53

It was my business. I'd been hired by Peridont and I'd made a point of claiming he was still my client, dead or not.

Maya was pleased. I wasn't so sure I was. It had started to snow earlier than I'd expected, heavier than I'd anticipated. The wind was nippy. If I'd let it go I'd be home, toasty warm, sipping a beer, wondering how I could get Dean out of the house and the Dead Man to go to sleep so Maya and I could...

We walked into a Tenderloin like a ghost town. The first snowfall always has that effect on TunFaire. Everyone gets in out of it and stays. We went around the side of the talk house, into the alley.

"Too late," Maya said. There were tracks in the snow on the steps to the second floor, downward bound.

"Maybe." I hustled upstairs, went inside, hurried along a hallway not unlike the one downstairs. One door stood open. I stuck my head in.

Jill's, all right. I recognized the clothing scattered around. It included what she'd worn to the festivities down south. I cursed and headed out.

Maybe I was a little loud. A door opened. The elfish woman Polly looked out. "What're you doing?" she asked.

I fell in love all over again. I gulped. "I came to tell you how much … I'd better go. I'm making a fool of myself." Not bad for off the cuff, Garrett. I got out.

I rejoined Maya. "She's gone. Let's get after her before her tracks disappear."

As we moved out I glanced up. The elfish woman was at the top of the steps looking down, wearing a puzzled smile.

Jill wasted no time but the snowfall betrayed her. We gained ground. Her tracks became fresher. The snowfall tapered off. Visibility improved. The street we were following entered a square. A figure shuffled across it ahead of us.

"That's an old woman," Maya said. "Look at her. She's old enough to be Hester's mother."

I could see that, just the way the woman moved. She wore a lot of black, the way old women do, and moved slowly. "Damn it!" How had I confused trails? I thought back.

I hadn't. This trail hadn't crossed any other. That woman was the one who had come out of the talk house. And she was carrying a bundle she hugged to her breast. "Come on." I began to trot.

The snow and wind muted our footsteps till we were a half-dozen yards from the woman.

She whirled.

No old woman moved like that.

"Hello, Jill."

She straightened up, stopped pretending. "Garrett."

Maya moved around to cut her off if she ran. I said, "I can't let you get away."

She sighed. "I know. That's the way you are." She shrugged. "I didn't think you'd catch on so quick."

"It was pure chance."

"Suppose I turned them over voluntarily? Would that be enough?"

"I don't think so. There's a saying. Any man's death diminishes me. You shouldn't have killed Agire. You didn't have to."

"I know. It was stupid. I did it without thinking. The opportunity was there and I grabbed it. I knew it was a mistake before he fell. But that's not something you can take back."

"Let's go." I believed her. Maya didn't. She stayed behind us throughout a walk all the way to the Dream Quarter. And as I walked beside Jill, in silence, shivering, I did a lot of reflecting, most of it on the fact that, though none had by my own hand, seven men had died the night we rescued Maya from the Orthodox complex. I could rationalize however I wanted but I was the guy who had taken Morley along.

As we approached the gate I told Jill, "Just hand them the casket. Don't say anything. Don't answer any questions."

She looked at me oddly, her eyes as old as she was dressed. And that's the way she did it. A guard came to see what she wanted. She pushed the casket into his hands and turned away, looked at me to see what next.

I said, "Good-bye," and walked into a quickening snowfall, holding Maya's arm. We pushed into the wind with our heads down and our cheeks biting cold, saying nothing. Crystals of ice formed at the corners of my eyes.


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