Page 193 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Slow Burn

Well, I didn’t have five pairs of handcuffs, and they knew it. That
was Labelle trying to start something; maybe she thought Captain
Nimeau wouldn’t buy her analysis without some admission of guilt by
the quints. Assaulting us would definitely fall in that category.
Mistaking me for the real obstacle between them and the exit, all
five of them, as if by a prearranged signal, suddenly rushed me. I was
pinned against the door, my right hand groping for the gun inside my
jacket. With my other hand I tried to protect my face against their
blows—which just as abruptly ceased. I lowered my hand from my
eyes in time to see Labelle laying out the last of the Carbone
quintuplets like cordwood. They had left their backs open, and she
had chopped them down.
“You see, Duncan,” she said, as our backup unit came pounding
through the outer office. “Five fingers are all it takes.” She glanced at
Muldover, still frozen in his chair. “We can even read them their
rights with their lawyer in attendance. Very efficient, don’t you
think?”
Out of breath, I could neither quip nor quibble.

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