Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [64]
Okay. He knew now if he could get past the glue, he could open the lock.
Next step: Duplicate what Toliver did—Toliverize the locks. So he tapped a tack into the keyhole of one of them and followed it with some Krazy Glue. Then he filled the shackle hole with glue and snapped the shackle into it. He did the same thing with a second lock and put both aside to set.
He left the third as it was in case he needed an untampered lock for reference.
He’d promised Mr. Rosen three hours at USED today. That would give the glue plenty of time to set and cure. He’d tackle the locks then.
8
Later, Jack returned to the garage straight from USED. He had a bad feeling as he inspected the two Toliverized locks. The Krazy Glue had cured for hours now, forming a clear, hard seal around the tacks in the keyholes and around the shackles. He went to work on them.
He tried to force the shim inside but no use. And no surprise. He’d expected that.
As he unscrewed the cap on his mother’s bottle of nail polish remover, the chemical stink wrinkled his nose. He took one lock and brushed some acetone on the keyhole and on the rim of the shackle hole. Then he waited. He gave it five minutes, then tried the shim.
No go.
The acetone seemed to have softened the surface of the glue enough for the shim’s point to scrape it, but that was it. The solvent had had no effect on the deeper levels.
Same with the keyhole. Jack could not budge the tack.
Maybe he’d have to use more acetone and leave it on longer.
He slathered the same areas of both Toliverized locks with nail polish remover, then stood back.
How long to wait? He’d go nuts standing here counting the minutes.
Well, he’d planned to stop in on Weezy today. Why not now?
He grabbed his bike and wheeled it out of the garage.
9
“Oh, Jack,” Mrs. Connell said with a smile when she opened the front door. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Is Weezy around?”
Her smile faded. “Around? Of course she’s around. Where else would she be? She’s up in her room, as usual. Go knock on the door, but I can’t guarantee she’ll open it.”
On his way up the stairs Jack heard the sounds of a football game from the TV in the living room. The Sunday afternoon game. He’d been so wrapped up in vasectomies and Toliverized locks that he’d forgotten all about the NFL. His Eagles were playing the Baltimore Colts.
He knocked on Weezy’s door and got no answer, so he knocked again.
“Hey, Weez, it’s Jack.”
Her voice came faintly through the door. “I’m kinda tired, Jack.”
“I’ve got news—good news. You’ll really want to hear this.”
A few seconds later the door opened and Weezy stood there, looking pretty much the same as the last time he’d seen her. Except maybe a little paler, if that was possible.
“What news? What about?”
Jack lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “About ‘Easy Weezy.’”
Her face contorted and she started to close the door. “I don’t want—”
“Wait.” Jack blocked the door with his foot. “It’s good news. Very good news.”
She allowed it to swing open again.
“All right. But just for a minute.”
He ducked into the dimly lit room—as usual, the shades were drawn—and she shut the door behind him.
“I could use some good news,” she said. “But I can’t see anything about ‘Easy Weezy’ being good.”
“How about if nobody’s saying it anymore? Wouldn’t that be good?”
“That’s only because I’m not around. All I have to do is show my face again—just once—and it’ll be a different story.”
“No way. Because the only thing on people’s minds now that has anything to do with Carson Toliver is his locker.”
Weezy gave him a strange look. “What are you talking about?”
Jack gave her a quick rundown of the surprises in Toliver’s locker—the toy spider, the spring snake, the marbles—and his increasingly furious reactions, capped by his rigging a supposedly unopenable lock.
“The thing is, Weez, opening his locker has become an event. It’s all anybody’s talking about—‘What’s gonna be in Carson’s locker this time?’ That’s all you hear. ‘Easy Weezy’ is old news—way