Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon(99)

“Don’t touch that thing!” she shrieked.





    Michael froze. Rob winced and quickly raised his other hand. The cell phone switched to “Auld Lang Syne,” which I thought was an awfully tactless choice, under the circumstances. Apparently the fall had set off the feature that played all the tunes in the cell phone’s memory, so you could decide which one you liked. I hated them all - what’s wrong with a simple ring, anyway?





“Rob, why did you attack Michael?” I asked.





    Rob raised his head, recognized Michael, and dropped back with a groan.





“I really blew it, didn’t I?” he said.





“And Michael, what are you doing here?”





“I had a premonition that something bad was going to happen,” he said. “So when you hung up on me this morning, I told the director I was having a family emergency and could we finish the big magical duel scene as quickly as possible so I could wrap up for the week. And then I caught the first flight I could get out of L.A.”





“The white knight rides to the rescue,” Liz said with a sneer. “Some rescue.”





    The phone chose this moment to switch to “Scotland the Brave.” I pondered, momentarily, what would happen if you crossed a cell phone with an equally irritating Affirmation Bear and then stowed the idea away for future consideration.





“He tried to rescue us,” I said. “He nearly succeeded. Rob, what the hell were you doing here?”





“When you said Dad was with you, I remembered that he was going down to the office to check something out, and I wondered what the two of you were doing,” he said. “I figured you were detecting something. And then I saw someone sneaking up the fire escape and climbing through one of the back windows.”





“That would be me,” Michael said.





“Hey, at least I got that move right,” Rob said, cheerfully. “Did you see how well I did it?”





“Fantastic,” I said. Rob’s face fell. Maybe I sounded too sarcastic. Ironic - it would be just Rob’s luck that the one time in his life that he executed any kind of martial arts maneuver flawlessly it could very well cost him his life.





“I hate to break up the reunion  ,” Liz said. “But you need to tie them up. Tape them up. I have some other work for you.”





“I still don’t understand how you think you’re going to get away with this.” I said, stalling for time as I fiddled with the roll of duct tape and the phone began playing “Fur Elise.”





“Don’t worry about it,” Liz said, gesturing with the gun. “I only hope I brought enough ammo for everyone. It would be so inconvenient if I had to go home to get more in the middle of this.”





“You don’t think the police will be a little suspicious when they find eleven bodies here in the office?” I asked. “You don’t think maybe they’ll look around pretty carefully to see who could be responsible?”





“The twelfth body will take care of that,” she said.





“Twelfth body?” I repeated.





“Yes,” she said. “Mr. Mason, our disgruntled ex-employee. Sadly, the police will find out tomorrow that he has gone postal, captured many of his former colleagues along with the boss who fired him, tied - taped them all up, shot them, and then turned his gun on himself. If I have enough ammo. I suppose I could just burn the place down, but I’d really rather not. Are you finished there?”





    Alas, I was. Rob and Michael were taped up. As loosely as I could manage, but still, I didn’t think much of their chances of getting loose. Unless she was serious about going home for more ammo, and lived pretty far out of town.





“Come with me,” she said. She made a move to leave the library, and at that moment, the phone, now lying at her feet, broke into “Jingle Bells.”





“Aargh!” she growled, and stomped down on the phone. It took her half a dozen blows, but she finally damaged it enough that it gave up with a small, reproachful whir. Then she backed out of the library, gesturing for me to follow. I did, hands still in the air. She backed down the corridor, always keeping just out of reach, as I exited the library. Then she followed me down the corridor, barking orders when I was supposed to turn or stop or go through a door.





    This is a good thing, I told myself. If I get a chance to make a move now, there’s much less danger of hurting anyone else.