Stardust

Chapter 11

THE gym was better than the Harbor Health Club, except Henry Cimoli wasn’t there. It had a full Nautilus setup, a complete set of York barbells, some parallel bars, some rings, a treadmill, a stair climber, jump ropes, a heavy bag, a speed bag. There was a lap pool off the gym part, and a sauna and steam and massage setup between the two. The walls of the gym were mirrored. The floor was done in some sort of resilient rubber padding. There were fluorescent Iights recessed in a textured ceiling, and there were skylights through which the bright blue sky glistened.

”Zowie,“ I said.

”Randall,“ Rojack said, ”perhaps you’d like to show Spenser how some of the equipment works.“

”I know how it works,“ I said.

Nobody paid any attention. Randall shucked off his warm-up jacket and stepped out of his canvas shoes. His bare feet were white and bony with long toes and a tuft of hair an each instep. There were many distended veins in his pale arms, and the knobby muscles knotted and slacked as he moved.

He jumped off the ground, caught the rings that hung straight down from the ceiling, and proceeded to do a series of gymnastic loops and frolics on them that were pretty impressive for a guy who looked to be about six feet four. He dismounted with a somersault and launched an all-out karate attack on the heavy bag, spinning in midair to kick it, whirling balletically to drive home an elbow or a sharp-knuckled fist. His movements were sometimes too quick to follow and the heavy bag pitched and shivered as he hit it, kicked it, slashed it, and butted it, all at what appeared to be the speed of sound. For the coup de grace he leaped into the air, scissor-kicked the bag with both feet and went into a backward somersault as he landed on his back, rolling to his feet in one continuous motion. He was breathing hard and his pale angular body was glistening with sweat as he stood erect, almost at attention, still wearing his rimless glasses, his flat blue eyes fixed on me. Rojack looked at him like the father of an Eagle Scout.

”That kind of thing happen to you often?“ I said.

Rojack said, ”We both felt it important that you understand about Randall, that you recognize clearly that this morning was merely a very lucky misjudgment on Randall’s part… lucky, that is, for you.“

Randall was so thrilled by his performance that his face was fluorescent with excitement.

”Is he going to do anything else?“ I said. ”Juggle four steak knives while whistling ’Malaguena‘? Something like that?“

Randall’s breath was still coming a little short. ”You like to… show us… what you… can do on the bag?“

I looked at Rojack.

”Be my guest,“ he said. I think the sound in his voice was mockery.

”Go ahead… big shot,“ Randall said.

I shrugged, reached under my left shoulder, pulled my gun and put a bullet into the middle of the body bag. The sound of the shot was shockingly loud in the silent gym. The body bag jumped. I put the gun back under my arm, smiled in a friendly way at Rojack and Randall, and walked out. As I headed through the house to the front door, the smell of the pistol shot lingered gently after me.