Durand looked skeptical. "Yeah? What came of it?"
"Not a fucking thing," said Stepovich.
Durand laughed. "One for you," he said, and drained his beer.
Stepovich had just finished his and set the mug down when he saw Ed loom up behind Durand. It gave him a perverse pleasure to watch Durand jump when Ed laid a big hand on his shoulder.
Ed leaned over the table, spoke to them both. "Got something for you. Outside. In my car."
Neither one asked what it was. Ed's face was enough. They rose silently, Stepovich leaving money on the table. "The car's in back," Ed told them. "I didn't want to leave him out here under the lights. I had to cuff him. Hurry up. He looks like the type who'd do some damage left alone." Their breath made plumes in the air.
But the gypsy was sitting quietly in the front seat,ignoring the handcuffs looped through the steering wheel. Even in the dim alley light, Stepovich could see he'd been roughed up. What was Ed mixed up in now? He grabbed him by the elbow, stepped him away from the car. "He's not the right one, Ed."
"Yes, he is." Ed glanced over to where Durand was peering curiously in at the gypsy. The gypsy was staring straight ahead, ignoring them all. Light winked briefly on the key he tossed to Durand. "Un cuff him from the wheel and stick him in the backseat. But keep his hands cuffed behind him, okay?"
Durand just looked at him, eyes wide. Ed sighed."Look, Randy, just do it, okay? I'll explain later. You won't get in trouble, I promise." As Durand moved grudgingly to obey, Ed turned back to Stepovich."Uh, Mike. There's something I got to tell you. I'm a little afraid that you're going to overreact. So, before I start, the first thing I want you to know is that Laurie isn't hurt, and she's probably on her way home by now."
"What?" Stepovich's guts squeezed tight and cold,"What?"
"Tiffany called me down to the diner. Said there was a guy in there with Laurie, and Laurie was all tarted up. So I went down there, right away and-"
"You didn't call me?"
"There wasn't time. Anyway. When I got there,there was a fight in progress. Some guy, um, wanted Laurie, and the guy in the car there, the gypsy, he was beating the shit out of him. Woulda killed him,probably, if I hadn't broke it up."
The gypsy moved docilely from front seat to back.Durback.Durandand on the gypsy's head to push it down as he entered the car. He winced and hissed in pain. But he went in willingly enough. Durand slid in after him, pushing him into the corner.
"Where's the other guy?" Stepovich felt murder building, his face reddening, the muscles in his arms and chest swelling.
"He ran for it. I'm not as young as I used to be,Mike."
"Bullshit!" Stepovich exploded.
"True." Ed's voice went harder. "I let him go. I didn't think he deserved to die for hitting on a girl dressed like a whore, even if the girl was only fifteen.fifteen.NowI'm telling you true. Laurie was dressed to trick. And from what Tiffany told me, she was with the gypsy there when the other guy made her an offer. But!" Ed gripped Mike's arm hard, forced him to meet his eyes. "But the gypsy wasn't selling her, he beat the other guy to a pulp for even asking, and he even mouthed off to me when I bawled Laurie out for acting like a chip pie. Listen, dammit! He's not a pimp,and I don't think he's a trick. He's some kind of street musician, and for what it's worth," Ed tightened his grip as Mike tried to shake him off a second time, "he protected her. And I don't think they did anythinganything.Hecked me up when I told her to go home.So,home.So you talk to him, think where Laurie would be right now if he hadn't been around."
Both men stood silently. Stepovich could feel Ed's eyes on him as he, himself, stared at the gypsy. The gypsy stared back as if he knew every word passing between them.
"You okay?" Ed asked.
"Yeah," Stepovich said tightly. "Un cuff him. I just want to talk to him."
"You can talk to him with the cuffs on. At my place.Heplace. He in the back of the head with something. I figure we'll take him there, let him clean up a little,and talk to him. Where it's quiet and private."
"Un cuff him. I want to talk to him first. Right here."
"I don't think so," Ed said slowly. "I think we'll leave him cuffed and go to my place."
"Ed."
"You're not the type to hit a man when he's cuffed.Acuffed.And I'm not protecting just him, I'm protecting you.Two you.Tworom brutality charges and from beating insensible someone who might be able to tell you something about this other gypsy thing."
Stepovich strangled for a moment, cop warring with father. He reached inside himself for coldness, got a tentative grip on it. "Okay." He could wait. He'd hear it all first. And when he'd heard it all, then…He felt Ed's eyes on his face, forced the muscles to relax, his eyes to empty. "Okay. Your place. Let's go."
There's no whiskey in the jar
I'm so dry I need a drink
I need a place to lay my head down
I need to find some time to think.
"HIDE MY TRACK"
The horses were resting, now, content. Memories of them came back to him from a place he didn't know:Setal, who wouldn't stop moving, even in her stall; Sztrajktoro, who everyone else thought was bad-tempered, but who was only frightened; Madar, who was never really stubborn, just always had her own ideas of what she wanted to do: Nagyful, who listened so intently when he spoke. And the rest, down through the ages.
Now they were resting, as was he. The only thing left was a nagging feeling of something left undone,but it was too late now. The coach had stopped at last, and he must climb down, though he had no passenger for whom to hold the door. He regretted very little, he decided. The brandy, there at the end, had been a mistake, but he had hurt so much. Too late now, though. A feeling like a blanket was creeping over him; he felt warm, comfortable, as if the pain was over and wouldn't be back. He could rest now,and that was what he wanted. He was drifting, ready to sleep, except that he couldn't, because, off in the distance, someone was making a noise. It wasn't loud, but it was there, and it wouldn't stop. He had not been aware of it at first, but it was growing more annoying by the instant.
He was suddenly puzzled. He was dead, wasn't he? Why should there be a racket? Odd. What was it?A thump and a click-a-click, and a thump and slap.Likslap. Likebourines the gypsies had played.
As this thought formed, he heard it louder, more insistent, more annoying. Damn those gypsies anyway. Ever since he'd met them they'd been nothing but trouble, and now they wouldn't even let him die.He tdie.Heo yell for it to stop, but his mouth didn't work. The noise stopped, however, and he saw a familiar face floating before him.
Can't you leave me in peace? he cried, or tried to.
Leave you in peace? Of course not. The other laughed.laughed.Which he? The Owl, yes of course. I am hardly going to leave you in peace, you have to drive us home when we're done.
But I can't. They've killed me.
Oh, yes, I know. And they've wrapped me in a cocoon of darkness, which I cannot leave. I cannot use my body,and yours is damaged, but I can still hear the songs of the ritmus ordog, can I not?
I see the horses, he admitted.
Well, there you are. Time to be up and about. I have something for my brother now, and I'll get it to him if he can find me before I die of the cold. I have a scarf the color of fire and smoke, but it may not be enough.
But what can I do?
The one who knows is dead; bring my brothers to the one who acts.
It was all so damned confusing. He wished he had a drink. No, on the other hand, it was probably best that he didn't. All right. Where are you, then?
Why, I have no idea, said the Owl. Tell them to listen for the tambourine.
Very well. But what about me?