Garrett. They come from North Reservoir Hill. Priam Street. West Bacon. Around there.”
I understood. They hadn’t come south on a lark. I hadn’t been a target of opportunity.
I got that chill between my shoulders again.
Morley sanded what he’d written, folded it, dashed something on the outside, then handed it to Slade. Slade looked at it, nodded, and walked out. Morley said, “If I was you, Garrett, I’d go home and bar my doors and sit tight with the Dead Man.”
“Probably a good idea.”
We both knew I wouldn’t. What if word got around that Garrett could be pushed?
Morley said, “I don’t keep up with street gangs. There’re too many of them. But the Vampires have been making a name. Getting ambitious. Snowball wants to be top chuko, captain of captains... Excuse me.”
His speaking tube was making noises. He picked it up. “I’m listening.” He held it to his ear. Then, “Send him up.” He looked at me. “You leave a broad trail. Pokey Pigotta is here looking for you.”
8
Pokey wandered in looking like a living skeleton. Morley said, “Plant yourself, Pokey,” and gave him that look he gives when he’s planning a new diet for someone. Part of Morley believes there’s no problem that can’t be solved by upping your intake of green leafies and fiber. He was certain we could achieve peace in our time if we could just get everybody to stop eating red meat. I asked, “You looking for me?” “Yes. I have to give you your money back. I can’t do the job.”
Pokey refusing work? “How come?” “Got a better offer to do something that’s more interesting, and I can’t handle both jobs. You want to farm it out to Saucerhead? I’ll give you what I got. For nothing.”
“You’re a prince. You doing anything, Saucer-head?” He wasn’t the best man for the job but what could I do? Pokey had set me up.
“Give me the skinny,” Saucerhead said. “I ain’t buying no pig in a poke.” He was suspicious because Pokey wanted out.
I gave him what I’d given Pokey, word for word. Pokey gave me my retainer, said, “I cased the area but didn’t make contact with the principal. The building is being watched, front and rear, by nonprofessionals. I assume the principal is their target, though the building contains nine other apartments. There’s a caretaker who lives in the basement. The tenants are all single women. The watchers left when it got dark. They went to the Blue Bottle, where they share a third-floor room as Smith and Smith. Once it was apparent they were off duty and were not going to be replaced, I went home. I found my new client waiting.”
Pokey described Smith and Smith, who sounded like your basic nondescript working stiffs.
“I can handle it, Garrett,” Saucerhead said. “If you don’t want to keep it for yourself.”
I handed him the retainer. “Take care of the woman.”
Pokey said, “That takes care of my business. I’d better go. I want to get an early start.”
Morley grunted a farewell. He was changing. He ached to give Pokey some wholesome dietary advice, for his own good, but he bit his tongue.
What the hell? The world wouldn’t be half as interesting if Morley changed that much.
When just the two of us were left, he looked at me. “You’re really not into anything?”
“Promise. Cross my heart.”
“I never saw anyone like you, Garrett. I don’t know anybody else who could have chukos come all the way from the North End to whack him for taking a walk.”
That bothered me, too. It looked like I’d have to go to work whether I liked it or not. And it would be a double not. I make a lousy client. “Maybe they heard where I was headed.”
“What?”
“They might have gotten carried away by compassion for my stomach.”
“Stuff it, Garrett. I don’t need the aggravation.”
“Testy, eh? Maybe cold turkey on everything isn’t the way to go.”
“Maybe not.”
Puddle lurched in before we got going good. “Nothing but