Dead Mans Hand

Bre

"What you had to-"

"That's that," Bre

Ackroyd nodded, but gestured stubbornly with his bound hands. "I'm not saying anything tied up like this."

"All right." Bre

"My name," Bre

Ackroyd shrugged. "All right. Sascha gave it to me. He said he'd plucked it from Chrysalis's mind. Said you were probably involved in the murder, though I figure he was lying. Something had him really scared. Why all this mystery about your real identity, anyway? Other than the fact that you're wanted for multiple homicides, of course."

Bre

"You're wanted by the feds?"

"I deserted from the army. It's complicated and it doesn't have anything to do with Chrysalis's death. If she's really dead," Bre

"If?" Ackroyd said. "What do you mean `if? I found her body."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure? She was not merely dead, she was most sincerely dead."

Bre

"Look, are you crazier than I think, or what? I saw her-"

"And I heard her voice. Yesterday."

"What?" Ackroyd asked quietly.

"And I heard her voice today," Je

"I heard it, too," Ackroyd admitted quietly. Then he looked at Bre

"You're certain, one hundred percent certain, that it was Chrysalis in the coffin?"

"Do you know anyone else with invisible skin?" Ackroyd said. "It was her body I found. Besides, the wiseguy who called me had to be an imposter. She didn't know the, uh, real story of the relationship between me and Chrysalis and she was telling me all kinds of screwy stuff. Claimed you'd been captured by eskimos."

Bre

Ackroyd looked at him for a long moment before he spoke. "Suspects I got." He fished a sheet of paper out of the inside breast pocket of his battered jacket and handed it to Bre

Ackroyd nodded. "Those that are left. I crossed the others off because of my years of experience as a trained investigator and my keen insights into the human psyche."

"Hmmm," Bre

"You?"

"Don't look so surprised," Bre

"Okay." Ackroyd produced a pen and struck a line through Bludgeon's name. "I'll take your word for it. That still leaves us with four prime suspects."

Bre

"What about him?" Ackroyd asked.

Bre

" I thought about that already," Ackroyd interjected. "He likes to use his fangs, doesn't he?"

Bre

"But all of us heard him threaten Chrysalis," Je

"Right. And he is one of Kien's chief lieutenants, high in the Shadow Fist Society."

"Kien?" Ackroyd asked.

"Why don't you just leave Wyrm to me?" Bre

Ackroyd looked at him, shrugged. "Okay. You want the lizard, he's yours."

"What makes Quasiman a suspect?" Je

"And?" Bre

"And Chrysalis hired someone to do in the Bible thumper." Bre

"Reasonably. Elmo gave some hired muscle her order to make a hit on one of the politicos in Atlanta."

"Why?" Je

Ackroyd shrugged. "I'm not sure. Because she was afraid of Barnett's politics?"

Bre

"For what reason?" Je

"Ostensibly in case we run into the Oddity again."

"The Oddity?" Ackroyd echoed.

"I found him trashing Chrysalis's bedroom. He said that he was looking for something that Chrysalis was using to blackmail him. But I didn't buy it. Chrysalis never extorted money from anyone."

"You're right," Ackroyd said.

"That leaves just one name," Je

Ackroyd shook his head. "Beats me. Let me know if you find out."

"All right." Bre

"Yup. Except for a few questions."

"Like?"

"Like did you know that Chrysalis had taken up with Digger Downs?"

"Who's he?"

"He masquerades as a reporter for Aces magazine."

"I wouldn't know," Bre

Ackroyd nodded. "Elmo said she was desperate for info on you." He watched Bre

Ackroyd shrugged. "No. Not really. One last thing. What do you know about the Palace's neighbors?"

Bre

"That's right," Ackroyd said. "That's entirely right." Bre

"Just so you know," Ackroyd said as they stopped by the door. "I didn't pop you into the Tombs this time, but our next meeting will be an entirely new matter."

"Next time," Bre

"Good-bye," Je

Bre