Sadler bent, stayed bent a long time, though Chodo's lips never moved. "Yes, sir. I'll tell him that, sir." He straightened. "Chodo says he has a job for you, Garrett. He wants you to find his daughter. He wants you to bring her home."

"The resources he has, he can't find her?"

"Not without everybody knowing he's looking."

Crask said, "He can't go looking himself, Garrett. That would be like admitting he can't control his own family."

Yeah. And folks might even wonder why she'd run away. "I see." I turned away, pretended to pace, finally stopped. "I can handle it. But I could use a little something to get started with. I mean, I don't even know her name, let alone anything about her."

"Belinda," Crask said, "She won't be using it."

Teach your mama to suck eggs, boy. "Belinda? You're kidding. Nobody's named Belinda anymore."

"After Chodo's old granny." The man didn't crack a smile. "She raised him up until he was old enough to run the streets."

Crask had a faraway look. I hoped he didn't wax nostalgic about the old days. Chodo had a decade on him, so they couldn't have run the bricks at the same time, but Crask and Sadler, like most of Chodo's inside boys, had come into the business from the streets, with time out for special education at Crown expense, in the University of the Cantard.

"I can handle it," I said again. I seldom demur when dealing with the kingpin face-to-face. A weakness of mine, being fond of breathing.

Sadler leaned down as though startled, listened. "Yes, sir. I'll see to it, sir." He straightened. "I've been instructed to advance you a hundred marks against your fees and expenses."

Maybe it was the season, all these people throwing money my way. "I'm on the job," I said. "Only I hope I don't have to walk ten miles home." Hint, hint. But I wouldn't press the issue. I wanted out of there bad. Soon. Before there was anything more.

42

I thought a lot during the ride home, concluded that finding beautiful Miss Belinda Contague might not be healthy.

Crask and Sadler might consider me disposable once they had her in hand, under control.

My disposability probably had plenty to do with why they had chosen this particular investigator to investigate. There was one fine chance they figured I knew too much already. In fact, just to be optimistic, I was going to count on that.

So the one thing I had going for me was the fact that I hadn't found the girl yet. As long as she stayed unfound, things would stay just dandy for me.

The more I thought, the more I was convinced I had to simplify my life. I didn't have enough eyes to watch all the directions I needed to watch.

Night fell before I got home. With the darkness came rain, surprising me I don't know why. Wasn't like it was something new.

I headed up the front steps wondering how I could find Belinda Contague without seeming to find her, before I weaseled out of my troubles with Crask and Sadler.

"Where have you been?" Dean demanded before the door opened wide enough to admit me.

"What are you, my mother? You think it's any of your business, you drop in while I'm explaining to His Nibs." I could maybe drop a few housekeeping hints while I was at that. Anything to get a little cleaning done in there without having to do it myself.

Dean read me like a book. He was old and slow but far from senile. He harrumphed, headed for the kitchen, but halted as he came abreast of my office doorway. "I nearly forgot. You have a guest. In the small front room."

"Oh?" A new cat, big enough to rip my leg off? Or Barking Dog on a midnight mission?... No. Amato would be across the way swapping insanities with the Dead Man. Evangelists?

Only one way to find out.

I opened the door.

Time passed. I finally came around when the woman cracked, "You like what you see? Or are you just a mouth breather?"

"Sorry. You weren't what I was expecting."

"Then put your eyes back in their sockets, Jocko. Why surprised?"

"Your father just drafted me to find you, Belinda. In his usual smooth-talking way, he offered me the job without giving me any chance to turn him down."

That shut her up. She stared.

"His driver just now dropped me off." 1 stared back. I liked what I saw. She didn't hurt the eyes at all. She still preferred black. She still looked good in black. "You look marvelous in black. Not many women wear it so well." She would look good in—or out of—anything. She had what it took, though I got the impression she was used to hiding it.

For the moment the cat had her tongue.

I wondered where Dean had the beast hidden.

Belinda didn't match the victim profile tonight. Her hair was short, black as a raven's wing, made more remarkable by the pallor of her skin and the brightness of her lip rouge. I wondered if the pale skin was a family look, if she would resemble her father in a few years. She looked pretty much the way she had at Morley's place and not much the way she had at Hullar's. At Hullar's, probably wearing a wig, she'd fit the profile perfectly.

They're a protean breed, women.

Oh, I love them, I do, I do, however they disguise themselves.

Belinda rose like she meant to make a run for it. "My father? My father is—"

"Your father is in less than total control of his faculties. His lieutenants—who hijacked me and dragged me out to the estate—made a big show of it being his idea. Oh. Excuse me. I'm Garrett. Dean said you wanted to see me. I'm glad, too. I've wanted to meet you since that night at the Joy House."

She looked puzzled. "The Joy House?" She edged sideways. She'd changed her mind about wanting to see me.

"Weeks back. In the Safety Zone? You ran in and stole my heart. Then some brunos tried to steal you. Remember? Big black coach. Old boy with green eyes and butterflies on his breath? Your basic every-night weird kidnapping upset when the gallant knight of the streets rescued the distressed damsel?"

"You've been dieting. You were four inches taller and sixty pounds heavier then."

"Ha. Ha. That was Saucerhead. He used to be my buddy. He helped me a little. My heart was broken when you didn't stick around long enough to say thanks."

"Thanks, Garrett. You're blocking the doorway."

"No shit? You're quick. I told Saucerhead you'd be quick. I told everyone you'd be sharp. Is that a problem? Me not moving? I thought you wanted to see me."

"That was before you told me you work for the ugly twins."

"Did I say that? I didn't say that. I couldn't have said that. I have a long-standing reputation for refusing to work for them or your father—though I might let one or the other labor under the misapprehension." I tried my famous boyish grin, guaranteed to set any girl's little heart going pitty-pat.

"Stow the bullshit, Garrett. Let me out of here."

"I don't think so."

"You're not dragging me off to the uglies."

"No way. Why would I do that? My life wouldn't be worth two coppers if I did."

"Mine either. Mine especially. I don't really know about yours. Let me out of here."

"Not till I hear why you came."

"Doesn't matter now. You aren't the guy I need."

"Because I know Crask and Sadler?" I shrugged as though trying to shake off a broken heart. "Can't win them all. But you are the girl I need. I've been looking for you for weeks."

"Why?"

"It's about the people that tried to snatch you. You're their only target that got away."

She got real pale. That wasn't the reaction I'd expected. She asked, "What do you mean?"

"You've heard rumors about the killer who strings girls up and guts them?"

"I've heard talk. I didn't pay much attention."

"That's funny. I would've paid a lot of attention after somebody almost dragged me off."