Fiddle Game by Richard A. Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

the wheel. In some ways, at least, he was not the lunatic he seemed. I gave him directions and advice which he mostly ignored, and three minutes later, we were in front of my office. I was ready to leap out, commando-style, in case he forgot to stop, but he came to a normal halt and even waited around for a minute and talked to me through the window.
    “Do you really want to know about the Rom?” he asked.
    “You tell me. Do I?”
    “A good answer. The true pilgrim does not know the name of his own quest. Yes, you do want to know. But you don’t want to mess with them, no, no, no.”
    “Exactly how would I go about learning without messing?”
    “You would need a guide,”
    “And I’ll just bet I know where I’m going to get one, too, don’t I?”
    “It’s possible I know somebody. Only possible. Give me a day to see if I can set up a meeting.”
    “All right. Do I check back with you in the alley, or what?”
    “I will find you.”
    I thought about the undead body in the trunk and what it might do when it became reanimated. “In a day, I may have to be making myself hard to find.”
    “Yah! will tell me where you are.”
    “Silly me. How could I have forgotten?”
    “Keep the faith, Herman.” And he was gone in a cloud of very nonspiritual exhaust. I think he was aiming for a lightpost in the middle of the next block. I wondered what faith it was he wanted me to keep.
    I turned back to the office and saw Agnes standing in the doorway, her face the image of sisterly concern and possible disapproval. It’s not always her most attractive expression, but this time, it looked terrific. Or maybe I was just glad to be alive to see it.
    “Is everything all right, Herman? There were two detectives here looking for you earlier. Pushy, nasty types. I told them I thought you were gone for the day.”
    “I thought I was gone for good, for a while there. I take it you haven’t listened to your voice mail?”
    “Not lately. Should I? I always check the email first. It’s so much easier to sort.”
    “I left you a message, telling you I was in a lot of trouble.”
    “You should have left me an email. You can highlight the urgent messages with a little picture of a red envelope, you know.”
    “I’ll remember that next time I’m stranded in the jungle. Erase the voice mail, okay?”
    “Should I listen to it first?”
    “Probably not. It would just upset you.”
    “Then I’ll erase it tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you. I was just going to lock up for the day. I’m late as it is.”
    I gave her a raised eyebrow that said, ”You have a date?” and she gave me one raised even higher that said, “None of your damn business.” Did I mention that I don’t cope all that well with the fairer sex?
    “You go on, Aggie. I’ll close up shop. Wide Track Wilkie will be in sometime tomorrow, by the way, and…”
    “You mean Wendell?”
    “He’s a Wendell? Wow. All these years, I never suspected him of anything of the sort.”
    “I really am late, Herman.”
    “So you said. Okay, Wendell, if you insist, will be by tomorrow. If I’m not around, give him two hundred dollars, cash, and copies of all the stuff we got from Amy Cox.”
    “Including the ID?”
    ”Especially the ID.”
    “What’s going on, Herman?”
    “That’s what he’s going to try to find out. Go keep your appointment, why don’t you? We’ll talk tomorrow.”
    We said good night and she headed down the street towards the Garrick Ramp, where her Toyota waited to thank her properly for keeping it out of the rain. I went inside the office, locking the door behind me and throwing Stroud’s briefcase on the desk. Suddenly, it was feeling like an awfully long day, and I killed the main lights, closed the safe, and headed for the cot in the back room. I think I got my whole body on it before I fell asleep. If not, it was close enough.
    ***
    It was more like falling into a bottomless hole than sleep. When I woke up, it was full-blown