Trumps of doom

«Never mind. What do I have to do to persuade you?»

«Mm. Wait a minute. Let me think,» I answered. «All right. How about this? I'll meet you someplace. You name the place. I get a good look at you and we trade information, one piece at a time, till all the cards are on the table.»

There was a pause.

Then: «That's the only way you'll do it?»

«Yes.»

«Let me think about it. I'll be back in touch soon.»

«One thing -»

«. What?»

«If it is me, am I in danger right now?»

«I think so. Yes, you probably are. Good-bye.» He hung up.

I managed to sigh and swear at the same time as I recradled the phone. People who knew about us seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.

Bill came into the kitchen, a very puzzled expression on his face.

«How'd whoever-the-hell-he-is even know you're here?» were his first words.

«That was my question,» I said. «Think up another.»

«I will. If he wants to set something up, are you really going?»

«You bet. I suggested it because I want to meet this guy.»

«As you pointed out, he may be the danger.»

«'That's okay by me. He's going to be in a lot of danger,too.»

«I don't like it.»

«I'm not so happy with it myself. But it's the best offer I've had so far.»

«Well, it's your decision. It's too bad there isn't some way of locating him beforehand.»

«That passed through my mind, too.»

«Listen, why not push him a little?»

«How?»

«He sounded a little nervous, and I don't think he liked your suggestion any more than I do. Let's not be here when he calls back. Don't let him think you're just sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. Make him wait a little. Go conjure up some fresh clothes and we'll drive over to the country club for a couple of hours. It'll beat raiding the icebox.»

«Good idea,» I said. «This was supposed to be a vacation, one time. That's probably the closest I'll get. Sounds ime.» I renewed my wardrobe out of Shadow, trimmed my beard, showered, and dressed. We drove to the club then and had a leisurely meal on the terrace. It was a good evening for it, balmy and star-filled, running with moonlight like milk. By mutual consent we refrained from discussing my problems any further. Bill seemed to know almost everyone there, so it seemed a friendly place to me. It was the most relaxed evening I'd spent in a long while. Afterward we stopped for drinks in the club bar, which I gathered had been one of my dad's favorite watering spots, strains of dance music drifting through from the room next door.

«Yeah, it was a good idea,» I said. «Thanks.»

«De nada,» he said. «I had a lot of good times here with your old man. You haven't, by any chance?»

«No, no news of him.»

«Sorry.»

«I'll let you know when he turns up.»

«Sure. Sorry.»

The drive back was uneventful, and no one followed us. We got in a little after midnight, said good night, and I went straight to my room. I shrugged out of my new jacket and hung it in the closet, kicked off my new shoes and left them there, too. As I walked back into the room, I noticed the white rectangle on the pillow of my bed.

I crossed to it in two big steps and snatched it up. SORRY YOU WERE NOT IN WHEN I CALLED BACK, It said, in block capitals. BUT I SAW YOU AT THE CLUB AND CAN CERTAINLY UNDERSTAND YOUR WANTING A NIGHT OUT. IT GAVE ME AN IDEA. LET'S MEET IN THE BAR THERE, TOMORROW NIGHT, AT TEN. I'D FEEL BETTER WTTH LOTS OF PEOPLE AROUND BUT NONE OF THEM LISTENING.

Damn. My first impulse was to go and tell Bill. My first thought following the impulse, though, was that there was nothing he could do except lose some sleep over it, a thing he probably needed a lot more than I did. So I folded the note and stuck it in my shirt pocket, then hung up the shirt.

Not even a nightmare to liven my slumber. I slept deeply and well, knowing Frakir would rouse me in the event of danger. In fact, I overslept, and it felt good. The morning was sunny and birds were singing.

I made my way downstairs to the kitchen after splashing and combing myself into shape and raiding Shadow for fresh slacks and a shirt. There was a note on the kitchen table. I was tired of fording notes, but this one was from Bill, saying he'd had to run into town to his office for a while and I should go ahead and help myself to anything that looked good for breakfast. He'd be back a little later.

I checked out the refrigerator and came up with some English muffins, a piece of cantaloupe and a glass of orange juice. Some coffee I'd started first thing was ready shortly after I finished, and I took a cup with me out onto the porch.