Страница 49 из 71
She is everything Dugan says she is, but Dugan does not say the half of it. He never mentions the cold reptilian eyes, the pointed ears, the reticulated greenish skin, or the four-inch dewclaws on each of her ankles. She offers us the kind of smile healthy cats offer to three-legged mice, and I can see that her tongue is black and forked.
"Hello, Mr. Dugan," she says, and her voice does not improve with proximity. "How nice to see you again."
"You are even more beautiful than before," replies Dugan, and Be
"Who are your friends?" asks A
"This is Harry the Book, my sometimes employer," says Dugan before I can whisper to him to make up a name, "and these are Be
"And what are you gentlemen here for?" she asks.
"It is Harry's fault," Dugan blurts out, so I figure I had better explain the situation.
"It would appear that Dugan, with the best will in the world, gives you a little keepsake that is not his to give," I say.
"I am just as happy to accept it from you, Harry," she says with a smile that makes me want to turn and race for the door and not stop ru
"I will handle this, Harry," says Milton, stepping forward. "Miss Conda, charming and beautiful as you are, I am afraid I must insist that you return the three large to Harry, though you can keep a couple of Ben Franklins for your trouble."
"It was given to me in all earnestness, and I am not inclined to give it back," she says, and I notice that blue vapor is starting to pour out of her nose, which means that either she is losing her temper or perhaps her spleen has spontaneously combusted, and I will give heavy odds on the former.
"Then I am afraid I shall have to resort to stringent means of recovering it," says Milton.
"You do that," says A
"Very well," says Milton. "Do not say that you weren't warned."
And with that, Milton begins chanting something in a forgotten language, and making gestures in the air, and otherwise conjuring up all of the black arts at his command, and finally he ends it with a cry of "presto!"—and suddenly there are only four of us facing A
"Where did he go?" asks Gently Gently.
"Beats me," I say.
"Get me the hell out of here!" says Milton's voice.
I look around, but there is no sign of him.
"Get you out of where?" I ask.
"This damned dimension that she hurls me into," says Milton's voice. "And hurry! It is cold and there is something very big sniffing at me and drooling on my face."
"I do not know how to magic you back," I say. "After all, you are the mage."
"Reach out and grab my hand, of course," says Milton.
"Reach where}" I say.
"Out!" yells Milton.
I reach my hand out, and sure enough a pudgy invisible hand takes hold of it. I give it a pull, and suddenly there is a pop! and then Milton is standing next to me, looking both relieved and a
He stares at A
"I need no protector," answers A
"I can believe it," says Be
"Enough of this chitchat," I say. "I still want my money."
Dugan walks over and stands next to A
"Actually, she is more the love of your death," Gently Gently points out.
"Whatever she is," I say, "I am not inclined to supply her with a dowry one hour after collecting it from Long-shot Lamont." I turn to her. "I hope you and Dugan will be very happy, and can find a hotel that caters to both of whatever you are, and I will even pop for a flimsy nightgown if you are going to tie the knot, but I still want my three large."
"And if I do not agree to part with it, will you put a hit out on Dead End Dugan?" she asks with a cold reptilian smile, and I have to admit that the idea of putting out a hit on a dead man can best be called counterproductive.
"Milton," I say, "have you got any other tricks up your sleeve?"
"He has nothing up his sleeve except his arm," says A
"Did you do Chernobyl, too?" asks Be
"I am sure I will love her, too," says Dugan. No sooner do the words leave his mouth than A
"I am sorry," says A
"To say nothing of 'cataclysmic' and 'catastrophic' and a lot of other words that begin with 'cat,'" I agree.
"I see your friend is sprawled out on the floor," she says, indicating Gently Gently. "I hope I did not do him irreparable damage."
"If he can survive eighty-seven million calories," I say as Be
"Where am I?" mumbles Gently Gently. "Are we at war? What day is it? Wait! I have it! Flyaway won and the world came to an end!"
"You'll be all right," I say. "Just stand there and try not to think."
"That should be very easy for him," says Be
A
"While those are words I have been longing to hear," answers Dugan, "the part about cherishing our relationship, not the part about Harry's money, I am mildly surprised as our total time spent in each other's company has been only ten minutes, give or take."
"That is about seven minutes longer than most of my relationships last," says A
She goes into one of the back rooms, and Be
"I would be very careful with this girl," he says confidentially. "For example, when she suggests you go out for a bite, I will give plenty of eight-to-five that she is not talking about patronizing a restaurant."
A
"That is not necessary," I tell her. "Dugan would never cheat me, and if you would I prefer not to know about it, because then I will not have to do anything about it."
She gives me another of those smiles that are more frightening that a Gorgon's grimace. "You are wise beyond your years, Harry the Book."
"And you are formidable beyond yours, A
As we are leaving, Be
And that is the story of Dead End Dugan's very special girl. I suppose their relationship was doomed from the start. I know that opposites attract, but there is nothing in the rule book about anyone quite as opposite as Dugan and A