He stopped then briefly, mopped his brow, and steeled himself for his next stop. It had been the first name to come to his mind, but he’d known he’d want to be riding full and fast by the time he came to it. He licked his lips and turned down a side alley and wound his way through to a small string of little shops. At the end was a place called The Far Lightning, which to the casual eye was no more than your average gin joint. But still Hayes walked up and knocked at the door and was admitted by a huge man with stooped shoulders who glumly asked if he’d like a beverage.
“Oh yes, a Negroni, if you know how to make one,” said Hayes.
The doorman nodded, motioned with one hand, and led him around the meager bar to a small door, which he opened and then stood beside, waiting obediently. Hayes entered and walked down the short staircase until he came to a low, wide room that was lit by oil lamps, and among the many shadows were tables of roulette, of craps, of poker and of blackjack. At each table men sat hunched and anxious, so lost in their games they did not even notice Hayes entering. All except one.
Hayes saw him at the back immediately. He barely had to look, for he knew his man would be in the same place as always. Seated beside his shabby little wooden table and his checkers game and his newspaper, dressed in his old jean overalls and a red striped shirt, one hand fixed on the ebony cane between his legs. Hayes watched as Sookie Jansen’s eyes zeroed in on him immediately. The old man raised one twisted claw and waved him forward, and Hayes obeyed.
No, he thought as he walked. One didn’t prostrate oneself before Sookie Jansen without a heart full of confidence and some secrets to share. Of all his contacts throughout Evesden, Sookie was the best and also the worst, because Sookie’s company was like his many games: gaining something was possible, but losing something was certain, no matter what talents you had. Hayes considered him something between a friend and a rival, which was saying something, because Hayes felt he had few of either.
“Well, well,” said Sookie. He leaned his head back and squinted at him. “Come here so I can take a look at you.”
“Hello, Sooks,” said Hayes. “How’s business?”
Sookie did not answer. He just looked him up and down, and Hayes had the uncomfortable feeling of being x-rayed. Like Hayes, Sookie was from overseas, being the unwanted son of a supposedly chaste Catholic missionary in China. His upbringing had been brutal beyond words, and he’d soon shed the grasp of God for the more lucrative one of the streets, where he’d made a minor king of himself, Hayes had heard. He’d been one of the first immigrants to Evesden, as Sookie’d always had a nose for profit, and he’d served as a pillar of the underworld ever since. Not that anyone knew. Sookie was decidedly a businessman and never a gangster, and his reputation only existed where he felt it was necessary.
You’d never think it to look at him, though. He was a short old man so wrinkled and aged he was almost beyond race. His blue eyes were alien in his faintly Asiatic face, and a brambly scrap of hair was forever riding below his lip. He’d learned his English from some far-flung dockworkers, and so he spoke in a queer Southern patois. He wore the same overalls and the same shirt and the same porkpie hat every day, and he’d come down to his club at the start of every morning and load his lip up with tobacco and sit and watch and idly play checkers. Hayes had never once seen him spit. He felt sure the old man simply swallowed it.
“Well, now,” said Sookie finally. “Something’s got ahold of the Princeling. Something’s got a burn on him. That’s for sure.” He turned to his opponent across the checkerboard. “Hecker, I hear there’s a nice breeze coming in. May bring some clean air. How about you check that out for me?”
Hecker rose and left and Hayes took his seat. “You didn’t answer my question,” said Hayes.
“No,” said Sookie pointedly. “I didn’t. What the hell you doing here, Princeling? You’re bad news. People paint their doors with lamb’s blood to make you walk by.”
“I’m here to trade,” said Hayes. “To tug on your earlobe, dear Sooks.”
Sookie grunted. “Heard you was at Moira’s spinning a few wheels. That so?”
Hayes tilted his head but said nothing.
“Yeah. Yeah. So why didn’t you come to see old Sooks first, Princeling? That’s real rude, as far as I can see.”
“I needed something to trade with, of course.”
“Of course,” said Sookie, and sighed. “This’d be about the unions, eh?”
“Yes, Sooks. It would.”
“Hm. Unions, unions,” he mused. “You know, you ain’t the same anymore, Princeling.”
“No?”
“No. You used to be dirty. Dirty all over. Dirty and mean. And dirty and mean is dependable, and Sookie likes dependable, see?” He poked Hayes in the arm. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Sooks.”
He grunted and peered at Hayes again. The he grinned. “Oh, no. No, no. Don’t you go telling me old Hayes got bit by a woman? Is that the case? I think so.” He cawed laughter. “You know, I heard a rumor about you running around with a girl, but I didn’t believe it was true. Now, though, I got to say they was right. I can tell it just by looking at you.”
Hayes smiled and shrugged. Sookie always toyed with you before giving anything of worth.
“It is,” said Sookie. “You got that look about you. You got the shine. I guess what they say is so. Old Hayes nudged up against some pussy and it burned him but good.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh, sure it ain’t. I’d never think I’d see the day. Especially ’cause lately I hear you ain’t exactly a fan of pussy. Is that so?”
Hayes grinned wider and shrugged again.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he said. “A man wants what a man wants.” Sookie shook his head. “I can’t believe it, though. You always seemed like a hard little thing. Like you’d cut through the world like a knife. And now you twisting in the wind for a woman.”
“I’m not a romantic, Sooks. You know that.”
“But there is a girl.”
“A young thing with fresher eyes than mine, yes. But she has nothing to do with this.”
Sookie flexed his lower lip and sucked on his wad of tobacco. “Mm. Maybe not. But something’s different in you. I never seen you run out in the open like you are right now, especially not over something like the unions. Just unwise.”
“Say what you like,” said Hayes. “I’m going to do it anyway.”
Sookie sucked on the chaw again. “Let me tell you a story, boy. I had this cousin, see? Call him Archibald. Archibald, he wasn’t a smart man, not by a long shot, but he inherited this old ’lectric printing press. Only one in town. So he does a fair bit of trade, gets his dollar, follow?”