cracked wood squeaked. Veil stopped and glanced at Toby, but the bushman was staring straight ahead, his face impassive. Veil applied sudden, intense pressure, and the plywood cracked apart. Toby shuddered slightly, but otherwise did not react.
Veil quickly pulled the jagged pieces of plywood from around the base, then reached inside the hollowed-out idol. He pulled out three plastic bags, each one slightly larger than his fist. Two of the bags were intact, but the heroin in the third was trickling from a small gash in the plastic, caused by a plywood splinter. Veil pinched the bag closed, then set it down on the floor next to the others. 'There it is,' he said quietly. 'That's what all the shooting is about.'
Reyna whistled softly. 'Pure white heroin. There must be enough junk there to supply all the city's addicts for a year.'
'Does it bother you, Reyna?'
'No,' Reyna answered evenly. 'There's no craving. All that happened to me . . . it's like it happened to another person, in another lifetime.'
Veil took out his handkerchief and poured some of the heroin from the broken bag into it. 'You'd better save this for Toby,' he said, holding the handkerchief out to Reyna. 'He'll need it.'
Reyna studied Toby's face for a few moments, finally shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'He won't need it.'
'He's in a lot of pain, Reyna, and we may have to move fast. He's an addict now, and he'll start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if he doesn't get it. This doesn't seem like the time to expect him to kick the habit cold turkey.'
Reyna turned to Toby, spoke in K'ung. 'Veil has said that you are a great warrior—but he does not yet fully understand how great. He thinks that you still need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk, but I know you do not. You are with us now, and you no longer have need of the blood-shilluk. Your pain and sickness will still be great, but now the Nal-toon asks you to bear the pain without the great gift. Can you do this?'
'Why do you insult me?' Toby replied, looking away.
'He'll do without the heroin, Veil.'
'Reyna—'
'He'll do without it,' Reyna repeated in a firm voice. 'He has to get off it sometime, so he may as well start now. Besides, I assume you don't want him spaced-out.'
'I don't want him in pain,' Veil said, folding the handkerchief and placing it next to the plastic bags.
'He'll be all right, Veil. What happens now?'
'First I want to say something,' Veil said, reaching out and squeezing Reyna's hand. 'You put up a good front, but I know what it cost you to go out there alone. Carl Nagle's out there someplace waiting for us—and you know it. I just want to say that I think you're one hell of a woman.'
Reyna smiled. 'Why, thank you, sir.'
'I have to leave for a little while. I will be careful. I'll be back, and I'll try not to take too long.'
'All right,' Reyna answered in a small voice.
'Just in case, you have the telephone numbers for—'
'I don't want to know about any 'just in case,' Veil. You make sure you come back.'
Veil picked up the broken plastic bag and put it in his jacket pocket. 'See you later,' he said, and slipped out into the night.
Chapter Seventeen
'Hey, you.'
Veil watched as the man started, then quickly turned and nervously peered into the darkness.
'That's right, you!'
This time the man drew a gun from a shoulder holster and pointed it over the stone wall separating the sidewalk from the cemetery. 'Who's there?!'
'Just stand still and listen,' Veil said softly. 'Do what I say, and you could end up with more money than you'll know how to spend.'
The man grunted angrily, put one hand on top of the stone wall, and vaulted over it into the darkness beyond. He landed on an incline and cursed as he fell. However, he was a lithe, agile man and was almost immediately up on his feet, running toward the spot from where he thought the voice had come. There was no one there. He searched the surrounding area as best he could in the moonlight but still found no one. He listened, gun held ready, but could hear only the sound of his own, slightly nasal breathing.
'Okay,' the man said through clenched teeth as he slowly turned. 'I'm listening.'
Veil let the man wait. Ten minutes went by before the man cursed under his breath, turned, and walked back the way he had come. He was back at his post on the sidewalk when Veil spoke again.
'Hey, you, dummy. You almost blew it, pal. I picked you because you looked fairly bright. It just goes to show that looks can be deceiving. I want you to stand still and listen. A few minutes of your time could be worth millions to you. If you're not interested, I'll go talk to somebody with more brains. I know there are at least a half dozen of you guys hanging around.'
'I'm listening. What's this about millions?'
'What's your name?'
'Sloane,' the man said after some hesitation.
'All right, Sloane—'
'You Kendry?'
'First go up the block and tell your buddy that you have to take a crap or something. You have to come with me for a few minutes, and everything will be explained to you. If you try to tip off your buddy—if anyone tries to follow us in—you've blown it. Just keep thinking of what you could do with a few million dollars.'
'Okay,' Sloane mumbled. 'Don't go away.'
'Just remember to do exactly as I said.'
As Sloane walked away, Veil moved silently through the trees and underbrush on a parallel course. He listened to the exchange between the two gunmen, then moved back with Sloane.
'I did it,' Sloane said to the darkness beyond the wall. 'What now?'
'Throw your gun over the wall.'
'Hey, now, hold on a second!'
'You don't want to do it, don't. I'm gone.'
'Okay!'
'Keep your voice down. And move slowly. You're going to be a rich man if you keep your cool, Sloane, but you'd better make up your mind. You told your buddy you'd be back in ten minutes.'
Sloane withdrew his gun from its holster, tossed it over the wall.
'Now you come over. Easy does it. Move off to your left.'
Sloane did as he was told. He'd gone about fifteen yards into the cemetery when Veil suddenly appeared in front of him. Sloane stopped walking and stared at the muzzle of his own gun, which was pointing at his chest.
'You are Veil Kendry, aren't you?'
'Yes.'
'Nagle talks a lot about you,' Sloane said with a crooked smile. 'I'm waiting to hear what you have to say, Kendry.'
'Don't be impatient. Keep moving to your left, but stay inside the trees. Watch how you walk. You attract any attention with those big feet of yours, and I disappear.'
Sloane squinted in the smoky air and grunted. In the dim, flickering light of the small fire he could just make out the objects of Nagle's hunt. The woman and the African. The idol.
'Here, catch,' Veil said as he perfunctorily tossed the torn plastic bag at Sloane. Startled, the man juggled the bag in the semidarkness. White powder floated in the air, then slowly drifted down to the ground. 'That's pure heroin. Check it out for yourself.'
Sloane's hand trembled as he put a thumb and forefinger through the tear in the plastic, pinched some
