He passed over the bottle. I took a slug, and gave it back. "That's all there is, so pace yourself," he said. "I could get it over with quick, you know, but I like to give them their money's worth. That okay with you?"
It was very much okay with me. I wanted to stay with him for as long as I could. "All night if you want to."
He grunted, and I took that for an agreement. We settled back into the bunks, shaking down for the night. It was dark in the cabin of the launch, and I could barely see his face. We passed the bottle back and forth, taking tiny sips.
"I shoulda brought some peanuts," he muttered.
"Peanuts are for sissies. Is it all right to talk like this?"
"Long as we keep it low."
"How do we pass the time? 'Sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of kings'?"
"Richard Second, Act Three." He laughed shortly.
"You patronizing me, quoting Shakespeare to a comic?"
"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry if it sounded that way."
"Forget it. I got a thin skin about things like that, comes with the line of work I'm in. You see the way people look at you, and you know what they're thinking. A comic, he's got no feelings. He's got no sensitivity. All he knows is how to drop his pants and make people laugh. We're not supposed to be like other people."
" 'And yet, if you prick us, do we not bleed?' "
"You gonna do that all night? Besides, that's about Jews, not comics. I know, I'm both." He was silent for as long as it took for each of us to take one of those ladylike sips from the bottle. "You remember that friend I told you about?"
"Mutt and Jeff?"
"The funniest part was that he was an Arab. An exchange student from Lebanon. Mutt and Jeff, the Arab and the Jew."
"And the Pom-Pom Queen."
"You got a good memory. You're not married, are you?"
"No."
"I didn't think so, and I can usually tell. Listen, what I said the other night about my wife…"
"You don't have to tell me anything."
"Yeah, but I want to. Whatever I said about her, I didn't mean it to sound like I'm blaming her. I've got a screwed-up marriage, but it isn't her fault. She just married the wrong guy."
"You don't know how it would have worked out with the other guy."
There was just enough light for me to see him shake his head. "You wouldn't say that if you knew Hassan."
"Mutt?"
"Yeah. Hassan was the straightest, sweetest guy who ever lived. Sure, we both loved her, but the way he loved her was different. Let me put it this way. If she had married him, she'd be happy today. And so would he. The marriage would have lasted, and the love would have lasted, too. That's the way he loved her. Forever."
"Nothing is forever."
"Like I said, you never knew him. But it was different with me. I'm a fuck-up, and I've always been a fuck-up. All I knew was that I wanted her. So I woo'd her, and I won her, but it was still a fuck-up."
" 'Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.' '
"Enough. Pass the bottle." I heard it clink against his teeth. "You know the line from the act after that, the one about the clown?"
" 'It is meat and drink to me to see a clown?"
"That's it. Meat and drink. Remember that."
"What happened to Hassan?"
"He took second best. Consolation prize."
"The Poodle?"
He did not answer, and he was silent for a long time after that. Once he mumbled about not bringing peanuts. Once he grunted as he took off his shoes and stretched out on the bunk. After that I heard his even breathing as he slept, and then I heard him turn over.
"Ben, you awake?"
"Yeah."
"What time is it?"
"About two."
"Listen, you got that check of mine with you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Could I have it back now? I mean, once we walk out of here and you zap me, it's over. So could I have it back?"
There was no reason not to. The check had served its purpose. I dug it out of my pocket, and handed it to him. I heard him rip it in half, and then in half again. He said, "Thanks. Is it enough to say thanks?"
"Don't get sloppy on me. Go back to sleep."
I heard him turn over again. My own eyes felt heavy, and I fought the temptation to close them. Only a few more hours and the hunt would be over, but I was beginning to get the feeling that I was guarding an empty castle. If two hundred players in the game couldn't find Calvin, then how was Madrigal going to do it? Only through a stroke of luck, and the professionals of David Ogden's world didn't operate on luck. So how? If I were Madrigal, how would I…?
And there it was. So simple, really.
"Calvin."
"What?"
"How much did the other guy offer you?"
"What other guy?"
"You sold me out. You made a deal with someone else."
He was silent.
"Didn't you?"
"No, I swear I didn't."
I went into his head. He was lying. It was all there, screaming guilt. He had made the deal, all right, and someone was waiting out there on the deck. I said quietly, "How much did he promise you? Half of it? More?"
"Hey, do you really think I'd do something like that?"
"Which was why you had to have the check back. How much, Calvin?"
He sighed. "Half. Guy comes up to me yesterday afternoon, makes me the offer, and 'I did greedily devour the treacherous bait.' '
"No more Shakespeare. Talk."
"Look, do you know how often I get a proposition like that? At least once every trip, and I always say no. But I figure, I already sold out to you, so why not? Ten grand from him, and if I can get the check back from you I'm home free. Which is just the way it's working out."
"Cute."
"Remember, I told you I was a fuck-up."
"So you did. And, of course, you told him where you would be hiding."
He shrugged. "How else?"
"Which means he's waiting out there now."
"That's the deal. Hey, where are you going?"
I was off the bunk and moving aft to the cabin door. "Calvin, you're right, you're a world-class fuck-up, and if you want to do something right for just once in your life you'll stay here and keep quiet. You understand? Don't move, not for anything."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have an investment to protect."
I went out of the cabin on my belly, rolled over the side of the launch, grabbed the davit, and dropped to the deck. I took out the silenced Walther, and let it hang in my hand at my side. The Bridge Deck looked dark and deserted, and I did not try to hide myself. Madrigal would be looking for Calvin, not for me.
I started forward, leaving the launch behind me, and I felt his presence before I saw him. He was about a hundred feet up the deck, and I went into his head as soon as I got within range. It was a cool head, uncluttered. He had what he saw as a simple job to do, and he was ready to do it as soon as Calvin showed his face. With what as a weapon? I tapped deeper. One of those paint pistols? Not likely. I pushed harder on the tap. Yeah, a paint pistol, but then I saw what he had done to the toy they had given him in the Main Lounge. He had modified the paint mixture with a strong dose of-I had to stretch for it-Saxitoxin-D. Talk about biological assault with a vengeance. One drop of that on Calvin's skin, thirty seconds to kill him, and the beauty part is that it comes out looking like a heart attack. Very sophisticated high-level Agency equipment. The night was warm, and I was suddenly chilled.
I saw him then. He was standing with his back against the rail. It was too dark to see his face clearly, or to tell his age. He nodded as I came near.
"Hi, there," he said in a low, smooth voice. "You playing the Calvin game?"
"That's right. You, too?"