Bone Dance

But Theo’s mind was elsewhere. “We gotta do this on attitude,” he continued. “Think Mel Gibson in Monte Cristo.”

“Sure. Could we also do it on paranoid willingness to hit anything that moves with the nearest heavy object?”

“I’ve got no problem with that.”

Theo, my patron saint may have killed your father. If so, I made it possible. I didn’t say it. It wouldn’t have helped.

Theo stopped halfway down the hall and set his hand on a doorknob. He glanced up at me; for a moment I thought he’d speak. Then the moment was gone, and he opened the door.

There was a lamp lit on the nightstand, and a bulky figure on the bed; there was the sound of harsh, irregular breathing. It was Albrecht, gray-ski

I couldn’t find any resemblance between Theo and his father. Maybe he looked like his mother. That would be interesting, to be able to see your nose on someone else’s face, and know it was only the outward sign of an interior co

I heard something click to my right and looked up. Dusty, my nemesis from the Night Fair and the Underbridge, stood in the co

I stood very still at the foot of the bed. LeRoy’s injection and a bolt of fear combined to make a buzzing noise in my head. I waited for a sign from heaven.

Theo hadn’t moved, either. His back was to the co

“God damn it,” Theo said, heated and drawling, still facing the bed, “I thought I told you to watch him!”

My teeth snapped closed, an involuntary motion. I knew that voice.

Dusty’s head turned, just a little, and he frowned. “Boss?”

Theo scowled over his shoulder. “What the fuck were you doin’? How long has he been like this?”

There was a little of the bad truck driver from Rainbow Express in it, and some of Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider. But it was mostly the voice of Tom Worecski. Monte Cristo, indeed, Theo. But it would only buy a few minutes, nothing else.

“Like what?” said Dusty. He took a step closer, and the gun barrel wavered.

“If he dies, I’m go

Dusty was still frowning. “What happened upstairs? And who’s that with you?”

A muscle stood out in Theo’s jaw. “You go

It wasn’t quite right, and I thought Theo knew it. Did Dusty?

He lowered the gun. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, and went out into the hall. Theo let his breath out.

From the hallway door, I heard Dusty say softly, “Hey, So

I heard three shots as Theo knocked me down from behind. Dusty wavered in the doorway and dropped the gun. I saw his face, an interesting mix of bafflement and a

Myra Kincaid now stood at the door to the next room. She wore a raincoat loosely belted over, I suspected, nothing, and her dark cherry hair fell untidily in her eyes. She looked relaxed, half awake, and held a pistol in a negligent grip, settling as I watched to point at the floor. Santos, I thought, with an upwelling of hysteria, where were they finding all these damned handguns?

“My brother was a mad dog,” she said. “But I expect I’ll miss him, anyway.” She sounded appallingly like Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind. “Tom’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I said before Theo could perjure himself. I slid out from under him, and he sat up with a lurch. I got to my feet and managed not to sway too much. The pain in my shoulder was like a blunt-ended hammer that shook my whole body, and it felt as if adrenaline had raised blisters on my nerve endings. But all the while, my eyes never left Myra. The gun made her master of the room; she didn’t behave as if she knew it. “I hope you don’t feel you have to avenge him.”

“If Tom couldn’t kill you, I surely couldn’t. Dusty, not being very bright, hadn’t figured that out.”

I

“Worecski’s gone,” I said at last, “and Albrecht’s finished. The market for bravos and assassins just dried up. Where will you go now?”

Her eyelids lifted a fraction. “You’ll let me go?”

Attitude, I thought, gathered mine around me, and replied, “I think you’d better.”

“I want safe conduct.”

Good grief, who did she think I was? What did she think was happening here? “Going fast will be just as effective. Never coming back will be even more so.”

Myra shook her head and smiled. “I’ll do that. Honey, you haven’t got a clue, have you?”

“I beg your pardon?” I asked with an effort.

“That’s all right — it works anyway. But if I’d known you were one of hers, I wouldn’t have had shit to do with this. That was another thing Dusty wasn’t too bright about. ’Course, neither was Tom. I wonder what would have happened if I’d let Dusty pull that trigger.”

I understood, at last. I was alive, and Tom was dead; so I must have killed him. If I could do that, I was too dangerous to challenge. Myra had given me her brother in exchange for her life, and was impressed by my mercy. I had a strong desire to go away and be sick. “You’d better leave now,” I said.

She nodded and dropped the gun in a pocket of the raincoat. For a moment she froze, her hand in the pocket. Then she lifted her head. Her face seemed harder and older, and her lips were twisted and pouting, even as they smiled. Her eyes were rolled back and showed nothing but white.

“Tell my fierce and virtuous sister,” said a dense, caressing contralto through Myra’s mouth, “that Pombagira sends her congratulations. And reminds her that she could not have done it without me.”

Myra Kincaid and the spirit that rode her walked to the door, stepped over her dead brother’s legs, and was gone.

“Sparrow?” said Theo shakily from his place on the floor. “If anything like this comes up again, let’s split town, okay?”

“That’s a great idea. I wish you’d had it sooner.”

“It wouldn’t have worked this time.”

“You’re right.” I stumbled back against the bed and slid to the floor beside Theo. “Go tell Josh that as soon as he can spare the time from Frances, your father needs him. Hurry.”

My eyes were closed, but I could feel him crouched beside me, looking into my face. “What about you?”

“And when he’s done with everybody else, I could probably use a little help, too.”

I heard him run down the hall. Good. The rush was for Albrecht, though; I could have told Theo that I was in no danger. The fierce and virtuous sister still had a use for me.