Read The Frumious Bandersnatch for Free Online Page B

Hamilton Bridge spanning the river, a yacht coming under the bridge now, all aglow with lights itself, and moving steadily downstream. Patricia was drinking a crème de menthe on the rocks. Ollie was drinking a Courvoisier straight up.
    â€œMy ambition is to become first a detective…” Patricia was saying.
    â€œAh yes,” Ollie said.
    â€œâ€¦and next a detective on the Rape Squad.”
    â€œWhy the Rape Squad?”
    â€œBecause I think that’s the worst crime there is.”
    â€œI tend to agree,” Ollie said, although he didn’t know whether he actually agreed or not.
    Actually, he probably thought killing little girls was a worse crime. But when a woman who looked as beautiful as Patricia did in the moonlight reflected from the water told you she thought rape was the worst crime there was, then it seemed appropriate to agree with her, ah yes.
    â€œWhy is that?” Patricia asked.
    Not that she doubted him. But he’d seen so much, and knew so much…
    â€œBecause it isn’t fair,” Ollie said.
    â€œWho says it has to be fair?” Patricia asked, and smiled, and said, “My mother used to tell me that whenever I complained about anything. But you’re right. Rape isn’t fair. If men had to worry about rape all the time, the crime would carry the death penalty.”
    â€œDo you worry about rape all the time?”
    â€œNot since I became a cop. Not since they let me pack a gun.”
    â€œAre you packing now?” he asked.
    â€œAlways,” she said, and tapped her handbag with one painted fingernail. “Even when I go to bed, Josie is right there on the night table beside me. But before? When I was a kid…”
    â€œJosie?”
    â€œThe piece. I call her Josie. Doesn’t yours have a name?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLet’s name it.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause it’s a trusted friend.”
    Ollie wondered if the conversation was taking a sexual turn. He knew some guys who named their cocks. Women, too. Gave names to their boyfriends’ cocks. Louie. Or Harry. Or Pee Wee in some cases. He didn’t think that’s where Patricia was going here, but you never knew. He’d held her awfully close on the dance floor.
    â€œI wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think of it as a trusted friend.”
    â€œHave you ever had to use it?”
    â€œOh sure.”
    â€œEver kill a man?”
    He hesitated.
    â€œYes? No?”
    â€œA woman,” he said.
    Patricia looked at him.
    â€œShe was coming at me with a shotgun. Stoned out of her mind. I shot her once in the thigh, she kept coming. An inch closer, she’d have blown my head off. I dropped her.”
    â€œWow,” Patricia said.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThe same piece you carry now?”
    â€œNo. This was when I was a patrolman. It was a thirty-eight back then.”
    â€œWhat do you carry now?”
    â€œA Glock nine.”
    â€œMe, too.”
    â€œHeavy for a woman.”
    â€œRegulation.”
    â€œJosie, huh?”
    â€œIs what I call her.”
    â€œSo what should I call mine?”
    â€œYou think of a name.”
    â€œNah, come on.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    â€œI’m not good at this.”
    â€œHow do you know? Give it a try.”
    Ollie furrowed his brow.
    â€œWhat’s your best friend’s name?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t have a best friend,” he said.
    â€œWell…any friend,” she said.
    â€œI don’t have any friends,” Ollie said.
    Patricia looked at him again.
    â€œThen how about someone you really trust?”
    Ollie thought about this for several moments.
    Back inside the restaurant, the band began playing again.
    â€œSteve,” he said at last.
    â€œSo name it Steve.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” he said.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI don’t know. I guess it wouldn’t