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〃Arrivederci！〃 said Joe Winder。
From his third…floor office above Sally's Cimarron Saloon； Francis X。 Kingsbury heard the parade go by。 Only Princess Golden Sun's dolorous aria brought him to the window； where he parted the blinds to see what in the name of Jesus H。 Christ had gone wrong。 The disposition of the crowd had changed from festive to impatient。 Unfuckingbelievable； thought Kingsbury。 It's death； this music。 And what's with the evening gown； the Kitty Carlisle number。 Where's the buckskin bikini？ Where's the tits and ass？ The tourists looked ready to bolt。
Carrie hit the final note and held it…held it forever； it seemed to Kingsbury。 The girl had great pipes； he had to admit； but it wasn't the time or place for Italian caterwauling。 And God； this song； when would it end？
As the float trundled by； Kingsbury was surprised to see that Princess Golden Sun wasn't singing anymore； in fact； she was drinking from a can of root beer。 Yet her final melancholy note still hung in the air！
Or was it something else now？
The fire alarm； for instance。
Kingsbury thought： Please； don't let it be。 He tried to call Security but no one answered…that fucking Pedro； he should've been back from his errand hours ago。
Outside； the alarm had tripped a prerecorded message on the public…address system； urging everyone to depart the Amazing Kingdom in a calm and orderly fashion。 When Kingsbury peeked out the window again； he saw customers streaming like ants for the exits； the performers and concessionaires ran； as well。 Baldy the Eagle ripped off his wings and sprinted from the park at Olympic speed； the animal trainers fled together in a hijacked Cushman； but not before springing the hinge on the lion's cage and shooing the wobbly； tranquilized beast toward the woods。
Kingsbury ran； too。 He ran in search of Pedro Luz； the only man who knew how to turn off the fire alarm。 Golf spikes clacking on the concrete； Kingsbury jogged from the security office to King Arthur's Food Court to The Catabs； where he found Spence Mooher limping in mopey addled circles； like a dog who'd been grazed by a speeding bus。
But there was no trace of Pedro； and despair clawed at Kingsbury's gut。 People now were pouring out of the park； and taking their money with them。 Even if they had wished to stop and purchase one last overpriced souvenir； no one was available to sell it to them。
Chickenshits！ Kingsbury raged inwardly。 All this panic； and no fire。 Can't you idiots see it's a false alarm？
Then came the screams。
Kingsbury's throat tightened。 He ducked into a photo kiosk and removed the laminated ID card from his belt。 Why risk it if the crowd turned surly？
The screaming continued。 In a prickly sweat； Kingsbury tracked the disturbance to the whale tank； where something had caught the attention of several families on their way out of the park。 They lined the walkway； and excitedly pointed to the water。 Assuming the pose of a fellow tourist； Kingsbury nonchalantly joined the others on the rail。 He overheard one man tell his wife that there wasn't enough light to use the video camera； she encouraged him to try anyway。 A young girl cried and clutched at her mother's leg； her older brother told her to shut up； it's just a plastic dummy。
It wasn't a dummy。 It was the partially clothed body of Pedro Luz； facedown in the Orky tank。 His muscular buttocks mooned the masses； and indeed it was this sight…not the fact he was dead…that had shocked customers into shrieking。
Francis X。 Kingsbury glared spitefully at the corpse。 Pedro's bobbing bare ass seemed to mock him…a hairy faceless smile； taunting as it floated by。 So this is how it goes； thought Kingsbury。 Give a man a second chance； this is how he pays you back。
Suddenly； and without warning； Dickie the Dolphin rocketed twenty feet out of the water and performed a perfect triple…reverse somersault。
The tourists； out of pure dumb reflex； broke into applause。
The Amazing Kingdom of Thrills emptied in forty minutes。 Two hook…and…ladder rigs arrived from Homestead； followed by a small pumper truck from the main fire station in lower Key Largo。 The fire fighters unrolled the hoses and wandered around the park； but found no sign of a fire。 They were preparing to leave when three green Jeeps with flashing lights raced into the empty parking lot。 The fire fighters weren't sure what to make of the Game and Fish officers； an amusement park seemed an unlikely hideout for gator poachers。 Sergeant Mark Dyerson flagged down one of the departing fire trucks and asked the captain if it was safe to take dogs into the area。 The captain said sure； be my guest。 Almost immediately the hounds struck a scent； and the old tracker turned them loose。 The wildlife officers loaded up the dart guns and followed。
Francis Kingsbury happened to be staring out the window when he spotted the lion loping erratically down Kingsbury Lane； a pack of dogs trailed closely； snapping at its tail。 The doped…up cat attempted to climb one of the phony palm trees； but fell when its claws pulled loose from the Styrofoam bark。 Swatting at the hounds； the cat rose and continued its disoriented escape。
Lunacy； thought Kingsbury。
Someone knocked twice on the office door and came in…a short round man with thin brown hair and small black eyes。 A hideous polyester…blend shirt identified him as a valued customer。 Pinned diagonally across the man's chest was a wrinkled streamer that said 〃OUR FIVE…MILLIONTH SPECIAL GUEST！〃 In the crook of each arm sat a stuffed toy animal with reddish fur； pipestem whiskers and a merry turquoise tongue。
Vance and Violet Vole。
〃For my nieces；〃 the man explained。 〃I got so much free stuff I can hardly fit it in the car。〃
Kingsbury smiled stiffly。 〃The big winner； right？ That's you。〃
〃Yeah； my wife can't fuckin〃 believe it。〃
〃Didn't you hear it； the fire alarm？ Everybody else； I mean； off they went。〃
〃But I didn't see no fire；〃 the man said。 〃No smoke； neither。〃 He arranged the stuffed animals side by side on Kingsbury's sofa。
The guy's a total yutz； Kingsbury thought。 Does he want my autograph or what？ Maybe a snapshot with the big cheese。
〃What's that you got there？〃 the man asked。 〃By the way； the name's Rossiter。〃 He nodded toward a plaid travel bag that lay open on Kingsbury's desk。 The bag was full of cash； mostly twenties and fifties。
The man said； 〃Looks like I wasn't the only one had a lucky day。〃
Kingsbury snapped the bag closed。 I'm very busy； Mr。 Rossiter。 What's the problem…something with the new car； right？ The color doesn't match your wife's eyes or whatever。〃
〃No； the car's great。 I got no plaints about the car。〃
Then what？〃 Kingsbury said。 〃The parade； I bet。 That last song； I swear to Christ； I don't know where that shit came from…〃
〃You kiddin' me？ It was beautiful。 It was Puccini。〃
Kingsbury threw up his hands。 〃Whatever。 Not to be rude； but what the fuck do you want？〃
The man said； 〃I got a confession to make。 I cheated a little this morning。〃 He shrugged sheepishly。 〃I cut in line so we could be the first ones through the gate。 That's how I won the car。〃
It figures； thought Kingsbury。 Your basic South Florida clien