boss. I just want what I want, and I’m going to get it, and I don’t go for the kind of gaff that punks like you hand out.”

Catell’s voice had stayed on an even pitch, but he felt a harsh excitement and a powerful certainty surge through him as he stood tensed, hands curled at his sides, his sharp face very still.

Topper gave the only answer he knew how to give. He reached for his gun. Before he had it out, Catell grabbed Lily’s arm and swung her in front of him.

“Catell,” Topper said, “how yellow can you get?”

Catell didn’t answer.

“Catell, I’d just as soon shoot right through this dame to get you.”

“Baby!” Lily’s voice made a sound of surprise.

“Shut up! You think you’re special? You think I wouldn’t just as soon kick you over?”

Lily started to moan, but it wasn’t so much because of Topper’s words. Catell’s hands, holding the girl in front of him, had dug into her arms like claws.

“Make him move, Lily.” Topper stepped closer. “Make him move. Kick back.”

But she didn’t. She stood still, facing Topper and his gun. Then her head sank down and her knees bent.

“Drop her, Catell. Drop her or I shoot the both of you.” Topper took another step forward.

But Catell didn’t move. He knew that Lily hadn’t fainted. He could feel the muscles in her arms tense under his hands. Then she kicked her foot, hard and swift.

It caught Topper square in the groin. He buckled slowly, his eyes rolling blindly in their sockets and his red mouth puckered. When Topper hit the floor, Catell let go of Lily’s arms and reached down for the gun. Then he straightened up and took Lily around the waist.

“Thanks, baby,” he said.

When he leaned over to kiss her cheek, she drew back and hit him in the face. She didn’t slap him; she hit him hard with a closed fist.

“For chrissakes! What in hell was that for?”

But Lily wasn’t listening. She stood by the wall, her hands over her face, crying in a concentrated way. Catell shrugged and turned back to Topper.

“Can you hear me, punk?”

Topper opened his eyes and his face relaxed a little.

“Listen close, Topper. You touch Lily for this and I’ll get you for it. I’ll get you for it so you die in the end, but way in the end. And it’s going to take time, Topper. You listening?” Catell grabbed the man’s lapels and jerked.

“Stop it, stop it, you!” Lily, hands over her cheeks, stood by the wall, screaming.

“Lily!” Catell got to his feet. “What is it with you?”

“Stop it now, for God’s sake stop it, you two!”

“You in love with this crud? What’s—”

“I want you to stop this. I don’t care what you do, but please, no more, please,” and she ended with a sobbing mumble behind her hands.

Topper got to his feet slowly. He looked at Catell with a poisonous hate in his eyes, and there was slobber on his wet lips.

“Catell—”

“Shut up. You heard what I said?”

Topper didn’t say anything, just looked.

“And another thing, Topper. Remember you and me are on the same team. I don’t think Mr. Smith is going to like you very much if anything happens to me now. So keep your distance, Topper. Just another few days and I’ll be blowing town. After that, anything you want to throw my way, throw it. And when it comes back at you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Catell put Topper’s gun in his pocket and walked to the door.

“I’ll be seeing you, Lily,” he said. She didn’t look up. He shut the door behind him.

He stopped for a moment to light a cigarette. There was movement in the room, feet shuffling. Catell could hear a dull smacking on flesh and Lily moaning. Then Catell walked on down the corridor and left.

“Jackie, this dullness dulls me. Let’s you and me climb off these stools and go someplace else.” Larry pushed his glass back and made ready to go.

“Why not hang around here, Larry? I might get to like it here.” Herron kept watching Miss Rosemary move around.

“Come on, Jackie, up. I got to make the rounds yet. It’s my bread and butter, and this place is a dud.”

They got up and left because there was nothing going on at the Pink Shell.

Chapter Twelve

The tension was greater in Catell than he had ever felt it before. He stood at the open window of the Turtle’s room, staring through the yellow smog where the sun was