Jokers Wild Page 0,109

Rosemary.

She was even less certain now that Rosemary really intended to use the books solely as a means to influence the Family. There was too much of her father in her still. Bagabond remembered Rosemary's remark about wishing she had been a son, able to inherit control. Was she about to provide the means for Rosemary to get that control?

"I told you, my name isn't Adrian.'"

"Then I guess I'm not Rosa-Maria Gambione."

The man pulled off his mirrorshades. "Maria!" He smiled for the first time. "I remember once, I sent you the right hand from a kidnapped doll. You still wouldn't pay."

The other man spoke for the first time. "Be quiet" Adrian. Rosa Maria Gambione disappeared many years ago." He said to her, "You look more like a district attorney to me" Ms. Muldoon."

"Very good. I don't know you, do I?"

"No."

"My father fought for the Family in the old ways. I chose new ones."

"Like hounding us?" said the second man. "Prosecuting us?"

"To be a useful district attorney. I have to be a good district attorney."

The thin, inexpressive mouth below the sunglasses twitched at one corner. "Adrian, get your father. I think he'll be interested in this." He leaned back in his chair and said, "Please sit down, you and your friends, Ms. Muldoon."

Rosemary pulled out a chair and sat, crossing her legs and smiling at the man on the other side of the table. She barely turned her head. "Suzanne, I think now would be an appropriate time."

Bagabond turned Jack toward her and extended a hand toward his head. The man pulled back sharply. "Not here!"

"You're right." She caught Rosemary's eye and pointed her chin toward the door of the men's rest room.

"Good idea"" said Rosemary. To the man across the table, she said "My friends will be rejoining me in just a moment. I can assure you they are not ... armed." She looked directly into the opaque lenses. "Do you have a name?"

"Okay, make it quick." He waved idly at the rest room. "You always hang out with junkies?"

Rosemary reached across the table and poured herself a cup of tea. "No."

"Morelli," said the man. "Very pleased to meet you." Bagabond led Jack to the men's room door.

"Perhaps I'd best go first." Jack reached out to steady himself against the doorframe.

"You won't make it," Bagabond said matter-of-factly. "Your faith is touching." Then he gasped in pain. "On the other hand..."

Bagabond pulled open the door and walked in. No one stood at the urinal" but a Vietnamese man dressed in a soiled kitchen apron was just coming out of the stall. He squawked in surprise" managed hurriedly to wash his hands" then left, muttering in a language Bagabond was glad she didn't understand. "Get in here"" she said to Jack. The door swung shut after him.

"I don't know if I can do this," said Jack. "Sometimes I can't call him up. I hurt too much right now to concentrate. I-"

"Just take off your clothes."

"What?" He tried to smile. "Bagabond, this isn't the time." He shut up as she stared at him in exasperation.

"I don't have any spare clothing for you this time. If you don't take it off, you're going to destroy what you've got on. Okay?"

"Oh. Right." His back to her, Jack unbuttoned his shirt. Careless of her suit, Bagabond sat down on the dirty tile floor. After he had stripped, Jack looked dubiously at her. He held the bundle of clothes in front of him.

"Lie down."

Jack swallowed and prostrated himself in front of Bagabond. In the limited space, his feet extended under the green wooden partition dividing off the stall. She reached out and set his clothing safely aside. Holding his head in her hands, she began to send her consciousness inside his mind, searching for the key to his transformation.

"Let go of the pain. Stop trying to control it." Bagabond stopped using the rough voice she had adopted years before. Now she spoke in the rhythm she used when she calmed her animals. She synchronized her breathing with that rhythm and stroked Jack's head.

She knew the way. It was not the first time she had worked with Jack, although it was the first time she had sought to release the beast rather than contain it.

Jack relaxed under her hands. In his mind, he led her down through the levels of his consciousness. She dodged the barriers there and respected the private self which stood behind them. The cats had always urged her to pry. Out of friendship and