way.'
'At the Taj?'
'Probably,' I said.
'Don't overeat and get logy,' she said.
I grinned silently.
'I'll be careful,' I said.
'When do you suppose he'll have enough foreplay,' Susan said.
'Same as everybody,' I said. 'When consummation becomes irresistible.'
'I know the feeling,' Susan said. 'In a different context.'
'Yes,' I said.
'I hope to experience it soon again,' she said.
'I'll do my very best to survive,' I said.
'Call me when you can,' she said.
After we hung up, I wandered to the front window and looked down at Marlborough Street. Stephano was there, under a streetlight, leaning against a car. There were three other men with him. Stephano was smoking. All of them were looking up at my apartment.
I opened the window and leaned out.
'Can you guys do harmony on 'Old Gang of Mine'?' I said.
They looked up at me silently.
'How about 'Danny Boy'? 'Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey'?'
Silence.
'Want me to lead?' I said. ' 'Up a Lazy River'? You know that one?'
Nobody said anything; nobody moved except Stephano, who took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly.
'Aw, you're no fun,' I said, and closed the window.
I checked the lock on the front door, set the security alarm, and went to bed with a gun on my bedside table. There have been nights when I've slept better.
56
WHEN Z ARRIVED in the morning, I was showered and shaved and dressed for work. I had the little .38 in an ankle holster, and my new .40 S&W semiautomatic on my right hip. I still had the Browning nine-millimeter, but I kept it locked in the hall closet, as a spare.
Last night's quartet was no longer in front of my house, and we saw nothing of them as we walked to the Taj, but as we ate near the window on Newbury Street, Stephano stood outside and looked at us through the window. I smiled and shot him with my forefinger. He showed no reaction, and after a time, he walked away.
Z stared at the empty window for a time. Then he looked at me.
'You know,' he said, 'this is kind of fun.'
'Except if we get killed,' I said.
'But if we didn't run that risk,' Z said, 'what would be the fun?'
'Christ,' I said. 'A philosopher.'
'Well, it's true. I mean, how exciting would this be if the winner got to capture the fucking flag? You know?'
'You played capture the flag?'
'Indian school,' he said. 'When I was little.'
' 'Death is the mother of beauty,'' I said.
'What the hell does that mean?' Z said.
'Pretty much what you're talking about,' I said. 'It's from a poem.'
'Oh,' Z said. 'That's why there's the part about beauty.'
'You sure you weren't an English major at Cal Wesleyan?'
'Football,' Z said. 'What's that about death and beauty?'
'If there were no death, how valuable would life be?'
'Yeah,' Z said. 'Like supply and demand.'
'It is,' I said. 'You got a weapon?'
'Got the .357,' Z said. 'And a bowie knife.'
