tell me things in the sanctity of the confessional that I cannot reveal to you. But I can tell you that you are overlooking a source of information." He paused dramatically. "Her neighbors, Daniel," Father Squid said. "Her downstairs neighbors."
Brennan's expression was puzzled as Father Squid rose ponderously to his feet.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for the ten o'clock Mass."
10:00 A.M.
Breakfast arrived as Jay was climbing out of the shower. He toweled himself dry, wondering what he was supposed to do about the damp bandages around his ribs, and slipped into the clothes Tachyon had loaned him. The sleeves were too short and the pants showed off two inches of pale white ankle, but otherwise the suit fit well enough. The only problem was, it was puce.
Tachyon was seated in front of the room-service tray buttering a slice of toast when Jay emerged from the bedroom. Blaise, stretched out across an armchair, looked up and sniggered. Tachyon gave his grandson a stern look. "Blaise, did you enjoy your ride on the luggage carousel?"
The boy looked sullen. "No. I felt stupid."
"Then by the Ideal, you will mind your manners," Tachyon told him, "or I will have Mr. Ackroyd teleport you back to the Atlanta airport."
"I can't help it if he's funny," Blaise complained. "He looks like a fruit."
"Those are my clothes," Tachyon pointed out stiffly. He looked at Jay. "Myself, I think it's a dramatic improvement."
"I'm with the kid," Jay said. Blaise looked surprised. Then he grinned. Jay whipped up his finger in a quick-draw move, got the boy in his sights. Blaise flinched. "Gotcha," Jay said. He smiled. So did Blaise. Popping the kid halfway across Atlanta had done wonders for their rapport.
"He's enough of a rapscallion without your encouraging him," Tachyon complained.
"Ah, he's okay," Jay said, pulling a chair over to the room-service cart. "For a Takisian." He lifted the silver dome off his plate and attacked the eggs benedict wolfishly. They weren't as good as the eggs benedict at Aces High, but he was hungry enough not to give a damn. Hiram always said Jay had a Naugahyde palate anyway.
Tachyon was fastidiously patting his lips with a napkin and Jay was mopping up the last of the yolk with a piece of toast when the knock came at the door. Tachyon stood. "Who's there?"
"Carnifex. Open up, I don't have all day"
Tachyon glanced back at Jay. "Let him in," Jay said. "Ray's tough, but there's nothing he can do against you, me, and the Cisco Kid over there." He gestured toward Blaise.
The alien nodded and opened the door. Carnifex glanced around and stepped into the suite, wearing his skintight white uniform that outlined every muscle and tendon in his body. The hood was thrown back to reveal a face that looked like it had been patched together out of spare parts. "Regs say we're supposed to stay out of the political bullshit," Ray told Tachyon with disdain. "Good for you. Otherwise I'd have to whip your ass. You been hanging around Braun too much, I guess. Some of it must have rubbed off."
Tachyon's mouth tightened. "Say what you came to say, Ray," he told the government ace. "Your opinions on political and moral issues interest me not in the slightest."
"Gregg wants to see you," Billy Ray said.
"The sentiment is not reciprocated," Tachyon said. "You'll see him," Ray said, with a crooked smile. "Gregg said to tell you he has a proposition he wants to discuss."
"I have nothing to discuss with the senator."
"Scared?" Ray wanted to know. "Don't worry, I'll hold your hand if you want." He shrugged. "Come or don't come, either way it's no skin off my nose. But if you don't, you're going to regret it." The ace in the white suit looked around the suite: at the windows Turtle had shattered, the television Hiram had dropped, the urine stain on the sofa. "Must have been a hell of a party," he said to Tachyon. "Somebody ought to teach you to clean up after yourself, doc. This place is a mess."
He was going out the door when Jay called out. "Hey, Carny."
Ray turned around with a dangerous glint in his green eyes. "That's Carnifex, asshole."
"Carnifex Asshole," Jay repeated. "I'll try and remember. How many of those Good Humor suits you own?"
"Six or eight," Carnifex said suspiciously. "Why?"
"Must be hell to get the bloodstains out," Jay said. Ray just stared at him. "Stay out of my way, shamus," he said, "or you'll find out