NO Quarter by Robert Asprin

Author:Robert Asprin [Asprin, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DarkStar Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It all came out, the night’s events, full disclosure, and Alex made herself very clear. I had told her about the hunt the day before. Now she was telling me.

“In on it?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes pinned to mine.

We were sitting on the couch. I’d come out of the cab, up the stairs, and found her waiting in my apartment—she’d had a key since Sunshine and I had taken her in. Booboo was waiting, too, looking at me intently with green eyes. She wanted mostly to sniff at the boots I’d pulled off my sore feet.

Booboo hadn’t liked Alex’s sharp tone. Neither had I, since I wasn’t giving her an argument; saw no basis for one. Hell, I agreed with her.

“You want in on it?” I repeated. “Good. I’d like that.”

“Not going to get all boys’ club on me?”

My eyebrows went up. “Where the hell are you getting that from?” Sexist is one of the last adjectives that could be applied to me.

“Nowhere,” she muttered, eyes going someplace else.

“Are you thinking Maestro might object?”

“Might he? I mean, to working with another nonprofessional.”

I sagged back on the couch. The air-conditioner, a window unit, was going, though I can’t afford to run it constantly like some people do in summer, those people who also get themselves outrageous electric bills. Above, the ceiling fan—there’s one in every room of my apartment—whirled. Like other features of life in the Big Easy, these are exotic at first, right out of Casablanca; then, later, they’re practical. I remembered Sunshine stepping through the door when we first rented the place, into this very room with me, both of us filled with hopes for some sort of better life. I remember her eyes, long, natural lashes fluttering as they rose, seeing that same fan that wasn’t turning then, and even so her lips forming to make a delighted, childlike ooooohhh.

I shook myself.

“Maestro?” I said, looking for the thread of what I was saying. “Maestro ... well, he’s been retired ten years, hasn’t he? I’d say he’s lost his pro status as well. And ...” My turn now to trail off uncertainly.

Alex cupped my knee, squeezed.

I sighed. “Well, you heard what I was saying, what he told me tonight at the Calf. I believe him, by the way. Same as I believe the rest of it. If he’s delusional, he’s got people—not just me—going along with him, and he’s portraying himself without a hitch. No.” I laid my hand over hers. “What I said—ten years. Killing this mafioso nephew ... hey, at least he didn’t say the guy’s name was Vinnie. Then I would say delusional, no doubt. But think about it. Maestro retired—deserted the Outfit, came down here from up North, got himself an entirely different identity to live under ... ten years ago.”

Alex nodded, but it was a “go on” nod.

“Does he still seriously think he’s being hunted?” I asked softly.

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