Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

commendation, when things quiet down. But we still have to suspend you pending investigation.It's just routine. I'm sure it'll be fine.""I know, Captain.""Dodson - there's nothing you want to tell me about this?""Like... what?""I don't know. Just.... next time you have one of these, you know, these hunches, callsomebody before you ... follow up. I mean - not if there's a shooter right there, but...""I know what you mean, sir.""Okay. We'll see you in the morning at the inquest."She nodded, and walked out, thinking, He's right.I'm scared by this thing, too.--Chaz had just pulled up in a discreet, shadowy comer of Twenty Lanes' parking lot. He tookConstantine's bag from the trunk of the taxi, followed him toward the door of the bowling alley."Ever think if you told me more now and then, maybe I could help you out?" he askedConstantine."Nope," Constantine said, without so much as a glance at Chaz, as he led the way inside.Anyplace else, this much noise and clatter, the sounds of things crashing down, would be asign to take cover from a landslide. But in a bowling alley it was normal. Most of the lanes weregoing strong at the Twenty Lanes as Constantine and Chaz crossed the lobby, walking past thepimply young man renting shoes, past rows of the house balls in cabinets, all in bright primarycolors."Bowling shoes - what a scam that is," Chaz remarked."Just get me Beeman, now please," Constantine said, looking down the lanes at somebodycurving a ball in for a perfect strike. He could shoot a gun straight as Buffalo Bill, he couldpunch like a son of a bitch, he could summon fire sprites and wind elementals, he could trap ademon in a mirror, and he could see the astral world - but for the life of him, he couldn't roll oneof those hooks to get a strike. Bowling technique was an esoteric mystery to Constantine.Drive me here, get me Beeman, blow my nose, Chaz thought. Aloud he said, "Question: Howmuch longer do I have to be your slave?""You're not my slave, Chaz, you're my very appreciated apprentice. Like Tonto or Robin orthat skinny fellow with the fat friend from the old movies." They'd crossed the bowling alley tothe exit on the far side."When do I apprentice something besides driving?" And, he thought, signaling eccentrics whohide out in the back of bowling alleys?But Constantine had already slipped through the exit door.Chaz growled to himself. "No. Really. Great. We'll do lunch."He sighed, went to the ball rack for lane thirteen, as always, and ran his fingers across thehouse balls. Only one was bright pearly white. He held it in one hand, took a grease pencil andwrote NEW GAME on the overhead, then stepped onto the polished wood, prepping for a bowl.He winked at a pretty brunette girl watching from the next lane. Her buff young boyfriend didn'tlike it. Chaz bowled, and the hook was perfect. The strike was a mathematical inevitability,every ball going down just when it should. The brunette grinned.He returned the smile and, resignedly, went back out to the cab.--Constantine's apartment was small - but not as small as it looked. He pulled a chain hangingdown the right-hand wall as he came in, and the far wall shuttered open, revealing a farther room