All of it was so crazy it was reassuring. He bent over the handlebars of his motorcycle and began laughing as though he had gone crazy himself.
“Haw haw haw.” He laughed, and then began talking to himself. “Whatever it is I is dreaming, one thing is for sure-ain’t none of it true.”
Chapter 3
The switchboard in the precinct station was jammed.
The switchboard sergeant relayed the reports to Desk Lieutenant Anderson in a bored, monotonous voice: “There’s a woman who lives across the street from the convent says murder and rape taking place in the street…”
Lieutenant Anderson yawned. “Every time a man beats his wife some busybody calls in and says she’s being raped and murdered-the wife, I mean. And God knows some of them could use a little of it-the busybodies, I mean.”
“…another woman from the same vicinity. Says someone is torturing a dog…”
“Tell her we’re sending an officer over right away,” Anderson said. “Tell her dogs are our best friends.”
“She hung up. But here’s another one. Claims the nuns are having an orgy.”
“Something’s going on,” Anderson conceded. “Send Joe Abrams and his partner over to take a look.”
The sergeant switched on the radio. “Come in, Joe Abrams.”
Joe Abrams came in.
“Take a look along the south side of the convent.”
“Right,” Joe Abrams said.
“Patrolman Stick calling from a box on 125th Street,” the sergeant said to Anderson. “Claims he and his partner, Sam Price were attacked and unfooted by a flying saucer some one has released in the neighborhood.”
“Order them to report here before going off duty for an alcohol test,” Anderson said sternly.
The sergeant chuckled as he relayed the order. Then he plugged in another call, and his face went grim.