He turned back to the boy and said: “How d’you feel now? The pain control working all right?”
“Oh sure,” Lenny assured him. “It was never bad. I felt a little spaced out after the fight—floating, you know. Soon as I got here they shot me up with something real good. Don’t even feel dreamy now. Sharp as a tack.”
“What kind of business?” Diana repeated frostily.
“Come on, Di,” Madoc said. “We’re here to see Lenny. The boy took an awkward cut. We can talk about our own things later.”
“No,” said Lenny helpfully. “You go ahead. You can talk about Damon all you want—I got all his tapes, you know.”
Of course I know, you stupid little shit, Madoc thought. Aloud, he said: “He just wanted me to ask around about some things. We’re still friends—we do little favors for one another occasionally. It’s . . .” He stopped himself saying a personal thing, because he knew that Diana would misinterpret it. She misinterpreted it anyhow.
“ Little favors,” she repeated. “Little favors of the kind that you weren’t supposed to mention to me.”
“No, Di,” Madoc said with a contrived sigh. “Actually, it’s not to do with you. Something’s happened to one of his foster fathers, that’s all. The Eliminators may be involved, although it seems to be a kidnap rather than a murder. He just asked me to ask around, see if anyone knew who might have made the snatch or why.”
Madoc could see that Diana was having trouble remembering whether she’d ever been told who Damon’s foster parents were, but Lenny Garon had no such difficulty. Lenny was a fan, and fans liked to know everything that could be known about their heroes.
“There’s no public record of Damon’s foster parents,” the boy piped up. “I checked . . . a while ago.”
“That’s because he didn’t like to talk about them,” Diana said, her wrath dying back into icy frustration. “Madoc is his friend, though. It’s only natural that Madocknows who they were.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Madoc said, because he felt obliged to try. “This stuff is confidential, okay?”
“It’s notokay,” Diana said. “You’re supposed to be myfriend right now, and I don’t like the idea of your going behind my back like this—seeing Damon and not even telling me. They were biotech people, weren’t they? Damon’s foster parents, that is. He fell out with them because they wanted him to go into the same line of work.”
“That’s right,” Madoc said. “But it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care what happens to them. I just have to make some inquiries, see what I can find out.”
“Can I help?” Lenny wanted to know.
“No,” said Madoc. “Nor can you, Diana. It’s best if I handle it myself.”
“Just because I fell out with him,” Diana was quick to retort, with manifest sarcasm, “it doesn’t mean that I don’t care what happens to him. He’s in some kind of trouble, isn’t he?”
“No,” Madoc said automatically.
“Is he?” Lenny asked curiously. It was obvious to Madoc that his blunt denial had been read as a tacit admission, even by the boy.
“Not exactly,” Madoc said, immediately retreating to what he hoped was a tenable position. “It’s just Eliminator shit. It means nothing. It’s not even Damon they’re after. Look, can we just let it drop, for now? Damon wouldn’t want me to talk about it here. Hospital walls have more eyes and ears than most.”
That argument was sufficient to make Lenny Garon back off, but it had the opposite effect on Diana.
“I want to know what’s going on,” she said ominously. “I have a rightto know. You were the one who saved the news until we were here.”
“If you hadn’t walked out when you did,” Madoc told her waspishly, “you wouldknow what’s going on. You’d still have been there when the cops came to call.”
“All the more reason why you should have told me,” she said. “All the more reason why you should tell me now.”
Madoc raised his eyes to heaven. “Not here,” he said. “Lenny, I’m really sorry about all this. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”
“You just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t about to quit on you when he realized how dangerous your little games can be,” Diana came back maliciously. “You have to be careful choosing your so-called friends, Lenny. Some of them only want to jerk your strings. People die in those backstreets, you know—far more than Eliminators ever kill. Whatever kind of trouble Damon thinks he’s in is nothing compared to the trouble you’rein. Always remember—Damon got outof your line of work and took up making pornypops and phone link frippery. That’s the example to bear in mind.”
“She’s right, Lenny,” Madoc said, having been given ample time to replan his strategy while the vitriol was pouring out. “Damon got out, and you should aim to get out too—but Damon didn’t get out until he’d made his mark. He went out a winner, not a quitter. You can be a winner too, Lenny, if you stick at it.”
“I know that,” the boy in the bed assured him. “I know I can.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Diana disgustedly. “You’ve checked your investment, and it seems to be in working order. They’ll let him go home tonight, if he insists.”
“I’m sorry, Lenny,” Madoc said. “Diana’s under a lot of strain just now. I shouldn’t have brought her with me.” Maybe I shouldn’t have let her through the door, he added beneath his breath, and maybe I shouldn’t let her in again—except that she might be more of a nuisance out of my sight than she will be where I can keep an eye on her. He followed her out of the room and along the corridor to the elevator.
Diana didn’t say a word until they were back in the car, but she didn’t waste any time thereafter. When he took the controls himself she actually lifted his hands from the keypad and switched on the AP, instructing it to take them home.
“What’s going on?” she wanted to know.
“Damon got a visit from the cops after you left,” he said. “Interpol, not his old friends from the LAPD. They wanted to know if he knew anything that could help them find his foster father. He didn’t so he asked me if I could use my contacts to find out anything. I’m trying to do that. That’s all.”
“Where do the Eliminators come in? They don’t dokidnappings.”
“They may have done this one. About the time the foster father went missing some crazy posted a notice about Damon’s biological father.”
“I didn’t know that Damon knew who his biological father was, or that he cared. I don’t even know the name of mine—do you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do know my biological father’s name, although it was never a matter of great interest to me. Damon’s case is different—but he didn’t like to talk about it. I guess he wanted to keep all that stuff from cluttering up his relationship with you.”
“I guess he did,” she said bitterly. “If he hadn’t been so determined to keep his stupid secrets, maybe . . . .”
“Maybe nothing,” Madoc said wearily. “It’s over—let it go.”
“It’s over when it’s over,” she told him, trading cliché for cliché. “So tell me—who wasDamon’s biological father? I can find out on my own, you know—I’m no Webwalker, but it has to be a matter of record, if only someone can be bothered to look hard enough. Interpol must have made the connection.”
“It’s not exactly a matter of publicrecord,” said Madoc unhappily. He knew, though, that even a rank amateur like Diana could probably turn up the information eventually, if she had motive enough to try. Damon’s change of name wasn’t likely to confuse her for long. Anything Interpol could find out, anyone could find out—given a reason to make the effort.
“I have friends too,” she said firmly. “You know Webwalkers, I know Webwalkers. I bet you’ve asked that mad cow Tithonia to help out—but who needs her?Suppose Damon’s fanswere to find out that there’s a mystery which needs solving?”