'Looks to me as though you're crazy, Matt. I tried to head you off the minute you came over here. Tried to cool you down some.'
'I know.'
'It's probably too late now. Whether I pass it on or not.'
'It was too late before then. I was uptown before I came down here. You know a man named Royal Waldron?'
'Sure, I know Royal.'
'He and I talked some. Royal's been known to do a little business with some fellows from Colombia.'
'He would,' Danny Boy said. 'The business he's in.'
'So they probably already know. But you could pass it on anyway, just for insurance.'
'Insurance,' he said. 'What's the opposite of life insurance?'
'I don't know.'
'Death insurance. They may be waiting outside for you right now, Matt.'
'It's possible.'
'Why don't you go pick up the phone and call the cops? They could send a car and you go somewhere and make a statement. Let the bastards earn their money.'
'I want the killer,' I said. 'I want him one-on-one.'
'You're not Latin. Where'd you get this macho hangup?'
'Just pass the word, Danny Boy.'
'Sit down a minute.' He leaned forward, dropped his voice. 'You don't want to walk out of here without a piece. Just sit here a minute and I'll get you something.'
'I don't need a gun.'
'No, of course not. Who needs one? You can take his machete away from him and make him eat it.
Then break both his legs and leave him in an alley.'
'Something like that.'
'Will you let me get you a gun?' His eyes searched mine. 'You've already got one,' he said. 'On you, right now. Haven't you?'
'I don't need a gun,' I said.
And I didn't. On the way out of the Top Knot I put my hand in my pocket and felt the butt and barrel of the little .32. Who needed it? A little gun like that doesn't have a whole lot of stopping power anyway.
Especially when you can't make yourself squeeze the trigger.
I went outside. It was still raining but no harder than before. I tugged the brim of my hat and took a good look around.
The Mercury sedan was parked on the other side of the street. I recognized it by its crimped fenders.
While I was standing there the driver started the engine.
I walked over to Columbus Avenue. While I waited for the light to change I saw that the Mercury had come around in a U-turn and was approaching. The light changed and I walked across the street.
I had the gun in my hand and my hand in my pocket. My index finger was on the trigger. I remembered how the trigger had trembled beneath my finger not too long ago.
I'd been on this same street then.
I walked on downtown. A couple of times I looked over my shoulder. The Mercury stayed a little less than a block behind me all the way.
I never relaxed, but I was especially tense when I got to the block where I'd drawn the gun once before.
I couldn't help looking back, expecting to see a car careening toward me. I spun around involuntarily once at the sound of brakes screeching, then realized the sound was a good two blocks away.
Nerves.
I passed the spot where I'd dropped to the pavement and rolled. I checked the place where the bottle had broken. There was still some broken glass there, though I couldn't be sure it was the same broken glass. A lot of bottles get broken every day.
I kept walking all the way to Armstrong's. When I got there I went in and ordered a piece of pecan pie and a cup of coffee. I kept my right hand in my pocket while my eyes scanned the room, checking everybody out. After I was done with the pie I put my hand back in my pocket and drank my coffee left-handed.
After awhile I ordered more coffee.
The telephone rang. Trina answered it, walked over to the bar.
There was a heavyset fellow there with dark blonde hair. She said something to him and he went to the phone. He talked for a few minutes, looked around the room, came over to my table. Both of his hands were where I could see them.
He said, 'Scudder? My name's George Lightner, I don't think we met.' He pulled a chair out and sat in it. 'That was Joe just now,' he said. 'There's no activity out there, nothing at all. They're laying doggo in the Mercury plus
