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The bed was an old-fashioned double, with brass headboard and footboard like cell windows. Parker went over to the foot of the bed, seeing the clothing scattered all around the room like used snakeskins on a hot rock, and rapped the gun barrel against the brass footboard. The sound rang out in the room with surprising volume.

Kifka snorted and shifted around some on the bed. But he didn’t wake up.

Then the girl, from the doorway, cried out, ‘Look out, Dan, he’s got a gun!’

Kifka dove off the bed, lunging for a pile of clothing on the chair.

Parker said, ‘Dan! Hold it!’

Kifka was a tumbler. He landed on a shoulder, rolled, reversed, and came up on his feet. He was as naked as a piece of granite, with a red, sleepy, baffled face. He said, ‘What goes on? What the hell goes on?’ From the sound of his voice, his head was stuffed with virus from ear to ear.

Parker told him, ‘We’ve got to talk, Dan.’

‘Parker?’ Kifka frowned heavily and scrubbed his face with meaty palms. ‘This goddam virus won’t get the hell out of here,’ he said.

The girl said, ‘Get back in bed, Dan, you’ll make it worse. Get back in bed.’

‘Yeah. That’s right.’

Parker waited while Kifka got himself back in bed and pulled the sheet up again, and then he turned to the girl and said, ‘Why’d you let him go out tonight, if he’s so sick?’

She looked indignant. ‘Out! I wouldn’t let him go out!’

Kifka was arranging the pillows so he could sit up against them. He stopped and looked at Parker and said, ‘What’s up, Parker? I haven’t been out of this bed in three days.’

Parker believed it. Kifka wasn’t faking sickness, and the girl wasn’t faking her answers. He said, ‘How about your friend makes us some coffee?’

‘Tea,’ Kifka said. ‘She’s got me on tea. You want some?’

Parker shrugged. He didn’t care what he drank, just so the girl would leave the room awhile to go get it.

Kifka said, ‘Janey, be a good girl? Tea all around.’

She had come in a few steps from the doorways, and was standing there still holding the sweatshirt in place. She looked more awake now, but also more confused. She said, ‘He walked in here with a gun, Dan. He’s still got it in his hand.’

‘That’s okay, honey, take my word for it. Parker’s a friend of mine.’

Parker put the gun away in his pocket and showed the girl his empty hand. She said, ‘What do you take in tea, sugar or lemon?’

He didn’t know, so he said, ‘Neither.’

She nodded, turned around, and went out. Because she was pulling the sweatshirt down so hard in front, it was riding very high in back, revealing a bottom as tender as a wheat field.

Kifka laughed, and coughed, and laughed. ‘Ain’t that the loveliest ass?’ he said. ‘The first time I seen that, in stretch pants, I knew I wanted some. How’s the broad you’re shacked up with?’

‘Dead.’

‘What?’

Parker went over and shut the bedroom door and leaned his back against it, so the girl wouldn’t come in unexpectedly. ‘I went out tonight for the first time,’ he said, ‘to get beer and cigarettes. When I came back, she was dead and the cash was gone.’

‘The hell you say!’

There were crossed swords on the wall. Somebody took one down and stuck it right on through her.’

‘The hell with her,’ said Kifka, making an angry dismissing gesture. ‘What’s this about the cash?’ He was sitting bolt upright in the bed now.

‘Gone,’ Parker told him. The guy killed her, took the cash, hid out somewhere nearby, waited till he saw me going back in, and called the cops.’

‘You got out before the cops showed?’

‘No. I had to hit heads.’

Kifka waved a hand back and forth just above the sheet, like a man dusting a pedestal. ‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘I don’t like this one goddam bit.’

‘It had to be somebody in on the job,’ Parker told him. ‘Who else would know about the money?’

Kifka said, ‘And you figured me? I look like the guy?’

He was all set to be insulted.

Parker said, ‘You’re the only one I know how to find. So I came to talk to you.’

‘With a gun in your hand?’

‘You were supposed to be working. I stopped by the garage and they said you hadn’t been around at all. You read it, Dan.’

Grudgingly, Kifka said, ‘All right. It was a possibility. But you see the way I am. I started getting this right after the job, right while I was stashing the first car.’

‘Somebody got the cash,’ Parker reminded him. He didn’t feel like a talk about Kifka’s symptoms right now.

Kifka nodded. ‘So what do we do now?’ he said.

The girl was at the door, kicking it with a bare foot. Parker said to Kifka, ‘Give her a reason to stay out of here.’

‘Will do.’

Parker opened the door and the girl came in carrying a cookie tray with a teapot on it, three cups, a sugar bowl, a little round dish bearing a lemon, and a sharp knife. She put everything down on the table beside the bed. She’d found an apron, pink and white, to supplement the sweatshirt, but it only covered her in front, and when she bent to set the tray down on the table she aimed at Parker again that part that had won Dan Kifka.

Kifka said to her, ‘Janey honey, Parker and I got to talk awhile, private. Boy talk.’ Seeing him talking cute to the girl was like watching Smokey the Bear.

The girl turned and looked at Parker. It was obvious she’d decided she didn’t like him and never would. She said, ‘Dan needs his rest.’

Parker told her, ‘He’ll get more rest with me than you.’

‘Just for a few minutes, honey,’ Kifka said. He could have crumpled her, one-handed, like an empty cigarette package, but instead he put on apologetic look on his face and asked pretty.

Parker waited because that was all he could do, but he didn’t like it.

Still, it didn’t take as long as he’d expected. The girl pouted a little, and hesitated, and twitched her exposed tail, and made a few more remarks about the state of Kifka’s health, and insisted on pouring the tea, but then she gave in and left the room, and closed the door behind her.

Kifka pointed at the closed door. ‘That’s the medicine, boy,’ he said. ‘That little girl can keep me as warm as toast.’

‘The cash,’ Parker said.

‘I know, I know. I’m trying not to think about it.’

‘That’s bright.’

‘Okay, Parker, don’t get feisty. Somebody stole the dough. Look at me, what can I do?’

‘You know where a couple of the others are holed up.’

Kifka nodded. ‘Sure I do. Arnie and Little Bob. You want me to contact them?’

‘No. I want their addresses. I want to go see if they’re still there.’

‘You think it’s one of them? Neither of those guys would pull anything like that, Parker; I’ve known them both for years.’

Parker said, ‘Who, then? Clinger?’

‘New. Who, Clinger? He ain’t the type.’

‘How about Shelly? Or Rudd?’

Kifka shook his head to both of them. ‘You know those guys as well as I do,’ he said.

‘Somebody took the cash,’ Parker reminded him. ‘There’s only seven of us. It wasn’t me and it isn’t you. So that leaves five.’

Kifka frowned hard, rumpling his face up like a beagle. ‘I just can’t see it,’ he said. ‘It couldn’t be some outsider?’

‘Sure. Coincidence. I don’t mind coincidence, it won’t be the first time. A flat worker just happened to pick that apartment while I was out. He didn’t know Ellie was there, and she saw him and he figured she could identify him, so he took the sword down off the wall and killed her. Then he found the cash by accident and took off. Except burglars don’t like to kill if they can avoid it; they’d rather run. And why should he blow the whistle to the cops after I go back in the apartment?’