"Besides," Pookie sez, "they've been swiping money from the tax collectors. You don't need gold if you're living off the land. It's a good bet that they're spending it somewhere. That subdivision seems like a logical choice."
"Sounds like a plan," I sez. "Shakin' down some locals for information is a lot more up my alley than tryin' to play Sneaky Pete through a bunch of bushes and swamps. What do you think, Spyder?"
"Whatever works for you guys," she sez, tryin' to sound casual.
Pookie gives me a big wink so's Spyder can't see. I decide that not hurryin' back to the palace isn't such a bad idea after all.
EIGHT
"You know, it's been so long since I've been away from Perv, I had forgotten what a hoot it can be visiting other dimensions," sez Pookie.
As I mentioned before, I had gotten into the habit of tuning out the ladies' conversations as we were travelin', as they tended to make my head hurt, but that comment caught my attention.
"What brings that to mind, Pookie?" I sez.
"Oh, just things you don't normally come across, like that. .. what did you call it again, Spyder?"
"A porta-pottie," sez Spyder?
"See? That's what I mean."
"What's so strange about that?" sez Spyder.
"Look around you, dear," sez Pookie. "We're surrounded by a wealth of bushes and trees. Why invent something like a porta-pottie?"
"You can't charge people for usin' a bush or a tree," 1 sez.
Pookie is silent for several minutes before she responds.
"You and your crew have been spending a lot of time at the Bazaar at Deva lately, haven't you, Guido?" she sez finally.
"That's right," I sez. "That's where our headquarters are. So?"
"Nothing," Pookie sez, innocent-like. "It just explains a couple things is all."
During our travels, I have learned that it's easier to get a straight answer out of a lawyer what knows you are both monied and guilty than it is to get Pookie to elaborate once she starts bein' evasive. As such I simply change the subject.
"Realizin' we are rapidly approachin' our destination," I sez, gesturing to the small clutter of buildings up ahead, "it might be a good idea if we got it straight as to what our modus operandi is goin' to be once we get there."
"Could you give me a quick briefing on the general layout here, Guido?" Pookie sez, eyein' the buildings. "What's the deal with these 'subdivisions', anyway?"
"It's a fairly recent development," I sez. "It used to be that people would move away from the small farmin' communities for the excitement and culture, not to mention the economic opportunities, of the bigger cities. The problem was, as more and more people came to the cities, it got crowded and tended to draw what is politely referred to as 'the rougher element' who make their livin's by separatin' said citizens from the gains from said economic opportunities.
"The solution, strange as it seems, is that those citizens who were successful enough to afford it retreated to areas midway between the cities and the farms. Developers bought up abandoned or strugglin' farms, slapped up clusters of houses, and sold them to people who work in the city, but don't want to live there. For the most part, the people we'll be talkin' to spend their days in the city workin', then travel here to the subdivisions evenings to sleep and spend time with their families.
"The older, better developed subdivisions, like the Sherwood Arms up ahead, have gotten large enough that they have their own cluster of small businesses providin' food, services, and sometimes limited entertainment, so their residents don't have to lug everything back from the city."
"So the folks in this subdivision think of themselves as ruthless, sophisticated city folk, but aren't actually tough enough to handle the mean streets, eh?" Pookie sez.
"That about sums it up," I sez.
"It that case," Pookie sez, "would you mind letting me take the lead on our first interrogation?"
"No problem," I sez. "You got a plan?"
"Nothing specific," she sez. "I just thought it might give me a chance to demonstrate to Spyder here the effectiveness of applied femininity. Do you understand what I'm saying, dear?"
"You're going to hit someone," Spyder sez, dutifully.
I barely manage to suppress a rude snicker. It is clear that civilizin' Spyder is not a task easily accomplished. Even for someone as polished and tenacious as Pookie.
"No, dear," Pookie sez, patiently. "Think carefully. Remember what we've been talking about in regards to subtlety?"
Spyder frowns with the unaccustomed effort of thinking. Then her expression brightens.
"You're going to threaten to hit someone," she sez, brightly.
This time my effort to suppress my reaction is less successful, and earns me a dirty look from Pookie.
"No, dear. That's Guido's department," she sez. "We're ladies. Tell you what. Just watch what I do and we'll talk about it later."
· · ·
Unfortunately, my amusement with the situational did not last long. In fact, it dropped radically as soon as Pookie began her preparations.
Mostly, this consisted of using disguise spells to alter the appearances of both Spyder and myself. She said this was to make us look less intimidatin' so people would be more inclined to let 'em think she was usin' the opportunity to exact a little revenge on us, as she maintained the same appearance she had when we was dealin' with the soldier types, and, if you'll recall, that was not exactly demure and unassumin'.
She let Spyder keep her new 'hot babe' look, but changed her outfit so it was no longer even a modified army uniform. Even so, the new civilian outfit was considerably less peek-a-boo provocative than it had been.
The real axe job she saved for me.
Now, I cannot argue with her basic logic, as there is no doubt that my normal appearance is both noticeable and awe-inspirin' and played no small part in my career choice. I mean, Mob enforcers tend to come in one of two body types: either the big and wide man-mountain model like Nunzio and myself; or the skinny, fast, and nasty knife-man model like Snake. Either style has the marked advantage of makin' regular folks want to co-operate with you without contestin' whether or not you are actually capable of uppin' the ante if they decide to be difficult. It was therefore understandable that she felt it necessary to lessen the impact of the visual impression I normally make on the uninitiated.
I do, however, think she went a bit overboard on said lessenin'.
First, she knocked about a third off me, both in height and in girth. Then she took my normally spiffy outfit and changed it to a drab overall kind of rig than hung on my "new body" like a coat draped over a small chair. The buck teeth were a totally unnecessary touch, as I did not plan on smilin' much while lookin' like this.
"That should just about do it," Pookie sez with a grin, steppin' back to survey me like an artist viewin' a still-damp canvas. "Just remember to keep your weapons out of sight unless we're actually attacked."
This last I figure was a bit of self-protection on her part, because the way I was feelin' after havin' viewed my new appearance, there was no doubt in my mind as to who my prime target would be if I should happen to decide to abandon my preferred peace-lovin' manner.
"Everybody ready?" she sez, finally. "Spyder? Guido?"
"It's your show," I sez with a shrug.
"All right. Just stay close and follow my lead."
We tags along as she ambles into the scattered groupin' of small businesses that seems to mark the hub of the subdivision. There is only a handful of people wanderin' about, and most of them seem to be of the housewife variety. In no time flat, however, she has singled out her first target. He is a lanky string-bean son with fiery red hair. More notably to the practiced eye. his clothes are several notches more expensive than anyone else's who is immediately visible.