and gave him a slight concussion. They also burned his delivery truck and vandalized his place of business. They poisoned my lobsters with gasoline, Mr. Latham."
"Did you see our client commit any of these alleged crimes? No? I thought not. Did Mr.. Ackroyd?"
"Damn it, Latham. I was there this morning, I saw what they were trying to do--"
"Who? "
"Them," Hiram said. "His men. Three of them, they were called, ah, Eye and Cheech and, well, I don't recall the other one's name. Eye was the joker"
" I have no idea who you're referring to," Latham said. "In any case, Mr. Seivers is not a part of any gang."
"Mr. Seivers?" Hiram was momentarily confused.
"I believe he's sometimes known as the Bludgeon. If you're going to persecute the man on account of his appearance, you might at least trouble yourself to learn his real name, which as it happens is Robert Seivers."
Both of them heard the toilet flush. Latham leaned back in his chair. "Your friend is finished. Unless you care to propose a settlement, I believe our business is finished too. As you can see, I'm quite busy."
Jay Ackroyd reentered the room, looking a bit pale, dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief:
"Get out," Latham suggested coolly. "Both of you."
"You can't just--" Hiram began.
"Would you prefer I call the police?"
As they waited by the elevator, Hiram glared at Jay in indignation. " A fat lot of good you were," he said.
"You've got a great touch for interrogation, Hiram," Ackroyd said. "I didn't want to spoil your rhythm."
The doors opened and they got inside the elevator. "That got us exactly nowhere," Hiram said, pressing the button for the lobby with rather more gusto than required.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Ackroyd replied. He looked at his watch. "If Loophole's as smart as I think, he's searching his bathroom by now."
Hiram was lost. "Searching his bathroom?"
"Bedroom too. I didn't really expect him to buy my little tummyache," Jay said. "He's got to figure I ran to the john to plant some kind of bug."
"Ah," Hiram said, "so he wastes time searching..."
"I hope not. Hell, I didn't hide it very well. It's on the phone by his bed, how obvious could I get?"
Hiram gaped at him. "You planted a bug, but you want it to be discovered. Why?"
"Gives him something to find," Ackroyd said. "Once he has it, he ought to be satisfied. He thinks we're chumps anyway, and he's got other things on his mind tonight."
"Where did you get a bug?" They'd reached the lobby. The doors opened, and they stepped out of the elevator. Ackroyd shrugged. "Oh, I carry a few around. They're good for making people nervous. I get them real cheap at this place in Jokertown, this guy sells me all his broken ones, six for a dollar. Unless Loophole knows a lot more about microcircuitry than I figure, he'll never know the difference." Ackroyd glanced at his watch again. "By now he should have found it, locked it up somewhere, and gone back to business, but let's give him a few more minutes just to play it safe. Did you notice the computer?"
"Eh? Yes, certainly, what of it?" Hiram opened the door and they walked outside.
"Manhattan streets," Jay said. "Times Square area. There were maps on his desk. Some kind of search is in progress, and our friend Loophole is coordinating it, I'd bet. Staving right by his phone, keeping everyone in touch with everybody else, charting the players on the computer. Real interesting."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hiram said. "Remember our little tete-a-tete at Tachyon's place? Tall-green-and-scaly was looking for some kind 4 book, and he didn't strike me as a real heavy reader. I think Loophole's looking for the same thing."
"I don't care a fig about stolen books," Hiram said. "I want something done about Bludgeon."
"Maybe the same guy owns them both," Jay said. He shrugged. "Or maybe not. Let's find out." He ambled back over by the building and began poking around in the shrubbery.
Hiram crossed his arms and scowled. "What are you doing?"
Popinjay looked back. "I'm going to hide in these bushes. I'm real good at hiding in bushes. Its the first thing they teach you in detective school."
"How are you going to find out anything that way?"
"I'm not," Ackroyd said. He shaped his right hand into a gun and pointed a loaded finger. "You are," he finished. Hiram never heard the pop.
Fortunato's black tie and long coat were a little out of place