Jokers Wild Page 0,28

it on, she looked inquiringly at Baga bond, who shook her head.

"Doesn't go with the tweed." Bagabond sat back carefully, as if worried the chair would collapse. "Okay, I guess. We're not talking all that much right now. I just got a call from him before I came over. He's out hunting a niece who ran away to New York City."

Rosemary raised an eyebrow.

"Her name's Cordelia Chaisson. Sixteen. Country girl from Louisiana. Jack says she's real pretty-tall, slender, black hair, dark brown eyes. That's all he told me. He sounded pretty upset. "

"I'll put the word out in the station houses," said Rosemary. "That much I can do. Too many kids run away to the city." She took a fountain pen out of the desk set by her hip.

Bagabond nodded her appreciation. "How's life off the street?"

"Who says I'm off the street? With this job, I never leave." Rosemary sighed and continued to play with the fountain pen. It was obvious she had other things on her mind. "Things are getting worse with the Family. The Butcher-remember Don Frederico?-is killing anyone who threatens his authority. It's no way to run the Gambione Family. We're no longer completely in control in Jokertown. Somebody's setting the jokers against us, the Family. They're just being used, of course."

"The jokers are always getting used. Either they're the great downtrodden minority of this century, or else they're a plague to be eradicated." Bagabond fixed her with wide black eyes.

Rosemary continued, "They get something when they pay protection to the Gambiones. That's one tradition that even the Butcher doesn't dare abandon." She gestured with the pen. "I keep thinking that if my father had just had a son, to take over the Gambiones, this wouldn't be happening. Maybe that S. O. B. Butcher will have a nice accident. Slip in the bathtub or something."

"He always was bad news." Bagabond smiled humorlessly up at Rosemary. "Even in our brief acquaintance, I can't say that he made a good impression. If I hear anything. I'll let you know. I usually avoid Jokertown, but the rats like it down there. Lots of food."

"I don't want details, please." Rosemary shivered. "You want to know what else is making my life interesting? First thing I hear this morning is that there're some valuable note books on the street. I don't even know whose they are, but the Egrets want them. If the Egrets want them, so do I. You really do hear the strangest things, so if you find out anything about this, I would appreciate it." Rosemary wouldn't meet Bagabond's dark gaze. "I feel as if I'm using you, Suzanne, but you know things no one else does. Thanks."

"I have a lot of eyes and ears." Bagabond looked out the window behind Rosemary's shoulder. "You are a friend. I only have one other-human. I want to help."

"I wish Jack wasn't such an idiot," Rosemary said. "What is wrong with that boy?" She shook her head in sympathy. "Have you thought of maybe looking elsewhere?"

"Maybe at the mission?" Bagabond combed the hair back across her face with her fingers and jammed the cap down on her head. She stood up and spread the ratty paisley skirt she wore over a pair of chinos. "Or perhaps the singles bars. I could start a new fashion trend."

"I'm sorry." Rosemary slid off the desk and touched Bagabond's shoulder. Bagabond swung away from her hand.

"I've been alone for years. I'll survive. Besides, the cats would be happier." Bagabond showed her teeth, white and sharp. "I'll be in touch."

Rosemary opened the door and walked with her to the front desk.

"I've got court in twenty minutes. Just call me if you need anything, dear." The stooped and limping bag lady nodded her lowered head and walked away. As she passed the receptionist's area, Goldberg looked up.

"Hope to see you again soon. Have a nice day."

As he said the last words, the bag lady turned her head to stare at him.

"Yeah, I don't believe I said that either." He grinned and shrugged in apology, and the phone rang again. "'Bye." Making her way slowly down the stairs, Bagabond wondered if Jack had found Cordelia yet. Missing girls, missing notebooks. Everyone was looking for something. She wasn't. It was the advantage of having nothing to lose.

The jokers started all looking alike.

So did the normals dressed and made up as jokers.

Jack blinked confusedly. Trying to survey all the faces he was encountering was akin to scanning more than about six