“Can you stick around there until I get a taxi? I’ll tell you what happened to me later.”
He cut Gilson off and phoned for a taxi. It was ten minutes before one showed up. However, stimulated by the large sum of money Carmody offered, the driver broke every traffic law as the opportunity offered itself. Carmody could not complain that the trip took longer than it should.
Tiiwit’s Tavern was well off the main street of the city of Rak, but it was crowded tonight. The festive mobs had spilled out this way after the parade had broken up. Gilson, costumed in the trogur dress similar to the priest’s, was waiting outside. Carmody talked with him for a minute, then followed him in.
Lieftin and the Kareenan were sitting at a table in the shadowy rear. The Kareenan was gesticulating in a manner that reminded Carmody of someone he had met recently. When the Kareenan got up and went to the washroom, his walk identified him.
“It’s Abog,” Carmody said to Gilson, “Rilg’s secretary. Now, what in hell is he doing here talking with Lieftin?”
Abog would not be doing this on his own, just for pleasure. Was his boss, Rilg, a member of the Algulist underground? He could have heard of the assassin sent by the Earth fanatics and decided to use him for his own purposes.
“Listen, Gilson,” Carmody said, “we’d better be careful from now on when we’re dealing with the police. Some of them may be working for Rilg. You get out of here and go back to the hotel. If I’m picked up, I stand a better chance of careful treatment. I’ll stick close to Lieftin.”
Gilson said, “I hate to let you do it.”
“I know this world better than you. Besides, unless you’re planning to Night, you won’t be here much longer.”
The operative left, wishing Carmody good luck. The priest stood by the bar for a while, sipping Kareenan beer. When a couple rose from a table near Lieftin’s and staggered out, Carmody seated himself. So noisy was the tavern, he could not hear what Lieftin and Abog were saying. It was unfortunate that he had not taken a tapper with him. With it, he could have beamed in on the two and eavesdropped.
Abruptly, the two rose and walked swiftly toward the door. Carmody waited a moment before following. Evidently they were on the alert, for Abog kept glancing behind him. The two went out the door when Carmody was halfway across the room.
A moment later, three policemen appeared in the doorway, blocking it. Carmody stopped and looked back. More policemen were coming through the back door.
Could Abog and Lieftin have spotted him or Gilson? Carmody did not believe it. More likely, they were just taking precautions—making sure that anyone trying to follow them would be held up by the police.
Carmody angled off, staggering, toward the washroom. He went through the door just as whistles shrilled and the alarmed patrons began to shout. Unobserved, he went through the open window of the washroom.
As he dropped like a cat onto the paved alley, a voice said, “Hold it! Hands above the head!”
Lifting his hands, Carmody turned. He saw a policeman standing there with a gun pointed at him.
“Turn back around! Hands on the wall! Quick!”
“I ain’t doing nothing, officer!” Carmody whined in lower-class Kareenan. He started to obey, then lifted his mask, flipped it at the policeman’s face and continued his turn, violently. The policeman said, “Ugh!” The gun fired, and the bullet exploded against the stone wall. Flying stone chips struck Carmody. He rolled into the officer’s legs, knocked him over forward. Before the officer could get up, he found Carmody astride his back. Then he went limp as the priest pressed with his thumbs on the areas just behind the ears.
Carmody picked up the gun and mask. As he ran toward the far end of the alley, he put the mask on and stuck the gun in his belt. There were whistles behind him, then shouts. As Carmody threw himself forward on the ground, bullets shattered chips off the wall ahead of him. He kept on rolling around the corner, was up on his feet and running again. Within a minute, he was back in the street and mingling with the crowd. A police car drove slowly through the mob, its siren hooting. Carmody stood by and watched it go.
There was not much for him to do now; he had lost Abog and Lieftin. He might as well go back to the hotel.
From the hotel lobby, he phoned Gilson’s room. There was no reply. He called Tand and was told by a servant that Tand was not expected back until early in the morning. Carmody went up to his floor with two policemen, unlocked the door, and asked them to search his suite. They reported that it was empty of intruders and seemed to contain no suspicious devices. He thanked them and bolted the door after them.
After drinking a cup of wine, Carmody made up his bed to look as if someone were sleeping under the covers. He spread a blanket under a table and, concealed by the heavy tablecloth, curled up and went to sleep.
He awoke with the phone ringing on the table above him. Instead of rolling out and springing up to the phone, he peered from beneath the tablecloth. The morning light was filtering through the iron bars and the double glass of the windows. All looked safe, so he crawled out from under the table. His muscles were stiff and sore from the exertions of the night before and his cramped position.
Tand was calling. He looked as if he had slept even less well than Carmody. His face was drawn, and there were harsh lines raying out from the corners of his nostrils down to the edges of his lips. Nevertheless, he smiled.
“Did you enjoy your first night’s stay at our hotel?”
“It wasn’t boring,” Carmody replied. He looked at the clock on the wall. “Almost lunch time. I slept through breakfast.”
“I have good news,” Tand said. “Yess will see you tonight. At the hour of the thrugu.”
“Very good. Now, tell me, do you think there’s a chance our line is being tapped?”
“Who knows? It could be. Why?”
“I’d like to talk to you. Right now. It’s very important.”
“I haven’t slept all night,” Tand said. “But then who does at this time? All right. Why don’t you come to my place? Or would you prefer another place?”
“Your house could be bugged.”
Tand lost his smile. “It’s that bad? Very well. I’ll drive myself, pick you up in front of the hotel. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
While waiting in his room, Carmody walked back and forth, his arms swinging violently up and down as if he were striding across fields on a hike. The name Fratt beat like a gavel. Fratt! Fratt! Who was Fratt? Where? When? Why?
He had an excellent memory, undimmed and unblocked. He remembered well the hideous crimes he had committed. There had been a time when he had thought the only way he would be able to stop remembering them would be to kill himself. That was long ago. Now, he could visualize all he had done, but it was as if he were looking at someone else.
But why could he not summon the man Fratt from the past?
He ran through the names of all the victims he could recollect. There were many. Then he tried to visualize the anonymous faces, of which there were also many.
By the time he had to leave his room, he had given up. He also had a slight headache, something he had not suffered for many years. Was it caused by his conscience? Was there still something lurking in his unconscious, when he thought he had cleansed himself of guilt and remorse?
He walked out of the hotel door just as Tand drove up in a long sleek black car. Its right door opened before Carmody got to it, and it closed after Carmody settled himself beside Tand in the front seat.