Jube nodded, raised his massive bulk, slid out of the booth.
"Watch your cholesterol," he said.
Blue cracks had appeared in the sky's gray shell, and sunlight found its way through to the street. The sound of trickling water came steadily now from somewhere to the rear of the newsstand. Jube would normally have thought it a pleasant background to the traffic noises and other sounds of the city, save that a small moral dilemma had drifted in on leathery wings and destroyed the morning. He did not realize he had made a decision in the matter until he looked up and saw Croyd looking at him, smiling.
"No problem," said Croyd. "It'll be a piece of cake." Jube sighed.
"There's something I've got to tell you first," he said. "Problems?"
"Nothing that bears directly on the terms of the job," Jube explained. "But you may have a problem you didn't know you had."
"Like what?" Croyd said, frowning. "That pterodactyl we saw earlier…? F "Yeah?.,
"Kid Dinosaur was headed here. I found him waiting when I got back. He was looking for you."
"I hope you didn't tell him where to find me."
"No, I wouldn't do that. But you know how he keeps tabs on aces and high-powered jokers…?"
"Yeah. Why couldn't he be into baseball players or war criminals?"
"He saw one he wanted you to know about. He said that Devil John Darlingfoot got out of the hospital a month or so ago and dropped out of sight. But he's back now. He'd seen him near the Cloisters earlier. Says he's heading for Midtown."
"Well, well. So what?"
"So he thinks he's looking for you. Wants a rematch. The Kid thinks he's still mad over what you did to him the day the two of you trashed Rockefeller Plaza."
"So let him keep looking. I'm not a short, heavyset, darkhaired guy anymore. I'll go get the stiff now-before someone buys him a short bier."
"Don't you want the money?"
"You already gave it to me."
"When?"
"What's your first memory of my coming back here?"
"I looked up about a minute ago and saw you standing there smiling. You said there was no problem. You called it 'a piece of cake.'"
"Good. Then, it's working."
"You'd better explain."
"That's the place where I wanted you to start remembering. I'd been here for about a minute before that, and I talked you into giving me the money and forgetting about it."
Croyd withdrew an envelope from an inner pocket, opened it, and displayed cash.
"Good Lord, Croyd! What else did you do during that minute?"
"Your virtue's intact, if that's what you mean."
"You didn't ask me any questions-about…?" Croyd shook his head.
"I told you I didn't care who wants the body or why. I really don't like to burden myself with other peoples concerns. I've enough problems of my own."
Jube sighed.
"Okay. Go do it, boy." Croyd winked.
"Not to worry, Walrus. Consider it done."
Croyd walked until he came to a supermarket, went in and purchased a small package of large plastic trash bags. He folded one and fitted it into his inside jacket pocket. He left the rest in a waste bin. Then he walked to the next major intersection and hailed a cab.
He rehearsed his strategy as he rode across town. He would enter the place and use his latest power to persuade the receptionist that he was expected, that he was a pathologist from Bellevue who had been called over by a friend on the staff to consult on a forensic peculiarity. He toyed for a moment with the names Malone and Welby, settled upon Anderson. He would then cause the receptionist to summon someone with the authority to take him downstairs and find him his John Doe. He would place that person under control, get the body and its belongings, transfer it to a baggy, and walk out, causing everyone he passed to forget he had been by. Certainly a lot simpler than more strenuous tactics he had had to employ over the years. He smiled at the classic simplicity of it-no violence, no memory…
When he arrived at the aluminum-paneled building of blue and white glazed brick, he told the cab driver to go on by and drop him at the next corner. There were two police cars parked in front and a shattered door lay before the place. The presence of police at a morgue did not seem that untoward an occurrence, but the broken door aroused his sense of caution._ He handed the driver a fifty and told him to wait. He strolled past the place once and looked inside. Several of the police were visible, apparently talking with employees.
This did not seem an ideal time to proceed with his plan. On the other hand, he could not afford to go away without finding out what had happened. So he turned when he reached the corner, and headed back. He entered without hesitation, looking about quickly.
A man in civvies who was standing with the police turned suddenly in his direction and stared. Croyd did not like that stare at all. It pulled the floor out from under his stomach and made his hands tingle.
He reached out immediately with his new power, heading directly toward the man, forcing a smile as he moved.
It's okay. You want to talk to me and do exactly as I say. Wave you hand now, say, "Hi, Jim!" in a loud voice and walk over to the side there with me.
"Hi, Jim!" the man said, moving to join Croyd.
No! Judas thought. Too damned fast. Nailed me as soon as I spotted him… We can use this guy… "Plainclothes?" Croyd asked him.
"Yes," the man felt himself wanting to answer. "What's your name?"
"Matthias."
"What happened here?"
"A body was stolen."
"Which one?"
"A John Doe."
"Can you describe it?"
"Looked like a big bug-grasshopper legs.. "
"Shit!" Croyd said. "What about his possessions?"
"There weren't any possessions."
Several of the uniformed officers were glancing in their direction now. Croyd gave his next order mentally. Matthias turned toward the uniforms.
"Just a minute, guys," he called. "Business."
Damn! he thought. This one will come in handy. You can't hold me like this forever, fella…
"How'd it happen?" Croyd asked.
"A guy came in here a little while ago, went downstairs, forced an attendant to show him the compartment, took the body out, and left with it."
"Nobody tried to stop him?"
"Sure they did. Four of them are on their way to the hospital as a result. The guy was an ace."
"Which one?"
"The one who wrecked Rockefeller Plaza last fall."
"Darlingfoot?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Don't… Don't ask any more, whether I'm involved, whether I hired him, whether I'm running a cover-up now…"
"Which way did he go with it?"
"Northwest."
"On foot?"
"That's what the witnesses said-big, twenty-foot leaps." As soon as you let me go, sucker, I'm calling in the nukes on you.
"Hey, why'd you turn and look at me the way you did when I came in?"
Damn!
"I felt that an ace had just walked through the door."
"How'd you know?"
"I'm an ace myself. That's my power-spotting other aces."
"Useful talent for a cop, I guess. Well, listen close. You are now going to forget you ever met me, and you won't notice me leaving. You're just going to walk on over to that fountain and get a drink, then walk back and join your buddies. If anyone asks who you were talking to, you'll say it was your bookie and forget about it. You do that now. Forget!"
Croyd turned and walked away. Judas realized he was thirsty.
Outside, Croyd walked to his cab, climbed in, slammed the door and said, "Northwest."
"What do you mean?" the driver asked him.
"Just head uptown and I'll tell you what to do as we go along. "
"You're the boss."
The car jerked into motion.
Over the next mile Croyd had the driver jog westward, as he searched for signs of the other's passage. It seemed unlikely that Devil John would be using public transportation when carrying a corpse. On the other hand, it was possible he'd had an accomplice waiting with a vehicle. Still, knowing the man's chutzpah, it did not seem out of the question for him to be hoofing it with the body. He knew that there was very little anyone could do to stop him if he did not wish to be stopped. Croyd sighed as he scanned the way ahead. Why were simple things never easy?