Two Songs This Archangel Sings

forward to meeting Mr. Kendry. I've heard a great deal about him.'

'I'd love to have you meet him, pal. You may be bigger than he is, but he's better. He'll shove your head up your ass.'

The big man laughed. 'Spoken like a loyal friend.'

'You expect me to play Twenty Questions? Give me the name of the cretin.'

'I think not.'

'Why the hell not?! Why should you play games with me? You say you want to find Veil, fine. You want me to get to the end of the trail, fine. Help me. The name of the man who wants Veil dead is the key to the box of secrets Veil wants me to open.'

The big man shook his head. 'What you say is probably true, but knowing the name would only be another distraction.'

'Let me be the judge of that. Just give me the Goddamn name.'

'No.'

'Damn it, that's insane!'

'Frederickson, there's absolutely no doubt in my mind that, if I gave you the name, you'd go after that man instead of tracking Kendry. That would accomplish nothing, except to quickly get you killed for your efforts. If you're killed, then Kendry will abandon the game and simply do what he could have done in the beginning-hunt the cretin himself. Kendry could get to the man and kill him, but not without being killed, or captured, himself. That scenario is not at all in my interest.'

'What the hell are you talking about? You want Veil dead; according to you, that's how he'd end up. What other interests do you have? What the hell difference does it make to you what I do with the information you give me?'

'It's not important, Frederickson. Don't worry about anything but following the trail Kendry has laid out for you.'

'Some trail. Why the hell did you kill Po? He could have given me a lot of the information I need.'

'I was asked to kill the man, and I was paid my fee.'

'You afraid you're not going to get your money if somebody else kills Veil?'

'No. I have already been paid my full fee. But I take pride in my work, and I have a certain reputation to uphold if I expect to continue being paid my customary fees in advance. The kinds of people who hire me listen to reports of how assignments like this are carried out.'

'Then it's future earnings you're worried about?'

'Now I think you're beginning to understand. I don't want anyone else doing my job for me.'

'All right, if you won't give me the man's name, at least tell me why it's so important to him to have Veil killed. What does Veil have on him?'

'I haven't the slightest idea.'

'You're full of shit.'

'It's the truth. I really don't know what the man's problem with Kendry is, and I don't care. For me, it would be irrelevant information. My only concern is with finding and killing Mr. Kendry.'

'And, I assume, Garth and me when this is over?'

'The cretin doesn't need me for that, Frederickson. He can have the two of you killed any time he pleases-the reason, as I said, why you have to keep moving, so as to demonstrate to him your usefulness to me.'

Suddenly there was the sound of sirens, very close. The big man straightened up, then reached down and lifted me to my feet by the back of my parka. The feeling in my legs was returning now, and I was able to shuffle along as the big man guided me firmly across the parking area and into a copse of trees, heading toward the street.

'You're walking on the edge of a razor, Frederickson,' the man continued. 'Obviously, the cretin will not tolerate you learning too much-the reason he had me kill Po before you could talk to him.

I'd much prefer that he continue to let you live, but he could change his mind at any time. Watch yourself.'

'Your concern is touching.'

'What can I say? I find I rather like you.'

'The information I have doesn't mean anything unless I get this man's name to go along with it!' I said, thoroughly frustrated.

'Just keep going, Frederickson. And don't forget that I'll kill your brother if I think you're jerking me around.'

The big man pushed me into a row of bushes on the edge of the sidewalk just as two Fort Lee police cars, sirens screaming and lights flashing, went speeding up the access road into the park. An officer who had unhooked the chain got into a third car, raced after his colleagues.

'You're just chasing after your own death, pal,' I said as I was lifted by the back of my parka out onto the sidewalk. 'I'm betting Veil knows you're on his trail, looking for him.'

'That may be.'

'If and when Veil does choose to come out in the open, the very first thing he'll probably do is kill you.'

'Good hunting, Frederickson.'

The big man tossed me back into the bushes, and I momentarily lost sight of him. By the time I extricated myself and looked around for him, he was gone.

12

When I came marching into Garth's station house an hour later, a lot of heads turned in my direction. I knew a number of the detectives and uniformed officers, but no one said a word to me; they just stared.

'Well, well, well,' Garth said in a dry tone that failed to hide the relief he obviously felt at seeing me alive. His flesh was pale under its greenish pallor, and there were dark rings of weariness and worry-and possibly sickness- under his eyes. His shirt was stained with perspiration. 'It seems you're not at the bottom of the Husdon River after all. A minor errand?'

'Ah, you've heard,' I said, going directly to the coffeepot on a warmer standing in a corner of his office. I poured myself a cup of the brackish-looking brew, grimaced when I tasted it.

'The NYPD has heard a lot of things, and we're trying to sort out what it means. About three hours ago we got a call from some guy on the street claiming that a dwarf, of all people, wearing a brown parka just like yours, of all things, had just stolen a Con Ed van from in front of the apartment building where you and I currently reside, of all places. How about that?'

'Will wonders never cease? Listen, if that van is really registered to Con Ed, I pledge to personally paddle my way to the bottom of the river and bring it back up.' I took a slip of paper out of my pocket, tossed it on the desk. 'Here's the plate number.'

'What happened to your coat, Mongo? That looks like a knife cut.'

'Something like that. While you're checking the registration, see if you can find out which city official or agency issued the work permit for that location; ask for a copy of the papers.'

Garth gave a curt nod, picked up his telephone. While my brother spoke with Motor Vehicles, I sipped at my coffee and stared at the front page of the newspaper on Garth's desk. The photograph of Liu Sakh Po, head askew, stared back at me. Again, I had the haunting feeling that there was something important in the picture that I was missing.

'There's no such registration,' Garth said as he hung up the phone and tossed the slip of paper into the wastebasket. 'Not for Con Ed, or any other vehicle. It doesn't surprise me. I called Con Ed right after we got the report of a stolen van, and they told me all their vehicles were accounted for. Also, there's no record of a work permit being issued for that site.'

'That doesn't surprise me.'

'In the beginning, before we heard about the van going off the Palisades, a few of the cops around here