Miguel got deeper into the tequila.

TV still on CNN.

The bartender started changing the channel to Marlins spring training.

“Stop!” shouted Guillermo. “Keep it on this.”

The bartender withdrew his arm and went back to his own drink.

Guillermo leaned for a better look at the screen, now into the next segment from the cable channel’s Boston affiliate.

… I don’t feel like a hero…

Below the interviewee’s face: HERO P ATRICK M CK ENNA.

“So that’s what he goes by now.”

“Who?” asked Raul.

“You’re too young to remember,” said Guillermo. “Son of a bitch looks exactly the same.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Quiet.” He flipped open his cell and dialed. “… Madre?… It’s me, Guillermo… No, there aren’t any complications from our business meeting… You’re not going to believe this. Sitting down?… Because I just found an old friend.”

HIGHWAY 98

A ’73 Challenger blazed north on the desolate stretch with scarce traffic lights. Otter Creek, Chiefland, Fanning Springs, Perry, through forested hunting country-Woody’s Famous Cajun Boiled Peanuts- and west into the Panhandle.

Coleman burnt his fingertips on the nub of a joint. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost. Just have to make one more stop at a police station.”

“Police station?” The roach went out the window. “Are you nuts?”

“Don’t worry-it’s not open anymore.” Serge crossed his fingers. “If it’s there at all.”

Another reduced-speed zone in Carrabelle. Serge scanned the side of the road. “There it is!” He parked at the curb and handed Coleman his video camera. “Film this.”

“A phone booth?”

“Not just any phone booth. The world’s smallest police station. I’m getting inside-shoot me through the glass… Help! Help! I’m innocent! It was the one-armed man! … That’s enough.”

Through Apalachicola and Port St. Joe, past a roadside display with replaceable numbers:

ONLY 89 D AYS L EFT T ILL H URRICANE S EASON.

A series of bone-rattling roars over the car.

Coleman looked at the ceiling. “What the hell was that?”

“The sign we’re almost there.” Serge pointed through the windshield at a cluster of tiny specks disappearing out over the gulf. “Fighter jets from Tyndall Air Force Base.”

They caught the first whiff of spring break in Mexico Beach. Students in front of a convenience store, cracking open Budweiser twenty-four-packs and draining melted cooler water on the ground.

“Regular unleaded is going back up again? This seriously cramps my lifestyle,“ said Serge.”Remember when gas was four dollars a gallon?”

“No.”

“They made a windfall, then deliberately pulled back before we mustered sufficient motivation to wean ourselves off the black heroin. I predicted at the time they’d ratchet it back up again and here we are. Ever see those oil assholes testify before Congress?”

“Is that where, like, on TV nothing’s moving?”

“I’d love to get my hands on just one of them for some private testimony.”

Finally, they were there. Stuck in traffic. Kids on the sidewalk moving faster than cars. Small planes flew over the beach, pulling banners for drink specials and the Geico cavemen.

Coleman grunted as he struggled to open Gertrude’s prescription bottle again.

“Having problems?”

He passed the vial to Serge. “It’s childproof.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Coleman popped a tablet in his mouth like a peanut. “Which one’s our hotel?”

“Right up there. The Alligator Arms.”

BIRD CREEK

A dozen police cars parked every which way on a tiny bridge in Levy County.

A corporal looked over the side. “Isn’t this where they shot that Elvis movie?”

The detectives arrived.

“Where’d you find him?” asked the lead investigator.

The corporal pointed. “Top half above the navel washed up in those reeds…” He turned. “Tide took the rest downstream.”

“What’s with those people?”

They looked toward a Buick with Mississippi plates and a damaged grille, where another officer consoled a retired couple on vacation.

“Pretty shaken up,” said the corporal. “Claim the rope just came out of nowhere.”

“Rope?” said the detective.

“Wrapped across the front of their car, and they pulled it to the end of the bridge until it finally snapped and the Buick spun out.”

“Is it connected to the homicide?”

“Our forensic guy’s still working on it.”

“Where is he?”

“Under the bridge.”

The detective examined a frayed piece of fishing line tied to the railing. “What the hell are we dealing with?”

The forensic tech climbed up the bank in rubber boots. “Think I got it solved.”

They waited.

Boots squished across the bridge. “Rope was wrapped around his stomach and held in place with a D-clamp so it wouldn’t slip.”

“You saying rope cut him in half? How’s that strong enough?”

“More than enough,” said the tech. “Human body’s some of the most fragile material on the planet. This was like wrapping a string around a banana and pulling the ends. Banana slices right in two.”

“That’s disgusting,” said the detective.

The corporal looked back at the Buick. “But what’s with those people saying the rope came out of nowhere?”

“That was the trigger,” said the tech.

“Trigger?” asked the detective.

The tech nodded. “This is where it gets… fancy.” He swept an arm behind him. “Whoever’s responsible wired the bridge like a giant guitar.”

The corporal nodded. “Death by Elvis.”

“This isn’t for your amusement,” said the detective.

“Sorry.”

The tech pointed down. “Killer looped the rope in a complete circle over the bridge’s railings and down to the victim, with the extra coils I mentioned around his stomach. But he left enough slack so the part across the top of the bridge just lay unobtrusively on the ground where a driver wouldn’t notice it or give a second thought. That’s how it came out of nowhere.”

“How did it come out of nowhere?”

“This is a pretty remote road,” said the tech. “Dead end. Almost no traffic, but a car passes by every now and again. That’s where the fishing lines come in, tied to the crab traps the victim was forced to stand on under the bridge.”

“That’s weird.”

“Gets weirder. The assailant was thorough, didn’t know which direction the next car would come from, so, twenty yards on each side of the big rope, he stretched clear, hundred-pound-test monofilament lines across the bridge at radiator level, invisible to motorists.”

“Starting to sound like the roadrunner and coyote show.”

“Fitting analogy,” said the tech. “The thick nylon rope would remain flat on the road as long as the victim stayed on top of the traps. Then a car comes along, hits the fishing line he doesn’t see, jerking the traps out from under the deceased, dropping him in the water, pulling the rope tight around his waist, which suddenly jerks the rest of the rope up off the roadway-again, to radiator level-just as the car reaches it and… two halves of a banana.”

“Holy Jesus,” said the detective.

“What are those things in your hand?” asked the corporal.

The tech looked down at gerbil dispensers. “Haven’t figured that part yet.”

The detective stared across the marsh. “What kind of monster is out there?”

Chapter Nine

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Gator A-GO-GO»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Gator A-GO-GO» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Henryk Sienkiewicz - Krzyżacy, tom drugi
Henryk Sienkiewicz
libcat.ru: книга без обложки
Henryk Sienkiewicz
libcat.ru: книга без обложки
Henryk Sienkiewicz
Tim Dorsey - When elves attack
Tim Dorsey
Tim Dorsey - Pineapple grenade
Tim Dorsey
Bolesław Prus - Lalka, tom drugi
Bolesław Prus
Bolesław Prus - Faraon, tom drugi
Bolesław Prus
Władysław Stanisław Reymont - Ziemia obiecana, tom drugi
Władysław Stanisław Reymont
Józef Kraszewski - Strzemieńczyk, tom drugi
Józef Kraszewski
Eliza Orzeszkowa - Nad Niemnem, tom drugi
Eliza Orzeszkowa
Отзывы о книге «Gator A-GO-GO»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Gator A-GO-GO» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x