Day 38, Chapter 38
Sometimes I like to picture the imagery JPatt provides as actual reality – it makes the descriptions all the more hilarious and absurd. Today’s chapter is perfect for this purpose. Witness:
I swear Conklin got the car up to three G’s in three seconds.
That’s pretty fast – I wonder if that was really how fast they were going? John Stapp, acceleration pioneer from the 50’s, once survived a peak g-force of 46.2 times the force of gravity, which pretty much tore his eyeballs out. So maybe 3g’s in 3 seconds isn’t so bad.
When I wasn’t mentally trying to steer the car from the passenger seat, I thought about the Lipstick Killer. He wasn’t just insane.
He was crazy.
While Lindsay weighs the linguistic differences between “insane and “crazy”, Conklin drives the squad car into a crowded intersection. Lindsay breaks away from her reverie, wanting to “get out and beat on car roofs until the road (is) clear” but resorts to using the in-car bullhorn with her best cop voice: “Move your vehicles. Pull over now!”
We started and stopped as cars stalled trying to climb over one another, the seconds dragging until we cleared the jam.
Cars were climbing over each other, panicking, ignoring the commands of their human masters. Conklin finally makes it to the crime scene. Lindsay makes “a path through the crowd” of freaked out mall shoppers “with (her) badge” – presumably like a shovel or a plow. Officer Joe Sorbero fills her in:
“Deja vu all over again,” Joe said.
I braced myself for what Jacobi had described as a “horror show.” We found him talking with Chief Anthony Tracchio on the third-floor landing. The chief’s face was blanched, and Jacobi’s hooded eyes were drawn almost closed, both men looking as though they’d peered over the abyss into the devil’s own lair.
Finally we get a bit of vivid imagery I can relate to! This whole book, this project, is like looking over the abyss into the devil’s own lair. And he lives in Florida in a 20,000 sq.ft. mansion.
“Were there any witnesses?” I asked. It was more a small, doomed wish than a question.
“No,” Jacobi said. “No one saw or heard a fucking thing.”
Didn’t you mean “frickin'”?
Go to Day 39.