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CHAPTER SEVEN

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“Let’s dial it back a quarter turn,” Kreega said, the full weight of her authority in her voice. I glanced over, saw she and the other badgemen had their hands on their GovSev 6mm slug guns. “Leave that weapon in its holster, drop the robe flap, and just calm down.”

I felt my lip twist with the subtle politics of the situation. With anyone else, flashing a holstered weapon in an aggressive way would have had the badgemen’s guns instantly out and pointed. But with a pair of Patth, even completely nonofficial civilian types, restraint was the watchword of the day.

At least the second Patth had enough sense to know when he was teetering on the line. “Venikel, please,” he said nervously, clutching at the other’s gun arm. “These humans are badgemen. You cannot simply make demands of them.”

“Our kinsman has been murdered, Kiolven,” Venikel snarled back. “Vengeance is our goal. Vengeance is the only choice.”

“You want choices?” Kreega countered. “Fine—here they are. Choice one: you drop the robe flap, calm down, and we talk. Choice two: you keep it up and you get shot. Pick one.”

For a long, icy silence no one moved. Then Kiolven plucked again at Venikel’s sleeve. “Please, Venikel,” he pleaded quietly. “Needless violence will not gain Galfvi anything.”

Venikel muttered something vile-sounding in the Patth language. But he opened his hand, letting the robe flap drop back to cover his weapon. “I am Venikel,” he proclaimed, his tone marginally less confrontative. “I seek the murderer of my kinsman Galfvi.”

“Detective-Sergeant Kreega, Bilswift badgeman,” Kreega identified herself, easing her own hand off her weapon. “These are Badgeman Grazimink and Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli from Cavindoss. That’s Badgeman Zilor behind you.”

“Kiolven,” Venikel said, gesturing dismissively toward his colleague. “We were told our kinsman Galfvi has been murdered.”

“You were told wrong,” Kreega said. “All we know for sure is that Galfvi has disappeared.”

Venikel gave a wet-sounding snort. “There is no reason a Patthaaunuth would ever need to run or hide,” he bit out. “If he is not here, he has been murdered.” He sent a quick glare at Selene and me, and then turned to face the Javersin brothers, who seemed to be trying mightily to become statues of themselves. “Which one of you was Galfvi’s employer?”

“We both were,” Darnell said carefully. “I’m Darnell Javersin; this is my brother, Bicks.”

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” Venikel demanded.

“Right now, they have nothing to say,” Kreega put in. “They’re witnesses in my investigation. My investigation, not yours.”

Venikel spun to face her. “You dare—?”

“Venikel, please,” Kiolven said, starting to sound exasperated.

Venikel glared briefly at him, then turned to me. “And this one?” he demanded. “Is this one also a witness?”

“This one is an innocent visitor to Detective-Sergeant Kreega’s lovely city,” I said, “who would like to just get back to his own business. Who exactly told you Galfvi had been murdered?”

“We heard the news of his disappearance,” Kiolven said. “There is no reason a Patthaaunuth would ever—”

“Yes, yes, we got it the first time,” I cut him off, watching the two Patth closely. “So how did you get here so quickly? All of this only went down yesterday evening.”

“When murder and vengeance are involved—” Venikel began.

He stopped as Kiolven again touched his arm. “We were in Tranlisoa on business when the news arrived,” Kiolven explained. “We contacted his family and were asked to look into the matter.”

“We then flew through the night to reach here,” Venikel added.

“I see,” I said. “Awfully handy that some of Galfvi’s family were already on Alainn.”

“We aren’t his family,” Venikel said, sounding slightly scandalized. “I merely said we’d talked to them. Whatever gave you the idea we were among them?”

“Because you’re getting pretty emotional about someone you’re not related to,” I said. “You don’t see that very often.”

“All Patthaaunuth are kin to all others,” Kiolven said. “As you kill or hurt or betray one, all the rest also suffer.”

“Of course,” I said. “Silly of me. Stimulating though this conversation is, Detective-Sergeant, if you want Selene to check out that knife, can we get to it? We have a full day’s schedule ahead of us, and we’re burning daylight.”

“Certainly,” Kreega said, still eyeing the Patth. “Badgeman Zilor will drive you.”

“Thank you,” I said, reaching an inviting hand toward Selene. Silently, she moved away from the desk and came over to me. “Oh, and is that mari-mari ripe yet?”

“What?” Darnell asked, sounding confused.

“Your brother said the mari-mari would be ripe today,” I said. “We were hoping we could pick some up.”

“I don’t know,” Darnell said. “Bicks?”

Bicks visibly shifted mental gears. “It’s, uh, it’ll be another five or six hours. Late afternoon. That’s what Tirano said.”

“Great,” I said. “We’ll come back then.” I took Selene’s arm and sidled us past the two Patth. “We’re ready whenever you are, Badgeman Zilor. Masters Venikel and Kiolven, I’m sure we’ll see you again.”

“That does appear likely,” Venikel agreed, eyeing me closely as we passed him. “May your tasks of the day be fully resolved.”

We were halfway across the main shop when Selene finally leaned in toward me. “Venikel,” she murmured.

I nodded acknowledgment. So Venikel, the hot-headed Patth, was the one who’d nailed me with that vertigo dart and left his scent on the barrel of my plasmic. So much for them flying in overnight. “Well, he’s right about one thing,” I muttered back.

“That Galfvi was murdered?”

I shook my head. “That he and I would be seeing each other again.”

* * *

Given that the knife that had cut Galfvi had been in the prep area where both Tirano and Galfvi worked, it wasn’t surprising that it had both their scents on it.

Unfortunately, there was also glove scent on it, which meant whoever had cut Galfvi had worn gloves, which meant there was no way for Selene to figure out which one of the two had held it last.

Kreega was annoyed by Selene’s failure, and didn’t make much effort to conceal it. Sovelli was smugly condescending, and made even less of an effort.

Still, as far as I was concerned the side trip had been worthwhile. I’d now visited the Bilswift badgeman station, seen what their security was like, and marked where they locked up their evidence. If Selene and I needed to take a closer look at any of it, I knew how and where to start.

“What do you think of them?” Zilor asked as we got back in his car. “The Patth?”

“You mean Venikel and Kiolven?” I shrugged. “I don’t buy their whole we’re-all-kinsman speech, if that’s what you’re asking. I get the feeling there’s something more personal going on under the surface.”

“Yeah.” Zilor was silent a moment. “I grew up near one of the Narchner areas of Porsto. I remember hearing one of them sing a song about how ancient Patth families dealt with internal trouble.”

“Sounds like a rousing ballad,” I commented. “Sorry I missed it.”

“How they dealt with trouble,” Zilor continued doggedly, “was that if someone shamed or embarrassed his family, he could be taken back to them, bounty-hunter style, and put on trial. If he lost, he’d be erased from all family records and banished to an island somewhere.”

“That’s all?” I asked, feeling a little disappointed. “Deleted from the record books and then banished? Narchner songs about other species usually come a lot bloodier than that.”

“Indeed,” Selene confirmed. “I once heard a Narchner song about Kalixiri who sent outriders off on hunts. If the outrider didn’t bring back game, the Kalix would eat the outrider instead.”

“They have a lot of songs about human torture methods and genocide, too,” I said. “Stuff that we stopped doing four or five centuries ago. And there was a particularly catchy one about a Ylpea dynasty that slaughtered surrendering enemies and then skinned the bodies for book bindings.”

“Did the Ylps really do that?” Selene asked, a horrified look in her pupils.

“Maybe it was only that one dynasty,” I said. “Or maybe it was all of them. Near as I can tell, Narchners just like singing about other species’ darkest historical moments, the bloodier and more sordid the better. Simple boring banishment doesn’t really sound like their style.”

“I might have missed something in that one,” Zilor conceded. “He was still going on as I left, and those upper harmonics they hit make my teeth hurt. But just because the songs are bloody doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Like you said about human genocide, a lot of legends and stories have a grain of truth in them.”

“I concede the point about legends,” I said. “Songs, not necessarily. What’s your point?”

“My point is that we’re badgemen,” Zilor said. “We can’t do anything to interfere with a potential crime until we have evidence or probable cause.”

“Any particular crime you have in mind?” I asked.

“Kidnapping,” he said bluntly. “Specifically, I’m worried about Kiolven and Venikel snatching Galfvi.”

“I thought Galfvi was dead.”

Zilor snorted. “You don’t seriously think that, do you?”

“What about the blood?”

“Self-inflicted,” Zilor said, as if that should be obvious. “A pathetic attempt to sidetrack our investigation.”

“Kiolven and Venikel seem to believe otherwise.”

“Kiolven and Venikel are family lackeys, not trained professionals,” Zilor growled. “There was no blood trail, no other marks or droplets anywhere else, and none of the splatter that always happens when someone tries to jerk away from a knife that’s cutting into him.”

I looked at Selene, saw some grudging respect in her pupils. Small-city badgemen usually weren’t great shakes in the detection department—probably why Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli had been called in—but so far Zilor was showing an aptitude for such things. Granted, his observations weren’t quite solid enough to support his conclusions, but they were close enough.

Though my approval might be a bit colored by the fact that I’d already come to those same conclusions. “Let’s say for argument’s sake you’re right,” I said. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Detective-Sergeant Kreega says you’re bounty hunters,” he said. “Like I said, we can’t move without evidence. You have more freedom of action.”

Retired bounty hunters,” I said automatically. “And that freedom of action only comes when the target’s been registered with an official bounty.”

“Okay,” he said. “How do I post one?”

I frowned. The guy was more serious about this than I’d realized. “Why?” I asked.

“Why do I want you picking up Galfvi?” Zilor huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’ve been watching him for a long time, Roarke. He’s shifty, too smooth a talker by half, and way too smart to be cutting up fish in a Bilswift fish shop.”

“So you think he’s up to something?”

“I know he’s up to something,” Zilor said. “He’s either running a scam, planning a major theft, or something worse. The point is that I don’t want a pair of Patth Johnny-come-dawnings sneaking him off Alainn and out of our jurisdiction before I get a solid crack at him.”

“Understood,” I said. Way more serious than I’d realized. “Okay. First, you need to go to the nearest StarrComm center and register the target with Bounty Hunter Central. That includes escrowing a sizeable monetary deposit. Second—”

“How sizeable?”

“Depends on how badly you want the target,” I said. “Prices usually start around twenty thousand commarks and go up from there.”

He threw me a stunned look over the back seat. “Twenty thousand?”

“You’re inviting in hunters from all over the Spiral,” I reminded him. “You have to make it worth their time or they won’t bother.”

“But I don’t want anyone else,” he protested. “I just want to hire you.”

“You have to make it worth our time, too,” I said. “But seriously, any bounty under twenty thousand is going to attract the monitors’ attention and make them wonder what you’re up to.”

“I gather that’s not a good thing?”

“Not if you’re a badgeman,” I said. “You really think you’re the first to come up with the brilliant idea of bypassing Commonwealth law by hiring hunters to bring in a suspect you can’t officially charge?”

“I suppose not,” he muttered. “Yeah. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Well, it’s not like we had anything else to do right now,” I said, looking at Selene and noting the prodding in her pupils. If Galfvi was found dead or injured, unless the badgemen could prove it was by his own hand the next logical suspect in line would be Tirano. “Tell you what,” I continued reluctantly. “Selene and I will keep our eyes open. If we spot anything odd or suspicious, you’ll get it first.”

“Thanks,” he said.

We continued on to the spaceport in silence. Zilor dropped us beside the runaround stand where our rental was parked, we said good-bye to him, and with Selene at the wheel, we headed out.

“It looks bad for Tirano, doesn’t it?” she said quietly as she maneuvered us through the Bilswift traffic.

“Bad, yes,” I conceded. “But hardly conclusive. There were at least three spots in that office where someone could set up a hidden camera to record the safe being opened.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kreega that?”

“I was going to,” I said, scowling at the memory, “but right then the Patth made their dramatic entrance and I didn’t feel like handing out any more free information. I’ll tell her later. What did you think of their hot badge/cold badge routine, by the way?”

“It was good enough, I suppose,” Selene said, her pupils going thoughtful. “Not sure why they thought it necessary, though.”

“They were probably expecting to get a private meeting with the Javersin brothers and had to tweak the script a little when they got inside and realized they had a roomful of official witnesses. For some people, bluster is the go-to fallback position.”

“Maybe,” Selene murmured. “They didn’t seem all that surprised, though.”

I eyed her. I’d been reading what facial and body language cues I could, but of course Selene’s analysis of these things went a layer deeper. “I was pretty sure Venikel wasn’t the angry justice-seeker he was playing. But you say they weren’t surprised, either?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “But that’s just from what I know about Patth in general. I don’t have a baseline for these two in particular.”

“Yeah,” I said. Which unfortunately lowered her emotional reading accuracy from ninety-plus percent to probably somewhere in the midtwenties. “Well, we can take another run at them later. We’ve already agreed that’s going to happen.”

Selene was silent another block. “Do you still want to look at the place where Lukki was killed?”

“Very much so,” I said. “And while I hate to put it off any longer than I have to, I think we should steer clear for another few hours at least. Even if Kreega is done with the crime scene, our pompous Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli may want to take a look for himself. I’d just as soon not cross paths with him again right away.”

“And besides, this isn’t our job?”

I winced at the anxiety in her pupils. “If Tirano’s innocent, Selene, we’ll find a way to prove that,” I promised. “But yes, our first priority is to check out that portal.”

I could see the question And if he’s not innocent? hovering in her pupils. But she didn’t say anything more.

Neither did I. As my father used to say, Crossing bridges before you come to them doesn’t gain you anything and puts a lot of extra off-road wear on your tires.

* * *

Given the talk I’d heard from our car rental guy about tourists driving cheerfully up into the mountains, I’d expected the road would be wide, nicely paved, and conducive to a pleasant day’s journey.

It wasn’t any of those things. It was narrow, pocked with pits and bumps, had occasional drop-offs that would scare a mountain goat, and in general provided a real challenge to a tourist’s determination and driving skills.

I’d wondered why Selene had taken so long to get up the road and back. Now I knew.

I also knew why Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli had opted for an aircar for his trip over the mountains from Cavindoss.

The fence Selene had told me about also wasn’t as obvious as I’d expected. Instead of running right alongside the road it paralleled it about twenty meters away to the north, most of it nestled inconspicuously inside the first line of trees. For a while I hoped that might be our way in, that we could climb one of the outer trees, cross some convenient branches to one of the inner trees, and climb back down.

But the Patth who’d set up the barrier had known what they were doing. The sensor buds, while primarily guarding the ground-level approaches, also had up-angle modules that would have a range of two or three meters. There were plenty of trees that were taller than that, but all the branches thick enough to hold our weight were well below that critical level.

We drove slowly the entire length of the fence, Selene battling the road, me watching for anything that looked like a gap or depression in the ground we might be able to wriggle through. But there was nothing.

The main road was challenging enough. The jeep trail she’d told me about, the one that angled off and headed north to the river, was even worse.

“So that’s it?” I asked as we walked the last ten meters to the dilapidated boat dock at the end of the jeep trail.

“That’s it,” Selene confirmed. She stopped a meter from the gently rippling water and pointed. “You can see the fence—there and there—weaving in and out of the trees. But there are also a couple of places, one of them just past the big mottled brown tree, where you can see a feeder creek flowing into the river.”

“So you’re suggesting the creek may have cut a deep enough gap under the fence that we can crawl through the water to the other side?” I asked doubtfully.

“I know it would be uncomfortable,” she said, her pupils going a little defensive. “But it might get us in.”

“That it might,” I agreed, leaning over a little more in hopes of getting a better look. “Certainly worth checking out. Problem is, we’d have to be in the river to stay clear of those sensors. I wonder if Bilswift has any places that rent out boats.”

“I would think there would be at least one,” she said, pulling out her info pad.

“Don’t bother,” I said, peering at the western sky. From my current vantage point I had a perfect view of the rain clouds rolling in toward us. “You can look it up when we get back. I’d like to try to get back to town before that road turns to mud.”

* * *

We almost made it.

The rain held off until the last kilometer or two, where the mountain road was a little wider and almost worthy of the name. “We heading straight back to the ship?” Selene asked as we made our way along the city street grid.

“Let’s stop by the fish shop first,” I said, looking out at the pedestrians as they strode along, their feet making little splashes on the wet walkways as they dodged the larger ones created by the vehicles rumbling by. At least today we’d been smart enough to wear long all-weather coats and bring fold-up rain hats. “That mari-mari ought to be ripe by now.”

“Actually, it should be a little past,” Selene murmured.

“Yeah, maybe a little,” I conceded. “But they did say there was a window of an hour or two when it’s at its best.”

“They should certainly know,” she said. “That’s odd.”

“What is?”

“The shop seems to be closed.”

I frowned. She was right: the shutters that had been covering the counter and windows were still in place. “I wonder if Kreega found some new evidence to examine,” Selene said.

“More likely Sovelli decided to have her go over everything again for him,” I growled. So much for having mari-mari for dinner. “Fine. Plan B. Swing around to Panza’s Café and drop me off.”

She looked across at me, surprise and concern in her pupils. “You going there again?”

“I still haven’t tagged our gourmet Patth,” I reminded her. “Unless you think Venikel or Kiolven fits the bill.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “The food aromas from their robes were fancy enough, but it wasn’t what I smelled when we first arrived.”

“So Panza’s it is,” I said. “While I do that, you can head back to the Ruth, check on Tirano, and maybe look into that boat rental if you have time.”

“Don’t you think I should come with you?”

I shook my head. “It might be handy, but it’s been a long day, and if this becomes a waste of my time there’s no point wasting yours, too. Just go back to the ship and get some rest. I’ve got my hat—I can walk back when I’m finished.”

“That’s what you thought last night,” she reminded me, the tension level in her pupils amping up a bit. “Maybe we should go back to the Ruth first so you can at least get your phone.”

“It’s not worth the extra trip,” I said. “Besides, Kiolven and Venikel found out last night who I am. There’s no reason for them to take another shot at me now.”

The look in her pupils told me exactly what she thought of that logic. But she just nodded. “All right. But if you’re not back in three hours I’m going to come and look for you.”

“Make it four and you’ve got a deal,” I said. “I’m still hoping Panza’s has some decent barbeque.”

* * *

Yesterday, the café had been comfortably full. Today, with my arrival closer to regular dinnertime, it was packed. All the booths were full, as were most of the tables and the line of stools at the bar. I had to go loiter by the stools for a few minutes until a pair of Saffi finished their drinks and I was able to grab their table.

Last night’s bartender, the one who’d pointed me to Lukki, was back, this time serving as a waiter. I could tell he recognized me, but he merely took my drink order, assured me that, yes, Panza’s had the best Earth-Kansas-style barbeque on Alainn, and took that order, too.

After that, all I had to do was sit back, sip at my Dewar’s, and observe the rest of the clientele.

I’d been a bounty hunter a long time, first alone and then with Selene, and I’d learned how to read the sense of a room and the people in it. Here, the general mood was one of calmness mixed with the typical tired relaxation that came from the successful completion of yet another day’s work.

But there were also a few small pockets that held a more serious undertone. Tirano and Galfvi hadn’t been big names in Bilswift, but they were known well enough in the fish lovers’ community that their disappearance had been noted. There were also one or two even darker moods that I tentatively tagged as reactions to Lukki’s murder. Whether those people were friends, associates, or enemies, though, I hadn’t a clue.

As my father used to say, From the outside, dark fears of the future and dark plans for the future look a lot alike.

Given Panza’s status as a modest establishment in a minor town on a middling planet, I hadn’t expected much from the cuisine. I was therefore pleasantly surprised when my rack of ribs arrived with extra sauce, side orders of garlic bread and local greens, and even a fashionable finger bowl with two lemon wedges poised on the edges ready to add extra cleaning power to the water. Keeping one eye on the crowd and the other on the main door across the room, I dug in.

They weren’t the best ribs I’d ever had, but they were easily in the top twenty. If there was indeed an Icarus portal inside the fenced-off wilderness up there, and if we could get to it first, I would have to make sure Selene and I got assigned to the team tasked with digging it out.

I’d finished the first half rack and was starting on the second when the door opened and Venikel and Kiolven walked in.

I raised my hands and one of the ribs to my mouth, a pleasant meal turned instantly into face-obscuring camouflage. I tensed as the two Patth looked around, but I saw no indication in their body language that they’d spotted me. A moment later, they headed at an angle across the room to a booth on the other side and sat down across from a figure in a dark raincoat and hat.

I scowled. I’d done a quick visual of the room when I first came in, and remembered seeing the solitary occupant of that booth nursing a dark beer and an appetizer plate. But muffled in all that rain gear I hadn’t been able to even identify his species, let alone get a good look at his face or build.

And just because Patth nearly always appeared in public in those hooded robes of theirs it didn’t mean they couldn’t branch out into something else if the occasion called for it.

Selene would have been able to tell me instantly if the cuisine she’d smelled yesterday was on tonight’s menu. Without her, I’d just have to do this the hard way. A drunken walk-by, a brush of my hand against plate or glass or cutlery, and I should be able to pick up enough of his scent for Selene to analyze once I was back aboard the Ruth.

Alternatively, I could keep my distance, activate my artificial left arm’s mirrored thumbnail, and use it to try to get a surreptitious look at our mystery guest as I headed for the door. That one had the virtue of possibly allowing me to pass them without being spotted in return, but the downside of offering only a glimpse and no way to tell in advance whether that one shot would gain me anything.

Or if I really wanted to shake up the evening, I could always go with the straight-up direct approach. In the secret wrist compartment of that same artificial arm were six quick-acting knockout pills that could be surreptitiously dropped into a target’s drink and send him into peaceful oblivion for a few hours.

But one way or another, this was my chance to add another puzzle piece to my small but growing collection. I took a last bite from my rib, set it down on my plate—

“Well, well,” a familiar voice said quietly from behind me. “You’ve got a nerve coming back here.”

I swallowed a curse. At least I’d now eliminated one possibility as to who the two Patth were meeting. “Hello, Willie,” I said, making sure to keep my hands visible. He wasn’t pressing a gun to my head, but I didn’t doubt he was quite ready to do so if he decided the situation called for it. “How are Braun’s ribs doing?”

“Hilarious,” Willie growled. “You’ll have to tell him that one. On your feet. We’ve got places to go.”

“Can I finish my meal first?” I asked, looking casually around at the nearest tables. No one was reacting to our little conversation, which strongly suggested Willie’s gun was still tucked away out of sight in its holster. It was a small window of opportunity, but it was better than nothing.

“Don’t worry about it, smart guy,” he said sarcastically. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll have some of that slop in hell. Move it.”

“If you insist.” I wiped the worst of the sauce on my napkin, then dipped my hands into the finger bowl, swishing my fingertips around for a final cleaning. I started to stand up, giving my fingers one last wiggle—

And half turning toward Willie, I held up the lemon wedge I’d surreptitiously plucked from the edge of the bowl with my left hand and squeezed the juice straight into his eyes.

His first reaction to the jolt of citric acid suddenly burning into his face was to snap up his right arm to protect it. A fraction of a second later his brain caught up with his reflexes and he reversed direction, aiming for his gun.

But he was too late. I’d already dropped the lemon and locked my left hand solidly around his holstered weapon before his own hand could reach it. At the same time, I got a grip on my plasmic.

He froze in place. “Hell,” he muttered.

“Not necessarily,” I soothed quietly. “I assume you’re here because you think I killed your boss. I didn’t. Nor am I really interested in killing you. Not unless you insist.”

His eyes flicked around the room as if gauging the response if he shouted for help. Whatever he saw brought his eyes grudgingly back to mine. “What do you want?”

“Let’s start with both of us walking out of here alive,” I said. “If you’re feeling generous, I’m also in the market for information.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that points us to Ms. Parsons’ real killer,” I said. “Enemies, business rivals, random people she’s pissed off. Any thoughts?”

“Right,” he growled. “Like I’m going to grease your way while you take over her territory? Forget it.”

“Let’s start over,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. As my father used to say, When the only tool you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. That logic also applies to criminal paranoia. “I had no interest in Ms. Parsons’ business, I have no interest in your business, and I have no interest in Alainn in general or Bilswift in particular.”

I glanced down at my plate. “Well, except maybe this sauce recipe. More important from your point of view, I’m very high on Detective-Sergeant Kreega’s radar, and there’s a good chance one of her badgemen is waiting outside in the rain to tail me home. Killing someone in full view of witnesses is usually considered a bad idea.” I nodded sideways toward my table’s other chair. “So is having a confrontation while standing in the middle of a crowded room. Shall we sit?”

He gave a snort. “Sure. See you around, Roarke.” He spun around, the movement breaking my grip on his gun, and stalked toward the back of the room. I watched as he reached the bar and turned right, exiting out the café’s rear door. I sat down, craning my neck that direction for another minute to make sure he wasn’t going to pull a double-reverse on me, then turned back to my meal and the booth I was watching.

My meal was still there. The three people in the booth weren’t.

I swore under my breath, doing a quick scan of the room. There was no sign of them. Best guess was that my confrontation with Willie had caught their attention and encouraged them to slip out.

That, or else Willie’s arrival and distraction had been a deliberate part of someone’s plan to ruin my surveillance.

In which case there might still be a chance.

I stood up, dropped enough money on the table to cover my bill, and headed for the door Willie had disappeared through. If he was working with the two Patth, he might even now be heading for a quick rendezvous with them for further instructions or for all of them to congratulate themselves on a job well done. If they weren’t careless enough to have such a meeting out in the open, I could at least tail Willie back to his lair and see where he and Braun had set up shop since their boss’s recent passing. Closing and sealing the front of my long coat, I wedged my rain hat firmly onto my head and ducked out into the evening gloom.

The rain had been steady but light when I arrived at Panza’s. Since then, it had turned into an equally steady but much heavier shower. I peered out from beneath the dripping edge of my hat, looking around at the hurrying pedestrians and trying to pick Willie’s bulk out of the crowd. His coat had been damp, I remembered, but he’d come and gone so quickly that I hadn’t had a chance to check out his trousers and shoes to be able to estimate how long he’d been out in the weather before slipping in Panza’s back door. If he’d come by car, and was already back in that vehicle, my chances of catching him or even just spotting him dropped pretty close to zero.

There was a muted double flash at the edge of my peripheral vision. I turned that direction, peering into the gloom and passing vehicles, wondering what it was I’d seen. A car came around the nearest corner, its headlights briefly pointing at me as it completed its turn, but that didn’t look right. None of the streetlights were out, nor was I seeing flickers from any of them.

And the fact that there’d been two flashes . . . 

Damn.

With a sigh, I opened my coat far enough to dig out my plasmic. Holding it against my chest where it would be ready but unobtrusive, I headed off to find the body.


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Framed